3607	----	None 
32877	----	My Dark Companions, by Henry M. Stanley. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ MY DARK COMPANIONS, BY HENRY M. STANLEY. PREFACE. The nightly custom of gathering around the camp fire, and entertaining one another with stories, began in 1875, after Sabadu, a page of King Mtesa, had astonished his hearers with the legend of the "Blameless Priest." Our circle was free to all, and was frequently well attended; for when it was seen that the more accomplished narrators were suitably rewarded, and that there was a great deal of amusement to be derived, few could resist the temptation to approach and listen, unless fatigue or illness prevented them. Many of the stories related were naturally of little value, having neither novelty nor originality; and in many cases, especially where the Zanzibaris were the narrators, the stories were mere importations from Asia; while others, again, were mere masks of low inclinations. I therefore had often to sit out a lengthy tale which had not a single point in it. But whenever a real aborigine of the interior undertook to tell a tale of the old days, we were sure to hear something new and striking; the language became more quaint, and in almost every tale there was a distinct moral. The following legends are the choicest and most curious of those that were related to me during seventeen years, and which have not been hitherto published in any of my books of travel. Faithfully as I have endeavoured to follow the unsophisticated narrators it is impossible for me to reproduce the simplicity of style with which they were given, or to describe the action which accompanied them. I take my cue from the African native. He told them with the view of pleasing his native audience, after much solicitation. He was unused to the art of public speaking, and never dreamed that he was exposing himself to criticism. He was also shy, and somewhat indolent, or tired perhaps, and would prefer listening to others rather than speak himself, but though protesting strongly that his memory was defective, and that he could not remember anything, he yielded at last for the sake of peace, and good-fellowship. As these few, now about to be published, are not wholly devoid of a certain merit as examples of Central African lore, and oral literature, I have thought it best to consider myself only as a translator and to render them into English with as direct and true a version as possible. I begin with the Creation of Man merely for preference, and not according to the date on which it was related. The legend was delivered by Matageza, a native of the Basoko, in December, 1883. [The Basoko are a tribe occupying the right bank of the Aruwimi river from its confluence with the Congo to within a short distance of the rapids of Yambuya, and inland for a few marches.] He had been an assiduous attendant at our nightly circle, but hitherto had not opened his mouth. Finally, as the silence at the camp fire was getting somewhat awkward, Baruti, one of my tent-boys, was pressed to say something; but he drew back, saying that he never was able to remember a thing that was told to him, but, added he, "Matageza is clever; I have heard him tell a long legend about the making of the first man by the moon." All eyes were at once turned upon Matageza, who was toasting his feet by a little fire of his own, and there was a chorus of cries for "Matageza! Matageza!" He affected great reluctance to come forward, but the men, whose curiosity was aroused, would not take a denial, and some of them seized him, and dragged him with loud laughter to the seat of honour. After a good deal of urging and a promise of a fine cloth if the story was good, he cleared his throat and began the strange legend of the Creation of Man as follows:-- CHAPTER ONE. THE CREATION OF MAN. In the old, old time, all this land, and indeed all the whole earth was covered with sweet water. But the water dried up or disappeared somewhere, and the grasses, herbs, and plants began to spring up above the ground, and some grew, in the course of many moons, into trees, great and small, and the water was confined into streams and rivers, pools and lakes, and as the rain fell it kept the streams and rivers running, and the pools and lakes always fresh. There was no living thing moving upon the earth, until one day there sat by one of the pools a large Toad. How long he had lived, or how he came to exist, is not known; it is suspected, however, that the water brought him forth out of some virtue that was in it. In the sky there was only the Moon glowing and shining--on the earth there was but this one Toad. It is said that they met and conversed together, and that one day the Moon said to him: "I have an idea. I propose to make a man and a woman to live on the fruits of the earth, for I believe that there is rich abundance of food on it fit for such creatures." "Nay," said the Toad, "let me make them, for I can make them fitter for the use of the earth than thou canst, for I belong to the earth, while thou belongest to the sky." "Verily," replied the Moon, "thou hast the power to create creatures which shall have but a brief existence; but if I make them, they will have something of my own nature; and it is a pity that the creatures of one's own making should suffer and die. Therefore, O Toad, I propose to reserve the power of creation for myself, that the creatures may be endowed with perfection and enduring life." "Ah, Moon, be not envious of the power which I share with thee, but let me have my way. I will give them forms such as I have often dreamed of. The thought is big within me, and I insist upon realising my ideas." "An thou be so resolved, observe my words, both thou and they shall die. Thou I shall slay myself and end utterly; and thy creatures can but follow thee, being of such frail material as thou canst give them." "Ah, thou art angry now, but I heed thee not. I am resolved that the creatures to inhabit this earth shall be of my own creating. Attend thou to thine own empire in the sky." Then the Moon rose and soared upward, where with his big, shining face he shone upon all the world. The Toad grew great with his conception, until it ripened and issued out in the shape of twin beings, full-grown male and female. These were the first like our kind that ever trod the earth. The Moon beheld the event with rage, and left his place in the sky to punish the Toad, who had infringed the privilege that he had thought to reserve for himself. He came direct to Toad's pool, and stood blazingly bright over it. "Miserable," he cried, "what hast thou done?" "Patience, Moon, I but exercised my right and power. It was within me to do it, and lo, the deed is done." "Thou hast exalted thyself to be my equal in thine own esteem. Thy conceit has clouded thy wit, and obscured the memory of the warning I gave thee. Even hadst thou obtained a charter from me to attempt the task, thou couldst have done no better than thou hast done. As much as thou art inferior to me, so these will be inferior to those I could have endowed this earth with. Thy creatures are pitiful things, mere animals without sense, without the gift of perception or self-protection. They see, they breathe, they exist; their lives can be measured by one round journey of mine. Were it not out of pity for them, I would even let them die. Therefore for pity's sake I propose to improve somewhat on what thou hast done: their lives shall be lengthened, and such intelligence as malformed beings as these can contain will I endow them with, that they may have guidance through a life which with all my power must be troubled and sore. But as for thee, whilst thou exist my rage is perilous to them, therefore to save thy kin I end thee." Saying which the Moon advanced upon Toad, and the fierce sparks from his burning face were shot forth, and fell upon the Toad until he was consumed. The Moon then bathed in the pool, that the heat of his anger might be moderated, and the water became so heated that it was like that which is in a pot over a fire, and he stayed in it until the hissing and bubbling had subsided. Then the Moon rose out of the pool, and sought the creatures of Toad: and when he had found them, he called them unto him, but they were afraid and hid themselves. At this sight the Moon smiled, as you sometimes see him on fine nights, when he is a clear white, and free from stain or blurr, and he was pleased that Toad's creatures were afraid of him. "Poor things," said he, "Toad has left me much to do yet before I can make them fit to be the first of earthly creatures." Saying which he took hold of them, and bore them to the pool wherein he had bathed, and which had been the home of Toad. He held them in the water for some time, tenderly bathing them, and stroking them here and there as a potter does to his earthenware, until he had moulded them into something similar to the shape we men and women possess now. The male became distinguished by breadth of shoulder, depth of chest, larger bones, and more substantial form; the female was slighter in chest, slimmer of waist, and the breadth and fulness of the woman was midmost of the body at the hips. Then the Moon gave them names; the man he called Bateta, the woman Hanna, and he addressed them and said: "Bateta, see this earth and the trees, and herbs and plants and grasses; the whole is for thee and thy wife Hanna, and for thy children whom Hanna thy wife shall bear unto thee. I have re-made thee greatly, that thou and thine may enjoy such things as thou mayest find needful and fit. In order that thou mayest discover what things are not noxious but beneficial for thee, I have placed the faculty of discernment within thy head, which thou must exercise before thou canst become wise. The more thou prove this, the more wilt thou be able to perceive the abundance of good things the earth possesses for the creatures which are to inhabit it. I have made thee and thy wife as perfect as is necessary for the preservation and enjoyment of the term of life, which by nature of the materials the Toad made thee of must needs be short. It is in thy power to prolong or shorten it. Some things I must teach thee. I give thee first an axe. I make a fire for thee, which thou must feed from time to time with wood, and the first and most necessary utensil for daily use. Observe me while I make it for thee." The Moon took some dark clay by the pool and mixed it with water, then kneaded it, and twisted it around until its shape was round and hollowed within, and he covered it with the embers of the fire, and baked it; and when it was ready he handed it to them. "This vessel," continued the Moon, "is for the cooking of food. Thou wilt put water into it, and place whatsoever edible thou desirest to eat in the water. Thou wilt then place the vessel on the fire, which in time will boil the water and cook the edible. All vegetables, such as roots and bulbs, are improved in flavour and give superior nourishment by being thus cooked. It will become a serious matter for thee to know which of all the things pleasant in appearance are also pleasant for the palate. But shouldst thou be long in doubt and fearful of harm, ask and I will answer thee." Having given the man and woman their first lesson, the Moon ascended to the sky, and from his lofty place shone upon them, and upon all the earth with a pleased expression, which comforted greatly the lonely pair. Having watched the ascending Moon until he had reached his place in the sky, Bateta and Hanna rose and travelled on by the beautiful light which he gave them, until they came to a very large tree that had fallen. The thickness of the prostrate trunk was about twice their height. At the greater end of it there was a hole, into which they could walk without bending. Feeling a desire for sleep, Bateta laid his fire down outside near the hollowed entrance, cut up dry fuel, and his wife piled it on the fire, while the flames grew brighter and lit the interior. Bateta took Hanna by the hand and entered within the tree, and the two lay down together. But presently both complained of the hardness of their bed, and Bateta, after pondering awhile, rose, and going out, plucked some fresh large leaves of a plant that grew near the fallen tree, and returned laden with it. He spread it about thickly, and Hanna rolled herself on it, and laughed gleefully as she said to Bateta that it was soft and smooth and nice; and opening her arms, she cried, "Come, Bateta, and rest by my side." Though this was the first day of their lives, the Moon had so perfected the unfinished and poor work of the Toad that they were both mature man and woman. Within a month Hanna bore twins, of whom one was male and the other female, and they were tiny doubles of Bateta and Hanna, which so pleased Bateta that he ministered kindly to his wife who, through her double charge, was prevented from doing anything else. Thus it was that Bateta, anxious for the comfort of his wife, and for the nourishment of his children, sought to find choice things, but could find little to please the dainty taste which his wife had contracted. Whereupon, looking up to Moon with his hands uplifted, he cried out: "O Moon, list to thy creature Bateta! My wife lies languishing, and she has a taste strange to me which I cannot satisfy, and the children that have been born unto us feed upon her body, and her strength decreases fast. Come down, O Moon, and show me what fruit or herbs will cure her longing." The Moon heard Bateta's voice, and coming out from behind the cloud with a white, smiling face, said, "It is well, Bateta; lo! I come to help thee." When the Moon had approached Bateta, he showed the golden fruit of the banana--which was the same plant whose leaves had formed the first bed of himself and wife. "O Bateta, smell this fruit. How likest thou its fragrance?" "It is beautiful and sweet. O Moon, if it be as wholesome for the body as it is sweet to smell, my wife will rejoice in it." Then the Moon peeled the banana and offered it to Bateta, upon which he boldly ate it, and the flavour was so pleasant that he besought permission to take one to his wife. When Hanna had tasted it she also appeared to enjoy it; but she said, "Tell Moon that I need something else, for I have no strength, and I am thinking that this fruit will not give to me what I lose by these children." Bateta went out and prayed to Moon to listen to Hanna's words--which when he had heard, he said, "It was known to me that this should be, wherefore look round, Bateta, and tell me what thou seest moving yonder." "Why, that is a buffalo." "Rightly named," replied Moon. "And what follows it?" "A goat." "Good again. And what next?" "An antelope." "Excellent, O Bateta; and what may the next be?" "A sheep." "Sheep it is, truly. Now look up above the trees, and tell me what thou seest soaring over them." "I see fowls and pigeons." "Very well called, indeed," said Moon. "These I give unto thee for meat. The buffalo is strong and fierce, leave him for thy leisure; but the goat, sheep, and fowls, shall live near thee, and shall partake of thy bounty. There are numbers in the woods which will come to thee when they are filled with their grazing and their pecking. Take any of them--either goat, sheep, or fowl--bind it, and chop its head off with thy hatchet. The blood will sink into the soil; the meat underneath the outer skin is good for food, after being boiled or roasted over the fire. Haste now, Bateta; it is meat thy wife craves, and she needs naught else to restore her strength. So prepare instantly and eat." The Moon floated upward, smiling and benignant, and Bateta hastened to bind a goat, and made it ready as the Moon had advised. Hanna, after eating of the meat which was prepared by boiling, soon recovered her strength, and the children throve, and grew marvellously. One morning Bateta walked out of his hollowed house, and lo! a change had come over the earth. Right over the tops of the trees a great globe of shining, dazzling light looked out from the sky, and blazed white and bright over all. Things that he had seen dimly before were now more clearly revealed. By the means of the strange light hung up in the sky he saw the difference between that which the Moon gave and that new brightness which now shone out. For, without, the trees and their leaves seemed clad in a luminous coat of light, while underneath it was but a dim reflection of that which was without, and to the sight it seemed like the colder light of the Moon. And in the cooler light that prevailed below the foliage of the trees there were gathered hosts of new and strange creatures; some large, others of medium, and others of small size. Astonished at these changes, he cried, "Come out, O Hanna, and see the strange sights without the dwelling, for verily I am amazed, and know not what has happened." Obedient, Hanna came out with the children and stood by his side, and was equally astonished at the brightness of the light and at the numbers of creatures which in all manner of sizes and forms stood in the shade ranged around them, with their faces towards the place where they stood. "What may this change portend, O Bateta?" asked his wife. "Nay, Hanna, I know not. All this has happened since the Moon departed from me." "Thou must perforce call him again, Bateta, and demand the meaning of it, else I shall fear harm unto thee, and unto these children." "Thou art right, my wife, for to discover the meaning of all this without other aid than my own wits would keep us here until we perished." Then he lifted his voice, and cried out aloud upward, and at the sound of his voice all the creatures gathered in the shades looked upward, and cried with their voices; but the meaning of their cry, though there was an infinite variety of sound, from the round, bellowing voice of the lion to the shrill squeak of the mouse, was: "Come down unto us, O Moon, and explain the meaning of this great change unto us; for thou only who madest us can guide our sense unto the right understanding of it." When they had ended their entreaty unto the Moon, there came a voice from above, which sounded like distant thunder, saying, "Rest ye where ye stand, until the brightness of this new light shall have faded, and ye distinguish my milder light and that of the many children which have been born unto me, when I shall come unto you and explain." Thereupon they rested each creature in its own place, until the great brightness, and the warmth which the strange light gave faded and lessened, and it was observed that it disappeared from view on the opposite side to that where it had first been seen, and also immediately after at the place of its disappearance the Moon was seen, and all over the sky were visible the countless little lights which the children of the Moon gave. Presently, after Bateta had pointed these out to Hanna and the children, the Moon shone out bland, and its face was covered with gladness, and he left the sky smiling, and floated down to the earth, and stood not far off from Bateta, in view of him and his family, and of all the creatures under the shade. "Hearken, O Bateta, and ye creatures of prey and pasture. A little while ago, ye have seen the beginning of the measurement of time, which shall be divided hereafter into day and night. The time that lapses between the Sun's rising and its setting shall be called day, that which shall lapse between its setting and re-rising shall be called night. The light of the day proceeds from the Sun, but the light of the night proceeds from me and from my children the stars; and as ye are all my creatures, I have chosen that my softer light shall shine during the restful time wherein ye sleep, to recover the strength lost in the waking time, and that ye shall be daily waked for the working time by the stronger light of the Sun. This rule never-ending shall remain. "And whereas Bateta and his wife are the first of creatures, to them, their families, and kind that shall be born unto them, shall be given pre-eminence over all creatures made, not that they are stronger, or swifter, but because to them only have I given understanding and a gift of speech to transmit it. Perfection and everlasting life had also been given, but the taint of the Toad remains in the system, and the result will be death,--death to all living things, Bateta and Hanna excepted. In the fulness of time, when their limbs refuse to bear the burden of their bodies and their marrow has become dry, my first-born shall return to me, and I shall absorb them. Children shall be born innumerable unto them, until families shall expand into tribes, and from here, as from a spring, mankind will outflow and overspread all lands, which are now but wild and wold, ay, even to the farthest edge of the earth. "And hearken, O Bateta, the beasts which thou seest, have sprung from the ashes of the Toad. On the day that he measured his power against mine, and he was consumed by my fire, there was one drop of juice left in his head. It was a life-germ which soon grew into another toad. Though not equal in power to the parent toad, thou seest what he has done. Yonder beasts of prey and pasture and fowls are his work. As fast as they were conceived by him, and uncouth and ungainly they were, I dipped them into Toad's Pool, and perfected them outwardly, according to their uses, and, as thou seest, each specimen has its mate. Whereas, both thou and they alike have the acrid poison of the toad, thou from the parent, they in a greater measure from the child toad, the mortal taint when ripe will end both man and beast. No understanding nor gift of speech has been given to them, and they are as inferior to thyself as the child toad was to the parent toad. Wherefore, such qualities as thou mayst discover in them, thou mayst employ in thy services. Meantime, let them go out each to its own feeding-ground, lair, or covert, and grow and multiply, until the generations descending from thee shall have need for them. Enough for thee with the bounties of the forest, jungle, and plain, are the goats, sheep, and fowls. At thy leisure, Bateta, thou mayst strike and eat such beasts as thou seest akin in custom to these that will feed from thy hand. The waters abound in fish that are thine at thy need, the air swarms with birds which are also thine, as thy understanding will direct thee. "Thou wilt be wise to plant all such edibles as thou mayest discover pleasing to the palate and agreeable to thy body, but be not rash in assuming that all things pleasant to the eye are grateful to thy inwards. "So long as thou and Hanna are on the earth, I promise thee my aid and counsel; and what I tell thee and thy wife thou wilt do well to teach thy children, that the memory of useful things be not forgotten--for after I take thee to myself, I come no more to visit man. Enter thy house now, for it is a time, as I have told thee, for rest and sleep. At the shining of the greater light, thou wilt waken for active life and work, and family care and joys. The beasts shall also wander each to his home in the earth, on the tops of the trees, in the bush, or in the cavern. Fare thee well, Bateta, and have kindly care for thy wife Hanna and the children." The Moon ended his speech, and floated upward, radiant and gracious, until he rested in his place in the sky, and all the children of the Moon twinkled for joy and gladness so brightly, as the parent of the world entered his house, that all the heavens for a short time seemed burning. Then the Moon drew over him his cloudy cloak, and the little children of the Moon seemed to get drowsy, for they twinkled dimly, and then a darkness fell over all the earth, and in the darkness man and beast retired, each to his own place, according as the Moon had directed. A second time Bateta waked from sleep, and walked out to wonder at the intense brightness of the burning light that made the day. Then he looked around him, and his eyes rested upon a noble flock of goats and sheep, all of whom bleated their morning welcome, while the younglings pranced about in delight, and after curvetting around, expressed in little bleats the joy they felt at seeing their chief, Bateta. His attention was also called to the domestic fowls; there were red and white and spotted cocks, and as many coloured hens, each with its own brood of chicks. The hens trotted up to their master--cluck, cluck, clucking--the tiny chicks, following each its own mother--cheep, cheep, cheeping--while the cocks threw out their breasts and strutted grandly behind, and crowed with their trumpet throats, "All hail, master." Then the morning wind rose and swayed the trees, plants, and grasses, and their tops bending before it bowed their salutes to the new king of the earth, and thus it was that man knew that his reign over all was acknowledged. A few months afterwards, another double birth occurred, and a few months later there was still another, and Bateta remembered the number of months that intervened between each event, and knew that it would be a regular custom for all time. At the end of the eighteenth year, he permitted his first-born to choose a wife, and when his other children grew up he likewise allowed them to select their wives. At the end of ninety years, Hanna had born to Bateta two hundred and forty-two children, and there were grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and countless great-great-grandchildren, and they lived to an age many times the length of the greatest age amongst us now-a-days. When they were so old that it became a trouble to them to live, the Moon came down to the earth as he had promised, and bore them to himself, and soon after the first-born twins died and were buried in the earth, and after that the deaths were many and more frequent. People ceased to live as long as their parents had done, for sickness, dissensions, wars, famines, accidents ended them and cut their days short, until they at last forgot how to live long, and cared not to think how their days might be prolonged. And it has happened after this manner down to us who now live. The whole earth has become filled with mankind, but the dead that are gone and forgotten are far greater in number than those now alive upon the earth. Ye see now, my friends, what mischief the Toad did unto all mankind. Had his conceit been less, and had he waited a little, the good Moon would have conceived us of a nobler kind than we now are, and the taint of the Toad had not cursed man. Wherefore abandon headstrong ways, and give not way to rashness, but pay good heed to the wise and old, lest ye taint in like manner the people, and cause the innocent, the young, and the weak to suffer. I have spoken my say. If ye have heard aught displeasing, remember I but tell the tale as it was told unto me. "Taking it as a mere story," said Baraka, "it is very well told, but I should like to know why the Moon did not teach Bateta the value of manioc, since he took the trouble to tell him about the banana." "For the reason," answered Matageza, "that when he showed him the banana, there was no one but the Moon could have done so. But after the Moon had given goats and sheep and fowls for his companions, his own lively intelligence was sufficient to teach Bateta many things. The goats became great pets of Bateta, and used to follow him about. He observed that there was a certain plant to which the goats flocked with great greed, to feed upon the tops until their bellies became round and large with it. One day the idea came to him that if the goats could feed so freely upon it without harm, it might be also harmless to him. Whereupon he pulled the plant up and earned it home. While he was chopping up the tops for the pot his pet goats tried to eat the tuber which was the root, and he tried that also. He cut up both leaves and root and cooked them, and after tasting them he found them exceedingly good and palatable, and thenceforward manioc became a daily food to him and his family, and from them to his children's children, and so on down to us." "Verily, that is of great interest. Why did you not put that in the story?" "Because the story would then have no end. I would have to tell you of the sweet potato, and the tomato, of the pumpkin, of the millet that was discovered by the fowls, and of the palm oil-nut that was discovered by the dog." "Ah, yes, tell us how a dog could have shown the uses of the palm oil-nut." "It is very simple. Bateta coaxed a dog to live with him because he found that the dog preferred to sit on his haunches and wait for the bones that his family threw aside after the meal was over, rather than hunt for himself like other flesh-eating beasts. One day Bateta walked out into the woods, and his dog followed him. After a long walk Bateta rested at the foot of the straight tall tree called the palm, and there were a great many nuts lying on the ground, which perhaps the monkeys or the wind had thrown down. The dog after smelling them lay down and began to eat them, and though Bateta was afraid he would hurt himself, he allowed him to have his own way, and he did not see that they harmed him at all, but that he seemed as fond as ever of them. By thinking of this he conceived that they would be no harm to him; and after cooking them, he found that their fat improved the flavour of his vegetables, hence the custom came down to us. Indeed, the knowledge of most things that we know to-day as edibles came down to us through the observation of animals by our earliest fathers. What those of old knew not was found out later through stress of hunger, while men were lost in the bushy wilds." When at last we rose to retire to our tents and huts, the greater number of our party felt the sorrowful conviction that the Toad had imparted to all mankind an incurable taint, and that we poor wayfarers, in particular, were cursed with an excess of it, in consequence of which both Toad and tadpole were heartily abused by all. CHAPTER TWO. THE GOAT, THE LION, AND THE SERPENT. Baruti, which translated means "gunpowder," envied Matageza the "piece" of a dozen gay handkerchiefs, with which he had been rewarded for his excellent story, and one evening while he served dinner, ventured to tell me that he also remembered a story that had been told to him when a child among the Basoko. "Very well, Baruti," I replied, "we will all meet to-night around the camp fire as usual, and according to the merits of your story you will surely be rewarded. If it is better than Matageza's, you shall have a still finer piece of cloth; if it is not so interesting, you cannot expect so much." "All right, sir. Business is business, and nothing for him that can say nothing." Soon after the darkness had fallen the captains of the expedition and the more intelligent men began to form the evening circle, and after we had discussed the state of the night, and the events of the day, I called out to Baruti for his story, when, after telling us what a great time had elapsed since he had heard it, and how by searching into the recesses of his memory he had at last remembered it, he delivered the story of "The Goat, the Lion, and the Serpent," in the following manner:-- A Goat and a Lion were travelling together one day on the outskirts of a forest, at the end of which there was a community of mankind comfortably hutted within a village, which was fenced round with tall and pointed stakes. The Goat said to the Lion: "Well, now, my friend, where do you come from this day?" "I have come from a feast that I have given many friends of mine--to the leopard, hyena, wolf, jackal, wild cat, buffalo, zebra, and many more. The long-necked giraffe and dew-lapped eland were also there, as well as the springing antelope." "That is grand company you keep, indeed," said the Goat, with a sigh. "As for poor me, I am alone. No one cares for me very much, but I find abundance of grass and sweet leafage, and when I am full, I seek a soft spot under a tree, and chew my cud, dreamily and contentedly. And of other sorrows, save an occasional pang of hunger, in my wanderings I know of none." "Do you mean to say that you do not envy me my regal dignity and strength?" "I do not indeed, because as yet I have been ignorant of them." "What? Know you not that I am the strongest of all who dwell in the forest or wilderness? that when I roar all who hear me bow down their heads, and shrink in fear?" "Indeed, I do not know all this, nor am I very sure that you are not deceiving yourself, because I know many whose offensive powers are much more dangerous, my friend, than yours. True, your teeth are large, and your claws are sharp, and your roar is loud enough, and your appearance is imposing. Still, I know a tiny thing in these woods that is much more to be dreaded than you are; and I think if you matched yourself against it in a contest, that same tiny thing would become victor." "Bah!" said the Lion, impatiently, "you anger me. Why, even to-day all who were at the feast acknowledged that they were but feeble creatures compared with me: and you will own that if I but clawed you once there would be no life left in you." "What you say in regard to me is true enough, and, as I said before, I do not pretend to the possession of strength. But this tiny thing that I know of is not likely to have been at your feast." "What may this tiny thing be that is so dreadful?" asked the Lion, sneeringly. "The Serpent," answered the Goat, chewing his cud with an indifferent air. "The Serpent!" said the Lion, astounded. "What, that crawling reptile, which feeds on mice and sleeping birds--that soft, vine-like, creeping thing that coils itself in tufts of grass, and branches of bush?" "Yes, that is its name and character clearly." "Why, my weight alone would tread it until it became flat like a smashed egg." "I would not try to do so if I were you. Its fangs are sharper than your great corner teeth or claws." "Will you match it against my strength?" "Yes." "And if you lose, what will be the forfeit?" "If you survive the fight, I will be your slave, and you may command me for any purpose you please. But what will you give me if you lose?" "What you please." "Well, then, I will take one hundred bunches of bananas; and you had better bring them here alongside of me, before you begin." "Where is this Serpent that will fight with me?" "Close by. When you have brought the bananas he will be here, waiting for you." The Lion stalked proudly away to procure the bananas, and the Goat proceeded into the bush, where he saw Serpent drowsily coiled in many coils on a slender branch. "Serpent," said the Goat, "wake up. Lion is raging for a fight with you. He has made a bet of a hundred bunches of bananas that he will be the victor, and I have pledged my life that you will be the strong one; and, hark you, obey my hints, and my life is safe, and I shall be provided with food for at least three moons." "Well," said Serpent, languidly, "what is it that you wish me to do?" "Take position on a bush about three cubits high, that stands near the scene where the fight is to take place, and when Lion is ready, raise your crest high and boldly, and ask him to advance near you that you may see him well, because you are short-sighted, you know. And he, full of his conceit and despising your slight form, will advance towards you, unwitting of your mode of attack. Then fasten your fangs in his eyebrows, and coil yourself round his neck. If there is any virtue left in your venom, poor Lion will lie stark before long." "And if I do this, what will you do for me?" "I am thy servant and friend for all time." "It is well," answered the Serpent. "Lead the way." Accordingly Goat led Serpent to the scene of the combat, and the latter coiled itself in position, as Goat had advised, on the leafy top of a young bush. Presently Lion came, with a long line of servile animals, bearing one hundred bunches of bananas; and, after dismissing them, he turned to the Goat, and said: "Well, Goatee, where is your friend who is stronger than I am? I feel curious to see him." "Are you Lion?" asked a sibilant voice from the top of a bush. "Yes, I am; and who are you that do not know me?" "I am Serpent, friend Lion, and short of sight and slow of movement. Advance nearer to me, for I see you not." Lion uttered a loud roaring laugh, and went confidently near the Serpent--who had raised his crest and arched his neck--so near that his breath seemed to blow the slender form to a tremulous movement. "You shake already," said Lion, mockingly. "Yes, I shake but to strike the better, my friend," said Serpent, as he darted forward and fixed his fangs in the right eyebrow of Lion, and at the same moment its body glided round the neck of Lion, and became buried out of sight in the copious mane. Like the pain of fire the deadly venom was felt quickly in the head and body. When it reached the heart, Lion fell down and lay still and dead. "Well done," cried Goat, as he danced around the pile of bananas. "Provisions for three moons have I, and this doughty roarer is of no more value than a dead goat." Goat and Serpent then vowed friendship for one another, after which Serpent said: "Now follow me, and obey. I have a little work for you." "Work! What work, O Serpent?" "It is light and agreeable. If you follow that path, you will find a village of mankind. You will there proclaim to the people what I have done, and show this carcase to them. In return for this they will make much of you, and you will find abundance of food in their gardens-- tender leaves of manioc and peanut, mellow bananas, and plenty of rich greens daily. True, when you are fat and a feast is to be made, they will kill you and eat you; but, for all your kind, comfort, plenty, and warm, dry housing is more agreeable than the cold damp jungle, and destruction by the feral beasts." "Nay, neither the work nor the fate is grievous, and I thank you, O Serpent; but for you there can be no other home than the bush and the tuft of grass, and you will always be a dreaded enemy of all who come near your resting-place." Then they parted. The Goat went along the path, and came to the gardens of a village, where a woman was chopping fuel. Looking up she saw a creature with grand horns coming near to her, bleating. Her first impulse was to run away, but seeing, as it bleated, that it was a fodder-eating animal, with no means of offence, she plucked some manioc greens and coaxed it to her, upon which the Goat came and spoke to her. "Follow me, for I have a strange thing to show you a little distance off." The woman, wondering that a four-footed animal could address her in intelligible speech, followed; and the Goat trotted gently before her to where Lion lay dead. The woman upon seeing the body, stopped and asked, "What is the meaning of this?" The Goat answered, "This was once the king of beasts; the fear of him was upon all that lived in the woods and in the wilderness. But he too often boasted of his might, and became too proud. I therefore dared him to fight a tiny creature of the bush, and lo! the boaster was slain." "And how do you name the victor?" "The Serpent." "Ah! you say true. Serpent is king over all, except man," answered the woman. "You are of a wise kind," answered the Goat. "Serpent confessed to me that man was his superior, and sent me to you that I might become man's creature. Henceforth man shall feed me with greens, tender tops of plants, and house and protect me; but when the feast-day comes, man shall kill me, and eat of my flesh. These are the words of Serpent." The woman hearkened to all Goat's words, and retained them in her memory. Then she unrobed the Lion of his furry spoil, and conveyed it to the village, where she astonished her folk with all that had happened to her. From that day to this the goat kind has remained with the families of man, and people are grateful to the Serpent for his gift to them; for had not the Serpent commanded it to seek their presence, the Goat had remained for ever wild like the antelope, its brother. "Well done, Baruti," cried Chowpereh. "That is a very good story, and it is very likely to be a true one too. Wallahi, there is some sense in these pagans after all, and I had thought that their heads were very woodeny." It is needless to say that the sentiments of Chowpereh were generally shared, and that Baruti received the new dress he so well deserved. CHAPTER THREE. THE QUEEN OF THE POOL. Kassim was a sturdy lad from the Basoko country, and a chum of Baruti. As yet he had never related to us a legend, though he loved to sit near the fire, and listen to the tales of the days of old. This silence on his part was at last remarked, and one night he was urged by all of us to speak, because it was unfair that those who frequented our open-air club should be always ready to receive amusement, and yet refuse to contribute their share to the entertainment. This kind of argument pushed home, brought him at last to admit that he owed the party a debt in kind, and he said: Well, friends, each man according to his nature, though there are so many men in the world they differ from one another as much as stones, no two of which are exactly alike. Here is Baruti here, who never seems to tire of speech, while I find more pleasure in watching his lips move up and down, and his tongue pop out and in, than in using my own. I cannot remember any legend, that is the truth; but I know of something which is not fiction, that occurred in our country relating to Izoka--a woman originally of Umane, the big town above Basoko. Izoka, the Queen of the Pool, as we call her, is alive now, and should you ever pass by Umane again, you may ask any of the natives if my words are true, and you will find that they will certify to what I shall now tell you. Izoka is the daughter of a chief of Umane whose name is Uyimba, and her mother is called Twekay. One of the young warriors called Koku lifted his eyes towards her, and as he had a house of his own which was empty, he thought Izoka ought to be the one to keep his hearth warm, and be his companion while he went fishing. The idea became fixed in his mind, and he applied to her father, and the dowry was demanded; and, though it was heavy, it was paid, to ease his longing after her. Now, Izoka was in every way fit to be a chief's wife. She was tall, slender, comely of person; her skin was like down to the touch, her kindly eyes brimmed over with pleasantness, her teeth were like white beads, and her ready laugh was such that all who heard it compared it to the sweet sounds of a flute which the perfect player loves to make before he begins a tune, and men's moods became merry when she passed them in the village. Well, she became Koku's wife, and she left her father's house to live with her husband. At first it seemed that they were born for one another. Though Koku was no mean fisherman, his wife excelled him in every way. Where one fish came into his net, ten entered into that of Izoka, and this great success brought him abundance. His canoe returned daily loaded with fish, and on reaching home they had as much work to clean and cure the fish as they could manage. Their daily catch would have supported quite a village of people from starving. They therefore disposed of their surplus stock by bartering it for slaves, and goats, and fowls, hoes, carved paddles, and swords; and in a short time Koku became the wealthiest among the chiefs of Umane, through the good fortune that attended Izoka in whatever she did. Most men would have considered themselves highly favoured in having such fortunate wives, but it was not so with Koku. He became a changed man. Prosperity proved his bane. He went no more with Izoka to fish; he seldom visited the market in her company, nor the fields where the slaves were at work, planting manioc, or weeding the plantain rows, or clearing the jungle, as he used to do. He was now always seen with his long pipe, and boozing with wretched idlers on the plantain wine purchased with his wife's industry; and when he came home it was to storm at his wife in such a manner that she could only bow to it in silence. When Koku was most filled with malice, he had an irritating way of disguising his spitefulness with a wicked smile, while his tongue expressed all sorts of contrary fancies. He would take delight in saying that her smooth skin was as rough as the leaf with which we polish our spear-shafts, that she was dumpy and dwarfish, that her mouth reminded him of a crocodile's, and her ears of an ape's; her legs were crooked, and her feet were like hippopotamus hoofs, and she was scorned for even her nails, which were worn to the quick with household toil; and he continued in this style to vex her, until at last he became persuaded that it was she who tormented him. Then he accused her of witchcraft. He said that it was by her witch's medicines that she caught so many fish, and he knew that some day she would poison him. Now, in our country this is a very serious accusation. However, she never crossed her husband's humour, but received the bitterness with closed lips. This silent habit of hers made matters worse. For, the more patience she showed, the louder his accusations became, and the worse she appeared in his eyes. And indeed it is no wonder. If you make up your mind that you will see naught in a wife but faults, you become blind to everything else. Her cooking also according to him was vile--there was either too much palm-oil or too little in the herb-mess, there was sand in the meat of the fish, the fowls were nothing but bones, she was said to empty the chilli-pot into the stew, the house was not clean, there were snakes in his bed--and so on and so on. Then she threatened, when her tough patience quite broke down, that she would tell her father if he did not desist, which so enraged him that he took a thick stick, and beat her so cruelly that she was nearly dead. This was too much to bear from one so ungrateful, and she resolved to elope into the woods, and live apart from all mankind. She had travelled a good two days' journey when she came in sight of a lengthy and wide pool which was fed by many springs, and bordered by tall, bending reeds; and the view of this body of water, backed by deep woods all round, appeared to her so pleasing that she chose a level place near its edge for a resting-place. Then she unstrapped her hamper, and sitting down turned out the things she had brought, and began to think of what could be done with them. There was a wedge-like axe which might also be used as an adze, there were two hoes, a handy Basoko bill-hook, a couple of small nets, a ladle, half-a-dozen small gourds full of grains, a cooking-pot, some small fish-knives, a bunch of tinder, a couple of fire-sticks, a short stick of sugar-cane, two banana bulbs, a few beads, iron bangles, and tiny copper balls. As she looked over all these things, she smiled with satisfaction and thought she would manage well enough. She then went into the pool a little way and looked searchingly in for a time, and she smiled again, as if to say "better and better." Now with her axe she cut a hoe-handle, and in a short time it was ready for use. Going to the pool-side, she commenced to make quite a large round hole. She laboured at this until the hole was as deep and wide as her own height; then she plastered the bottom evenly with the mud from the pool-bank, and after that she made a great fire at the bottom of the pit, and throughout the night that followed, after a few winks of sleep, she would rise and throw on more fuel. When the next day dawned, after breaking her fast with a few grains baked in her pot, she swept out all the fire from the well, and wherever a crack appeared in the baked bottom she filled it up carefully, and she also plastered the sides all round smoothly, and again she made a great fire in the pit, and left it to burn all that day. While the fire was baking the bottom and walls of the well, she hid her hamper among a clump of reeds, and explored her neighbourhood. During her wanderings she found a path leading northward, and she noted it. She also discovered many nuts, sweet red berries, some round, others oval and the fruit which is a delight to the elephants; and loading herself with as many of these articles as she could carry, she returned, and sat down by the mouth of the well, and refreshed herself. The last work of the day was to take out the fire, plaster up the cracks in the bottom and sides, and re-make the fire as great as ever. Her bed she made not far from it, with her axe by her side. On the next morning she determined to follow the path she had discovered the day before, and when the sun was well-nigh at the middle of the sky, she came suddenly in view of a banana-grove, whereupon she instantly retreated a little and hid herself. When darkness had well set, she rose, and penetrating the grove, cut down a large blanch of bananas, with which she hurried back along the road. When she came to a stick she had laid across the path, she knew she was not far from the pool, and she remained there until it was sufficiently light to find her way to the well. By the time she arrived at her well it was in a perfect state, the walls being as sound and well-baked as her cooking-pot. After half-filling it with water, she roasted a few bananas, and made a contented meal from them. Then taking her pot she boiled some bananas, and with these she made a batter. She now emptied the pot, smeared the bottom and sides of it thickly with this sticky batter, and then tying a vine round the pot she let it down into the pond. As soon as it touched the ground, lo! the minnows flocked greedily into the vessel to feed on the batter. And on Izoka suddenly drawing it up she brought out several score of minnows, the spawn of catfish, and some of the young of the bearded fish which grow to such an immense size in our waters. The minnows she took out and dried to serve as food, but the young of the cat and bearded fish she dropped into her well. She next dug a little ditch from the well to the pool, and after making a strong and close netting of cane splinters across the mouth of the ditch, she made another narrow ditch to let a thin rillet of spring water supply the well with fresh water. Every day she spent a little time in building a hut, in a cosy place surrounded by bush, which had only one opening; then she would go and work a little at a garden wherein she had planted the sugar-cane, which had been cut into three parts, and the two banana bulbs, and had sowed her millet, and her sesamum, and yellow corn which she had brought in the gourds, and every day she carefully fed her fish in the well. But there were three things she missed most in her loneliness, and these were the cries of an infant, the proud cluck of the hen after she lays an egg, and the bleating of a kid at her threshold. This made her think that she might replace them by something else, and she meditated long upon what it might be. Observing that there were a number of ground-squirrels about, she thought of snares to catch them. She accordingly made loops of slender but strong vines near the roots of the trees, and across their narrow tracks in the woods. And she succeeded at last in catching a pair. With other vines rubbed over with bird-lime she caught some young parrots and wagtails, whose wing feathers she chopped off with her bill-hook. And one day, while out gathering nuts and berries for her birds, she came across a nest of the pelican, wherein were some eggs; and these she resolved to watch until they were hatched, when she would take and rear them. She had found full occupation for her mind, in making cages for her squirrels and birds, and providing them with food, and had no time at all for grief. Izoka, however, being very partial to the fish in her well, devoted most of her leisure to feeding them, and they became so tame, and intelligent that they understood the cooing notes of a strange song which she taught them, as though they were human beings. She fed them plentifully with banana-batter, so that in a few months they had grown into a goodly size. By-and-by, they became too large for the well, and as they were perfectly tame, she took them out, and allowed them to go at large in the pool; but punctually in the early morning, and at noon and sunset, she called them to her, and gave them their daily portion of food, for by this time she had a goodly store of bananas and grain from her plantation and garden. One of the largest fish she called Munu, and he was so intelligent and trustful in his mistress's hands that he disliked going very far from the neighbourhood; and if she laid her two hands in the water, he would rest contentedly in the hollow thus formed. She had also strung her stock of shells and beads into necklaces, and had fastened them round the tails of her favourite fish. Her other friends grew quite as tame as the fish, for all kinds of animals learn to cast off their fears of mankind in return for true kindness, and when no disturbing shocks alarm them. And in this lonely place, so sheltered by protecting woods, where the wind had scarce power to rustle the bending reed and hanging leaves, there was no noise to inspire the most timid with fright. If you try, you can fancy this young woman Izoka sitting on the ground by the pool-side, surrounded by her friends, like a mother by her offspring. In her arms a young pelican, on one shoulder a chattering parrot, on the other a sharp-eyed squirrel, sitting on his haunches, licking his fore-feet; in her lap another playing with his bushy tail, and at her feet the wagtails, wagging friskily their hind parts and kicking up little showers of dusty soil. Between her and the pool a long-legged heron, who has long ago been snared, and has submitted to his mistress's kindness, and now stands on one leg, as though he were watching for her safety. Not far behind her is her woodland home, well stored with food and comforts, which are the products of her skill and care. Swifts and sand-martins are flying about, chasing one another merrily, and making the place ring with their pipings; the water of the pool lies level and unwrinkled, save in front of her, where the fish sometimes flop about, impatient for their mistress's visit. This was how she appeared one day to the cruel eyes of Koku her husband, who had seen the smoke of her fire as he was going by the path which led to the north. Being a woodman as well as a fisher, he had the craft of such as hunt, and he stealthily approached from tree to tree until he was so near that he could see the beady eyes of the squirrel on her shoulder, who startled her by his sudden movements. It was strange how quickly the alarm was communicated from one to another. His brother squirrel peeped from one side with his tail over his back like a crest, the parrot turned one eye towards the tree behind which Koku stood, and appeared transfixed, the heron dropped his other leg to the ground, tittered his melancholy cry, _Kwa-le_, and dropped his tail as though he would surge upward. The wagtails stopped their curtseying, the pelicans turned their long bills and laid them lazily along their backs, looking fixedly at the tree; and at last Izoka, warned by all these signs of her friends, also turned her head in the same direction, but she saw no one, and as it was sunset she took her friends indoors. Presently she came out again, and went to the pool-side with fish-food, and cooed softly to her friends in the water, and the fish rushed to her call, and crowded around her. After giving them their food, she addressed Munu, the largest fish, and said, "I am going out to-night to see if I cannot find a discarded cooking-vessel, for mine is broken. Beware of making friends with any man or woman who cannot repeat the song I taught you," and the fish replied by sweeping his tail to right and left, according to his way. Izoka, who now knew the woods by night as well as by day, proceeded on her journey, little suspecting that Koku had discovered her, and her manner of life and woodland secrets. He waited a little time, then crept to the pool-side, and repeated the song which she had sung, and immediately there was a great rush of fish towards him, at the number and size of which he was amazed. By this he perceived what chance of booty there was here for him, and he sped away to the path to the place where he had left his men, and he cried out to them, "Come, haste with me to the woods by a great pool, where I have discovered loads of fish." His men were only too glad to obey him, and by midnight they had all arrived at the pool. After stationing them near him in a line, with their spears poised to strike, Koku sang the song of Izoka in a soft voice, and the great and small fish leapt joyfully from the depths where they were sleeping, and they thronged towards the shore, flinging themselves over each other, and they stood for awhile gazing doubtfully up at the line of men. But soon the cruel spears flew from their hands, and Munu, the pride of Izoka, was pierced by several, and was killed and dragged on land by the shafts of the weapons which had slain him. Munu was soon cut up, he and some others of his fellows, and the men, loading themselves with the meat, hastily departed. Near morning Izoka returned to her home with a load of bananas and a cooking-vessel, and after a short rest and refreshment, she fed her friends--the ground-squirrels, the young pelicans, the parrots and herons, and scattered a generous supply for the wagtails, and martins, and swifts; then hastened with her bounties to the pool-side. But, alas! near the water's edge there was a sight which almost caused her to faint--there were tracks of many feet, bruised reeds, blood, scales, and refuse of fish. She cooed softly to her friends; they heard her cry, but approached slowly and doubtingly. She called out to Munu, "Munu-nunu, oh, Munu, Munu, Munu;" but Munu came not, and the others stood well away from the shore, gazing at her reproachfully, and they would not advance any nearer. Perceiving that they distrusted her, she threw herself on the ground and wept hot tears, and wailing, "Oh! Munu, Munu, Munu, why do you doubt me?" When Izoka's grief had somewhat subsided she followed the tracks through the woods until she came to the path, where they were much clearer, and there she discovered that those who had violated her peaceful home, had travelled towards Umane. A suspicion that her husband must have been of the number served to anger her still more, and she resolved to follow the plunderers, and endeavour to obtain justice. Swiftly she sped on the trail, and after many hours' quick travel she reached Umane after darkness had fallen. This favoured her purpose, and she was able to steal, unperceived, near to the open place in front of her husband's house, when she saw Koku and his friends feasting on fish, and heard him boast of his discovery of the fine fish in a forest pool. In her fury at his daring villainy she was nearly tempted to rush upon him and cleave his head with her bill-hook, but she controlled herself, and sat down to think. Then she made the resolution that she would go to her father and claim his protection--a privilege she might long ago have used had not her pride been wounded by the brutal treatment her person had received at the hands of Koku. Her father's village was but a little distance away from Umane, and in a short time all the people in it were startled by hearing the shrill voice of one who was believed to be long ago dead, crying out in the darkness the names of Uyimba and Twekay. On hearing the names of their chief and his wife repeatedly called, the men seized their spears and sallied out, and discovered, to their astonishment, that the long-lost Izoka was amongst them once again, and that she was suffering from great and overpowering grief. They led her to her father's door, and called out to Uyimba and his wife Twekay to come out, and receive her, saying that it was a shame that the pride of Umane should be suffering like a slave in her father's own village. The old man and his wife hurried out, torches were lit, and Twekay soon received her weeping daughter in her arms. In our country we are not very patient in presence of news, and as everybody wished to know Izoka's story, she was made to sit down on a shield, and tell all her adventures since she had eloped from Umane. The people listened in wonder to all the strange things that were told; but when she related the cruelty of Koku, the men rose to their feet all together, and beat their shields with their spears, and demanded the punishment of Koku, and that Uyimba should lead them there and then to Umane. They accordingly proceeded in a body to the town, to Koku's house, and as he came out in answer to the call of one of them, to ascertain what the matter was, they fell upon him, and bound him hand and foot, and carrying him to their superior chief's house they put him to his trial. Many witnesses came forward to testify against his cruel treatment of Izoka, and of the robbery of the fish and of the manner of it; and the great chief placed Koku's life in the power of Uyimba, whose daughter he had wronged, who at once ordered Koku to be beheaded, and his body to be thrown into the river. The sentence was executed at the river-side without loss of time. The people of Uman and Uyimba's village then demanded that, as Izoka had shown herself so clever and good as to make birds, animals, and fish obey her voice, some mark of popular favour should be given to her. Whereupon the principal chief of Umane, in the name of the tribe, ceded to her all rights to the Forest Pool, and the wood and all things in it round about as far as she could travel in half a day, and also all the property of which Koku stood possessed. Izoka, by the favour of her tribe, thus became owner of a large district, and mistress of many slaves, and flocks, goats, and fowls, and all manner of useful things for making a settlement by the Pool. There is now a large village there, and Izoka is well known in many lands near Umane and Basoko as the Queen of the Pool, and at last accounts was still living, prosperous and happy; but she has never been known to try marriage again. Kassim's story was greatly applauded, and he became at once a favourite with the Zanzibaris. He was drawn towards the head man, and made to sit down by him. One Zanzibari gave him a handful of roasted peanuts, another gave him a roasted banana, while a third touched up the fire; and the compliments he received were so many, that for the time, as one could see, he was quite vain. When a royal Dabwani cloth was spread out for inspection, and finally flung over his shoulders, we saw him cast a look at Baruti, which we knew to mean, "Ah, ah, Baruti, other folk can tell a story as well as you!" CHAPTER FOUR. THE ELEPHANT AND THE LION. At a camp on the Upper Congo, in 1877, Chakanja drew near our fire as story-telling was about to begin, and was immediately beset with eager demands for a tale from him. Like a singer who always professes to have a cold before he indulges his friends with a song, Chakanja needed more than a few entreaties; but finally, after vowing that he never could remember anything, he consented to gratify us with the legend of the Elephant and the Lion. "Well," he answered, with a deep sigh, "if I must, I must. You must know we Waganda are fond of three things--To have a nice wife, a pleasant farm, and to hear good news, or a lively story. I have heard a great many stories in my life, but unlike Kadu, my mind remembers them not. Men's heads are not the same, any more than men's hearts are alike. But I take it that a poor tale is better than none. It comes back to me like a dream, this tale of the Elephant and the Lion. I heard it first when on a visit to Gabunga's; but who can tell it like him? If you think the tale is not well told, it is my fault; but then, do not blame me too much, or I shall think I ought to blame you to-morrow when it will be your turn to amuse the party." Now open your ears! A huge and sour-tempered elephant went and wandered in the forest. His inside was slack for want of juicy roots and succulent reeds, but his head was as full of dark thoughts as a gadfly is full of blood. As he looked this way and that, he observed a young lion asleep at the foot of a tree. He regarded him for awhile, then, as he was in a wicked mood, it came to him that he might as well kill the lion, and he accordingly rushed forward and impaled him with his tusks. He then lifted the body with his trunk, swung it about, and dashed it against the tree, and afterwards kneeled on it until it became as shapeless as a crushed banana pulp. He then laughed and said, "Ha! ha! This is a proof that I am strong. I have killed a lion, and people will say proud things of me, and will wonder at my strength." Presently a brother elephant came up and greeted him. "See," said the first elephant, "what I have done. It was I that killed him. I lifted him on high, and lo, he lies like a rotten banana. Do you not think that I am very strong? Come, be frank now, and give me some credit for what I have done." Elephant Number 2 replied, "It is true that you are strong, but that was only a young lion. There are others of his kind, and I have seen them, who would give you considerable trouble." "Ho, ho!" laughed the first elephant, "Get out, stupid. You may bring his whole tribe here, and I will show you what I can do. Ay! and to your dam to boot." "What? My own mother, too?" "Yes. Go and fetch her if you like." "Well, well," said Number 2, "you are far gone, there is no doubt. Fare you well." Number 2 proceeded on his wanderings, resolved in his own mind that if he had an opportunity he would send some one to test the boaster's strength. No. I called out to him as he moved off-- "Away you go. Good-by to you." In a little while Number 2 Elephant met a lion and lioness, full-grown, and splendid creatures, who turned out to be the parents of the youngster which had been slain. After a sociable chat with them, he said: "If you go further on along the path I came you will meet a kind of game which requires killing badly. He has just mangled your cub." Meantime Elephant Number 1, after chuckling to himself very conceitedly, proceeded to the pool near by to bathe and cool himself. At every step he went you could hear his "Ha, ha, ha! loh! I have killed a lion!" While he was in the pool, spurting the water in a shower over his back, he suddenly looked up, and at the water's edge beheld a lion and lioness who were regarding him sternly. "Well! What do you want?" he asked. "Why are you standing there looking at me in that way?" "Are you the rogue who killed our child?" they asked. "Perhaps I am," he answered. "Why do you want to know?" "Because we are in search of him. If it be you that did it, you will have to do the same to us before you leave this ground." "Ho! ho!" laughed the elephant loudly. "Well, hark. It was I who killed your cub. Come now, it was I. Do you hear? And if you do not leave here mighty quick, I shall have to serve you both in the same way as I served him." The lions roared aloud in their fury, and switched their tails violently. "Ho, ho!" laughed the elephant gaily. "This is grand. There is no doubt I shall run soon, they make me so skeery," and he danced round the pool and jeered at them, then drank a great quantity of water and blew it in a shower over them. The lions stirred not, but kept steadfastly gazing at him, planning how to make their attack. Perceiving that they were obstinate, he threw another stream of water over the lions and then backed into the deepest part of the pool, until there was nothing seen of him but the tip of his trunk. When he rose again the lions were still watching him, and had not moved. "Ho, ho!" he trumpeted, "still there! Wait a little, I am coming to you." He advanced towards the shore, but when he was close enough the lion sire sprang into the air, and alighted on the elephant's back, and furiously tore at the muscles of the neck, and bit deep into the shoulder. The elephant retreated quickly into the deepest part of the pool, and submerged himself and his enemy, until the lion was compelled to abandon his back and begin to swim ashore. No sooner had the elephant felt himself relieved, than he rose to the surface, and hastily followed and seized the lion with his trunk. Despite his struggles he was pressed beneath the surface, dragged under his knees, and trodden into the mud, and in a short time the lion sire was dead. The elephant laughed triumphantly, and cried, "Ho, ho! am I not strong, Ma Lion? Did you ever see the likes of me before? Two of you! Young Lion and Pa Lion are now killed! Come, Ma Lion, had you not better try now, just to see if you won't have better luck? Come on, old woman, just once." The lioness fiercely answered, while she retreated from the pool, "Rest where you are. I am going to find my brother, and will be back shortly." The elephant trumpeted his scorn of her and her kind, and seizing the carcase of her lord, flung it on shore after her, and declared his readiness to abide where he was, that he might make mash of all the lion family. In a short time the lioness had found her brother, who was a mighty fellow, and full of fight. As they advanced near the pool together, they consulted as to the best means of getting at the elephant. Then the lioness sprang forward to the edge of the pool. The elephant retreated a short distance into deeper water. The lioness upon this crept along the pool, and pretended to lap the water. The elephant moved towards her. The lion waited his chance, and finally, with a great roar, sprang upon his shoulders, and commenced tearing away at the very place which had been torn by lion sire. The elephant backed quickly into deep water as he had done before, and submerged himself, but the lion maintained his hold and bit deeper. The elephant then sank down until there was nothing to be seen but the tip of his trunk, upon which the lion, to avoid suffocation, relaxed his hold and swam vigorously towards shore. The elephant rose up, and as the lion was stepping on shore, seized him, and drove one of his tusks through his adversary's body; but as he was in the act, the lioness sprang upon the elephant's neck, and bit and tore so furiously that he fell dead, and with his fall crushed the dying lion. Soon after the close of the terrible combat, Elephant Number 2 came up, and discovered the lioness licking her chops and paws, and said-- "Hello, it seems there has been quite a quarrel here lately. Three lions are dead, and here lies one of my own kind, stiffening." "Yes," replied lioness, gloomily, "the rogue elephant killed my cub while the little fellow was asleep in the woods. He then killed my husband and brother, and I killed him; but I do not think the elephant has gained much by fighting with us. I did not have much trouble in killing him. Should you meet any friends of his, you may warn them to leave the lioness alone, or she may be tempted to make short work of them." Elephant Number 2, though a patient person generally, was annoyed at this, and gave her a sudden kick with one of his hind feet, which sent her sprawling a good distance off, and asked-- "How do you like that, Ma Lion?" "What do you mean by that?" demanded the enraged lioness. "Oh, because I hate to hear so much bragging." "Do you also wish to fight?" she asked. "We should never talk about doing an impossible thing, Ma Lion," he answered. "I have travelled many years through these woods, and I have never fought yet. I find that when a person minds his own business he seldom comes to trouble, and when I meet one who is even stronger than myself I greet him pleasantly, and pass on, and I should advise you to do the same, Ma Lion." "You are saucy, Elephant. It would be well for you to think upon your stupid brother there, who lies so stark under your nose, before you trouble with your insolence one who slew him." "Well, words never yet made a plantation; it is the handling of a hoe that makes fields. See here, Ma Lion, if I talked to you all day I could not make you wise. I will just turn my back to you. If you will bite me, you will soon learn how weak you are." The lioness, angered still more by the elephant's contempt, sprang at his shoulders, and clung to him, upon which he rushed at a stout tree, and pressing his shoulders against it, crushed the breath out of her body, and she ceased her struggles. When he relaxed his pressure, the body fell to the ground, and he knelt upon it, and kneaded it until every bone was broken. While the elephant was meditatively standing over the body, and thinking what misfortunes happen to boasters, a man came along, carrying a spear, and seeing that the elephant was unaware of his presence, he thought what great luck had happened to him. Said he, "Ah, what fine tusks he has. I shall be rich with them, and shall buy slaves and cattle, and with these I will get a wife and a farm," saying which he advanced silently, and when he was near enough, darted his spear into a place behind the shoulder. The elephant turned around quickly, and on beholding his enemy rushed after and overtook him, and mauled him, until in a few moments he was a mangled corpse. Soon after a woman approached, and seeing four lions, one elephant, and her husband dead, she raised up her hands wonderingly and cried, "How did all this happen?" The elephant, hearing her voice, came from behind a tree, with a spear quivering in his side, and bleeding profusely. At the sight of him the woman turned round to fly, but the elephant cried out to her, "Nay, run not, woman, for I can do you no harm. The happy days in the woods are ended for all the tribes. The memory of this scene will never be forgotten. Animals will be henceforth at constant war one with another. Lions will no more greet elephants, the buffaloes will be shy, the rhinoceroses will live apart, and man when he comes within the shadows will think of nothing else than his terrors, and he will fancy an enemy in every shadow. I am sorely wounded, for thy man stole up to my side and drove his spear into me, and soon I shall die." When she had heard these words the woman hastened home, and all the villagers, old and young, hurried into the woods, by the pool, where they found four lions, two elephants, and one of their own tribe lying still and lifeless. The words of the elephant have turned out to be true, for no man goes now-a-days into the silent and deserted woods but he feels as though something were haunting them, and thinks of goblinry, and starts at every sound. Out of the shadows which shift with the sun, forms seem crawling and phantoms appear to glide, and we are in a fever almost from the horrible illusions of fancy. We breathe quickly and fear to speak, for the smallest vibration in the silence would jar on our nerves. I speak the truth, for when I am in the woods near the night, there swims before my eyes a multitude of terrible things which I never see by the light of day. The flash of a fire-fly is a ghost, the chant of a frog becomes a frightful roar, the sudden piping of a bird signalises murder, and I run. No, no; no woods for me when alone. And Chakanja rose to his feet and went to his own quarters, solemnly shaking his head. But we all smiled at Chakanja, and thought how terribly frightened he would be if any one suddenly rose from behind a dark bush and cried "Boo!" to him. CHAPTER FIVE. KING GUMBI AND HIS LOST DAUGHTER. We were all gathered about the fire as usual, when Safeni, the sage coxswain, exclaimed, "See here, boys; do you not think that for once in a while it would be well to hear some legend connected with men and women? I vote that one of you who have amused us with tales of lions and leopards, should search his memory, and tell the company a brave story about some son of Adam. Come, you Katembo, have the Manyema no legends!" "Well, yes, we have; but my ears have been so open heretofore that my tongue has almost forgotten its uses, and I fear that after the smooth and delightful tales of Kadu, you will not think me expert in speech. However, and if you care to hear of it, I can give you the legend of Gumbi, one of our kings in long-past days, and his daughter." "Speak, speak, Katembo," cried the company; "let us hear a Manyema legend to-night." Katembo, after this general invitation, cleared his throat, brought the soles of his feet nearer the fire, and amid respectful silence spoke as follows:-- It was believed in the olden time that if a king's daughter had the misfortune to be guilty of ten mistakes, she should suffer for half of them, and her father would be punished for the rest. Now, King Gumbi had lately married ten wives, and all at once this old belief of the elders about troubles with daughters came into his head, and he issued a command, which was to be obeyed upon pain of death, that if any female children should be born to him they should be thrown into the Lualaba, and drowned, for, said he, "the dead are beyond temptation to err, and I shall escape mischief." To avoid the reproaches of his wives, on account of the cruel order, the king thought he would absent himself, and he took a large following with him and went to visit other towns of his country. Within a few days after his departure there were born to him five sons and five daughters. Four of the female infants were at once disposed of according to the king's command; but when the fifth daughter was born, she was so beautiful, and had such great eyes, and her colour was mellow, so like a ripe banana, that the chief nurse hesitated, and when the mother pleaded so hard for her child's life, she made up her mind that the little infant should be saved. When the mother was able to rise, the nurse hastened her away secretly by night. In the morning the queen found herself in a dark forest, and, being alone, she began to talk to herself, as people generally do, and a grey parrot with a beautiful red tail came flying along, and asked, "What is it you are saying to yourself, O Miami?" She answered and said, "Ah, beautiful little parrot, I am thinking what I ought to do to save the life of my little child. Tell me how I can save her, for Gumbi wishes to destroy all his female children." The parrot replied, "I grieve for you greatly, but I do not know. Ask the next parrot you see," and he flew away. A second parrot still more beautiful came flying towards her, whistling and screeching merrily, and the queen lifted her voice and cried-- "Ah, little parrot, stop a bit, and tell me how I can save my sweet child's life; for cruel Gumbi, her father, wants to kill it." "Ah, mistress, I may not tell; but there is one comes behind me who knows; ask him," and he also flew to his day's haunts. Then the third parrot was seen to fly towards her, and he made the forest ring with his happy whistling, and Miami cried out again-- "Oh, stay, little parrot, and tell me in what way I can save my sweet child, for Gumbi, her father, vows he will kill it." "Deliver it to me," answered the parrot. "But first let me put a small banana stalk and two pieces of sugar-cane with it, and then I shall carry it safely to its grandmamma." The parrot relieved the queen of her child, and flew through the air, screeching merrier than before, and in a short time had laid the little princess, her banana stalk, and two pieces of sugar-cane in the lap of the grandmamma, who was sitting at the door of her house, and said-- "This bundle contains a gift from your daughter, wife of Gumbi. She bids you be careful of it, and let none out of your own family see it, lest she should be slain by the king. And to remember this day, she requests you to plant the banana stalk in your garden at one end, and at the other end the two pieces of sugar-cane, for you may need both." "Your words are good and wise," answered granny, as she received the babe. On opening the bundle the old woman discovered a female child, exceedingly pretty, plump, and yellow as a ripe banana, with large black eyes, and such smiles on its bright face that the grandmother's heart glowed with affection for it. Many seasons came and went by. No stranger came round to ask questions. The banana flourished and grew into a grove, and each sprout marked the passage of a season, and the sugar-cane likewise throve prodigiously as year after year passed and the infant grew into girlhood. When the princess had bloomed into a beautiful maiden, the grandmother had become so old that the events of long ago appeared to her to be like so many dreams, but she still worshipped her child's child, cooked for her, waited upon her, wove new grass mats for her bed, and fine grass-cloths for her dress, and every night before she retired she washed her dainty feet. Then one day, before her ears were quite closed by age, and her limbs had become too weak to bear her about, the parrot who brought the child to her, came and rested upon a branch near her door, and after piping and whistling its greeting, cried out, "The time has come. Gumbi's daughter must depart, and seek her father. Furnish her with a little drum, teach her a song to sing while she beats it, and send her forth." Then granny purchased for her a tiny drum, and taught her a song, and when she had been fully instructed she prepared a new canoe with food-- from the bananas in the grove, and the plot of sugar-cane, and she made cushions from grass-cloth bags stuffed with silk-cotton floss for her to rest upon. When all was ready she embraced her grand-daughter, and with many tears sent her away down the river, with four women servants. Granny stood for a long time by the river bank, watching the little canoe disappear with the current, then she turned and entered the doorway, and sitting down closed her eyes, and began to think of the pleasant life she had enjoyed while serving Miami's child; and while so doing she was so pleased that she smiled, and as she smiled she slept, and never woke again. But the princess, as she floated down and bathed her eyes, which had smarted with her grief, began to think of all that granny had taught her, and began to sing in a fluty voice, as she beat her tiny drum-- "List, all you men, To the song I sing. I am Gumbi's child, Brought up in the wild; And home I return, As you all will learn, When this my little drum Tells Gumbi I have come, come, come." The sound of her drum attracted the attention of the fishermen who were engaged with their nets, and seeing a strange canoe with only five women aboard floating down the river, they drew near to it, and when they saw how beautiful the princess was, and noted her graceful, lithe figure clad in robes of fine grass-cloths, they were inclined to lay their hands upon her. But she sang again-- "I am Gumbi's child, Make way for me; I am homeward bound, Make way for me." Then the fishermen were afraid and did not molest her. But one desirous of being the first to carry the news to the king, and obtain favour and a reward for it, hastened away to tell him that his daughter was coming to visit him. The news plunged King Gumbi into a state of wonder, for as he had taken such pains to destroy all female children, he could not imagine how he could be the father of a daughter. Then he sent a quick-footed and confidential slave to inquire, who soon returned and assured him that the girl who was coming to him was his own true daughter. Then he sent a man who had grown up with him, who knew all that had happened in his court; and he also returned and confirmed all that the slave had said. Upon this he resolved to go himself, and when he met her he asked-- "Who art thou, child?" And she replied, "I am the only daughter of Gumbi." "And who is Gumbi?" "He is the king of this country," she replied. "Well, but I am Gumbi myself, and how canst thou be my daughter?" he asked. "I am the child of thy wife, Miami, and after I was born she hid me that I might not be cast into the river. I have been living with grandmamma, who nursed me, and by the number of banana-stalks in her garden thou mayest tell the number of the seasons that have passed since my birth. One day she told me the time had come, and she sent me to seek my father; and I embarked in the canoe with four servants, and the river bore me to this land." "Well," said Gumbi, "when I return home I shall question Miami, and I shall soon discover the truth of thy story; but meantime, what must I do for thee?" "My grandmamma said that thou must sacrifice a goat to the meeting of the daughter with the father," she replied. Then the king requested her to step on the shore, and when he saw the flash of her yellow feet, and the gleams of her body, which were like shining bright gum, and gazed on the clear, smooth features, and looked into the wondrous black eyes, Gumbi's heart melted and he was filled with pride that such a surpassingly beautiful creature should be his own daughter. But she refused to set her feet on the shore until another goat had been sacrificed, for her grandmother had said ill-luck would befall her if these ceremonies were neglected. Therefore the king commanded that two goats should be slain, one for the meeting with his daughter, and one to drive away ill-luck from before her in the land where she would first rest her feet. When this had been done, she said, "Now, father, it is not meet that thy recovered daughter should soil her feet on the path to her father's house. Thou must lay a grass-cloth along the ground all the way to my mother's door." The king thereupon ordered a grass-cloth to be spread along the path towards the women's quarters, but he did not mention to which doorway. His daughter then moved forward, the king by her side, until they came in view of all the king's wives, and then Gumbi cried out to them--"One of you, I am told, is the mother of this girl. Look on her, and be not ashamed to own her, for she is as perfect as the egg. At the first sight of her I felt like a man filled with pleasantness, so let the mother come forward and claim her, and let her not destroy herself with a lie." Now all the women bent forward and longed to say, "She is mine, she is mine!" but Miami, who was ill and weak, sat at the door, and said-- "Continue the matting to my doorway, for as I feel my heart is connected with her as by a cord, she must be the child whom the parrot carried to my mother with a banana stalk and two pieces of sugar-cane." "Yes, yes, thou must be my own mother," cried the princess; and when the grass-cloth was laid even to the inside of the house, she ran forward, and folded her arms around her. When Gumbi saw them together he said, "Truly, equals always come together. I see now by many things that the princess must be right. But she will not long remain with me, I fear, for a king's daughter cannot remain many moons without suitors." Now though Gumbi considered it a trifle to destroy children whom he had never seen, it never entered into his mind to hurt Miami or the princess. On the contrary, he was filled with a gladness which he was never tired of talking about. He was even prouder of his daughter, whose lovely shape and limpid eyes so charmed him, than of all his tall sons. He proved this by the feasts he caused to be provided for all the people. Goats were roasted and stewed, the fishermen brought fish without number, the peasants came loaded with weighty bunches of bananas, and baskets of yams, and manioc, and pots full of beans, and vetches, and millet and corn, and honey and palm-oil, and as for the fowls--who could count them? The people also had plenty to drink of the juice of the palm, and thus they were made to rejoice with the king in the return of the princess. It was soon spread throughout Manyema that no woman was like unto Gumbi's daughter for beauty. Some said that she was of the colour of a ripe banana, others that she was like fossil gum, others like a reddish oil-nut, and others again that her face was more like the colour of the moon than anything else. The effect of this reputation was to bring nearly all the young chiefs in the land as suitors for her hand. Many of them would have been pleasing to the king, but the princess was averse to them, and she caused it to be made known that she would marry none save the young chief who could produce matako (brass rods) by polishing his teeth. The king was very much amused at this, but the chiefs stared in surprise as they heard it. The king mustered the choicest young men of the land, and he told them it was useless for any one to hope to be married to the princess unless he could drop brass rods by rubbing his teeth. Though they held it to be impossible that any one could do such a thing, yet every one of them began to rub his teeth hard, and as they did so, lo! brass rods were seen to drop on the ground from the mouth of one of them, and the people gave a great shout for wonder at it. The princess was then brought forward, and as the young chief rose to his feet he continued to rub his teeth, and the brass rods were heard to tinkle as they fell to the ground. The marriage was therefore duly proceeded with, and another round of feasts followed, for the king was rich in flocks of goats, and sheep, and in well-tilled fields and slaves. But after the first moon had waned and gone, the husband said, "Come, now, let us depart, for Gumbi's land is no home for me." And unknown to Gumbi they prepared for flight, and stowed their canoe with all things needful for a long journey, and one night soon after dark they embarked, and paddled down the river. One day the princess, while she was seated on her cushions, saw a curious nut floating near the canoe, upon which she sprang into the river to obtain it. It eluded her grasp. She swam after it, and the chief followed her as well as he was able, crying out to her to return to the canoe, as there were dangerous animals in the water. But she paid no heed to him, and continued to swim after the nut, until, when she had arrived opposite a village, the princess was hailed by an old woman, who cried, "Ho, princess, I have got what thou seekest. See." And she held the nut up in her hand. Then the princess stepped on shore, and her husband made fast his canoe to the bank. "Give it to me," demanded the princess, holding out her hand. "There is one thing thou must do for me before thou canst obtain it." "What is that?" she asked. "Thou must lay thy hands upon my bosom to cure me of my disease. Only thus canst thou have it," the old woman said. The princess laid her hands upon her bosom, and as she did so the old woman was cured of her illness. "Now thou mayest depart on thy journey, but remember what I tell thee. Thou and thy husband must cling close to this side of the river until thou comest abreast of an island which is in the middle of the entrance to a great lake. For the shore thou seekest is on this side. Once there thou wilt find peace and rest for many years. But if thou goest to the other side of the river thou wilt be lost, thou and thy husband." Then they re-embarked, and the river ran straight and smooth before them. After some days they discovered that the side they were on was uninhabited, and that their provisions were exhausted, but the other side was cultivated, and possessed many villages and plantations. Forgetting the advice of the old woman, they crossed the river to the opposite shore, and they admired the beauty of the land, and joyed in the odours that came from the gardens and the plantations, and they dreamily listened to the winds that crumpled and tossed the great fronds of banana, and fancied that they had seen no sky so blue. And while they thus dreamed, lo! the river current was bearing them both swiftly along, and they saw the island which was at the entrance to the great lake, and in an instant the beauty of the land which had charmed them had died away, and they now heard the thunderous booming of waters, and saw them surging upward in great sweeps, and one great wave curved underneath them, and they were lifted up, up, up, and dropped down into the roaring abyss, and neither chief nor princess was ever seen again. They were both swallowed up in the deep. "Is _that_ all?" asked Safeni, who had been listening breathlessly to the story. "That is all," replied Katembo. "Why, what kind of a story is this, that finishes in that way?" "It is not mine," answered Katembo. "The telling of it has been according to the words I heard, and it is not good to alter a tale." "Then what is the object of such a story?" demanded Safeni, in an irritable tone. "Why, to warn people from following their inclinations. Did not the girl find her father? Did not her father welcome her, and pardon the mother for very joy? Was not her own choice of a husband found for her? Was not the young chief fortunate in possessing such a beautiful wife? Why should they have become discontented? Why not have stayed at home instead of wandering into strange lands of which they knew nothing? Did not the old woman warn them of what would happen, and point to them how they might live in peace once again? But it was all to no purpose. We never know the value of anything until we have lost it. Ruin follows the wilful always. They left their home and took to the river, the river was not still, but moved on, and as their heads were already full of their own thoughts, they could not keep advice. But Katembo has ended." CHAPTER SIX. THE STORY OF MARANDA. "Master," said Baruti, "I have been trying hard to recall some of the other legends I used to hear when I was very small, and I now recollect one, which is not very long, about Maranda, a wife of one of the Basoko warriors, called Mafala." Maranda's father was named Sukila, and he lived in the village of Chief Busandiya. Sukila owned a fine large canoe and many paddles, which he had carved with his own hand. He possessed also several long nets which he himself also made, besides spears, knives, a store of grass-cloths, and a few slaves. He was highly respected by his countrymen, and sat by the chief's side in the council place. As the girl grew to be fit for marriage, Mafala thought she would suit him as a wife, and went and spoke of it to Sukila, who demanded a slave girl, six long paddles ornamented with ivory caps, six goats, as many grass-cloths as he had fingers and toes, a new shield, two axes, and two field-hoes. Mafala tried to reduce the demand, and walked backwards and forwards many times to smoke pipes with Sukila, and get him to be less exacting. But the old man knew his daughter was worth the price he had put upon her, and that if he refused Mafala, she would not remain long without a suitor. For a girl like Maranda is not often seen among the Basokos. Her limbs were round and smooth, and ended in thin, small hands and feet. The young men often spoke about Maranda's light, straight feet, and quick-lifting step. A boy's arm could easily enclose the slim waist, and the manner in which she carried her head, and the supple neck and the clear look in her eyes belonged to Maranda only. Mafala, on the other hand, was curiously unlike her. He always seemed set on something, and the lines between the eyebrows gave him a severe face, not pleasant to see, and you always caught something in his eyes that made you think of the glitter which is in a serpent's eye. Perhaps that was one reason why Sukila did not care to have him for his daughter's husband. At any rate, he would not abate his price one grass-cloth, and at last it was paid, and Maranda passed over from her father's house into that of her husband. Soon after, the marriage Maranda was heard to cry out, and it was whispered that she had learned much about Mafala in a few days, and that blows as from a rod had been heard. Half a moon passed away, and then all the village knew that Maranda had fled to Busandiya's house, because of her husband's ill-treatment. Now the custom in such a case is that the father keeps his daughter's dowry, and if it be true that a wife finds life with her husband too harsh to be borne, she may seek the chief's protection, and the chief may give her to another husband who will treat her properly. But before the chief had chosen the man to whom he would give her, Mafala went to a crocodile--for it turned out that he was a Mganga, a witch-man who had dealings with reptiles on land, as well as with the monsters of the river,--and he bargained with it to catch her as she came to the river to wash, and carry her up to a certain place on the river bank where there was a tall tree with a large hole in it. The crocodile bided his chance, and one morning, when Maranda visited the water, he seized her by the hand, and swept her onto his back, and carried her to the hiding-place in the hollow tree. He then left her there, and swam down opposite the village, and signalled to Mafala that he had performed his part of the bargain. On the crocodile's departure Maranda looked about the hole, and saw that she was in a kind of pit, but a long way up the hollow narrowed like the neck of a gourd, and she could see foliage and a bit of sky. She determined to climb up, and though she scratched herself very much, she finally managed to reach the very top, and to crawl outside into the air. The tree was very large and lofty, and the branches spread out far, and they were laden with the heavy fruit of which elephants are so fond [the jackfruit]. At first she thought that she could not starve because of so many of these big fruit; then, as they were large and heavy, she conceived the idea that they might be useful to defend herself, and she collected a great number of them, and laid them in a heap over some sticks she had laid across the branches. By-and-by Mafala came, and discovered her high up among the foliage, and after jeering at her, began to climb the tree. But when he was only half-way up, Maranda lifted one of the ponderous fruit and flung it on his head, and he fell to the ground with his senses all in a whirl and his back greatly bruised. When he recovered he begged the crocodile to help him, and he tried to climb up, but when he had ascended but a little way, Maranda dropped one of the elephant fruit fairly on his snout, which sent him falling backwards. Mafala then begged two great serpents to ascend and bring her down, but Maranda met them with the heavy fruit one after another, and they were glad to leave her alone. Then the man departed to seek a leopard, but while he was absent Maranda, from her tree, saw a canoe on the river with two young fishermen in it, and she screamed loudly for help. The fishermen paddled close ashore and found that it was Sukila's daughter, the wife of Mafala, who was alone on a tall tree. They waited long enough to hear her story, and then returned to the village to obtain assistance. Busandiya was much astonished to hear the fishermen's news, and forthwith sent a war-canoe full of armed men, led by the father, Sukila, to rescue her. By means of rattan-climbers they contrived to reach her, and to bring her down safely. While some of the war-party set out to discover Mafala, the others watched for the crocodile and the two serpents. In a short time the cruel man was seen and caught, and he was brought to the river-side, bound with green withes. His legs and his arms were firmly tied together, and, after the Basoko had made Maranda repeat her story from the beginning, and Sukila had told the manner of the marriage, they searched for great stones, which they fastened to his neck; and, lifting him into the war-canoe, they paddled into the middle of the stream, where they sang a death-chant; after which they dropped Mafala overboard and he was never heard of more. That is all there is of the story of Maranda. CHAPTER SEVEN. THE STORY OF KITINDA AND HER WISE DOG. On another night Baruti, whose memory was freshened by the reward which followed a story worthy of being written in the Master's book, told us about Kitinda and her wise dog, so well indeed that by common consent he was acclaimed one of the best among the story-tellers. But it was not so well rehearsed to me while I had my pencil in hand as he had delivered it at the camp fire. It bothered him to be asked to dictate it a little slower to me, and he showed marked signs of inattention when told to repeat a sentence twice over. All I can flatter myself is that it contains the sense of what was said. Kitinda, a woman of the Basoko, near the Aruwimi river, possessed a dog who was remarkable for his intelligence. It was said that he was so clever that strangers understood his motions as well as though he talked to them; and that Kitinda, familiar with his ways and the tones of his whines, his yelps, and his barks, could converse with him as easily as she could with her husband. One market-day the mistress and her dog agreed to go together, and on the road she told him all she intended to do and say in disposing of her produce in exchange for other articles which she needed in her home. Her dog listened with sympathy, and then, in his own manner, he conveyed to her how great was his attachment to her, and how there never was such a friend as he could be; and he begged her that, if at any time she was in distress, she would tell him, and that he would serve her with all his might. "Only," he said, "were it not that I am afraid of the effects of being too clever, I could have served you oftener and much more than I have done." "What do you mean?" said Kitinda. "Well, you know, among the Basoko, it is supposed, if one is too clever, or too lucky, or too rich, that it has come about through dealings in witchcraft, and people are burned in consequence. I do not like the idea of being burned--and therefore I have refrained often from assisting you because I feared you could not contain your surprise, and would chat about it to the villagers. Then some day, after some really remarkable act of cleverness of mine, people would say, `Ha! this is not a dog. No dog could have done that! He must be a demon--or a witch in a dog's hide!' and of course they would take me and burn me." "Why, how very unkind of you to think such things of me! When have I chatted about you? Indeed I have too many things to do, my housework, my planting and marketing so occupy me, that I could not find time to gossip about my dog." "Well, it is already notorious that I am clever, and I often tremble when strangers look at and admire me for fear some muddle-headed fellow will fancy that he sees something else in me more than unusual intelligence. What would they say, however, if they really knew how very sagacious I am? The reputation that I possess has only come through your affection for me, but I assure you that I dread this excess of affection lest it should end fatally for you and for me." "But are you so much cleverer than you have already shown yourself? If I promise that I will never speak of you to any person again, will you help me more than you have done, if I am in distress?" "You are a woman, and you could not prevent yourself talking if you tried ever so hard." "Now, look you here, my dog. I vow to you that no matter what you do that is strange, I wish I may die, and that the first animal I meet may kill me if I speak a word. You shall see now that Kitinda will be as good as her word." "Very well, I will take you at your word. I am to serve you every time you need help, and if you speak of my services to a soul, you are willing to lose your life by the first animal you may meet." Thus they made a solemn agreement as they travelled to market. Kitinda sold her palm-oil and fowls to great advantage that day, and in exchange received sleeping-mats, a couple of carved stools, a bag of cassava flour, two large well-baked and polished crocks, a bunch of ripe bananas, a couple of good plantation hoes, and a big strong basket. After the marketing was over she collected her purchases together and tried to put them into the basket, but the big crocks and carved stools were a sore trouble to her. She could put the flour and hoes and the bananas on top with the mats for a cover very well, but the stools and the crocks were a great difficulty. Her dog in the meantime had been absent, and had succeeded in killing a young antelope, and had dragged it near her. He looked around and saw that the market was over, and that the people had returned to their own homes, while his mistress had been anxiously planning how to pack her property. He heard her complain of her folly in buying such cumbersome and weighty things, and ask herself how she was to reach home with them. Pitying her in her trouble, the dog galloped away and found a man empty-handed, before whom he fawned and whose hands he licked, and being patted he clung to his cloth with his teeth and pulled him gently along--wagging his tail and looking very amiable. He continued to do this until the man, seeing Kitinda fretting over her difficulty, understood what was wanted, and offered to carry the stools and crocks at each end of his long staff over his shoulders for a few of the ripe bananas and a lodging. His assistance was accepted with pleasure, and Kitinda was thus enabled to reach her home, and on the way was told by the man how it was that he had happened to return to the marketplace. Kitinda was very much tempted there and then to dilate upon her dog's well-known cleverness, but remembered in time her promise not to boast of him. When, however, she reached the village, and the housewives came out of their houses, burning to hear the news at the market, in her eagerness to tell this one and then the other all that had happened to her, and all that she had seen and heard, she forgot her vow of the morning, and forthwith commenced to relate the last wonderful trick of her dog in dragging a man back to the marketplace to help her when she thought that all her profit in trade would be lost, and when she was just about to smash her nice crocks in her rage. The dog listened to her narrative, viewed the signs of wonder stealing over the women's faces, heard them call out to their husbands, saw the men advancing eagerly towards them, saw them all look at him narrowly, heard one man exclaim, "That cannot be a dog! it is a demon within a dog's hide. He--" But the dog had heard enough. He turned, and ran into the woods, and was never more seen in that village. The next market-day came round, and Kitinda took some more palm-oil and a few fowls, and left her home to dispose of them for some other domestic needs. When about half-way, her dog came out of the wood, and after accusing her of betraying him to her stupid countrymen, thus returning evil for good, he sprang upon her and tore her to pieces. CHAPTER EIGHT. THE STORY OF THE PRINCE WHO INSISTED ON POSSESSING THE MOON. "Sir," said Baruti, one evening, "another story came to my mind to-day which was told to me a long time ago by an old man among the Basoko. I doubt whether you will like it, but since you wish to hear another legend of my country you shall have the story as it was told to me." The country now inhabited by the Basoko tribe was formerly known as Bandimba. A king called Bahanga was its sole rider. He possessed a houseful of wives, but all his children were unfortunately of the female sex, which he considered to be a great grievance, and of which he frequently complained. His subjects, on the other hand, were blessed with more sons than daughters, and this fact increased the king's grief, and made him envy the meanest of his subjects. One day, however, he married Bamana, the youngest daughter of his principal chief, and finally he became the father of a male child, and was very happy, and his people rejoiced in his happiness. The prince grew up to be a marvel of strength and beauty, and his father doted on him so much, that he shared his power with the boy in a curious manner. The king reserved authority over all the married people, while the prince's subjects consisted of those not yet mated. It thus happened that the prince ruled over more people than his father, for the children were, of course, more numerous than the parents. But with all the honour conferred upon him the prince was not happy. The more he obtained, the more he wished to possess. His eyes had but to see a thing to make him desire its exclusive possession. Each day he preferred one or more requests to his father, and because of his great love for him, the king had not the heart to refuse anything to him. Indeed, he was persuaded to bestow so many gifts upon his son that he reserved scarcely anything for himself. One day the prince was playing with the youth of his court, and after the sport retired to the shade of a tree to rest, and his companions sat down in a circle at a respectful distance from him. He then felt a gush of pride stealing over him as he thought of his great power, at the number and variety of his treasures, and he cried out boastfully that there never was a boy so great, so rich and so favoured by his father, as he had become. "My father," said he, "can deny me nothing. I have only to ask, and it is given unto me." Then one little slender boy with a thin voice said, "It is true, prince. Your father has been very good to you. He is a mighty king, and he is as generous as he is great. Still, I know of one thing that he cannot give you--and it is certain that you will never possess it." "What thing is that which I may not call my own, when I see it--and what is it that is not in the king's power to give me?" asked the prince, in a tone of annoyance. "It is the moon," answered the little boy; "and you must confess yourself that it is beyond the king's power to give that to you." "Do you doubt it?" asked the prince. "I say to you that I shall possess it, and I will go now and claim it from my father. I will not give him any peace until he gives it to me." Now it so happens that such treasures as are already ours, we do not value so much as those which we have not yet got. So it was with this spoiled prince. The memory of the many gifts of his father faded from his mind, and their value was not to be compared with this new toy--the moon--which he had never thought of before and which he now so ardently coveted. He found the king discussing important matters with the old men. "Father," said he, "just now, while I was with my companions I was taunted because I did not have the moon among my toys, and it was said that it was beyond your power to give it to me. Now, prove this boy a liar, and procure the moon for me, that I may be able to show it to them, and glory in your gift." "What is it you say, my son, you want the moon?" asked the astonished king. "Yes. Do get it for me at once, won't you?" "But, my child, the moon is a long way up. How shall we be ever able to reach it?" "I don't know; but you have always been good to me, and you surely would not refuse me this favour, father?" "I fear, my own, that we will not be able to give you the moon." "But, father, I must have it; my life will not be worth living without it. How may I dare to again face my companions after my proud boast before them of your might and goodness? There was but one thing that yonder pert boy said I might not have, and that was the moon. Now my soul is bent upon possessing this moon, and you must obtain it for me or I shall die." "Nay, my son, speak not of death. It is an ugly word, especially when connected with my prince and heir. Do you not know yet that I live only for your sake? Let your mind be at rest. I will collect all the wise men of the land together, and ask them to advise me. If they say that the moon can be reached and brought down to us, you shall have it." Accordingly the great state drum was sounded for the general palaver, and a score of criers went through the towns beating their little drums as they went, and the messengers hastened all the wise men and elders to the presence of the king. When all were assembled, the king announced his desire to know how the moon could be reached, and whether it could be shifted from its place in the sky and brought down to the earth, in order that he might give it to his only son the prince. If there was any wise man present who could inform him how this could be done, and would undertake to bring it to him, he would give the choicest of his daughters in marriage to him and endow him with great riches. When the wise men heard this strange proposal, they were speechless with astonishment, as no one in the Basoko Land had ever heard of anybody mounting into the air higher than a tree, and to suppose that a person could ascend as high as the moon was, they thought, simple madness. Respect for the king, however, held them mute, though what their glances meant was very clear. But while each man was yet looking at his neighbour in wonder, one of the wise men, who appeared to be about the youngest present, rose to his feet and said: "Long life to the prince and to his father, the king! We have heard the words of our king, Bahanga, and they are good. I--even I--his slave, am able to reach the moon, and to do the king's pleasure, if the king's authority will assist me." The confident air of the man, and the ring of assurance in his voice made the other wise men, who had been so ready to believe the king and prince mad, feel shame, and they turned their faces to him curiously, more than half willing to believe that after all the thing was possible. The king also lost his puzzled look, and appeared relieved. "Say on. How may you be able to perform what you promise?" "If it please the king," answered _the_ man, boldly, "I will ascend from the top of the high mountain near the Cataract of Panga. But I shall first build a high scaffold on it, the base of which shall be as broad as the mountain top, and on that scaffold I will build another, and on the second I shall build a third, and so on and so on until my shoulder touches the moon." "But is it possible to reach the moon in this manner?" asked the king doubtingly. "Most certainly, if I were to erect a sufficient number of scaffolds, one above another, but it will require a vast quantity of timber, and a great army of workmen. If the king commands it, the work will be done." "Be it so, then," said the king. "I place at your service every able-bodied man in the kingdom." "Ah, but all the men in your kingdom are not sufficient, O king. All the grown-up men will be wanted to fell the trees, square the timber and bear it to the works; and every grown-up woman will be required to prepare the food for the workmen; and every boy must carry water to satisfy their thirst, and bark rope for the binding of the timbers; and every girl, big and little, must be sent to till the fields to raise cassava for food. Only in this manner can the prince obtain the moon as his toy." "I say, then, let it be done as you think it ought to be done. All the men, women, and children in the kingdom I devote to this service, that my only son may enjoy what he desires." Then it was proclaimed throughout the wide lands of the Bandimba that all the people should be gathered together to proceed at once with the work of obtaining the moon for the king's son. And the forest was cut down, and while some of the workmen squared the trees, others cut deep holes in the ground, to make a broad and sure base for the lower scaffold; and the boys made thousands of rope coils to lash the timbers together, out of bark, fibre of palm, and tough grass; and the girls, big and little, hoed up the ground and planted the cassava shrubs and cuttings from the banana and the plantain, and sowed the corn; and the women kneaded the bread and cooked the greens, and roasted green bananas for food for the workmen. And all the Bandimba people were made to slave hard every day in order that a spoiled boy might have the moon for his toy. In a few days the first scaffolding stood up as high as the tallest trees, in a few weeks the structure had grown until it was many arrow-flights in height, in two months it was so lofty that the top could not be seen with the naked eye. The fame of the wonderful wooden tower that the Bandimba were building was carried far and wide; and the friendly nations round about sent messengers to see and report to them what mad thing the Bandimba were about, for rumour had spread so many contrary stories among people that strangers did not know what to believe. Some said it was true that all the Bandimba had become mad; but some of those who came to see with their own eyes, laughed, while others began to feel anxious. All, however, admired the bigness, and wondered at the height of the tower. In the sixth month the top of the highest scaffold was so high that on the clearest day people could not see half-way up; and it was said to be so tall that the chief engineer could tell the day he would be able to touch the moon. The work went on, and at last the engineer passed the word down that in a few days more it would be finished. Everybody believed him, and the nations round about sent more people to be present to witness the completion of the great tower, and to observe what would happen. In all the land, and the countries adjoining it, there was found only one wise man who foresaw, if the moon was shifted out of its place what damage would happen, and that probably all those foolish people in the vicinity of the tower would be destroyed. Fearing some terrible calamity, he proposed to depart from among the Bandimba before it should be too late. He then placed his family in a canoe, and, after storing it with sufficient provisions, he embarked, and in the night he floated down the river Aruwimi and into the big river, and continued his journey night and day as fast as the current would take him--far, far below any lands known to the Bandimba. A week later, after the flight of the wise man and his family, the chief engineer sent down word to the king that he was ready to take the moon down. "It is well," replied the king from below. "I will ascend, that I may see how you set about it." Within twenty days the king reached the summit of the tower, and, standing at last by the side of the engineer, he laid his hand upon the moon, and it felt exceedingly hot. Then he commanded the engineer to proceed to take it down. The man put a number of cool bark coils over his shoulder and tried to dislodge it; but, as it was firmly fixed, he used such a deal of force that he cracked it, and there was an explosion, the fire and sparks from which scorched him. The timber on which the king and his chiefs were standing began to burn, and many more bursting sounds were heard, and fire and melted rock ran down through the scaffolding in a steady stream, until all the woodwork was ablaze, and the flames soared upward among the uprights and trestles of the wood in one vast pile of fire; and every man, woman, and child was utterly consumed in a moment. And the heat was so great that it affected the moon, and a large portion of it tumbled to the earth, and its glowing hot materials ran over the ground like a great river of fire, so that most of the country of the Bandimba was burnt to ashes. On those who were not smothered by the smoke, nor burnt by the fire, and who fled from before the burning river, the effect was very wonderful. Such of them as were grown up, male and female, were converted into gorillas, and all the children into different kinds of long-tailed monkeys. The old man who told me this story ended by saying to us, who listened with open mouth to his words: "Friends, if you doubt the truth of what I have said, all you have to do is to look at the moon when it is full, and you may then see on a clear night a curious dark portion on its face, which often appears as though there were peaky mountains in it, and often the dark spots are like some kind of homed animals; and then again, you will often fancy that on the moon you see the outlines of a man's face, but those dark spots are only the holes made in the moon by the man who forced his shoulders through it. By this you will know that I have not lied unto you. Now ever since that dreadful day when the moon burst and the Bandimba country was consumed, parents are not in the habit of granting children all they ask for, but only such things as their age and experience warn them are good for their little ones. And when little children will not be satisfied by such things, but fret and pester their parents to give them what they know will be harmful to them, then it is a custom with all wise people to take the rod to them, to drive out of their heads the wicked thoughts." "But, Baruti," said a Zanzibari who believed the story, for had he not often viewed the dark spots on the moon, "what became of Bahanga and the little prince?" "Why, after the engineer of the works, the first who died were the king and the prince whose folly had brought ruin on the land." CHAPTER NINE. HOW KIMYERA BECAME KING OF UGANDA. Kadu was a native lad of Uganda, who having made blood brotherhood with a young Zanzibari of his own age, asked permission to join our expedition of 1874-77. He survived the perils of the descent of the Congo, and in 1879 enlisted again, and served faithfully another term of three years in Africa. He afterwards joined Mr H.H. Johnston on his visit to Kilimanjaro, and proved himself as devoted to him as he had been for seven years to me. It was while road-making along the banks of the Congo, after becoming thoroughly conversant with the Zanzibari vernacular, that he entertained us with his remarkable legends. Next to his countryman Sabadu he was the most entertaining. One of the first tales he related to us was about Kimyera, a king of Uganda, who by his exploits in hunting deserves to be called the Nimrod of that country. It ran as follows:-- Many ages ago Uni reigned as king over Unyoro, a great country which lies to the north and west of Uganda. One day he took to wife Wanyana, a woman of the neighbouring kingdom, who on the first night she had been taken into the inner harem manifested a violent aversion for his person. At that time a man named Kalimera, who was a dealer in cattle, was visiting the court, and had already resided some months there as an honoured guest of the king, on account of his agreeable manners, and his accomplishments on the flute. During his stay he had not failed to note the beauty of the young women who were permitted to crowd around him while he played; but it had long been observed that he had been specially attracted by the charms of Wanyana. It was whispered by a few of the more maliciously disposed among the women that a meeting had taken place, and that an opportunity had been found by them to inform each other of their mutual passion. However that may be, King Uni, surprised at the dislike which she manifested towards him, forbore pressing her for the time, trustfully believing that her sentiments would change for the better after a more intimate acquaintance with him. Meantime he built for her a separate apartment, and palisaded its court closely around with thick cane. His visits were paid to her on alternate days, and each time he brought some gift of bead or bark-cloth, or soft, furry hide, in the hope of winning her favour. In time she discovered that she was pregnant, and, fearing King Uni's wrath, she made a compact with him that if he would abstain from visiting her for one month she would repay his kindness with all affection. Uni gladly consented to this proposal, and confined his attentions to sending his pages with daily greetings and gifts. Meantime she endeavoured through her own servants to communicate with Kalimera, her lover, but, though no effort on her part was wanting, she could gain no news of him, except a report that soon after she had entered the harem of Uni, Kalimera had disappeared. In a few days she was delivered of a fine male child, but as she would undoubtedly be slain by the king if the child was discovered, she departed by night with it, and laid it, clad in fur adorned with fine bead-work, at the bottom of a potter's pit. She then hastened to a soothsayer in the neighbourhood, and bribed him to contrive in some way to receive and rear her child until he could be claimed. Satisfied with his assurance that the child would be safe, Wanyana returned to her residence at the court in the same secret manner that she had left it. Next morning Mugema, the potter, was seen passing the soothsayer's door, and was hailed by the great witch-finder. "Mugema," said he, "thy pots are now made of rotten clay. They are not at all what they used to be. They now crumble in the hand. Tell me why is this?" "Ah, doctor, it is just that. I thought to bribe thee to tell me, only I did not wish to disturb thee." "It is well, Mugema; I will tell thee why. Thou hast an enemy who wishes evil to thee, but I will defeat his projects. Haste thou to thy pit, and whatever living thing thou findest there, keep it, and rear it kindly. While it lives thou art safe from all harm." Wondering at this news, Mugema departed from the soothsayer's house, and proceeded to the pit where he obtained his clay. Peering softly over the edge of the pit, he saw a bundle of bark-cloth and fur. From its external appearance he could not guess what this bundle might contain, but, fearing to disturb it by any precipitate movement, he silently retreated from the pit, and sped away to tell his wife, as he was in duty bound, and obtain her advice and assistance, for the wife in all such matters is safer than the man. His wife on hearing this news cried out at him, saying: "Why, what a fool thou art! Why didst thou not do as the soothsayer commanded thee? Come, I will go with thee at once, for my mind is troubled with a dream which I had last night, and this thing thou tellest me may have a weighty meaning for us both." Mugema and his wife hurried together towards the clay-pit, and as her husband insisted on it, she crept silently to its edge to look down. At that moment the child uttered a cry and moved the clothes which covered it. "Why, it is a babe," cried the woman; "just as I found it in my dream. Hurry, Mugema. Descend quickly, and bring it up to me; and take care not to hurt it." Mugema wondered so much at his wife's words that he almost lost his wits, but being pushed into the pit he mechanically obeyed, and brought up the bundle and its living occupant, which he handed to his wife without uttering a word. On opening the bundle there was discovered the form of a beautiful and remarkably lusty child, of such weight, size, and form, that the woman exclaimed: "Oh! Mugema, was ever anybody's luck like this of ours? My very heart sighed for a child that I could bring up to be our joy, and here the good spirits have given us the pick of all the world. Mugema, thy fortune is made." "But whose child is it?" asked Mugema, suspiciously. "How can I tell thee that? Hadst thou not brought the news to me of it being in the pit, I should have been childless all my life. The soothsayer who directed thee hither is a wise man. He knows the secret, I warrant him. But come, Mugema, drop these silly thoughts. What sayest thou? shall we rear the child, or leave it here to perish?" "All right, wife. If it prove of joy to thee, I shall live content." Thus it was that the child of Wanyana found foster-parents, and no woman in Unyoro could be prouder of her child than Mugema's wife came to be of the foundling. The milk of woman, goat, and cow was given to him, and he throve prodigiously; and when Mugema asked the soothsayer what name would be fittest for him, the wise man said: "Call him Kimyera--the mighty one." Some months after this, when Kimyera was about a year old, Wanyana came to the potter's house to purchase pots for her household, and while she was seated in the porch selecting the soundest among them, she heard a child crying within. "Ah, has thy wife had a child lately? I did not observe or hear when I last visited thee that she was likely to become a mother." "No, princess," replied Mugema; "that is the cry of a child I discovered in the clay-pit about a year ago." Wanyana's heart gave a great jump, and for a moment she lost all recollection of where she was. Recovering herself with a great effort, she bade Mugema tell her all about the incident: but while he related the story, she was busy thinking how she might assure herself of his secrecy if she declared herself to be the mother of the child. Mugema, before concluding his story, did not fail to tell Wanyana how for a time he had suspected his wife of having played him falsely, and that though he had no grounds for the suspicion further than that the clay-pit was his own and the child had been found in it, he was not quite clear in his mind yet, and he would be willing to slave a long time for any person who could thoroughly disabuse his mind of the doubt, as, with that exception, his wife was the cleverest and best woman in Unyoro. Wanyana, perceiving her opportunity, said: "Well, much as I affected not to know about the child, I know whose child it is, and who placed it in the pit." "Thou, princess!" he cried. "Yes, and, if thou wilt take an oath upon the great Muzimu to keep it secret, I will disclose the name of the mother." "Thou hast my assurance of secrecy upon the condition that the child is not proved to be my wife's. Whosoever else's it may be, matters not to me; the child was found, and is mine by right of the finder. Now name the mother, princess." "Wanyana!" "Thine?" "Even so. It is the offspring of fond love, and Kalimera of Uganda is his father. The young man belongs to one of the four royal clans of Uganda, called the Elephant clan. He is the youngest son of the late king of Uganda. To him, on his father's death, fell his mother's portion, a pastoral district rich in cattle not far from the frontier of Unyoro. It was while he drove fat herds here for sale to Uni that he saw and loved me, and I knew him as my lord. Dreading the king's anger, he fled, and I was left loveless in the power of Uni. One night the child was born, and in the darkness I crept out of the king's court, and bore the babe to thy pit. To the wise man I confided the secret of that birth. Thou knowest the rest." "Princess, my wife never appeared fairer to me than she does now, and I owe the clear eye to thee. Rest in peace. My wife loves the babe, let her nurse it until happier times, and I will guard it safe as though it were mine own. Ay, the babe, I feel assured, will pay me well when he is grown. The words of the wise man come home to me now, and I see whereby good luck shall come to all. If bone and muscle can make a king, Kimyera's future is sure. But come in to see my wife, and to her discretion and wisdom confide thy tale frankly." Wanyana soon was hanging over her child, and, amid tears of joy, she made Mugema's wife acquainted with his birth, and obtained from her earnest assurance that he would be tenderly cared for, and her best help in any service she could perform for Kimyera and his mother. Great friendship sprang up between Princess Wanyana and the potter Mugema and his wife, and she found frequent excuses for visiting the fast-growing child. Through the influence of the princess, the potter increased in riches, and his herds multiplied; and when Kimyera was grown tall and strong, he was entrusted by his foster-father with the care of the cattle, and he gave him a number of strong youths as assistants. With these Kimyera indulged in manly games, until he became wonderfully dexterous in casting the spear, and drawing the bow, and in wrestling. His swiftness exceeded that of the fleetest antelope; no animal of the plain could escape him when he gave chase. His courage, proved in the defence of his charge, became a proverb among all who knew him. If the cry of the herdsman warned him that a beast sought to prey upon the cattle, Kimyera never lost time to put himself in front, and, with spear and arrow, he often became victor. With the pride becoming the possessor of so many admirable qualities, he would drive his herds right through the corn-fields of the villagers, and to all remonstrances he simply replied that the herds belonged to Wanyana, favourite wife of Uni. The people belonged to her also, as well as their corn, and who could object to Wanyana's cattle eating Wanyana's corn? As his reputation for strength and courage was well known, the villagers then submissively permitted him to do as he listed. As he grew up in might and valour, Uni's regards cooled towards Wanyana, and, as she was not permitted that freedom formerly enjoyed by her, her visits to Kimyera ceased. Mugema sympathised with the mother, and contrived to send Kimyera with pots to sell to the people of the court, with strict charge to discover every piece of news relating to the Princess Wanyana. The mother's heart dilated with pride every time she saw her son, and she contrived in various ways to lengthen the interview. And each time he returned to his home he carried away some gift from Wanyana, such as leopard-skins, strings of beast claws, beads, and crocodile-teeth, girdles of white monkey-skin, parcels of ground ochre, or camwood, or rare shells, to show Mugema and his wife. And often he used to say, "Wanyana bade me ask you to accept this gift from her as a token of her esteem," showing them similar articles. His mother's presents to him in a short time enabled him to purchase two fine large dogs--one was black as charcoal, which was named by him _Msigissa_, or "Darkness," the other was white as a cotton tuft, and called _Sema-gimbi_, or "Wood-burr." You must know that it is because of the dog Darkness, that the Baboon clan of Uganda became so attached to black dogs, by which they perpetuate the memory of Kimyera. When he had become the owner of Darkness and Wood-burr, he began to absent himself from home for longer periods, leaving the herds in charge of the herdsmen. With these he explored the plains, and hills, and woods to a great distance from his home. Sometimes he would be absent for weeks, causing great anxiety to his kind foster-parents. The further he went the more grew his passion to know what lay beyond the furthest ridge he saw, which, when discovered, he would be again tempted to explore another that loomed in the far distance before him. With every man he met he entered into conversation, and obtained a various knowledge of things of interest relating to the country, the people, and the chiefs. In this manner before many months he had a wide knowledge of every road and river, village and tribe, in the neighbouring lands. On his return from these daring excursions, he would be strictly questioned by Mugema and his wife as to what he had been doing, but he evaded giving the entire truth by rehearsing the hunting incidents that attended his wanderings, so that they knew not the lands he had seen, nor the distances that he travelled. However, being uneasy in their minds they communicated to Wanyana all that was related to them and all they suspected. Wanyana then sought permission to pay a visit to the potter and his wife, and during the visit she asked Kimyera, "Pray tell me, my son, whither dost thou travel on these long journeys of thine to seek for game?" "Oh! I travel far through woods, and over grassy hills and plains." "But is it in the direction of sunrise, or sunset, is it north or is it south of here?" To which he replied: "I seek game generally in the direction whence the sun rises." "Ah!" said Wanyana. "In that way lies Ganda, where thy father lives, and whence he came in former days to exchange cattle for salt and hoes." "My father! What may be my father's name, mother?" "Kalimera." "And where did he live?" "His village is called Willimera, and is near the town of Bakka." "Bakka! I know the town, for in some of my journeys I entered a long way into Uganda, and have chased the leopard in the woods that border the stream called Myanja, and over the plains beyond the river many an antelope has fallen a victim to my spear." "It is scarcely credible, my son." "Nay, but it is true, mother." "Then thou must have been near Willimera in that case, and it is a pity that thou shouldst not have seen thy father, and been received by him." A few days later Kimyera slung his knitted haversack over his shoulder, and with shield, two spears, and his faithful dogs Darkness and Wood-burr, he strode out of the potter's house, and set his face once more towards the Myanja river. At the first village across the stream he questioned the natives if they knew Willimera, and was told that it was but eight hours east. The next day he arrived, and travelled round the village, and rested that night at the house of one of the herdsmen of Kalimera. He made himself very agreeable to his host, and from him he received the fullest information of all matters relating to his father. The next day he began his return to Unyoro, which he reached in two weeks. He told Mugema and his foster-mother of his success, and they sent a messenger to apprise Wanyana that Kimyera had returned home. Wanyana, impatient to learn the news, arrived that night at Mugema's house, and implored Kimyera to tell her all that he had heard and seen. "In brief, it is this," replied Kimyera. "I now know to a certainty where Kalimera lives. I have gone round the village, I know how many natives are in it, how many herds of cattle, and how many herdsmen and slaves he has. Kalimera is well. All these I learned from one of his chief herdsmen with whom I rested a night. I came here straight to let thee and my foster-parents know it." "It is very well, my son. Now, Mugema, it is time to move," she said to the potter. "Uni daily becomes more intolerable to me. I never have yet mated with him as his wife, and I have been true to the one man who seemed to me to be the comeliest of his kind. Now that I know Kalimera lives, my heart has gone to him, though my body is here. Mugema, speak, my friend." "Wanyana, my wit is slow and my tongue is heavy. Thou knowest my circumstances. I have one wife, but many cattle. The two cows, Namala and Nakaombeh, thou gavest me first, I possess still. Their milk has always been abundant and sweet. Namala has sufficed to nourish Kimyera into perfect lustiness and strength; Nakaombeh gives more than will feed my wife and I. Let Kimyera take his flute, his dogs, Darkness and Wood-burr, his spears and shield; Sebarija, my cowherd, who taught Kimyera the flute, will also take his flute and staff, and drive Namala and Nakaombeh. My wife will carry a few furs, some of the spoils won by Kimyera's prowess; and, lo! I and my family will follow Wanyana." "A true friend thou hast been to me and mine, Mugema! We will hence before dawn. In Willimera thou shalt receive tenfold what thou leavest here. The foundling of the clay-pit has grown tall and strong, and at last he has found the way to his father and his father's kindred." And as Wanyana advised, the journey was undertaken that night, and before the sun arose Wanyana, Mugema and his wife, the slave Sebarija driving the two cows, Namala and Nakaombeh, were far on their way eastward, Kimyera and his two dogs, Darkness and Wood-burr, preceding the emigrants and guiding the way. The food they took with them sustained them for two days; but on the third day they saw a lonely buffalo, and Kimyera, followed by Mugema and Sebarija, chased him. The buffalo was uncommonly wild, and led them a long chase, far out of sight of the two women. Then Mugema reflected that they had done wrong in thus leaving the two women alone, and called out to Sebarija to hurry back, and to look after the women and two cows. Not long after, Darkness fastened his fangs in the buffalo, until Wood-burr came up and assisted him to bring it to the ground, and there they held him until Kimyera gave him his death-stroke. The two men loaded themselves with the meat, and returned to the place where they had left, but alas! they found no traces of the two women, nor of Sebarija and the two cows. Day after day Kimyera and Mugema hunted all around the country for news of the missing party, until, finally, to their great sorrow, they were obliged to abandon the search, and came to the conclusion that it was best for them to continue their journey and trust to chance for the knowledge they desired. Near Ganda another buffalo was sighted by Kimyera, and, bidding Mugema remain at the first house he came to, he went after it with his dogs. The buffalo galloped far, and near noon he stood still under the shelter of a rock. Kimyera bounded to the top, and, exerting all his strength, he shot his spear clean through the back of the animal. That rock is still shown to strangers as the place where Kimyera killed the first game in Uganda, and even the place where he stood may be seen by the marks of his feet which were, impressed on it. While resting on the rock he saw a woman pass near by with a gourd of water. He called out to her, and begged for a drop to allay his thirst. She smilingly complied, as the stranger was comely and his manner pleasant. They entered into conversation, during which he learned that she belonged to Ganda, and served as maid to Queen Naku, wife of Sebwana, and that Naku was kind to strangers, and was famed for her hospitality to them. "Dost thou think she will be kind to me?" asked Kimyera. "I am a native of Unyoro, and I am seeking a house where I may rest." To which the maid replied: "It is the custom of Naku, and, indeed, of all the princes of Ganda, to entertain the stranger since, in the far olden times, the first prince settled in this land in which he was a stranger. But what may that be which is secured in thy girdle?" "That is a reed flute on which I imitate when alone the songs of such birds as sound sweetest to me." "And art thou clever at it?" asked the maid. "Be thou judge," he said; and forthwith blew on his flute until the maid marvelled greatly. When he had ended, she clapped her hands gaily and said: "Thou wilt be more than welcome to Naku and her people. Haste and follow me that I may show thee to her, for thy fortune is made." "Nay. I have a companion not far from here, and I must not lose him. But thou mayest say thou hast met a stranger who, when he has found his friend, will present himself before Queen Naku and Sebwana before sunset." The maid withdrew and Kimyera rose, and cutting a large portion of the meat he retraced his steps, and sought and found Mugema, to whom he told all his adventures. After washing the stains of travel and refreshing themselves, they proceeded into the village to the residence of the queen and her consort Sebwana. Naku was prepared by the favourable reports of the maid to receive Kimyera kindly, but when she saw his noble proportions and handsome figure she became violently in love with him, and turning to Sebwana she said: "See now, we have guests of worth and breeding. They must have travelled from a far land, for I have heard of no tribe which could boast of such a youth as this. Let us receive him and his old friend nobly. Let a house close by our own be made ready for his lodging, and let it be furnished with abundance of food, with wine [banana wine] and milk, bananas and yams, water and fuel, and let nothing be lacking to show our esteem for them." Sebwana gave orders accordingly and proceeded to select a fit house as a lodging for the guests. Then Naku said: "I hear that thou art skilled in music. If that is the instrument in thy girdle with which thou hast delighted my maid, I should be pleased to hear thee." "Yes, Queen Naku, it is my flute; and if my music will delight thee, my best efforts are at thy service." Then Kimyera, kneeling on the leopard-skins placed for the convenience of himself and Mugema, took out his flute, and after one or two flourishes, poured forth such melodious sounds that Naku, unable to keep her eyes open, closed them and lay down with panting breasts, while her senses were filled as it were with dreams of happier lands, and faces of brighter people than ever she knew in real life. As he varied the notes, so varied the gladsome visions of her mind. When the music gently vibrated on her ears, her body palpitated under the influence of the emotions which swayed her; when they became more enlivened she tossed her arms about, and laughed convulsively; and when the notes took a solemn tone, she sighed and wept as though all her friends had left her only their tender memory. Grieved that Naku should suffer, Kimyera woke the queen from her sorrowful condition with tones that soon started her to her feet, and lo, all at once, those who were present joined in the lively dance, and nothing but gay laughter was heard from them. Oh, it was wonderful what quick changes came over people as they heard the flute of Kimyera. When he ceased people began to look at one another in a foolish and confused way, as though something very strange had happened to them. But Naku quickly recovered, and went to Kimyera, smiling and saying: "It is for thee to command, O Kimyera. To resist thy flute would be impossible. Again welcome to Ganda, and we shall see if we cannot keep thee and thy flute amongst us." She conducted Kimyera and his foster-father Mugema to their house. She examined carefully the arrangements made by the slaves, and when she found anything amiss she corrected it with her own hands. Before she parted from them she called Mugema aside, and questioned him further respecting the youth, by which means she obtained many interesting particulars concerning him. On arriving at her own house she called all the pages of the court to her, and gave orders that if Sebwana told them to convey such and such things to the strangers next day, that none of them should do so, but carry them to the rear court where only women were admitted. In consequence of this command Mugema and Kimyera found themselves deserted next day, and not one person went near them. Mugema therefore sought an interview the day after with Queen Naku and said: "The custom of this country seems strange to us, O Queen. On the first day we came thy favours showered abundance on us, but on the next not a single person showed his face to us. Had we been in a wilderness we could not have been more alone. It is possible that we may have offended thee unknown to ourselves. Pray acquaint us with our offence, or permit us to depart at once from Ganda." "Nay, Mugema, I must ask thee to be patient. Food ye shall have in abundance, through my women, and much more is in store for ye. But come, I will visit the young stranger, and thou shalt lead me to him." Kimyera had been deep in thought ever since he had parted from Naku, and he had not observed what Mugema had complained of; but on seeing Naku enter his house, he hasted and laid matting on the floor, and, covering it with leopard-skins, begged Naku to be seated on them. He brought fresh banana-leaves in his arms, and spread them near her, on which he arranged meat and salt, and bananas and clotted milk, and kneeled before her like a ready servitor. Naku observed all his movements, her admiration for his person and graces of body becoming stronger every minute. She peeled a mellow banana and handed it to him, saying, "Let Kimyera taste and eat with me, and I will then know that I am in the house of a friend." Kimyera accepted the gift with thanks, and ate the banana as though he had never eaten anything so delicious in his life. Then he also peeled a beautiful and ripe banana, and, presenting it to her on a fragment of green leaf with both hands, said to her: "Queen Naku, it is the custom of my country for the master of the house to wait upon his guests. Wherefore accept, O Queen, this banana as a token of friendship from the hands of Kimyera." The queen smiled, bent forward with her eyes fixed on his own, and took the yellow fruit, and ate it as though such sweetness was not known in the banana land of Ganda. When she had eaten she said: "List, Kimyera, and thou, Mugema, hearken well, for I am about to utter weighty words. In Ganda, since the death of my father, there has been no king. Sebwana is my consort by choice of the elders of the land, but in name only. He is really only my _kate-kiro_ (Premier). But I am now old enough to choose a king for myself, and according to custom, I may do so. Wherefore I make known to thee, Mugema, that I have already chosen my lord and husband, and he by due right must occupy the chair of my father, the old king who is dead. I have said to myself since the day before yesterday that my lord and husband shall be Kimyera." Both Kimyera and Mugema prostrated themselves three times before Naku, and, after the youth had recovered from his confusion and surprise, he replied: "But, Queen Naku, hast thou thought what the people will say to this? May it not be that they will ask, `who is this stranger that he should reign over us?' and they will be wroth with me and try to slay me?" "Nay. For thou art my father's brother's son, as Mugema told me, and my father having left no male heirs of his body, his daughter may, if she choose, ally herself with a son of his brother. Kalimera is a younger brother of my father. Thou seest, therefore, that thou, Kimyera, hast a right to the king's chair, if I, Naku, will it to be so." "And how, Naku, dost thou propose to act? In thy cause my arm is ready to strike. Thou hast but to speak." "In this way. I will now leave thee, for I have some business for Sebwana. When he has gone I will then send for thee, and thou, when thou comest to me, must say, `Naku, I have come. What can Kimyera do for Queen Naku?' And I will rise and say, `Kimyera, come and seat thyself in thy father's brother's chair.' And thou wilt step forward, bow three times before me, then six times before the king's chair, and, with thy best spear in hand and shield on arm, thou wilt, proceed to the king's chair, and turning to the people who will be present, say in a loud voice thus: `Lo, people of Ganda, I am Kimyera, son of Kalimera, by Wanyana of Unyoro. I hereby declare that with her own free will I this day do take Naku, my father's brother's daughter, to wife, and seat myself in the king's chair. Let all obey, on pain of death, the king's word.'" "It is well, Naku; be it according to thy wish," replied Kimyera. Naku departed and proceeded in search of Sebwana; and, when she found him, she affected great distress and indignation. "How is this, Sebwana? I gave orders that our guests should be tenderly cared for and supplied with every needful thing. But I find, on inquiring this morning, that all through yesterday they were left alone to wonder at our sudden disregard for their wants. Haste, my friend, and make amends for thy neglect. Go to my fields and plantations, collect all that is choicest for our guests, lest, when they leave us, they will proclaim our unkindness." Sebwana was amazed at this charge of neglect, and in anger hastened to find out the pages. But the pages, through Naku's good care, absented themselves, and could not be found; so that old Sebwana was obliged to depend upon a few unarmed slaves to drive the cattle and carry the choicest treasures of the queen's fields and plantations for the use of the strangers. Sebwana having at last left the town, Naku returned to Kimyera, whom she found with a sad and disconsolate aspect. "Why, what ails thee, Kimyera?" she asked. "The chair is now vacant. Arm thyself and follow me to the audience court." "Ah, Naku! I but now remembered that as yet I know not whether my mother and good nurse are alive or dead. They may be waiting for me anxiously somewhere near the Myanja, or their bones may be bleaching on one of the great plains we traversed in coming hither." "Nay, Kimyera, my lord, this is not a time for mourning. Bethink thee of the present needs first. The chair of the king awaits thee. Rise, and occupy it, and to-morrow all Ganda is at thy service to find thy lost mother and nurse. Come, delay not, lest Sebwana return and take vengeance on us all." "Fear not, Naku, it was but a passing fit of grief which filled my mind. Sebwana must needs be strong and brave to dispossess me when Naku is on my side," saying which Kimyera dressed himself in war-costume, with a crown of cock's tail feathers on his head, a great leopard skin depending from his neck down his back, a girdle of white monkey-skin round his waist, his body and face brilliantly painted with vermilion and saffron. He then armed himself with two bright shining spears of great length, and bearing a shield of dried elephant hide, which no ordinary spear could penetrate, he strode after Queen Naku towards the audience court in the royal palace. Mugema, somewhat similarly armed, followed his foster-son. As Kimyera strode proudly on, the great drum of Ganda sounded, and its deep tones were heard far and wide. Immediately the populace, who knew well that the summons of the great drum announced an important event, hastily armed themselves, and filled the great court. Naku, the queen, they found seated in a chair alongside of the king's chair, which was now unfilled, and in front of her was a tall young stranger, who prostrated himself three times before the queen. He was then seen bowing six times before the empty king's chair. Rising to his feet, he stepped towards it, and afterwards faced the multitude, who were looking on wonderingly. The young stranger, lifting his long spears and raising his shield in an attitude of defence, cried out aloud, so that all heard his voice: "Lo, people of Ganda! I am Kimyera, son of Kalimera, by Wanyana of Unyoro. I hereby declare that with her own free will I this day do take Naku, my father's brother's daughter, to wife, and seat myself in the king's chair. Let all obey, on pain of death, the king's word." On concluding this address, he stepped back a pace, and gravely sat in the king's chair. A loud murmur rose from the multitude, and the shafts of spears were seen rising up, when Naku rose to her feet, and said: "People of Ganda, open your ears. I, Naku, the legitimate queen of Ganda, hereby declare that I have found my father's brother's son, and I, this day, of my own free will and great love for him, do take him for my lord and husband. By full right Kimyera fills the king's chair. I charge you all henceforth to be loyal to him, and him only." As she ended her speech the people gave a great shout of welcome to the new king, and they waved their spears, and clashed them against their shields, thus signifying their willing allegiance to King Kimyera. The next day great bodies of strong men were despatched in different directions for the king's mother and his nurse, and for Sebarija and the two cows, Namala and Nakaombeh. If alive they were instructed to convey them with honour and care to Ganda, and if any fatal misadventure had happened to them, their remains were to be borne with all due respect to the king. Sebwana, meanwhile, had started for the plantations, and hearing the thunder of the great drum, divined that Naku had deposed him in favour of the young stranger. To assure himself of the fact, he sent a confidential slave to discover the truth of the matter, while he sought a place where he could await, unobserved, the return of his messenger. When his slave came back to him he learned what great event had occurred during his short absence, and that his power had been given to another. Knowing the fate attending those thus deposed, he secretly retired to the district that had given him birth, where he lived obscure and safe until he died at a good old age. After some days Sebarija and Mugema's wife, and the two cows Namala and Nakaombeh, were found by the banks of Myanja, near a rocky hill which contained a cave, whither they had retired to seek a dwelling-place until news could be found of Mugema and Kimyera. But Wanyana, the king's mother, while gathering fuel near the cave during the absence of Sebarija and the potter's wife, had been fatally wounded by a leopard, before her cries brought Sebarija to her rescue. A short time after she had been taken into the cave she had died of her wounds, and her body had been folded in such furs and covering as her friends possessed, that Kimyera, on his return, might be satisfied of the manner of her death. Kimyera, accompanied by his wife Naku and old Mugema, set out from Ganda with a great escort to receive the long-lost couple and the remains of Wanyana. Mugema rejoiced to see his old wife once more, though he deeply regretted the loss of his friend the princess. As for the king, his grief was excessive, but Naku, with her loving ways, assisted him to bear his great misfortune. A period of mourning, for an entire moon, was enjoined on all the people, after which a great mound was built at Kagoma over the remains of the unfortunate princess, and Sebarija was duly installed as keeper of the monument. Ever since that day it has become the custom to bury the queen-mothers near the grave of Wanyana, and to appoint keepers of the royal cemetery in memory of Sebarija, who first occupied that post. While he lived Sebarija was honoured with a visit, on the first day of every alternate moon, from Kimyera, who always brought with him a young buffalo as a gift to the faithful cowherd. During these days the king and Sebarija were accustomed to play their flutes together as they did in the old time, and their seats were on mats placed on top of the mound, while the escort and servants of the king and queen sat all round the foot of it, and this was the manner in which Wanyana's memory was honoured during her son's life. Kimyera finally settled with Queen Naku at Birra, where he built a large town. Mugema and his wife, with their two cows Namala and Nakaombeh, lived near the palace for many years, until they died. Darkness and Wood-burr accompanied the king on many a hunt in the plains bordering the Myanja, in the woods of Ruwambo, and along the lakelands which look towards Bussi; and they in their turn died and were honourably interred with many folds of bark-cloth. Queen Naku, after giving birth to three sons, died during the birth of her fourth child, and was buried with great honour near Birra, and finally, after living to a great old age, the hunter king, Kimyera, died, mourned by all his people. CHAPTER TEN. THE LEGEND OF THE LEOPARDESS AND HER TWO SERVANTS, DOG AND JACKAL. The following legend was also told by Kadu as we approached Isangila cataract. Long ago, in the early age of Uganda, a leopardess, in want of a servant to do chores in her den, was solicited by a jackal to engage him to perform that duty. As Jackal had a very suspicious appearance, with his ears drawn back, and his furtive eyes, and a smile which always seemed to be a leer, the Leopardess consulted with Dog, whom she had lately hired as her steward, as to the propriety of trusting such a cunning-looking animal. Dog trotted out to the entrance of the den to examine the stranger for himself, and, after close inspection of him, asked Jackal what work he could do. Jackal replied humbly and fawningly, and said that he could fetch water from the brook, collect fuel, sweep out the house, and was willing, if necessary, to cook now and then, as he was not a novice in the art of cooking; and, looking at Leopardess, "I am very fond of cubs, and am very clever in nursing them." Mistress Leopardess, on hearing this, seemed to be impressed with the abilities of Jackal, and, without waiting for the advice of Dog, engaged him at once, and said: "Jackal, you must understand that my custom is to feed my servants well. What is left from my table is so abundant that I have heard no complaints from any who have been with me. Therefore you need fear no starvation, but while you may depend upon being supplied with plenty of meat, the bones must not be touched. Dog shall be your companion, but neither he nor anyone else is permitted to touch the bones." "I shall be quite content, Mistress Leopardess. Meat is good enough for me, and for good meat you may depend upon it I shall give good work." The household of Mistress Leopardess was completed; she suffered no anxiety, and enjoyed herself in her own way. The chase was her great delight. The forest and plains were alive with game, and each morning at sunrise it was her custom to set out for the hunt, and scarcely a day passed but she returned with sufficient meat to fatten her household. Dog and Jackal expressed themselves delighted with the luscious repasts which they enjoyed, and a sleek roundness witnessed that they fared nobly. But as it frequently happens with people who have everything they desire, Dog, in a short while, became more nice and fastidious in his tastes. He hankered after the bones which were forbidden him, and was heard to sigh deeply whenever Mistress Leopardess collected the bones and stored them in the interior, and his eyes became filled with tears as he eyed the rich morsels stowed away. His feelings at last becoming intolerable, he resolved to appeal to his mistress one day, as she appeared to be in a more amiable mood than usual, and said: "Mistress, thanks to you, the house is always well supplied with meat, and none of your servants have any reason to think that they will ever suffer the pangs of hunger; but, speaking for myself, mistress mine, I wish for one thing more, if you will be so good as to grant it." "And what may that be, greedy one?" asked Leopardess. "Well, you see, mistress, I fear you do not understand the nature of dogs very well. You must know dogs delight in marrow, and often prefer it to meat. The latter by itself is good, but however plentiful and good it may be, without an occasional morsel of marrow it is apt to pall. Dogs also love to sharpen their teeth on bones and screw their tongues within the holes for the sake of the rich juice. By itself, marrow would not fatten my ribs; but meat with marrow is most delectable. Now, good mistress, seeing that I have been so faithful in your service, so docile and prompt to do your bidding, will you not be gracious enough to let me gnaw the bones and extract the marrow?" "No," roared Leopardess decisively, "that is positively forbidden; and let me warn you that the day you venture to do so, a strange event will happen suddenly, which shall have most serious consequences to you and to all in this house. "And you, Jackal, bear what I say well in mind," she continued, turning to that servile subordinate. "Yes, mistress; I will, most certainly. Indeed, I do not care very greatly for bones," said Jackal, "and I hope my friend and mate, Dog, will remember, good mistress, what you say." "I hear, mistress," replied Dog, "and since it is your will, I must needs obey." The alarming words of Leopardess had the effect of compelling Dog and Jackal for awhile to desist from even thinking of marrow, and the entreaty of Dog appeared to be forgotten by Leopardess, though Jackal was well aware, by the sparkles in the covetous eyes of Dog when any large bone was near him, how difficult it was for him to resist the temptation. Day after day Leopardess sallied out from her den, and returned with kids, goats, sheep, antelopes, zebra, and often a young giraffe; and one day she brought a great buffalo to her household, and cubs and servants came running to greet her, and praise her successful hunting. On this day Dog undertook to prepare the dinner. The buffalo-meat was cooked in exquisite fashion, and when it was turned out of the great pot, steaming and trickling over everywhere with juice, Dog caught sight of a thigh-bone and yellow marrow glistening within. The temptation to steal it was too great to resist. He contrived to drop the bone back again into the pot, furnished the tray quickly with the meat, and sent Jackal with it to Leopardess, saying that he would follow with the kabobs and stew. As soon as Jackal had gone out of the kitchen, Dog whipped the bone out of the pot and slyly hid it; then, loading stew and kabobs on a tray, he hurried after Jackal, and began officiously bustling about, fawning upon Leopardess, stroking the cubs as he placed them near their mamma around the smoking trays, scolding Jackal for his laziness, and bidding him hurry up with the steaks. All of which, of course, was due to his delight that he had a rare treat in store for himself snugly hidden away. Leopardess was pleased to bestow a good many praises upon Dog's cooking, and the cubs even condescended to smile their approval for the excellent way in which their wants were supplied. Towards evening Mistress Leopardess went out again, but not before reminding Jackal of his duties towards the cubs, and bidding him, if it were late before she returned, on no account to leave them alone in the dark. Dog smilingly followed his mistress to the door, wishing her, in the most fawning manner, every success. When he thought that his mistress was far enough, and Jackal quite occupied with the cubs, Dog hastened to the kitchen, and, taking up his bone, stole out of the house, and carried it to a considerable distance off. When he thought he was safe from observation, he lay down, and, placing the bone between his paws, was about to indulge his craving for marrow, when lo! the bone was seen to fly away back to the den. Wondering at such a curious event, furious at his disappointment, and somewhat alarmed as he remembered Leopardess's warning words, he rushed after it, crying: "Jackal, Jackal! shut the door; the bone is coming. Jackal, please shut the door." Jackal fortunately was at the door, squatting on his haunches, having just arrived there from nursing the cubs, and saw the bone coming straight towards him, and Dog galloping and crying out to shut the door. Quickly perceiving that Dog had at last allowed his appetite to get the better of his duty, and having, truth to say, a fellow-feeling for his fellow-servant, Jackal closed the door just in time, for in about a second afterwards the bone struck the door with a tremendous force, dinting it deeply. Then Jackal turned to Dog, on recovering from his astonishment, and angrily asked, "Oh, Dog, do you know what you are doing? Have you no sense? You came near being the death of me this time. I'll tell you what, my friend, if Mistress Leopardess hears of this, your life is not worth a feather." "Now don't, please, good Jackal--don't say anything of it this time. The fright I have had is quite sufficient to keep me from touching a bone again." "Well, I am sure I don't wish you any harm, but for your life's sake do not be so dull as to forget the lesson you have learned." Soon after Leopardess returned with a small antelope for the morrow's breakfast, and cried out to Jackal, as was usual with her on returning from the hunt: "Now, my Jackal, bring the cubs hither; my dugs are so heavy. How are the little ones?" "Ah, very well, ma'am: poor little dears, they have been in a sweet sleep ever since you went out." A few days later, Leopardess brought a fat young zebra, and Jackal displayed his best skill in preparing it for dinner. Dog also assisted with wise suggestions in the preparation of certain auxiliaries to the feast. When all was ready, Dog laid the table, and as fast as Jackal brought the various dishes, Dog arranged them in the most tempting manner on fresh banana-leaves, spread over the ample plateau. Just before sitting down to the meal, Leopardess heard a strange noise without, and bounded to the door, growling angrily at being disturbed. Dog instantly seized the opportunity of her absence to extract a great bone from one of the trays, and stowed it in a recess in the wall of the passage leading from the kitchen. Presently Leopardess came back, and when the cubs were brought the meal was proceeded with in silence. When they had all eaten enough, the good effect of it was followed by commendations upon the cooking, and the juicy flavour of the meat, and how well Jackal had prepared everything. Neither was Dog forgotten by the mistress and her young ones, and he was dismissed with the plenteous remnants of the feast for himself and mate, with the courteous hope that they would find enough and to spare. In the afternoon Leopardess, having refreshed herself with a nap, sallied out once more, enjoining Jackal, as she was going out of the den, to be attentive to her little ones during her absence. While his friend Jackal proceeded towards the cubs, Dog surreptitiously abstracted his bone from the cavity in the passage wall, and trotted out unobserved. When he had arrived at a secluded place, he lay down, and, seizing the bone between his paws, was about to give it a preliminary lick, when again, to his dismay and alarm, the bone flew up and away straight for the door. Dog loped after it as fast as his limbs could carry him, crying out: "Oh, Jackal, Jackal, good Jackal! Shut the door. Hurry up. Shut the door, good Jackal." Again Jackal heard his friend's cry, and sprang up to close the door, and the instant he had done so the bone struck it with dreadful force. Turning to the crestfallen and panting Dog, Jackal said sternly: "You are a nice fellow, you are. I well see the end of you. Now listen, this is the last time that I shall help you, my friend. The next time you take a bone you will bear the consequences, so look out." "Come, Jackal, now don't say any more; I will not look at a bone again, I make you a solemn promise." "Keep to that, and you will be safe," replied Jackal. Poor Dog, however, was by no means able to adhere to his promise, for a few days afterwards Leopardess brought a fat young eland, and he found an opportunity to abstract a fine marrowbone before serving his generous mistress. Late in the afternoon, after dinner and siesta, Leopardess, before going out, repeated her usual charge to Jackal, and while the faithful servant retired to his nursing duties, greedy Dog sought his bone, and stole out to the forest with it. This time he went further than usual. Jackal meanwhile finding the cubs indisposed for sleep, led them out to the door of the den, where they frisked and gambolled about with all the liveliness of cubhood. Jackal was sitting at a distance from the door when he heard the cries of Dog. "Oh, Jackal, Jackal, good Jackal! Shut the door quickly. Look out for the bone. It is coming. Shut the door quickly." "Ha, ha! friend Dog! At it again, eh?" said the Jackal. "It is too late, too late, Doggie dear, the cubs are in the doorway." He looked up, however, saw the bone coming with terrific speed; he heard it whiz as it flew close over his head, and almost immediately after it struck one of the cubs, killing it instantly. Jackal appeared to quickly realise the consequences of Dog's act, and his own carelessness, and feeling that henceforth Leopardess's den would be no home for him, he resolved to escape. Just then Dog came up, and when he saw the dead cub he set up a piteous howl. "Ay," said Jackal. "You fool, you begin to see what your greed has brought upon us all. Howl on, my friend, but you will howl differently when Mistress Leopardess discovers her dead cub. Bethink yourself how all this will end. Our mighty mistress, if she catches you, will make mincemeat of you. Neither may I stay longer here. My home must be a burrow in the wild wood, or in the rocky cave in future. What will you do?" "I, Jackal? I know not yet. Go, if you will, and starve yourself. I trust to find a better home than a cramped burrow, or the cold shelter of a cave. I love warmth, and kitchen fires, and the smell of roast meats too well to trust myself to the chilly covert you propose to seek, and my coat is too fine for rough outdoor life." "Hark!" cried Jackal, "do you hear that? That is the mistress's warning note! Fare you well, Doggie. I shall dream of you to-night lying stark under the paw of the Leopardess." Jackal waited to say no more, but fled from the scene, and from that day to this Jackal has been a vagabond. He loves the darkness, and the twilight. It is at such times you hear his yelp. He is very selfish and cowardly. He has not courage enough to kill anything for himself, but prefers to wait--licking his chops--until the lion or the leopard, who has struck the game, has gorged himself. As for Dog he was sorely frightened, but after a little deliberation he resolved to face the matter out until he was certain of the danger. He conveyed the cubs, living and dead, quickly within, and then waited with well-dissembled anxiety the coming of his mistress. Leopardess shortly arrived, and was met at the door by the obsequious Dog with fawning welcome. "Where is Jackal?" asked Leopardess as she entered. "I regret to say he has not returned yet from a visit which he said he was bound to pay his friends and family, whom he had not seen for so long," replied Dog. "Then you go and bring my little ones to me. Poor little dears, they must be hungry by this, and my milk troubles me," commanded the mistress. Dog departed readily, thinking to himself, "I am in for it now." He soon returned, bearing one of the cubs, and laid it down. "Bring the other one, quickly," cried Leopardess. "Yes, ma'am, immediately," he said. Dog took the same cub up again, but in a brief time returned with it. The cub, already satisfied, would not touch the teat. "Go and bring the other one, stupid," cried Leopardess, observing that it would not suck. "This is the other one, mistress," he replied. "Then why does it not suck?" she asked. "Perhaps it has not digested its dinner." "Where is Jackal? Has he not yet returned? Jackal!" she cried. "Where are you, Jackal?" From the jungle out-doors Jackal shrilly yelped, "Here I am, mistress!" "Come to me this instant," commanded Leopardess. "Coming, mistress, coming," responded Jackal's voice faintly, for at the sound of her call he had been alarmed and was trotting off. "Why, what can be the matter with the brute, trifling with me in this manner? Here, Dog, take this cub to the crib." Dog hastened to obey, but Leopardess, whose suspicions had been aroused, quietly followed him as he entered the doorway leading into the inner recess of the house where the crib was placed. Having placed the living near the dead cub in the crib, Dog turned to leave, when he saw his dreaded mistress in the doorway, gazing with fierce distended eyes, and it flashed on him that she had discovered the truth, and fear adding speed to his limbs he darted like an arrow between her legs, and rushed out of the den. With a loud roar of fury Leopardess sprang after him, Dog running for dear life. His mistress was gaining upon him, when Dog turned aside, and ran round the trees. Again Leopardess was rapidly drawing near, when Dog shot straight away and increased the distance between them a little. Just as one would think Dog had no hope of escaping from his fierce mistress, he saw a wart-hog's burrow, into which he instantly dived. Leopardess arrived at the hole in the ground as the tail of Dog disappeared from her sight. Being too large of body to enter, she tore up the entrance to the burrow, now and then extending her paw far within to feel for her victim. But the burrow was of great length, and ran deep downwards, and she was at last obliged to desist from her frantic attempts to reach the runaway. Reflecting awhile, Leopardess looked around and saw Monkey near by, sitting gravely on a branch watching her. "Come down, Monkey," she imperatively commanded, "and sit by this burrow and watch the murdering slave who is within, while I procure materials to smoke him out." Monkey obeyed, and descending the tree, took his position at the mouth of the burrow. But it struck him that should Dog venture out, his strength would be unable to resist him. He therefore begged Leopardess to stay a moment, while he went to bring a rock with which he could block the hole securely. When this was done Leopardess said, "Now stay here, and do not stir until I return; I will not be long, and when I come I will fix him." Leopardess, leaving the burrow in charge of Monkey, commenced to collect a large quantity of dry grass, and then proceeded to her house to procure fire wherewith to light it, and suffocate Dog with the smoke. Dog, soon after entering the burrow had turned himself round and faced the hole, to be ready for all emergencies. He had heard Leopardess give her orders to Monkey, had heard Monkey's plans for blockading him, as well as the threat of Leopardess to smoke him out. There was not much hope for him if he stayed longer. After a little while he crept close to the rock that blocked his exit, and whispered: "Monkey, let me out, there's a good fellow." "It may not be," replied Monkey. "Ah, Monkey, why are you so cruel? I have not done any harm to you. Why do you stand guard over me to prevent my escape?" "I am simply obeying orders, Dog. Leopardess said, `Stay here and watch, and see that Dog does not escape;' and I must do so or harm will come to me, as you know." Then said Dog, "Monkey, I see that you have a cruel heart, too, though I thought none but the Leopard kind could boast of that. May you feel some day the deep despair I feel in my heart. Let me say one word more to you before I die. Put your head close to me that you may hear it." Monkey, curious to know what the last word could be about, put his face close between the rock and the earth and looked in, upon which Dog threw so much dust and sand into his cunning eyes as almost to blind him. Monkey staggered back from the entrance, and while knuckling his eyes to nib the sand out, Dog put his fore-feet against the rock and soon rolled it away. Then, after a hasty view around, Dog fled like the wind from the dangerous spot. Monkey, after clearing his eyes from the dirt thrown in them, and reviewing his position, began to be concerned as to his own fate. It was not long before his crafty mind conceived that it would be a good idea to place some soft nuts within the burrow, and roll back the stone into its place. When Leopardess returned with the fire she was told that Dog was securely imprisoned within, upon which she piled the grass over the burrow and set fire to it. Presently a crackling sound was heard within. "What can that be?" demanded Leopardess. "That must surely be one of Dog's ears that you heard exploding," replied Monkey. After a short time another crackling sound was heard. "And what is that?" asked Leopardess. "Ah, that must be the other ear of course," Monkey answered. But as the fire grew hotter and the heat increased within there were a great many of these sounds heard, at which Monkey laughed gleefully and cried: "Ah ha! do you hear? Dog is splitting to pieces now. Oh, he is burning up finely; every bone in his body is cracking. Ah, but it is a cruel death, though, is it not?" "Let him die," fiercely cried Leopardess. "He killed one of my young cubs--one of the loveliest little fellows you ever saw." Both Leopardess and Monkey remained at the burrow until the fire had completely died out, then the first said: "Now, Monkey, bring me a long stick with a hook at the end of it, that I may rake Dog's bones out and feast my eyes upon them." Monkey hastened to procure the stick, with which the embers were raked out, when Leopardess exclaimed: "What a queer smell this is! It is not at all like what one would expect from a burnt dog." "Ah," replied Monkey, "Dog must be completely burnt by this. Of that there can be no doubt. Did you ever burn a dog before that you know the smell of its burnt body so well?" "No," said the Leopardess; "but this is not like the smell of roast meat. Rake out all the ashes that I may see the bones and satisfy myself." Monkey, compelled to do as he was commanded, put in his stick, and drew out several half-baked nuts, the shells of which were cracked and gaping open. These Leopardess no sooner saw than she seized Monkey, and furiously cried: "You wretch, you have deceived and trifled with me! You have permitted the murderer of my cub to escape, and your life shall now be the forfeit for his." "Pardon, mighty Leopardess, but let me ask how do you propose to slay me?" "Why, miserable slave, how else should I kill you but with one scratch of my claws?" "Nay, then, great Queen, my blood will fall on your head and smother you. It is better for yourself that you should toss me up above that thorny bough, so that when I fall upon it the thorns may penetrate my heart and kill me." No sooner had Monkey ended, than fierce Leopardess tossed Monkey upward as he had directed; but the latter seized the bough and sat up, and from this he sprang upward into another still higher, and thence from branch to branch and from tree to tree until he was safe from all possible pursuit. Leopardess perceived that another of her intended victims had escaped, and was furious with rage. "Come down this instant," she cried to Monkey, hoping he would obey her. "Nay, Leopardess. It has been told me, and the forest is full of the report, that your cruelty has driven from you Jackal and Dog, and that they will never serve you again. Cruel people never can reckon upon friends. I and my tribe, so long servants to you, will henceforth be strangers to you. Fare you well." A great rustling was heard in the trees overhead as Monkey and his tribe migrated away from the district of the cruel Leopardess who, devoured with rage, was obliged to depart with not one of her vengeful thoughts gratified. As she was returning to her den, Leopardess bethought herself of the Oracle, who was her friend, who would no doubt, at her solicitations, reveal the hiding-places of Jackal and Dog. She directed her steps to the cave of the Oracle, who was a nondescript practising witchcraft in the wildest part of the district. To this curious being she related the story of the murder of her cub by Jackal and Dog, and requested him to inform her by what means she could discover the criminals and wreak her vengeance on them. The Oracle replied, "Jackal has gone into the wild wood, and he and his family henceforward will always remain there, to degenerate in time into a suspicious and cowardly race. Dog has fled to take his shelter in the home of man, to be his companion and friend, and to serve man against you and your kind. But lest you accuse me of ill-will to you, I will tell you how you may catch Dog if you are clever and do not allow your temper to exceed your caution. Not far off is a village belonging to one of the human tribes, near which there is a large ant-hill, where moths every morning flit about in the sunshine of the early day. About the same time Dog leaves the village to sport and gambol and chase the moths. If you can find a lurking-place not far from it, where you can lie silently in wait, Dog may be caught by you in an unwary moment while at his daily play. I have spoken." Leopardess thanked the Oracle and retired brooding over its advice. That night the moon was very clear and shining bright, and she stole out of her den, and proceeding due west as she was directed, in a few hours she discovered the village and the ant-hill described by the Oracle. Near the mound she also found a thick dense bush, which was made still more dense by the tall wild grass surrounding it. In the depths of this she crouched, waiting for morning. At dawn the village wherein men and women lived was astir, and at sunrise the gates were opened. A little later Dog signalled himself by his well-known barks as he came out to take his morning's exercise. Unsuspicious of the presence of his late dread mistress he bounded up the hill and began to circle around, chasing the lively moths. Leopardess, urged by her anger, did not wait until Dog, tired with his sport, would of his own accord stray among the bushes, but uttering a loud roar sprang out from her hiding-place. Dog, warned by her voice, which he well knew, put his tail between his legs and rushed through the open gates and alarmed his new masters, who came pouring from their houses with dreadful weapons in their hands, who chased her, and would have slain her had she not bounded over the fence. Thus Leopardess lost her last chance of revenging the death of her cub; but as she was creeping homeward her mortification was so great that she vowed to teach her young eternal hostility towards Dog and all his tribe. Dog also, convinced that his late mistress was one who nourished an implacable resentment when offended, became more cautious, and a continued life with his new masters increased his attachment for them. When he finally married, and was blessed with a progeny, he taught his pups various arts by which they might ingratiate themselves more and more with the human race. He lived in comfort and affluence to a good old age, and had the satisfaction to see his family grow more and more in the estimation of their generous masters, until dogs and men became inseparable companions. Leopardess and her cub removed far away from the house associated with her misfortune, but though Time healed the keen sore of her bereavement by blessing her annually with more cubs, her hate for Dog and his kind was lasting and continues to this day. And thus it was that the friendly fellowship which reigned between the forest animals during the golden age of Uganda was broken for ever. For proof of the truth of what I have said consider the matter in your own minds. Regard the Ape who, upon the least alarm springs up the tree, and stays not until he has secured himself far from reach. Think of the Jackal in his cheerless solitude deep in the bowels of the earth, or in the farthest rocky recess that he can discover, ever on the watch against some foe, too full of distrust to have a friend, the most selfish and cowardly of the forest community. The Leopard is the enemy at all times, night and day, of every animal, unless it be the lion and the elephant. As for the Dog, where is the man who is not acquainted with his fidelity, his courage in time of danger, his watchful care of his interests by night, and his honest love for the family which feeds him? My story is here ended. CHAPTER ELEVEN. A SECOND VERSION OF THE LEOPARD AND THE DOG STORY. Sarboko, who was originally from Unyoro, a country which lies to the north of Uganda, and had been employed as a page by Mtesa, king of Uganda, protested that his version of how the dog became estranged from the leopard, his chum, was nearer the truth than that given by Kadu. Perceiving that he was inclined to contribute to our amusement, for a reason of his own, we ranged ourselves around the camp fire in the usual way and prepared to listen to another version of a legend which is popular among most of the tribes dwelling in the Lake Region. HOW THE DOG OUTWITTED THE LEOPARD. In the early time there was a dog and a leopard dwelling together in a cave like chums. They shared and fared alike. Exact half of everything and equal effort were the terms upon which they lived. Many and many a famous raid among the flocks and fowls in the human villages they made. The leopard was by far the strongest and boldest, and was most successful in catching prey. Dog lived so well on the spoils brought home by his friend that he became at last fat and lazy, and he began to dislike going out at night in the rain and cold dew, and to hide this growing habit from Leopard he had to be very cunning. He always invented some excuse or another to explain why he brought nothing to the common larder, and finally he hit upon a new plan of saving himself from the toil and danger. Just before dusk one day, Leopard and Dog were sociably chatting together, when Leopard said that he intended that night to catch a fine fat black goat which he had observed in the nearest village to their den. He had watched him getting fatter every day, and he was bent upon bringing him home. "Black is it?" cried Dog. "That is strange, for that is also the colour of the one I purposed to catch to-night." The two friends slept until most of the night was gone, but when there were signs that morning was not far off they silently loped away to their work. They parted at the village which Leopard had selected to rob, Dog whispering "Good luck" to him. Dog trotted off a little way and sneaked back to watch his friend. Leopard stealthily surveying the tall fence, saw one place which he could leap over, and at one spring was inside the village. Snuffing about, he discovered the goat-pen, forced an entrance, and seizing his prize by the neck, drew it out. He then flung it over his shoulders, and with a mighty leap landed outside the fence. Dog, who had watched his chance, now cried out in an affected voice, "Hi, hi--wake up! Leopard has killed the goat. There he is. Ah, ah! Kill him, kill him!" Alarmed at the noise made, and hearing a rustle in the grass near him, Leopard was obliged to abandon his prize, and to save his own life, dropped the goat and fled. Dog, chuckling loudly at the success of his ruse, picked the dead goat up, and trotted home to the den with it. "Oh, see, Leopard!" cried he, as he reached the entrance, "what a fat goat I've got at my village. Is it not a heavy one? But where is yours? Did you not succeed after all?" "Oh! I was alarmed by the owners in the village, who pursued me and yelled out, `Kill him, kill him!' and there was something rustling in the grass close by, and I thought that I was done for; but I dropped the goat and ran away. I dare say they have found the animal by this, and have eaten our meat. Never mind, though, better luck next time. I saw a fine fat white goat in the pen, which I am sure to catch to-morrow night." "Well, I am very sorry, but cheer your heart. You shall have an equal share with me of this. Let us bestir ourselves to cook it." They gathered sticks and made a fire, and began to roast it. When it was nearly ready Dog went outside, and took a stick and beat the ground, and whined out: "Oh! please, I did not do it. It was Leopard that killed the goat. Oh! don't kill me. It was Leopard who stole it." Leopard, hearing these cries and the blows of the stick, thought to himself: "Ah! the men have followed us to our den, and are killing Dog; then they will come and kill me if I do not run." He therefore ran out and escaped. Dog, on seeing him well away, coolly returned to the den and devoured the whole of the meat, leaving only the bones. After a long time Leopard returned to the den, and found Dog moaning piteously. "What is the matter, my friend?" he asked. "Ah! oh! don't touch me; don't touch me, I beg of you. I am so bruised and sore all over! Ah! my bones! They have half killed me," moaned Dog. "Poor fellow! Well, lie still and rest. There is nothing like rest for a bruised body. I will get that white goat the next time I try." After waiting two or three days, Leopard departed to obtain the white goat. Dog sneaked after him, and served his friend in the same way, bringing the white goat himself, and bragging how he had succeeded, while pretending to pity Leopard for his bad luck. Three times running Dog served him with the same trick, and Leopard was much mortified at his own failure. Then Leopard thought of the Muzimu-- the oracle who knows all things, and gives such good advice to those who are unfortunate and ask for his help--and he resolved, in his distress, to seek him. In the heart of the tall, dark woods, where the bush is most dense, where vines clamber over the clumps, and fold themselves round and round the trees, and hang in long coils by the side of a cool stream, the Muzimu resided. Leopard softly drew near the sacred place and cried, "Oh! Muzimu, have pity on me. I am almost dying with hunger. I used to be bold and strong, and successful, but now, of late, though I catch my prey as of old, something always happens to scare me away, and I lose the meat I have taken. Help me, O Muzimu, and tell how my good luck may return." After a while the Muzimu answered in a deep voice, "Leopard, your ill-luck comes from your own folly. You know how to catch prey, but it takes a dog to know how to eat it. Go; watch your friend, and your ill-luck will fly away." Leopard was never very wise, though he had good eyes, and was swift and brave, and he thought over what the Muzimu said. He could not understand in what way his good luck would return by watching his friend, but he resolved to follow the advice of the Muzimu. The next night Leopard gave out that he was going to seize a dun-coloured goat, and Dog said, "Ah! that is what I mean to do too. I think a dun-coated goat so sweet." The village was reached, a low place was found in the palings, and Leopard, as quick as you could wink, was over and among the goats. With one stroke he struck his victim dead, threw it over his shoulders, and, with a flying leap, carried it outside. Dog, who was hiding near the place, in a strange voice cried, "Ah! here he is--the thief of a Leopard! Kill him! kill him!" Leopard turning his head around, saw him in the grass and heard him yelp, "Awu-ou-ou! Awu-ou-ou! Kill him! kill him!" dropped the goat for an instant and said, "Ah, it is you, my false friend, is it? Wait a bit, and I will teach you how you may steal once too often." With eyes like balls of fire, he rushed at him, and would have torn him into pieces, but Dog's instinct told him that the game he had been playing was up, and burying his tail between his hind legs, he turned and fled for dear life. Round and round the village he ran, darting this way and that, until, finding his strength was oozing out of him, he dashed finally through a gap in the fence, straight into a man's house and under the bed, where he lay gasping and panting. Seeing that the man, who had been scared by his sudden entry, was about to take his spear to kill him, he crawled from under the bed to the man's feet, and licked them, and turned on his back imploring mercy. The man took pity on him, tied him up, and made a pet of him. Ever since Dog and Man have been firm friends, but a mortal hatred has existed between Dog and Leopard. Dog's back always bristles straight up when his enemy is about, and there is no truer warning of the Leopard's presence than that given by Dog--while Leopard would rather eat a dog than a goat any day. That is the way--as I heard it in Unyoro--that the chumship between Leopard and Dog was broken up. CHAPTER TWELVE. THE LEGEND OF THE CUNNING TERRAPIN AND THE CRANE. The following story of the cunning Terrapin and the Crane established Kadu's reputation among us, and the Zanzibaris were never so amused as on this evening. "Master," began Kadu, after we had made ourselves comfortable before a bright and crackling fire, "some men say that animals do not reason, and cannot express themselves, but I should like to know how it is that we perceive that there is great cunning in their actions, as though they calculated beforehand how to act, and what would be the result. We Waganda think animals are very clever. We observe the cock in the yard, and the hen with her chickens; the leopard, as he is about to pounce on his prey; the lion, as he is about to attack; the crocodile, as he prepares for his rush; the buffalo in the shade, as he awaits the hunter; the elephant, as he stands at attention; and we say to ourselves, how intelligent they are! Our legends are all founded on these things, and we interpret the actions of animals from having seen their methods; and I think men placed in the same circumstances could not have acted much better. It may appear to you, as though we were telling you mere idle tales to raise a laugh. Well, it may be very amusing to hear and talk about them, but it is still more amusing to watch the tricks of animals and insects, and our old men are fond of quoting the actions of animals to teach us, while we are children, what we ought to do. Indeed, there is scarcely a saying but what is founded upon something that an animal was seen to do at one time or another. "Now the story that I am about to relate, is a very old one in Uganda. I heard it when a child, and from the fact that a Terrapin was said to be so cunning, I have never liked to ill-treat a Terrapin, and every time I see one, the story comes to my mind in all its freshness." A Terrapin and a Crane were one time travelling together very sociably. They began their conversation by the Terrapin asking: "How is your family to-day, Miss Crane?" "Oh, very well. Mamma, who is getting old, complains now and then, that's all." "But do you know that it strikes me that she is very fat?" said Terrapin. "Now a thought has just entered my head, which I beg to propose to you. My mother, too, is ailing, and I am rather tired of hearing her complaints day after day; but she is exceedingly lean and tough, though there is plenty of her. I wonder what you will say to my plan? We are both hungry. So let us go and kill your mother, and eat her; and to-morrow, you will come to me, and we will kill my mother. We thus shall be supplied with meat for some days." Replied the Crane, "I like the idea greatly, and agree to it. Let us go about it at once, for hunger is an exacting mistress, and the days of fasting are more frequent than those of fulness." The matricides turned upon their tracks, and, arriving at the house of Mrs Crane, the two cruel creatures seized upon Mamma Crane, and put her to death. They then plucked her clean, and placed her body in the stew-pot, and both Terrapin and Crane feasted. Terrapin then crawled home, leaving Crane to sleep, and the process of digestion. But, alas! Crane soon became very ill. Whether some qualms of conscience disturbed digestion or not, I cannot say, but she passed a troublesome night, and for several days afterwards she did not stir from her house. Terrapin, on reaching the house of its mamma, which was in the hollow of a tree, cried out: "Tu-no-no-no!" upon which Mrs Terrapin said, "Oh, that is my child," and she let down a cord, to which young Terrapin made himself fast, and was assisted to the nest where the parent had already prepared a nice supper for him. Several days later, Terrapin was proceeding through the woods to the pool where he was accustomed to bathe, when at the water-side he met Miss Crane apparently quite spruce and strong again. She hailed Terrapin and said, "Oh, here you are, at last. I have been waiting to see you for some time." "Yes," replied Terrapin, "here I am, and you--how do you feel now? My neighbours told me you were very ill." "I am all right again," said Miss Crane, "but I think my old ma disagreed with me, and I was quite poorly for some days; but I am now anxious to know when you are going to keep your part of the bargain which we made." "What--you mean about the disposing of my old ma?" "Yes, to be sure," answered Crane, "I feel quite hungry." "Well, well. Bargains should always be kept, for if the blood-oath be broken misfortune follows. Your mother's death rests on my head, and I mean to return your hospitality with interest, otherwise, may my shell be soon empty of its tenant. Stay here awhile and I will bring her." So saying, Terrapin departed, and crept to where he had secretly stowed a quantity of india-rubber, in readiness for the occasion. After taking out quite a mass of it, he returned to the pond, where Miss Crane stood on one leg, expectant and winking pleasantly. "I fear, sister Crane," said Terrapin, as he laid his burden down, "that you will find my old ma tough. She turned out to be much leaner than I anticipated. There is no more fat on her bones, than there is on my back. But now, fall to, and welcome. There is plenty there. I am not hungry myself, as I have just finished my dinner." Miss Crane, with her empty stomach, was not fastidious, and stepped out eagerly to the feast so faithfully provided, and began to tear away at what Terrapin had brought. The rubber, however, stretched by the greedy Crane, suddenly flew from her foot, and rebounding, struck her in the face a smart blow. "Oh! oh!" cried Crane, confused with the blow. "Your old ma is most tough." "Yes, she is. I suspected she would prove a little tough," answered Terrapin, with a chuckle. "But don't be bashful. Eat away, and welcome." Again Miss Crane tugged at the rubber to tear it, but the more it was stretched, the more severe were the shocks she received, and her left eye was almost blinded. "Well, I never," exclaimed Miss Crane. "She is too tough altogether." "Try again," cried Terrapin. "Try again; little by little, it is said, a fly eats a cow's tail. You will get a rare and tender bit in time." Miss Crane thus pressed, did so, and seizing a piece lay back, and drew on it so hard that when the rubber at last slipped, it bounded back with such force, that she was sent sprawling to the ground. "Why, what is the matter?" asked Terrapin, pretending to be astonished. "She is tough, I admit; but loh! our family are famous for toughness. However, the tougher it is, the longer it lasts on the stomach. Try again, sister Crane; I warrant you will manage it next time." "Oh, bother your old ma. Eat her yourself. I have had enough of that kind of meat." "You give it up, do you?" cried Terrapin. "Well, well, it is a pity to throw good meat away. Maybe, if I keep it longer it will get tenderer by and by." They thus parted, Terrapin bearing his share of rubber away in one direction, and Miss Crane sadly disgusted, striding grandly off in another, but looking keenly about for something to satisfy her hunger. When she had gone a great distance a parrot flew across her path, and perching on a branch near her, cried out, "Oh, royal bird, say since when has rubber become the food of the bird-king's family?" "What do you mean, Parrot?" she asked. "Well, I saw you tearing at a piece of rubber just now, and when you marched off Terrapin carried it away, and I heard him say--because he has a habit of speaking his thoughts aloud--Oh, how stupid my sister Crane is! She thinks my ma is dead. Ho, ho, ho! what a stupid! And all the way he chuckled and laughed as though he was filled with plantain wine." "Is his ma not dead then?" asked Miss Crane. "Dead! Not a bit of it," replied Parrot. "I saw old Ma Terrapin but a moment ago as I flew by her tree, waiting for her son, and the cord is ready for his cry of `Tu-no-no-no. Ano-no-no. We-no-no-no!'" "Ah, Parrot, your words are good. When we know what another is saying behind our backs, we discover the workings of his heart. The words of Terrapin are like the bush that covers the trap. Good-by, Parrot. When we next meet, we shall have another story to tell." On the next day, Terrapin observed Miss Crane approaching his house, and he advanced a little way to meet her. "Well, sister Crane, I hope you are all right this morning?" he asked. "Oh yes, so so, brother Terrapin. But you must excuse me just now; I've heard bad news from my family. A brother and sister of mine are suddenly taken ill, and I am bound to go and visit them," answered Crane. "Ah, Miss Crane, that reminds me of my own brother and sister, who are much younger than I am, but very soft and tender. What do you say now to making another bargain?" asked Terrapin with a wink. "You are very good, Terrapin. I will think of it as I go along. I shall be back before noon to-morrow, and we will talk of a trade then." They were very civil to one another as they parted. Terrapin went for his usual walk to the pond, Miss Crane proceeded to visit her family, but muttered: "Ha, ha, Terrapin, you are great at a trade; but you will not make another with me in a hurry till our first one is squared." After she had gone a little way she turned suddenly round and came back to the foot of Terrapin's tree, and cried, "Tu-no-no-no. Ano-no-no-no. We-no-no-no!" "Ah, that is my child's voice," said Ma Terrapin to herself, and let down the cord. Miss Crane caught hold and climbed up towards the nest. Ma Terrapin craned her neck out far to welcome her child, but before she could discover by what means little Terrapin had changed its dress, Miss Crane struck Ma Terrapin with her long sharp bill in the place where the neck joins the shoulder, and in a short time Ma Terrapin was as dead as Miss Crane's own mother. The body was rolled from the nest, and it went falling down, and Miss Crane slid quickly after it. In a quiet place screened by thick bushes Miss Crane made a great fire, with which Ma Terrapin's thick shell was cracked. She then scooped out the flesh, and carried it to her own home, and stowed it in a big black pot. On the next day as Miss Crane was standing on one leg by the pond, with her head half buried in her feathers, who should come along but Terrapin, crying bitterly, and saying, "Ah, my ma is dead. My old ma has been killed. Who will assist me now?" Miss Crane affected to be asleep, but heard every word. When, however, Terrapin was near, she woke up suddenly and said, cheerfully, "Ah! it is Terrapin, my little brother Terrapin. How do you do to-day?" Now as Terrapin had already slain his mother, according to his own confession, it struck him that it would not do to accuse Miss Crane of the murder, because by doing so he would expose his breach of faith with her, but the scent of the roasted flesh of Ma Terrapin came strong just then, and he knew that it was Crane who, discovering his trick, had killed her. He managed, however, to reply briskly: "Sissy, dear, I am but tolerable. But how is your family to-day?" "My brother and sister are much improved, Terrapin. They are both as fat as tallow. By-the-bye, what about that trade you proposed to me?" "I am ready, Miss Crane, for a trade any day. When shall it be?" "No time so good as the present, and if you jog along to the other end of the pond, I will fix my house here, and soon catch up with you." Terrapin professed great delight, and toddled along; but when he had gone a little way his bad habit of thinking aloud came on him, and he was heard to say:-- "My poor ma! my poor ma is dead! O you wicked Crane! I know by the scent of the meat that you have killed my ma. What can I do now?" Miss Crane knew then that she had been discovered, and she began to think that it was time to remove to another district, for Terrapin had many friends in the woods, such as rabbits, jackals, lions, and serpents, and if Terrapin moaned so loud, all the people of the woods would know what she had done, and many would no doubt assist him to punish her. Casting about in her mind for the best place, she remembered an extremely tall tree which was not far from Terrapin's house, a very lofty clean-shafted tree, on the top of which she would be safe from surprise. Thither she hastily removed her belongings, and soon established herself comfortably. She had also provided herself with a store of strong sticks to be used as weapons in case of necessity. Terrapin meanwhile crawled along, moaning loudly his lamentations. Suddenly Rabbit popped out of the woods, and stood in his path. He soon was made aware of Terrapin's bereavement, and strongly sympathised with him. Terrapin related the story in such a way that made Miss Crane appear to be a murderess, against whom the people of the woods should take vengeance. "Then," said Rabbit, "that must be Miss Crane, who is building her house on the very top of that tall tree near your place." "Is she?" asked Terrapin. "I did not know that. She was to have met me here; but I see she knows that she is detected, and is already taking measures to protect herself. But, Rabbit, you who are always wise, tell me how I may avenge myself?" "There is only one way that I know of," answered Rabbit, dubiously. "Go to the Soko (Gorilla?), but he is a hard dealer who will make you pay handsomely for his help. Soko is the king of the ape kind. If you pay him well, he will fasten a cord to Crane's nest, up which you can climb when she is absent. Once there, lie quietly, and when she alights seize her." The plan pleased Terrapin immensely, and possessing a comfortable property upon the loss of his mother, he thought he had sufficient to purchase Soko's assistance. Through the good offices of Rabbit negotiations were entered into with Soko, who agreed for a potful of good nuts, ten bunches of ripe bananas, one hundred eggs, and sundry other trifles, to hang a stout rattan climber to Crane's nest, long enough to reach the ground. The royal bird was soon informed of the conspiracy against her by the Parrot, who loves to carry tales, and Miss Crane resolved to be absent from home while Soko was fastening the climber, but commissioned her friend the Parrot to observe the proceedings, and to report to her when Soko had completed his task. Soko performed his part expeditiously. Terrapin tested the strength of the rattan, and had to confess that Soko had earned his pay, and Rabbit accompanied Terrapin and Soko to Terrapin's house to see the Soko receive his commission. As they departed Parrot flew to inform Miss Crane, who immediately returned to her house to await her enemy. Not long after Terrapin came to the foot of Crane's tree and commenced to climb up. He had nearly reached the top when Miss Crane stood up and delivered such a thwacking blow on Terrapin's back that it caused him to loose his hold and fall to the ground. When Terrapin recovered his senses, he heard Miss Crane cry out-- "Ha! brother Terrapin, that was a nasty fall. You remember the rubber, don't you? There is nothing like the advice you gave me. Try again, Terrapin, my brother. Try again." "You killed my ma, did you not?" asked Terrapin. "I thought you told me that you had killed her according to agreement. Then how can you say that I killed her?" asked Miss Crane. "That was not my ma I gave you. It was only a lump of rubber." "Ho, ho! You confess it then? Well, we are now quits. You induced me to kill my ma, and as you could not keep your part of the bargain, I saved you the trouble. My ma was as much to me as your ma was to you. We have both lost our ma's now. So let us call it even, and be friends again." Terrapin hesitated, but the memory of his ma's loss soon produced the old bitterness, and he became as unforgiving as ever. Miss Crane must, however, be persuaded that the matter was forgiven, otherwise he would never have the opportunity to avenge his ma's death. "All right, Crane," he answered; "but let me come up, and embrace you over it, or do you descend and let us shake hands." "Come up, by all means, Terrapin. I am always at home to friends," said Miss Crane. Terrapin upon this began to climb, but as he was ascending he foolishly began to think aloud again, and he was heard saying-- "Oh, yes, sister Crane. Just wait a little, and you will see. He, he, he!" Miss Crane, who was quietly listening, heard Terrapin's chuckle and muttering, and prepared to receive him properly. When he was within reach, she cried, "Hold hard, Terrapin," and at once proceeded to shower mighty blows on his back, then laid the stick on his feet so sharply that, to protect them, he had to withdraw them into his shell, in doing which he lost his hold and fell to the ground with such force that to anything but a terrapin the great fall would have been instantly fatal. "Try again, Terrapin; try again, my brother. Another time and you will succeed," cried Miss Crane, mockingly. Terrapin slowly recovered his faculties from the second fall, and exclaimed, "Ah, Crane, Crane. If I heed you a second time, call me fool. Yesterday and to-day you triumphed, to-morrow will be my turn." "_Kwa-le, kwa-le_," Miss Crane shrilly cried. "My tree will stand to-morrow where it stood to-day. You know the way to it; if not, your hate will find it." Terrapin toddled away upon this to seek the Lion, to whom, when he had found him, he pleaded so powerfully that the Lion pitied him greatly, and answered, "I may not help you in this matter, for I was not made to climb trees. Go you, and tell Jackal your story, and he will be able to advise you." Acting on the friendly advice, Terrapin sought out the Jackal, to whom he repeated his lamentable tale. The Jackal rewarded him with a sympathetic sigh, and said, "Friend Terrapin, my teeth are sharp and my feet are swift, but, though I am so happily endowed, I have no wings to fly. Go and seek Elephant. His strength is so great that perhaps he will be able to pull the tree down for you." Terrapin proceeded on his way to search out the Elephant, and, after much patient travel, discovered him brooding under a thick shade. To him at once Terrapin unburdened his breast of its load of grief, and appealed piteously for his assistance. "Little Terrapin," replied the kindly Elephant, "your tale is dour. But though I am strong, there are some things that I cannot do. Miss Crane's house is built on one of the biggest trees of the forest, and it would require two score of elephants to drag it down. It is wisdom, and not strength, that you need. Go you and seek Serpent, and he will assist you." Thence Terrapin went to seek Serpent, and, after long seeking, found him coiled, in many shining folds, in the fork of a sturdy tree. "Ah, Serpent," he cried, "you are a kinsman of mine, and I have long sought you. I am in dire distress, my friend," and he proceeded to inveigh against Miss Crane passionately, and concluded by invoking his assistance. "Help me this day," cried Terrapin, "and you shall be my father and my mother, and all my nearest relations in one." "It is well," replied the Serpent, in his slow, deliberate manner. "Miss Crane shall die, and here I make a pact with you. There shall be no enmity for all future time between your family and mine. Go now, and rest in peace, for the fate of Crane is fixed." In the darkness of the night Serpent roused himself from his sleep and, uncoiling himself, descended the tree and glided noiselessly along the ground towards Miss Crane's tree. The tall clean shaft could not arrest those spiring movements, and the Serpent steadily ascended until he gained the fork. Thence, by an almost imperceptible motion, he advanced towards the nest. Poor Miss Crane was fast asleep, dreaming of the fall of Terrapin, while the Serpent folded his extremity around a stout branch and stood up prepared to strike. Quick as one could wink the Serpent flung himself upon the bird-queen, and in a moment she lay crushed and mangled. Then, seizing her body with his jaws, the Serpent slid down the shaft of the tree and sought Terrapin's house, and laid her remains before him. Terrapin was overjoyed, and invited Serpent to share with him the dainty feast which the body of Miss Crane supplied. From that day to this Serpent and Terrapin have remained close friends, and neither has ever been known to break the solemn agreement that was made between them on that day that Terrapin solicited the help of Serpent against the bird-queen. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE LEGEND OF KIBATTI THE LITTLE WHO CONQUERED ALL THE GREAT ANIMALS. I have done my very best to translate this story as closely as possible in order to give the faithful sense of what was said, yet I despair of rendering the little touches and flourishes which Kadu knew so well how to give with voice, gesture, and mobile face. "Friends and freemen," he said, when we were all in listening attitude, "if a son of man knows how to show anger, I need not tell you who are experienced in travel and in the nature of beasts, that the animals of the wilds also know how to show their spite and their passions." The legend of Kibatti runs upon this. On a day ages ago the great animals of the world, consisting of the elephant, the rhinoceros, the buffalo, the lion, the leopard, and hyena, assembled in council in the midst of a forest not far from a village on the frontier of Uganda. The elephant being acknowledged by general consent as the strongest, presided on the occasion. Waving his trunk, and trumpeting to enjoin silence, he said: "Friends, we are gathered together to-day to consider how we may repay in some measure the injuries daily done to us and our kin by the sons of men. Not far from here is situated a village, whence the vicious two-footed animals issue out to make war upon all of us, who possess double the number of feet they have. Without warning of hostility or publishing of cause, they deliberately leave their conical nests, day by day, with fellest intent against any of us whom they may happen to meet during the shining of the sun. Wherefore we are met upon common grounds to devise how we may retaliate upon them the wanton outrages they daily perpetrate upon our unfortunate kind. Personally, I have many injuries to the elephants of my tribe to remember, and which I am not likely to forget. It was only a week ago that a promising child of my sister fell into a deep pit, and was impaled on a short stake set in the bottom of it; and but a few days before my youngest brother fell head-foremost into a horribly deep excavation that was dug, and which was artfully concealed by leaves and grass, whereby none but those, like myself, experienced in their guileful arts, could have escaped. Ye have all, I daresay, been similarly persecuted, and have deep injuries to revenge. I wait to hear what ye propose. Brother Rhinoceros, thou art the next to me in bigness and strength, speak." "Well, brother Elephant and friends, the words we have heard are true. The son of man is, of all creatures that I know, the most wanton in offence against us of the four-footed tribes. Not a day passes but I hear moan and plaint from some sufferer. Not long ago, a cousin, walking quietly through a wood not far from here, caught his foot in a vine that lay across the path, and almost immediately after a hardened and pointed stake was precipitated from above deep into the jointure of the neck with the spine, which killed him instantly, of course. I have, by wonderful good luck, escaped thus far, but it may be my fate to fall to-morrow through some foul practice. Wherefore, I think it were well that we set about doing what we decide to do instanter. I propose that early in the morning, before a glint of sunshine be seen, we set upon the piratical nest and utterly destroy it. I am so loaded with hate of them, that I could dispose of the half of the rascals myself, before they could recover their wits. But if any of ye here has a better plan, I lend my ears to the hearing of it, my heart to the approval of it, and my strength and fury to the doing of it, without further speech. I have spoken." "Now, friend Lion," said the Elephant, turning solemnly to him, "it is thy turn, and say freely what thy wit conceives in this matter. Thy courage we all know, and none of us doubt that thy mind is equal to it." "Truly, friend Elephant, and ye others, the business we are met to consider is pressing. The sons of men are crafty, and their guile is beyond measure. The four-footed tribes have much cause of grievance against me and mine. However, none can accuse me or my family of having taken undue advantage of those whom we meditate striking. We always give loud warning, as you all know, and afterwards strike; for if we did not do this, few of even the strongest would escape our vengeance. But these pestilent, two-footed beasts--by net, trap, falling stake, pit, or noose--are unceasing in their secret malice, and there is no safety in the plain, bush, or rock-fastness against their wiles. For what I and my kin do there is good motive--that of providing meat for ourselves and young; but it passes my wit to discover what the son of man can want with all he destroys. Even our bones--as, for instance, thy long teeth, O Elephant--they carry away with them, and even mine. I have seen the younglings of mankind dangle the teeth of my sister round their necks, and my hide appears to be so precious that the king of the village wears it over his dirty black loins. Thy tribe, O Elephant, have not much cause of complaint against me, and thou, Rhinoceros, it would tax thy memory to accuse me of aught against thy family. Brother Leopard will hold me and mine guiltless of harm to him; so also must my cousin Hyena. Friend Buffalo and our family have sometimes a sharp quarrel, but there is no malice in it, I swear. Whereas the son of man, friends, is the common enemy of us all--it is either our flesh, or our fur, or our hide, or our teeth that he is wanting, and his whole thought is bent upon destruction pure and simple. If ye would follow me, I would glory in leading ye even now against the community, and I give ye my word that few would escape my paw and claw. However, as our object is to destroy all, that none may escape, I agree with my friend Rhinoceros that night-time at its blackest is safest. Wherefore believe me that I am so sharp set for revenge, and I feel so hollow, that nothing but the half of all of them will satisfy my thirst for their blood. I have ended my say." "Now, friend Leopard, thou hadst better follow thy cousin, and we will feel obliged to thee for the benefit of thy advice," said the Elephant. Leopard gave his tail a quick twirl, and licked his chops and spoke: "All that ye, my friends and cousin, have said, I heartily agree and bear witness to. The spite of the son of man towards us is limitless. It is remarkable, too, for its cold-bloodedness and lack of passion. We have our own quarrels in the woods--as ye all know--and they are sharp and quick while they last, but there is no premeditation or malignity in what we do to one another; but Man, to whom we would rather give a wide berth, if possible, pursues each of us as if his existence depended upon the mere slaying, though I observe that he has abundance of fruit, which ought to satisfy any reasonable being of the ape tribe. Wherefore, as I have many sharp reasons for retaliation on him for his countless offences against me and my kin, I gladly attended this council, and I will go as far as any of ye, and further if I can, to return some of this spite on him and his tribe. I propose that night at its darkest is best for our plan. While the human folk are indulging in dreams of slaughter of us, I vote that we turn their dreams into action against themselves. The elephant, and rhinoceros, and buffalo are strong; let each lead his tribe to attack, overturn, and trample down their nests. We, with our families, will range round and slaughter every one that escapes them. Those are my words." "Now, friend Buffalo, what sayest thou?" demanded the Elephant. "Thou art a staunch friend and stout foe. We cannot but listen with respect to such an one as thyself." "Ah, friend Elephant, and ye chiefs of tribes, every sentiment of hostility against the vile and spiteful sons of man that ye have expressed finds an echo in my inwards. If wrong has been done to any here, magnify that wrong tenfold in order that ye may understand the intensity of the hate I bear the remorseless destroyers of my kith and kin. Ask me not how I would slay them, my fury is so great that I am unfit to devise. Do ye the devising, and give the method to me. All I can think of now is the pleasure I shall feel when my horns are warmed in the bodies of the base and treacherous creatures who have murdered wife, brother, sister, and child of mine, besides a countless number of my kindred by lance and line, spear and snare, sword and stake, trick and trap. I will lead my herd into the midst of the vicious community with a joy that only my hate can match. That is all I have to say." "Now, my good friend Hyena. Thou art the only one left whose sentiments are as yet unknown. Speak, and let us hear wisdom from thee in this matter." The Hyena uttered a mocking laugh, and said: "My kind friends and cousins: The night suits me well, for I am in my element then. I may say that I have a large family which is always hungry. It will be a laughing matter to them indeed to hear of your good purpose. It has been long delayed, this signal measure of just vengeance upon those who have outdone in cold cruelty all that generations of the four-footed tribe of the fiercest kind have done. Bird and beast, from the smallest to the greatest, have fallen victims to man's lust for destruction. True, my kind are often indebted to man for bones and refuse, but what we have eaten has been sorely against his good will; and we therefore owe him no gratitude. The young of the human community will be juicy morsels for my tribe, when the signal is given for the attack. With all my heart I say let it be to-night. I have said my say." The Elephant then said: "Friends, chiefs of the most powerful tribes of the forest, let it be to-night, as ye say. Let each go and muster his forces, and let the attack be in the following manner. Half-way betwixt dawn and midnight I will lead my troop from the Uganda side. The Rhinoceros will lead his from the Katonga side. The Buffalo will range his tribe along that side facing Unyoro. Behind my troop the Hyena and his families shall follow to finish those who may be but bruised by our heavy hoofs. Let Leopard place his fellows and kin in rear of the Rhinoceros troop. Lion and his great tribe are needed in rear of Buffalo's forces, for they are apt in their fury to overlook the crafty bipeds. Our object is to make a complete job of it. The sooner we part now, the fitter each will be for the perfect consummation of his long-deferred revenge." It was well past midnight when the four-footed forces were gathered around the doomed village, and, at the shrill trumpet-note of the King Elephant, the several chiefs led their respective troops at the charge. The elephants tore on resistlessly, trampling down the doomed cages of the human folk flat and level with the ground. The rhinoceros and his host pushed on with noses low down, and tossed the human nests as we would kick an empty egg-basket; the buffaloes bellowed in unison, and, closing their eyes, threw themselves upon the huts, and gored everything within reach of their horns. Then the fierce carnivora, all excitement at the prospect of the bloody feast, roared, snarled, and laughed as they tore the mangled victims piecemeal. Ah, poor village, and poor people! In a short time the dreaming souls dreamed no more, but were gone past recall into the regions where dreams are unknown--all excepting one clever boy named Kibatti, and his parents, who survived the calamity. These happened to live in a tiny hut close hidden by a grove of bananas on the edge of the forest, and Kibatti about midnight had been disturbed in his sleep by a pressure on his stomach which woke him, and denied him further sleep. He therefore sat sorrowing over the red embers of his fire, when he heard the hollow tramp of large animals, and pricking his ears, he heard trampling in another direction; whereupon his suspicions that something unusual was about to happen grew on him, so that he woke his parents, and bade them listen to the rumbling sounds that could be heard by such experienced hunters all around them. "Father, come, delay not! make mother rise at once. This night my sleep has been broken as a warning to me that mischief is brewing. Let us ascend the big tree near by and observe." "Child, you are right," said his father, after listening a moment; "the demons of the wilderness are gathered against the village, for human enemies make no such stir as this. We will ascend the great tree at once." Thereupon he drew his wife out. Kibatti wriggled himself through the burrow under the milkweed hedge into the banana-grove, and having gained its deep shadows, raced for the great tree, closely followed by his parents. A large vine hung pendant, and up this vine Kibatti climbed, his mother after him, the old man last. Not a moment too soon, for just then the trumpet-note of the King Elephant was heard, and afterwards such a concert of noises that neither Kibatti nor his aged father had ever heard the like before. In the starlight they saw the huge forms of all kinds of furious animals pass and repass below them; but clinging closely to the shelter of the giant limbs of the tree, they, from their safe perch, witnessed the dreadful ending of their friends and relatives. When he fully realised the catastrophe and its completeness, Kibatti suggested to his parents that they should ascend to the very highest fork, lest they should be observed in the morning, and on climbing up they found a snug hiding-place far above, hidden all round by the thick, fleshy leaves of the tree. There they remained quiet until morning, when the boy's restless curiosity became so strong that he resolved to gratify it. Grasping close a great limb of the tree, he descended as far as the lower fork and looked down. He saw all the huts smashed, and the bones of his tribe white and gleaming, scattered about. The fences were all levelled, but the elephants, under their leader, were re-setting the poles round about. The lions were pacing watchfully around, the rhinoceroses and buffaloes were herded separately, gazing upon the elephants, the leopards were lying down under the trees in scattered groups, the hyenas were crunching bones, for these last never know when they have eaten enough. Kibatti kept his post all day. By night the poles fenced the village round about as before, and in the dusk he saw the gathering together of all the creatures in a circle round the King Elephant, to hear his rumbling voice delivering an harangue to the motley allies. When it was ended the lions roared, the rhinoceroses snorted, the buffaloes bellowed, the hyenas laughed, and the shrill trumpetings of the elephants announced that the meeting was over. What occurred after, Kibatti did not stay to learn, but climbed aloft to give the news to his anxious parents. Said he, "It appears to me, father, that they are going to build the village up again, for they have already fenced it around even better, as I think, than it was before. Those animals have clever leaders, that is certain, but I am not a man-son if Kibatti does not get the better of some of them." "Oh, you are clever, my child, that is true," said the old man. "Whatever you undertake to do, done it is. I have found out that long ago. If wit will get us out of this place of danger, I have a conviction it will be by yours, and not by mine, or by my old woman's." "I do not purpose to leave the tree just yet, father," replied Kibatti. "If we keep quiet, we could not find a safer place than here. The tree is so tall that they cannot hear us talk unless they set their ears to listen at the foot of it, and against all that may happen we must provide ourselves." "Give your confidence to me, boy, and let me judge of your plan," said the father. "Well, my idea is this. To-night they will all start off, some to catch the lesser prey, others to graze and feed. The leaders, of course, will remain behind. I propose, after getting three or four winks of sleep, to go down to the gate and discover how things are. If possible, I will try and get my net-ropes. They will be useful for my purpose. We may trap some game, you know." "I see, I see, my boy. That is a good idea. Shall I help you?" "Not to-night, father, except you keep watch until yonder bright star stands overhead." The old man agreed to keep watch until the star approached the zenith. A little after midnight Kibatti was waked, and having given his father injunctions to go to sleep, he descended. He proceeded straight to his house, and among the wreckage he found his strong nets and their ropes, and his sharp hunting-knife, besides his father's five spears and his own quiver. These weapons he conveyed directly to the tree, and bore them up to the lower fork. This done, he re-descended the tree and crawled away to a bit of marsh-land not far off, where there was a crane's nest which contained some eggs. He took these in his hand, and went around through the bushes to the Unyoro Road. All this had been done very quickly, because, being a hunter, he knew the neighbourhood well, and while watching the animals in the village, his mind had been busy forming his plans. Now when he came to the Unyoro Road, he stood straight up and strode rapidly in the direction of the village which had been that of his tribe. Arriving near it he crawled up to the gate and looked in, then traced the fence all around until he came back to the same gate. Kibatti now stood up and hailed the animals, crying loud, "Hullo, hullo there! Are ye all asleep? Will ye not let a poor benighted stranger in? The night is cold, and I am hungry." King Buffalo, who was on guard, trotted up to the gate, and looking out saw a small boy who was naked, except for a scant robe which depended from his shoulders. "Who art thou?" demanded the buffalo in his gruffest voice. Kibatti answered in the thin voice of a fatherless and starving orphan. "It is I, Kibatti the Little, from Unyoro." "What dost thou want?" "Only a little fire to roast my eggs, and a place to sleep. I am a forest-boy, and live alone in Unyoro. My parents are both dead, and I have no home. If you will give me work I will stay with you; for then I shall have plenty to eat. If not, let me sleep here to-night, and in the morning I will go." "What work canst thou do?" "Not much, but I can fetch water and fuel." "Wait a minute, I will see if our people will let thee in." The buffalo moved away and woke up the rhinoceros, the elephant, the lion, the leopard, and hyena, and told them that there was a little forest-boy seeking a night's lodging. At first the general belief was, that he belonged to the tribe which had owned the village, but the buffalo denied that this boy could have known of the country, as he had come boldly up to the gate from the Unyoro road; besides, was it likely that a small boy, knowing what had happened, would ever have come back when those who had destroyed the village were in possession of it? This last remark settled the matter. King Elephant said, "As thou wilt, Buffalo. Even if the matter were otherwise, a small boy can do no harm. Let him in. We will give him plenty of work." King Buffalo opened the gate and allowed Kibatti to enter, and introduced him to his friends, King Elephant and the rest, all of whom smiled as they saw his slender and small form, the only human amongst them. Buffalo took very kindly to his protege and showed him around, while Kibatti amused him with his innocent unsophisticated prattle, which convinced the kingly bovine that little Kibatti was indeed a wild-wood waif. "And where do you all sleep?" asked Kibatti of Buffalo. "I sleep here, near the gate, King Elephant rests near that big tree. King Lion prefers lying near that great log there, Brother Rhinoceros throws himself down on the edge of the banana-grove, Leopard curls himself near the fence, and Hyena snores stupidly near his pile of bones." After a little while Buffalo lay down near the gate for a little rest. Kibatti stretched himself near him, but not to sleep. His eyes were quite open, and he soon saw Buffalo's nose rest upon the ground and his head sway from side to side. Kibatti then untied a cord, and stealthily passing it round the four legs of the buffalo, drew the other end round the neck in a slip noose without waking him. He then crawled off towards the elephant, and tied his four legs together, gently tightening the slip noose, and fastening the rope three or four times running round, and brought them all together. To the rhinoceros he did the same. He then went out of the gate and brought his bundle of nets. He took one up, fastened one end to the fence, and drawing it lightly like a curtain over the form of the sleeping lion, just hung it on splinters and projections of the fence. In like manner he secured a net over the leopard, and another over the hyena. All this did clever little Kibatti without waking any of them. He then stole out of the gate a second time, and made his way to the tree where his parents were sleeping. "Come, father," he said, "the kings of the herds are trapped and netted. Bring down mother to the lower fork, and come, do you hasten with me with a bundle of spears, two bows, and quivers full of arrows, for we must finish the game before morning." Completely armed with spears and arrows, Kibatti led his father to the gate, and stealthily entered the fenced enclosure, and they stood over the still-sleeping buffalo. Kibatti gave his father a sharp-pointed spear, and gently laying his finger on the vital spot, between neck and head, showed him where to strike. The father lifted his right arm high up, and with one stroke severed the spinal cord. A shiver passed through King Buffalo's body, and he rolled over stone dead. Then Kibatti and his father approached King Lion, who lay lengthways near the log by the fence, with his side exposed. Kibatti pointed to his own left side behind the shoulder-blade, and father and son drew their bows and drove two arrows into Lion's heart, who sprang up and threw himself like a ball into the net, which closed round him taut, and he presently lay still and lifeless. In the same manner father and son despatched Leopard and Hyena. There then only remained Rhinoceros and Elephant. They chose to attack the first-named beast, who was still lying down on his side, unconscious of the tragic fate of his confederates. Kibatti pointed to the enemy's fore-shoulder and touched his father with his finger two inches below the shoulder-blade. His father understood, and launched his spear straight into the body with such force that the blade was buried. King Rhinoceros, feeling the iron in his vitals, snorted and struggled to stand, but in doing so tightened the cords, and fell back rolling half over. Kibatti drew his bow and buried an arrow close to his father's buried spear. Meantime, King Elephant had taken the alarm, and, struggling with his bonds, had capsized himself on the ground. Kibatti gave vent to a war whoop and cried: "Never mind, father, let the rhinoceros die. Let us away to the elephant while he is helpless." They sprang to the prostrate beast, and they shot their arrows first to every vital point exposed, and then launched their spears with such good effect that before long the last of the kings of the beasts had ended his life. Kibatti and his father then flew to where the old woman crouched in the fork of the tree, and taking her with them, they left the ruined village, and sought a home in another district, where, because of the terrible revenge they had taken on the forest lords, they were held by their fellow-creatures all their lives in great esteem. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE PARTNERSHIP OF RABBIT AND ELEPHANT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. In 1876, while we were travelling towards the Albert Edward Nyanza, Sabadu and Bujomba and others of our Waganda escort would join us at our evening fire, and when they found what entertainment was to be had, they readily yielded to the invitation to contribute their share to it. Besides, Sabadu was unequalled in the art of story-telling: he was fluent and humorous, while his mimicry of the characters he described kept everybody's interest on the alert. To the Rabbit of course he gave a wee thin voice, to the Elephant he gave a deep bass, to the Buffalo a hollow mooing. When he attempted the Lion, the veins of his temple and neck were dreadfully distended as he made the effort; but when he mimicked the Dog, one almost expected a little terrier-like dog to trot up to the fire, so perfect was his yaup-yaup. Every one agreed as Sabadu began his story that his manner, even his style of sitting and smoothing his face, the pose of his head, betrayed the man of practice. The following is his story:-- In Willimesi, Uganda, a Rabbit and an Elephant, coming from different directions, met on a road one day, and being old friends, stopped to greet one another, and chat about the weather and the crops, and to exchange opinions on the state of trade. Finally the Rabbit proposed that the Elephant should join him in a partnership to make a little trading expedition to the Watusi shepherds, "because," said he, "I hear there are some good chances to make profit among them. Cloth, I am told, is very scarce there, and I think we might find a good bargain awaiting us." The Elephant was nothing loth, and closed with the offer of his little friend, and a couple of bales of assorted goods were prepared for the journey. They set out on particularly good terms with each other, and Rabbit, who had a good store of experiences, amused the Elephant greatly. By-and-by the pair of friends arrived at a river, and the Elephant, to whom the water was agreeable, stepped in to cross it, but halted on hearing Rabbit exclaim: "Why, Elephant, you surely are not going to cross without me? Are we not partners?" "Of course we are partners, but I did not agree to carry you or your pack. Why don't you step right in? The water is not deep, it scarcely covers my feet." "But, you stupid fellow, can you not see that what will scarcely cover your feet is more than enough to drown me, and I can't swim a bit; and, besides, if I get my fur wet I shall catch the ague, and how ever am I to carry my pack across?" "Well, I cannot help that. It was you who proposed to take the journey, and I thought a wise fellow like you would have known that there were rivers running across the road, and that you knew what to do. If you cannot travel, then good-bye. I cannot stop here all day," and the Elephant walked on across to the other side. "Surly rascal," muttered Rabbit. "All right, my big friend, I will pay you for it some time." Not far off, however, Rabbit found a log, and after placing his pack on it, he paddled himself over, and reached the other bank safely; but to his grief he discovered that his bale had been wetted and damaged. Rabbit wiped the water up as much as possible, and resumed the journey with the Elephant, who had looked carelessly on the efforts of his friend to cross the river. Fortunately for Rabbit, the latter part of the journey did not present such difficulties, and they arrived in due time among the Watusi shepherds. Now at a trade Elephant was not to be compared with Rabbit, for he could not talk so pleasantly as Rabbit, and he was not at all sociable. Rabbit went among the women, and laughed and joked with them, and said so many funny things, that they were delighted with him, and when at last the trade question was cautiously touched upon, a chief's wife was so kind to him, that she gave a mighty fine cow in exchange for his little bale of cloth. Elephant, on the other hand, went among the men, and simply told them that he had come to buy cattle with cloth. The Watusi shepherds, not liking his appearance or his manner, said they had no cattle to sell, but if he cared to have it, they would give a year-old heifer for his bale. Though Elephant's bale was a most weighty one, and many times more valuable than Rabbit's, yet as he was so gruff and ugly, he was at last obliged to be satisfied with the little heifer. Just as they had left the Watusi to begin their return journey, Elephant said to Rabbit, "Now mind, should we meet anyone on the road, and we are asked whose cattle these are, I wish you to oblige me by saying that they are mine, because I should not like people to believe that I am not as good a trader us yourself. They will also be afraid to touch them if they know they belong to me; whereas, if they hear that they belong to you, every fellow will think he has as good a right to them as yourself, and you dare not defend your property." "Very well," replied Rabbit, "I quite understand." In a little while, as Rabbit and Elephant drove their cattle along, they met many people coming from market who stopped and admired them, and said, "Ah, what a fine cow is that! to whom does it belong?" "It belongs to me," answered the thin voice of Rabbit. "The little one belongs to Elephant." "Very fine indeed. A good cow that," replied the people, and passed on. Vexed and annoyed, Elephant cried angrily to Rabbit, "Why did you not answer as I told you? Now mind, do as I tell you at the next meeting with strangers." "Very well," answered Rabbit, "I will try and remember." By-and-by they met another party going home with fowls and palm wine, who, when they came up, said, "Ah that is a fine beast, and in prime order. Whose is it?" "It is mine," quickly replied Rabbit, "and the little scabby heifer belongs to Elephant." This answer enraged Elephant, who said, "What an obstinate little fool you are. Did you not hear me ask you to say it was mine? Now, remember, you are to say so next time, or I leave you to find your own way home, because I know you are a horrible little coward." "Very well, I'll do it next time," replied Rabbit in a meek voice. In a short time they met another crowd, which stopped when opposite to them, and the people said, "Really, that is an exceedingly fine cow. To which of you does it belong?" "It is mine. I bought it from the Watusi," replied Rabbit. The Elephant was so angry this time, that he broke away from Rabbit, and drove his little heifer by another road, and to Lion, and Hyena, and Buffalo, and Leopard, whom he met, he said what a fine fat cow was being driven by cowardly little Rabbit along the other road. He did this out of mere spite, hoping that some one of them would be tempted to take it by force from Rabbit. But Rabbit was wise, and had seen the spite in Elephant's face as he went off, and was sure that he would play him some unkind trick; and, as night was falling and his home was far, and he knew that there were many vagabonds lying in wait to rob poor travellers, he reflected that if his wit failed to save him he would be in great danger. True enough, it was not long before a big blustering lion rose from the side of the road, and cried out, "Hello, you there. Where are you going with that cow? Come, speak out." "Ah, is that you, Lion? I am taking it to Mugassa (the deity), who is about to give a feast to all his friends, and he told me particularly to invite you to share it, if I should meet you." "Eh? What? To Mugassa? Oh, well, I am proud to have met you, Rabbit. As I am not otherwise engaged I will accompany you, because everyone considers it an honour to wait upon Mugassa." They proceeded a little further, and a bouncing buffalo came up and bellowed fiercely. "You, Rabbit, stop," said he. "Where are you taking that cow to?" "I am taking it to Mugassa, don't you know. How would a little fellow like me have the courage to go so far from home if it were not that I am on service for Mugassa? I am charged also to tell you, Buffalo, that if you like to join in the feast Mugassa is about to give, he will be glad to have you as a guest." "Oh, well, that is good news indeed. I will come along now, Rabbit, and am very glad to have met you. How do you do, Lion?" A short distance off the party met a huge rogue elephant, who stood in the middle of the road, and demanded to know where the cow was being taken, in a tone which required a quick answer. "Now, Elephant, get out of the way. This cow is being taken to Mugassa, who will be angry with you if I am delayed. Have you not heard of the feast he is about to give? By the bye, as you are one of the guests, you might as well help me to drive this cow, and let me get on your back, for I am dreadfully tired." "Why, that's grand," said the Elephant, "I shall be delighted to feast with Mugassa, and--come get on my back. I will carry you with pleasure. And, Rabbit," whispered Elephant, as he lifted him by his trunk, "don't forget to speak a good word for me to Mugassa." Soon a leopard and then a hyena were met, but seeing such a powerful crowd behind the cow, they affected great civility, and were invited to accompany Rabbit's party to Mugassa's feast. It was quite dark by the time they arrived at Rabbit's village. At the gate stood two dogs, who were Rabbit's chums, and they barked furiously; but hearing their friend's voice, they came up and welcomed Rabbit. The party halted, and Rabbit, after reaching the ground, whispered to Dogs how affairs stood, and Dogs wagged their tails approvingly, and yauped with fun as they heard of Rabbit's wit. It did not take long for Dogs to understand what was required of them, and one of them bounded off to the village, and after a short time returned with a pretended message from the great Mugassa. "Well, my friends, do you hear what Mugassa says?" cried Rabbit, with a voice of importance. "Dogs are to lay mats inside the village by the gate, and the cow is to be killed, and the meat prepared nicely and laid on the mats. And when that is done, Mugassa himself will come and give each his portion. He says that you are all very welcome. "Now listen to me before I go in to Mugassa, and I will show you how you can all help to hurry the feast, for I am sure you are all anxious to begin. "You, Hyena, you must kill the cow, and dress the meat, and Dogs will carry it in and lay it on the mats; but remember, if a bit is touched before Mugassa commands, we are all ruined. "You, Elephant, you take this brass hatchet of Mugassa's, and split wood nicely for the hearth. "Buffalo, you go and find a wood with a smooth bark and which burns well, and bring it to Elephant. "Leopard, you go to the banana plantation, and watch for the falling leaf and catch it with your eyelids, in order that we may have proper plates. "Lion, my friend, do you go and fill this pot from the spring, and bring water that Mugassa may wash his hands." Having issued his instructions, Rabbit went strutting into the village; but after he had gone a little way he darted aside, and passing through a side door, went out and came creeping up towards an ant-hill. On the top was a tuft of grass, and from his hiding-place he commanded a view of the gate, and of all who might come near it. Now Buffalo could only find one log with smooth bark, and Dogs shouted out to Buffalo that one log was not enough to roast or to boil the meat, and he returned to hunt up some more. Elephant struck the log with his brass hatchet, which was broken at the first blow, and there was nothing else with which to cut the wood. Leopard watched and watched for falling leaves, but failed to see any. Lion's pot had a hole in the bottom, and he could never keep it full, though he tried ever so many times. Meanwhile Hyena having killed the cow and dressed the meat beautifully, said to Dogs, "Now, my friends, the meat is ready. What shall I do?" "You can help us carry the meat in, and lay it on the mats, if you like, for Mugassa must see it before anybody can touch it." "Ah, but I feel extremely hungry, and my mouth waters so that I am sick with longing. May we not go shares and eat a little bit? It looks very nice and fat," whined the Hyena. "Ah, no, we should not dare do such a thing. We have long ago left the woods, and its habits, and are unfit for anything but human society; but if you were allowed to eat any, you could fly into the woods, and we should have all the blame. No, no, come, help us carry it inside. You will not have to wait long." The Hyena was obliged to obey, but contrived to hide in the grass some of the tripe. Rabbit, from behind his tuft of grass, saw it all, and winked in the dark. When the meat was in, Dogs said, "It is all right now. Just stay outside until the other fellows arrive." Hyena retired, and when he was outside of the gate searched for his tripe, and lay down quietly to enjoy it, but as he was about to bite it, Rabbit screamed, "Ah, you thief, Hyena. You thief, I see you. Stop thief, Mugassa is coming." These cries so alarmed Hyena that he dropped his tripe, and fled away as fast as his legs could carry him, and the others, Buffalo, Elephant, Lion, and Leopard, tired out with waiting, and hearing these alarming cries, also ran away, leaving Rabbit and his dog friends in quiet possession. They carried the tripe into the village, and closed the gate and barred it, after which they laughed loud and long, Rabbit rolling on the ground over and over with the fun of it all. My friends, Rabbit was the smallest of all, but by his wisdom he was more than a match for two Elephants, Buffalo, Leopard, Lion, Hyena, and all. And even his friends, the Dogs, had to confess that Rabbit's wit could not be matched. That is my tale. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. THE ADVENTURES OF SARUTI. "I have a poor memory for legends," said Bujomba, one night, while we were in camp at Benga: "but I remember what a young Mtongole (colonel) named Saruti related to Mtesa after his return from an expedition to the frontier of Unyoro. What a head that man had, and such eyes! Mtesa was ever fond of a good story, and loved to question those whom he sent to distant countries, until you might say that there was nothing left in a man worth hearing after he had done with him. But Saruti did not need any questioning. He talked on and on without stopping, until Mtesa could not sit up longer for sheer weariness. These are among the things he said that he had witnessed on his journey. You must not ask me if I believe all that he said. All I can say is that they might have happened, or been seen by many men, but I never could quite understand how it was that Saruti alone was so lucky as to see all the things he talked about. Anyhow, he was very amusing, and Mtesa laughed heartily many times as he listened to him." Kabaka, I think my charms which my father suspended round my neck must be very powerful. I am always in luck. I hear good stones on my journey, I see strange things which no one else seems to have come across. Now on this last journey, by the time I reached Singo, I came to a little village, and as I was drinking banana wine with the chief, he told me that there were two lions near his village who had a band of hyenas to serve as soldiers under them. They used to send them out in pairs, sometimes to one district, and sometimes to another, to purvey food for them. If the peasants showed fight, they went back and reported to their masters, and the lions brought all their soldiers with them, who bothered them so that they were glad to leave a fat bullock tied to a tree as tribute. Then the lions would take the bullock and give orders that the peasant who paid his tribute should be left in peace. The chief declared this to be a fact, having had repeated proof of it. At the next place, which is Mbagwe, the man Buvaiya, who is in charge, told me that when he went a short time before to pay his respects to the Muzimu (the oracle) of the district, he met about thirty _kokorwa_ on the road, hunting close together for snakes, and that as soon as they saw him, they charged at him, and would have killed him had he not run up a tree. He tells me that though they are not much bigger than rabbits, they are very savage, and make travelling alone very dangerous. I think they must be some kind of small dogs. Perhaps the old men of the court may be better able to tell you what they are. At the next village of Ngondo a smart boy named Rutuana was brought to me, who was said to have been lately playing with a young friend of the same age at long stick and little stick (tip-cat?). His friend hit the little stick, and sent it a great way, and Rutuana had to fetch it from the long grass. While searching for it, one of those big serpents which swallow goats and calves caught him, and coiled itself around him. Though he screamed out for help, Rutuana laid his stick across his chest, and clutching hold of each end with a hand, held fast to it until help came. His friend ran up a tree, and only helped him by screaming. As the serpent could not break the boy's hold of the stick, he was unable to crush his ribs, because his outstretched arms protected them; but when he was nearly exhausted the villagers came out with spears and shields. These fellows, however, were so stupid that they did not know how to kill the serpent until Rutuana shouted to them: "Quick! draw your bows and shoot him through the neck." A man stepped forward then, and when close to him pierced his throat with the arrow, and as the serpent uncoiled himself to attack the men, Rutuana fell down. The serpent was soon speared, and the boy was carried home. I think that boy will become a great warrior. At the next village the peasants were much disturbed by a multitude of snakes which had collected there for some reason. They had seen several long black snakes which had taken lodging in the anthills. These had already killed five cows, and lately had taken to attacking the travellers along the road that leads by the anthills, when an Arab, named Massoudi, hearing of their trouble, undertook to kill them. He had some slaves with him, and he clothed their legs with buffalo hide, and placed cooking-pots on their heads, and told them to go among the anthills. When the snakes came out of their holes he shot them one by one. Among the reptiles he killed were three kinds of serpents which possessed horns. The peasants skinned them, and made bags of them to preserve their charms. One kind of horned snake, very thick and short, is said to lay eggs as large as those of fowls. The _mubarasassa_, which is of a greyish colour, is also said to be able to kill elephants. I then went to Kyengi, beyond Singo, and the peasants, on coming to gossip with me, rather upset me with terrible stories of the mischief done by a big black leopard. It seems that he had first killed a woman, and had carried the body into the bush; and another time had killed two men while they were setting their nets for some small ground game. Then a native hunter, under promise of reward from the chief, set out with two spears to kill him. He did not succeed, but he said that he saw a strange sight. As he was following the track of the leopard, he suddenly came to a little jungle, with an open space in the middle. A large wild sow, followed by her litter of little pigs, was rooting about, and grunting as pigs do, when he saw the monstrous black leopard crawl towards one of the pigs. Then there was a shrill squeal from a piggie, and the mother, looking up, discovered its danger, at which it furiously charged the leopard, clashing her tusks and foaming at the mouth. The leopard turned sharp round, and sprang up a tree. The sow tried to jump up after it, but being unable to reach her enemy in that way, she set about working hard at the roots. While she was busy about it the peasant ran back to obtain a net and assistants, and to get his hunting-dog. When he returned, the sow was still digging away at the bottom of the tree, and had made a great hole all round it. The pigs, frightened at seeing so many men, trotted away into the bush, and the hunter and his friends prepared to catch the leopard. They pegged the net all about the tree, then let loose the dog, and urged him towards the net. As he touched the net, the hunters made a great noise, and shouted, at which the leopard bounded from the tree, and with one scratch of his paw ripped the dog open, sprang over the net, tapped one of the men on the shoulder, and was running away, when he received a wound in the shoulder, and stopped to bite the spear. The hunters continued to worry him, until at last, covered with blood, he lay down and died. One day's journey beyond Kyengi, I came to the thorn-fenced village of some Watusi shepherds, who, it seems, had suffered much from a pair of lion cubs, which were very fierce. The headman's little boy was looking after some calves when the cubs came and quietly stalked him through the grass, and caught him. The headman took it so much to heart, that as soon as he heard the news he went straight back to his village and hanged himself to a rafter. The Watusi love their families very much, but it seems to be a custom with these herdsmen that if a man takes his own life, the body cannot be buried, and though he was a headman, they carried it to the jungle, and after leaving it for the vultures, they returned and set fire to his hut, and burnt it to the ground. When they had done that, the Watusi collected together and had a long hunt after the young lions, but as yet they have not been able to find them. When the sun was half-way up the sky, I came from Kyengi to some peasants, who lived near a forest which is affected by the man-monkeys called nzike (gorilla?). I was told by them that the nzike know how to smoke and make fire just as we do. It is a custom among the natives, when they see smoke issuing through the trees, for them to say, "Behold, the nzike is cooking his food." I asked them if it were true that the nzike carried off women to live with them, but they all told me that it was untrue, though the old men sometimes tell such stories to frighten the women, and keep them at home out of danger. Knowing that I was on the king's business, they did not dare tell me their fables. By asking them all sorts of questions, I was shown to a very old man with a white beard, with whom I obtained much amusement. It appears he is a great man at riddles, and he asked me a great many. One was, "What is it that always goes straight ahead, and never looks back?" I tried hard to answer him, but when finally he announced that it was a river, I felt very foolish. He then asked me, "What is it that is bone outside and meat within?" The people laughed, and mocked me. Then he said that it was an egg, which was very true. Another question he gave me was, "What is it that looks both ways when you pass it?" Some said one thing, and some said another, and at last he answered that it was grass. Then he asked me, "What good thing was it which a man eats, and which he constantly fastens his eyes upon while he eats, and after eating, throws a half away?" I thought and considered, but I never knew what it was until he told me that it was a roasted ear of Indian corn. That old man was a very wise one, and among some of his sayings was that "When people dream much, the old moon must be dying." He also said that "When the old moon is dying, the hunter need never leave home to seek game, because it is well known that he would meet nothing." And he further added, that at that time the potter need not try to bake any pots, because the clay would be sure to be rotten. Some other things which he said made me think a little of their meaning. He said, "When people have provisions in their huts, they do not say, Let us go into another man's house and rob him." He also said, "When you see a crook-back, you do not ask him to stand straight, nor an old man to join the dance, nor the man who is in pain, to laugh." And what he said about the traveller is very true. The man who clings to his own hearth does not tickle our ears, like him who sees many lands, and hears new stories. The next day I stopped at a village near the little lake of Kitesa's called Mtukura. The chief in charge loved talking so much, that he soon made me as well acquainted with the affairs of his family as though he courted my sister. His people are accustomed to eat frogs and rats, and from the noise in the reeds, and the rustling and squealings in the roof of the hut I slept in, I think there is little fear of famine in that village. Nor are they averse, they tell me, to iguanas and those vile feeders, the hyenas. It is a common belief in the country that it was Naraki, a wife of Uni, a sultan of Unyoro, who made that lake. While passing through, she was very thirsty, and cried out to her Muzimu (spirit), the Muzimu which attends the kings of Unyoro, and which is most potent. And all at once there was a hissing flight of firestones (meteorites) in the air, and immediately after, there was a fall of a monstrously large one, which struck the ground close to her, and made a great hole, out of which the water spurted and continued leaping up until a lake was formed, and buried the fountain out of sight, and the rising waters formed a river, which has run north from the lake ever since into the Kafu. Close by this lake is a dark grove, sacred to Muzingeh, the king of the birds. It is said that he has only one eye, but once a year he visits the grove, and after building his house, he commands all the birds from the Nyanzas and the groves, to come and see him and pay their homage. For half a moon the birds, great and small, may be seen following him about along the shores of the lake, like so many guards around a king; and before night they are seen returning in the same manner to the grove. The parrots' cries tell the natives when they come, and no one would care to miss the sight, and the glad excitement among the feathered tribe. But there is one bird, called the Kirurumu, that refuses to acknowledge the sovereignty of the Muzingeh. The other birds have tried often to induce him to associate with the Muzingeh; but Kirurumu always answers that a beautiful creature like himself, with gold and blue feathers, and such a pretty crest, was never meant to be seen in the company of an ugly bird that possesses only one eye. On the other side of Lake Mtukura is a forest where Dungu, the king of the animals, lives. It is to Dungu that all the hunters pray when they set out to seek for game. He builds first a small hut, and after propitiating him with a small piece of flesh, he asks Dungu that he may be successful. Then Dungu enters into the hunter's head, if he is pleased with the offering, and the cunning of the man becomes great; his nerves stiffen, and his bowels are strengthened, and the game is secured. When Dungu wishes a man to succeed in the hunt, it is useless for the buffalo to spurn the earth and moo, or for the leopard to cover himself with sand in his rage--the spear of the hunter drinks his blood. But the hunter must not forget to pay the tribute to the deity, lest he be killed on the way home. The friendly chief insisted that I should become his blood-fellow, and stay with him a couple of days. The witch-doctor, a man of great influence in the country, was asked to unite us. He took a sharp little knife, and made a gash in the skin of my right leg, just above the knee, and did the same to the chief, and then rubbed his blood over my wound, and my blood over his, and we became brothers. Among his gifts was this beautiful shield, which I beg Mtesa, my Kabaka, to accept, because I have seen none so beautiful, and it is too good for a colonel whose only hope and wish is to serve his king. I am glad that I rested there, because I saw a most wonderful sight towards evening. As we were seated under the bananas, we heard a big he-goat's bleat, and by the sound of it we knew that it was neither for fun nor for love. It was a tone of anger and fear. Almost at the same time, one of the boys rushed up to us, and his face had really turned grey from fear, and he cried, "There is a lion in the goat-pen, and the big he-goat is fighting with him." They had forgotten to tell me about this famous goat, which was called Kasuju, after some great man who had been renowned in war, and he certainly was worth speaking about, and Kasuju was well known round about for his wonderful strength and fighting qualities. When we got near the pen with our spears and shields, the he-goat was butting the lion--who was young, for he had no mane--as he might have butted a pert young nanny-goat, and baaing with as full a note as that of a buffalo calf. It appears that Kasuju saw the destroyer creeping towards one of his wives, and dashing at his flank knocked him down. As we looked on from the outside, we saw that Kasuju was holding his own very well, and we thought that we would not check the fight, but prepare ourselves to have a good cast at the lion as he attempted to leave. The lion was getting roused up, and we saw the spring he made: but Kasuju nimbly stepped aside and gave him such a stroke that it sounded like a drum. Then Kasuju trotted away in front of his trembling wives, and as the lion came up, we watched him draw his ears back as he raised himself on his hind feet like a warrior. The lion advanced to him, and he likewise rose as though he would wrestle with him, when Kasuju shot into his throat with so true and fair a stroke, that drove one of his horns deep into the throat. It was then the lion's claws began to work, and with every scratch poor Kasuju's hide was torn dreadfully, but he kept his horn in the wound, and pushed home, and made the wound large. Then the lion sprang free, and the blood spurted all over Kasuju. Blinded with his torn and hanging scalp, and weakened with his wounds, he staggered about, pounding blindly at his enemy, until the lion gave him one mighty stroke with its paw, and sent him headlong, and then seized him by the neck and shook him, and we heard the cruel crunch as the fangs met. But it was the last effort of the lion, for just as Kasuju was lifeless, the lion rolled over him, dead also. Had my friend told me this story, I should not have believed him, but as I saw it with my own eyes, I am bound to believe it. We buried Kasuju honourably in a grave, as we would bury a brave man; but the lion we skinned, and I have got his fur with the ragged hole in the throat. The singular fight we had witnessed, furnished us all with much matter for talk about lions, and it brought into the mind of one of them a story of a crocodile and lion fight which had happened some time before in the night. Lake Mtukura swarms with crocodiles, and situated as it is in a region of game they must be fat with prey. One night a full-grown lion with a fine mane came to cool his dry throat in the lake, and was quaffing water, when he felt his nose seized by something that rose up from below. From the traces of the struggle by the water's edge, it must have been a terrible one. The crocodile's long claws had left deep marks, showing how he must have been lifted out of the water, and flung forcibly down; but in the morning both lion and crocodile were found dead, the crocodile's throat wide open with a broad gash, but his teeth still fastened in the lion's nose. Saruti had not half finished his stories when he felt, by seeing Mtesa yawn, that though his adventures were very interesting, and he was quite ready to continue, yet it would be to his advantage to dock his tongue for the time being. So he said, "Kabaka, the wise old man whom I met, told me one thing I had nearly forgotten to say. He said, `I know you are a servant of the king, and if ever you want the king's face to soften to you and his hand to open with gifts, compare yourself to the lid of a cooking-pot, which, though the pot may be full of fragrant stew, receives naught but the vapour, and the king who is wise will understand and will be pleased with his servant.'" "Very well said indeed, Saruti," cried Mtesa, laughing. "I understand. The lid must share with the pot this time. Steward," he said, turning to Kauta, "see that six head of cattle be driven to Saruti's cattle-pen;" and Saruti twiyanzied (thanked with prostrations) so often that his head swam. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. THE BOY KINNENEH AND THE GORILLA. It is in such stories as the Fable of the Rabbit, the Leopard and the Goat, the Dog and the little Chicken, the Leopard, the Sheep and the Dove, the Crane, the Leopard and the Sheep, the Rabbit and the Lion, the Cow and the Lion, the Lion and his mane, the Rabbit and the Leopard, and the boy Kinneneh and the Gorilla, that Kadu, our accomplished relator of legends, shone. It is not with a wish to be unkind to Kadu that I say he showed only too well that according to him cunning was to be preferred to strength. Perhaps he was right, though cunning is a word in much discredit with us nowadays, because we are accustomed to ally it with deception and fraud, but we will put the best possible construction on it out of admiration for and gratitude to Kadu, and claim that his cunning, which was the moral of most of his stories, was a kind of illegitimate wisdom, or a permissible artfulness. None of us, at least, but sympathised with Kadu's dumb heroes when, by a little pleasant cheat or sly stratagem, the bullying buffalo got the worst of an encounter with the sharp-witted rabbit, or when the dog got the better of his sour mistress the leopardess, or when rabbit put to shame the surly elephant, or when Kibatti conquered the kings of the animal tribes. The legend of Kinneneh and the Gorilla was another story which evidently was meant by Kadu and the unknown ancient of Uganda who invented it to illustrate that cunning is mightier than strength. He told it in this wise: In the early days of Uganda, there was a small village situate on the other side of the Katonga, in Buddu, and its people had planted bananas and plantains which in time grew to be quite a large grove, and produced abundant and very fine fruit. From a grove of bananas when its fruit is ripe there comes a very pleasant odour, and when a puff of wind blows over it, and bears the fragrance towards you, I know of nothing so well calculated to excite the appetite, unless it be the smell of roasted meat. Anyhow, such must have been the feeling of a mighty big gorilla, who one day, while roaming about alone in the woods searching for nuts to eat, stopped suddenly and stood up and sniffed for some time, with his nose well out in the direction of the village. After awhile he shook his head and fell on all fours again to resume his search for food. Again there came with a whiff of wind a strong smell of ripe bananas, and he stood on his feet once more, and with his nose shot out thus he drew in a greedy breath and then struck himself over the stomach, and said: "I thought it was so. There are bananas that way, and I must get some." Down he fell on all fours, and put out his arms with long stretches, just as a fisherman draws in a heavy net, and is eager to prevent the escape of the fish. In a little while he came to the edge of the grove, and stood and looked gloatingly on the beautiful fruit hanging in great bunches. Presently he saw something move. It was a woman bent double over a basket, and packing the fruit neatly in it, so that she could carry a large quantity at one journey. The gorilla did not stay long thinking, but crawled up secretly to her; and then with open arms rushed forward and seized her. Before the woman could utter her alarm he had lifted her and her basket and trotted away with them into the deepest bush. On reaching his den he flung the woman on the ground, as you would fling dead meat, and bringing the banana basket close to him, his two legs hugging it close to his round paunch, he began to gorge himself, muttering while he peeled the fruit strange sounds. By-and-by the woman came to her senses, but instead of keeping quiet, she screamed and tried to run away. If it were not for that movement and noise, she perhaps might have been able to creep away unseen, but animals of all kinds never like to be disturbed while eating, so Gorilla gave one roar of rage, and gave her such a squeeze that the breath was clean driven out of her. When she was still he fell to again, and tore the peeling off the bananas, and tossed one after another down his wide throat, until there was not one of the fruit left in the basket, and the big paunch was swollen to twice its first size. Then, after laying his paw on the body to see if there was any life left in it, he climbed up to his nest above, and curled himself into a ball for a sleep. When he woke he shook himself and yawned, and looking below he saw the body of the woman, and her empty basket, and he remembered what had happened. He descended the tree, lifted the body and let it fall, then took up the basket, looked inside and outside of it, raked over the peelings of the bananas, but could not find anything left to eat. He began to think, scratching the fur on his head, on his sides, and his paunch, picking up one thing and then another in an absent-minded way. And then he appeared to have made up a plan. Whatever it was, this is what he did. It was still early morning, and as there was no sign of a sun, it was cold, and human beings must have been finishing their last sleep. He got up and went straight for the plantation. On the edge of the banana-grove he heard a cock crow; he stopped and listened to it; he became angry. "Some one," he said to himself, "is stealing my bananas," and with that he marched in the direction where the cock was crowing. He came to the open place in front of the village, and saw several tall houses much larger than his own nest; and while he was looking at them, the door of one of them was opened, and a man came out. He crept towards him, and before he could cry out the gorilla had squeezed him until his ribs had cracked, and he was dead; he flung him down, and entered into the hut. He there saw a woman, who was blowing a fire on the hearth, and he took hold of her and squeezed her until there was no life left in her body. There were three children inside, and a bed on the floor. He treated them also in the same way, and they were all dead. Then he went into another house, and slew all the people in it, one with a squeeze, another with a squeeze and a bite with his great teeth, and there was not one left alive. In this way he entered into five houses and killed all the people in them, but in the sixth house lived the boy Kinneneh and his old mother. Kinneneh had fancied that he heard an unusual sound, and he had stood inside with his eyes close to a chink in the reed door for some time when he saw something that resembled what might be said to be half animal and half man. He walked like a man, but had the fur of a beast. His arms were long, and his body was twice the breadth and thickness of a full-grown man. He did not know what it was, and when he saw it go into his neighbours' houses, and heard those strange sounds, he grew afraid, and turned and woke his mother, saying, "Mother, wake up! there is a strange big beast in our village killing our people. So wake up quickly and follow me." "But whither shall we fly, my son?" she whispered anxiously. "Up to the loft, and lie low in the darkest place," replied Kinneneh, and he set her the example and assisted his mother. Now those Uganda houses are not low-roofed like these of Congo-land, but are very high, as high as a tree, and they rise to a point, and near the top there is a loft where we stow our nets, and pots, and where our spear-shafts and bows are kept to season, and where our corn is kept to dry, and green bananas are stored to ripen. It was in this dark lofty place that Kinneneh hid himself and his mother, and waited in silence. In a short time the gorilla put his head into their house and listened, and stepping inside he stood awhile, and looked searchingly around. He could see no one and heard nothing stir. He peered under the bed-grass, into the black pots and baskets, but there was no living being to be found. "Ha, ha," he cried, thumping his chest like a man when he has got the big head. "I am the boss of this place now, and the tallest of these human nests shall be my own, and I shall feast every day on ripe bananas and plantains, and there is no one who can molest me--ha, ha!" "Ha, ha!" echoed a shrill, piping voice after his great bass. The gorilla looked around once more, among the pots, and the baskets, but finding nothing walked out. Kinneneh, after awhile skipped down the ladder and watched between the open cane-work of the door, and saw him enter the banana-grove, and waited there until he returned with a mighty load of the fruit. He then saw him go out again into the grove, and bidding his mother lie still and patient, Kinneneh slipped out and ascended into the loft of the house chosen by the gorilla for his nest, where he hid himself and waited. Presently the gorilla returned with another load of the fruit, and, squatting on his haunches, commenced to peel the fruit, and fill his throat and mouth with it, mumbling and chuckling, and saying, "Ha, ha! This is grand! Plenty of bananas to eat, and all--all my own. None to say, `Give me some,' but all my very own. Ho, ho! I shall feast every day. Ha, ha!" "Ha, ha," echoed the piping voice again. The gorilla stopped eating and made an ugly frown as he listened. Then he said: "That is the second time I have heard a thin voice saying, `Ha, ha!' If I only knew who he was that cried `Ha, ha!' I would squeeze him, and squeeze him until he cried, `Ugh, ugh!'" "Ugh, ugh!" echoed the little voice again. The gorilla leaped to his feet and rummaged around the pots and the baskets, took hold of the bodies one after another and dashed them against the floor, then went to every house and searched, but could not discover who it was that mocked him. In a short time he returned and ate a pile of bananas that would have satisfied twenty men, and afterwards he went out, saying to himself that it would be a good thing to fill the nest with food, as it was a bore to leave the warm nest each time he felt a desire to eat. No sooner had he departed than Kinneneh slipped down, and carried every bunch that had been left away to his own house, where they were stowed in the loft for his mother, and after enjoining his mother to remain still, he waited, peering through the chinks of the door. He soon saw Gorilla bearing a pile of bunches that would have required ten men to carry, and after flinging them into the chief's house, return to the plantation for another supply. While Gorilla was tearing down the plants and plucking at the bunches, Kinneneh was actively engaged in transferring what he brought into the loft by his mother's side. Gorilla made many trips in this manner, and brought in great heaps, but somehow his stock appeared to be very small. At last his strength was exhausted, and feeling that he could do no more that day, he commenced to feed on what he had last brought, promising to himself that he would do better in the morning. At dawn the gorilla hastened out to obtain a supply of fruit for his breakfast, and Kinneneh took advantage of his absence to hide himself overhead. He was not long in his place before Gorilla came in with a huge lot of ripe fruit, and after making himself comfortable on his haunches with a great bunch before him he rocked himself to and fro, saying while he munched: "Ha, ha! Now I have plenty again, and I shall eat it all myself. Ha, ha!" "Ha, ha," echoed a thin voice again, so close and clear it seemed to him, that leaping up he made sure to catch it. As there appeared to be no one in the house, he rushed out raging, champing his teeth, and searched the other houses, but meantime Kinneneh carried the bananas to the loft of the gorilla's house, and covered them with bark-cloth. In a short time Gorilla returned furious and disappointed, and sat down to finish the breakfast he had only begun, but on putting out his hands he found only the withered peelings of yesterday's bananas. He looked and rummaged about, but there was positively nothing left to eat. He was now terribly hungry and angry, and he bounded out to obtain another supply, which he brought in and flung on the floor, saying, "Ha, ha! I will now eat the whole at once--all to myself, and that other thing which says, `Ha, ha!' after me, I will hunt and mash him like this," and he seized a ripe banana and squeezed it with his paw with so much force that the pulp was squirted all over him. "Ha, ha!" he cried. "Ha, ha!" mocked the shrill voice, so clear that it appeared to come from behind his ear. This was too much to bear; Gorilla bounded up and vented a roar of rage. He tossed the pots, the baskets, the bodies, and bed-grass about-- bellowing so loudly and funnily in his fury that Kinneneh, away up in the loft, could scarcely forbear imitating him. But the mocker could not be found, and Gorilla roared loudly in the open place before the village, and tore in and out of each house, looking for him. Kinneneh descended swiftly from his hiding-place, and bore every banana into the loft as before. Gorilla hastened to the plantation again, and so angry was he that he uprooted the banana-stalks by the root, and snapped off the clusters with one stroke of his great dog-teeth, and having got together a large stock, he bore it in his arms to the house. "There," said he, "ha, ha! Now I shall eat in comfort and have a long sleep afterwards, and if that fellow who mocks me comes near--ah! I would"--and he crushed a big bunch in his arms and cried, "ha, ha!" "Ha, ha! Ha, ha!" cried the mocking voice; and again it seemed to be at the back of his head. Whereupon Gorilla flung his arms behind in the hope of catching him, but there was nothing but his own back, which sounded like a damp drum with the stroke. "Ha, ha! Ha, ha!" repeated the voice, at which Gorilla shot out of the door, and raced round the house, thinking that the owner was flying before him, but he never could overtake the flyer. Then he went around outside of the other houses, and flew round and round the village, but he could discover naught. But meanwhile Kinneneh had borne all the stock of bananas up into the loft above, and when Gorilla returned there was not one banana of all the great pile he had brought left on the floor. When, after he was certain that there was not a single bit of a banana left for him to eat, he scratched his sides and his legs, and putting his hand on the top of his head, he uttered a great cry just like a great, stupid child, but the crying did not fill his tummy. No, he must have bananas for that--and he rose up after awhile and went to procure some more fruit. But when he had brought a great pile of it and had sat down with his nice-smelling bunch before him, he would exclaim, "Ha, ha! Now--now I shall eat and be satisfied. I shall fill myself with the sweet fruit, and then lie down and sleep. Ha, ha!" Then instantly the mocking voice would cry out after him, "Ha, ha!" and sometimes it sounded close to his ears, and then behind his head, sometimes it appeared to come from under the bananas and sometimes from the doorway:--that Gorilla would roar in fury, and he would grind his teeth just like two grinding-stones, and chatter to himself, and race about the village, trying to discover whence the voice came, but in his absence the fruit would be swept away by his invisible enemy, and when he would come in to finish his meal, lo! there were only blackened and stained banana peelings--the refuse of his first feast. Gorilla would then cry like a whipped child, and would go again into the plantation, to bring some more fruit into the house, but when he returned with it he would always boast of what he was going to do, and cry out "Ha, ha!" and instantly his unseen enemy would mock him and cry "Ha, ha!" and he would start up raving and screaming in rage, and search for him, and in his absence his bananas would be whisked away. And Gorilla's hunger grew on him, until his paunch became like an empty sack, and what with his hunger and grief and rage, and furious raving and racing about, his strength was at last quite exhausted, and the end of him was that on the fifth day he fell from weakness across the threshold of the chief's house, which he had chosen to make his nest, and there died. When the people of the next village heard of how Kinneneh, a little boy, had conquered the man-killing gorilla, they brought him and his mother away, and they gave him a fine new house and a plantation, and male and female slaves to tend it, and when their old king died, and the period of mourning for him was over, they elected wise Kinneneh to be king over them. "Ah, friends," said Safeni to his companions, after Kadu had concluded his story, "there is no doubt that the cunning of a son of man prevails over the strongest brute, and it is well for us, Mashallah! that it should be so; for if the elephant, or the lion, or the gorilla possessed but cunning equal to their strength, what would become of us!" And each man retired to his hut, congratulating himself that he was born a man-child, and not a thick, muddle-headed beast. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. THE CITY OF THE ELEPHANTS. "Master," said Kassim, one of the Basoko boys, "Baruti's tales have brought back from among forgotten things a legend I once knew very well. Ah, I wish I could remember more, but little by little the stories that I used to hear in my childhood from my mother and the old woman who would come and sit with her, will perhaps return again into the mind. I should never have thought of this that I am about to repeat to you now had it not been that Baruti's legends seem to recall as though they were but yesterday the days that came and went uncounted in our Basoko village. This legend is about the City of the Elephants that one of my countrymen and his wife came across in the far past time, in the manner that I shall tell you." A Bungandu man named Dudu, and his wife Salimba, were one day seeking in the forest a long way from the town for a proper redwood-tree, out of which they could make a wooden mortar wherein they could pound their manioc. They saw several trees of this kind as they proceeded, but after examining one, and then another, they would appear to be dissatisfied, and say, "Perhaps if we went a little further we might find a still better tree for our purpose." And so Dudu and Salimba proceeded further and further into the tall and thick woods, and ever before them there appeared to be still finer trees which would after all be unsuited for their purpose, being too soft, or too hard, or hollow, or too old, or of another kind than the useful redwood. They strayed in this manner very far. In the forest where there is no path or track, it is not easy to tell which direction one came from, and as they had walked round many trees, they were too confused to know which way they ought to turn homeward. When Dudu said he was sure that his course was the right one for home, Salimba was as sure that the opposite was the true way. They agreed to walk in the direction Dudu wished, and after a long time spent on it, they gave it up and tried another, but neither took them any nearer home. The night overtook them and they slept at the foot of a tree. The next day they wandered still farther from their town, and they became anxious and hungry. As one cannot see many yards off on any side in the forest, an animal hears the coming step long before the hunter gets a chance to use his weapon. Therefore, though they heard the rustle of the flying antelope, or wild pig as it rushed away, it only served to make their anxiety greater. And the second day passed, and when night came upon them they were still hungrier. Towards the middle of the third day, they came into an open place by a pool frequented by Kiboko (hippo), and there was a margin of grass round about it, and as they came in view of it, both, at the same time, sighted a grazing buffalo. Dudu bade his wife stand behind a tree while he chose two of his best and sharpest arrows, and after a careful look at his bow-string, he crept up to the buffalo, and drove an arrow home as far as the guiding leaf, which nearly buried it in the body. While the beast looked around and started from the twinge within, Dudu shot his second arrow into his windpipe, and it fell to the ground quite choked. Now here was water to drink and food to eat, and after cutting a load of meat they chose a thick bush-clump a little distance from the pool, made a fire, and, after satisfying their hunger, slept in content. The fourth day they stopped and roasted a meat provision that would last many days, because they knew that luck is not constant in the woods. On the fifth they travelled, and for three days more they wandered. They then met a young lion who, at the sight of them, boldly advanced, but Dudu sighted his bow, and sent an arrow into his chest which sickened him of the fight, and he turned and fled. A few days afterwards, Dudu saw an elephant standing close to them behind a high bush, and whispered to his wife: "Ah, now, we have a chance to get meat enough for a month." "But," said Salimba, "why should you wish to kill him, when we have enough meat still with us? Do not hurt him. Ah, what a fine back he has, and how strong he is. Perhaps he would carry us home." "How could an elephant understand our wishes?" asked Dudu. "Talk to him anyhow, perhaps he will be clever enough to understand what we want." Dudu laughed at his wife's simplicity, but to please her he said, "Elephant, we have lost our way; will you carry us and take us home, and we shall be your friends for ever." The Elephant ceased waving his trunk, and nodding to himself, and turning to them said-- "If you come near to me and take hold of my ears, you may get on my back, and I will carry you safely." When the Elephant spoke, Dudu fell back from surprise, and looked at him as though he had not heard aright, but Salimba advanced with all confidence, and laid hold of one of his ears, and pulled herself up on to his back. When she was seated, she cried out, "Come, Dudu, what are you looking at? Did you not hear him say he would carry you?" Seeing his wife smiling and comfortable on the Elephant's back, Dudu became a little braver and moved forward slowly, when the Elephant spoke again, "Come, Dudu, be not afraid. Follow your wife, and do as she did, and then I will travel home with you quickly." Dudu then put aside his fears, and his surprise, and seizing the Elephant's ear, he ascended and seated himself by his wife on the Elephant's back. Without another word the Elephant moved on rapidly, and the motion seemed to Dudu and Salimba most delightful. Whenever any overhanging branch was in the way, the Elephant wrenched it off, or bent it and passed on. No creek, stream, gulley, or river, stopped him, he seemed to know exactly the way he should go, as if the road he was travelling was well known to him. When it was getting dark he stopped and asked his friends if they would not like to rest for the night, and finding that they so wished it, he stopped at a nice place by the side of the river, and they slid to the ground, Dudu first, and Salimba last. He then broke dead branches for them, out of which they made a fire, and the Elephant stayed by them, as though he was their slave. Hearing their talk, he understood that they would like to have something better than dried meat to eat, and he said to them, "I am glad to know your wishes, for I think I can help you. Bide here a little, and I will go and search." About the middle of the night he returned to them with something white in his trunk, and a young antelope in front of him. The white thing was a great manioc root, which he dropped into Salimba's lap. "There, Salimba," he said, "there is food for you, eat your fill and sleep in peace, for I will watch over you." Dudu and Salimba had seen many strange things that day, but they were both still more astonished at the kindly and intelligent care which their friend the Elephant took of them. While they roasted their fresh meat over the flame, and the manioc root was baking under the heap of hot embers, the Elephant dug with his tusks for the juicy roots of his favourite trees round about their camp, and munched away contentedly. The next morning, all three, after a bathe in the river, set out on their journey more familiar with one another, and in a happier mood. About noon, while they were resting during the heat of the day, two lions came near to roar at them, but when Dudu was drawing his bow at one of them, the Elephant said: "You leave them to me; I will make them run pretty quick," saying which he tore off a great bough of a tree, and nourishing this with his trunk, he trotted on the double quick towards them, and used it so heartily that they both skurried away with their bellies to the ground, and their hides shrinking and quivering out of fear of the great rod. In the afternoon the Elephant and his human friends set off again, and some time after they came to a wide and deep river. He begged his friends to descend while he tried to find out the shallowest part. It took him some time to do this; but, having discovered a ford where the water was not quite over his back, he returned to them, and urged them to mount him as he wished to reach home before dark. As the Elephant was about to enter the river, he said to Dudu, "I see some hunters of your own kind creeping up towards us. Perhaps they are your kinsmen. Talk to them, and let us see whether they be friends or foes." Dudu hailed them, but they gave no answer, and, as they approached nearer, they were seen to prepare to cast their spears, so the Elephant said, "I see that they are not your friends; therefore, as I cross the river, do you look out for them, and keep them at a distance. If they come to the other side of the river, I shall know how to deal with them." They got to the opposite bank safely; but, as they were landing, Dudu and Salimba noticed that their pursuers had discovered a canoe, and that they were pulling hard after them. But the Elephant soon after landing came to a broad path smoothed by much travel, over which he took them at a quick pace, so fast, indeed, that the pursuers had to run to be able to keep up with them. Dudu, every now and then let fly an arrow at the hunters, which kept them at a safe distance. Towards night they came to the City of the Elephants, which was very large and fit to shelter such a multitude as they now saw. Their elephant did not linger, however, but took his friends at the same quick pace until they came to a mighty elephant that was much larger than any other, and his ivories were gleaming white and curled up, and exceedingly long. Before him Dudu and Salimba were told by their friend to descend and salaam, and he told his lord how he had found them lost in the woods, and how for the sake of the kindly words of the woman he had befriended them, and assisted them to the city of his tribe. When the King Elephant heard all this he was much pleased, and said to Dudu and Salimba that they were welcome to his city, and how they should not want for anything, as long as they would be pleased to stay with them, but as for the hunters who had dared to chase them, he would give orders at once. Accordingly he gave a signal, and ten active young elephants dashed out of the city, and in a short time not one of the hunters was left alive, though one of them had leaped into the river, thinking that he could escape in that manner. But then you know that an elephant is as much at home in a river, as a Kiboko [a hippopotamus], so that the last man was soon caught and was drowned. Dudu and Salimba, however, on account of Salimba's kind heart in preventing her husband wounding the elephant, were made free of the place, and their friend took them with him to many families, and the big pa's and ma's told their little babies all about them and their habits, and said that, though most of the human kind were very stupid and wicked, Dudu and Salimba were very good, and putting their trunks into their ears they whispered that Salimba was the better of the two. Then the little elephants gathered about them and trotted by their side and around them and diverted them with their antics, their races, their wrestlings, and other trials of strength, but when they became familiar and somewhat rude in their rough play, their elephant friend would admonish them, and if that did not suffice, he would switch them soundly. The City of the Elephants was a spacious and well-trodden glade in the midst of a thick forest, and as it was entered one saw how wisely the elephant families had arranged their manner of life. For without, the trees stood as thick as water-reeds, and the bush or underwood was like an old hedge of milkweed knitted together by thorny vines and snaky climbers into which the human hunter might not even poke his nose without hurt. Well, the burly elephants had, by much uprooting, created deep hollows, or recesses, wherein a family of two and more might snugly rest, and not even a dart of sunshine might reach them. Round about the great glade the dark leafy arches ran, and Dudu and his wife saw that the elephant families were numerous--for by one sweeping look they could tell that there were more elephants than there are human beings in a goodly village. In some of the recesses there was a row of six and more elephants; in another the parents stood head to head, and their children, big and little, clung close to their parents' sides; in another a family stood with heads turned towards the entrance, and so on all around--while under a big tree in the middle there was quite a gathering of big fellows, as though they were holding a serious palaver; under another tree one seemed to be on the outlook; another paced slowly from side to side; another plucked at this branch or at that; another appeared to be heaving a tree, or sharpening a blunted ivory; others seemed appointed to uproot the sprouts, lest the glade might become choked with underwood. Near the entrance on both sides were a brave company of them, faces turned outward, swinging their trunks, napping their ears, rubbing against each other, or who with pate against pate seemed to be drowsily considering something. There was a continual coming in and a going out, singly, or in small companies. The roads that ran through the glade were like a network, clean and smooth, while that which went towards the king's place was so wide that twenty men might walk abreast. At the far end the king stood under his own tree, with his family under the arches behind him. This was the City of the Elephants as Dudu and Salimba saw it. I ought to say that the outlets of it were many. One went straight through the woods in a line up river, at the other end it ran in a line following the river downward; one went to a lakelet, where juicy plants and reeds throve like corn in a man's fields, and where the elephants rejoiced in its cool water, and washed themselves and infants; another went to an ancient clearing where the plantain and manioc grew wild, and wherein more than two human tribes might find food for countless seasons. Then said their friend to Dudu and Salimba--"Now that I have shown you our manner of life, it is for you to ease your longing for awhile and rest with us. When you yearn for home, go tell our king, and he will send you with credit to your kindred." Then Dudu and his wife resolved to stay, and eat, and they stayed a whole season, not only unhurt, but tenderly cared for, with never a hungry hour or uneasy night. But at last Salimba's heart remembered her children, and kinfolk, and her own warm house and village pleasures, and on hinting of these memories to her husband, he said that after all there was no place like Bungandu. He remembered his long pipe, and the talk-house, the stool-making, shaft-polishing, bow-fitting, and the little tinkering jobs, the wine-trough, and the merry drinking bouts, and he wept softly as he thought of them. They thus agreed that it was time for them to travel homeward, and together they sought the elephant king, and frankly told him of their state. "My friends," he replied, "be no longer sad, but haste to depart. With the morning's dawn guides shall take you to Bungandu with such gifts as shall make you welcome to your folk. And when you come to them, say to them that the elephant king desires lasting peace and friendship with them. On our side we shall not injure their plantations, neither a plantain, nor a manioc root belonging to them; and on your side dig no pits for our unwary youngsters, nor hang the barbed iron aloft, nor plant the poisoned stake in the path, so we shall escape hurt and be unprovoked." And Dudu put his hand on the king's trunk as the pledge of good faith. In the morning, four elephants, as bearers of the gifts from the king-- bales of bark-cloth, and showy mats, and soft hides and other things-- and two fighting elephants besides their old friend, stood by the entrance to the city, and when the king elephant came up he lifted Salimba first on the back of her old companion, and then placed Dudu by her side, and at a parting wave the company moved on. In ten days they reached the edge of the plantation of Bungandu, and the leader halted. The bales were set down on the ground, and then their friend asked of Dudu and his wife-- "Know you where you are?" "We do," they answered. "Is this Bungandu?" he asked. "This is Bungandu," they replied. "Then here we part, that we may not alarm your friends. Go now your way, and we go our way. Go tell your folk how the elephants treat their friends, and let there be peace for ever between us." The elephants turned away, and Dudu and Salimba, after hiding their wealth in the underwood, went arm in arm into the village of Bungandu. When their friends saw them, they greeted them as we would greet our friends whom we have long believed to be dead, but who come back smiling and rejoicing to us. When the people heard their story they greatly wondered and doubted, but when Dudu and Salimba took them to the place of parting and showed them the hoof prints of seven elephants on the road, and the bales that they had hidden in the underwood, they believed their story. And they made it a rule from that day that no man of the tribe ever should lift a spear, or draw a bow, or dig a pit, or plant the poisoned stake in the path, or hang the barbed iron aloft, to do hurt to an elephant. And as a proof that I have but told the truth go ask the Bungandu, and they will say why none of their race will ever seek to hurt the elephant, and it will be the same as I have told you. That is my story. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. THE SEARCH FOR THE HOME OF THE SUN. We had a man named Kanga with us in 1883, which name seems to have been bestowed on him by some Islamised resident of Nyangwe by reason of some fancied suggestion made by some of his facial marks to the spots on a guinea-fowl. Kanga had not spoken as yet by the evening fire, but had been an amused listener. When the other tale-tellers were seen sporting their gay robes on the Sunday, it may have inspired him to make an effort to gain one for himself; anyhow, he surprised us one night by saying that he knew of a tale which perhaps we would like to hear. As Kanga's tribe was the Wasongora-Meno on the right bank of the Lualaba, between Nyangwe and Stanley Falls, the mere mention of a tale from that region was sufficient to kindle my interest. After a few suitable compliments to Kanga, which were clearly much appreciated, he spoke as follows: Master and friends. We have an old phrase among us which is very common. It is said that he who waits and waits for his turn, may wait too long, and lose his chance. My tongue is not nimble like some, and my words do not flow like the deep river. I am rather like the brook which is fretted by the stones in its bed, and I hope after this explanation you will not be too impatient with me. My tale is about King Masama and his tribe, the Balira, who dwelt far in the inmost region, behind (east) us, who throng the banks of the great river. They were formerly very numerous, and many of them came to live among us, but one day King Masama and the rest of the tribe left their country and went eastward, and they have never been heard of since, but those who chose to stay with us explained their disappearance in this way. A woman, one cold night, after making up her fire on the hearth, went to sleep. In the middle of the night the fire had spread, and spread, and began to lick up the litter on the floor, and from the litter it crept to her bed of dry banana-leaves, and in a little time shot up into flames. When the woman and her husband were at last awakened by the heat, the flames had already mounted into the roof, and were burning furiously. Soon they broke through the top and leaped up into the night, and a gust of wind came and carried the long flames like a stream of fire towards the neighbouring huts, and in a short time the fire had caught hold of every house, and the village was entirely burned. It was soon known that besides burning up their houses and much property, several old people and infants had been destroyed by the fire, and the people were horror-struck and angry. Then one voice said, "We all know in whose house the fire began, and the owner of it must make our losses good to us." The woman's husband heard this, and was alarmed, and guiltily fled into the woods. In the morning a council of the elders was held, and it was agreed that the man in whose house the fire commenced should be made to pay for his carelessness, and they forthwith searched for him. But when they sought for him he could not be found. Then all the young warriors who were cunning in wood-craft, girded and armed themselves, and searched for the trail, and when one of them had found it, he cried out, and the others gathered themselves about him and took it up, and when many eyes were set upon it, the trail could not be lost. They soon came up to the man, for he was seated under a tree, bitterly weeping. Without a word they took hold of him by the arms and bore him along with them, and brought him before the village fathers. He was not a common man by any means. He was known as one of Masama's principal men, and one whose advice had been often followed. "Oh," said everybody, "he is a rich man, and well able to pay; yet, if he gives all he has got, it will not be equal to our loss." The fathers talked a long time over the matter, and at last decided that to save his forfeited life he should freely turn over to them all his property. And he did so. His plantation of bananas and plantains, his plots of beans, yams, manioc, potatoes, ground-nuts, his slaves, spears, shields, knives, paddles and canoes. When he had given up all, the hearts of the people became softened towards him, and they forgave him the rest. After the elder's property had been equally divided among the sufferers by the fire, the people gained new courage, and set about rebuilding their homes, and before long they had a new village, and they had made themselves as comfortable as ever. Then King Masama made a law, a very severe law--to the effect that, in future, no fire should be lit in the houses during the day or night; and the people, who were now much alarmed about fire, with one heart agreed to keep the law. But it was soon felt that the cure for the evil was as cruel as the fire had been. For the houses had been thatched with green banana-leaves, the timbers were green and wet with their sap, the floor was damp and cold, the air was deadly, and the people began to suffer from joint aches, and their knees were stiff, and the pains travelled from one place to another through their bodies. The village was filled with groaning. Masama suffered more than all, for he was old. He shivered night and day, and his teeth chattered sometimes so that he could not talk, and after that his head would burn, and the hot sweat would pour from him, so that he knew no rest. Then the king gathered his chiefs and principal men together, and said: "Oh, my people, this is unendurable, for life is with me now but one continuous ague. Let us leave this country, for it is bewitched, and if I stay longer there will be nothing left of me. Lo, my joints are stiffened with my disease, and my muscles are withering. The only time I feel a little ease is when I lie on the hot ashes without the house, but when the rains fall I must needs withdraw indoors, and there I find no comfort, for the mould spreads everywhere. Let us hence at once to seek a warmer clime. Behold whence the sun issues daily in the morning, hot and glowing; there, where his home is, must be warmth, and we shall need no fire. What say you?" Masama's words revived their drooping spirits. They looked towards the sun as they saw him mount the sky, and felt his cheering glow on their naked breasts and shoulders, and they cried with one accord: "Let us hence, and seek the place whence he comes." And the people got ready and piled their belongings in the canoes, and on a certain day they left their village and ascended their broad river, the Lira. Day after day they paddled up the stream, and we heard of them from the Bafanya as they passed by their country, and the Bafanya heard of them for a long distance up--from the next tribe--the Bamoru-- and the Bamoru heard about them arriving near the Mountain Land beyond. Not until a long time afterwards did we hear what became of Masama and his people. It was said that the Balira, when the river had become shallow and small, left their canoes and travelled by land among little hills, and after winding in and out amongst them they came to the foot of the tall mountain which stands like a grandsire amongst the smaller mountains. Up the sides of the big mountain they straggled, the stronger and more active of them ahead, and as the days passed, they saw that the world was cold and dark until the sun showed himself over the edge of the big mountain, when the day became more agreeable, for the heat pierced into their very marrows, and made their hearts rejoice. The greater the heat became, the more certain were they that they were drawing near the home of the sun. And so they pressed on and on, day after day, winding along one side of the mountain, and then turning to wind again still higher. Each day, as they advanced towards the top, the heat became greater and greater. Between them and the sun there was now not the smallest shrub or leaf, and it became so fiercely hot that finally not a drop of sweat was left in their bodies. One day, when not a cloud was in the sky, and the world was all below them--far down like a great buffalo hide--the sun came out over the rim of the mountain like a ball of fire, and the nearest of them to the top were dried like a leaf over a flame, and those who were behind were amazed at its burning force, and felt, as he sailed over their heads, that it was too late for them to escape. Their skins began to shrivel up and crackle, and fall off, and none of those who were high up on the mountain side were left alive. But a few of those who were nearest the bottom, and the forest belts, managed to take shelter, and remaining there until night, they took advantage of the darkness, when the sun sleeps, to fly from the home of the sun. Except a few poor old people and toddling children, there was none left of the once populous tribe of the Balira. That is my story. We who live by the great river have taken the lesson, which the end of this tribe has been to us, close to our hearts, and it is this. Kings who insist that their wills should be followed, and never care to take counsel with their people, are as little to be heeded as children who babble of what they cannot know, and therefore in our villages we have many elders who take all matters from the chief and turn them over in their minds, and when they are agreed, they give the doing of them to the chief, who can act only as the elders decree. CHAPTER NINETEEN. A HOSPITABLE GORILLA. "Sir," said Baruti, after we had all gathered around the evening fire, and were waiting expectant for the usual story, "Kassim's tale about the City of the Elephants and the peace that was entered into between the elephants and the Bungandu has reminded me of what happened between a tribe living on the banks of the little Black River above the Basoko, and a Gorilla." "Wallahi, but these Basoko boys beat everybody for telling stories," exclaimed a Zanzibari. "I wonder, however, whether they invent them, or they really have heard them from their old folk, as they say they did." "We heard them, of course," replied Baruti, with an indignant look; "for how could Kassim or I imagine such things? I heard something each day almost from the elders, or the old women of the tribe. My mother also told me some, and my big brother told me others. At our village talk-house, scarcely a day passed but we heard of some strange thing which had happened in old times. It is this custom of meeting around the master's fire, and the legends that we hear, that reminds us of what we formerly heard, and by thinking and thinking over them the words come back anew to us." "But do you think these things of which you talk are true?" the Zanzibari asked. "True!" he echoed. "Who am I that I should say, This thing is true, and that is false! I but repeat what my betters said. I do not speak of what I saw, but of what I heard, and the master's words to us were: `Try and remember what was said to you in your villages by the ancients among your people, and if you will tell it to me properly, I will give you a nice cloth.' Well, when our old men were in good-humour, and smoked their long pipes, and the pot of wine was by their side, and we asked them to tell us somewhat about the days when they were young, they would say, `Listen to this now,' and they would tell us of what happened long ago. It is the things of long ago that we remember best, because they were so strange that they clung on the mind, and would not altogether be forgotten. If there is aught unpleasing in them, it is not our fault, for we but repeat the words that entered into our ears." "That will do, Baruti; go on with your story; and you, Baraka, let your tongue sleep," cried Zaidi. "I but asked a question. Ho! how impatient you fellows are!" "Nay, this is but chatter--we shall never hear the story at this rate. Hyah! Barikallah! [Hurry on, in God's name!] Baruti." Well (began Baruti), this tribe dwelt on the banks of the Black River just above Basoko town, and at that time of the far past the thick forest round about them was haunted by many monstrous animals; big apes, chimpanzees, gorillas and such creatures, which are not often seen nowadays. Not far from the village, in a darksome spot where the branches met overhead and formed a thick screen, and the lower wood hedged it closely round about so that a tortoise could scarcely penetrate it, there lived the Father of the Gorillas. He had housed himself in the fork of one of the tallest trees, and many men had seen the nest as they passed by, but none as yet had seen the owner. But one day a fisherman in search of rattans to make his nets, wandered far into the woods, and in trying to recover the direction home struck the Black River high up. As he stood wondering whether this was the black stream that flowed past his village, he saw, a little to the right of him, an immense gorilla, who on account of the long dark fur on his chest appeared to be bigger than he really was. A cold sweat caused by his great fear began to come out of the man, and his knees trembled so that he could hardly stand, but when he perceived that the gorilla did not move, but continued eating his bananas, he became comforted a little, and his senses came back. He turned his head around, in order to see the clearest way for a run; but as he was about to start, he saw that the gorilla's eyes were fixed on him. Then the gorilla broke out into speech and said: "Come to me, and let me look at thee." The fisherman's fear came back to him, but he did as he was told, and when he thought he was near enough, he stood still. Then the gorilla said: "If thou art kin to me, thou art safe from harm; if not, thou canst not pass. How many fingers hast thou?" he asked. "Four," the fisherman answered, and he held a hand up with its back towards the gorilla, and his thumb was folded in on the palm so that it could not be seen by the beast. "Ay--true indeed. Why, thou must be a kinsman of ours, though thy fur is somewhat scanty. Sit down and take thy share of this food, and eat." The fisherman sat down, and broke off bananas from the stalk and ate heartily. "Now mind," said the gorilla, "thou hast eaten food with me. Shouldst thou ever meet in thy wanderings any of my brothers, thou must be kind to them in memory of this day. Our tribe has no quarrel with any of thine, and thy tribe must have none against any of mine. I live alone far down this river, and thy tribe lives further still. Mind our password, `_Tu-wheli, Tu-wheli_.' By that we know who is friendly and who is against us." The fisherman departed, and speeding on his way reached his village safely; but he kept secret what he had seen and met that day. Some little time after, the tribe resolved to have a grand hunt around their village, to scare the beasts of the forest away; for in some things they resemble us. If we leave a district undisturbed for a moon or so, the animals think that we have either departed the country or are afraid of them. The apes and the elephants are the worst in that respect, and always lead the way, pressing on our heels, and often sending their scouts ahead to report, or as a hint to us that we are lingering too long. The people loaded themselves with their great nets, and first chose the district where the Gorilla Father lived. They set their nets around a wide space, and then the beaters were directed to make a large sweep and drive all the game towards the nets, and here and there where the netting was weak, the hunters stood behind a thick bush, their heavy spears ready for the fling. Well, it just happened that at that very time the Father of the Gorillas was holding forth to his kinsmen, and the first they knew of the hunt, and that a multitude of men were in the woods, was when they heard the horrid yells of the beaters, the sound of horns, the jingle of iron, and the all-round swish of bushes. The fisherman, like the rest of his friends, was well armed, and he was as keen as the others for the hunt, but soon after he heard the cries of the beaters, he saw a large gorilla rushing out of the bushes, and knew him instantly for his friend, and he cried out "_Tu-wheli! Tu-wheli_!" At the sound of it the gorilla led his kinsmen towards him, and passed the word to those behind, saying, "Ah, this is our friend. Do not hurt him." The gorillas passed in a long line of mighty fellows, close by the fisherman, and as they heard the voice of their father, they only whispered to him, "_Tu-wheli, Tu-wheli_," but the last of all was a big, sour-faced gorilla, who, when he saw that the pass was only guarded by one man, made a rush at him. His roar of rage was heard by the father, and turning back he knew that his human brother was in danger, and he cried out to those nearest to part them, "The man is our brother;" but as the fierce gorilla was deaf to words, the father loped back to them, and slew him, and then hastened away as the hunters were pressing up. These, when they came up and observed that the fisherman's spear was still in his hand, and not painted with blood, were furious, and they agreed together that he should not have a share of the meat, "For," said they, "he must have been in a league against us." Neither did he obtain any share of the spoil. A few days after this the fisherman was proceeding through a part of the forest, and a gorilla met him in the path, and said: "Stay, I seem to know thee. Art thou not our brother?" "_Tu-wheli, Tu-wheli_!" he cried. "Ah, it is true, follow me;" and they went together to the gorilla's nesting-tree, where the fisherman was feasted on ripe bananas, berries, and nuts, and juicy roots, and he was shown which roots and berries were sweet, and which were bitter, and so great was the variety of food he saw, that he came to know that though lost in the forest a wise man need not starve. When the fisherman returned to his village he called the elders together, and he laid the whole story of his adventures before his people, and when the elders heard that the berries and roots, nuts, and mushrooms in the forest, of which they had hitherto been afraid, were sweet and wholesome, they exclaimed with one voice, that the gorillas had proved themselves true friends, and had given them much useful knowledge; and it was agreed among them that in future the gorillas should be reckoned among those, against whom it would not be lawful to raise their spears. Ever since the tribes on the Black River avoid harming the gorilla, and all his kind big and little; neither will any of the gorilla trespass on their plantations, or molest any of the people. 
2519	----	LIVINGSTONE'S EXPEDITION TO THE ZAMBESI AND ITS TRIBUTARIES*** Transcribed from the 1894 John Murray edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk A POPULAR ACCOUNT OF DR. LIVINGSTONE'S EXPEDITION TO THE ZAMBESI AND ITS TRIBUTARIES: AND THE DISCOVERY OF LAKES SHIRWA AND NYASSA 1858-1864 TO THE RIGHT HON. LORD PALMERSTON, K.G., G.C.B. My Lord, I beg leave to dedicate this Volume to your Lordship, as a tribute justly due to the great Statesman who has ever had at heart the amelioration of the African race; and as a token of admiration of the beneficial effects of that policy which he has so long laboured to establish on the West Coast of Africa; and which, in improving that region, has most forcibly shown the need of some similar system on the opposite side of the Continent. DAVID LIVINGSTONE. NOTICE TO THIS WORK. The name of the late Mr. Charles Livingstone takes a prominent place amongst those who acted under the leadership of Dr. Livingstone during the adventurous sojourn of the "Zambesi Expedition" in East Africa. In laying the result of their discoveries before the public, it was arranged that Mr. Charles Livingstone should place his voluminous notes at the disposal of his brother: they are incorporated in the present work, but in a necessarily abridged form. PREFACE. It has been my object in this work to give as clear an account as I was able of tracts of country previously unexplored, with their river systems, natural productions, and capabilities; and to bring before my countrymen, and all others interested in the cause of humanity, the misery entailed by the slave-trade in its inland phases; a subject on which I and my companions are the first who have had any opportunities of forming a judgment. The eight years spent in Africa, since my last work was published, have not, I fear, improved my power of writing English; but I hope that, whatever my descriptions want in clearness, or literary skill, may in a measure be compensated by the novelty of the scenes described, and the additional information afforded on that curse of Africa, and that shame, even now, in the 19th century, of an European nation,--the slave-trade. I took the "Lady Nyassa" to Bombay for the express purpose of selling her, and might without any difficulty have done so; but with the thought of parting with her arose, more strongly than ever, the feeling of disinclination to abandon the East Coast of Africa to the Portuguese and slave-trading, and I determined to run home and consult my friends before I allowed the little vessel to pass from my hands. After, therefore, having put two Ajawa lads, Chuma and Wakatani, to school under the eminent missionary the Rev. Dr. Wilson, and having provided satisfactorily for the native crew, I started homewards with the three white sailors, and reached London July 20th, 1864. Mr. and Mrs. Webb, my much-loved friends, wrote to Bombay inviting me, in the event of my coming to England, to make Newstead Abbey my headquarters, and on my arrival renewed their invitation: and though, when I accepted it, I had no intention of remaining so long with my kind-hearted generous friends, I stayed with them until April, 1865, and under their roof transcribed from my own and my brother's journal the whole of this present book. It is with heartfelt gratitude I would record their unwearied kindness. My acquaintance with Mr. Webb began in Africa, where he was a daring and successful hunter, and his continued friendship is most valuable because he has seen missionary work, and he would not accord his respect and esteem to me had he not believed that I, and my brethren also, were to be looked on as honest men earnestly trying to do our duty. The Government have supported the proposal of the Royal Geographical Society made by my friend Sir Roderick Murchison, and have united with that body to aid me in another attempt to open Africa to civilizing influences, and a valued private friend has given a thousand pounds for the same object. I propose to go inland, north of the territory which the Portuguese in Europe claim, and endeavour to commence that system on the East which has been so eminently successful on the West Coast; a system combining the repressive efforts of H.M. cruisers with lawful trade and Christian Missions--the moral and material results of which have been so gratifying. I hope to ascend the Rovuma, or some other river North of Cape Delgado, and, in addition to my other work, shall strive, by passing along the Northern end of Lake Nyassa and round the Southern end of Lake Tanganyika, to ascertain the watershed of that part of Africa. In so doing, I have no wish to unsettle what with so much toil and danger was accomplished by Speke and Grant, but rather to confirm their illustrious discoveries. I have to acknowledge the obliging readiness of Lord Russell in lending me the drawings taken by the artist who was in the first instance attached to the Expedition. These sketches, with photographs by Charles Livingstone and Dr. Kirk, have materially assisted in the illustrations. I would also very sincerely thank my friends Professor Owen and Mr. Oswell for many valuable hints and other aid in the preparation of this volume. Newstead Abbey, April 16, 1865. THE ZAMBESI AND ITS TRIBUTARIES. INTRODUCTION. Objects of the Expedition--Personal Interest shown by Naval Authorities--Members of the Zambesi Expedition. When first I determined on publishing the narrative of my "Missionary Travels," I had a great misgiving as to whether the criticism my endeavours might provoke would be friendly or the reverse, more particularly as I felt that I had then been so long a sojourner in the wilderness, as to be quite a stranger to the British public. But I am now in this, my second essay at authorship, cheered by the conviction that very many readers, who are personally unknown to me, will receive this narrative with the kindly consideration and allowances of friends; and that many more, under the genial influences of an innate love of liberty, and of a desire to see the same social and religious blessings they themselves enjoy, disseminated throughout the world, will sympathize with me in the efforts by which I have striven, however imperfectly, to elevate the position and character of our fellow-men in Africa. This knowledge makes me doubly anxious to render my narrative acceptable to all my readers; but, in the absence of any excellence in literary composition, the natural consequence of my pursuits, I have to offer only a simple account of a mission which, with respect to the objects proposed to be thereby accomplished, formed a noble contrast to some of the earlier expeditions to Eastern Africa. I believe that the information it will give, respecting the people visited and the countries traversed, will not be materially gainsaid by any future commonplace traveller like myself, who may be blest with fair health and a gleam of sunshine in his breast. This account is written in the earnest hope that it may contribute to that information which will yet cause the great and fertile continent of Africa to be no longer kept wantonly sealed, but made available as the scene of European enterprise, and will enable its people to take a place among the nations of the earth, thus securing the happiness and prosperity of tribes now sunk in barbarism or debased by slavery; and, above all, I cherish the hope that it may lead to the introduction of the blessings of the Gospel. In order that the following narrative may be clearly understood, it is necessary to call to mind some things which took place previous to the Zambesi Expedition being sent out. Most geographers are aware that, before the discovery of Lake Ngami and the well-watered country in which the Makololo dwell, the idea prevailed that a large part of the interior of Africa consisted of sandy deserts, into which rivers ran and were lost. During my journey in 1852-6, from sea to sea, across the south intertropical part of the continent, it was found to be a well-watered country, with large tracts of fine fertile soil covered with forest, and beautiful grassy valleys, occupied by a considerable population; and one of the most wonderful waterfalls in the world was brought to light. The peculiar form of the continent was then ascertained to be an elevated plateau, somewhat depressed in the centre, and with fissures in the sides by which the rivers escaped to the sea; and this great fact in physical geography can never be referred to without calling to mind the remarkable hypothesis by which the distinguished President of the Royal Geographical Society (Sir Roderick I. Murchison) clearly indicated this peculiarity, before it was verified by actual observation of the altitudes of the country and by the courses of the rivers. New light was thrown on other portions of the continent by the famous travels of Dr. Barth, by the researches of the Church of England missionaries Krapf, Erkhardt, and Rebman, by the persevering efforts of Dr. Baikie, the last martyr to the climate and English enterprise, by the journey of Francis Galton, and by the most interesting discoveries of Lakes Tanganyika and Victoria Nyanza by Captain Burton, and by Captain Speke, whose untimely end we all so deeply deplore. Then followed the researches of Van der Decken, Thornton, and others; and last of all the grand discovery of the main source of the Nile, which every Englishman must feel an honest pride in knowing was accomplished by our gallant countrymen, Speke and Grant. The fabulous torrid zone, of parched and burning sand, was now proved to be a well-watered region resembling North America in its fresh-water lakes, and India in its hot humid lowlands, jungles, ghauts, and cool highland plains. The main object of this Zambesi Expedition, as our instructions from Her Majesty's Government explicitly stated, was to extend the knowledge already attained of the geography and mineral and agricultural resources of Eastern and Central Africa--to improve our acquaintance with the inhabitants, and to endeavour to engage them to apply themselves to industrial pursuits and to the cultivation of their lands, with a view to the production of raw material to be exported to England in return for British manufactures; and it was hoped that, by encouraging the natives to occupy themselves in the development of the resources of the country, a considerable advance might be made towards the extinction of the slave- trade, as they would not be long in discovering that the former would eventually be a more certain source of profit than the latter. The Expedition was sent in accordance with the settled policy of the English Government; and the Earl of Clarendon, being then at the head of the Foreign Office, the Mission was organized under his immediate care. When a change of Government ensued, we experienced the same generous countenance and sympathy from the Earl of Malmesbury, as we had previously received from Lord Clarendon; and, on the accession of Earl Russell to the high office he has so long filled, we were always favoured with equally ready attention and the same prompt assistance. Thus the conviction was produced that our work embodied the principles, not of any one party, but of the hearts of the statesmen and of the people of England generally. The Expedition owes great obligations to the Lords of the Admiralty for their unvarying readiness to render us every assistance in their power; and to the warm-hearted and ever-obliging hydrographer to the Admiralty, the late Admiral Washington, as a subordinate, but most effective agent, our heartfelt gratitude is also due; and we must ever thankfully acknowledge that our efficiency was mainly due to the kind services of Admirals Sir Frederick Grey, Sir Baldwin Walker, and all the naval officers serving under them on the East Coast. Nor must I omit to record our obligations to Mr. Skead, R.N. The Luawe was carefully sounded and surveyed by this officer, whose skilful and zealous labours, both on that river, and afterwards on the Lower Zambesi, were deserving of all praise. In speaking of what has been done by the Expedition, it should always be understood that Dr. Kirk, Mr. Charles Livingstone, Mr. R. Thornton, and others composed it. In using the plural number they are meant, and I wish to bear testimony to the untiring zeal, energy, courage, and perseverance with which my companions laboured; undaunted by difficulties, dangers, or hard fare. It is my firm belief that, were their services required in any other capacity, they might be implicitly relied on to perform their duty like men. The reason why Dr. Kirk's name does not appear on the title-page of this narrative is, because it is hoped that he may give an account of the botany and natural history of the Expedition in a separate work from his own pen. He collected above four thousand species of plants, specimens of most of the valuable woods, of the different native manufactures, of the articles of food, and of the different kinds of cotton from every spot we visited, and a great variety of birds and insects; besides making meteorological observations, and affording, as our instructions required, medical assistance to the natives in every case where he could be of any use. Charles Livingstone was also fully occupied in his duties in following out the general objects of our mission, in encouraging the culture of cotton, in making many magnetic and meteorological observations, in photographing so long as the materials would serve, and in collecting a large number of birds, insects, and other objects of interest. The collections, being Government property, have been forwarded to the British Museum, and to the Royal Botanic, Gardens at Kew; and should Dr. Kirk undertake their description, three or four years will be required for the purpose. Though collections were made, it was always distinctly understood that, however desirable these and our explorations might be, "Her Majesty's Government attached more importance to the moral influence that might be exerted on the minds of the natives by a well-regulated and orderly household of Europeans setting an example of consistent moral conduct to all who might witness it; treating the people with kindness, and relieving their wants, teaching them to make experiments in agriculture, explaining to them the more simple arts, imparting to them religious instruction as far as they are capable of receiving it, and inculcating peace and good will to each other." It would be tiresome to enumerate in detail all the little acts which were performed by us while following out our instructions. As a rule, whenever the steamer stopped to take in wood, or for any other purpose, Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone went ashore to their duties: one of our party, who it was intended should navigate the vessel and lay down the geographical positions, having failed to answer the expectations formed of him, these duties fell chiefly to my share. They involved a considerable amount of night work, in which I was always cheerfully aided by my companions, and the results were regularly communicated to our warm and ever-ready friend, Sir Thomas Maclear of the Royal Observatory, Cape of Good Hope. While this work was going through the press, we were favoured with the longitudes of several stations determined from observed occultations of stars by the moon, and from eclipses and reappearances of Jupiter's satellites, by Mr. Mann, the able Assistant to the Cape Astronomer Royal; the lunars are still in the hands of Mr. G. W. H. Maclear of the same Observatory. In addition to these, the altitudes, variations of the compass, latitudes and longitudes, as calculated on the spot, appear in the map by Mr. Arrowsmith, and it is hoped may not differ much from the results of the same data in abler bands. The office of "skipper," which, rather than let the Expedition come to a stand, I undertook, required no great ability in one "not too old to learn:" it saved a salary, and, what was much more valuable than gold, saved the Expedition from the drawback of any one thinking that he was indispensable to its further progress. The office required attention to the vessel both at rest and in motion. It also involved considerable exposure to the sun; and to my regret kept me from much anticipated intercourse with the natives, and the formation of full vocabularies of their dialects. I may add that all wearisome repetitions are as much as possible avoided in the narrative; and, our movements and operations having previously been given in a series of despatches, the attempt is now made to give as fairly as possible just what would most strike any person of ordinary intelligence in passing through the country. For the sake of the freshness which usually attaches to first impressions, the Journal of Charles Livingstone has been incorporated in the narrative; and many remarks made by the natives, which ho put down at the moment of translation, will convey to others the same ideas as they did to ourselves. Some are no doubt trivial; but it is by the little acts and words of every-day life that character is truly and best known. And doubtless many will prefer to draw their own conclusions from them rather than to be schooled by us. CHAPTER I. Arrival at the Zambesi--Rebel Warfare--Wild Animals--Shupanga--Hippopotamus Hunters--The Makololo--Crocodiles. The Expedition left England on the 10th of March, 1858, in Her Majesty's Colonial Steamer "Pearl," commanded by Captain Duncan; and, after enjoying the generous hospitality of our friends at Cape Town, with the obliging attentions of Sir George Grey, and receiving on board Mr. Francis Skead, R.N., as surveyor, we reached the East Coast in the following May. Our first object was to explore the Zambesi, its mouths and tributaries, with a view to their being used as highways for commerce and Christianity to pass into the vast interior of Africa. When we came within five or six miles of the land, the yellowish-green tinge of the sea in soundings was suddenly succeeded by muddy water with wrack, as of a river in flood. The two colours did not intermingle, but the line of contact was as sharply defined as when the ocean meets the land. It was observed that under the wrack--consisting of reeds, sticks, and leaves,--and even under floating cuttlefish bones and Portuguese "men-of-war" (Physalia), numbers of small fish screen themselves from the eyes of birds of prey, and from the rays of the torrid sun. We entered the river Luawe first, because its entrance is so smooth and deep, that the "Pearl," drawing 9 feet 7 inches, went in without a boat sounding ahead. A small steam launch having been brought out from England in three sections on the deck of the "Pearl" was hoisted out and screwed together at the anchorage, and with her aid the exploration was commenced. She was called the "Ma Robert," after Mrs. Livingstone, to whom the natives, according to their custom, gave the name Ma (mother) of her eldest son. The harbour is deep, but shut in by mangrove swamps; and though the water a few miles up is fresh, it is only a tidal river; for, after ascending some seventy miles, it was found to end in marshes blocked up with reeds and succulent aquatic plants. As the Luawe had been called "West Luabo," it was supposed to be a branch of the Zambesi, the main stream of which is called "Luabo," or "East Luabo." The "Ma Robert" and "Pearl" then went to what proved to be a real mouth of the river we sought. The Zambesi pours its waters into the ocean by four mouths, namely, the Milambe, which is the most westerly, the Kongone, the Luabo, and the Timbwe (or Muselo). When the river is in flood, a natural canal running parallel with the coast, and winding very much among the swamps, forms a secret way for conveying slaves from Quillimane to the bays Massangano and Nameara, or to the Zambesi itself. The Kwakwa, or river of Quillimane, some sixty miles distant from the mouth of the Zambesi, has long been represented as the principal entrance to the Zambesi, in order, as the Portuguese now maintain, that the English cruisers might be induced to watch the false mouth, while slaves were quietly shipped from the true one; and, strange to say, this error has lately been propagated by a map issued by the colonial minister of Portugal. After the examination of three branches by the able and energetic surveyor, Francis Skead, R.N., the Kongone was found to be the best entrance. The immense amount of sand brought down by the Zambesi has in the course of ages formed a sort of promontory, against which the long swell of the Indian Ocean, beating during the prevailing winds, has formed bars, which, acting against the waters of the delta, may have led to their exit sideways. The Kongone is one of those lateral branches, and the safest; inasmuch as the bar has nearly two fathoms on it at low water, and the rise at spring tides is from twelve to fourteen feet. The bar is narrow, the passage nearly straight, and, were it buoyed and a beacon placed on Pearl Island, would always be safe to a steamer. When the wind is from the east or north, the bar is smooth; if from the south and south-east, it has a heavy break on it, and is not to be attempted in boats. A strong current setting to the east when the tide is flowing, and to the west when ebbing, may drag a boat or ship into the breakers. If one is doubtful of his longitude and runs east, he will soon see the land at Timbwe disappear away to the north; and coming west again, he can easily make out East Luabo from its great size; and Kongone follows several miles west. East Luabo has a good but long bar, and not to be attempted unless the wind be north-east or east. It has sometimes been called "Barra Catrina," and was used in the embarkations of slaves. This may have been the "River of Good Signs," of Vasco da Gama, as the mouth is more easily seen from the seaward than any other; but the absence of the pillar dedicated by that navigator to "St. Raphael," leaves the matter in doubt. No Portuguese live within eighty miles of any mouth of the Zambesi. The Kongone is five miles east of the Milambe, or western branch, and seven miles west from East Luabo, which again is five miles from the Timbwe. We saw but few natives, and these, by escaping from their canoes into the mangrove thickets the moment they caught sight of us, gave unmistakeable indications that they had no very favourable opinion of white men. They were probably fugitives from Portuguese slavery. In the grassy glades buffaloes, wart-hogs, and three kinds of antelope were abundant, and the latter easily obtained. A few hours' hunting usually provided venison enough for a score of men for several days. On proceeding up the Kongone branch it was found that, by keeping well in the bends, which the current had worn deep, shoals were easily avoided. The first twenty miles are straight and deep; then a small and rather tortuous natural canal leads off to the right, and, after about five miles, during which the paddles almost touch the floating grass of the sides, ends in the broad Zambesi. The rest of the Kongone branch comes out of the main stream considerably higher up as the outgoing branch called Doto. The first twenty miles of the Kongone are enclosed in mangrove jungle; some of the trees are ornamented with orchilla weed, which appears never to have been gathered. Huge ferns, palm bushes, and occasionally wild date-palms peer out in the forest, which consists of different species of mangroves; the bunches of bright yellow, though scarcely edible fruit, contrasting prettily with the graceful green leaves. In some spots the Milola, an umbrageous hibiscus, with large yellowish flowers, grows in masses along the bank. Its bark is made into cordage, and is especially valuable for the manufacture of ropes attached to harpoons for killing the hippopotamus. The Pandanus or screw-palm, from which sugar bags are made in the Mauritius, also appears, and on coming out of the canal into the Zambesi many are so tall as in the distance to remind us of the steeples of our native land, and make us relish the remark of an old sailor, "that but one thing was wanting to complete the picture, and that was a 'grog-shop near the church.'" We find also a few guava and lime- trees growing wild, but the natives claim the crops. The dark woods resound with the lively and exultant song of the kinghunter (_Halcyon striolata_), as he sits perched on high among the trees. As the steamer moves on through the winding channel, a pretty little heron or bright kingfisher darts out in alarm from the edge of the bank, flies on ahead a short distance, and settles quietly down to be again frightened off in a few seconds as we approach. The magnificent fishhawk (_Halietus vocifer_) sits on the top of a mangrove-tree, digesting his morning meal of fresh fish, and is clearly unwilling to stir until the imminence of the danger compels him at last to spread his great wings for flight. The glossy ibis, acute of ear to a remarkable degree, hears from afar the unwonted sound of the paddles, and, springing from the mud where his family has been quietly feasting, is off, screaming out his loud, harsh, and defiant Ha! ha! ha! long before the danger is near. Several native huts now peep out from the bananas and cocoa-palms on the right bank; they stand on piles a few feet above the low damp ground, and their owners enter them by means of ladders. The soil is wonderfully rich, and the gardens are really excellent. Rice is cultivated largely; sweet potatoes, pumpkins, tomatoes, cabbages, onions (shalots), peas, a little cotton, and sugar-cane are also raised. It is said that English potatoes, when planted at Quillimane on soil resembling this, in the course of two years become in taste like sweet potatoes (_Convolvulus batatas_), and are like our potato frosted. The whole of the fertile region extending from the Kongone canal to beyond Mazaro, some eighty miles in length, and fifty in breadth, is admirably adapted for the growth of sugar-cane; and were it in the hands of our friends at the Cape, would supply all Europe with sugar. The remarkably few people seen appear to be tolerably well fed, but there was a dearth of clothing among them; all were blacks, and nearly all Portuguese "colonos" or serfs. They manifested no fear of white men, and stood in groups on the bank gazing in astonishment at the steamers, especially at the "Pearl," which accompanied us thus far up the river. One old man who came on board remarked that never before had he seen any vessel so large as the "Pearl," it was like a village, "Was it made out of one tree?" All were eager traders, and soon came off to the ship in light swift canoes with every kind of fruit and food they possessed; a few brought honey and beeswax, which are found in quantities in the mangrove forests. As the ships steamed off, many anxious sellers ran along the bank, holding up fowls, baskets of rice and meal, and shouting "Malonda, Malonda," "things for sale," while others followed in canoes, which they sent through the water with great velocity by means of short broad-bladed paddles. Finding the "Pearl's" draught too great for that part of the river near the island of Simbo, where the branch called the Doto is given off to the Kongone on the right bank, and another named Chinde departs to the secret canal already mentioned on the left, the goods belonging to the expedition were taken out of her, and placed on one of the grassy islands about forty miles from the bar. The "Pearl" then left us, and we had to part with our good friends Duncan and Skead; the former for Ceylon, the latter to return to his duties as Government Surveyor at the Cape. Of those who eventually did the work of the expedition the majority took a sober common-sense view of the enterprise in which we were engaged. Some remained on Expedition Island from the 18th June until the 13th August, while the launch and pinnace were carrying the goods up to Shupanga and Senna. The country was in a state of war, our luggage was in danger, and several of our party were exposed to disease from inactivity in the malaria of the delta. Here some had their first introduction to African life, and African fever. Those alone were safe who were actively employed with the vessels, and of course, remembering the perilous position of their fellows, they strained every nerve to finish the work and take them away. Large columns of smoke rose daily from different points of the horizon, showing that the natives were burning off the immense crops of tall grass, here a nuisance, however valuable elsewhere. A white cloud was often observed to rest on the head of the column, as if a current of hot damp air was sent up by the heat of the flames and its moisture was condensed at the top. Rain did not follow, though theorists have imagined that in such cases it ought. Large game, buffaloes, and zebras, were abundant abreast the island, but no men could be seen. On the mainland, over on the right bank of the river, we were amused by the eccentric gyrations and evolutions of flocks of small seed-eating birds, who in their flight wheeled into compact columns with such military precision as to give us the impression that they must be guided by a leader, and all directed by the same signal. Several other kinds of small birds now go in flocks, and among others the large Senegal swallow. The presence of this bird, being clearly in a state of migration from the north, while the common swallow of the country, and the brown kite are away beyond the equator, leads to the conjecture that there may be a double migration, namely, of birds from torrid climates to the more temperate, as this now is, as well as from severe winters to sunny regions; but this could not be verified by such birds of passage as ourselves. On reaching Mazaro, the mouth of a narrow creek which in floods communicates with the Quillimane river, we found that the Portuguese were at war with a half-caste named Mariano _alias_ Matakenya, from whom they had generally fled, and who, having built a stockade near the mouth of the Shire, owned all the country between that river and Mazaro. Mariano was best known by his native name Matakenya, which in their tongue means "trembling," or quivering as trees do in a storm. He was a keen slave- hunter, and kept a large number of men, well armed with muskets. It is an entire mistake to suppose that the slave trade is one of buying and selling alone; or that engagements can be made with labourers in Africa as they are in India; Mariano, like other Portuguese, had no labour to spare. He had been in the habit of sending out armed parties on slave- hunting forays among the helpless tribes to the north-east, and carrying down the kidnapped victims in chains to Quillimane, where they were sold by his brother-in-law Cruz Coimbra, and shipped as "Free emigrants" to the French island of Bourbon. So long as his robberies and murders were restricted to the natives at a distance, the authorities did not interfere; but his men, trained to deeds of violence and bloodshed in their slave forays, naturally began to practise on the people nearer at hand, though belonging to the Portuguese, and even in the village of Senna, under the guns of the fort. A gentleman of the highest standing told us that, while at dinner with his family, it was no uncommon event for a slave to rush into the room pursued by one of Mariano's men with spear in hand to murder him. The atrocities of this villain, aptly termed by the late governor of Quillimane a "notorious robber and murderer," became at length intolerable. All the Portuguese spoke of him as a rare monster of inhumanity. It is unaccountable why half-castes, such as he, are so much more cruel than the Portuguese, but such is undoubtedly the case. It was asserted that one of his favourite modes of creating an impression in the country, and making his name dreaded, was to spear his captives with his own hands. On one occasion he is reported to have thus killed forty poor wretches placed in a row before him. We did not at first credit these statements, and thought that they were merely exaggerations of the incensed Portuguese, who naturally enough were exasperated with him for stopping their trade, and harbouring their runaway slaves; but we learned afterwards from the natives, that the accounts given us by the Portuguese had not exceeded the truth; and that Mariano was quite as great a ruffian as they had described him. One expects slave-owners to treat their human chattels as well as men do other animals of value, but the slave-trade seems always to engender an unreasoning ferocity, if not blood-thirstiness. War was declared against Mariano, and a force sent to take him; he resisted for a time; but seeing that he was likely to get the worst of it, and knowing that the Portuguese governors have small salaries, and are therefore "disposed to be reasonable," he went down to Quillimane to "arrange" with the Governor, as it is termed here; but Colonel da Silva put him in prison, and then sent him for trial to Mozambique. When we came into the country, his people were fighting under his brother Bonga. The war had lasted six months and stopped all trade on the river during that period. On the 15th June we first came into contact with the "rebels." They appeared as a crowd of well-armed and fantastically-dressed people under the trees at Mazaro. On explaining that we were English, some at once came on board and called to those on shore to lay aside their arms. On landing among them we saw that many had the branded marks of slaves on their chests, but they warmly approved our objects, and knew well the distinctive character of our nation on the slave question. The shout at our departure contrasted strongly with the suspicious questioning on our approach. Hence-forward we were recognized as friends by both parties. At a later period we were taking in wood within a mile of the scene of action, but a dense fog prevented our hearing the noise of a battle at Mazaro; and on arriving there, immediately after, many natives and Portuguese appeared on the bank. Dr. Livingstone, landing to salute some of his old friends among the latter, found himself in the sickening smell, and among the mutilated bodies of the slain; he was requested to take the Governor, who was very ill of fever, across to Shupanga, and just as he gave his assent, the rebels renewed the fight, and the balls began to whistle about in all directions. After trying in vain to get some one to assist the Governor down to the steamer, and unwilling to leave him in such danger, as the officer sent to bring our Kroomen did not appear, he went into the hut, and dragged along his Excellency to the ship. He was a very tall man, and as he swayed hither and thither from weakness, weighing down Dr. Livingstone, it must have appeared like one drunken man helping another. Some of the Portuguese white soldiers stood fighting with great bravery against the enemy in front, while a few were coolly shooting at their own slaves for fleeing into the river behind. The rebels soon retired, and the Portuguese escaped to a sandbank in the Zambesi, and thence to an island opposite Shupanga, where they lay for some weeks, looking at the rebels on the mainland opposite. This state of inactivity on the part of the Portuguese could not well be helped, as they had expended all their ammunition and were waiting anxiously for supplies; hoping, no doubt sincerely, that the enemy might not hear that their powder had failed. Luckily their hopes were not disappointed; the rebels waited until a supply came, and were then repulsed after three-and-a-half hours' hard fighting. Two months afterwards Mariano's stockade was burned, the garrison having fled in a panic; and as Bonga declared that he did not wish to fight with this Governor, with whom he had no quarrel, the war soon came to an end. His Excellency meanwhile, being a disciple of Raspail, had taken nothing for the fever but a little camphor, and after he was taken to Shupanga became comatose. More potent remedies were administered to him, to his intense disgust, and he soon recovered. The Colonel in attendance, whom he never afterwards forgave, encouraged the treatment. "Give what is right; never mind him; he is very (_muito_) impertinent:" and all night long, with every draught of water the Colonel gave a quantity of quinine: the consequence was, next morning the patient was cinchonized and better. For sixty or seventy miles before reaching Mazaro, the scenery is tame and uninteresting. On either hand is a dreary uninhabited expanse, of the same level grassy plains, with merely a few trees to relieve the painful monotony. The round green top of the stately palm-tree looks at a distance, when its grey trunk cannot be seen, as though hung in mid- air. Many flocks of busy sand-martins, which here, and as far south as the Orange River, do not migrate, have perforated the banks two or three feet horizontally, in order to place their nests at the ends, and are now chasing on restless wing the myriads of tropical insects. The broad river has many low islands, on which are seen various kinds of waterfowl, such as geese, spoonbills, herons, and flamingoes. Repulsive crocodiles, as with open jaws they sleep and bask in the sun on the low banks, soon catch the sound of the revolving paddles and glide quietly into the stream. The hippopotamus, having selected some still reach of the river to spend the day, rises out of the bottom, where he has been enjoying his morning bath after the labours of the night on shore, blows a puff of spray from his nostrils, shakes the water out of his ears, puts his enormous snout up straight and yawns, sounding a loud alarm to the rest of the herd, with notes as of a monster bassoon. As we approach Mazaro the scenery improves. We see the well-wooded Shupanga ridge stretching to the left, and in front blue hills rise dimly far in the distance. There is no trade whatever on the Zambesi below Mazaro. All the merchandise of Senna and Tette is brought to that point in large canoes, and thence carried six miles across the country on men's heads to be reshipped on a small stream that flows into the Kwakwa, or Quillimane river, which is entirely distinct from the Zambesi. Only on rare occasions and during the highest floods can canoes pass from the Zambesi to the Quillimane river through the narrow natural canal _Mutu_. The natives of Maruru, or the country around Mazaro, the word Mazaro meaning the "mouth of the creek" Mutu, have a bad name among the Portuguese; they are said to be expert thieves, and the merchants sometimes suffer from their adroitness while the goods are in transit from one river to the other. In general they are trained canoe-men, and man many of the canoes that ply thence to Senna and Tette; their pay is small, and, not trusting the traders, they must always have it before they start. Africans being prone to assign plausible reasons for their conduct, like white men in more enlightened lands, it is possible they may be good-humouredly giving their reason for insisting on being invariably paid in advance in the words of their favourite canoe-song, "Uachingere, Uachingere Kale," "You cheated me of old;" or, "Thou art slippery slippery truly." The Landeens or Zulus are lords of the right bank of the Zambesi; and the Portuguese, by paying this fighting tribe a pretty heavy annual tribute, practically admit this. Regularly every year come the Zulus in force to Senna and Shupanga for the accustomed tribute. The few wealthy merchants of Senna groan under the burden, for it falls chiefly on them. They submit to pay annually 200 pieces of cloth, of sixteen yards each, besides beads and brass wire, knowing that refusal involves war, which might end in the loss of all they possess. The Zulus appear to keep as sharp a look out on the Senna and Shupanga people as ever landlord did on tenant; the more they cultivate, the more tribute they have to pay. On asking some of them why they did not endeavour to raise certain highly profitable products, we were answered, "What's the use of our cultivating any more than we do? the Landeens would only come down on us for more tribute." In the forests of Shupanga the Mokundu-kundu tree abounds; its bright yellow wood makes good boat-masts, and yields a strong bitter medicine for fever; the Gunda-tree attains to an immense size; its timber is hard, rather cross-grained, with masses of silica deposited in its substance; the large canoes, capable of carrying three or four tons, are made of its wood. For permission to cut these trees, a Portuguese gentleman of Quillimane was paying the Zulus, in 1858, two hundred dollars a year, and his successor now pays three hundred. At Shupanga, a one-storied stone house stands on the prettiest site on the river. In front a sloping lawn, with a fine mango orchard at its southern end, leads down to the broad Zambesi, whose green islands repose on the sunny bosom of the tranquil waters. Beyond, northwards, lie vast fields and forests of palm and tropical trees, with the massive mountain of Morambala towering amidst the white clouds; and further away more distant hills appear in the blue horizon. This beautifully situated house possesses a melancholy interest from having been associated in a most mournful manner with the history of two English expeditions. Here, in 1826, poor Kirkpatrick, of Captain Owen's Surveying Expedition, died of fever; and here, in 1862, died, of the same fatal disease, the beloved wife of Dr. Livingstone. A hundred yards east of the house, under a large Baobab-tree, far from their native land, both are buried. The Shupanga-house was the head-quarters of the Governor during the Mariano war. He told us that the province of Mosambique costs the Home Government between 5000_l_. and 6000_l_. annually, and East Africa yields no reward in return to the mother country. We met there several other influential Portuguese. All seemed friendly, and expressed their willingness to assist the expedition in every way in their power; and better still, Colonel Nunes and Major Sicard put their good-will into action, by cutting wood for the steamer and sending men to help in unloading. It was observable that not one of them knew anything about the Kongone Mouth; all thought that we had come in by the "Barra Catrina," or East Luabo. Dr. Kirk remained here a few weeks; and, besides exploring a small lake twenty miles to the south-west, had the sole medical care of the sick and wounded soldiers, for which valuable services he received the thanks of the Portuguese Government. We wooded up at this place with African ebony or black wood, and lignum vitae; the latter tree attains an immense size, sometimes as much as four feet in diameter; our engineer, knowing what ebony and lignum vitae cost at home, said it made his heart sore to burn wood so valuable. Though botanically different, they are extremely alike; the black wood as grown in some districts is superior, and the lignum vitae inferior in quality, to these timbers brought from other countries. Caoutchouc, or India-rubber, is found in abundance inland from Shupanga-house, and calumba-root is plentiful in the district; indigo, in quantities, propagates itself close to the banks of the Aver, and was probably at some time cultivated, for manufactured indigo was once exported. The India-rubber is made into balls for a game resembling "fives," and calumba-root is said to be used as a mordant for certain colours, but not as a dye itself. We started for Tette on the 17th August, 1858; the navigation was rather difficult, the Zambesi from Shupanga to Senna being wide and full of islands; our black pilot, John Scisssors, a serf, sometimes took the wrong channel and ran us aground. Nothing abashed, he would exclaim in an aggrieved tone, "This is not the path, it is back yonder." "Then why didn't you go yonder at first?" growled out our Kroomen, who had the work of getting the vessel off. When they spoke roughly to poor Scissors, the weak cringing slave-spirit came forth in, "Those men scold me so, I am ready to run away." This mode of finishing up an engagement is not at all uncommon on the Zambesi; several cases occurred, when we were on the river, of hired crews decamping with most of the goods in their charge. If the trader cannot redress his own wrongs, he has to endure them. The Landeens will not surrender a fugitive slave, even to his master. One belonging to Mr. Azevedo fled, and was, as a great favour only, returned after a present of much more than his value. We landed to wood at Shamoara, just below the confluence of the Shire. Its quartz hills are covered with trees and gigantic grasses; the buaze, a small forest-tree, grows abundantly; it is a species of polygala; its beautiful clusters of sweet-scented pinkish flowers perfume the air with a rich fragrance; its seeds produce a fine drying oil, and the bark of the smaller branches yields a fibre finer and stronger than flax; with which the natives make their nets for fishing. Bonga, the brother of the rebel Mariano, and now at the head of the revolted natives, with some of his principal men came to see us, and were perfectly friendly, though told of our having carried the sick Governor across to Shupanga, and of our having cured him of fever. On our acquainting Bonga with the object of the expedition, he remarked that we should suffer no hindrance from his people in our good work. He sent us a present of rice, two sheep, and a quantity of firewood. He never tried to make any use of us in the strife; the other side showed less confidence, by carefully cross-questioning our pilot whether we had sold any powder to the enemy. We managed, however, to keep on good terms with both rebels and Portuguese. Senna is built on a low plain, on the right bank of the Zambesi, with some pretty detached hills in the background; it is surrounded by a stockade of living trees to protect its inhabitants from their troublesome and rebellious neighbours. It contains a few large houses, some ruins of others, and a weather-beaten cross, where once stood a church; a mound shows the site of an ancient monastery, and a mud fort by the river is so dilapidated, that cows were grazing peacefully over its prostrate walls. The few Senna merchants, having little or no trade in the village, send parties of trusted slaves into the interior to hunt for and purchase ivory. It is a dull place, and very conducive to sleep. One is sure to take fever in Senna on the second day, if by chance one escapes it on the first day of a sojourn there; but no place is entirely bad. Senna has one redeeming feature: it is the native village of the large-hearted and hospitable Senhor H. A. Ferrao. The benevolence of this gentleman is unbounded. The poor black stranger passing through the town goes to him almost as a matter of course for food, and is never sent away hungry. In times of famine the starving natives are fed by his generosity; hundreds of his own people he never sees except on these occasions; and the only benefit derived from being their master is, that they lean on him as a patriarchal chief, and he has the satisfaction of settling their differences, and of saving their lives in seasons of drought and scarcity. Senhor Ferrao received us with his usual kindness, and gave us a bountiful breakfast. During the day the principal men of the place called, and were unanimously of opinion that the free natives would willingly cultivate large quantities of cotton, could they find purchasers. They had in former times exported largely both cotton and cloth to Manica and even to Brazil. "On their own soil," they declared, "the natives are willing to labour and trade, provided only they can do so to advantage: when it is for their interest, blacks work very hard." We often remarked subsequently that this was the opinion of men of energy; and that all settlers of activity, enterprise, and sober habits had become rich, while those who were much addicted to lying on their backs smoking, invariably complained of the laziness of the negroes, and were poor, proud, and despicable. Beyond Pita lies the little island Nyamotobsi, where we met a small fugitive tribe of hippopotamus hunters, who had been driven by war from their own island in front. All were busy at work; some were making gigantic baskets for grain, the men plaiting from the inside. With the civility so common among them the chief ordered a mat to be spread for us under a shed, and then showed us the weapon with which they kill the hippopotamus; it is a short iron harpoon inserted in the end of a long pole, but being intended to unship, it is made fast to a strong cord of milola, or hibiscus, bark, which is wound closely round the entire length of the shaft, and secured at its opposite end. Two men in a swift canoe steal quietly down on the sleeping animal. The bowman dashes the harpoon into the unconscious victim, while the quick steersman sweeps the light craft back with his broad paddle; the force of the blow separates the harpoon from its corded handle, which, appearing on the surface, sometimes with an inflated bladder attached, guides the hunters to where the wounded beast hides below until they despatch it. These hippopotamus hunters form a separate people, called Akombwi, or Mapodzo, and rarely--the women it is said never--intermarry with any other tribe. The reason for their keeping aloof from certain of the natives on the Zambesi is obvious enough, some having as great an abhorrence of hippopotamus meat as Mahomedans have of swine's flesh. Our pilot, Scissors, was one of this class; he would not even cook his food in a pot which had contained hippopotamus meat, preferring to go hungry till he could find another; and yet he traded eagerly in the animal's tusks, and ate with great relish the flesh of the foul-feeding marabout. These hunters go out frequently on long expeditions, taking in their canoes their wives and children, cooking-pots, and sleeping-mats. When they reach a good game district, they erect temporary huts on the bank, and there dry the meat they have killed. They are rather a comely-looking race, with very black smooth skins, and never disfigure themselves with the frightful ornaments of some of the other tribes. The chief declined to sell a harpoon, because they could not now get the milola bark from the coast on account of Mariano's war. He expressed some doubts about our being children of the same Almighty Father, remarking that "they could not become white, let them wash ever so much." We made him a present of a bit of cloth, and he very generously gave us in return some fine fresh fish and Indian corn. The heat of the weather steadily increases during this month (August), and foggy mornings are now rare. A strong breeze ending in a gale blows up stream every night. It came in the afternoon a few weeks ago, then later, and at present its arrival is near midnight; it makes our frail cabin-doors fly open before it, but continues only for a short time, and is succeeded by a dead calm. Game becomes more abundant; near our wooding-places we see herds of zebras, both Burchell's and the mountain variety, pallahs (_Antelope melampus_), waterbuck, and wild hogs, with the spoor of buffaloes and elephants. Shiramba Dembe, on the right bank, is deserted; a few old iron guns show where a rebel stockade once stood; near the river above this, stands a magnificent Baobab hollowed out into a good-sized hut, with bark inside as well as without. The old oaks in Sherwood Forest, when hollow, have the inside dead or rotten; but the Baobab, though stripped of its bark outside, and hollowed to a cavity inside, has the power of exuding new bark from its substance to both the outer and inner surfaces; so, a hut made like that in the oak called the "Forest Queen," in Sherwood, would soon all be lined with bark. The portions of the river called Shigogo and Shipanga are bordered by a low level expanse of marshy country, with occasional clumps of palm-trees and a few thorny acacias. The river itself spreads out to a width of from three to four miles, with many islands, among which it is difficult to navigate, except when the river is in flood. In front, a range of high hills from the north-east crosses and compresses it into a deep narrow channel, called the Lupata Gorge. The Portuguese thought the steamer would not stem the current here; but as it was not more than about three knots, and as there was a strong breeze in our favour, steam and sails got her through with ease. Heavy-laden canoes take two days to go up this pass. A current sweeps round the little rocky promontories Chifura and Kangomba, forming whirlpools and eddies dangerous for the clumsy craft, which are dragged past with long ropes. The paddlers place meal on these rocks as an offering to the turbulent deities, which they believe preside over spots fatal to many a large canoe. We were slily told that native Portuguese take off their hats to these river gods, and pass in solemn silence; when safely beyond the promontories, they fire muskets, and, as we ought to do, give the canoe- men grog. From the spoor of buffaloes and elephants it appears that these animals frequent Lupata in considerable numbers, and--we have often observed the association--the tsetse fly is common. A horse for the Governor of Tette was sent in a canoe from Quillimane; and, lest it should be wrecked on the Chifura and Kangomba rocks, it was put on shore and sent in the daytime through the pass. It was of course bitten by the tsetse, and died soon after; it was thought that the _air_ of Tette had not agreed with it. The currents above Lupata are stronger than those below; the country becomes more picturesque and hilly, and there is a larger population. The ship anchored in the stream, off Tette, on the 8th September, 1858, and Dr. Livingstone went ashore in the boat. No sooner did the Makololo recognize him, than they rushed to the water's edge, and manifested great joy at seeing him again. Some were hastening to embrace him, but others cried out, "Don't touch him, you will spoil his new clothes." The five headmen came on board and listened in quiet sadness to the story of poor Sekwebu, who died at the Mauritius on his way to England. "Men die in any country," they observed, and then told us that thirty of their own number had died of smallpox, having been bewitched by the people of Tette, who envied them because, during the first year, none of their party had died. Six of their young men, becoming tired of cutting firewood for a meagre pittance, proposed to go and dance for gain before some of the neighbouring chiefs. "Don't go," said the others, "we don't know the people of this country;" but the young men set out and visited an independent half-caste chief, a few miles to the north, named Chisaka, who some years ago burned all the Portuguese villas on the north bank of the river; afterwards the young men went to Bonga, son of another half- caste chief, who bade defiance to the Tette authorities, and had a stockade at the confluence of the Zambesi and Luenya, a few miles below that village. Asking the Makololo whence they came, Bonga rejoined, "Why do you come from my enemy to me? You have brought witchcraft medicine to kill me." In vain they protested that they did not belong to the country; they were strangers, and had come from afar with an Englishman. The superstitious savage put them all to death. "We do not grieve," said their companions, "for the thirty victims of the smallpox, who were taken away by Morimo (God); but our hearts are sore for the six youths who were murdered by Bonga." Any hope of obtaining justice on the murderer was out of the question. Bonga once caught a captain of the Portuguese army, and forced him to perform the menial labour of pounding maize in a wooden mortar. No punishment followed on this outrage. The Government of Lisbon has since given Bonga the honorary title of Captain, by way of coaxing him to own their authority; but he still holds his stockade. Tette stands on a succession of low sandstone ridges on the right bank of the Zambesi, which is here nearly a thousand yards wide (960 yards). Shallow ravines, running parallel with the river, form the streets, the houses being built on the ridges. The whole surface of the streets, except narrow footpaths, were overrun with self-sown indigo, and tons of it might have been collected. In fact indigo, senna, and stramonium, with a species of cassia, form the weeds of the place, which are annually hoed off and burned. A wall of stone and mud surrounds the village, and the native population live in huts outside. The fort and the church, near the river, are the strongholds; the natives having a salutary dread of the guns of the one, and a superstitious fear of the unknown power of the other. The number of white inhabitants is small, and rather select, many of them having been considerately sent out of Portugal "for their country's good." The military element preponderates in society; the convict and "incorrigible" class of soldiers, receiving very little pay, depend in great measure on the produce of the gardens of their black wives; the moral condition of the resulting population may be imagined. Droughts are of frequent occurrence at Tette, and the crops suffer severely. This may arise partly from the position of the town between the ranges of hills north and south, which appear to have a strong attraction for the rain-clouds. It is often seen to rain on these hills when not a drop falls at Tette. Our first season was one of drought. Thrice had the women planted their gardens in vain, the seed, after just vegetating, was killed by the intense dry heat. A fourth planting shared the same hard fate, and then some of the knowing ones discovered the cause of the clouds being frightened away: our unlucky rain-gauge in the garden. We got a bad name through that same rain-gauge, and were regarded by many as a species of evil omen. The Makololo in turn blamed the people of Tette for drought: "A number of witches live here, who won't let it rain." Africans in general are sufficiently superstitious, but those of Tette are in this particular pre-eminent above their fellows. Coming from many different tribes, all the rays of the separate superstitions converge into a focus at Tette, and burn out common sense from the minds of the mixed breed. They believe that many evil spirits live in the air, the earth, and the water. These invisible malicious beings are thought to inflict much suffering on the human race; but, as they have a weakness for beer and a craving for food, they may be propitiated from time to time by offerings of meat and drink. The serpent is an object of worship, and hideous little images are hung in the huts of the sick and dying. The uncontaminated Africans believe that Morungo, the Great Spirit who formed all things, lives above the stars; but they never pray to him, and know nothing of their relation to him, or of his interest in them. The spirits of their departed ancestors are all good, according to their ideas, and on special occasions aid them in their enterprises. When a man has his hair cut, he is careful to burn it, or bury it secretly, lest, falling into the hands of one who has an evil eye, or is a witch, it should be used as a charm to afflict him with headache. They believe, too, that they will live after the death of the body, but do not know anything of the state of the Barimo (gods, or departed spirits). The mango-tree grows luxuriantly above Lupata, and furnishes a grateful shade. Its delicious fruit is superior to that on the coast. For weeks the natives who have charge of the mangoes live entirely on the fruit, and, as some trees bear in November and some in March, while the main crop comes between, fruit in abundance may easily be obtained during four months of the year; but no native can be induced to plant a mango. A wide-spread superstition has become riveted in the native mind, that if any one plants this tree he will soon die. The Makololo, like other natives, were very fond of the fruit; but when told to take up some mango- stones, on their return, and plant them in their own country--they too having become deeply imbued with the belief that it was a suicidal act to do so--replied "they did not wish to die too soon." There is also a superstition even among the native Portuguese of Tette, that if a man plants coffee he will never afterwards be happy: they drink it, however, and seem the happier for it. The Portuguese of Tette have many slaves, with all the usual vices of their class, as theft, lying, and impurity. As a general rule the real Portuguese are tolerably humane masters and rarely treat a slave cruelly; this may be due as much to natural kindness of heart as to a fear of losing the slaves by their running away. When they purchase an adult slave they buy at the same time, if possible, all his relations along with him. They thus contrive to secure him to his new home by domestic ties. Running away then would be to forsake all who hold a place in his heart, for the mere chance of acquiring a freedom, which would probably be forfeited on his entrance into the first native village, for the chief might, without compunction, again sell him into slavery. A rather singular case of voluntary slavery came to our knowledge: a free black, an intelligent active young fellow, called Chibanti, who had been our pilot on the river, told us that he had sold himself into slavery. On asking why he had done this, he replied that he was all alone in the world, had neither father nor mother, nor any one else to give him water when sick, or food when hungry; so he sold himself to Major Sicard, a notoriously kind master, whose slaves had little to do, and plenty to eat. "And how much did you get for yourself?" we asked. "Three thirty- yard pieces of cotton cloth," he replied; "and I forthwith bought a man, a woman, and child, who cost me two of the pieces, and I had one piece left." This, at all events, showed a cool and calculating spirit; he afterwards bought more slaves, and in two years owned a sufficient number to man one of the large canoes. His master subsequently employed him in carrying ivory to Quillimane, and gave him cloth to hire mariners for the voyage; he took his own slaves, of course, and thus drove a thriving business; and was fully convinced that he had made a good speculation by the sale of himself, for had he been sick his master must have supported him. Occasionally some of the free blacks become slaves voluntarily by going through the simple but significant ceremony of breaking a spear in the presence of their future master. A Portuguese officer, since dead, persuaded one of the Makololo to remain in Tette, instead of returning to his own country, and tried also to induce him to break a spear before him, and thus acknowledge himself his slave, but the man was too shrewd for this; he was a great elephant doctor, who accompanied the hunters, told them when to attack the huge beast, and gave them medicine to ensure success. Unlike the real Portuguese, many of the half-castes are merciless slave-holders; their brutal treatment of the wretched slaves is notorious. What a humane native of Portugal once said of them is appropriate if not true: "God made white men, and God made black men, but the devil made half-castes." The officers and merchants send parties of slaves under faithful headmen to hunt elephants and to trade in ivory, providing them with a certain quantity of cloth, beads, etc., and requiring so much ivory in return. These slaves think that they have made a good thing of it, when they kill an elephant near a village, as the natives give them beer and meal in exchange for some of the elephant's meat, and over every tusk that is brought there is expended a vast amount of time, talk, and beer. Most of the Africans are natural-born traders, they love trade more for the sake of trading than for what they make by it. An intelligent gentleman of Tette told us that native traders often come to him with a tusk for sale, consider the price he offers, demand more, talk over it, retire to consult about it, and at length go away without selling it; next day they try another merchant, talk, consider, get puzzled and go off as on the previous day, and continue this course daily until they have perhaps seen every merchant in the village, and then at last end by selling the precious tusk to some one for even less than the first merchant had offered. Their love of dawdling in the transaction arises from the self- importance conferred on them by their being the object of the wheedling and coaxing of eager merchants, a feeling to which even the love of gain is subordinate. The native medical profession is reasonably well represented. In addition to the regular practitioners, who are a really useful class, and know something of their profession, and the nature and power of certain medicines, there are others who devote their talents to some speciality. The elephant doctor prepares a medicine which is considered indispensable to the hunters when attacking that noble and sagacious beast; no hunter is willing to venture out before investing in this precious nostrum. The crocodile doctor sells a charm which is believed to possess the singular virtue of protecting its owner from crocodiles. Unwittingly we offended the crocodile school of medicine while at Tette, by shooting one of these huge reptiles as it lay basking in the sun on a sandbank; the doctors came to the Makololo in wrath, clamouring to know why the white man had shot their crocodile. A shark's hook was baited one evening with a dog, of which the crocodile is said to be particularly fond; but the doctors removed the bait, on the principle that the more crocodiles the more demand for medicine, or perhaps because they preferred to eat the dog themselves. Many of the natives of this quarter are known, as in the South Seas, to eat the dog without paying any attention to its feeding. The dice doctor or diviner is an important member of the community, being consulted by Portuguese and natives alike. Part of his business is that of a detective, it being his duty to discover thieves. When goods are stolen, he goes and looks at the place, casts his dice, and waits a few days, and then, for a consideration, tells who is the thief: he is generally correct, for he trusts not to his dice alone; he has confidential agents all over the village, by whose inquiries and information he is enabled to detect the culprit. Since the introduction of muskets, gun doctors have sprung up, and they sell the medicine which professes to make good marksmen; others are rain doctors, etc., etc. The various schools deal in little charms, which are hung round the purchaser's neck to avert evil: some of them contain the medicine, others increase its power. Indigo, about three or four feet high, grows in great luxuriance in the streets of Tette, and so does the senna plant. The leaves are undistinguishable from those imported in England. A small amount of first-rate cotton is cultivated by the native population for the manufacture of a coarse cloth. A neighbouring tribe raises the sugar- cane, and makes a little sugar; but they use most primitive wooden rollers, and having no skill in mixing lime with the extracted juice, the product is of course of very inferior quality. Plenty of magnetic iron ore is found near Tette, and coal also to any amount; a single cliff-seam measuring twenty-five feet in thickness. It was found to burn well in the steamer on the first trial. Gold is washed for in the beds of rivers, within a couple of days of Tette. The natives are fully aware of its value, but seldom search for it, and never dig deeper than four or five feet. They dread lest the falling in of the sand of the river's bed should bury them. In former times, when traders went with hundreds of slaves to the washings, the produce was considerable. It is now insignificant. The gold-producing lands have always been in the hands of independent tribes. Deep cuttings near the sources of the gold-yielding streams seem never to have been tried here, as in California and Australia, nor has any machinery been used save common wooden basins for washing. CHAPTER II. Kebrabasa Rapids--Tette--African fever--Exploration of the Shire--Discovery of Lake Shirwa. Our curiosity had been so much excited by the reports we had heard of the Kebrabasa rapids, that we resolved to make a short examination of them, and seized the opportunity of the Zambesi being unusually low, to endeavour to ascertain their character while uncovered by the water. We reached them on the 9th of November. The country between Tette and Panda Mokua, where navigation ends, is well wooded and hilly on both banks. Panda Mokua is a hill two miles below the rapids, capped with dolomite containing copper ore. Conspicuous among the trees, for its gigantic size, and bark coloured exactly like Egyptian syenite, is the burly Baobab. It often makes the other trees of the forest look like mere bushes in comparison. A hollow one, already mentioned, is 74 feet in circumference, another was 84, and some have been found on the West Coast which measure 100 feet. The lofty range of Kebrabasa, consisting chiefly of conical hills, covered with scraggy trees, crosses the Zambesi, and confines it within a narrow, rough, and rocky dell of about a quarter of a mile in breadth; over this, which may be called the flood-bed of the river, large masses of rock are huddled in indescribable confusion. The drawing, for the use of which, and of others, our thanks are due to Lord Russell, conveys but a faint idea of the scene, inasmuch as the hills which confine the river do not appear in the sketch. The chief rock is syenite, some portions of which have a beautiful blue tinge like _lapis lazuli_ diffused through them; others are grey. Blocks of granite also abound, of a pinkish tinge; and these with metamorphic rocks, contorted, twisted, and thrown into every conceivable position, afford a picture of dislocation or unconformability which would gladden a geological lecturer's heart; but at high flood this rough channel is all smoothed over, and it then conforms well with the river below it, which is half a mile wide. In the dry season the stream runs at the bottom of a narrow and deep groove, whose sides are polished and fluted by the boiling action of the water in flood, like the rims of ancient Eastern wells by the draw-ropes. The breadth of the groove is often not more than from forty to sixty yards, and it has some sharp turnings, double channels, and little cataracts in it. As we steamed up, the masts of the "Ma Robert," though some thirty feet high, did not reach the level of the flood-channel above, and the man in the chains sung out, "No bottom at ten fathoms." Huge pot-holes, as large as draw-wells, had been worn in the sides, and were so deep that in some instances, when protected from the sun by overhanging boulders, the water in them was quite cool. Some of these holes had been worn right through, and only the side next the rock remained; while the sides of the groove of the flood-channel were polished as smooth as if they had gone through the granite-mills of Aberdeen. The pressure of the water must be enormous to produce this polish. It had wedged round pebbles into chinks and crannies of the rocks so firmly that, though they looked quite loose, they could not be moved except with a hammer. The mighty power of the water here seen gave us an idea of what is going on in thousands of cataracts in the world. All the information we had been able to obtain from our Portuguese friends amounted to this, that some three or four detached rocks jutted out of the river in Kebrabasa, which, though dangerous to the cumbersome native canoes, could be easily passed by a steamer, and that if one or two of these obstructions were blasted away with gunpowder, no difficulty would hereafter be experienced. After we had painfully explored seven or eight miles of the rapid, we returned to the vessel satisfied that much greater labour was requisite for the mere examination of the cataracts than our friends supposed necessary to remove them; we therefore went down the river for fresh supplies, and made preparation for a more serious survey of this region. The steamer having returned from the bar, we set out on the 22nd of November to examine the rapids of Kebrabasa. We reached the foot of the hills again, late in the afternoon of the 24th, and anchored in the stream. Canoe-men never sleep on the river, but always spend the night on shore. The natives on the right bank, in the country called Shidima, who are Banyai, and even at this short distance from Tette, independent, and accustomed to lord it over Portuguese traders, wondered what could be our object in remaining afloat, and were naturally suspicious at our departing from the universal custom. They hailed us from the bank in the evening with "Why don't you come and sleep onshore like other people?" The answer they received from our Makololo, who now felt as independent as the Banyai, was, "We are held to the bottom with iron; you may see we are not like your Bazungu." This hint, a little amplified, saved us from the usual exactions. It is pleasant to give a present, but that pleasure the Banyai usually deny to strangers by making it a fine, and demanding it in such a supercilious way, that only a sorely cowed trader could bear it. They often refuse to touch what is offered--throw it down and leave it--sneer at the trader's slaves, and refuse a passage until the tribute is raised to the utmost extent of his means. Leaving the steamer next morning, we proceeded on foot, accompanied by a native Portuguese and his men and a dozen Makololo, who carried our baggage. The morning was pleasant, the hills on our right furnished for a time a delightful shade; but before long the path grew frightfully rough, and the hills no longer shielded us from the blazing sun. Scarcely a vestige of a track was now visible; and, indeed, had not our guide assured us to the contrary, we should have been innocent of even the suspicion of a way along the patches of soft yielding sand, and on the great rocks over which we so painfully clambered. These rocks have a singular appearance, from being dislocated and twisted in every direction, and covered with a thin black glaze, as if highly polished and coated with lamp-black varnish. This seems to have been deposited while the river was in flood, for it covers only those rocks which lie between the highest water-mark and a line about four feet above the lowest. Travellers who have visited the rapids of the Orinoco and the Congo say that the rocks there have a similar appearance, and it is attributed to some deposit from the water, formed only when the current is strong. This may account for it in part here, as it prevails only where the narrow river is confined between masses of rock, backed by high hills, and where the current in floods is known to be the strongest; and it does not exist where the rocks are only on one side, with a sandy beach opposite, and a broad expanse of river between. The hot rocks burnt the thick soles of our men's feet, and sorely fatigued ourselves. Our first day's march did not exceed four miles in a straight line, and that we found more than enough to be pleasant. The state of insecurity in which the Badema tribe live is indicated by the habit of hiding their provisions in the hills, and keeping only a small quantity in their huts; they strip a particular species of tree of its bitter bark, to which both mice and monkeys are known to have an antipathy, and, turning the bark inside out, sew it into cylindrical vessels for their grain, and bury them in holes and in crags on the wooded hill-sides. By this means, should a marauding party plunder their huts, they save a supply of corn. They "could give us no information, and they had no food; Chisaka's men had robbed them a few weeks before." "Never mind," said our native Portuguese, "they will sell you plenty when you return, they are afraid of you now, as yet they do not know who you are." We slept under trees in the open air, and suffered no inconvenience from either mosquitoes or dew: and no prowling wild beast troubled us; though one evening, while we were here, a native sitting with some others on the opposite bank was killed by a leopard. One of the Tette slaves, who wished to be considered a great traveller, gave us, as we sat by our evening fire, an interesting account of a strange race of men whom he had seen in the interior; they were only three feet high, and had horns growing out of their heads; they lived in a large town and had plenty of food. The Makololo pooh-poohed this story, and roundly told the narrator that he was telling a downright lie. "_We_ come from the interior," cried out a tall fellow, measuring some six feet four, "are _we_ dwarfs? have _we_ horns on our heads?" and thus they laughed the fellow to scorn. But he still stoutly maintained that he had seen these little people, and had actually been in their town; thus making himself the hero of the traditional story, which before and since the time of Herodotus has, with curious persistency, clung to the native mind. The mere fact that such absurd notions are permanent, even in the entire absence of literature, invests the religious ideas of these people also with importance, as fragments of the wreck of the primitive faith floating down the stream of time. We waded across the rapid Luia, which took us up to the waist, and was about forty yards wide. The water was discoloured at the time, and we were not without apprehension that a crocodile might chance to fancy a white man for dinner. Next day one of the men crawled over the black rocks to within ten yards of a sleeping hippopotamus, and shot him through the brain. The weather being warm, the body floated in a few hours, and some of us had our first trial of hippopotamus flesh. It is a cross-grained meat, something between pork and beef,--pretty good food when one is hungry and can get nothing better. When we reached the foot of the mountain named Chipereziwa, whose perpendicular rocky sides are clothed with many-coloured lichens, our Portuguese companion informed us there were no more obstructions to navigation, the river being all smooth above; he had hunted there and knew it well. Supposing that the object of our trip was accomplished we turned back; but two natives, who came to our camp at night, assured us that a cataract, called Morumbwa, did still exist in front. Drs. Livingstone and Kirk then decided to go forward with three Makololo and settle the question for themselves. It was as tough a bit of travel as they ever had in Africa, and after some painful marching the Badema guides refused to go further; "the Banyai," they said, "would be angry if they showed white men the country; and there was besides no practicable approach to the spot, neither elephant, nor hippopotamus, nor even a crocodile could reach the cataract." The slopes of the mountains on each side of the river, now not 300 yards wide, and without the flattish flood-channel and groove, were more than 3000 feet from the sky-line down, and were covered either with dense thornbush or huge black boulders; this deep trough-like shape caused the sun's rays to converge as into a focus, making the surface so hot that the soles of the feet of the Makololo became blistered. Around, and up and down, the party clambered among these heated blocks, at a pace not exceeding a mile an hour; the strain upon the muscles in jumping from crag to boulder, and wriggling round projections, took an enormous deal out of them, and they were often glad to cower in the shadow formed by one rock overhanging and resting on another; the shelter induced the peculiarly strong and overpowering inclination to sleep, which too much sun sometimes causes. This sleep is curative of what may be incipient sunstroke: in its first gentle touches, it caused the dream to flit over the boiling brain, that they had become lunatics and had been sworn in as members of the Alpine club; and then it became so heavy that it made them feel as if a portion of existence had been cut out from their lives. The sun is excessively hot, and feels sharp in Africa; but, probably from the greater dryness of the atmosphere, we never heard of a single case of sunstroke, so common in India. The Makololo told Dr. Livingstone they "always thought he had a heart, but now they believed he had none," and tried to persuade Dr. Kirk to return, on the ground that it must be evident that, in attempting to go where no living foot could tread, his leader had given unmistakeable signs of having gone mad. All their efforts of persuasion, however, were lost upon Dr. Kirk, as he had not yet learned their language, and his leader, knowing his companion to be equally anxious with himself to solve the problem of the navigableness of Kebrabasa, was not at pains to enlighten him. At one part a bare mountain spur barred the way, and had to be surmounted by a perilous and circuitous route, along which the crags were so hot that it was scarcely possible for the hand to hold on long enough to ensure safety in the passage; and had the foremost of the party lost his hold, he would have hurled all behind him into the river at the foot of the promontory; yet in this wild hot region, as they descended again to the river, they met a fisherman casting his hand-net into the boiling eddies, and he pointed out the cataract of Morumbwa; within an hour they were trying to measure it from an overhanging rock, at a height of about one hundred feet. When you stand facing the cataract, on the north bank, you see that it is situated in a sudden bend of the river, which is flowing in a short curve; the river above it is jammed between two mountains in a channel with perpendicular sides, and less than fifty yards wide; one or two masses of rock jut out, and then there is a sloping fall of perhaps twenty feet in a distance of thirty yards. It would stop all navigation, except during the highest floods; the rocks showed that the water then rises upwards of eighty feet perpendicularly. Still keeping the position facing the cataract, on its right side rises Mount Morumbwa from 2000 to 3000 feet high, which gives the name to the spot. On the left of the cataract stands a noticeable mountain which may be called onion-shaped, for it is partly conical and a large concave flake has peeled off, as granite often does, and left a broad, smooth convex face as if it were an enormous bulb. These two mountains extend their bases northwards about half a mile, and the river in that distance, still very narrow, is smooth, with a few detached rocks standing out from its bed. They climbed as high up the base of Mount Morumbwa, which touches the cataract, as they required. The rocks were all water-worn and smooth, with huge potholes, even at 100 feet above low water. When at a later period they climbed up the north-western base of this same mountain, the familiar face of the onion-shaped one opposite was at once recognised; one point of view on the talus of Mount Morumbwa was not more than 700 or 800 yards distant from the other, and they then completed the survey of Kebrabasa from end to end. They did not attempt to return by the way they came, but scaled the slope of the mountain on the north. It took them three hours' hard labour in cutting their way up through the dense thornbush which covered the ascent. The face of the slope was often about an angle of 70 degrees, yet their guide Shokumbenla, whose hard, horny soles, resembling those of elephants, showed that he was accustomed to this rough and hot work, carried a pot of water for them nearly all the way up. They slept that night at a well in a tufaceous rock on the N.W. of Chipereziwa, and never was sleep more sweet. A band of native musicians came to our camp one evening, on our own way down, and treated us with their wild and not unpleasant music on the Marimba, an instrument formed of bars of hard wood of varying breadth and thickness, laid on different-sized hollow calabashes, and tuned to give the notes; a few pieces of cloth pleased them, and they passed on. The rainy season of Tette differs a little from that of some of the other intertropical regions; the quantity of rain-fall being considerably less. It begins in November and ends in April. During our first season in that place, only a little over nineteen inches of rain fell. In an average year, and when the crops are good, the fall amounts to about thirty-five inches. On many days it does not rain at all, and rarely is it wet all day; some days have merely a passing shower, preceded and followed by hot sunshine; occasionally an interval of a week, or even a fortnight, passes without a drop of rain, and then the crops suffer from the sun. These partial droughts happen in December and January. The heat appears to increase to a certain point in the different latitudes so as to necessitate a change, by some law similar to that which regulates the intense cold in other countries. After several days of progressive heat here, on the hottest of which the thermometer probably reaches 103 degrees in the shade, a break occurs in the weather, and a thunderstorm cools the air for a time. At Kuruman, when the thermometer stood above 84 degrees, rain might be expected; at Kolobeng, the point at which we looked for a storm was 96 degrees. The Zambesi is in flood twice in the course of the year; the first flood, a partial one, attains its greatest height about the end of December or beginning of January; the second, and greatest, occurs after the river inundates the interior, in a manner similar to the overflow of the Nile, this rise not taking place at Tette until March. The Portuguese say that the greatest height which the March floods attain is thirty feet at Tette, and this happens only about every fourth year; their observations, however, have never been very accurate on anything but ivory, and they have in this case trusted to memory alone. The only fluviometer at Tette, or anywhere else on the river, was set up at our suggestion; and the first flood was at its greatest height of thirteen feet six inches on the 17th January, 1859, and then gradually fell a few feet, until succeeded by the greater flood of March. The river rises suddenly, the water is highly discoloured and impure, and there is a four-knot current in many places; but in a day or two after the first rush of waters is passed, the current becomes more equally spread over the whole bed of the river, and resumes its usual rate in the channel, although continuing in flood. The Zambesi water at other times is almost chemically pure, and the photographer would find that it is nearly as good as distilled water for the nitrate of silver bath. A third visit to Kebrabasa was made for the purpose of ascertaining whether it might be navigable when the Zambesi was in flood, the chief point of interest being of course Morumbwa; it was found that the rapids observed in our first trip had disappeared, and that while they were smoothed over, in a few places the current had increased in strength. As the river fell rapidly while we were on the journey, the cataract of Morumbwa did not differ materially from what it was when discovered. Some fishermen assured us that it was not visible when the river was at its fullest, and that the current was then not very strong. On this occasion we travelled on the right bank, and found it, with the additional inconvenience of rain, as rough and fatiguing as the left had been. Our progress was impeded by the tall wet grass and dripping boughs, and consequent fever. During the earlier part of the journey we came upon a few deserted hamlets only; but at last in a pleasant valley we met some of the people of the country, who were miserably poor and hungry. The women were gathering wild fruits in the woods. A young man having consented for two yards of cotton cloth to show us a short path to the cataract led us up a steep hill to a village perched on the edge of one of its precipices; a thunderstorm coming on at the time, the headman invited us to take shelter in a hut until it had passed. Our guide having informed him of what he knew and conceived to be our object, was favoured in return with a long reply in well-sounding blank verse; at the end of every line the guide, who listened with deep attention, responded with a grunt, which soon became so ludicrous that our men burst into a loud laugh. Neither the poet nor the responsive guide took the slightest notice of their rudeness, but kept on as energetically as ever to the end. The speech, or more probably our bad manners, made some impression on our guide, for he declined, although offered double pay, to go any further. A great deal of fever comes in with March and April; in March, if considerable intervals take place between the rainy days, and in April always, for then large surfaces of mud and decaying vegetation are exposed to the hot sun. In general an attack does not continue long, but it pulls one down quickly; though when the fever is checked the strength is as quickly restored. It had long been observed that those who were stationed for any length of time in one spot, and lived sedentary lives, suffered more from fever than others who moved about and had both mind and body occupied; but we could not all go in the small vessel when she made her trips, during which the change of place and scenery proved so conducive to health; and some of us were obliged to remain in charge of the expedition's property, making occasional branch trips to examine objects of interest in the vicinity. Whatever may be the cause of the fever, we observed that all were often affected at the same time, as if from malaria. This was particularly the case during a north wind: it was at first commonly believed that a daily dose of quinine would prevent the attack. For a number of months all our men, except two, took quinine regularly every morning. The fever some times attacked the believers in quinine, while the unbelievers in its prophylactic powers escaped. Whether we took it daily, or omitted it altogether for months, made no difference; the fever was impartial, and seized us on the days of quinine as regularly and as severely as when it remained undisturbed in the medicine chest, and we finally abandoned the use of it as a prophylactic altogether. The best preventive against fever is plenty of interesting work to do, and abundance of wholesome food to eat. To a man well housed and clothed, who enjoys these advantages, the fever at Tette will not prove a more formidable enemy than a common cold; but let one of these be wanting--let him be indolent, or guilty of excesses in eating or drinking, or have poor, scanty fare,--and the fever will probably become a more serious matter. It is of a milder type at Tette than at Quillimane or on the low sea-coast; and, as in this part of Africa one is as liable to fever as to colds in England, it would be advisable for strangers always to hasten from the coast to the high lands, in order that when the seizure does take place, it may be of the mildest type. Although quinine was not found to be a preventive, except possibly in the way of acting as a tonic, and rendering the system more able to resist the influence of malaria, it was found invaluable in the cure of the complaint, as soon as pains in the back, sore bones, headache, yawning, quick and sometimes intermittent pulse, noticeable pulsations of the jugulars, with suffused eyes, hot skin, and foul tongue, began. {1} Very curious are the effects of African fever on certain minds. Cheerfulness vanishes, and the whole mental horizon is overcast with black clouds of gloom and sadness. The liveliest joke cannot provoke even the semblance of a smile. The countenance is grave, the eyes suffused, and the few utterances are made in the piping voice of a wailing infant. An irritable temper is often the first symptom of approaching fever. At such times a man feels very much like a fool, if he does not act like one. Nothing is right, nothing pleases the fever- stricken victim. He is peevish, prone to find fault and to contradict, and think himself insulted, and is exactly what an Irish naval surgeon before a court-martial defined a drunken man to be: "a man unfit for society." Finding that it was impossible to take our steamer of only ten-horse power through Kebrabasa, and convinced that, in order to force a passage when the river was in flood, much greater power was required, due information was forwarded to Her Majesty's Government, and application made for a more suitable vessel. Our attention was in the mean time turned to the exploration of the river Shire, a northern tributary of the Zambesi, which joins it about a hundred miles from the sea. We could learn nothing satisfactory from the Portuguese regarding this affluent; no one, they said, had ever been up it, nor could they tell whence it came. Years ago a Portuguese expedition is said, however, to have attempted the ascent, but to have abandoned it on account of the impenetrable duckweed (_Pistia stratiotes_.) We could not learn from any record that the Shire had ever been ascended by Europeans. As far, therefore, as we were concerned, the exploration was absolutely new. All the Portuguese believed the Manganja to be brave but bloodthirsty savages; and on our return we found that soon after our departure a report was widely spread that our temerity had been followed by fatal results, Dr. Livingstone having been shot, and Dr. Kirk mortally wounded by poisoned arrows. Our first trip to the Shire was in January, 1859. A considerable quantity of weed floated down the river for the first twenty-five miles, but not sufficient to interrupt navigation with canoes or with any other craft. Nearly the whole of this aquatic plant proceeds from a marsh on the west, and comes into the river a little beyond a lofty hill called Mount Morambala. Above that there is hardly any. As we approached the villages, the natives collected in large numbers, armed with bows and poisoned arrows; and some, dodging behind trees, were observed taking aim as if on the point of shooting. All the women had been sent out of the way, and the men were evidently prepared to resist aggression. At the village of a chief named Tingane, at least five hundred natives collected and ordered us to stop. Dr. Livingstone went ashore; and on his explaining that we were English and had come neither to take slaves nor to fight, but only to open a path by which our countrymen might follow to purchase cotton, or whatever else they might have to sell, except slaves, Tingane became at once quite friendly. The presence of the steamer, which showed that they had an entirely new people to deal with, probably contributed to this result; for Tingane was notorious for being the barrier to all intercourse between the Portuguese black traders and the natives further inland; none were allowed to pass him either way. He was an elderly, well-made man, grey-headed, and over six feet high. Though somewhat excited by our presence, he readily complied with the request to call his people together, in order that all might know what our objects were. In commencing intercourse with any people we almost always referred to the English detestation of slavery. Most of them already possess some information respecting the efforts made by the English at sea to suppress the slave-trade; and our work being to induce them to raise and sell cotton, instead of capturing and selling their fellow-men, our errand appears quite natural; and as they all have clear ideas of their own self- interest, and are keen traders, the reasonableness of the proposal is at once admitted; and as a belief in a Supreme Being, the Maker and Ruler of all things, and in the continued existence of departed spirits, is universal, it becomes quite appropriate to explain that we possess a Book containing a Revelation of the will of Him to whom in their natural state they recognise no relationship. The fact that His Son appeared among men, and left His words in His Book, always awakens attention; but the great difficulty is to make them feel that they have any relationship to Him, and that He feels any interest in them. The numbness of moral perception exhibited, is often discouraging; but the mode of communication, either by interpreters, or by the imperfect knowledge of the language, which not even missionaries of talent can overcome save by the labour of many years, may, in part, account for the phenomenon. However, the idea of the Father of all being displeased with His children, for selling or killing each other, at once gains their ready assent: it harmonizes so exactly with their own ideas of right and wrong. But, as in our own case at home, nothing less than the instruction and example of many years will secure their moral elevation. The dialect spoken here closely resembles that used at Senna and Tette. We understood it at first only enough to know whether our interpreter was saying what we bade him, or was indulging in his own version. After stating pretty nearly what he was told, he had an inveterate tendency to wind up with "The Book says you are to grow cotton, and the English are to come and buy it," or with some joke of his own, which might have been ludicrous, had it not been seriously distressing. In the first ascent of the Shire our attention was chiefly directed to the river itself. The delight of threading out the meanderings of upwards of 200 miles of a hitherto unexplored river must be felt to be appreciated. All the lower part of the river was found to be at least two fathoms in depth. It became shallower higher up, where many departing and re-entering branches diminished the volume of water, but the absence of sandbanks made it easy of navigation. We had to exercise the greatest care lest anything we did should be misconstrued by the crowds who watched us. After having made, in a straight line, one hundred miles, although the windings of the river had fully doubled the distance, we found further progress with the steamer arrested, in 15 degrees 55 minutes south, by magnificent cataracts, which we called, "The Murchison," after one whose name has already a world-wide fame, and whose generous kindness we can never repay. The native name of that figured in the woodcut is Mamvira. It is that at which the progress of the steamer was first stopped. The angle of descent is much smaller than that of the five cataracts above it; indeed, so small as compared with them, that after they were discovered this was not included in the number. A few days were spent here in the hope that there might be an opportunity of taking observations for longitude, but it rained most of the time, or the sky was overcast. It was deemed imprudent to risk a land journey whilst the natives were so very suspicious as to have a strong guard on the banks of the river night and day; the weather also was unfavourable. After sending presents and messages to two of the chiefs, we returned to Tette. In going down stream our progress was rapid, as we were aided by the current. The hippopotami never made a mistake, but got out of our way. The crocodiles, not so wise, sometimes rushed with great velocity at us, thinking that we were some huge animal swimming. They kept about a foot from the surface, but made three well-defined ripples from the feet and body, which marked their rapid progress; raising the head out of the water when only a few yards from the expected feast, down they went to the bottom like a stone, without touching the boat. In the middle of March of the same year (1859), we started again for a second trip on the Shire. The natives were now friendly, and readily sold us rice, fowls, and corn. We entered into amicable relations with the chief, Chibisa, whose village was about ten miles below the cataract. He had sent two men on our first visit to invite us to drink beer; but the steamer was such a terrible apparition to them, that, after shouting the invitation, they jumped ashore, and left their canoe to drift down the stream. Chibisa was a remarkably shrewd man, the very image, save his dark hue, of one of our most celebrated London actors, {2} and the most intelligent chief, by far, in this quarter. A great deal of fighting had fallen to his lot, he said; but it was always others who began; he was invariably in the right, and they alone were to blame. He was moreover a firm believer in the divine right of kings. He was an ordinary man, he said, when his father died, and left him the chieftainship; but directly he succeeded to the high office, he was conscious of power passing into his head, and down his back; he felt it enter, and knew that he was a chief, clothed with authority, and possessed of wisdom; and people then began to fear and reverence him. He mentioned this, as one would a fact of natural history, any doubt being quite out of the question. His people, too, believed in him, for they bathed in the river without the slightest fear of crocodiles, the chief having placed a powerful medicine there, which protected them from the bite of these terrible reptiles. Leaving the vessel opposite Chibisa's village, Drs. Livingstone and Kirk and a number of the Makololo started on foot for Lake Shirwa. They travelled in a northerly direction over a mountainous country. The people were far from being well-disposed to them, and some of their guides tried to mislead them, and could not be trusted. Masakasa, a Makololo headman, overheard some remarks which satisfied him that the guide was leading them into trouble. He was quiet till they reached a lonely spot, when he came up to Dr. Livingstone, and said, "That fellow is bad, he is taking us into mischief; my spear is sharp, and there is no one here; shall I cast him into the long grass?" Had the Doctor given the slightest token of assent, or even kept silence, never more would any one have been led by that guide, for in a twinkling he would have been where "the wicked cease from troubling." It was afterwards found that in this case there was no treachery at all, but a want of knowledge on their part of the language and of the country. They asked to be led to "Nyanja Mukulu," or Great Lake, meaning, by this, Lake Shirwa; and the guide took them round a terribly rough piece of mountainous country, gradually edging away towards a long marsh, which from the numbers of those animals we had seen there we had called the Elephant Marsh, but which was really the place known to him by the name "Nyanja Mukulu," or Great Lake. Nyanja or Nyanza means, generally, a marsh, lake, river, or even a mere rivulet. The party pushed on at last without guides, or only with crazy ones; for, oddly enough, they were often under great obligations to the madmen of the different villages: one of these honoured them, as they slept in the open air, by dancing and singing at their feet the whole night. These poor fellows sympathized with the explorers, probably in the belief that they belonged to their own class; and, uninfluenced by the general opinion of their countrymen, they really pitied, and took kindly to the strangers, and often guided them faithfully from place to place, when no sane man could be hired for love or money. The bearing of the Manganja at this time was very independent; a striking contrast to the cringing attitude they afterwards assumed, when the cruel scourge of slave-hunting passed over their country. Signals were given from the different villages by means of drums, and notes of defiance and intimidation were sounded in the travellers' ears by day; and occasionally they were kept awake the whole night, in expectation of an instant attack. Drs. Livingstone and Kirk were desirous that nothing should occur to make the natives regard them as enemies; Masakasa, on the other hand, was anxious to show what he could do in the way of fighting them. The perseverance of the party was finally crowned with success; for on the 18th of April they discovered Lake Shirwa, a considerable body of bitter water, containing leeches, fish, crocodiles, and hippopotami. From having probably no outlet, the water is slightly brackish, and it appears to be deep, with islands like hills rising out of it. Their point of view was at the base of Mount Pirimiti or Mopeu-peu, on its S.S.W. side. Thence the prospect northwards ended in a sea horizon with two small islands in the distance--a larger one, resembling a hill-top and covered with trees, rose more in the foreground. Ranges of hills appeared on the east; and on the west stood Mount Chikala, which seems to be connected with the great mountain-mass called Zomba. The shore, near which they spent two nights, was covered with reeds and papyrus. Wishing to obtain the latitude by the natural horizon, they waded into the water some distance towards what was reported to be a sandbank, but were so assaulted by leeches, they were fain to retreat; and a woman told them that in enticing them into the water the men only wanted to kill them. The information gathered was that this lake was nothing in size compared to another in the north, from which it is separated by only a tongue of land. The northern end of Shirwa has not been seen, though it has been passed; the length of the lake may probably be 60 or 80 miles, and about 20 broad. The height above the sea is 1800 feet, and the taste of the water is like a weak solution of Epsom salts. The country around is very beautiful, and clothed with rich vegetation; and the waves, at the time they were there breaking and foaming over a rock on the south-eastern side, added to the beauty of the picture. Exceedingly lofty mountains, perhaps 8000 feet above the sea-level, stand near the eastern shore. When their lofty steep-sided summits appear, some above, some below the clouds, the scene is grand. This range is called Milanje; on the west stands Mount Zomba, 7000 feet in height, and some twenty miles long. Their object being rather to gain the confidence of the people by degrees than to explore, they considered that they had advanced far enough into the country for one trip; and believing that they could secure their end by a repetition of their visit, as they had done on the Shire, they decided to return to the vessel at Dakanamoio island; but, instead of returning by the way they came, they passed down southwards close by Mount Chiradzuru, among the relatives of Chibisa, and thence by the pass Zedi, down to the Shire. The Kroomen had, while we were away, cut a good supply of wood for steaming, and we soon proceeded down the river. The steamer reached Tette on the 23rd of June, and, after undergoing repairs, proceeded to the Kongone to receive provisions from one of H.M. cruisers. We had been very abundantly supplied with first-rate stores, but were unfortunate enough to lose a considerable portion of them, and had now to bear the privation as best we could. On the way down, we purchased a few gigantic cabbages and pumpkins at a native village below Mazaro. Our dinners had usually consisted of but a single course; but we were surprised the next day by our black cook from Sierra Leone bearing in a second course. "What have you got there?" was asked in wonder. "A tart, sir." "A tart! of what is it made?" "Of cabbage, sir." As we had no sugar, and could not "make believe," as in the days of boyhood, we did not enjoy the feast that Tom's genius had prepared. Her Majesty's brig "Persian," Lieutenant Saumarez commanding, called on her way to the Cape; and, though somewhat short of provisions herself, generously gave us all she could spare. We now parted with our Kroomen, as, from their inability to march, we could not use them in our land journeys. A crew was picked out from the Makololo, who, besides being good travellers, could cut wood, work the ship, and required only native food. While at the Kongone it was found necessary to beach the steamer for repairs. She was built of a newly invented sort of steel plates, only a sixteenth of an inch in thickness, patented, but unfortunately never tried before. To build an exploring ship of untried material was a mistake. Some chemical action on this preparation of steel caused a minute hole; from this point, branches like lichens, or the little ragged stars we sometimes see in thawing ice, radiated in all directions. Small holes went through wherever a bend occurred in these branches. The bottom very soon became like a sieve, completely full of minute holes, which leaked perpetually. The engineer stopped the larger ones, but the vessel was no sooner afloat, than new ones broke out. The first news of a morning was commonly the unpleasant announcement of another leak in the forward compartment, or in the middle, which was worse still. Frequent showers fell on our way up the Zambesi, in the beginning of August. On the 8th we had upwards of three inches of rain, which large quantity, more than falls in any single rainy day during the season at Tette, we owed to being near the sea. Sometimes the cabin was nearly flooded; for, in addition to the leakage from below, rain poured through the roof, and an umbrella had to be used whenever we wished to write: the mode of coupling the compartments, too, was a new one, and the action of the hinder compartment on the middle one pumped up the water of the river, and sent it in streams over the floor and lockers, where lay the cushions which did double duty as chairs and beds. In trying to form an opinion of the climate, it must be recollected that much of the fever, from which we suffered, was caused by sleeping on these wet cushions. Many of the botanical specimens, laboriously collected and carefully prepared by Dr. Kirk, were destroyed, or double work imposed, by their accidentally falling into wet places in the cabin. About the middle of August, after cutting wood at Shamoara, we again steamed up the Shire, with the intention of becoming better acquainted with the people, and making another and longer journey on foot to the north of Lake Shirwa, in search of Lake Nyassa, of which we had already received some information, under the name Nyinyesi (the stars). The Shire is much narrower than the Zambesi, but deeper, and more easily navigated. It drains a low and exceedingly fertile valley of from fifteen to twenty miles in breadth. Ranges of wooded hills bound this valley on both sides. For the first twenty miles the hills on the left bank are close to the river; then comes Morambala, a detached mountain 500 yards from the river's brink, which rises, with steep sides on the west, to 4000 feet in height, and is about seven miles in length. It is wooded up to the very top, and very beautiful. The southern end, seen from a distance, has a fine gradual slope, and looks as if it might be of easy ascent; but the side which faces the Shire is steep and rocky, especially in the upper half. A small village peeps out about halfway up the mountain; it has a pure and bracing atmosphere; and is perched above mosquito range. The people on the summit have a very different climate and vegetation from those of the plains; but they have to spend a great portion of their existence amidst white fleecy clouds, which, in the rainy season, rest daily on the top of their favourite mountain. We were kindly treated by these mountaineers on our first ascent; before our second they were nearly all swept away by Mariano. Dr. Kirk found upwards of thirty species of ferns on this and other mountains, and even good-sized tree-ferns; though scarcely a single kind is to be met with on the plains. Lemon and orange trees grew wild, and pineapples had been planted by the people. Many large hornbills, hawks, monkeys, antelopes, and rhinoceroses found a home and food among the great trees round its base. A hot fountain boils up on the plain near the north end. It bubbles out of the earth, clear as crystal, at two points, or eyes, a few yards apart from each other, and sends off a fine flowing stream of hot water. The temperature was found to be 174 degrees Fahr., and it boiled an egg in about the usual time. Our guide threw in a small branch to show us how speedily the Madse-awira (boiling water) could kill the leaves. Unlucky lizards and insects did not seem to understand the nature of a hot-spring, as many of their remains were lying at the bottom. A large beetle had alighted on the water, and been killed before it had time to fold its wings. An incrustation, smelling of sulphur, has been deposited by the water on the stones. About a hundred feet from the eye of the fountain the mud is as hot as can be borne by the body. In taking a bath there, it makes the skin perfectly clean, and none of the mud adheres: it is strange that the Portuguese do not resort to it for the numerous cutaneous diseases with which they are so often afflicted. A few clumps of the palm and acacia trees appear west of Morambala, on the rich plain forming the tongue of land between the rivers Shire and Zambesi. This is a good place for all sorts of game. The Zambesi canoe- men were afraid to sleep on it from the idea of lions being there; they preferred to pass the night on an island. Some black men, who accompanied us as volunteer workmen from Shupanga, called out one evening that a lion stood on the bank. It was very dark, and we could only see two sparkling lights, said to be the lion's eyes looking at us; for here, as elsewhere, they have a theory that the lion's eyes always flash fire at night. Not being fireflies--as they did not move when a shot was fired in their direction--they were probably glowworms. Beyond Morambala the Shire comes winding through an extensive marsh. For many miles to the north a broad sea of fresh green grass extends, and is so level, that it might be used for taking the meridian altitude of the sun. Ten or fifteen miles north of Morambala, stands the dome-shaped mountain Makanga, or Chi-kanda; several others with granitic-looking peaks stretch away to the north, and form the eastern boundary of the valley; another range, but of metamorphic rocks, commencing opposite Senna, bounds the valley on the west. After streaming through a portion of this marsh, we came to a broad belt of palm and other trees, crossing the fine plain on the right bank. Marks of large game were abundant. Elephants had been feeding on the palm nuts, which have a pleasant fruity taste, and are used as food by man. Two pythons were observed coiled together among the branches of a large tree, and were both shot. The larger of the two, a female, was ten feet long. They are harmless, and said to be good eating. The Makololo having set fire to the grass where they were cutting wood, a solitary buffalo rushed out of the conflagration, and made a furious charge at an active young fellow named Mantlanyane. Never did his fleet limbs serve him better than during the few seconds of his fearful flight before the maddened animal. When he reached the bank, and sprang into the river, the infuriated beast was scarcely six feet behind him. Towards evening, after the day's labour in wood-cutting was over, some of the men went fishing. They followed the common African custom of agitating the water, by giving it a few sharp strokes with the top of the fishing-rod, immediately after throwing in the line, to attract the attention of the fish to the bait. Having caught nothing, the reason assigned was the same as would have been given in England under like circumstances, namely, that "the wind made the fish cold, and they would not bite." Many gardens of maize, pumpkins, and tobacco, fringed the marshy banks as we went on. They belong to natives of the hills, who come down in the dry season, and raise a crop on parts at other times flooded. While the crops are growing, large quantities of fish are caught, chiefly _Clarias capensis_, and _Mugil Africanus_; they are dried for sale or future consumption. As we ascended, we passed a deep stream about thirty yards wide, flowing in from a body of open water several miles broad. Numbers of men were busy at different parts of it, filling their canoes with the lotus root, called _Nyika_, which, when boiled or roasted, resembles our chestnuts, and is extensively used in Africa as food. Out of this lagoon, and by this stream, the chief part of the duckweed of the Shire flows. The lagoon itself is called Nyanja ea Motope (Lake of Mud). It is also named Nyanja Pangono (Little Lake), while the elephant marsh goes by the name of Nyanja Mukulu (Great Lake). It is evident from the shore line still to be observed on the adjacent hills, that in ancient times these were really lakes, and the traditional names thus preserved are only another evidence of the general desiccation which Africa has undergone. CHAPTER III. The Steamer in difficulties--Elephant hunting--Arrival at Chibisa's--Search for Lake Nyassa--The Manganja country--Weavers and smelters--Lake Pamalombe. Late in the afternoon of the first day's steaming, after we left the wooding-place, we called at the village of Chikanda-Kadze, a female chief, to purchase rice for our men; but we were now in the blissful region where time is absolutely of no account, and where men may sit down and rest themselves when tired; so they requested us to wait till next day, and they would then sell us some food. As our forty black men, however, had nothing to cook for supper, we were obliged to steam on to reach a village a few miles above. When we meet those who care not whether we purchase or let it alone, or who think men ought only to be in a hurry when fleeing from an enemy, our ideas about time being money, and the power of the purse, receives a shock. The state of eager competition, which in England wears out both mind and body, and makes life bitter, is here happily unknown. The cultivated spots are mere dots compared to the broad fields of rich soil which is never either grazed or tilled. Pity that the plenty in store for all, from our Father's bountiful hands, is not enjoyed by more. The wretched little steamer could not carry all the hands we needed; so, to lighten her, we put some into the boats and towed them astern. In the dark, one of the boats was capsized; but all in it, except one poor fellow who could not swim, were picked up. His loss threw a gloom over us all, and added to the chagrin we often felt at having been so ill-served in our sorry craft. Next day we arrived at the village of Mboma (16 degrees 56 minutes 30 seconds S.), where the people raised large quantities of rice, and were eager traders; the rice was sold at wonderfully low rates, and we could not purchase a tithe of the food brought for sale. A native minstrel serenaded us in the evening, playing several quaint tunes on a species of one stringed fiddle, accompanied by wild, but not unmusical songs. He told the Makololo that he intended to play all night to induce us to give him a present. The nights being cold, the thermometer falling to 47 degrees, with occasional fogs, he was asked if he was not afraid of perishing from cold; but, with the genuine spirit of an Italian organ-grinder, he replied, "Oh, no; I shall spend the night with my white comrades in the big canoe; I have often heard of the white men, but have never seen them till now, and I must sing and play well to them." A small piece of cloth, however, bought him off, and he moved away in good humour. The water of the river was 70 degrees at sunrise, which was 23 degrees warmer than the air at the same time, and this caused fogs, which rose like steam off the river. When this is the case cold bathing in the mornings at this time of the year is improper, for, instead of a glow on coming out, one is apt to get a chill; the air being so much colder than the water. A range of hills, commencing opposite Senna, comes to within two or three miles of Mboma village, and then runs in a north-westerly direction; the principal hill is named Malawe; a number of villages stand on its tree- covered sides, and coal is found cropping out in the rocks. The country improves as we ascend, the rich valley becoming less swampy, and adorned with a number of trees. Both banks are dotted with hippopotamus traps, over every track which these animals have made in going up out of the water to graze. The hippopotamus feeds on grass alone, and, where there is any danger, only at night. Its enormous lips act like a mowing-machine, and form a path of short-cropped grass as it feeds. We never saw it eat aquatic plants or reeds. The tusks seem weapons of both offence and defence. The hippopotamus trap consists of a beam five or six feet long, armed with a spear-head or hard-wood spike, covered with poison, and suspended to a forked pole by a cord, which, coming down to the path, is held by a catch, to be set free when the beast treads on it. Being wary brutes, they are still very numerous. One got frightened by the ship, as she was steaming close to the bank. In its eager hurry to escape it rushed on shore, and ran directly under a trap, when down came the heavy beam on its back, driving the poisoned spear-head a foot deep into its flesh. In its agony it plunged back into the river, to die in a few hours, and afterwards furnished a feast for the natives. The poison on the spear- head does not affect the meat, except the part around the wound, and that is thrown away. In some places the descending beam is weighted with heavy stones, but here the hard heavy wood is sufficient. "She is leaking worse than ever forward, sir, and there is a foot of water in the hold," was our first salutation on the morning of the 20th. But we have become accustomed to these things now; the cabin-floor is always wet, and one is obliged to mop up the water many times a day, giving some countenance to the native idea that Englishmen live in or on the water, and have no houses but ships. The cabin is now a favourite breeding-place for mosquitoes, and we have to support both the ship-bred and shore-bred bloodsuckers, of which several species show us their irritating attentions. A large brown sort, called by the Portuguese _mansos_ (tame), flies straight to its victim, and goes to work at once, as though it were an invited guest. Some of the small kinds carry uncommonly sharp lancets, and very potent poison. "What would these insects eat, if we did not pass this way?" becomes a natural question. The juices of plants, and decaying vegetable matter in the mud, probably form the natural food of mosquitoes, and blood is not necessary for their existence. They appear so commonly at malarious spots, that their presence may be taken as a hint to man to be off to more healthy localities. None appear on the high lands. On the low lands they swarm in myriads. The females alone are furnished with the biting apparatus, and their number appears to be out of all proportion in excess of the males. At anchor, on a still evening, they were excessively annoying; and the sooner we took refuge under our mosquito curtains, the better. The miserable and sleepless night that only one mosquito inside the curtain can cause, is so well known, and has been so often described, that it is needless to describe it here. One soon learns, from experience, that to beat out the curtains thoroughly before entering them, so that not one of these pests can possibly be harboured within, is the only safeguard against such severe trials to one's tranquillity and temper. A few miles above Mboma we came again to the village (16 degrees 44 minutes 30 seconds S.) of the chief Tingane, the beat of whose war-drums can speedily muster some hundreds of armed men. The bows and poisoned arrows here are of superior workmanship to those below. Mariano's slave- hunting parties stood in great awe of these barbed arrows, and long kept aloof from Tingane's villages. His people were friendly enough with us now, and covered the banks with a variety of articles for sale. The majestic mountain, Chipirone, to which we have given the name of Mount Clarendon, now looms in sight, and further to the N.W. the southern end of the grand Milanje range rises in the form of an unfinished sphinx looking down on Lake Shirwa. The Ruo (16 degrees 31 minutes 0 seconds S.) is said to have its source in the Milanje mountains, and flows to the S.W., to join the Shire some distance above Tingane's. A short way beyond the Ruo lies the Elephant marsh, or Nyanja Mukulu, which is frequented by vast herds of these animals. We believe that we counted eight hundred elephants in sight at once. In the choice of such a strong hold, they have shown their usual sagacity, for no hunter can get near them through the swamps. They now keep far from the steamer; but, when she first came up, we steamed into the midst of a herd, and some were shot from the ship's deck. A single lesson was sufficient to teach them that the steamer was a thing to be avoided; and at the first glimpse they are now off two or three miles to the midst of the marsh, which is furrowed in every direction by wandering branches of the Shire. A fine young elephant was here caught alive, as he was climbing up the bank to follow his retreating dam. When laid hold of, he screamed with so much energy that, to escape a visit from the enraged mother, we steamed off, and dragged him through the water by the proboscis. As the men were holding his trunk over the gunwale, Monga, a brave Makololo elephant-hunter, rushed aft, and drew his knife across it in a sort of frenzy peculiar to the chase. The wound was skilfully sewn up, and the young animal soon became quite tame, but, unfortunately the breathing prevented the cut from healing, and he died in a few days from loss of blood. Had he lived, and had we been able to bring him home, he would have been the first _African_ elephant ever seen in England. The African male elephant is from ten to a little over eleven feet in height, and differs from the Asiatic species more particularly in the convex shape of his forehead, and the enormous size of his ears. In Asia many of the males, and all the females, are without tusks, but in Africa both sexes are provided with these weapons. The enamel in the molar teeth is arranged differently in the two species. By an admirable provision, new teeth constantly come up at the part where in man the wisdom teeth appear, and these push the others along, and out at the front end of the jaws, thus keeping the molars sound by renewal, till the animal attains a very great age. The tusks of animals from dry rocky countries are very munch more dense and heavier than those from wet and marshy districts, but the latter attain much the larger size. The Shire marshes support prodigious numbers of many kinds of water-fowl. An hour at the mast-head unfolds novel views of life in an African marsh. Near the edge, and on the branches of some favourite tree, rest scores of plotuses and cormorants, which stretch their snake-like necks, and in mute amazement turn one eye and then another towards the approaching monster. By and-by the timid ones begin to fly off, or take "headers" into the stream; but a few of the bolder, or more composed, remain, only taking the precaution to spread their wings ready for instant flight. The pretty ardetta (_Herodias bubulcus_), of a light yellow colour when at rest, but seemingly of a pure white when flying, takes wing, and sweeps across the green grass in large numbers, often showing us where buffaloes and elephants are, by perching on their backs. Flocks of ducks, of which the kind called "Soriri" (_Dendrocygna personata_) is most abundant, being night feeders, meditate quietly by the small lagoons, until startled by the noise of the steam machinery. Pelicans glide over the water, catching fish, while the Scopus (_Scopus umbretta_) and large herons peer intently into pools. The large black and white spur-winged goose (a constant marauder of native gardens) springs up, and circles round to find out what the disturbance can be, and then settles down again with a splash. Hundreds of Linongolos (_Anastomus lamelligerus_) rise on the wing from the clumps of reeds, or low trees (the _Eschinomena_, from which pith hats are made), on which they build in colonies, and are speedily high in mid-air. Charming little red and yellow weavers (_Ploceidae_) remind one of butterflies, as they fly in and out of the tall grass, or hang to the mouths of their pendent nests, chattering briskly to their mates within. These weavers seem to have "cock nests," built with only a roof, and a perch beneath, with a doorway on each side. The natives say they are made to protect the bird from the rain. Though her husband is very attentive, we have seen the hen bird tearing her mate's nest to pieces, but why we cannot tell. Kites and vultures are busy overhead, beating the ground for their repast of carrion; and the solemn-looking, stately-stepping Marabout, with a taste for dead fish, or men, stalks slowly along the almost stagnant channels. Groups of men and boys are searching diligently in various places for lotus and other roots. Some are standing in canoes, on the weed-covered ponds, spearing fish, while others are punting over the small intersecting streams, to examine their sunken fish-baskets. Towards evening, hundreds of pretty little hawks (_Erythropus vespertinus_) are seen flying in a southerly direction, and feeding on dragon-flies and locusts. They come, apparently, from resting on the palm-trees during the heat of the day. Flocks of scissor-bills (_Rhyncops_) are then also on the wing, and in search of food, ploughing the water with their lower mandibles, which are nearly half an inch longer than the upper ones. At the north-eastern end of the marsh, and about three miles from the river, commences a great forest of palm-trees (_Borassus AEthiopium_). It extends many miles, and at one point comes close to the river. The grey trunks and green tops of this immense mass of trees give a pleasing tone of colour to the view. The mountain-range, which rises close behind the palms, is generally of a cheerful green, and has many trees, with patches of a lighter tint among them, as if spots of land had once been cultivated. The sharp angular rocks and dells on its sides have the appearance of a huge crystal broken; and this is so often the case in Africa, that one can guess pretty nearly at sight whether a range is of the old crystalline rocks or not. The Borassus, though not an oil-bearing palm, is a useful tree. The fibrous pulp round the large nuts is of a sweet fruity taste, and is eaten by men and elephants. The natives bury the nuts until the kernels begin to sprout; when dug up and broken, the inside resembles coarse potatoes, and is prized in times of scarcity as nutritious food. During several months of the year, palm- wine, or sura, is obtained in large quantities; when fresh, it is a pleasant drink, somewhat like champagne, and not at all intoxicating; though, after standing a few hours, it becomes highly so. Sticks, a foot long, are driven into notches in the hard outside of the tree--the inside being soft or hollow--to serve as a ladder; the top of the fruit-shoot is cut off, and the sap, pouring out at the fresh wound, is caught in an earthen pot, which is hung at the point. A thin slice is taken off the end, to open the pores, and make the juice flow every time the owner ascends to empty the pot. Temporary huts are erected in the forest, and men and boys remain by their respective trees day and night; the nuts, fish, and wine, being their sole food. The Portuguese use the palm-wine as yeast, and it makes bread so light, that it melts in the mouth like froth. Beyond the marsh the country is higher, and has a much larger population. We passed a long line of temporary huts, on a plain on the right bank, with crowds of men and women hard at work making salt. They obtain it by mixing the earth, which is here highly saline, with water, in a pot with a small hole in it, and then evaporating the liquid, which runs through, in the sun. From the number of women we saw carrying it off in bags, we concluded that vast quantities must be made at these works. It is worth observing that on soils like this, containing salt, the cotton is of larger and finer staple than elsewhere. We saw large tracts of this rich brackish soil both in the Shire and Zambesi valleys, and hence, probably, sea-island cotton would do well; a single plant of it, reared by Major Sicard, flourished and produced the long staple and peculiar tinge of this celebrated variety, though planted only in the street at Tette; and there also a salt efflorescence appears, probably from decomposition of the rock, off which the people scrape it for use. The large village of the chief, Mankokwe, occupies a site on the right bank; he owns a number of fertile islands, and is said to be the Rundo, or paramount chief, of a large district. Being of an unhappy suspicious disposition, he would not see us; so we thought it best to move on, rather than spend time in seeking his favour. On the 25th August we reached Dakanamoio island, opposite the perpendicular bluff on which Chibisa's village stands; he had gone, with most of his people, to live near the Zambesi, but his headman was civil, and promised us guides and whatever else we needed. A few of the men were busy cleaning, sorting, spinning, and weaving cotton. This is a common sight in nearly every village, and each family appears to have its patch of cotton, as our own ancestors in Scotland had each his patch of flax. Near sunset an immense flock of the large species of horn-bill (_Buceros cristatus_) came here to roost on the great trees which skirt the edge of the cliff. They leave early in the morning, often before sunrise, for their feeding-places, coming and going in pairs. They are evidently of a loving disposition, and strongly attached to each other, the male always nestling close beside his mate. A fine male fell to the ground, from fear, at the report of Dr. Kirk's gun; it was caught and kept on board; the female did not go off in the mornings to feed with the others, but flew round the ship, anxiously trying, by her plaintive calls, to induce her beloved one to follow her: she came again in the evenings to repeat the invitations. The poor disconsolate captive soon refused to eat, and in five days died of grief, because he could not have her company. No internal injury could be detected after death. Chibisa and his wife, with a natural show of parental feeling, had told the Doctor, on his previous visit, that a few years before some of Chisaka's men had kidnapped and sold their little daughter, and that she was now a slave to the padre at Tette. On his return to Tette, the Doctor tried hard to ransom and restore the girl to her parents, and offered twice the value of a slave; the padre seemed willing, but she could not be found. This padre was better than the average men of the country; and, being always civil and obliging, would probably have restored her gratuitously, but she had been sold, it might be to the distant tribe Bazizulu, or he could not tell where. Custom had rendered his feelings callous, and Chibisa had to be told that his child would never return. It is this callous state of mind which leads some of our own blood to quote Scripture in support of slavery. If we could afford to take a backward step in civilization, we might find men among ourselves who would in like manner prove Mormonism or any other enormity to be divine. We left the ship on the 28th of August, 1859, for the discovery of Lake Nyassa. Our party numbered forty-two in all--four whites, thirty-six Makololo, and two guides. We did not actually need so many, either for carriage or defence; but took them because we believed that, human nature being everywhere the same, blacks are as ready as whites to take advantage of the weak, and are as civil and respectful to the powerful. We armed our men with muskets, which gave us influence, although it did not add much to our strength, as most of the men had never drawn a trigger, and in any conflict would in all probability have been more dangerous to us than the enemy. Our path crossed the valley, in a north-easterly direction, up the course of a beautiful flowing stream. Many of the gardens had excellent cotton growing in them. An hour's march brought us to the foot of the Manganja hills, up which lay the toilsome road. The vegetation soon changed; as we rose bamboos appeared, and new trees and plants were met with, which gave such incessant employment to Dr. Kirk, that he travelled the distance three times over. Remarkably fine trees, one of which has oil- yielding seeds, and belongs to the mahogany family, grow well in the hollows along the rivulet courses. The ascent became very fatiguing, and we were glad of a rest. Looking back from an elevation of a thousand feet, we beheld a lovely prospect. The eye takes in at a glance the valley beneath, and the many windings of its silver stream Makubula, or Kubvula, from the shady hill-side, where it emerges in foaming haste, to where it slowly glides into the tranquil Shire; then the Shire itself is seen for many a mile above and below Chibisa's, and the great level country beyond, with its numerous green woods; until the prospect, west and north-west, is bounded far away by masses of peaked and dome-shaped blue mountains, that fringe the highlands of the Maravi country. After a weary march we halted at Makolongwi, the village of Chitimba. It stands in a woody hollow on the first of the three terraces of the Manganja hills, and, like all other Manganja villages, is surrounded by an impenetrable hedge of poisonous euphorbia. This tree casts a deep shade, which would render it difficult for bowmen to take aim at the villagers inside. The grass does not grow beneath it, and this may be the reason why it is so universally used, for when dry the grass would readily convey fire to the huts inside; moreover, the hedge acts as a fender to all flying sparks. As strangers are wont to do, we sat down under some fine trees near the entrance of the village. A couple of mats, made of split reeds, were spread for the white men to sit on; and the headman brought a seguati, or present, of a small goat and a basket of meal. The full value in beads and cotton cloth was handed to him in return. He measured the cloth, doubled it, and then measured that again. The beads were scrutinized; he had never seen beads of that colour before, and should like to consult with his comrades before accepting them, and this, after repeated examinations and much anxious talk, he concluded to do. Meal and peas were then brought for sale. A fathom of blue cotton cloth, a full dress for man or woman, was produced. Our Makololo headman, Sininyane, thinking a part of it was enough for the meal, was proceeding to tear it, when Chitimba remarked that it was a pity to cut such a nice dress for his wife, he would rather bring more meal. "All right," said Sininyane; "but look, the cloth is very wide, so see that the basket which carries the meal be wide too, and add a cock to make the meal taste nicely." A brisk trade sprang up at once, each being eager to obtain as fine things as his neighbour,--and all were in good humour. Women and girls began to pound and grind meal, and men and boys chased the screaming fowls over the village, until they ran them down. In a few hours the market was completely glutted with every sort of native food; the prices, however, rarely fell, as they could easily eat what was not sold. We slept under the trees, the air being pheasant, and no mosquitoes on the hills. According to our usual plan of marching, by early dawn our camp was in motion. After a cup of coffee and a bit of biscuit we were on the way. The air was deliciously cool, and the path a little easier than that of yesterday. We passed a number of villages, occupying very picturesque spots among the hills, and in a few hours gained the upper terrace, 3000 feet above the level of the sea. The plateau lies west of the Milanje mountains, and its north-eastern border slopes down to Lake Shirwa. We were all charmed with the splendid country, and looked with never-failing delight on its fertile plains, its numerous hills, and majestic mountains. In some of the passes we saw bramble-berries growing; and the many other flowers, though of great beauty, did not remind us of youth and of home like the ungainly thorny bramble-bushes. We were a week in crossing the highlands in a northerly direction; then we descended into the Upper Shire Valley, which is nearly 1200 feet above the level of the sea. This valley is wonderfully fertile, and supports a large population. After leaving the somewhat flat-topped southern portion, the most prominent mountain of the Zomba range is Njongone, which has a fine stream running past its northern base. We were detained at the end of the chain some days by one of our companions being laid up with fever. One night we were suddenly aroused by buffaloes rushing close by the sick-bed. We were encamped by a wood on the border of a marsh, but our patient soon recovered, notwithstanding the unfavourable situation, and the poor accommodation. The Manganja country is delightfully well watered. The clear, cool, gushing streams are very numerous. Once we passed seven fine brooks and a spring in a single hour, and this, too, near the close of the dry season. Mount Zomba, which is twenty miles long, and from 7000 to 8000 feet high, has a beautiful stream flowing through a verdant valley on its summit, and running away down into Lake Shirwa. The highlands are well wooded, and many trees, admirable for their height and timber, grow on the various watercourses. "Is this country good for cattle?" we inquired of a Makololo herdsman, whose occupation had given him skill in pasturage. "Truly," he replied, "do you not see abundance of those grasses which the cattle love, and get fat upon?" Yet the people have but few goats, and fewer sheep. With the exception of an occasional leopard, there are no beasts of prey to disturb domestic animals. Wool- sheep would, without doubt, thrive on these highlands. Part of the Upper Shire valley has a lady paramount, named Nyango; and in her dominions women rank higher and receive more respectful treatment than their sisters on the hills. The hill chief, Mongazi, called his wife to take charge of a present we had given him. She dropped down on her knees, clapping her hands in reverence, before and after receiving our presents from his lordly hands. It was painful to see the abject manner in which the women of the hill tribes knelt beside the path as we passed; but a great difference took place when we got into Nyango's country. On entering a village, we proceeded, as all strangers do, at once to the Boalo: mats of split reeds or bamboo were usually spread for us to sit on. Our guides then told the men who might be there, who we were, whence we had come, whither we wanted to go, and what were our objects. This information was duly carried to the chief, who, if a sensible man, came at once; but, if he happened to be timid and suspicious, waited until he had used divination, and his warriors had time to come in from outlying hamlets. When he makes his appearance, all the people begin to clap their hands in unison, and continue doing so till he sits down opposite to us. His counsellors take their places beside him. He makes a remark or two, and is then silent for a few seconds. Our guides then sit down in front of the chief and his counsellors, and both parties lean forward, looking earnestly at each other; the chief repeats a word, such as "Ambuiatu" (our Father, or master)--or "moio" (life), and all clap their hands. Another word is followed by two claps, a third by still more clapping, when each touches the ground with both hands placed together. Then all rise and lean forward with measured clap, and sit down again with clap, clap, clap, fainter, and still fainter, till the last dies away, or is brought to an end by a smart loud clap from the chief. They keep perfect time in this species of court etiquette. Our guides now tell the chief, often in blank verse, all they have already told his people, with the addition perhaps of their own suspicions of the visitors. He asks some questions, and then converses with us through the guides. Direct communication between the chief and the head of the stranger party is not customary. In approaching they often ask who is the spokesman, and the spokesman of the chief addresses the person indicated exclusively. There is no lack of punctilious good manners. The accustomed presents are exchanged with civil ceremoniousness; until our men, wearied and hungry, call out, "English do not buy slaves, they buy food," and then the people bring meal, maize, fowls, batatas, yams, beans, beer, for sale. The Manganja are an industrious race; and in addition to working in iron, cotton, and basket-making, they cultivate the soil extensively. All the people of a village turn out to labour in the fields. It is no uncommon thing to see men, women, and children hard at work, with the baby lying close by beneath a shady bush. When a new piece of woodland is to be cleared, they proceed exactly as farmers do in America. The trees are cut down with their little axes of soft native iron; trunks and branches are piled up and burnt, and the ashes spread on the soil. The corn is planted among the standing stumps which are left to rot. If grass land is to be brought under cultivation, as much tall grass as the labourer can conveniently lay hold of is collected together and tied into a knot. He then strikes his hoe round the tufts to sever the roots, and leaving all standing, proceeds until the whole ground assumes the appearance of a field covered with little shocks of corn in harvest. A short time before the rains begin, these grass shocks are collected in small heaps, covered with earth, and burnt, the ashes and burnt soil being used to fertilize the ground. Large crops of the mapira, or Egyptian dura (_Holcus sorghum_), are raised, with millet, beans, and ground-nuts; also patches of yams, rice, pumpkins, cucumbers, cassava, sweet potatoes, tobacco, and hemp, or bang (_Cannabis setiva_). Maize is grown all the year round. Cotton is cultivated at almost every village. Three varieties of cotton have been found in the country, namely, two foreign and one native. The "tonje manga," or foreign cotton, the name showing that it has been introduced, is of excellent quality, and considered at Manchester to be nearly equal to the best New Orleans. It is perennial, but requires replanting once in three years. A considerable amount of this variety is grown in the Upper and Lower Shire valleys. Every family of any importance owns a cotton patch which, from the entire absence of weeds, seemed to be carefully cultivated. Most were small, none seen on this journey exceeding half an acre; but on the former trip some were observed of more than twice that size. The "tonje cadja," or indigenous cotton, is of shorter staple, and feels in the hand like wool. This kind has to be planted every season in the highlands; yet, because it makes stronger cloth, many of the people prefer it to the foreign cotton; the third variety is not found here. It was remarked to a number of men near the Shire Lakelet, a little further on towards Nyassa, "You should plant plenty of cotton, and probably the English will come and buy it." "Truly," replied a far-travelled Babisa trader to his fellows, "the country is full of cotton, and if these people come to buy they will enrich us." Our own observation on the cotton cultivated convinced us that this was no empty flourish, but a fact. Everywhere we met with it, and scarcely ever entered a village without finding a number of men cleaning, spinning, and weaving. It is first carefully separated from the seed by the fingers, or by an iron roller, on a little block of wood, and rove out into long soft bands without twist. Then it receives its first twist on the spindle, and becomes about the thickness of coarse candlewick; after being taken off and wound into a large ball, it is given the final hard twist, and spun into a firm cop on the spindle again: all the processes being painfully slow. Iron ore is dug out of the hills, and its manufacture is the staple trade of the southern highlands. Each village has its smelting-house, its charcoal-burners, and blacksmiths. They make good axes, spears, needles, arrowheads, bracelets and anklets, which, considering the entire absence of machinery, are sold at surprisingly low rates; a hoe over two pounds in weight is exchanged for calico of about the value of fourpence. In villages near Lake Shirwa and elsewhere, the inhabitants enter pretty largely into the manufacture of crockery, or pottery, making by hand all sorts of cooking, water, and grain pots, which they ornament with plumbago found in the hills. Some find employment in weaving neat baskets from split bamboos, and others collect the fibre of the buaze, which grows abundantly on the hills, and make it into fish-nets. These they either use themselves, or exchange with the fishermen on the river or lakes for dried fish and salt. A great deal of native trade is carried on between the villages, by means of barter in tobacco, salt, dried fish, skins, and iron. Many of the men are intelligent-looking, with well-shaped heads, agreeable faces, and high foreheads. We soon learned to forget colour, and we frequently saw countenances resembling those of white people we had known in England, which brought back the looks of forgotten ones vividly before the mind. The men take a good deal of pride in the arrangement of their hair; the varieties of style are endless. One trains his long locks till they take the admired form of the buffalo's horns; others prefer to let their hair hang in a thick coil down their backs, like that animal's tail; while another wears it in twisted cords, which, stiffened by fillets of the inner bark of a tree wound spirally round each curl, radiate from the head in all directions. Some have it hanging all round the shoulders in large masses; others shave it off altogether. Many shave part of it into ornamental figures, in which the fancy of the barber crops out conspicuously. About as many dandies run to seed among the blacks as among the whites. The Man ganja adorn their bodies extravagantly, wearing rings on their fingers and thumbs, besides throatlets, bracelets, and anklets of brass, copper, or iron. But the most wonderful of ornaments, if such it may be called, is the pelele, or upper-lip ring of the women. The middle of the upper lip of the girls is pierced close to the septum of the nose, and a small pin inserted to prevent the puncture closing up. After it has healed, the pin is taken out and a larger one is pressed into its place, and so on successively for weeks, and months, and years. The process of increasing the size of the lip goes on till its capacity becomes so great that a ring of two inches diameter can be introduced with ease. All the highland women wear the pelele, and it is common on the Upper and Lower Shire. The poorer classes make them of hollow or of solid bamboo, but the wealthier of ivory or tin. The tin pelele is often made in the form of a small dish. The ivory one is not unlike a napkin-ring. No woman ever appears in public without the pelele, except in times of mourning for the dead. It is frightfully ugly to see the upper lip projecting two inches beyond the tip of the nose. When an old wearer of a hollow bamboo ring smiles, by the action of the muscles of the cheeks, the ring and lip outside it are dragged back and thrown above the eyebrows. The nose is seen through the middle of the ring, amid the exposed teeth show how carefully they have been chipped to look like those of a cat or crocodile. The pelele of an old lady, Chikanda Kadze, a chieftainess, about twenty miles north of Morambala, hung down below her chin, with, of course, a piece of the upper lip around its border. The labial letters cannot be properly pronounced, but the under lip has to do its best for them, against the upper teeth and gum. Tell them it makes them ugly; they had better throw it away; they reply, "Kodi! Really! it is the fashion." How this hideous fashion originated is an enigma. Can thick lips ever have been thought beautiful, and this mode of artificial enlargement resorted to in consequence? The constant twiddling of the pelele with the tongue by the younger women suggested the irreverent idea that it might have been invented to give safe employment to that little member. "Why do the women wear these things?" we inquired of the old chief, Chinsunse. Evidently surprised at such a stupid question, he replied, "For beauty, to be sure! Men have beards and whiskers; women have none; and what kind of creature would a woman be without whiskers, and without the pelele? She would have a mouth like a man, and no beard; ha! ha! ha!" Afterwards on the Rovuma, we found men wearing the pelele, as well as women. An idea suggested itself on seeing the effects of the slight but constant pressure exerted on the upper gum and front teeth, of which our medical brethren will judge the value. In many cases the upper front teeth, instead of the natural curve outwards, which the row presents, had been pressed so as to appear as if the line of alveoli in which they were planted had an inward curve. As this was produced by the slight pressure of the pelele backwards, persons with too prominent teeth might by slight, but long-continued pressure, by some appliance only as elastic as the lip, have the upper gum and teeth depressed, especially in youth, more easily than is usually imagined. The pressure should be applied to the upper gum more than to the teeth. The Manganja are not a sober people: they brew large quantities of beer, and like it well. Having no hops, or other means of checking fermentation, they are obliged to drink the whole brew in a few days, or it becomes unfit for use. Great merry-makings take place on these occasions, and drinking, drumming, and dancing continue day and night, till the beer is gone. In crossing the hills we sometimes found whole villages enjoying this kind of mirth. The veteran traveller of the party remarked, that he had not seen so much drunkenness during all the sixteen years he had spent in Africa. As we entered a village one afternoon, not a man was to be seen; but some women were drinking beer under a tree. In a few moments the native doctor, one of the innocents, "nobody's enemy but his own," staggered out of a hut, with his cupping-horn dangling from his neck, and began to scold us for a breach of etiquette. "Is this the way to come into a man's village, without sending him word that you are coming?" Our men soon pacified the fuddled but good-humoured medico, who, entering his beer-cellar, called on two of them to help him to carry out a huge pot of beer, which he generously presented to us. While the "medical practitioner" was thus hospitably employed, the chief awoke in a fright, and shouted to the women to run away, or they would all be killed. The ladies laughed at the idea of their being able to run away, and remained beside the beer-pots. We selected a spot for our camp, our men cooked the dinner as usual, and we were quietly eating it, when scores of armed men, streaming with perspiration, came pouring into the village. They looked at us, then at each other, and turning to the chief upbraided him for so needlessly sending for them. "These people are peaceable; they do not hurt you; you are killed with beer:" so saying, they returned to their homes. Native beer has a pinkish colour, and the consistency of gruel. The grain is made to vegetate, dried in the sun, pounded into meal, and gently boiled. When only a day or two old, the beer is sweet, with a slight degree of acidity, which renders it a most grateful beverage in a hot climate, or when fever begets a sore craving for acid drinks. A single draught of it satisfies this craving at once. Only by deep and long-continued potations can intoxication be produced: the grain being in a minutely divided state, it is a good way of consuming it, and the decoction is very nutritious. At Tette a measure of beer is exchanged for an equal-sized pot full of grain. A present of this beer, so refreshing to our dark comrades, was brought to us in nearly every village. Beer-drinking does not appear to produce any disease, or to shorten life on the hills. Never before did we see so many old, grey- headed men and women; leaning on their staves they came with the others to see the white men. The aged chief, Muata Manga, could hardly have been less than ninety years of age; his venerable appearance struck the Makololo. "He is an old man," said they, "a very old man; his skin hangs in wrinkles, just like that on elephants' hips." "Did you never," he was asked, "have a fit of travelling come over you; a desire to see other lands and people?" No, he had never felt that, and had never been far from home in his life. For long life they are not indebted to frequent ablutions. An old man told us that he remembered to have washed once in his life, but it was so long since that he had forgotten how it felt. "Why do you wash?" asked Chinsunse's women of the Makololo; "our men never do." The superstitious ordeal, by drinking the poisonous muave, obtains credit here; and when a person is suspected of crime, this ordeal is resorted to. If the stomach rejects the poison, the accused is pronounced innocent; but if it is retained, guilt is believed to be demonstrated. Their faith is so firm in its discriminating power, that the supposed criminal offers of his own accord to drink it, and even chiefs are not exempted. Chibisa, relying on its efficacy, drank it several times, in order to vindicate his character. When asserting that all his wars had been just, it was hinted that, as every chief had the same tale of innocence to tell, we ought to suspend our judgment. "If you doubt my word," said he, "give me the muave to drink." A chief at the foot of Mount Zomba successfully went through the ordeal the day we reached his village; and his people manifested their joy at his deliverance by drinking beer, dancing, and drumming for two days and nights. It is possible that the native doctor, who mixes the ingredients of the poisoned bowl, may be able to save those whom he considers innocent; but it is difficult to get the natives to speak about the matter, and no one is willing to tell what the muave poison consists of. We have been shown trees said to be used, but had always reason to doubt the accuracy of our informants. We once found a tree in a village, with many pieces of the bark chipped off, closely allied to the Tangena or Tanghina, the ordeal poison tree of Madagascar; but we could not ascertain any particulars about it. Death is inflicted on those found guilty of witchcraft, by the muave. The women wail for the dead two days. Seated on the ground they chant a few plaintive words, and end each verse with the prolonged sound of a--a, or o--o, or ea-ea-ea--a. Whatever beer is in the house of the deceased, is poured out on the ground with the meal, and all cooking and water pots are broken, as being of no further use. Both men and women wear signs of mourning for their dead relatives. These consist of narrow strips of the palm-leaf wound round the head, the arms, legs, neck, and breasts, and worn till they drop off from decay. They believe in the existence of a supreme being, called Mpambe, and also Morungo, and in a future state. "We live only a few days here," said old Chinsunse, "but we live again after death: we do not know where, or in what condition, or with what companions, for the dead never return to tell us. Sometimes the dead do come back, and appear to us in dreams; but they never speak nor tell us where they have gone, nor how they fare." CHAPTER IV. The Upper Shire--Discovery of Lake Nyassa--Distressing exploration--Return to Zambesi--Unpleasant visitors--Start for Sekeletu's Country in the interior. Our path followed the Shire above the cataracts, which is now a broad deep river, with but little current. It expands in one place into a lakelet, called Pamalombe, full of fine fish, and ten or twelve miles long by five or six in breadth. Its banks are low, and a dense wall of papyrus encircles it. On its western shore rises a range of hills running north. On reaching the village of the chief Muana-Moesi, and about a day's march distant from Nyassa, we were told that no lake had ever been heard of there; that the River Shire stretched on as we saw it now to a distance of "two months," and then came out from between perpendicular rocks, which towered almost to the skies. Our men looked blank at this piece of news, and said, "Let us go back to the ship, it is of no use trying to find the lake." "We shall go and see those wonderful rocks at any rate," said the Doctor. "And when you see them," replied Masakasa, "you will just want to see something else. But there _is_ a lake," rejoined Masakasa, "for all their denying it, for it is down in a book." Masakasa, having unbounded faith in whatever was in a book, went and scolded the natives for telling him an untruth. "There is a lake," said he, "for how could the white men know about it in a book if it did not exist?" They then admitted that there was a lake a few miles off. Subsequent inquiries make it probable that the story of the "perpendicular rocks" may have had reference to a fissure, known to both natives and Arabs, in the north-eastern portion of the lake. The walls rise so high that the path along the bottom is said to be underground. It is probably a crack similar to that which made the Victoria Falls, and formed the Shire Valley. The chief brought a small present of meal in the evening, and sat with us for a few minutes. On leaving us he said that he wished we might sleep well. Scarce had he gone, when a wild sad cry arose from the river, followed by the shrieking of women. A crocodile had carried off his principal wife, as she was bathing. The Makololo snatched up their arms, and rushed to the bank, but it was too late, she was gone. The wailing of the women continued all night, and next morning we met others coming to the village to join in the general mourning. Their grief was evidently heartfelt, as we saw the tears coursing down their cheeks. In reporting this misfortune to his neighbours, Muana-Moesi said, "that white men came to his village; washed themselves at the place where his wife drew water and bathed; rubbed themselves with a white medicine (soap); and his wife, having gone to bathe afterwards, was taken by a crocodile; he did not know whether in consequence of the medicine used or not." This we could not find fault with. On our return we were viewed with awe, and all the men fled at our approach; the women remained; and this elicited the remark from our men, "The women have the advantage of men, in not needing to dread the spear." The practice of bathing, which our first contact with Chinsunse's people led us to believe was unknown to the natives, we afterwards found to be common in other parts of the Manganja country. We discovered Lake Nyassa a little before noon of the 16th September, 1859. Its southern end is in 14 degrees 25 minutes S. Lat., and 35 degrees 30 minutes E. Long. At this point the valley is about twelve miles wide. There are hills on both sides of the lake, but the haze from burning grass prevented us at the time from seeing far. A long time after our return from Nyassa, we received a letter from Captain R. B. Oldfield, R.N., then commanding H.M.S. "Lyra," with the information that Dr. Roscher, an enterprising German who unfortunately lost his life in his zeal for exploration, had also reached the Lake, but on the 19th November following our discovery; and on his arrival had been informed by the natives that a party of white men were at the southern extremity. On comparing dates (16th September and 19th November) we were about two months before Dr. Roscher. It is not known where Dr. Roscher first saw its waters; as the exact position of Nusseewa on the borders of the Lake, where he lived some time, is unknown. He was three days north-east of Nusseewa, and on the Arab road back to the usual crossing-place of the Rovuma, when he was murdered. The murderers were seized by one of the chiefs, sent to Zanzibar, and executed. He is said to have kept his discoveries to himself, with the intention of publishing in Europe the whole at once, in a splendid book of travels. The chief of the village near the confluence of the Lake and River Shire, an old man, called Mosauka, hearing that we were sitting under a tree, came and kindly invited us to his village. He took us to a magnificent banyan-tree, of which he seemed proud. The roots had been trained down to the ground into the form of a gigantic arm-chair, without the seat. Four of us slept in the space betwixt its arms. Mosauka brought us a present of a goat and basket of meal "to comfort our hearts." He told us that a large slave party, led by Arabs, were encamped close by. They had been up to Cazembe's country the past year, and were on their way back, with plenty of slaves, ivory, and malachite. In a few minutes half a dozen of the leaders came over to see us. They were armed with long muskets, and, to our mind, were a villanous-looking lot. They evidently thought the same of us, for they offered several young children for sale, but, when told that we were English, showed signs of fear, and decamped during the night. On our return to the Kongone, we found that H.M.S. "Lynx" had caught some of these very slaves in a dhow; for a woman told us she first saw us at Mosauka's, and that the Arabs had fled for fear of an _uncanny_ sort of Basungu. This is one of the great slave-paths from the interior, others cross the Shire a little below, and some on the lake itself. We might have released these slaves but did not know what to do with them afterwards. On meeting men, led in slave-sticks, the Doctor had to bear the reproaches of the Makololo, who never slave, "Ay, you call us bad, but are we yellow-hearted, like these fellows--why won't you let us choke them?" To liberate and leave them, would have done but little good, as the people of the surrounding villages would soon have seized them, and have sold them again into slavery. The Manganja chiefs sell their own people, for we met Ajawa and slave-dealers in several highland villages, who had certainly been encouraged to come among them for slaves. The chiefs always seemed ashamed of the traffic, and tried to excuse themselves. "We do not sell many, and only those who have committed crimes." As a rule the regular trade is supplied by the low and criminal classes, and hence the ugliness of slaves. Others are probably sold besides criminals, as on the accusation of witchcraft. Friendless orphans also sometimes disappear suddenly, and no one inquires what has become of them. The temptation to sell their people is peculiarly great, as there is but little ivory on the hills, and often the chief has nothing but human flesh with which to buy foreign goods. The Ajawa offer cloth, brass rings, pottery, and sometimes handsome young women, and agree to take the trouble of carrying off by night all those whom the chief may point out to them. They give four yards of cotton cloth for a man, three for a woman, and two for a boy or girl, to be taken to the Portuguese at Mozambique, Iboe, and Quillimane. The Manganja were more suspicious and less hospitable than the tribes on the Zambesi. They were slow to believe that our object in coming into their country was really what we professed it to be. They naturally judge us by the motives which govern themselves. A chief in the Upper Shire Valley, whose scared looks led our men to christen him Kitlabolawa (I shall be killed), remarked that parties had come before, with as plausible a story as ours, and, after a few days, had jumped up and carried off a number of his people as slaves. We were not allowed to enter some of the villages in the valley, nor would the inhabitants even sell us food; Zimika's men, for instance, stood at the entrance of the euphorbia hedge, and declared we should not pass in. We sat down under a tree close by. A young fellow made an angry oration, dancing from side to side with his bow and poisoned arrows, and gesticulating fiercely in our faces. He was stopped in the middle of his harangue by an old man, who ordered him to sit down, and not talk to strangers in that way; he obeyed reluctantly, scowling defiance, and thrusting out his large lips very significantly. The women were observed leaving the village; and, suspecting that mischief might ensue, we proceeded on our journey, to the great disgust of our men. They were very angry with the natives for their want of hospitality to strangers, and with us, because we would not allow them to give "the things a thrashing." "This is what comes of going with white men," they growled out; "had we been with our own chief, we should have eaten their goats to-night, and had some of themselves to carry the bundles for us to-morrow." On our return by a path which left his village on our right, Zimika sent to apologize, saying that "he was ill, and in another village at the time; it was not by his orders we were sent away; his men did not know that we were a party wishing the land to dwell in peace." We were not able, when hastening back to the men left in the ship, to remain in the villages belonging to this chief; but the people came after us with things for sale, and invited us to stop, and spend the night with them, urging, "Are we to have it said that white people passed through our country and we did not see them?" We rested by a rivulet to gratify these sight-seers. We appear to them to be red rather than white; and, though light colour is admired among themselves, our clothing renders us uncouth in aspect. Blue eyes appear savage, and a red beard hideous. From the numbers of aged persons we saw on the highlands, and the increase of mental and physical vigour we experienced on our ascent from the lowlands, we inferred that the climate was salubrious, and that our countrymen might there enjoy good health, and also be of signal benefit, by leading the multitude of industrious inhabitants to cultivate cotton, buaze, sugar, and other valuable produce, to exchange for goods of European manufacture; at the same time teaching them, by precept and example, the great truths of our Holy Religion. Our stay at the Lake was necessarily short. We had found that the best plan for allaying any suspicions, that might arise in the minds of a people accustomed only to slave-traders, was to pay a hasty visit, and then leave for a while, and allow the conviction to form among the people that, though our course of action was so different from that of others, we were not dangerous, but rather disposed to be friendly. We had also a party at the vessel, and any indiscretion on their part might have proved fatal to the character of the Expedition. The trade of Cazembe and Katanga's country, and of other parts of the interior, crosses Nyassa and the Shire, on its way to the Arab port, Kilwa, and the Portuguese ports of Iboe and Mozambique. At present, slaves, ivory, malachite, and copper ornaments, are the only articles of commerce. According to information collected by Colonel Rigby at Zanzibar, and from other sources, nearly all the slaves shipped from the above-mentioned ports come from the Nyassa district. By means of a small steamer, purchasing the ivory of the Lake and River above the cataracts, which together have a shore-line of at least 600 miles, the slave-trade in this quarter would be rendered unprofitable,--for it is only by the ivory being carried by the slaves, that the latter do not eat up all the profits of a trip. An influence would be exerted over an enormous area of country, for the Mazitu about the north end of the Lake will not allow slave-traders to pass round that way through their country. They would be most efficient allies to the English, and might themselves be benefited by more intercourse. As things are now, the native traders in ivory and malachite have to submit to heavy exactions; and if we could give them the same prices which they at present get after carrying their merchandise 300 miles beyond this to the Coast, it might induce them to return without going further. It is only by cutting off the supplies in the interior, that we can crush the slave-trade on the Coast. The plan proposed would stop the slave-trade from the Zambesi on one side and Kilwa on the other; and would leave, beyond this tract, only the Portuguese port of Inhambane on the south, and a portion of the Sultan of Zanzibar's dominion on the north, for our cruisers to look after. The Lake people grow abundance of cotton for their own consumption, and can sell it for a penny a pound or even less. Water-carriage exists by the Shire and Zambesi all the way to England, with the single exception of a portage of about thirty-five miles past the Murchison Cataracts, along which a road of less than forty miles could be made at a trifling expense; and it seems feasible that a legitimate and thriving trade might, in a short time, take the place of the present unlawful traffic. Colonel Rigby, Captains Wilson, Oldfield, and Chapman, and all the most intelligent officers on the Coast, were unanimous in the belief, that one small vessel on the Lake would have decidedly more influence, and do more good in suppressing the slave-trade, than half a dozen men-of-war on the ocean. By judicious operations, therefore, on a small scale inland, little expense would be incurred, and the English slave-trade policy on the East would have the same fair chance of success, as on the West Coast. After a land-journey of forty days, we returned to the ship on the 6th of October, 1859, in a somewhat exhausted condition, arising more from a sort of poisoning, than from the usual fatigue of travel. We had taken a little mulligatawney paste, for making soup, in case of want of time to cook other food. Late one afternoon, at the end of an unusually long march, we reached Mikena, near the base of Mount Njongone to the north of Zomba, and the cook was directed to use a couple of spoonfuls of the paste; but, instead of doing so, he put in the whole potful. The soup tasted rather hot, but we added boiled rice to it, and, being very hungry, partook freely of it; and, in consequence of the overdose, we were delayed several days in severe suffering, and some of the party did not recover till after our return to the ship. Our illness may partly have arisen from another cause. One kind of cassava (_Jatropha maligna_) is known to be, in its raw state, poisonous, but by boiling it carefully in two waters, which must be thrown off, the poison is extracted and the cassava rendered fit for food. The poisonous sort is easily known by raising a bit of the bark of the root, and putting the tongue to it. A bitter taste shows poison, but it is probable that even the sweet kind contains an injurious principle. The sap, which, like that of our potatoes, is injurious as an article of food, is used in the "Pepper-pot" of the West Indies, under the name of "Cassereep," as a perfect preservative of meat. This juice put into an earthen vessel with a little water and Chili pepper is said to keep meat, that is immersed in it, good for a great length of time; even for years. No iron or steel must touch the mixture, or it will become sour. This "Pepper-pot," of which we first heard from the late Archbishop Whately, is a most economical meat-safe in a hot climate; any beef, mutton, pork, or fowl that may be left at dinner, if put into the mixture and a little fresh cassereep added, keeps perfectly, though otherwise the heat of the climate or flies would spoil it. Our cook, however, boiled the cassava root as he was in the habit of cooking meat, namely, by filling the pot with it, and then pouring in water, which he allowed to stand on the fire until it had become absorbed and boiled away. This method did not expel the poisonous properties of the root, or render it wholesome; for, notwithstanding our systematic caution in purchasing only the harmless sort, we suffered daily from its effects, and it was only just before the end of our trip that this pernicious mode of boiling it was discovered by us. In ascending 3000 feet from the lowlands to the highlands, or on reaching the low valley of the Shire from the higher grounds, the change of climate was very marked. The heat was oppressive below, the thermometer standing at from 84 degrees to 103 degrees in the shade; and our spirits were as dull and languid as they had been exhilarated on the heights in a temperature cooler by some 20 degrees. The water of the river was sometimes 84 degrees or higher, whilst that we had been drinking in the hill streams was only 65 degrees. It was found necessary to send two of our number across from the Shire to Tette; and Dr. Kirk, with guides from Chibisa, and accompanied by Mr. Rae, the engineer, accomplished the journey. We had found the country to the north and east so very well watered, that no difficulty was anticipated in this respect in a march of less than a hundred miles; but on this occasion our friends suffered severely. The little water to be had at this time of the year, by digging in the beds of dry watercourses, was so brackish as to increase thirst--some of the natives indeed were making salt from it; and when at long intervals a less brackish supply was found, it was nauseous and muddy from the frequent visits of large game. The tsetse abounded. The country was level, and large tracts of it covered with mopane forest, the leaves of which afford but scanty shade to the baked earth, so that scarcely any grass grows upon it. The sun was so hot, that the men frequently jumped from the path, in the vain hope of cooling, for a moment, their scorched feet under the almost shadeless bushes; and the native who carried the provision of salt pork got lost, and came into Tette two days after the rest of the party, with nothing but the fibre of the meat left, the fat, melted by the blazing sun, having all run down his back. This path was soon made a highway for slaving parties by Captain Raposo, the Commandant. The journey nearly killed our two active young friends; and what the slaves must have since suffered on it no one can conceive; but slaving probably can never be conducted without enormous suffering and loss of life. Mankokwe now sent a message to say that he wished us to stop at his village on our way down. He came on board on our arrival there with a handsome present, and said that his young people had dissuaded him from visiting us before; but now he was determined to see what every one else was seeing. A bald square-headed man, who had been his Prime Minister when we came up, was now out of office, and another old man, who had taken his place accompanied the chief. In passing the Elephant Marsh, we saw nine large herds of elephants; they sometimes formed a line two miles long. On the 2nd of November we anchored off Shamoara, and sent the boat to Senna for biscuit and other provisions. Senhor Ferrao, with his wonted generosity, gave us a present of a bullock, which he sent to us in a canoe. Wishing to know if a second bullock would be acceptable to us, he consulted his Portuguese and English dictionary, and asked the sailor in charge if he would take _another_; but Jack, mistaking the Portuguese pronunciation of the letter h, replied, "Oh no, sir, thank you, I don't want an _otter_ in the boat, they are such terrible biters!" We had to ground the vessel on a shallow sandbank every night; she leaked so fast, that in deep water she would have sunk, and the pump had to be worked all day to keep her afloat. Heavy rains fell daily, producing the usual injurious effects in the cabin; and, unable to wait any longer for our associates, who had gone overland from the Shire to Tette, we ran down the Kongone and beached her for repairs. Her Majesty's ship "Lynx," Lieut. Berkeley commanding, called shortly afterwards with supplies; the bar, which had been perfectly smooth for some time before, became rather rough just before her arrival, so that it was two or three days before she could communicate with us. Two of her boats tried to come in on the second day, and one of them, mistaking the passage, capsized in the heavy breakers abreast of the island. Mr. Hunt, gunner, the officer in charge of the second boat, behaved nobly, and by his skilful and gallant conduct succeeded in rescuing every one of the first boat's crew. Of course the things that they were bringing to us were lost, but we were thankful that all the men were saved. The loss of the mail-bags, containing Government despatches and our friends' letters for the past year, was felt severely, as we were on the point of starting on an expedition into the interior, which might require eight or nine months; and twenty months is a weary time to be without news of friends and family. In the repairing of our crazy craft, we received kind and efficient aid from Lieutenant Berkeley, and we were enabled to leave for Tette on December 16th. We had now frequent rains, and the river rose considerably; our progress up the stream was distressingly slow, and it was not until the 2nd of February, 1860, that we reached Tette. Mr. Thornton returned on the same day from a geological tour, by which some Portuguese expected that a fabulous silver-mine would be rediscovered. The tradition in the country is, that the Jesuits formerly knew and worked a precious lode at Chicova. Mr. Thornton had gone beyond Zumbo, in company with a trader of colour; he soon after this left the Zambesi and, joining the expedition of the Baron van der Decken, explored the snow mountain Kilimanjaro, north-west of Zanzibar. Mr. Thornton's companion, the trader, brought back much ivory, having found it both abundant and cheap. He was obliged, however, to pay heavy fines to the Banyai and other tribes, in the country which is coolly claimed in Europe as Portuguese. During this trip of six mouths 200 pieces of cotton cloth of sixteen yards each, besides beads and brass wire, were paid to the different chiefs, for leave to pass through their country. In addition to these sufficiently weighty exactions, the natives of _this dominion_ have got into the habit of imposing fines for alleged milandos, or crimes, which the traders' men may have unwittingly committed. The merchants, however, submit rather than run the risk of fighting. The general monotony of existence at Tette is sometimes relieved by an occasional death or wedding. When the deceased is a person of consequence, the quantity of gunpowder his slaves are allowed to expend is enormous. The expense may, in proportion to their means, resemble that incurred by foolishly gaudy funerals in England. When at Tette, we always joined with sympathizing hearts in aiding, by our presence at the last rites, to soothe the sorrows of the surviving relatives. We are sure that they would have done the same to us had we been the mourners. We never had to complain of want of hospitality. Indeed, the great kindness shown by many of whom we have often spoken, will never be effaced from our memory till our dying day. When we speak of their failings it is in sorrow, not in anger. Their trading in slaves is an enormous mistake. Their Government places them in a false position by cutting them off from the rest of the world; and of this they always speak with a bitterness which, were it heard, might alter the tone of the statesmen of Lisbon. But here there is no press, no booksellers' shops, and scarcely a schoolmaster. Had we been born in similar untoward circumstances--we tremble to think of it! The weddings are celebrated with as much jollity as weddings are anywhere. We witnessed one in the house of our friend the Padre. It being the marriage of his goddaughter, he kindly invited us to be partakers in his joy; and we there became acquainted with old Donna Engenia, who was a married wife and had children, when the slaves came from Cassange, before any of us were born. The whole merry-making was marked by good taste amid propriety. About the only interesting object in the vicinity of Tette is the coal a few miles to the north. There, in the feeders of the stream Revubue, it crops out in cliff sections. The seams are from four to seven feet in thickness; one measured was found to be twenty-five feet thick. Learning that it would be difficult for our party to obtain food beyond Kebrabasa before the new crop came in and knowing the difficulty of hunting for so many men in the wet season, we decided on deferring our departure for the interior until May, and in the mean time to run down once more to the Kongone, in the hopes of receiving letters and despatches from the man-of-war that was to call in March. We left Tette on the 10th, and at Senna heard that our lost mail had been picked up on the beach by natives, west of the Milambe; carried to Quillimane, sent thence to Senna, and, passing us somewhere on the river, on to Tette. At Shupanga the governor informed us that it was a very large mail; no great comfort, seeing it was away up the river. Mosquitoes were excessively troublesome at the harbour, and especially when a light breeze blew from the north over the mangroves. We lived for several weeks in small huts, built by our men. Those who did the hunting for the party always got wet, and were attacked by fever, but generally recovered in time to be out again before the meat was all consumed. No ship appearing, we started off on the 15th of March, and stopped to wood on the Luabo, near an encampment of hippopotamus hunters; our men heard again, through them, of the canoe path from this place to Quillimane, but they declined to point it out. We found our friend Major Sicard at Mazaro with picks, shovels, hurdles, and slaves, having come to build a fort and custom-house at the Kongone. As we had no good reason to hide the harbour, but many for its being made known, we supplied him with a chart of the tortuous branches, which, running among the mangroves, perplex the search; and with such directions as would enable him to find his way down to the river. He had brought the relics of our fugitive mail, and it was a disappointment to find that all had been lost, with the exception of a bundle of old newspapers, two photographs, and three letters, which had been written before we left England. The distance from Mazaro, on the Zambesi side, to the Kwakwa at Nterra, is about six miles, over a surprisingly rich dark soil. We passed the night in the long shed, erected at Nterra, on the banks of this river, for the use of travellers, who have often to wait several days for canoes; we tried to sleep, but the mosquitoes and rats were so troublesome as to render sleep impossible. The rats, or rather large mice, closely resembling _Mus pumilio_ (Smith), of this region, are quite facetious, and, having a great deal of fun in them, often laugh heartily. Again and again they woke us up by scampering over our faces, and then bursting into a loud laugh of He! he! he! at having performed the feat. Their sense of the ludicrous appears to be exquisite; they screamed with laughter at the attempts which disturbed and angry human nature made in the dark to bring their ill-timed merriment to a close. Unlike their prudent European cousins, which are said to leave a sinking ship, a party of these took up their quarters in our leaky and sinking vessel. Quiet and invisible by day, they emerged at night, and cut their funny pranks. No sooner were we all asleep, than they made a sudden dash over the lockers and across our faces for the cabin door, where all broke out into a loud He! he! he! he! he! he! showing how keenly they enjoyed the joke. They next went forward with as much delight, and scampered over the men. Every night they went fore and aft, rousing with impartial feet every sleeper, and laughing to scorn the aimless blows, growls, and deadly rushes of outraged humanity. We observed elsewhere a species of large mouse, nearly allied to _Euryotis unisulcatus_ (F. Cuvier), escaping up a rough and not very upright wall, with six young ones firmly attached to the perineum. They were old enough to be well covered with hair, and some were not detached by a blow which disabled the dam. We could not decide whether any involuntary muscles were brought into play in helping the young to adhere. Their weight seemed to require a sort of cataleptic state of the muscles of the jaw, to enable them to hold on. Scorpions, centipedes, and poisonous spiders also were not unfrequently brought into the ship with the wood, and occasionally found their way into our beds; but in every instance we were fortunate enough to discover and destroy them before they did any harm. Naval officers on this coast report that, when scorpions and centipedes remain a few weeks after being taken on board in a similar manner, their poison loses nearly all its virulence; but this we did not verify. Snakes sometimes came in with the wood, but oftener floated down the river to us, climbing on board with ease by the chain-cable, and some poisonous ones were caught in the cabin. A green snake lived with us several weeks, concealing himself behind the casing of the deckhouse in the daytime. To be aroused in the dark by five feet of cold green snake gliding over one's face is rather unpleasant, however rapid the movement may be. Myriads of two varieties of cockroaches infested the vessel; they not only ate round the roots of our nails, but even devoured and defiled our food, flannels, and boots. Vain were all our efforts to extirpate these destructive pests; if you kill one, say the sailors, a hundred come down to his funeral! In the work of Commodore Owen it is stated that cockroaches, pounded into a paste, form a powerful carminative; this has not been confirmed, but when monkeys are fed on them they are sure to become lean. On coming to Senna, we found that the Zulus had arrived in force for their annual tribute. These men are under good discipline, and never steal from the people. The tax is claimed on the ground of conquest, the Zulus having formerly completely overcome the Senna people, and chased them on to the islands in the Zambesi. Fifty-four of the Portuguese were slain on the occasion, and, notwithstanding the mud fort, the village has never recovered its former power. Fever was now very prevalent, and most of the Portuguese were down with it. For a good view of the adjacent scenery, the hill, Baramuana, behind the village, was ascended. A caution was given about the probability of an attack of fever from a plant that grows near the summit. Dr. Kirk discovered it to be the _Paedevia foetida_, which, when smelt, actually does give headache and fever. It has a nasty fetor, as its name indicates. This is one instance in which fever and a foul smell coincide. In a number of instances offensive effluvia and fever seems to have no connection. Owing to the abundant rains, the crops in the Senna district were plentiful; this was fortunate, after the partial failure of the past two years. It was the 25th of April, 1860, before we reached Tette; here also the crops were luxuriant, and the people said that they had not had such abundance since 1856, the year when Dr. Livingstone came down the river. It is astonishing to any one who has seen the works for irrigation in other countries, as at the Cape and in Egypt, that no attempt has ever been made to lead out the water either of the Zambesi or any of its tributaries; no machinery has ever been used to raise it even from the stream, but droughts and starvations are endured, as if they were inevitable dispensations of Providence, incapable of being mitigated. Feeling in honour bound to return with those who had been the faithful companions of Dr. Livingstone, in 1856, and to whose guardianship and services was due the accomplishment of a journey which all the Portuguese at Tette had previously pronounced impossible, the requisite steps were taken to convey them to their homes. We laid the ship alongside of the island Kanyimbe, opposite Tette; and, before starting for the country of the Makololo, obtained a small plot of land, to form a garden for the two English sailors who were to remain in charge during our absence. We furnished them with a supply of seeds, and they set to work with such zeal, that they certainly merited success. Their first attempt at African horticulture met with failure from a most unexpected source; every seed was dug up and the inside of it eaten by mice. "Yes," said an old native, next morning, on seeing the husks, "that is what happens this month; for it is the mouse month, and the seed should have been sown last mouth, when I sowed mine." The sailors, however, sowed more next day; and, being determined to outwit the mice, they this time covered the beds over with grass. The onions, with other seeds of plants cultivated by the Portuguese, are usually planted in the beginning of April, in order to have the advantage of the cold season; the wheat a little later, for the same reason. If sown at the beginning of the rainy season in November, it runs, as before remarked, entirely to straw; but as the rains are nearly over in May, advantage is taken of low- lying patches, which have been flooded by the river. A hole is made in the mud with a hoe, a few seeds dropped in, and the earth shoved back with the foot. If not favoured with certain misty showers, which, lower down the river, are simply fogs, water is borne from the river to the roots of the wheat in earthern pots; and in about four months the crop is ready for the sickle. The wheat of Tette is exported, as the best grown in the country; but a hollow spot at Maruru, close by Mazaro, yielded very good crops, though just at the level of the sea, as a few inches rise of tide shows. A number of days were spent in busy preparation for our journey; the cloth, beads, and brass wire, for the trip were sewn up in old canvas, and each package had the bearer's name printed on it. The Makololo, who had worked for the Expedition, were paid for their services, and every one who had come down with the Doctor from the interior received a present of cloth and ornaments, in order to protect them from the greater cold of their own country, and to show that they had not come in vain. Though called Makololo by courtesy, as they were proud of the name, Kanyata, the principal headman, was the only real Makololo of the party; and he, in virtue of his birth, had succeeded to the chief place on the death of Sekwebu. The others belonged to the conquered tribes of the Batoka, Bashubia, Ba-Selea, and Barotse. Some of these men had only added to their own vices those of the Tette slaves; others, by toiling during the first two years in navigating canoes, and hunting elephants, had often managed to save a little, to take back to their own country, but had to part with it all for food to support the rest in times of hunger, and, latterly, had fallen into the improvident habits of slaves, and spent their surplus earnings in beer and agua ardiente. Everything being ready on the 15th of May, we started at 2 p.m. from the village where the Makololo had dwelt. A number of the men did not leave with the goodwill which their talk for months before had led us to anticipate; but some proceeded upon being told that they were not compelled to go unless they liked, though others altogether declined moving. Many had taken up with slave-women, whom they assisted in hoeing, and in consuming the produce of their gardens. Some fourteen children had been born to them; and in consequence of now having no chief to order them, or to claim their services, they thought that they were about as well off as they had been in their own country. They knew and regretted that they could call neither wives nor children their own; the slave-owners claimed the whole; but their natural affections had been so enchained, that they clave to the domestic ties. By a law of Portugal the baptized children of slave women are all free; by the custom of the Zambesi that law is void. When it is referred to, the officers laugh and say, "These Lisbon-born laws are very stringent, but somehow, possibly from the heat of the climate, here they lose all their force." Only one woman joined our party--the wife of a Batoka man: she had been given to him, in consideration of his skilful dancing, by the chief, Chisaka. A merchant sent three of his men along with us, with a present for Sekeletu, and Major Sicard also lent us three more to assist us on our return, and two Portuguese gentleman kindly gave us the loan of a couple of donkeys. We slept four miles above Tette, and hearing that the Banyai, who levy heavy fines on the Portuguese traders, lived chiefly on the right bank, we crossed over to the left, as we could not fully trust our men. If the Banyai had come in a threatening manner, our followers might, perhaps, from having homes behind them, have even put down their bundles and run. Indeed, two of them at this point made up their minds to go no further, and turned back to Tette. Another, Monga, a Batoka, was much perplexed, and could not make out what course to pursue, as he had, three years previously, wounded Kanyata, the headman, with a spear. This is a capital offence among the Makololo, and he was afraid of being put to death for it on his return. He tried, in vain, to console himself with the facts that he had neither father, mother, sisters, nor brothers to mourn for him, and that he could die but once. He was good, and would go up to the stars to Yesu, and therefore did not care for death. In spite, however, of these reflections, he was much cast down, until Kanyata assured him that he would never mention his misdeed to the chief; indeed, he had never even mentioned it to the Doctor, which he would assuredly have done had it lain heavy on his heart. We were right glad of Monga's company, for he was a merry good-tempered fellow, and his lithe manly figure had always been in the front in danger; and, from being left-handed, had been easily recognized in the fight with elephants. We commenced, for a certain number of days, with short marches, walking gently until broken in to travel. This is of so much importance, that it occurs to us that more might be made out of soldiers if the first few days' marches were easy, and gradually increased in length and quickness. The nights were cold, with heavy dews and occasional showers, and we had several cases of fever. Some of the men deserted every night, and we fully expected that all who had children would prefer to return to Tette, for little ones are well known to prove the strongest ties, even to slaves. It was useless informing them, that if they wanted to return they had only to come and tell us so; we should not be angry with them for preferring Tette to their own country. Contact with slaves had destroyed their sense of honour; they would not go in daylight, but decamped in the night, only in one instance, however, taking our goods, though, in two more, they carried off their comrades' property. By the time we had got well into the Kebrabasa hills thirty men, nearly a third of the party, had turned back, and it became evident that, if many more left us, Sekeletu's goods could not be carried up. At last, when the refuse had fallen away, no more desertions took place. Stopping one afternoon at a Kebrabasa village, a man, who pretended to be able to change himself into a lion, came to salute us. Smelling the gunpowder from a gun which had been discharged, he went on one side to get out of the wind of the piece, trembling in a most artistic manner, but quite overacting his part. The Makololo explained to us that he was a Pondoro, or a man who can change his form at will, and added that he trembles when he smells gunpowder. "Do you not see how he is trembling now?" We told them to ask him to change himself at once into a lion, and we would give him a cloth for the performance. "Oh no," replied they; "if we tell him so, he may change himself and come when we are asleep and kill us." Having similar superstitions at home, they readily became as firm believers in the Pondoro as the natives of the village. We were told that he assumes the form of a lion and remains in the woods for days, and is sometimes absent for a whole month. His considerate wife had built him a hut or den, in which she places food and beer for her transformed lord, whose metamorphosis does not impair his human appetite. No one ever enters this hut except the Pondoro and his wife, and no stranger is allowed even to rest his gun against the baobab-tree beside it: the Mfumo, or petty chief, of another small village wished to fine our men for placing their muskets against an old tumble-down hut, it being that of the Pondoro. At times the Pondoro employs his acquired powers in hunting for the benefit of the village; and after an absence of a day or two, his wife smells the lion, takes a certain medicine, places it in the forest, and there quickly leaves it, lest the lion should kill even her. This medicine enables the Pondoro to change himself back into a man, return to the village, and say, "Go and get the game that I have killed for you." Advantage is of course taken of what a lion has done, and they go and bring home the buffalo or antelope killed when he was a lion, or rather found when he was patiently pursuing his course of deception in the forest. We saw the Pondoro of another village dressed in a fantastic style, with numerous charms hung round him, and followed by a troop of boys who were honouring him with rounds of shrill cheering. It is believed also that the souls of departed chiefs enter into lions, and render them sacred. On one occasion, when we had shot a buffalo in the path beyond the Kafue, a hungry lion, attracted probably by the smell of the meat, came close to our camp, and roused up all hands by his roaring. Tuba Mokoro, imbued with the popular belief that the beast was a chief in disguise, scolded him roundly during his brief intervals of silence. "You a chief, eh? You call yourself a chief, do you? What kind of chief are you to come sneaking about in the dark, trying to steal our buffalo meat! Are you not ashamed of yourself? A pretty chief truly; you are like the scavenger beetle, and think of yourself only. You have not the heart of a chief; why don't you kill your own beef? You must have a stone in your chest, and no heart at all, indeed!" Tuba Mokoro producing no impression on the transformed chief, one of the men, the most sedate of the party, who seldom spoke, took up the matter, and tried the lion in another strain. In his slow quiet way he expostulated with him on the impropriety of such conduct to strangers, who had never injured him. "We were travelling peaceably through the country back to our own chief. We never killed people, nor stole anything. The buffalo meat was ours, not his, and it did not become a great chief like him to be prowling round in the dark, trying, like a hyena, to steal the meat of strangers. He might go and hunt for himself, as there was plenty of game in the forest." The Pondoro, being deaf to reason, and only roaring the louder, the men became angry, and threatened to send a ball through him if he did not go away. They snatched up their guns to shoot him, but he prudently kept in the dark, outside the luminous circle made by our camp fires, and there they did not like to venture. A little strychnine was put into a piece of meat, and thrown to him, when he soon departed, and we heard no more of the majestic sneaker. The Kebrabasa people were now plumper and in better condition than on our former visits; the harvest had been abundant; they had plenty to eat and drink, and they were enjoying life as much as ever they could. At Defwe's village, near where the ship lay on her first ascent, we found two Mfumos or headmen, the son and son-in-law of the former chief. A sister's son has much more chance of succeeding to a chieftainship than the chief's own offspring, it being unquestionable that the sister's child has the family blood. The men are all marked across the nose and up the middle of the forehead with short horizontal bars or cicatrices; and a single brass earring of two or three inches diameter, like the ancient Egyptian, is worn by the men. Some wear the hair long like the ancient Assyrians and Egyptians, and a few have eyes with the downward and inward slant of the Chinese. After fording the rapid Luia, we left our former path on the banks of the Zambesi, and struck off in a N.W. direction behind one of the hill ranges, the eastern end of which is called Mongwa, the name of an acacia, having a peculiarly strong fetor, found on it. Our route wound up a valley along a small mountain-stream which was nearly dry, and then crossed the rocky spurs of some of the lofty hills. The country was all very dry at the time, and no water was found except in an occasional spring and a few wells dug in the beds of watercourses. The people were poor, and always anxious to convince travellers of the fact. The men, unlike those on the plains, spend a good deal of their time in hunting; this may be because they have but little ground on the hill-sides suitable for gardens, and but little certainty of reaping what may be sown in the valleys. No women came forward in the hamlet, east of Chiperiziwa, where we halted for the night. Two shots had been fired at guinea-fowl a little way off in the valley; the women fled into the woods, and the men came to know if war was meant, and a few of the old folks only returned after hearing that we were for peace. The headman, Kambira, apologized for not having a present ready, and afterwards brought us some meal, a roasted coney (_Hyrax capensis_), and a pot of beer; he wished to be thought poor. The beer had come to him from a distance; he had none of his own. Like the Manganja, these people salute by clapping their hands. When a man comes to a place where others are seated, before sitting down he claps his hands to each in succession, and they do the same to him. If he has anything to tell, both speaker and hearer clap their hands at the close of every paragraph, and then again vigorously at the end of the speech. The guide, whom the headman gave us, thus saluted each of his comrades before he started off with us. There is so little difference in the language, that all the tribes of this region are virtually of one family. We proceeded still in the same direction, and passed only two small hamlets during the day. Except the noise our men made on the march, everything was still around us: few birds were seen. The appearance of a whydahbird showed that he had not yet parted with his fine long plumes. We passed immense quantities of ebony and lignum-vitae, and the tree from whose smooth and bitter bark granaries are made for corn. The country generally is clothed with a forest of ordinary-sized trees. We slept in the little village near Sindabwe, where our men contrived to purchase plenty of beer, and were uncommonly boisterous all the evening. We breakfasted next morning under green wild date-palms, beside the fine flowery stream, which runs through the charming valley of Zibah. We now had Mount Chiperiziwa between us, and part of the river near Morumbwa, having in fact come north about in order to avoid the difficulties of our former path. The last of the deserters, a reputed thief, took French leave of us here. He left the bundle of cloth he was carrying in the path a hundred yards in front of where we halted, but made off with the musket and most of the brass rings and beads of his comrade Shirimba, who had unsuspectingly intrusted them to his care. Proceeding S.W. up this lovely valley, in about an hour's time we reached Sandia's village. The chief was said to be absent hunting, and they did not know when he would return. This is such a common answer to the inquiry after a headman, that one is inclined to think that it only means that they wish to know the stranger's object before exposing their superior to danger. As some of our men were ill, a halt was made here. As we were unable to march next morning, six of our young men, anxious to try their muskets, went off to hunt elephants. For several hours they saw nothing, and some of them, getting tired, proposed to go to a village and buy food. "No!" said Mantlanyane, "we came to hunt, so let us go on." In a short time they fell in with a herd of cow elephants and calves. As soon as the first cow caught sight of the hunters on the rocks above her, she, with true motherly instinct, placed her young one between her fore-legs for protection. The men were for scattering, and firing into the herd indiscriminately. "That won't do," cried Mantlanyane, "let us all fire at this one." The poor beast received a volley, and ran down into the plain, where another shot killed her; the young one escaped with the herd. The men were wild with excitement, and danced round the fallen queen of the forest, with loud shouts and exultant songs. They returned, bearing as trophies the tail and part of the trunk, and marched into camp as erect as soldiers, and evidently feeling that their stature had increased considerably since the morning. Sandia's wife was duly informed of their success, as here a law decrees that half the elephant belongs to the chief on whose ground it has been killed. The Portuguese traders always submit to this tax, and, were it of native origin, it could hardly be considered unjust. A chief must have some source of revenue; and, as many chiefs can raise none except from ivory or slaves, this tax is more free from objections than any other that a black Chancellor of the Exchequer could devise. It seems, however, to have originated with the Portuguese themselves, and then to have spread among the adjacent tribes. The Governors look sharply after any elephant that may be slain on the Crown lands, and demand one of the tusks from their vassals. We did not find the law in operation in any tribe beyond the range of Portuguese traders, or further than the sphere of travel of those Arabs who imitated Portuguese customs in trade. At the Kafue in 1855 the chiefs bought the meat we killed, and demanded nothing as their due; and so it was up the Shire during our visits. The slaves of the Portuguese, who are sent by their masters to shoot elephants, probably connive at the extension of this law, for they strive to get the good will of the chiefs to whose country they come, by advising them to make a demand of half of each elephant killed, and for this advice they are well paid in beer. When we found that the Portuguese argued in favour of this law, we told the natives that they might exact tusks from _them_, but that the English, being different, preferred the pure native custom. It was this which made Sandia, as afterwards mentioned, hesitate; but we did not care to insist on exemption in our favour, where the prevalence of the custom might have been held to justify the exaction. The cutting up of an elephant is quite a unique spectacle. The men stand remind the animal in dead silence, while the chief of the travelling party declares that, according to ancient law, the head and right hind- leg belong to him who killed the beast, that is, to him who inflicted the first wound; the left leg to bins who delivered the second, or first touched the animal after it fell. The meat around the eye to the English, or chief of the travellers, and different parts to the headmen of the different fires, or groups, of which the camp is composed; not forgetting to enjoin the preservation of the fat and bowels for a second distribution. This oration finished, the natives soon become excited, and scream wildly as they cut away at the carcass with a score of spears, whose long handles quiver in the air above their heads. Their excitement becomes momentarily more and more intense, and reaches the culminating point when, as denoted by a roar of gas, the huge mass is laid fairly open. Some jump inside, and roll about there in their eagerness to seize the precious fat, while others run off, screaming, with pieces of the bloody meat, throw it on the grass, and run back for more: all keep talking and shouting at the utmost pitch of their voices. Sometimes two or three, regardless of all laws, seize the same piece of meat, and have a brief fight of words over it. Occasionally an agonized yell bursts forth, and a native emerges out of the moving mass of dead elephant and wriggling humanity, with his hand badly cut by the spear of his excited friend and neighbour: this requires a rag and some soothing words to prevent bad blood. In an incredibly short time tons of meat are cut up, and placed in separate heaps around. Sandia arrived soon after the beast was divided: he is an elderly man, and wears a wig made of "ife" fibre (_sanseviera_) dyed black, and of a fine glossy appearance. This plant is allied to the aloes, and its thick fleshy leaves, in shape somewhat like our sedges, when bruised yield much fine strong fibre, which is made into ropes, nets, and wigs. It takes dyes readily, and the fibre might form a good article of commerce. "Ife" wigs, as we afterwards saw, are not uncommon in this country, though perhaps not so common as hair wigs at home. Sandia's mosamela, or small carved wooden pillow, exactly resembling the ancient Egyptian one, was hung from the back of his neck; this pillow and a sleeping mat are usually carried by natives when on hunting excursions. We had the elephant's fore-foot cooked for ourselves, in native fashion. A large hole was dug in the ground, in which a fire was made; and, when the inside was thoroughly heated, the entire foot was placed in it, and covered over with the hot ashes and soil; another fire was made above the whole, and kept burning all night. We had the foot thus cooked for breakfast next morning, and found it delicious. It is a whitish mass, slightly gelatinous, and sweet, like marrow. A long march, to prevent biliousness, is a wise precaution after a meal of elephant's foot. Elephant's trunk and tongue are also good, and, after long simmering, much resemble the hump of a buffalo and the tongue of an ox; but all the other meat is tough, and, from its peculiar flavour, only to be eaten by a hungry man. The quantities of meat our men devour is quite astounding. They boil as much as their pots will hold, and eat till it becomes physically impossible for them to stow away any more. An uproarious dance follows, accompanied with stentorian song; and as soon as they have shaken their first course down, and washed off the sweat and dust of the after performance, they go to work to roast more: a short snatch of sleep succeeds, and they are up and at it again; all night long it is boil and eat, roast and devour, with a few brief interludes of sleep. Like other carnivora, these men can endure hunger for a much longer period than the mere porridge-eating tribes. Our men can cook meat as well as any reasonable traveller could desire; and, boiled in earthen pots, like Indian chatties, it tastes much better than when cooked in iron ones. CHAPTER V. Magnificent scenery--Method of marching--Hippopotamus killed--Lions and buffalo--Sequasha the ivory-trader. Sandia gave us two guides; and on the 4th of June we left the Elephant valley, taking a westerly course; and, after crossing a few ridges, entered the Chingerere or Paguruguru valley, through which, in the rainy season, runs the streamlet Pajodze. The mountains on our left, between us and the Zambesi, our guides told us have the same name as the valley, but that at the confluence of the Pajodze is called Morumbwa. We struck the river at less than half a mile to the north of the cataract Morumbwa. On climbing up the base of this mountain at Pajodze, we found that we were distant only the diameter of the mountain from the cataract. In measuring the cataract we formerly stood on its southern flank; now we were perched on its northern flank, and at once recognized the onion-shaped mountain, here called Zakavuma, whose smooth convex surface overlooks the broken water. Its bearing by compass was l80 degrees from the spot to which we had climbed, and 700 or 800 yards distant. We now, from this standing-point, therefore, completed our inspection of all Kebrabasa, and saw what, as a whole, was never before seen by Europeans so far as any records show. The remainder of the Kebrabasa path, on to Chicova, was close to the compressed and rocky river. Ranges of lofty tree-covered mountains, with deep narrow valleys, in which are dry watercourses, or flowing rivulets, stretch from the north-west, and are prolonged on the opposite side of the river in a south-easterly direction. Looking back, the mountain scenery in Kebrabasa was magnificent; conspicuous from their form and steep sides, are the two gigantic portals of the cataract; the vast forests still wore their many brilliant autumnal-coloured tints of green, yellow, red, purple, and brown, thrown into relief by the grey bark of the trunks in the background. Among these variegated trees were some conspicuous for their new livery of fresh light-green leaves, as though the winter of others was their spring. The bright sunshine in these mountain forests, and the ever-changing forms of the cloud shadows, gliding over portions of the surface, added fresh charms to scenes already surpassingly beautiful. From what we have seen of the Kebrabasa rocks and rapids, it appears too evident that they must always form a barrier to navigation at the ordinary low water of the river; but the rise of the water in this gorge being as much as eighty feet perpendicularly, it is probable that a steamer might be taken up at high flood, when all the rapids are smoothed over, to run on the Upper Zambesi. The most formidable cataract in it, Morumbwa, has only about twenty feet of fall, in a distance of thirty yards, and it must entirely disappear when the water stands eighty feet higher. Those of the Makololo who worked on board the ship were not sorry at the steamer being left below, as they had become heartily tired of cutting the wood that the insatiable furnace of the "Asthmatic" required. Mbia, who was a bit of a wag, laughingly exclaimed in broken English, "Oh, Kebrabasa good, very good; no let shippee up to Sekeletu, too muchee work, cuttee woodyee, cuttee woodyee: Kebrabasa good." It is currently reported, and commonly believed, that once upon a time a Portuguese named Jose Pedra,--by the natives called Nyamatimbira,--chief, or capitao mor, of Zumbo, a man of large enterprise and small humanity,--being anxious to ascertain if Kebrabasa could be navigated, made two slaves fast to a canoe, and launched it from Chicova into Kebrabasa, in order to see if it would come out at the other end. As neither slaves nor canoe ever appeared again, his Excellency concluded that Kebrabasa was unnavigable. A trader had a large canoe swept away by a sudden rise of the river, and it was found without damage below; but the most satisfactory information was that of old Sandia, who asserted that in flood all Kebrabasa became quite smooth, and he had often seen it so. We emerged from the thirty-five or forty miles of Kebrabasa hills into the Chicova plains on the 7th of June, 1860, having made short marches all the way. The cold nights caused some of our men to cough badly, and colds in this country almost invariably become fever. The Zambesi suddenly expands at Chicova, and assumes the size and appearance it has at Tette. Near this point we found a large seam of coal exposed in the left bank. We met with native travellers occasionally. Those on a long journey carry with them a sleeping-mat and wooden pillow, cooking-pot and bag of meal, pipe and tobacco-pouch, a knife, bow, and arrows, and two small sticks, of from two to three feet in length, for making fire, when obliged to sleep away from human habitations. Dry wood is always abundant, and they get fire by the following method. A notch is cut in one of the sticks, which, with a close-grained outside, has a small core of pith, and this notched stick is laid horizontally on a knife-blade on the ground; the operator squatting, places his great toes on each end to keep all steady, and taking the other wand which is of very hard wood cut to a blunt point, fits it into the notch at right angles; the upright wand is made to spin rapidly backwards and forwards between the palms of the hands, drill fashion, and at the same time is pressed downwards; the friction, in the course of a minute or so, ignites portions of the pith of the notched stick, which, rolling over like live charcoal on to the knife-blade, are lifted into a handful of fine dry grass, and carefully blown, by waving backwards and forwards in the air. It is hard work for the hands to procure fire by this process, as the vigorous drilling and downward pressure requisite soon blister soft palms. Having now entered a country where lions were numerous, our men began to pay greater attention to the arrangements of the camp at night. As they are accustomed to do with their chiefs, they place the white men in the centre; Kanyata, his men, and the two donkeys, camp on our right; Tuba Mokoro's party of Bashubia are in front; Masakasa, and Sininyane's body of Batoka, on the left; and in the rear six Tette men have their fires. In placing their fires they are careful to put them where the smoke will not blow in our faces. Soon after we halt, the spot for the English is selected, and all regulate their places accordingly, and deposit their burdens. The men take it by turns to cut some of the tall dry grass, and spread it for our beds on a spot, either naturally level, or smoothed by the hoe; some, appointed to carry our bedding, then bring our rugs and karosses, and place the three rugs in a row on the grass; Dr. Livingstone's being in the middle, Dr. Kirk's on the right, and Charles Livingstone's on the left. Our bags, rifles, and revolvers are carefully placed at our heads, and a fire made near our feet. We have no tent nor covering of any kind except the branches of the tree under which we may happen to lie; and it is a pretty sight to look up and see every branch, leaf, and twig of the tree stand out, reflected against the clear star- spangled and moonlit sky. The stars of the first magnitude have names which convey the same meaning over very wide tracts of country. Here when Venus comes out in the evenings, she is called Ntanda, the eldest or first-born, and Manjika, the first-born of morning, at other times: she has so much radiance when shining alone, that she casts a shadow. Sirius is named Kuewa usiko, "drawer of night," because supposed to draw the whole night after it. The moon has no evil influence in this country, so far as we know. We have lain and looked up at her, till sweet sleep closed our eyes, unharmed. Four or five of our men were affected with moon-blindness at Tette; though they had not slept out of doors there, they became so blind that their comrades had to guide their hands to the general dish of food; the affection is unknown in their own country. When our posterity shall have discovered what it is which, distinct from foul smells, causes fever, and what, apart from the moon, causes men to be moon-struck, they will pity our dulness of perception. The men cut a very small quantity of grass for themselves, and sleep in fumbas or sleeping-bags, which are double mats of palm-leaf, six feet long by four wide, and sewn together round three parts of the square, and left open only on one side. They are used as a protection from the cold, wet, and mosquitoes, and are entered as we should get into our beds, were the blankets nailed to the top, bottom, and one side of the bedstead. A dozen fires are nightly kindled in the camp; and these, being replenished from time to time by the men who are awakened by the cold, are kept burning until daylight. Abundance of dry hard wood is obtained with little trouble; and burns beautifully. After the great business of cooking and eating is over, all sit round the camp-fires, and engage in talking or singing. Every evening one of the Batoka plays his "sansa," and continues at it until far into the night; he accompanies it with an extempore song, in which he rehearses their deeds ever since they left their own country. At times animated political discussions spring up, and the amount of eloquence expended on these occasions is amazing. The whole camp is aroused, and the men shout to one another from the different fires; whilst some, whose tongues are never heard on any other subject, burst forth into impassioned speech. As a specimen of our mode of marching, we rise about five, or as soon as dawn appears, take a cup of tea and a bit of biscuit; the servants fold up the blankets and stow them away in the bags they carry; the others tie their fumbas and cooking-pots to each end of their carrying-sticks, which are borne on the shoulder; the cook secures the dishes, and all are on the path by sunrise. If a convenient spot can be found we halt for breakfast about nine a.m. To save time, this meal is generally cooked the night before, and has only to be warmed. We continue the march after breakfast, rest a little in the middle of the day, and break off early in the afternoon. We average from two to two-and-a-half miles an hour in a straight line, or as the crow flies, and seldom have more than five or six hours a day of actual travel. This in a hot climate is as much as a man can accomplish without being oppressed; and we always tried to make our progress more a pleasure than a toil. To hurry over the ground, abuse, and look ferocious at one's native companions, merely for the foolish vanity of boasting how quickly a distance was accomplished, is a combination of silliness with absurdity quite odious; while kindly consideration for the feelings of even blacks, the pleasure of observing scenery and everything new as one moves on at an ordinary pace, and the participation in the most delicious rest with our fellows, render travelling delightful. Though not given to over haste, we were a little surprised to find that we could tire our men out; and even the headman, who carried but little more than we did, and never, as we often had to do, hunted in the afternoon, was no better than his comrades. Our experience tends to prove that the European constitution has a power of endurance, even in the tropics, greater than that of the hardiest of the meat-eating Africans. After pitching our camp, one or two of us usually go off to hunt, more as a matter of necessity than of pleasure, for the men, as well as ourselves, must have meat. We prefer to take a man with us to carry home the game, or lead the others to where it lies; but as they frequently grumble and complain of being tired, we do not particularly object to going alone, except that it involves the extra labour of our making a second trip to show the men where the animal that has been shot is to be found. When it is a couple of miles off it is rather fatiguing to have to go twice; more especially on the days when it is solely to supply their wants that, instead of resting ourselves, we go at all. Like those who perform benevolent deeds at home, the tired hunter, though trying hard to live in charity with all men, is strongly tempted to give it up by bringing only sufficient meat for the three whites and leaving the rest; thus sending the "idle ungrateful poor" supperless to bed. And yet it is only by continuance in well-doing, even to the length of what the worldly-wise call weakness, that the conviction is produced anywhere, that our motives are high enough to secure sincere respect. A jungle of mimosa, ebony, and "wait-a-bit" thorn lies between the Chicova flats and the cultivated plain, on which stand the villages of the chief, Chitora. He brought us a present of food and drink, because, as he, with the innate politeness of an African, said, he "did not wish us to sleep hungry: he had heard of the Doctor when he passed down, and had a great desire to see and converse with him; but he was a child then, and could not speak in the presence of great men. He was glad that he had seen the English now, and was sorry that his people were away, or he should have made them cook for us." All his subsequent conduct showed him to be sincere. Many of the African women are particular about the water they use for drinking and cooking, and prefer that which is filtered through sand. To secure this, they scrape holes in the sandbanks beside the stream, and scoop up the water, which slowly filters through, rather than take it from the equally clear and limpid river. This practice is common in the Zambesi, the Rovuma, and Lake Nyassa; and some of the Portuguese at Tette have adopted the native custom, and send canoes to a low island in the middle of the river for water. Chitora's people also obtained their supply from shallow wells in the sandy bed of a small rivulet close to the village. The habit may have arisen from observing the unhealthiness of the main stream at certain seasons. During nearly nine months in the year, ordure is deposited around countless villages along the thousands of miles drained by the Zambesi. When the heavy rains come down, and sweep the vast fetid accumulation into the torrents, the water is polluted with filth; and, but for the precaution mentioned, the natives would prove themselves as little fastidious as those in London who drink the abomination poured into the Thames by Reading and Oxford. It is no wonder that sailors suffered so much from fever after drinking African river water, before the present admirable system of condensing it was adopted in our navy. The scent of man is excessively terrible to game of all kinds, much more so, probably, than the sight of him. A herd of antelopes, a hundred yards off, gazed at us as we moved along the winding path, and timidly stood their ground until half our line had passed, but darted off the instant they "got the wind," or caught the flavour of those who had gone by. The sport is all up with the hunter who gets to the windward of the African beast, as it cannot stand even the distant aroma of the human race, so much dreaded by all wild animals. Is this the fear and the dread of man, which the Almighty said to Noah was to be upon every beast of the field? A lion may, while lying in wait for his prey, leap on a human being as he would on any other animal, save a rhinoceros or an elephant, that happened to pass; or a lioness, when she has cubs, might attack a man, who, passing "up the wind of her," had unconsciously, by his scent, alarmed her for the safety of her whelps; or buffaloes, amid other animals, might rush at a line of travellers, in apprehension of being surrounded by them; but neither beast nor snake will, as a general rule, turn on man except when wounded, or by mistake. If gorillas, unwounded, advance to do battle with him, and beat their breasts in defiance, they are an exception to all wild beasts known to us. From the way an elephant runs at the first glance of man, it is inferred that this huge brute, though really king of beasts, would run even from a child. Our two donkeys caused as much admiration as the three white men. Great was the astonishment when one of the donkeys began to bray. The timid jumped more than if a lion had roared beside them. All were startled, and stared in mute amazement at the harsh-voiced one, till the last broken note was uttered; then, on being assured that nothing in particular was meant, they looked at each other, and burst into a loud laugh at their common surprise. When one donkey stimulated the other to try his vocal powers, the interest felt by the startled visitors, must have equalled that of the Londoners, when they first crowded to see the famous hippopotamus. We were now, when we crossed the boundary rivulet Nyamatarara, out of Chicova and amongst sandstone rocks, similar to those which prevail between Lupata and Kebrabasa. In the latter gorge, as already mentioned, igneous and syenitic masses have been acted on by some great fiery convulsion of nature; the strata are thrown into a huddled heap of confusion. The coal has of course disappeared in Kebrabasa, but is found again in Chicova. Tette grey sandstone is common about Sinjere, and wherever it is seen with fossil wood upon it, coal lies beneath; and here, as at Chicova, some seams crop out on the banks of the Zambesi. Looking southwards, the country is open plain and woodland, with detached hills and mountains in the distance; but the latter are too far off, the natives say, for them to know their names. The principal hills on our right, as we look up stream, are from six to twelve miles away, and occasionally they send down spurs to the river, with brooks flowing through their narrow valleys. The banks of the Zambesi show two well- defined terraces; the first, or lowest, being usually narrow, and of great fertility, while the upper one is a dry grassy plain, a thorny jungle, or a mopane (_Bauhinia_) forest. One of these plains, near the Kafue, is covered with the large stumps and trunks of a petrified forest. We halted a couple of days by the fine stream Sinjere, which comes from the Chiroby-roby hills, about eight miles to the north. Many lumps of coal, brought down by the rapid current, lie in its channel. The natives never seem to have discovered that coal would burn, and, when informed of the fact, shook their heads, smiled incredulously, and said "_Kodi_" (really), evidently regarding it as a mere traveller's tale. They were astounded to see it burning freely on our fire of wood. They told us that plenty of it was seen among the hills; but, being long ago aware that we were now in an immense coalfield, we did not care to examine it further. A dyke of black basaltic rock, called Kakolole, crosses the river near the mouth of the Sinjere; but it has two open gateways in it of from sixty to eighty yards in breadth, and the channel is very deep. On a shallow sandbank, under the dyke, lay a herd of hippopotami in fancied security. The young ones were playing with each other like young puppies, climbing on the backs of their dams, trying to take hold of one another by the jaws and tumbling over into the water. Mbia, one of the Makololo, waded across to within a dozen yards of the drowsy beasts, and shot the father of the herd; who, being very fat, soon floated, and was secured at the village below. The headman of the village visited us while we were at breakfast. He wore a black "ife" wig and a printed shirt. After a short silence he said to Masakasa, "You are with the white people, so why do you not tell them to give me a cloth?" "We are strangers," answered Masakasa, "why do you not bring us some food?" He took the plain hint, and brought us two fowls, in order that we should not report that in passing him we got nothing to eat; and, as usual, we gave a cloth in return. In reference to the hippopotamus he would make no demand, but said he would take what we chose to give him. The men gorged themselves with meat for two days, and cut large quantities into long narrow strips, which they half-dried and half-roasted on wooden frames over the fire. Much game is taken in this neighbourhood in pitfalls. Sharp-pointed stakes are set in the bottom, on which the game tumbles and gets impaled. The natives are careful to warn strangers of these traps, and also of the poisoned beams suspended on the tall trees for the purpose of killing elephants and hippopotami. It is not difficult to detect the pitfalls after one's attention has been called to them; but in places where they are careful to carry the earth off to a distance, and a person is not thinking of such things, a sudden descent of nine feet is an experience not easily forgotten by the traveller. The sensations of one thus instantaneously swallowed up by the earth are peculiar. A momentary suspension of consciousness is followed by the rustling sound of a shower of sand and dry grass, and the half-bewildered thought of where he is, and how he came into darkness. Reason awakes to assure him that he must have come down through that small opening of daylight overhead, and that he is now where a hippopotamus ought to have been. The descent of a hippopotamus pitfall is easy, but to get out again into the upper air is a work of labour. The sides are smooth and treacherous, and the cross reeds, which support the covering, break in the attempt to get out by clutching them. A cry from the depths is unheard by those around, and it is only by repeated and most desperate efforts that the buried alive can regain the upper world. At Tette we are told of a white hunter, of unusually small stature, who plumped into a pit while stalking a guinea-fowl on a tree. It was the labour of an entire forenoon to get out; and he was congratulating himself on his escape, and brushing off the clay from his clothes, when down he went into a second pit, which happened, as is often the case, to be close beside the first, and it was evening before he could work himself out of _that_. Elephants and buffaloes seldom return to the river by the same path on two successive nights, they become so apprehensive of danger from this human art. An old elephant will walk in advance of the herd, and uncover the pits with his trunk, that the others may see the openings and tread on firm ground. Female elephants are generally the victims: more timid by nature than the males, and very motherly in their anxiety for their calves, they carry their trunks up, trying every breeze for fancied danger, which often in reality lies at their feet. The tusker, fearing less, keeps his trunk down, and, warned in time by that exquisitely sensitive organ, takes heed to his ways. Our camp on the Sinjere stood under a wide-spreading wild fig-tree. From the numbers of this family, of large size, dotted over the country, the fig or banyan species would seem to have been held sacred in Africa from the remotest times. The soil teemed with white ants, whose clay tunnels, formed to screen them from the eyes of birds, thread over the ground, up the trunks of trees, and along the branches, from which the little architects clear away all rotten or dead wood. Very often the exact shape of branches is left in tunnels on the ground and not a bit of the wood inside. The first night we passed here these destructive insects ate through our grass-beds, and attacked our blankets, and certain large red-headed ones even bit our flesh. On some days not a single white ant is to be seen abroad; and on others, and during certain hours, they appear out of doors in myriads, and work with extraordinary zeal and energy in carrying bits of dried grass down into their nests. During these busy reaping-fits the lizards and birds have a good time of it, and enjoy a rich feast at the expense of thousands of hapless workmen; and when they swarm they are caught in countless numbers by the natives, and their roasted bodies are spoken of in an unctuous manner as resembling grains of soft rice fried in delicious fresh oil. A strong marauding party of large black ants attacked a nest of white ones near the camp: as the contest took place beneath the surface, we could not see the order of the battle; but it soon became apparent that the blacks had gained the day, and sacked the white town, for they returned in triumph, bearing off the eggs, and choice bits of the bodies of the vanquished. A gift, analogous to that of language, has not been withheld from ants: if part of their building is destroyed, an official is seen coming out to examine the damage; and, after a careful survey of the ruins, he chirrups a few clear and distinct notes, and a crowd of workers begin at once to repair the breach. When the work is completed, another order is given, and the workmen retire, as will appear on removing the soft freshly-built portion. We tried to sleep one rainy might in a native hut, but could not because of attacks by the fighting battalions of a very small species of formica, not more than one-sixteenth of an inch in length. It soon became obvious that they were under regular discipline, and even attempting to carry out the skilful plans and stratagems of some eminent leader. Our hands and necks were the first objects of attack. Large bodies of these little pests were massed in silence round the point to be assaulted. We could hear the sharp shrill word of command two or three times repeated, though until then we had not believed in the vocal power of an ant; the instant after we felt the storming hosts range over head and neck, biting the tender skin, clinging with a death-grip to the hair, and parting with their jaws rather than quit their hold. On our lying down again in the hope of their having been driven off, no sooner was the light out, and all still, than the manoeuvre was repeated. Clear and audible orders were issued, and the assault renewed. It was as hard to sleep in that hut as in the trenches before Sebastopol. The white ant, being a vegetable feeder, devours articles of vegetable origin only, and leather, which, by tanning, is imbued with a vegetable flavour. "A man may be rich to-day and poor to-morrow, from the ravages of white ants," said a Portuguese merchant. "If he gets sick, and unable to look after his goods, his slaves neglect them, and they are soon destroyed by these insects." The reddish ant, in the west called drivers, crossed our path daily, in solid columns an inch wide, and never did the pugnacity of either man or beast exceed theirs. It is a sufficient cause of war if you only approach them, even by accident. Some turn out of the ranks and stand with open mandibles, or, charging with extended jaws, bite with savage ferocity. When hunting, we lighted among them too often; while we were intent on the game, and without a thought of ants, they quietly covered us from head to foot, then all began to bite at the same instant; seizing a piece of the skin with their powerful pincers, they twisted themselves round with it, as if determined to tear it out. Their bites are so terribly sharp that the bravest must run, and then strip to pick off those that still cling with their hooked jaws, as with steel forceps. This kind abounds in damp places, and is usually met with on the banks of streams. We have not heard of their actually killing any animal except the Python, and that only when gorged and quite lethargic, but they soon clear away any dead animal matter; this appears to be their principal food, and their use in the economy of nature is clearly in the scavenger line. We started from the Sinjere on the 12th of June, our men carrying with them bundles of hippopotamus meat for sale, and for future use. We rested for breakfast opposite the Kakolole dyke, which confines the channel, west of the Manyerere mountain. A rogue monkey, the largest by far that we ever saw, and very fat and tame, walked off leisurely from a garden as we approached. The monkey is a sacred animal in this region, and is never molested or killed, because the people believe devoutly that the souls of their ancestors now occupy these degraded forms, and anticipate that they themselves must, sooner or later, be transformed in like manner; a future as cheerless for the black as the spirit-rapper's heaven is for the whites. The gardens are separated from each other by a single row of small stones, a few handfuls of grass, or a slight furrow made by the hoe. Some are enclosed by a reed fence of the flimsiest construction, yet sufficient to keep out the ever wary hippopotamus, who dreads a trap. His extreme caution is taken advantage of by the women, who hang, as a miniature trap-beam, a kigelia fruit with a bit of stick in the end. This protects the maize, of which he is excessively fond. The quantity of hippopotamus meat eaten by our men made some of them ill, and our marches were necessarily short. After three hours' travel on the 13th, we spent the remainder of the day at the village of Chasiribera, on a rivulet flowing through a beautiful valley to the north, which is bounded by magnificent mountain-ranges. Pinkwe, or Mbingwe, otherwise Moeu, forms the south-eastern angle of the range. On the 16th June we were at the flourishing village of Senga, under the headman Manyame, which lies at the foot of the mount Motemwa. Nearly all the mountains in this country are covered with open forest and grass, in colour, according to the season, green or yellow. Many are between 2000 and 3000 feet high, with the sky line fringed with trees; the rocks show just sufficiently for one to observe their stratification, or their granitic form, and though not covered with dense masses of climbing plants, like those in moister eastern climates, there is still the idea conveyed that most of the steep sides are fertile, and none give the impression of that barrenness which, in northern mountains, suggests the idea that the bones of the world are sticking through its skin. The villagers reported that we were on the footsteps of a Portuguese half- caste, who, at Senga, lately tried to purchase ivory, but, in consequence of his having murdered a chief near Zumbo and twenty of his men, the people declined to trade with him. He threatened to take the ivory by force, if they would not sell it; but that same night the ivory and the women were spirited out of the village, and only a large body of armed men remained. The trader, fearing that he might come off second best if it came to blows, immediately departed. Chikwanitsela, or Sekuanangila, is the paramount chief of some fifty miles of the northern bank of the Zambesi in this locality. He lives on the opposite, or southern side, and there his territory is still more extensive. We sent him a present from Senga, and were informed by a messenger next morning that he had a cough and could not come over to see us. "And has his present a cough too," remarked one of our party, "that it does not come to us? Is this the way your chief treats strangers, receives their present, and sends them no food in return?" Our men thought Chikwanitsela an uncommonly stingy fellow; but, as it was possible that some of them might yet wish to return this way, they did not like to scold him more than this, which was sufficiently to the point. Men and women were busily engaged in preparing the ground for the November planting. Large game was abundant; herds of elephants and buffaloes came down to the river in the night, but were a long way off by daylight. They soon adopt this habit in places where they are hunted. The plains we travel over are constantly varying in breadth, according as the furrowed and wooded hills approach or recede from the river. On the southern side we see the hill Bungwe, and the long, level, wooded ridge Nyangombe, the first of a series bending from the S.E. to the N.W. past the Zambesi. We shot an old pallah on the 16th, and found that the poor animal had been visited with more than the usual share of animal afflictions. He was stone-blind in both eyes, had several tumours, and a broken leg, which showed no symptoms of ever having begun to heal. Wild animals sometimes suffer a great deal from disease, and wearily drag on a miserable existence before relieved of it by some ravenous beast. Once we drove off a maneless lion and lioness from a dead buffalo, which had been in the last stage of a decline. They had watched him staggering to the river to quench his thirst, and sprang on him as he was crawling up the bank. One had caught him by the throat, and the other by his high projecting backbone, which was broken by the lion's powerful fangs. The struggle, if any, must have been short. They had only eaten the intestines when we frightened them off. It is curious that this is the part that wild animals always begin with, and that it is also the first choice of our men. Were it not a wise arrangement that only the strongest males should continue the breed, one could hardly help pitying the solitary buffalo expelled from the herd for some physical blemish, or on account of the weakness of approaching old age. Banished from female society, he naturally becomes morose and savage; the necessary watchfulness against enemies is now never shared by others; disgusted, he passes into a state of chronic war with all who enjoy life, and the sooner after his expulsion that he fills the lion's or the wild-dog's maw, the better for himself and for the peace of the country. We encamped on the 20th of June at a spot where Dr. Livingstone, on his journey from the West to the East Coast, was formerly menaced by a chief named Mpende. No offence had been committed against him, but he had firearms, and, with the express object of showing his power, he threatened to attack the strangers. Mpende's counsellors having, however, found out that Dr. Livingstone belonged to a tribe of whom they had heard that "they loved the black man and did not make slaves," his conduct at once changed from enmity to kindness, and, as the place was one well selected for defence, it was perhaps quite as well for Mpende that he decided as he did. Three of his counsellors now visited us, and we gave them a handsome present for their chief, who came himself next morning and made us a present of a goat, a basket of boiled maize, and another of vetches. A few miles above this the headman, Chilondo of Nyamasusa, apologized for not formerly lending us canoes. "He was absent, and his children were to blame for not telling him when the Doctor passed; he did not refuse the canoes." The sight of our men, now armed with muskets, had a great effect. Without any bullying, firearms command respect, and lead men to be reasonable who might otherwise feel disposed to be troublesome. Nothing, however, our fracas with Mpende excepted, could be more peaceful than our passage through this tract of country in 1856. We then had nothing to excite the cupidity of the people, and the men maintained themselves, either by selling elephant's meat, or by exhibiting feats of foreign dancing. Most of the people were very generous and friendly; but the Banyai, nearer to Tette than this, stopped our march with a threatening war-dance. One of our party, terrified at this, ran away, as we thought, insane, and could not, after a painful search of three days, be found. The Banyai, evidently touched by our distress, allowed us to proceed. Through a man we left on an island a little below Mpende's, we subsequently learned that poor Monaheng had fled thither, and had been murdered by the headman for no reason except that he was defenceless. This headman had since become odious to his countrymen, and had been put to death by them. On the 23rd of June we entered Pangola's principal village, which is upwards of a mile from the river. The ruins of a mud wall showed that a rude attempt had been made to imitate the Portuguese style of building. We established ourselves under a stately wild fig-tree, round whose trunk witchcraft medicine had been tied, to protect from thieves the honey of the wild bees, which had their hive in one of the limbs. This is a common device. The charm, or the medicine, is purchased of the dice doctors, and consists of a strip of palm-leaf smeared with something, and adorned with a few bits of grass, wood, or roots. It is tied round the tree, and is believed to have the power of inflicting disease and death on the thief who climbs over it. Superstition is thus not without its uses in certain states of society; it prevents many crimes and misdemeanours, which would occur but for the salutary fear that it produces. Pangola arrived, tipsy and talkative.--"We are friends, we are great friends; I have brought you a basket of green maize--here it is!" We thanked him, and handed him two fathoms of cotton cloth, four times the market-value of his present. No, he would not take so small a present; he wanted a double-barrelled rifle--one of Dixon's best. "We are friends, you know; we are all friends together." But although we were willing to admit that, we could not give him our best rifle, so he went off in high dudgeon. Early next morning, as we were commencing Divine service, Pangola returned, sober. We explained to him that we wished to worship God, and invited him to remain; he seemed frightened, and retired: but after service he again importuned us for the rifle. It was of no use telling him that we had a long journey before us, and needed it to kill game for ourselves.--"He too must obtain meat for himself and people, for they sometimes suffered from hunger." He then got sulky, and his people refused to sell food except at extravagant prices. Knowing that we had nothing to eat, they felt sure of starving us into compliance. But two of our young men, having gone off at sunrise, shot a fine waterbuck, and down came the provision market to the lower figure; they even became eager to sell, but our men were angry with them for trying compulsion, and would not buy. Black greed had outwitted itself, as happens often with white cupidity; and not only here did the traits of Africans remind us of Anglo-Saxons elsewhere: the notoriously ready world- wide disposition to take an unfair advantage of a man's necessities shows that the same mean motives are pretty widely diffused among all races. It may not be granted that the same blood flows in all veins, or that all have descended from the same stock; but the traveller has no doubt that, practically, the white rogue and black are men and brothers. Pangola is the child or vassal of Mpende. Sandia and Mpende are the only independent chiefs from Kebrabasa to Zumbo, and belong to the tribe Manganja. The country north of the mountains here in sight from the Zambesi is called Senga, and its inhabitants Asenga, or Basenga, but all appear to be of the same family as the rest of the Manganja and Maravi. Formerly all the Manganja were united under the government of their great chief, Undi, whose empire extended from Lake Shirwa to the River Loangwa; but after Undi's death it fell to pieces, and a large portion of it on the Zambesi was absorbed by their powerful southern neighbours the Banyai. This has been the inevitable fate of every African empire from time immemorial. A chief of more than ordinary ability arises and, subduing all his less powerful neighbours, founds a kingdom, which he governs more or less wisely till he dies. His successor not having the talents of the conqueror cannot retain the dominion, and some of the abler under-chiefs set up for themselves, and, in a few years, the remembrance only of the empire remains. This, which may be considered as the normal state of African society, gives rise to frequent and desolating wars, and the people long in vain for a power able to make all dwell in peace. In this light, a European colony would be considered by the natives as an inestimable boon to intertropical Africa. Thousands of industrious natives would gladly settle round it, and engage in that peaceful pursuit of agriculture and trade of which they are so fond, and, undistracted by wars or rumours of wars, might listen to the purifying and ennobling truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The Manganja on the Zambesi, like their countrymen on the Shire, are fond of agriculture; and, in addition to the usual varieties of food, cultivate tobacco and cotton in quantities more than equal to their wants. To the question, "Would they work for Europeans?" an affirmative answer may be given, if the Europeans belong to the class which can pay a reasonable price for labour, and not to that of adventurers who want employment for themselves. All were particularly well clothed from Sandia's to Pangola's; and it was noticed that all the cloth was of native manufacture, the product of their own looms. In Senga a great deal of iron is obtained from the ore and manufactured very cleverly. As is customary when a party of armed strangers visits the village, Pangola took the precaution of sleeping in one of the outlying hamlets. No one ever knows, or at any rate will tell, where the chief sleeps. He came not next morning, so we went our way; but in a few moments we saw the rifle-loving chief approaching with some armed men. Before meeting us, he left the path and drew up his "following" under a tree, expecting us to halt, and give him a chance of bothering us again; but, having already had enough of that, we held right on: he seemed dumbfoundered, and could hardly believe his own eyes. For a few seconds he was speechless, but at last recovered so far as to be able to say, "You are passing Pangola. Do you not see Pangola?" Mbia was just going by at the time with the donkey, and, proud of every opportunity of airing his small stock of English, shouted in reply, "All right! then get on." "Click, click, click." On the 26th June we breakfasted at Zumbo, on the left bank of the Loangwa, near the ruins of some ancient Portuguese houses. The Loangwa was too deep to be forded, and there were no canoes on our side. Seeing two small ones on the opposite shore, near a few recently erected huts of two half-castes from Tette, we halted for the ferry-men to come over. From their movements it was evident that they were in a state of rollicking drunkenness. Having a waterproof cloak, which could be inflated into a tiny boat, we sent Mantlanyane across in it. Three half- intoxicated slaves then brought us the shaky canoes, which we lashed together and manned with our own canoe-men. Five men were all that we could carry over at a time; and after four trips had been made the slaves began to clamour for drink; not receiving any, as we had none to give, they grew more insolent, and declared that not another man should cross that day. Sininyane was remonstrating with them, when a loaded musket was presented at him by one of the trio. In an instant the gun was out of the rascal's hands, a rattling shower of blows fell on his back, and he took an involuntary header into the river. He crawled up the bank a sad and sober man, and all three at once tumbled from the height of saucy swagger to a low depth of slavish abjectness. The musket was found to have an enormous charge, and might have blown our man to pieces, but for the promptitude with which his companions administered justice in a lawless land. We were all ferried safely across by 8 o'clock in the evening. In illustration of what takes place where no government, or law exists, the two half-castes, to whom these men belonged, left Tette, with four hundred slaves, armed with the old Sepoy Brown Bess, to hunt elephants and trade in ivory. On our way up, we heard from natives of their lawless deeds, and again, on our way down, from several, who had been eyewitnesses of the principal crime, and all reports substantially agreed. The story is a sad one. After the traders reached Zumbo, one of them, called by the natives Sequasha, entered into a plot with the disaffected headman, Namakusuru, to kill his chief, Mpangwe, in order that Namakusuru might seize upon the chieftainship; and for the murder of Mpangwe the trader agreed to receive ten large tusks of ivory. Sequasha, with a picked party of armed slaves, went to visit Mpangwe who received him kindly, and treated him with all the honour and hospitality usually shown to distinguished strangers, and the women busied themselves in cooking the best of their provisions for the repast to be set before him. Of this, and also of the beer, the half-caste partook heartily. Mpangwe was then asked by Sequasha to allow his men to fire their guns in amusement. Innocent of any suspicion of treachery, and anxious to hear the report of firearms, Mpangwe at once gave his consent; and the slaves rose and poured a murderous volley into the merry group of unsuspecting spectators, instantly killing the chief and twenty of his people. The survivors fled in horror. The children and young women were seized as slaves, and the village sacked. Sequasha sent the message to Namakusuru: "I have killed the lion that troubled you; come and let us talk over the matter." He came and brought the ivory. "No," said the half-caste, "let us divide the land:" and he took the larger share for himself, and compelled the would-be usurper to deliver up his bracelets, in token of subjection on becoming the child or vassal of Sequasha. These were sent in triumph to the authorities at Tette. The governor of Quillimane had told us that he had received orders from Lisbon to take advantage of our passing to re-establish Zumbo; and accordingly these traders had built a small stockade on the rich plain of the right bank of Loangwa, a mile above the site of the ancient mission church of Zumbo, as part of the royal policy. The bloodshed was quite unnecessary, because, the land at Zumbo having of old been purchased, the natives would have always of their own accord acknowledged the right thus acquired; they pointed it out to Dr. Livingstone in 1856 that, though they were cultivating it, is was not theirs, but white man's land. Sequasha and his mate had left their ivory in charge of some of their slaves, who, in the absence of their masters, were now having a gay time of it, and getting drunk every day with the produce of the sacked villages. The head slave came and begged for the musket of the delinquent ferryman, which was returned. He thought his master did perfectly right to kill Mpangwe, when asked to do it for the fee of ten tusks, and he even justified it thus: "If a man invites you to eat, will you not partake?" We continued our journey on the 28th of June. Game was extremely abundant, and there were many lions. Mbia drove one off from his feast on a wild pig, and appropriated what remained of the pork to his own use. Lions are particularly fond of the flesh of wild pigs and zebras, and contrive to kill a large number of these animals. In the afternoon we arrived at the village of the female chief, Ma-mburuma, but she herself was now living on the opposite side of the river. Some of her people called, and said she had been frightened by seeing her son and other children killed by Sequasha, and had fled to the other bank; but when her heart was healed, she would return and live in her own village, and among her own people. She constantly inquired of the black traders, who came up the river, if they had any news of the white man who passed with the oxen. "He has gone down into the sea," was their reply, "but we belong to the same people." "Oh no; you need not tell me that; he takes no slaves, but wishes peace: you are not of his tribe." This antislavery character excites such universal attention, that any missionary who winked at the gigantic evils involved in the slave-trade would certainly fail to produce any good impression on the native mind. CHAPTER VI. Illness--The Honey-guide--Abundance of game--The Baenda pezi--The Batoka. We left the river here, and proceeded up the valley which leads to the Mburuma or Mohango pass. The nights were cold, and on the 30th of June the thermometer was as low as 39 degrees at sunrise. We passed through a village of twenty large huts, which Sequasha had attacked on his return from the murder of the chief, Mpangwe. He caught the women and children for slaves, and carried off all the food, except a huge basket of bran, which the natives are wont to save against a time of famine. His slaves had broken all the water-pots and the millstones for grinding meal. The buaze-trees and bamboos are now seen on the hills; but the jujube or zisyphus, which has evidently been introduced from India, extends no further up the river. We had been eating this fruit, which, having somewhat the taste of apples, the Portuguese call Macaas, all the way from Tette; and here they were larger than usual, though immediately beyond they ceased to be found. No mango-tree either is to be met with beyond this point, because the Portuguese traders never established themselves anywhere beyond Zumbo. Tsetse flies are more numerous and troublesome than we have ever before found them. They accompany us on the march, often buzzing round our heads like a swarm of bees. They are very cunning, and when intending to bite, alight so gently that their presence is not perceived till they thrust in their lance-like proboscis. The bite is acute, but the pain is over in a moment; it is followed by a little of the disagreeable itching of the mosquito's bite. This fly invariably kills all domestic animals except goats and donkeys; man and the wild animals escape. We ourselves were severely bitten on this pass, and so were our donkeys, but neither suffered from any after effects. Water is scarce in the Mburuma pass, except during the rainy season. We however halted beside some fine springs in the bed of the now dry rivulet, Podebode, which is continued down to the end of the pass, and yields water at intervals in pools. Here we remained a couple of days in consequence of the severe illness of Dr. Kirk. He had several times been attacked by fever; and observed that when we were on the cool heights he was comfortable, but when we happened to descend from a high to a lower altitude, he felt chilly, though the temperature in the latter case was 25 degrees higher than it was above; he had been trying different medicines of reputed efficacy with a view to ascertain whether other combinations might not be superior to the preparation we generally used; in halting by this water he suddenly became blind, and unable to stand from faintness. The men, with great alacrity, prepared a grassy bed, on which we laid our companion, with the sad forebodings which only those who have tended the sick in a wild country can realize. We feared that in experimenting he had over-drugged himself; but we gave him a dose of our fever pills; on the third day he rode the one of the two donkeys that would allow itself to be mounted, and on the sixth he marched as well as any of us. This case is mentioned in order to illustrate what we have often observed, that moving the patient from place to place is most conducive to the cure; and the more pluck a man has--the less he gives in to the disease--the less likely he is to die. Supplied with water by the pools in the Podebode, we again joined the Zambesi at the confluence of the rivulet. When passing through a dry district the native hunter knows where to expect water by the animals he sees. The presence of the gemsbuck, duiker or diver, springbucks, or elephants, is no proof that water is near; for these animals roam over vast tracts of country, and may be met scores of miles from it. Not so, however, the zebra, pallah, buffalo, and rhinoceros; their spoor gives assurance that water is not far off, as they never stray any distance from its neighbourhood. But when amidst the solemn stillness of the woods, the singing of joyous birds falls upon the ear, it is certain that water is close at hand. Our men in hunting came on an immense herd of buffaloes, quietly resting in the long dry grass, and began to blaze away furiously at the astonished animals. In the wild excitement of the hunt, which heretofore had been conducted with spears, some forgot to load with ball, and, firing away vigorously with powder only, wondered for the moment that the buffaloes did not fall. The slayer of the young elephant, having buried his four bullets in as many buffaloes, fired three charges of No. 1 shot he had for killing guinea-fowl. The quaint remarks and merriment after these little adventures seemed to the listener like the pleasant prattle of children. Mbia and Mantlanyane, however, killed one buffalo each; both the beasts were in prime condition; the meat was like really excellent beef, with a smack of venison. A troop of hungry, howling hyenas also thought the savour tempting, as they hung round the camp at night, anxious to partake of the feast. They are, fortunately, arrant cowards, and never attack either men or beasts except they can catch them asleep, sick, or at some other disadvantage. With a bright fire at our feet their presence excites no uneasiness. A piece of meat hung on a tree, high enough to make him jump to reach it, and a short spear, with its handle firmly planted in the ground beneath, are used as a device to induce the hyena to commit suicide by impalement. The honey-guide is an extraordinary bird; how is it that every member of its family has learned that all men, white or black, are fond of honey? The instant the little fellow gets a glimpse of a man, he hastens to greet him with the hearty invitation to come, as Mbia translated it, to a bees' hive, and take some honey. He flies on in the proper direction, perches on a tree, and looks back to see if you are following; then on to another and another, until he guides you to the spot. If you do not accept his first invitation he follows you with pressing importunities, quite as anxious to lure the stranger to the bees' hive as other birds are to draw him away from their own nest. Except while on the march, our men were sure to accept the invitation, and manifested the same by a peculiar responsive whistle, meaning, as they said, "All right, go ahead; we are coming." The bird never deceived them, but always guided them to a hive of bees, though some had but little honey in store. Has this peculiar habit of the honey-guide its origin, as the attachment of dogs, in friendship for man, or in love for the sweet pickings of the plunder left on the ground? Self-interest aiding in preservation from danger seems to be the rule in most cases, as, for instance, in the bird that guards the buffalo and rhinoceros. The grass is often so tall and dense that one could go close up to these animals quite unperceived; but the guardian bird, sitting on the beast, sees the approach of danger, flaps its wings and screams, which causes its bulky charge to rush off from a foe he has neither seen nor heard; for his reward the vigilant little watcher has the pick of the parasites on his fat friend. In other cases a chance of escape must be given even by the animal itself to its prey; as in the rattle-snake, which, when excited to strike, cannot avoid using his rattle, any more than the cat can resist curling its tail when excited in the chase of a mouse, or the cobra can refrain from inflating the loose skin of the neck and extending it laterally, before striking its poison fangs into its victim. There are many snakes in parts of this pass; they basked in the warm sunshine, but rustled off through the leaves as we approached. We observed one morning a small one of a deadly poisonous species, named Kakone, on a bush by the wayside, quietly resting in a horizontal position, digesting a lizard for breakfast. Though openly in view, its colours and curves so closely resembled a small branch that some failed to see it, even after being asked if they perceived anything on the bush. Here also one of our number had a glance at another species, rarely seen, and whose swift lightning-like motion has given rise to the native proverb, that when a man sees this snake he will forthwith become a rich man. We slept near the ruined village of the murdered chief, Mpangwe, a lovely spot, with the Zambesi in front, and extensive gardens behind, backed by a semicircle of hills receding up to lofty mountains. Our path kept these mountains on our right, and crossed several streamlets, which seemed to be perennial, and among others the Selole, which apparently flows past the prominent peak Chiarapela. These rivulets have often human dwellings on their banks; but the land can scarcely be said to be occupied. The number of all sorts of game increases wonderfully every day. As a specimen of what may be met with where there are no human habitations, and where no firearms have been introduced, we may mention what at times has actually been seen by us. On the morning of July 3rd a herd of elephants passed within fifty yards of our sleeping-place, going down to the river along the dry bed of a rivulet. Starting a few minutes before the main body, we come upon large flocks of guinea-fowl, shoot what may be wanted for dinner, or next morning's breakfast, and leave them in the path to be picked up by the cook and his mates behind. As we proceed, francolins of three varieties run across the path, and hundreds of turtle-doves rise, with great blatter of wing, and fly off to the trees. Guinea-fowls, francolins, turtle-doves, ducks, and geese are the game birds of this region. At sunrise a herd of pallahs, standing like a flock of sheep, allow the first man of our long Indian file to approach within about fifty yards; but having meat, we let them trot off leisurely and unmolested. Soon afterwards we come upon a herd of waterbucks, which here are very much darker in colour, and drier in flesh, than the same species near the sea. They look at us and we at them; and we pass on to see a herd of doe koodoos, with a magnificently horned buck or two, hurrying off to the dry hill-sides. We have ceased shooting antelopes, as our men have been so often gorged with meat that they have become fat and dainty. They say that they do not want more venison, it is so dry and tasteless, and ask why we do not give them shot to shoot the more savoury guinea-fowl. About eight o'clock the tsetse commence to buzz about us, and bite our hands and necks sharply. Just as we are thinking of breakfast, we meet some buffaloes grazing by the path; but they make off in a heavy gallop at the sight of man. We fire, and the foremost, badly wounded, separates from the herd, and is seen to stop amongst the trees; but, as it is a matter of great danger to follow a wounded buffalo, we hold on our way. It is this losing of wounded animals which makes firearms so annihilating to these beasts of the field, and will in time sweep them all away. The small Enfield bullet is worse than the old round one for this. It often goes through an animal without killing him, and he afterwards perishes, when he is of no value to man. After breakfast we draw near a pond of water; a couple of elephants stand on its bank, and, at a respectful distance behind these monarchs of the wilderness, is seen a herd of zebras, and another of waterbucks. On getting our wind the royal beasts make off at once; but the zebras remain till the foremost man is within eighty yards of them, when old and young canter gracefully away. The zebra has a great deal of curiosity; and this is often fatal to him, for he has the habit of stopping to look at the hunter. In this particular he is the exact opposite of the diver antelope, which rushes off like the wind, and never for a moment stops to look behind, after having once seen or smelt danger. The finest zebra of the herd is sometimes shot, our men having taken a sudden fancy to the flesh, which all declare to be the "king of good meat." On the plains of short grass between us and the river many antelopes of different species are calmly grazing, or reposing. Wild pigs are common, and walk abroad during the day; but are so shy as seldom to allow a close approach. On taking alarm they erect their slender tails in the air, and trot off swiftly in a straight line, keeping their bodies as steady as a locomotive on a railroad. A mile beyond the pool three cow buffaloes with their calves come from the woods, and move out into the plain. A troop of monkeys, on the edge of the forest, scamper back to its depths on hearing the loud song of Singeleka, and old surly fellows, catching sight of the human party, insult it with a loud and angry bark. Early in the afternoon we may see buffaloes again, or other animals. We camp on the dry higher ground, after, as has happened, driving off a solitary elephant. The nights are warmer now, and possess nearly as much of interest and novelty as the days. A new world awakes and comes forth, more numerous, if we may judge by the noise it makes, than that which is abroad by sunlight. Lions and hyenas roar around us, and sometimes come disagreeably near, though they have never ventured into our midst. Strange birds sing their agreeable songs, while others scream and call harshly as if in fear or anger. Marvellous insect-sounds fall upon the ear; one, said by natives to proceed from a large beetle, resembles a succession of measured musical blows upon an anvil, while many others are perfectly indescribable. A little lemur was once seen to leap about from branch to branch with the agility of a frog; it chirruped like a bird, and is not larger than a robin red-breast. Reptiles, though numerous, seldom troubled us; only two men suffered from stings, and that very slightly, during the entire journey, the one supposed that he was bitten by a snake, and the other was stung by a scorpion. Grass-burning has begun, and is producing the blue hazy atmosphere of the American Indian summer, which in Western Africa is called the "smokes." Miles of fire burn on the mountain-sides in the evenings, but go out during the night. From their height they resemble a broad zigzag line of fire in the heavens. We slept on the night of the 6th of July on the left bank of the Chongwe, which comes through a gap in the hills on our right, and is twenty yards wide. A small tribe of the Bazizulu, from the south, under Dadanga, have recently settled here and built a village. Some of their houses are square, and they seem to be on friendly terms with the Bakoa, who own the country. They, like the other natives, cultivate cotton, but of a different species from any we have yet seen in Africa, the staple being very long, and the boll larger than what is usually met with; the seeds cohere as in the Pernambuco kind. They brought the seed with them from their own country, the distant mountains of which in the south, still inhabited by their fellow-countrymen, who possess much cattle and use shields, can be seen from this high ground. These people profess to be children of the great paramount chief, Kwanyakarombe, who is said to be lord of all the Bazizulu. The name of this tribe is known to geographers, who derive their information from the Portuguese, as the _Morusurus_, and the hills mentioned above are said to have been the country of Changamira, the warrior-chief of history, whom no Portuguese ever dared to approach. The Bazizulu seem, by report, to be brave mountaineers; nearer the river, the Sidima inhabit the plains; just as on the north side, the Babimpe live on the heights, about two days off, and the Makoa on or near the river. The chief of the Bazizulu we were now with was hospitable and friendly. A herd of buffaloes came trampling through the gardens and roused up our men; a feat that roaring lions seldom achieved. Our course next day passed over the upper terrace and through a dense thorn jungle. Travelling is always difficult where there is no path, but it is even more perplexing where the forest is cut up by many game-tracks. Here we got separated from one another, and a rhinoceros with angry snort dashed at Dr. Livingstone as he stooped to pick up a specimen of the wild fruit morula; but she strangely stopped stock-still when less than her own length distant, and gave him time to escape; a branch pulled out his watch as he ran, and turning half round to grasp it, he got a distant glance of her and her calf still standing on the selfsame spot, as if arrested in the middle of her charge by an unseen hand. When about fifty yards off, thinking his companions close behind, he shouted "Look out there!" when off she rushed, snorting loudly, in another direction. The Doctor usually went unarmed before this, but never afterwards. A fine eland was shot by Dr. Kirk this afternoon, the first we have killed. It was in first-rate condition, and remarkably fat; but the meat, though so tempting in appearance, severely deranged all who partook of it heartily, especially those who ate of the fat. Natives who live in game countries, and are acquainted with the different kinds of wild animals, have a prejudice against the fat of the eland, the pallah, the zebra, hippopotamus, and pig; they never reject it, however, the climate making the desire for all animal food very strong; but they consider that it causes ulcers and leprosy, while the fat of sheep and of oxen never produces any bad effects, unless the animal is diseased. On the morning of the 9th, after passing four villages, we breakfasted at an old friend's, Tombanyama, who lives now on the mainland, having resigned the reedy island, where he was first seen, to the buffaloes, which used to take his crops and show fight to his men. He keeps a large flock of tame pigeons, and some fine fat capons, one of which he gave us, with a basket of meal. They have plenty of salt in this part of the country, obtaining it from the plains in the usual way. The half-caste partner of Sequasha and a number of his men were staying near. The fellow was very munch frightened when he saw us, and trembled so much when he spoke, that the Makololo and other natives noticed and remarked on it. His fears arose from a sense of guilt, as we said nothing to frighten him, and did not allude to the murder till a few minutes before starting; when it was remarked that Dr. Livingstone having been accredited to the murdered chief, it would be his duty to report on it; and that not even the Portuguese Government would approve of the deed. He defended it by saying that they had put in the right man, the other was a usurper. He was evidently greatly relieved when we departed. In the afternoon we came to an outlying hamlet of Kambadzo, whose own village is on an island, Nyampungo, or Nyangalule, at the confluence of the Kafue. The chief was on a visit here, and they had been enjoying a regular jollification. There had been much mirth, music, drinking, and dancing. The men, and women too, had taken "a wee drap too much," but had not passed the complimentary stage. The wife of the headman, after looking at us a few moments, called out to the others, "Black traders have come before, calling themselves Bazungu, or white men, but now, for the first time, have we seen the real Bazungu." Kambadzo also soon appeared; he was sorry that we had not come before the beer was all done, but he was going back to see if it was all really and entirely finished, and not one little potful left somewhere. This was, of course, mere characteristic politeness, as he was perfectly aware that every drop had been swallowed; so we proceeded on to the Kafue, or Kafuje, accompanied by the most intelligent of his headmen. A high ridge, just before we reached the confluence, commands a splendid view of the two great rivers, and the rich country beyond. Behind, on the north and east, is the high mountain-range, along whose base we have been travelling; the whole range is covered with trees, which appear even on the prominent peaks, Chiarapela, Morindi, and Chiava; at this last the chain bends away to the N.W., and we could see the distant mountains where the chief, Semalembue, gained all our hearts in 1856. On the 9th of July we tried to send Semalembue a present, but the people here refused to incur the responsibility of carrying it. We, who have the art of writing, cannot realize the danger one incurs of being accused of purloining a portion of goods sent from one person to another, when the carrier cannot prove that he delivered all committed to his charge. Rumours of a foray having been made, either by Makololo or Batoka, as far as the fork of the Kafue, were received here by our men with great indignation, as it looked as if the marauders were shutting up the country, which they had been trying so much to open. Below the junction of the rivers, on a shallow sandbank, lay a large herd of hippopotami, their bodies out of the water, like masses of black rock. Kambadzo's island, called Nyangalule, a name which occurs again at the mouth of the Zambesi, has many choice Motsikiri (_Trachelia_) trees on it; and four very conspicuous stately palms growing out of a single stem. The Kafue reminds us a little of the Shire, flowing between steep banks, with fertile land on both sides. It is a smaller river, and has less current. Here it seems to come from the west. The headman of the village, near which we encamped, brought a present of meal, fowls, and sweet potatoes. They have both the red and white varieties of this potato. We have, on several occasions during this journey, felt the want of vegetables, in a disagreeable craving which our diet of meat and native meal could not satisfy. It became worse and worse till we got a meal of potatoes, which allayed it at once. A great scarcity of vegetables prevails in these parts of Africa. The natives collect several kinds of wild plants in the woods, which they use no doubt for the purpose of driving off cravings similar to those we experienced. Owing to the strength of the wind, and the cranky state of the canoes, it was late in the afternoon of the 11th before our party was ferried over the Kafue. After crossing, we were in the Bawe country. Fishhooks here, of native workmanship, were observed to have barbs like the European hooks: elsewhere the point of the hook is merely bent in towards the shank, to have the same effect in keeping on the fish as the barb. We slept near a village a short distance above the ford. The people here are of Batoka origin, the same as many of our men, and call themselves Batonga (independents), or Balengi, and their language only differs slightly from that of the Bakoa, who live between the two rivers Kafue and Loangwa. The paramount chief of the district lives to the west of this place, and is called Nchomokela--an hereditary title: the family burying-place is on a small hill near this village. The women salute us by clapping their hands and lullilooing as we enter and leave a village, and the men, as they think, respectfully clap their hands on their hips. Immense crops of mapira (_holcus sorghum_) are raised; one species of it forms a natural bend on the seed-stalk, so that the massive ear hangs down. The grain was heaped up on wooden stages, and so was a variety of other products. The men are skilful hunters, and kill elephants and buffaloes with long heavy spears. We halted a few minutes on the morning of the 12th July, opposite the narrow island of Sikakoa, which has a village on its lower end. We were here told that Moselekatse's chief town is a month's distance from this place. They had heard, moreover, that the English had come to Moselekatse, and told him it was wrong to kill men; and he had replied that he was born to kill people, but would drop the habit; and, since the English came, he had sent out his men, not to kill as of yore, but to collect tribute of cloth and ivory. This report referred to the arrival of the Rev. R. Moffat, of Kuruman, who, we afterwards found, had established a mission. The statement is interesting as showing that, though imperfectly expressed, the purport of the missionaries' teaching had travelled, in a short time, over 300 miles, and we know not how far the knowledge of the English operations on the coast spread inland. When abreast of the high wooded island Kalabi we came in contact with one of the game-laws of the country, which has come down from the most ancient times. An old buffalo crossed the path a few yards in front of us; our guide threw his small spear at its hip, and it was going off scarcely hurt, when three rifle balls knocked it over. "It is mine," said the guide. He had wounded it first, and the established native game- law is that the animal belongs to the man who first draws blood; the two legs on one side, by the same law, belonged to us for killing it. This beast was very old, blind of one eye, and scabby; the horns, mere stumps, not a foot long, must have atrophied, when by age he lost the strength distinctive of his sex; some eighteen or twenty inches of horn could not well be worn down by mere rubbing against the trees. We saw many buffaloes next day, standing quietly amidst a thick thorn-jungle, through which we were passing. They often stood until we were within fifty or a hundred yards of them. On the 14th July we left the river at the mountain-range, which, lying north-east and south-west across the river, forms the Kariba gorge. Near the upper end of the Kariba rapids, the stream Sanyati enters from the south, and is reported to have Moselekatse's principal cattle-posts at its sources; our route went round the end of the mountains, and we encamped beside the village of the generous chief Moloi, who brought us three immense baskets of fine mapira meal, ten fowls, and two pots of beer. On receiving a present in return, he rose, and, with a few dancing gestures, said or sang, "Motota, Motota, Motota," which our men translated into "thanks." He had visited Moselekatse a few months before our arrival, and saw the English missionaries, living in their wagons. "They told Moselekatse," said he, "they were of his family, or friends, and would plough the land and live at their own expense;" and he had replied, "The land is before you, and I shall come and see you plough." This again was substantially what took place, when Mr. Moffat introduced the missionaries to his old friend, and shows still further that the notion of losing their country by admitting foreigners does not come as the first idea to the native mind. One might imagine that, as mechanical powers are unknown to the heathen, the almost magic operations of machinery, the discoveries of modern science and art, or the presence of the prodigious force which, for instance, is associated with the sight of a man-of-war, would have the effect which miracles once had of arresting the attention and inspiring awe. But, though we have heard the natives exclaim in admiration at the sight of even small illustrations of what science enables us to do--"Ye are gods, and not men"--the heart is unaffected. In attempting their moral elevation, it is always more conducive to the end desired, that the teacher should come unaccompanied by any power to cause either jealousy or fear. The heathen, who have not become aware of the greed and hate which too often characterize the advancing tide of emigration, listen with most attention to the message of Divine love when delivered by men who evidently possess the same human sympathies with themselves. A chief is rather envied his good fortune in first securing foreigners in his town. Jealousy of strangers belongs more to the Arab than to the African character; and if the women are let alone by the traveller, no danger need be apprehended from any save the slave-trading tribes, and not often even from them. We passed through a fertile country, covered with open forest, accompanied by the friendly Bawe. They are very hospitable; many of them were named, among themselves, "the Baenda pezi," or "Go-nakeds," their only clothing being a coat of red ochre. Occasionally stopping at their villages we were duly lullilooed, and regaled with sweet new-made beer, which, being yet unfermented, was not intoxicating. It is in this state called Liting or Makonde. Some of the men carry large shields of buffalo- hide, and all are well supplied with heavy spears. The vicinity of the villages is usually cleared and cultivated in large patches; but nowhere can the country be said to be stocked with people. At every village stands were erected, and piles of the native corn, still unthrashed, placed upon them; some had been beaten out, put into oblong parcels made of grass, and stacked in wooden frames. We crossed several rivulets in our course, as the Mandora, the Lofia, the Manzaia (with brackish water), the Rimbe, the Chibue, the Chezia, the Chilola (containing fragments of coal), which did little more than mark our progress. The island and rapid of Nakansalo, of which we had formerly heard, were of no importance, the rapid being but half a mile long, and only on one side of the island. The island Kaluzi marks one of the numerous places where astronomical observations were made; Mozia, a station where a volunteer poet left us; the island Mochenya, and Mpande island, at the mouth of the Zungwe rivulet, where we left the Zambesi. When favoured with the hospitality and company of the "Go-nakeds," we tried to discover if nudity were the badge of a particular order among the Bawe, but they could only refer to custom. Some among them had always liked it for no reason in particular: shame seemed to lie dormant, and the sense could not be aroused by our laughing and joking them on their appearance. They evidently felt no less decent than we did with our clothes on; but, whatever may be said in favour of nude statues, it struck us that man, in a state of nature, is a most ungainly animal. Could we see a number of the degraded of our own lower classes in like guise, it is probable that, without the black colour which acts somehow as a dress, they would look worse still. In domestic contentions the Bawe are careful not to kill each other; but, when one village goes to war with another, they are not so particular. The victorious party are said to quarter one of the bodies of the enemies they may have killed, and to perform certain ceremonies over the fragments. The vanquished call upon their conquerors to give them a portion also; and, when this request is complied with, they too perform the same ceremonies, and lament over their dead comrade, after which the late combatants may visit each other in peace. Sometimes the head of the slain is taken and buried in an ant-hill, till all the flesh is gone; and the lower jaw is then worn as a trophy by the slayer; but this we never saw, and the foregoing information was obtained only through an interpreter. We left the Zambesi at the mouth of the Zungwe or Mozama or Dela rivulet, up which we proceeded, first in a westerly and then in a north-westerly direction. The Zungwe at this time had no water in its sandy channel for the first eight or ten miles. Willows, however, grow on the banks, and water soon began to appear in the hollows; and a few miles further up it was a fine flowing stream deliciously cold. As in many other streams from Chicova to near Sinamane shale and coal crop out in the bank; and here the large roots of stigmaria or its allied plants were found. We followed the course of the Zungwe to the foot of the Batoka highlands, up whose steep and rugged sides of red and white quartz we climbed till we attained an altitude of upwards of 3000 feet. Here, on the cool and bracing heights, the exhilaration of mind and body was delightful, as we looked back at the hollow beneath covered with a hot sultry glare, not unpleasant now that we were in the mild radiance above. We had a noble view of the great valley in which the Zambesi flows. The cultivated portions are so small in comparison to the rest of the landscape that the valley appears nearly all forest, with a few grassy glades. We spent the night of the 28th July high above the level of the sea, by the rivulet Tyotyo, near Tabacheu or Chirebuechina, names both signifying white mountain; in the morning hoar frost covered the ground, and thin ice was on the pools. Skirting the southern flank of Tabacheu, we soon passed from the hills on to the portion of the vast table-land called Mataba, and looking back saw all the way across the Zambesi valley to the lofty ridge some thirty miles off, which, coming from the Mashona, a country in the S.E., runs to the N.W. to join the ridge at the angle of which are the Victoria Falls, and then bends far to the N.E. from the same point. Only a few years since these extensive highlands were peopled by the Batoka; numerous herds of cattle furnished abundance of milk, and the rich soil amply repaid the labour of the husbandman; now large herds of buffaloes, zebras, and antelopes fatten on the excellent pasture; and on that land, which formerly supported multitudes, not a man is to been seen. In travelling from Monday morning till late on Saturday afternoon, all the way from Tabacheu to Moachemba, which is only twenty-one miles of latitude from the Victoria Falls, and constantly passing the ruined sites of utterly deserted Botoka villages, we did not fall in with a single person. The Batoka were driven out of their noble country by the invasions of Moselekatse and Sebetuane. Several tribes of Bechuana and Basutu, fleeing from the Zulu or Matebele chief Moselekatse reached the Zambesi above the Falls. Coming from a land without rivers, none of them knew how to swim; and one tribe, called the Bamangwato, wishing to cross the Zambesi, was ferried over, men and women separately, to different islands, by one of the Batoka chiefs; the men were then left to starve and the women appropriated by the ferryman and his people. Sekomi, the present chief of the Bamangwato, then an infant in his mother's arms, was enabled, through the kindness of a private Batoka, to escape. This act seems to have made an indelible impression on Sekomi's heart, for though otherwise callous, he still never fails to inquire after the welfare of his benefactor. Sebetuane, with his wonted ability, outwitted the treacherous Batoka, by insisting in the politest manner on their chief remaining at his own side until the people and cattle were all carried safe across; the chief was then handsomely rewarded, both with cattle and brass rings off Sebetuane's own wives. No sooner were the Makololo, then called Basuto, safely over, than they were confronted by the whole Batoka nation; and to this day the Makololo point with pride to the spot on the Lekone, near to which they were encamped, where Sebetuane, with a mere handful of warriors in comparison to the vast horde that surrounded him, stood waiting the onslaught, the warriors in one small body, the women and children guarding the cattle behind them. The Batoka, of course, melted away before those who had been made veterans by years of continual fighting, and Sebetuane always justified his subsequent conquests in that country by alleging that the Batoka had come out to fight with a man fleeing for his life, who had never done them any wrong. They seem never to have been a warlike race; passing through their country, we once observed a large stone cairn, and our guide favoured us with the following account of it:--"Once upon a time, our forefathers were going to fight another tribe, and here they halted and sat down. After a long consultation, they came to the unanimous conclusion that, instead of proceeding to fight and kill their neighbours, and perhaps be killed themselves, it would be more like men to raise this heap of stones, as their protest against the wrong the other tribe had done them, which, having accomplished, they returned quietly home." Such men of peace could not stand before the Makololo, nor, of course, the more warlike Matebele, who coming afterwards, drove even their conquerors, the Makololo, out of the country. Sebetuane, however, profiting by the tactics which he had learned of the Batoka, inveigled a large body of this new enemy on to another island, and after due starvation there overcame the whole. A much greater army of "Moselekatse's own" followed with canoes, but were now baffled by Sebetuane's placing all his people and cattle on an island and so guarding it that none could approach. Dispirited, famished, borne down by fever, they returned to the Falls, and all except five were cut off. But though the Batoka appear never to have had much inclination to fight with men, they are decidedly brave hunters of buffaloes and elephants. They go fearlessly close up to these formidable animals, and kill them with large spears. The Banyai, who have long bullied all Portuguese traders, were amazed at the daring and bravery of the Batoka in coming at once to close quarters with the elephant; and Chisaka, a Portuguese rebel, having formerly induced a body of this tribe to settle with him, ravaged all the Portuguese villas around Tette. They bear the name of Basimilongwe, and some of our men found relations among them. Sininyane and Matenga also, two of our party, were once inveigled into a Portuguese expedition against Mariano, by the assertion that the Doctor had arrived and had sent for them to come down to Senna. On finding that they were entrapped to fight, they left, after seeing an officer with a large number of Tette slaves killed. The Batoka had attained somewhat civilized ideas, in planting and protecting various fruit and oil-seed yielding trees of the country. No other tribe either plants or abstains from cutting down fruit trees, but here we saw some which had been planted in regular rows, and the trunks of which were quite two feet in diameter. The grand old Mosibe, a tree yielding a bean with a thin red pellicle, said to be very fattening, had probably seen two hundred summers. Dr. Kirk found that the Mosibe is peculiar, in being allied to a species met with only in the West Indies. The Motsikiri, sometimes called Mafuta, yields a hard fat, and an oil which is exported from Inhambane. It is said that two ancient Batoka travellers went down as far as the Loangwa, and finding the Macaa tree (_jujube_ or _zisyphus_) in fruit, carried the seed all the way back to the great Falls, in order to plant them. Two of these trees are still to be seen there, the only specimens of the kind in that region. The Batoka had made a near approach to the custom of more refined nations and had permanent graveyards, either on the sides of hills, thus rendered sacred, or under large old shady trees; they reverence the tombs of their ancestors, and plant the largest elephants' tusks, as monuments at the head of the grave, or entirely enclose it with the choicest ivory. Some of the other tribes throw the dead body into the river to be devoured by crocodiles, or, sewing it up in a mat, place it on the branch of a baobab, or cast it in some lonely gloomy spot, surrounded by dense tropical vegetation, where it affords a meal to the foul hyenas; but the Batoka reverently bury their dead, and regard the spot henceforth as sacred. The ordeal by the poison of the muave is resorted to by the Batoka, as well as by the other tribes; but a cock is often made to stand proxy for the supposed witch. Near the confluence of the Kafue the Mambo, or chief, with some of his headmen, came to our sleeping-place with a present; their foreheads were smeared with white flour, and an unusual seriousness marked their demeanour. Shortly before our arrival they had been accused of witchcraft; conscious of innocence, they accepted the ordeal, and undertook to drink the poisoned muave. For this purpose they made a journey to the sacred hill of Nchomokela, on which repose the bodies of their ancestors; and, after a solemn appeal to the unseen spirits to attest the innocence of their children, they swallowed the muave, vomited, and were therefore declared not guilty. It is evident that they believe that the soul has a continued existence; and that the spirits of the departed know what those they have left behind them are doing, and are pleased or not according as their deeds are good or evil; this belief is universal. The owner of a large canoe refused to sell it, because it belonged to the spirit of his father, who helped him when he killed the hippopotamus. Another, when the bargain for his canoe was nearly completed, seeing a large serpent on a branch of the tree overhead, refused to complete the sale, alleging that this was the spirit of his father come to protest against it. Some of the Batoka chiefs must have been men of considerable enterprise; the land of one, in the western part of this country, was protected by the Zambesi on the S., and on the N. and E. lay an impassable reedy marsh, filled with water all the year round, leaving only his western border open to invasion: he conceived the idea of digging a broad and deep canal nearly a mile in length, from the reedy marsh to the Zambesi, and, having actually carried the scheme into execution, he formed a large island, on which his cattle grazed in safety, and his corn ripened from year to year secure from all marauders. Another chief, who died a number of years ago, believed that he had discovered a remedy for tsetse-bitten cattle; his son Moyara showed us a plant, which was new to our botanist, and likewise told us how the medicine was prepared; the bark of the root, and, what might please our homoeopathic friends, a dozen of the tsetse are dried, and ground together into a fine powder. This mixture is administered internally; and the cattle are fumigated by burning under them the rest of the plant collected. The treatment must be continued for weeks, whenever the symptoms of poison appear. This medicine, he frankly admitted, would not cure all the bitten cattle. "For," said he, "cattle, and men too, die in spite of medicine; but should a herd by accident stray into a tsetse district and be bitten, by this medicine of my father, Kampa-kampa, some of them could be saved, while, without it, all would inevitably die." He stipulated that we were not to show the medicine to other people, and if ever we needed it in this region we must employ him; but if we were far off we might make it ourselves; and when we saw it cure the cattle think of him, and send him a present. Our men made it known everywhere that we wished the tribes to live in peace, and would use our influence to induce Sekeletu to prevent the Batoka of Moshobotwane and the Makololo under-chiefs making forays into their country: they had already suffered severely, and their remonstrances with their countryman, Moshobotwane, evoked only the answer, "The Makololo have given me a spear; why should I not use it?" He, indeed, it was who, being remarkably swift of foot, first guided the Makololo in their conquest of the country. In the character of peacemakers, therefore, we experienced abundant hospitality; and, from the Kafue to the Falls, none of our party was allowed to suffer hunger. The natives sent to our sleeping-places generous presents of the finest white meal, and fat capons to give it a relish, great pots of beer to comfort our hearts, together with pumpkins, beans, and tobacco, so that we "should sleep neither hungry nor thirsty." In travelling from the Kafue to the Zungwe we frequently passed several villages in the course of a day's march. In the evening came deputies from the villages, at which we could not stay to sleep, with liberal presents of food. It would have pained them to have allowed strangers to pass without partaking of their hospitality; repeatedly were we hailed from huts, and asked to wait a moment and drink a little of the beer, which was brought with alacrity. Our march resembled a triumphant procession. We entered and left every village amidst the cheers of its inhabitants; the men clapping their hands, and the women lullilooing, with the shrill call, "Let us sleep," or "Peace." Passing through a hamlet one day, our guide called to the people, "Why do you not clap your hands and salute when you see men who are wishing to bring peace to the land?" When we halted for the night it was no uncommon thing for the people to prepare our camp entirely of their own accord; some with hoes quickly smoothed the ground for our beds, others brought dried grass and spread it carefully over the spot; some with their small axes speedily made a bush fence to shield us from the wind; and if, as occasionally happened, the water was a little distance off, others hastened and brought it with firewood to cook our food with. They are an industrious people, and very fond of agriculture. For hours together we marched through unbroken fields of mapira, or native corn, of a great width; but one can give no idea of the extent of land under the hoe as compared with any European country. The extent of surface is so great that the largest fields under culture, when viewed on a wide landscape, dwindle to mere spots. When taken in connection with the wants of the people, the cultivation on the whole is most creditable to their industry. They erect numerous granaries which give their villages the appearance of being large; and, when the water of the Zambesi has subsided, they place large quantities of grain, tied up in bundles of grass, and well plastered over with clay, on low sand islands for protection from the attacks of marauding mice and men. Owing to the ravages of the weevil, the native corn can hardly be preserved until the following crop comes in. However largely they may cultivate, and however abundant the harvest, it must all be consumed in a year. This may account for their making so much of it into beer. The beer these Batoka or Bawe brew is not the sour and intoxicating boala or pombe found among some other tribes, but sweet, and highly nutritive, with only a slight degree of acidity, sufficient to render it a pleasant drink. The people were all plump, and in good condition; and we never saw a single case of intoxication among them, though all drank abundance of this liting, or sweet beer. Both men and boys were eager to work for very small pay. Our men could hire any number of them to carry their burdens for a few beads a day. Our miserly and dirty ex-cook had an old pair of trousers that some one had given to him; after he had long worn them himself, with one of the sorely decayed legs he hired a man to carry his heavy load a whole day; a second man carried it the next day for the other leg, and what remained of the old garment, without the buttons, procured the labour of another man for the third day. Men of remarkable ability have risen up among the Africans from time to time, as amongst other portions of the human family. Some have attracted the attention, and excited the admiration of large districts by their wisdom. Others, apparently by the powers of ventriloquism, or by peculiar dexterity in throwing the spear, or shooting with the bow, have been the wonder of their generation; but the total absence of literature leads to the loss of all former experience, and the wisdom of the wise has not been handed down. They have had their minstrels too, but mere tradition preserves not their effusions. One of these, and apparently a genuine poet, attached himself to our party for several days, and whenever we halted, sang our praises to the villagers, in smooth and harmonious numbers. It was a sort of blank verse, and each line consisted of five syllables. The song was short when it first began, but each day he picked up more information about us, and added to the poem until our praises became an ode of respectable length. When distance from home compelled his return he expressed his regret at leaving us, and was, of course, paid for his useful and pleasant flatteries. Another, though a less gifted son of song, belonged to the Batoka of our own party. Every evening, while the others were cooking, talking, or sleeping, he rehearsed his songs, containing a history of everything he had seen in the land of the white men, and on the way back. In composing, extempore, any new piece, he was never at a loss; for if the right word did not come he halted not, but eked out the measure with a peculiar musical sound meaning nothing at all. He accompanied his recitations on the _sansa_, an instrument figured in the woodcut, the nine iron keys of which are played with the thumbs, while the fingers pass behind to hold it. The hollow end and ornaments face the breast of the player. Persons of a musical turn, if too poor to buy a sansa, may be seen playing vigorously on an instrument made with a number of thick corn-stalks sewn together, as a sansa frame, and keys of split bamboo, which, though making but little sound, seems to soothe the player himself. When the instrument is played with a calabash as a sounding board, it emits a greater volume of sound. Pieces of shells and tin are added to make a jingling accompaniment, and the calabash is also ornamented. After we had passed up, a party of slaves, belonging to the two native Portuguese who assassinated the chief, Mpangwe, and took possession of his lands at Zumbo, followed on our footsteps, and representing themselves to be our "children," bought great quantities of ivory from the Bawe, for a few coarse beads a tusk. They also purchased ten large new canoes to carry it, at the rate of six strings of red or white beads, or two fathoms of grey calico, for each canoe, and, at the same cheap rate, a number of good-looking girls. CHAPTER VII. The Victoria Falls of the Zambesi--Marvellous grandeur of the Cataracts--The Makololo's town--The Chief Sekeletu. During the time we remained at Motunta a splendid meteor was observed to lighten the whole heavens. The observer's back was turned to it, but on looking round the streak of light was seen to remain on its path some seconds. This streak is usually explained to be only the continuance of the impression made by the shining body on the retina. This cannot be, as in this case the meteor was not actually seen and yet the streak was clearly perceived. The rays of planets and stars also require another explanation than that usually given. Fruit-trees and gigantic wild fig-trees, and circles of stones on which corn safes were placed, with worn grindstones, point out where the villages once stood. The only reason now assigned for this fine country remaining desolate is the fear of fresh visitations by the Matebele. The country now slopes gradually to the west into the Makololo Valley. Two days' march from the Batoka village nearest the highlands, we met with some hunters who were burning the dry grass, in order to attract the game by the fresh vegetation which speedily springs up afterwards. The grass, as already remarked, is excellent for cattle. One species, with leaves having finely serrated edges, and of a reddish-brown colour, we noticed our men eating: it tastes exactly like liquorice-root, and is named kezu- kezu. The tsetse, known to the Batoka by the name "ndoka," does not exist here, though buffaloes and elephants abound. A small trap in the path, baited with a mouse, to catch spotted cats (_F. Genetta_), is usually the first indication that we are drawing near to a village; but when we get within the sounds of pounding corn, cockcrowing, or the merry shouts of children at play, we know that the huts are but a few yards off, though the trees conceal them from view. We reached, on the 4th of August, Moachemba, the first of the Batoka villages which now owe allegiance to Sekeletu, and could see distinctly with the naked eye, in the great valley spread out before us, the columns of vapour rising from the Victoria Falls, though upwards of 20 miles distant. We were informed that, the rains having failed this year, the corn crops had been lost, and great scarcity and much hunger prevailed from Sesheke to Linyanti. Some of the reports which the men had heard from the Batoka of the hills concerning their families, were here confirmed. Takelang's wife had been killed by Mashotlane, the headman at the Falls, on a charge, as usual, of witchcraft. Inchikola's two wives, believing him to be dead, had married again; and Masakasa was intensely disgusted to hear that two years ago his friends, upon a report of his death, threw his shield over the Falls, slaughtered all his oxen, and held a species of wild Irish wake, in honour of his memory: he said he meant to disown them, and to say, when they come to salute him, "I am dead. I am not here. I belong to another world, and should stink if I came among you." All the sad news we had previously heard, of the disastrous results which followed the attempt of a party of missionaries, under the Rev. H. Helmore, to plant the gospel at Linyanti, were here fully confirmed. Several of the missionaries and their native attendants, from Kuruman, had succumbed to the fever, and the survivors had retired some weeks before our arrival. We remained the whole of the 7th beside the village of the old Batoka chief, Moshobotwane, the stoutest man we have seen in Africa. The cause of our delay here was a severe attack of fever in Charles Livingstone. He took a dose of our fever pills; was better on the 8th, and marched three hours; then on the 9th marched eight miles to the Great Falls, and spent the rest of the day in the fatiguing exercise of sight-seeing. We were in the very same valley as Linyanti, and this was the same fever which treated, or rather maltreated, with only a little Dover's powder, proved so fatal to poor Helmore; the symptoms, too, were identical with those afterwards described by non-medical persons as those of poison. We gave Moshobotwane a present, and a pretty plain exposition of what we thought of his bloody forays among his Batoka brethren. A scolding does most good to the recipient, when put alongside some obliging act. He certainly did not take it ill, as was evident from what he gave us in return; which consisted of a liberal supply of meal, milk, and an ox. He has a large herd of cattle, and a tract of fine pasture-land on the beautiful stream Lekone. A home-feeling comes over one, even in the interior of Africa, at seeing once more cattle grazing peacefully in the meadows. The tsetse inhabits the trees which bound the pasture-land on the west; so, should the herdsman forget his duty, the cattle straying might be entirely lost. The women of this village were more numerous than the men, the result of the chief's marauding. The Batoko wife of Sima came up from the Falls, to welcome her husband back, bringing a present of the best fruits of the country. Her husband was the only one of the party who had brought a wife from Tette, namely, the girl whom he obtained from Chisaka for his feats of dancing. According to our ideas, his first wife could hardly have been pleased at seeing the second and younger one; but she took her away home with her, while the husband remained with us. In going down to the Fall village we met several of the real Makololo. They are lighter in colour than the other tribes, being of a rich warm brown; and they speak in a slow deliberate manner, distinctly pronouncing every word. On reaching the village opposite Kalai, we had an interview with the Makololo headman, Mashotlane: he came to the shed in which we were seated, a little boy carrying his low three- legged stool before him: on this he sat down with becoming dignity, looked round him for a few seconds, then at us, and, saluting us with "Rumela" (good morning, or hail), he gave us some boiled hippopotamus meat, took a piece himself, and then handed the rest to his attendants, who soon ate it up. He defended his forays on the ground that, when he went to collect tribute, the Batoka attacked him, and killed some of his attendants. The excuses made for their little wars are often the very same as those made by Caesar in his "Commentaries." Few admit, like old Moshobotwane, that they fought because they had the power, and a fair prospect of conquering. We found here Pitsane, who had accompanied the Doctor to St. Paul de Loanda. He had been sent by Sekeletu to purchase three horses from a trading party of Griquas from Kuruman, who charged nine large tusks apiece for very wretched animals. In the evening, when all was still, one of our men, Takelang, fired his musket, and cried out, "I am weeping for my wife: my court is desolate: I have no home;" and then uttered a loud wail of anguish. We proceeded next morning, 9th August, 1860, to see the Victoria Falls. Mosi-oa-tunya is the Makololo name and means smoke sounding; Seongo or Chongwe, meaning the Rainbow, or the place of the Rainbow, was the more ancient term they bore. We embarked in canoes, belonging to Tuba Mokoro, "smasher of canoes," an ominous name; but he alone, it seems, knew the medicine which insures one against shipwreck in the rapids above the Falls. For some miles the river was smooth and tranquil, and we glided pleasantly over water clear as crystal, and past lovely islands densely covered with a tropical vegetation. Noticeable among the many trees were the lofty Hyphaene and Borassus palms; the graceful wild date-palm, with its fruit in golden clusters, and the umbrageous mokononga, of cypress form, with its dark-green leaves and scarlet fruit. Many flowers peeped out near the water's edge, some entirely new to us, and others, as the convolvulus, old acquaintances. But our attention was quickly called from the charming islands to the dangerous rapids, down which Tuba might unintentionally shoot us. To confess the truth, the very ugly aspect of these roaring rapids could scarcely fail to cause some uneasiness in the minds of new-comers. It is only when the river is very low, as it was now, that any one durst venture to the island to which we were bound. If one went during the period of flood, and fortunately hit the island, he would be obliged to remain there till the water subsided again, if he lived so long. Both hippopotami and elephants have been known to be swept over the Falls, and of course smashed to pulp. Before entering the race of waters, we were requested not to speak, as our talking might diminish the virtue of the medicine; and no one with such boiling eddying rapids before his eyes, would think of disobeying the orders of a "canoe-smasher." It soon became evident that there was sound sense in this request of Tuba's, although the reason assigned was not unlike that of the canoe-man from Sesheke, who begged one of our party not to whistle, because whistling made the wind come. It was the duty of the man at the bow to look out ahead for the proper course, and when he saw a rock or snag, to call out to the steersman. Tuba doubtless thought that talking on board might divert the attention of his steersman, at a time when the neglect of an order, or a slight mistake, would be sure to spill us all into the chafing river. There were places where the utmost exertions of both men had to be put forth in order to force the canoe to the only safe part of the rapid, and to prevent it from sweeping down broadside on, where in a twinkling we should have found ourselves floundering among the plotuses and cormorants, which were engaged in diving for their breakfast of small fish. At times it seemed as if nothing could save us from dashing in our headlong race against the rocks which, now that the river was low, jutted out of the water; but just at the very nick of time, Tuba passed the word to the steersman, and then with ready pole turned the canoe a little aside, and we glided swiftly past the threatened danger. Never was canoe more admirably managed: once only did the medicine seem to have lost something of its efficacy. We were driving swiftly down, a black rock over which the white foam flew, lay directly in our path, the pole was planted against it as readily as ever, but it slipped, just as Tuba put forth his strength to turn the bow off. We struck hard, and were half-full of water in a moment; Tuba recovered himself as speedily, shoved off the bow, and shot the canoe into a still shallow place, to bale out the water. Here we were given to understand that it was not the medicine which was at fault; that had lost none of its virtue; the accident was owing entirely to Tuba having started without his breakfast. Need it be said we never let Tuba go without that meal again? We landed at the head of Garden Island, which is situated near the middle of the river and on the lip of the Falls. On reaching that lip, and peering over the giddy height, the wondrous and unique character of the magnificent cascade at once burst upon us. It is rather a hopeless task to endeavour to convey an idea of it in words, since, as was remarked on the spot, an accomplished painter, even by a number of views, could but impart a faint impression of the glorious scene. The probable mode of its formation may perhaps help to the conception of its peculiar shape. Niagara has been formed by a wearing back of the rock over which the river falls; and during a long course of ages, it has gradually receded, and left a broad, deep, and pretty straight trough in front. It goes on wearing back daily, and may yet discharge the lakes from which its river--the St. Lawrence--flows. But the Victoria Falls have been formed by a crack right across the river, in the hard, black, basaltic rock which there formed the bed of the Zambesi. The lips of the crack are still quite sharp, save about three feet of the edge over which the river rolls. The walls go sheer down from the lips without any projecting crag, or symptoms of stratification or dislocation. When the mighty rift occurred, no change of level took place in the two parts of the bed of the river thus rent asunder, consequently, in coming down the river to Garden Island, the water suddenly disappears, and we see the opposite side of the cleft, with grass and trees growing where once the river ran, on the same level as that part of its bed on which we sail. The first crack is, in length, a few yards more than the breadth of the Zambesi, which by measurement we found to be a little over 1860 yards, but this number we resolved to retain as indicating the year in which the Fall was for the first time carefully examined. The main stream here runs nearly north and south, and the cleft across it is nearly east and west. The depth of the rift was measured by lowering a line, to the end of which a few bullets and a foot of white cotton cloth were tied. One of us lay with his head over a projecting crag, and watched the descending calico, till, after his companions had paid out 310 feet, the weight rested on a sloping projection, probably 50 feet from the water below, the actual bottom being still further down. The white cloth now appeared the size of a crown-piece. On measuring the width of this deep cleft by sextant, it was found at Garden Island, its narrowest part, to be eighty yards, and at its broadest somewhat more. Into this chasm, of twice the depth of Niagara-fall, the river, a full mile wide, rolls with a deafening roar; and this is Mosi-oa-tunya, or the Victoria Falls. Looking from Garden Island, down to the bottom of the abyss, nearly half a mile of water, which has fallen over that portion of the Falls to our right, or west of our point of view, is seen collected in a narrow channel twenty or thirty yards wide, and flowing at exactly right angles to its previous course, to our left; while the other half, or that which fell over the eastern portion of the Falls, is seen in the left of the narrow channel below, coming towards our right. Both waters unite midway, in a fearful boiling whirlpool, and find an outlet by a crack situated at right angles to the fissure of the Falls. This outlet is about 1170 yards from the western end of the chasm, and some 600 from its eastern end; the whirlpool is at its commencement. The Zambesi, now apparently not more than twenty or thirty yards wide, rushes and surges south, through the narrow escape-channel for 130 yards; then enters a second chasm somewhat deeper, and nearly parallel with the first. Abandoning the bottom of the eastern half of this second chasm to the growth of large trees, it turns sharply off to the west, and forms a promontory, with the escape-channel at its point, of 1170 yards long, and 416 yards broad at the base. After reaching this base, the river runs abruptly round the head of another promontory, and flows away to the east, in a third chasm; then glides round a third promontory, much narrower than the rest, and away back to the west, in a fourth chasm; and we could see in the distance that it appeared to round still another promontory, and bend once more in another chasm towards the east. In this gigantic, zigzag, yet narrow trough, the rocks are all so sharply cut and angular, that the idea at once arises that the hard basaltic trap must have been riven into its present shape by a force acting from beneath, and that this probably took place when the ancient inland seas were let off by similar fissures nearer the ocean. The land beyond, or on the south of the Falls, retains, as already remarked, the same level as before the rent was made. It is as if the trough below Niagara were bent right and left, several times before it reached the railway bridge. The land in the supposed bends being of the same height as that above the Fall, would give standing-places, or points of view, of the same nature as that from the railway-bridge, but the nearest would be only eighty yards, instead of two miles (the distance to the bridge) from the face of the cascade. The tops of the promontories are in general flat, smooth, and studded with trees. The first, with its base on the east, is at one place so narrow, that it would be dangerous to walk to its extremity. On the second, however, we found a broad rhinoceros path and a hut; but, unless the builder were a hermit, with a pet rhinoceros, we cannot conceive what beast or man ever went there for. On reaching the apex of this second eastern promontory we saw the great river, of a deep sea-green colour, now sorely compressed, gliding away, at least 400 feet below us. Garden Island, when the river is low, commands the best view of the Great Fall chasm, as also of the promontory opposite, with its grove of large evergreen trees, and brilliant rainbows of three-quarters of a circle, two, three, and sometimes even four in number, resting on the face of the vast perpendicular rock, down which tiny streams are always running to be swept again back by the upward rushing vapour. But as, at Niagara, one has to go over to the Canadian shore to see the chief wonder--the Great Horse-shoe Fall--so here we have to cross over to Moselekatse's side to the promontory of evergreens, for the best view of the principal Falls of Mosi-oa-tunya. Beginning, therefore, at the base of this promontory, and facing the Cataract, at the west end of the chasm, there is, first, a fall of thirty-six yards in breadth, and of course, as they all are, upwards of 310 feet in depth. Then Boaruka, a small island, intervenes, and next comes a great fall, with a breadth of 573 yards; a projecting rock separates this from a second grand fall of 325 yards broad; in all, upwards of 900 yards of perennial Falls. Further east stands Garden Island; then, as the river was at its lowest, came a good deal of the bare rock of its bed, with a score of narrow falls, which, at the time of flood, constitute one enormous cascade of nearly another half-mile. Near the east end of the chasm are two larger falls, but they are nothing at low water compared to those between the islands. The whole body of water rolls clear over, quite unbroken; but, after a descent of ten or more feet, the entire mass suddenly becomes like a huge sheet of driven snow. Pieces of water leap off it in the form of comets with tails streaming behind, till the whole snowy sheet becomes myriads of rushing, leaping, aqueous comets. This peculiarity was not observed by Charles Livingstone at Niagara, and here it happens, possibly from the dryness of the atmosphere, or whatever the cause may be which makes every drop of Zambesi water appear to possess a sort of individuality. It runs off the ends of the paddles, and glides in beads along the smooth surface, like drops of quicksilver on a table. Here we see them in a conglomeration, each with a train of pure white vapour, racing down till lost in clouds of spray. A stone dropped in became less and less to the eye, and at last disappeared in the dense mist below. Charles Livingstone had seen Niagara, and gave Mosi-oa-tunya the palm, though now at the end of a drought, and the river at its very lowest. Many feel a disappointment on first seeing the great American Falls, but Mosi-oa-tunya is so strange, it must ever cause wonder. In the amount of water, Niagara probably excels, though not during the months when the Zambesi is in flood. The vast body of water, separating in the comet- like forms described, necessarily encloses in its descent a large volume of air, which, forced into the cleft, to an unknown depth, rebounds, and rushes up loaded with vapour to form the three or even six columns, as if of steam, visible at the Batoka village Moachemba, twenty-one miles distant. On attaining a height of 200, or at most 300 feet from the level of the river above the cascade, this vapour becomes condensed into a perpetual shower of fine rain. Much of the spray, rising to the west of Garden Island, falls on the grove of evergreen trees opposite; and from their leaves, heavy drops are for ever falling, to form sundry little rills, which, in running down the steep face of rock, are blown off and turned back, or licked off their perpendicular bed, up into the column from which they have just descended. The morning sun gilds these columns of watery smoke with all the glowing colours of double or treble rainbows. The evening sun, from a hot yellow sky, imparts a sulphureous hue, and gives one the impression that the yawning gulf might resemble the mouth of the bottomless pit. No bird sits and sings on the branches of the grove of perpetual showers, or ever builds its nest there. We saw hornbills and flocks of little black weavers flying across from the mainland to the islands, and from the islands to the points of the promontories and back again, but they uniformly shunned the region of perpetual rain, occupied by the evergreen grove. The sunshine, elsewhere in this land so overpowering, never penetrates the deep gloom of that shade. In the presence of the strange Mosi-oa-tunya, we can sympathize with those who, when the world was young, peopled earth, air, and river, with beings not of mortal form. Sacred to what deity would be this awful chasm and that dark grove, over which hovers an ever-abiding "pillar of cloud"? The ancient Batoka chieftains used Kazeruka, now Garden Island, and Boaruka, the island further west, also on the lip of the Falls, as sacred spots for worshipping the Deity. It is no wonder that under the cloudy columns, and near the brilliant rainbows, with the ceaseless roar of the cataract, with the perpetual flow, as if pouring forth from the hand of the Almighty, their souls should be filled with reverential awe. It inspired wonder in the native mind throughout the interior. Among the first questions asked by Sebituane of Mr. Oswell and Dr. Livingstone, in 1851, was, "Have you any smoke soundings in your country," and "what causes the smoke to rise for ever so high out of water?" In that year its fame was heard 200 miles off, and it was approached within two days; but it was seen by no European till 1855, when Dr. Livingstone visited it on his way to the East Coast. Being then accompanied as far as this Fall by Sekeletu and 200 followers, his stay was necessarily short; and the two days there were employed in observations for fixing the geographical position of the place, and turning the showers, that at times sweep from the columns of vapour across the island, to account, in teaching the Makololo arboriculture, and making that garden from which the natives named the island; so that he did not visit the opposite sides of the cleft, nor see the wonderful course of the river beyond the Falls. The hippopotami had destroyed the trees which were then planted; and, though a strong stockaded hedge was made again, and living orange-trees, cashew- nuts, and coffee seeds put in afresh, we fear that the perseverance of the hippopotami will overcome the obstacle of the hedge. It would require a resident missionary to rear European fruit-trees. The period at which the peach and apricot come into blossom is about the end of the dry season, and artificial irrigation is necessary. The Batoka, the only arboriculturists in the country, rear native fruit-trees alone--the mosibe, the motsikiri, the boma, and others. When a tribe takes an interest in trees, it becomes more attached to the spot on which they are planted, and they prove one of the civilizing influences. Where one Englishman goes, others are sure to follow. Mr. Baldwin, a gentleman from Natal, succeeded in reaching the Falls guided by his pocket-compass alone. On meeting the second subject of Her Majesty, who had ever beheld the greatest of African wonders, we found him a sort of prisoner at large. He had called on Mashotlane to ferry him over to the north side of the river, and, when nearly over, he took a bath, by jumping in and swimming ashore. "If," said Mashotlane, "he had been devoured by one of the crocodiles which abound there, the English would have blamed us for his death. He nearly inflicted a great injury upon us, therefore, we said, he must pay a fine." As Mr. Baldwin had nothing with him wherewith to pay, they were taking care of him till he should receive beads from his wagon, two days distant. Mashotlane's education had been received in the camp of Sebituane, where but little regard was paid to human life. He was not yet in his prime, and his fine open countenance presented to us no indication of the evil influences which unhappily, from infancy, had been at work on his mind. The native eye was more penetrating than ours; for the expression of our men was, "He has drunk the blood of men--you may see it in his eyes." He made no further difficulty about Mr. Baldwin; but the week after we left he inflicted a severe wound on the head of one of his wives with his rhinoceros-horn club. She, being of a good family, left him, and we subsequently met her and another of his wives proceeding up the country. The ground is strewn with agates for a number of miles above the Falls; but the fires, which burn off the grass yearly, have injured most of those on the surface. Our men were delighted to hear that they do as well as flints for muskets; and this with the new ideas of the value of gold (_dalama_) and malachite, that they had acquired at Tette, made them conceive that we were not altogether silly in picking up and looking at stones. Marching up the river, we crossed the Lekone at its confluence, about eight miles above the island Kalai, and went on to a village opposite the Island Chundu. Nambowe, the headman, is one of the Matebele or Zulus, who have had to flee from the anger of Moselekatse, to take refuge with the Makololo. We spent Sunday, the 12th, at the village of Molele, a tall old Batoka, who was proud of having formerly been a great favourite with Sebituane. In coming hither we passed through patches of forest abounding in all sorts of game. The elephants' tusks, placed over graves, are now allowed to decay, and the skulls, which the former Batoka stuck on poles to ornament their villages, not being renewed, now crumble into dust. Here the famine, of which we had heard, became apparent, Molele's people being employed in digging up the _tsitla_ root out of the marshes, and cutting out the soft core of the young palm-trees, for food. The village, situated on the side of a wooded ridge, commands an extensive view of a great expanse of meadow and marsh lying along the bank of the river. On these holmes herds of buffaloes and waterbucks daily graze in security, as they have in the reedy marshes a refuge into which they can run on the approach of danger. The pretty little tianyane or ourebi is abundant further on, and herds of blue weldebeests or brindled gnus (_Katoblepas Gorgon_) amused us by their fantastic capers. They present a much more ferocious aspect than the lion himself, but are quite timid. We never could, by waving a red handkerchief, according to the prescription, induce them to venture near to us. It may therefore be that the red colour excites their fury only when wounded or hotly pursued. Herds of lechee or lechwe now enliven the meadows; and they and their younger brother, the graceful poku, smaller, and of a rounder contour, race together towards the grassy fens. We venture to call the poku after the late Major Vardon, a noble-hearted African traveller; but fully anticipate that some aspiring Nimrod will prefer that his own name should go down to posterity on the back of this buck. Midway between Tabacheu and the Great Falls the streams begin to flow westward. On the other side they begin to flow east. Large round masses of granite, somewhat like old castles, tower aloft about the Kalomo. The country is an elevated plateau, and our men knew and named the different plains as we passed them by. On the 13th we met a party from Sekeletu, who was now at Sesheke. Our approach had been reported, and they had been sent to ask the Doctor what the price of a horse ought to be; and what he said, that they were to give and no more. In reply they were told that by their having given nine large tusks for one horse before the Doctor came, the Griquas would naturally imagine that the price was already settled. It was exceedingly amusing to witness the exact imitation they gave of the swagger of a certain white with whom they had been dealing, and who had, as they had perceived, evidently wished to assume an air of indifference. Holding up the head and scratching the beard it was hinted might indicate not indifference, but vermin. It is well that we do not always know what they say about us. The remarks are often not quite complimentary, and resemble closely what certain white travellers say about the blacks. We made our camp in the afternoon abreast of the large island called Mparira, opposite the mouth of the Chobe. Francolins, quails, and guinea- fowls, as well as larger game, were abundant. The Makololo headman, Mokompa, brought us a liberal present; and in the usual way, which is considered politeness, regretted he had no milk, as his cows were all dry. We got some honey here from the very small stingless bee, called, by the Batoka, moandi, and by others, the kokomatsane. This honey is slightly acid, and has an aromatic flavour. The bees are easily known from their habit of buzzing about the eyes, and tickling the skin by sucking it as common flies do. The hive has a tube of wax like a quill, for its entrance, and is usually in the hollows of trees. Mokompa feared that the tribe was breaking up, and lamented the condition into which they had fallen in consequence of Sekeletu's leprosy; he did not know what was to become of them. He sent two canoes to take us up to Sesheke; his best canoe had taken ivory up to the chief, to purchase goods of some native traders from Benguela. Above the Falls the paddlers always stand in the canoes, using long paddles, ten feet in length, and changing from side to side without losing the stroke. Mochokotsa, a messenger from Sekeletu, met us on the 17th, with another request for the Doctor to take ivory and purchase a horse. He again declined to interfere. None were to come up to Sekeletu but the Doctor; and all the men who had had smallpox at Tette, three years ago, were to go back to Moshobotwane, and he would sprinkle medicine over them, to drive away the infection, and prevent it spreading in the tribe. Mochokotsa was told to say to Sekeletu that the disease was known of old to white men, and we even knew the medicine to prevent it; and, were there any danger now, we should be the first to warn him of it. Why did not he go himself to have Moshobotwane sprinkle medicine to drive away his leprosy. We were not afraid of his disease, nor of the fever that had killed the teachers and many Makololo at Linyanti. As this attempt at quarantine was evidently the suggestion of native doctors to increase their own importance, we added that we had no food, and would hunt next day for game, and the day after; and, should we be still ordered purification by their medicine, we should then return to our own country. The message was not all of our dictation, our companions interlarded it with their own indignant protests, and said some strong things in the Tette dialect about these "doctor things" keeping them back from seeing their father; when to their surprise Mochokotsa told them he knew every word they were saying, as he was of the tribe Bazizulu, and defied them to deceive him by any dialect, either of the Mashona on the east, or of the Mambari on the west. Mochokotsa then repeated our message twice, to be sure that he had it every word, and went back again. These chiefs' messengers have most retentive memories; they carry messages of considerable length great distances, and deliver them almost word for word. Two or three usually go together, and when on the way the message is rehearsed every night, in order that the exact words may be kept to. One of the native objections to learning to write is, that these men answer the purpose of transmitting intelligence to a distance as well as a letter would; and, if a person wishes to communicate with any one in the town, the best way to do so is either to go to or send for him. And as for corresponding with friends very far off, that is all very well for white people, but the blacks have no friends to whom to write. The only effective argument for the learning to read is, that it is their duty to know the revelation from their Father in Heaven, as it stands in the Book. Our messenger returned on the evening of the following day with "You speak truly," says Sekeletu, "the disease is old, come on at once, do not sleep in the path; for I am greatly desirous (_tlologelecoe_) to see the Doctor." After Mochokotsa left us, we met some of Mokompa's men bringing back the ivory, as horses were preferred to the West-Coast goods. They were the bearers of instructions to Mokompa, and as these instructions illustrate the government of people who have learned scarcely anything from Europeans, they are inserted, though otherwise of no importance. Mashotlane had not behaved so civilly to Mr. Baldwin as Sekeletu had ordered him to do to all Englishmen. He had been very uncivil to the messengers sent by Moselekatse with letters from Mr. Moffat, treated them as spies, and would not land to take the bag until they moved off. On our speaking to him about this, he justified his conduct on the plea that he was set at the Falls for the very purpose of watching these, their natural enemies; and how was he to know that they had been sent by Mr. Moffat? Our men thereupon reported at head-quarters that Mashotlane had cursed the Doctor. The instructions to Mokompa, from Sekeletu, were to "go and tell Mashotlane that he had offended greatly. He had not cursed Monare (Dr. Livingstone) but Sebituane, as Monare was now in the place of Sebituane, and he reverenced him as he had done his father. Any fine taken from Mr. Baldwin was to be returned at once, as he was not a Boer but an Englishman. Sekeletu was very angry, and Mokompa must not conceal the message." On finding afterwards that Mashotlane's conduct had been most outrageous to the Batoka, Sekeletu sent for him to come to Sesheke, in order that he might have him more under his own eye; but Mashotlane, fearing that this meant the punishment of death, sent a polite answer, alleging that he was ill and unable to travel. Sekeletu tried again to remove Mashotlane from the Falls, but without success. In theory the chief is absolute and quite despotic; in practice his authority is limited, and he cannot, without occasionally putting refractory headmen to death, force his subordinates to do his will. Except the small rapids by Mparira island, near the mouth of the Chobe, the rest of the way to Sesheke by water is smooth. Herds of cattle of two or three varieties graze on the islands in the river: the Batoka possessed a very small breed of beautiful shape, and remarkably tame, and many may still be seen; a larger kind, many of which have horns pendent, and loose at the roots; and a still larger sort, with horns of extraordinary dimensions,--apparently a burden for the beast to carry. This breed was found in abundance at Lake Ngami. We stopped at noon at one of the cattle-posts of Mokompa, and had a refreshing drink of milk. Men of his standing have usually several herds placed at different spots, and the owner visits each in turn, while his head-quarters are at his village. His son, a boy of ten, had charge of the establishment during his father's absence. According to Makololo ideas, the cattle-post is the proper school in which sons should be brought up. Here they receive the right sort of education--the knowledge of pasture and how to manage cattle. Strong easterly winds blow daily from noon till midnight, and continue till the October or November rains set in. Whirlwinds, raising huge pillars of smoke from burning grass and weeds, are common in the forenoon. We were nearly caught in an immense one. It crossed about twenty yards in front of us, the wind apparently rushing into it from all points of the compass. Whirling round and round in great eddies, it swept up hundreds of feet into the air a continuous dense dark cloud of the black pulverized soil, mixed with dried grass, off the plain. Herds of the new antelopes, lechwe, and poku, with the kokong, or gnus, and zebras stood gazing at us as we passed. The mirage lifted them at times halfway to the clouds, and twisted them and the clumps of palms into strange unearthly forms. The extensive and rich level plains by the banks, along the sides of which we paddled, would support a vast population, and might be easily irrigated from the Zambesi. If watered, they would yield crops all the year round, and never suffer loss by drought. The hippopotamus is killed here with long lance-like spears. We saw two men, in a light canoe, stealing noiselessly down on one of these animals thought to be asleep; but it was on the alert, and they had quickly to retreat. Comparatively few of these animals now remain between Sesheke and the Falls, and they are uncommonly wary, as it is certain death for one to be caught napping in the daytime. On the 18th we entered Sesheke. The old town, now in ruins, stands on the left bank of the river. The people have built another on the same side, a quarter of a mile higher up, since their headman Moriantsiane was put to death for bewitching the chief with leprosy. Sekeletu was on the right bank, near a number of temporary huts. A man hailed us from the chiefs quarters, and requested us to rest under the old Kotla, or public meeting-place tree. A young Makololo, with the large thighs which Zulus and most of this tribe have, crossed over to receive orders from the chief, who had not shown himself to the people since he was affected with leprosy. On returning he ran for Mokele, the headman of the new town, who, after going over to Sekeletu, came back and conducted us to a small but good hut, and afterwards brought us a fine fat ox, as a present from the chief. "This is a time of hunger," he said, "and we have no meat, but we expect some soon from the Barotse Valley." We were entirely out of food when we reached Sesheke. Never was better meat than that of the ox Sekeletu sent, and infinitely above the flesh of all kinds of game is beef! A constant stream of visitors rolled in on us the day after our arrival. Several of them, who had suffered affliction during the Doctor's absence, seemed to be much affected on seeing him again. All were in low spirits. A severe drought had cut off the crops, and destroyed the pasture of Linyanti, and the people were scattered over the country in search of wild fruits, and the hospitality of those whose ground-nuts (_Arachis hypogoea_) had not failed. Sekeletu's leprosy brought troops of evils in its train. Believing himself bewitched, he had suspected a number of his chief men, and had put some, with their families, to death; others had fled to distant tribes, and were living in exile. The chief had shut himself up, and allowed no one to come into his presence but his uncle Mamire. Ponwane, who had been as "head and eyes" to him, had just died; evidence, he thought, of the potent spells of those who hated all who loved the chief. The country was suffering grievously, and Sebituane's grand empire was crumbling to pieces. A large body of young Barotse had revolted and fled to the north; killing a man by the way, in order to put a blood-feud between Masiko, the chief to whom they were going, and Sekeletu. The Batoka under Sinamane, and Muemba, were independent, and Mashotlane at the Falls was setting Sekeletu's authority virtually at defiance. Sebituane's wise policy in treating the conquered tribes on equal terms with his own Makololo, as all children of the chief, and equally eligible to the highest honours, had been abandoned by his son, who married none but Makololo women, and appointed to office none but Makololo men. He had become unpopular among the black tribes, conquered by the spear but more effectually won by the subsequent wise and just government of his father. Strange rumours were afloat respecting the unseen Sekeletu; his fingers were said to have grown like eagle's claws, and his face so frightfully distorted that no one could recognize him. Some had begun to hint that he might not really be the son of the great Sebituane, the founder of the nation, strong in battle, and wise in the affairs of state. "In the days of the Great Lion" (Sebituane), said his only sister, Moriantsiane's widow, whose husband Sekeletu had killed, "we had chiefs and little chiefs and elders to carry on the government, and the great chief, Sebituane, knew them all, and everything they did, and the whole country was wisely ruled; but now Sekeletu knows nothing of what his underlings do, and they care not for him, and the Makololo power is fast passing away." {3} The native doctors had given the case of Sekeletu up. They could not cure him, and pronounced the disease incurable. An old doctress from the Manyeti tribe had come to see what she could do for him, and on her skill he now hung his last hopes. She allowed no one to see him, except his mother and uncle, making entire seclusion from society an essential condition of the much longed-for cure. He sent, notwithstanding, for the Doctor; and on the following day we all three were permitted to see him. He was sitting in a covered wagon, which was enclosed by a high wall of close-set reeds; his face was only slightly disfigured by the thickening of the skin in parts, where the leprosy had passed over it; and the only peculiarity about his hands was the extreme length of his finger-nails, which, however, was nothing very much out of the way, as all the Makololo gentlemen wear them uncommonly long. He has the quiet, unassuming manners of his father, Sebituane, speaks distinctly, in a low pleasant voice, and appears to be a sensible man, except perhaps on the subject of his having been bewitched; and in this, when alluded to, he exhibits as firm a belief as if it were his monomania. "Moriantsiane, my aunt's husband, tried the bewitching medicine first on his wife, and she is leprous, and so is her head-servant; then, seeing that it succeeded, he gave me a stronger dose in the cooked flesh of a goat, and I have had the disease ever since. They have lately killed Ponwane, and, as you see, are now killing me." Ponwane had died of fever a short time previously. Sekeletu asked us for medicine and medical attendance, but we did not like to take the case out of the hands of the female physician already employed, it being bad policy to appear to undervalue any of the profession; and she, being anxious to go on with her remedies, said "she had not given him up yet, but would try for another month; if he was not cured by that time, then she would hand him over to the white doctors." But we intended to leave the country before a month was up; so Mamire, with others, induced the old lady to suspend her treatment for a little. She remained, as the doctors stipulated, in the chief's establishment, and on full pay. Sekeletu was told plainly that the disease was unknown in our country, and was thought exceedingly obstinate of cure; that we did not believe in his being bewitched, and we were willing to do all we could to help him. This was a case for disinterested benevolence; no pay was expected, but considerable risk incurred; yet we could not decline it, as we had the trading in horses. Having, however, none of the medicines usually employed in skin diseases with us, we tried the local application of lunar caustic, and hydriodate of potash internally; and with such gratifying results, that Mamire wished the patient to be smeared all over with a solution of lunar caustic, which he believed to be of the same nature as the blistering fluid formerly applied to his own knee by Mr. Oswell. _Its_ power he considered irresistible, and he would fain have had anything like it tried on Sekeletu. It was a time of great scarcity and hunger, but Sekeletu treated us hospitably, preparing tea for us at every visit we paid him. With the tea we had excellent American biscuit and preserved fruits, which had been brought to him all the way from Benguela. The fruits he most relished were those preserved in their own juices; plums, apples, pears, strawberries, and peaches, which we have seen only among Portuguese and Spaniards. It made us anxious to plant the fruit-tree seeds we had brought, and all were pleased with the idea of having these same fruits in their own country. Mokele, the headman of Sesheke, and Sebituane's sister, Manchunyane, were ordered to provide us with food, as Sekeletu's wives, to whom this duty properly belonged, were at Linyanti. We found a black trader from the West Coast, and some Griqua traders from the South, both in search of ivory. Ivory is dear at Sesheke; but cheaper in the Batoka country, from Sinamane's to the Kafue, than anywhere else. The trader from Benguela took orders for goods for his next year's trip, and offered to bring tea, coffee, and sugar at cent. per cent. prices. As, in consequence of a hint formerly given, the Makololo had secured all the ivory in the Batoga country to the east, by purchasing it with hoes, the Benguela traders found it unprofitable to go thither for slaves. They assured us that without ivory the trade in slaves did not pay. In this way, and by the orders of Sekeletu, an extensive slave-mart was closed. These orders were never infringed except secretly. We discovered only two or three cases of their infraction. Sekeletu was well pleased with the various articles we brought for him, and inquired if a ship could not bring his sugar-mill and the other goods we had been obliged to leave behind at Tette. On hearing that there was a possibility of a powerful steamer ascending as far as Sinamane's, but never above the Grand Victoria Falls, he asked, with charming simplicity, if a cannon could not blow away the Falls, so as to allow the vessel to come up to Sesheke. To save the tribe from breaking up, by the continual loss of real Makololo, it ought at once to remove to the healthy Batoka highlands, near the Kafue. Fully aware of this, Sekeletu remarked that all his people, save two, were convinced that, if they remained in the lowlands, a few years would suffice to cut off all the real Makololo; they came originally from the healthy South, near the confluence of the Likwa and Namagari, where fever is almost unknown, and its ravages had been as frightful among them here, as amongst Europeans on the Coast. Sebituane's sister described its first appearance among the tribe, after their settling in the Barotse Valley on the Zambesi. Many of them were seized with a shivering sickness, as if from excessive cold; they had never seen the like before. They made great fires, and laid the shivering wretches down before them; but, pile on wood as they might, they could not raise heat enough to drive the cold out of the bodies of the sufferers, and they shivered on till they died. But, though all preferred the highlands, they were afraid to go there, lest the Matebele should come and rob them of their much-loved cattle. Sebituane, with all his veterans, could not withstand that enemy; and how could they be resisted, now that most of the brave warriors were dead? The young men would break, and run away the moment they saw the terrible Matebele, being as much afraid of them as the black conquered tribes are of the Makololo. "But if the Doctor and his wife," said the chiefs and counsellors, "would come and live with us, we would remove to the highlands at once, as Moselekatse would not attack a place where the daughter of his friend, Moffat, was living." The Makololo are by far the most intelligent and enterprising of the tribes we have met. None but brave and daring men remained long with Sebituane, his stern discipline soon eradicated cowardice from his army. Death was the inevitable doom of the coward. If the chief saw a man running away from the fight, he rushed after him with amazing speed, and cut him down; or waited till he returned to the town, and then summoned the deserter into his presence. "You did not wish to die on the field, you wished to die at home, did you? you shall have your wish!" and he was instantly led off and executed. The present race of young men are inferior in most respects to their fathers. The old Makololo had many manly virtues; they were truthful, and never stole, excepting in what they considered the honourable way of lifting cattle in fair fight. But this can hardly be said of their sons; who, having been brought up among the subjected tribes, have acquired some of the vices peculiar to a menial and degraded race. A few of the old Makololo cautioned us not to leave any of our property exposed, as the blacks were great thieves; and some of our own men advised us to be on our guard, as the Makololo also would steal. A very few trifling articles were stolen by a young Makololo; and he, on being spoken to on the subject, showed great ingenuity in excusing himself, by a plausible and untruthful story. The Makololo of old were hard workers, and did not consider labour as beneath them; but their sons never work, regarding it as fit only for the Mashona and Makalaka servants. Sebituane, seeing that the rival tribes had the advantage over his, in knowing how to manage canoes, had his warriors taught to navigate; and his own son, with his companions, paddled the chief's canoe. All the dishes, baskets, stools, and canoes are made by the black tribes called Manyeti and Matlotlora. The houses are built by the women and servants. The Makololo women are vastly superior to any we have yet seen. They are of a light warm brown complexion, have pleasant countenances, and are remarkably quick of apprehension. They dress neatly, wearing a kilt and mantle, and have many ornaments. Sebituane's sister, the head lady of Sesheke, wore eighteen solid brass rings, as thick as one's finger, on each leg, and three of copper under each knee; nineteen brass rings on her left arm, and eight of brass and copper on her right, also a large ivory ring above each elbow. She had a pretty bead necklace, and a bead sash encircled her waist. The weight of the bright brass rings round her legs impeded her walking, and chafed her ankles; but, as it was the fashion, she did not mind the inconvenience, and guarded against the pain by putting soft rag round the lower rings. Justice appears upon the whole to be pretty fairly administered among the Makololo. A headman took some beads and a blanket from one of his men who had been with us; the matter was brought before the chief, and he immediately ordered the goods to be restored, and decreed, moreover, that no headman should take the property of the men who had returned. In theory, all the goods brought back belonged to the chief; the men laid them at his feet, and made a formal offer of them all; he looked at the articles, and told the men to keep them. This is almost invariably the case. Tuba Mokoro, however, fearing lest Sekeletu might take a fancy to some of his best goods, exhibited only a few of his old and least valuable acquisitions. Masakasa had little to show; he had committed some breach of native law in one of the villages on the way, and paid a heavy fine rather than have the matter brought to the Doctor's ears. Each carrier is entitled to a portion of the goods in his bundle, though purchased by the chief's ivory, and they never hesitate to claim their rights; but no wages can be demanded from the chief, if he fails to respond to the first application. Our men, accustomed to our ways, thought that the English system of paying a man for his labour was the only correct one, and some even said it would be better to live under a government where life and labour were more secure and valuable than here. While with us, they always conducted themselves with propriety during Divine service, and not only maintained decorum themselves, but insisted on other natives who might be present doing the same. When Moshobotwane, the Batoka chief, came on one occasion with a number of his men, they listened in silence to the reading of the Bible in the Makololo tongue; but, as soon as we all knelt down to pray, they commenced a vigorous clapping of hands, their mode of asking a favour. Our indignant Makololo soon silenced their noisy accompaniment, and looked with great contempt on this display of ignorance. Nearly all our men had learned to repeat the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles' Creed in their own language, and felt rather proud of being able to do so; and when they reached home, they liked to recite them to groups of admiring friends. Their ideas of right and wrong differ in no respect from our own, except in their professed inability to see how it can be improper for a man to have more than one wife. A year or two ago several of the wives of those who had been absent with us petitioned the chief for leave to marry again. They thought that it was of no use waiting any longer, their husbands must be dead; but Sekeletu refused permission; he himself had bet a number of oxen that the Doctor would return with their husbands, and he had promised the absent men that their wives should be kept for them. The impatient spouses had therefore to wait a little longer. Some of them, however, eloped with other men; the wife of Mantlanyane, for instance, ran off and left his little boy among strangers. Mantlanyane was very angry when he heard of it, not that he cared much about her deserting him, for he had two other wives at Tette, but he was indignant at her abandoning his boy. CHAPTER VIII. Life amongst the Makololo--Return journey--Native hospitality--A canoe voyage on the Zambesi. While we were at Sesheke, an ox was killed by a crocodile; a man found the carcass floating in the river, and appropriated the meat. When the owner heard of this, he requested him to come before the chief, as he meant to complain of him; rather than go, the delinquent settled the matter by giving one of his own oxen in lieu of the lost one. A headman from near Linyanti came with a complaint that all his people had run off, owing to the "hunger." Sekeletu said, "You must not be left to grow lean alone, some of them must come back to you." He had thus an order to compel their return, if he chose to put it in force. Families frequently leave their own headman and flee to another village, and sometimes a whole village decamps by night, leaving the headman by himself. Sekeletu rarely interfered with the liberty of the subject to choose his own headman, and, as it is often the fault of the latter which causes the people to depart, it is punishment enough for him to be left alone. Flagrant disobedience to the chief's orders is punished with death. A Moshubia man was ordered to cut some reeds for Sekeletu: he went off, and hid himself for two days instead. For this he was doomed to die, and was carried in a canoe to the middle of the river, choked, and tossed into the stream. The spectators hooted the executioners, calling out to them that they too would soon be carried out and strangled. Occasionally when a man is sent to beat an offender, he tells him his object, returns, and assures the chief he has nearly killed him. The transgressor then keeps for a while out of sight, and the matter is forgotten. The river here teems with monstrous crocodiles, and women are frequently, while drawing water, carried off by these reptiles. We met a venerable warrior, sole survivor, probably, of the Mantatee host which threatened to invade the colony in 1824. He retained a vivid recollection of their encounter with the Griquas: "As we looked at the men and horses, puffs of smoke arose, and some of us dropped down dead!" "Never saw anything like it in my life, a man's brains lying in one place and his body in another!" They could not understand what was killing them; a ball struck a man's shield at an angle; knocked his arm out of joint at the shoulder; and leaving a mark, or burn, as he said, on the shield, killed another man close by. We saw the man with his shoulder still dislocated. Sebetuane was present at the fight, and had an exalted opinion of the power of white people ever afterwards. The ancient costume of the Makololo consisted of the skin of a lamb, kid, jackal, ocelot, or other small animal, worn round and below the loins: and in cold weather a kaross, or skin mantle, was thrown over the shoulders. The kaross is now laid aside, and the young men of fashion wear a monkey-jacket and a skin round the hips; but no trousers, waistcoat, or shirt. The river and lake tribes are in general very cleanly, bathing several times a day. The Makololo women use water rather sparingly, rubbing themselves with melted butter instead: this keeps off parasites, but gives their clothes a rancid odour. One stage of civilization often leads of necessity to another--the possession of clothes creates a demand for soap; give a man a needle, and he is soon back to you for thread. This being a time of mourning, on account of the illness of the chief, the men were negligent of their persons, they did not cut their hair, or have merry dances, or carry spear and shield when they walked abroad. The wife of Pitsane was busy making a large hut, while we were in the town: she informed us that the men left house-building entirely to the women and servants. A round tower of stakes and reeds, nine or ten feet high, is raised and plastered; a floor is next made of soft tufa, or ant-hill material and cowdung. This plaster prevents the poisonous insects, called tumpans, whose bite causes fever in some, and painful sores in all, from harbouring in the cracks or soil. The roof, which is much larger in diameter than the tower, is made on the ground, and then, many persons assisting, lifted up and placed on the tower, and thatched. A plastered reed fence is next built up to meet the outer part of the roof, which still projects a little over this fence, and a space of three feet remains between it and the tower. We slept in this space, instead of in the tower, as the inner door of the hut we occupied was uncomfortably small, being only nineteen inches high, and twenty-two inches wide at the floor. A foot from the bottom it measured seventeen inches in breadth, and close to the top only twelve inches, so it was a difficult matter to get through it. The tower has no light or ventilation, except through this small door. The reason a lady assigned for having the doors so very small was to keep out the mice! The children have merry times, especially in the cool of the evening. One of their games consists of a little girl being carried on the shoulders of two others. She sits with outstretched arms, as they walk about with her, and all the rest clap their hands, and stopping before each hut sing pretty airs, some beating time on their little kilts of cowskin, others making a curious humming sound between the songs. Excepting this and the skipping-rope, the play of the girls consists in imitation of the serious work of their mothers, building little huts, making small pots, and cooking, pounding corn in miniature mortars, or hoeing tiny gardens. The boys play with spears of reeds pointed with wood, and small shields, or bows and arrows; or amuse themselves in making little cattle-pens, or in moulding cattle in clay; they show great ingenuity in the imitation of various-shaped horns. Some too are said to use slings, but as soon as they can watch the goats, or calves, they are sent to the field. We saw many boys riding on the calves they had in charge, but this is an innovation since the arrival of the English with their horses. Tselane, one of the ladies, on observing Dr. Livingstone noting observations on the wet and dry bulb thermometers, thought that he too was engaged in play; for on receiving no reply to her question, which was rather difficult to answer, as the native tongue has no scientific terms, she said with roguish glee, "Poor thing, playing like a little child!" Like other Africans, the Makololo have great faith in the power of medicine; they believe that there is an especial medicine for every ill that flesh is heir to. Mamire is anxious to have children; he has six wives, and only one boy, and he begs earnestly for "child medicine." The mother of Sekeletu came from the Barotse Valley to see her son. Thinks she has lost flesh since Dr. Livingstone was here before, and asks for "the medicine of fatness." The Makololo consider plumpness an essential part of beauty in women, but the extreme stoutness, mentioned by Captain Speke, in the north, would be considered hideous here, for the men have been overheard speaking of a lady whom we call "inclined to _embonpoint_," as "fat unto ugliness." Two packages from the Kuruman, containing letters and newspapers, reached Linyanti previous to our arrival, and Sekeletu, not knowing when we were coming, left them there; but now at once sent a messenger for them. This man returned on the seventh day, having travelled 240 geographical miles. One of the packages was too heavy for him, and he left it behind. As the Doctor wished to get some more medicine and papers out of the wagon left at Linyanti in 1853, he decided upon going thither himself. The chief gave him his own horse, now about twelve years old, and some men. He found everything in his wagon as safe as when he left it seven years before. The headmen, Mosale and Pekonyane, received him cordially, and lamented that they had so little to offer him. Oh! had he only arrived the year previous, when there was abundance of milk and corn and beer. Very early the next morning the old town-crier, Ma-Pulenyane, of his own accord made a public proclamation, which, in the perfect stillness of the town long before dawn, was striking: "I have dreamed! I have dreamed! I have dreamed! Thou Mosale and thou Pekonyane, my lords, be not faint- hearted, nor let your hearts be sore, but believe all the words of Monare (the Doctor) for his heart is white as milk towards the Makololo. I dreamed that he was coming, and that the tribe would live, if you prayed to God and give heed to the word of Monare." Ma-Pulenyane showed Dr. Livingstone the burying-place where poor Helmore and seven others were laid, distinguishing those whom he had put to rest, and those for whom Mafale had performed that last office. Nothing whatever marked the spot, and with the native idea of _hiding_ the dead, it was said, "it will soon be all overgrown with bushes, for no one will cultivate there." None but Ma-Pulenyane approached the place, the others stood at a respectful distance; they invariably avoid everything connected with the dead, and no such thing as taking portions of human bodies to make charms of, as is the custom further north, has ever been known among the Makololo. Sekeletu's health improved greatly during our visit, the melancholy foreboding left his spirits, and he became cheerful, but resolutely refused to leave his den, and appear in public till he was perfectly cured, and had regained what he considered his good looks. He also feared lest some of those who had bewitched him originally might still be among the people, and neutralize our remedies. {4} As we expected another steamer to be at Kongone in November, it was impossible for us to remain in Sesheke more than one month. Before our departure, the chief and his principal men expressed in a formal manner their great desire to have English people settled on the Batoka highlands. At one time he proposed to go as far as Phori, in order to select a place of residence; but as he afterwards saw reasons for remaining where he was, till his cure was completed, he gave orders to those sent with us, in the event of our getting, on our return, past the rapids near Tette, not to bring us to Sesheke, but to send forward a messenger, and he with the whole tribe would come to us. Dr. Kirk being of the same age, Sekeletu was particularly anxious that he should come and live with him. He said that he would cut off a section of the country for the special use of the English; and on being told that in all probability their descendants would cause disturbance in his country, he replied, "These would be only domestic feuds, and of no importance." The great extent of uncultivated land on the cool and now unpeopled highlands has but to be seen to convince the spectator how much room there is, and to spare, for a vastly greater population than ever, in our day, can be congregated there. On the last occasion of our holding Divine service at Sesheke, the men were invited to converse on the subject on which they had been addressed. So many of them had died since we were here before, that not much probability existed of our all meeting again, and this had naturally led to the subject of a future state. They replied that they did not wish to offend the speaker, but they could not believe that all the dead would rise again: "Can those who have been killed in the field and devoured by the vultures; or those who have been eaten by the hyenas or lions; or those who have been tossed into the river, and eaten by more than one crocodile,--can they all be raised again to life?" They were told that men could take a leaden bullet, change it into a salt (acetate of lead), which could be dissolved as completely in water as our bodies in the stomachs of animals, and then reconvert it into lead; or that the bullet could be transformed into the red and white paint of our wagons, and again be reconverted into the original lead; and that if men exactly like themselves could do so much, how much more could He do who has made the eye to see, and the ear to hear! We added, however, that we believed in a resurrection, not because we understood how it would be brought about, but because our Heavenly Father assured us of it in His Book. The reference to the truth of the Book and its Author seems always to have more influence on the native mind than the cleverness of the illustration. The knowledge of the people is scanty, but their reasoning is generally clear as far as their information goes. We left Sesheke on the 17th September, 1860, convoyed by Pitsane and Leshore with their men. Pitsane was ordered by Sekeletu to make a hedge round the garden at the Falls, to protect the seeds we had brought; and also to collect some of the tobacco tribute below the Falls. Leshore, besides acting as a sort of guard of honour to us, was sent on a diplomatic mission to Sinamane. No tribute was exacted by Sekeletu from Sinamane; but, as he had sent in his adhesion, he was expected to act as a guard in case of the Matebele wishing to cross and attack the Makololo. As we intended to purchase canoes of Sinamane in which to descend the river, Leshore was to commend us to whatever help this Batoka chief could render. It must be confessed that Leshore's men, who were all of the black subject tribes, really needed to be viewed by us in the most charitable light; for Leshore, on entering any village, called out to the inhabitants, "Look out for your property, and see that my thieves don't steal it." Two young Makololo with their Batoka servants accompanied us to see if Kebrabasa could be surmounted, and to bring a supply of medicine for Sekeletu's leprosy; and half a dozen able canoe-men, under Mobito, who had previously gone with Dr. Livingstone to Loanda, were sent to help us in our river navigation. Some men on foot drove six oxen which Sekeletu had given us as provisions for the journey. It was, as before remarked, a time of scarcity; and, considering the dearth of food, our treatment had been liberal. By day the canoe-men are accustomed to keep close under the river's bank from fear of the hippopotami; by night, however, they keep in the middle of the stream, as then those animals are usually close to the bank on their way to their grazing grounds. Our progress was considerably impeded by the high winds, which at this season of the year begin about eight in the morning, and blow strongly up the river all day. The canoes were poor leaky affairs, and so low in parts of the gunwale, that the paddlers were afraid to follow the channel when it crossed the river, lest the waves might swamp us. A rough sea is dreaded by all these inland canoe-men; but though timid, they are by no means unskilful at their work. The ocean rather astonished them afterwards; and also the admirable way that the Nyassa men managed their canoes on a rough lake, and even amongst the breakers, where no small boat could possibly live. On the night of the 17th we slept on the left bank of the Majeele, after having had all the men ferried across. An ox was slaughtered, and not an ounce of it was left next morning. Our two young Makololo companions, Maloka and Ramakukane, having never travelled before, naturally clung to some of the luxuries they had been accustomed to at home. When they lay down to sleep, their servants were called to spread their blankets over their august persons, not forgetting their feet. This seems to be the duty of the Makololo wife to her husband, and strangers sometimes receive the honour. One of our party, having wandered, slept at the village of Nambowe. When he laid down, to his surprise two of Nambowe's wives came at once, and carefully and kindly spread his kaross over him. A beautiful silvery fish with reddish fins, called Ngwesi, is very abundant in the river; large ones weigh fifteen or twenty pounds each. Its teeth are exposed, and so arranged that, when they meet, the edges cut a hook like nippers. The Ngwesi seems to be a very ravenous fish. It often gulps down the Konokono, a fish armed with serrated bones more than an inch in length in the pectoral and dorsal fins, which, fitting into a notch at the roots, can be put by the fish on full cock or straight out,--they cannot be folded down, without its will, and even break in resisting. The name "Konokono," elbow-elbow, is given it from a resemblance its extended fins are supposed to bear to a man's elbows stuck out from his body. It often performs the little trick of cocking its fins in the stomach of the Ngwesi, and, the elbows piercing its enemy's sides, he is frequently found floating dead. The fin bones seem to have an acrid secretion on them, for the wound they make is excessively painful. The Konokono barks distinctly when landed with the hook. Our canoe-men invariably picked up every dead fish they saw on the surface of the water, however far gone. An unfragrant odour was no objection; the fish was boiled and eaten, and the water drunk as soup. It is a curious fact that many of the Africans keep fish as we do woodcocks, until they are extremely offensive, before they consider them fit to eat. Our paddlers informed us on our way down that iguanas lay their eggs in July and August, and crocodiles in September. The eggs remain a month or two under the sand where they are laid, and the young come out when the rains have fairly commenced. The canoe-men were quite positive that crocodiles frequently stun men by striking them with their tails, and then squat on them till they are drowned. We once caught a young crocodile, which certainly did use its tail to inflict sharp blows, and led us to conclude that the native opinion is correct. They believed also that, if a person shuts the beast's eyes, it lets go its hold. Crocodiles have been known to unite and kill a large one of their own species and eat it. Some fishermen throw the bones of the fish into the river but in most of the fishing villages there are heaps of them in various places. The villagers can walk over them without getting them into their feet; but the Makololo, from having softer soles, are unable to do so. The explanation offered was, that the fishermen have a medicine against fish-bones, but that they will not reveal it to the Makololo. We spent a night on Mparira island, which is four miles long and about one mile broad. Mokompa, the headman, was away hunting elephants. His wife sent for him on our arrival, and he returned next morning before we left. Taking advantage of the long-continued drought, he had set fire to the reeds between the Chobe and Zambesi, in such a manner as to drive the game out at one corner, where his men laid in wait with their spears. He had killed five elephants and three buffaloes, wounding several others which escaped. On our land party coming up, we were told that the oxen were bitten by the tsetse: they could see a great difference in their looks. One was already eaten, and they now wished to slaughter another. A third fell into a buffalo-pit next day, so our stock was soon reduced. The Batoka chief, Moshobotwane, again treated us with his usual hospitality, giving us an ox, some meal, and milk. We took another view of the grand Mosi-oa-tunya, and planted a quantity of seeds in the garden on the island; but, as no one will renew the hedge, the hippopotami will, doubtless, soon destroy what we planted. Mashotlane assisted us. So much power was allowed to this under-chief, that he appeared as if he had cast off the authority of Sekeletu altogether. He did not show much courtesy to his messengers; instead of giving them food, as is customary, he took the meat out of a pot in their presence, and handed it to his own followers. This may have been because Sekeletu's men bore an order to him to remove to Linyanti. He had not only insulted Baldwin, but had also driven away the Griqua traders; but this may all end in nothing. Some of the natives here, and at Sesheke, know a few of the low tricks of more civilized traders. A pot of milk was brought to us one evening, which was more indebted to the Zambesi than to any cow. Baskets of fine- looking white meal, elsewhere, had occasionally the lower half filled with bran. Eggs are always a perilous investment. The native idea of a good egg differs as widely from our own as is possible on such a trifling subject. An egg is eaten here with apparent relish, though an embryo chick be inside. We left Mosi-oa-tunya on the 27th, and slept close to the village of Bakwini. It is built on a ridge of loose red soil, which produces great crops of mapira and ground-nuts; many magnificent mosibe-trees stand near the village. Machimisi, the headman of the village, possesses a herd of cattle and a large heart; he kept us company for a couple of days to guide us on our way. We had heard a good deal of a stronghold some miles below the Falls, called Kalunda. Our return path was much nearer the Zambesi than that of our ascent,--in fact, as near as the rough country would allow,--but we left it twice before we reached Sinamane's, in order to see Kalunda and a Fall called Moomba, or Moamba. The Makololo had once dispossessed the Batoka of Kalunda, but we could not see the fissure, or whatever it is, that rendered it a place of security, as it was on the southern bank. The crack of the Great Falls was here continued: the rocks are the same as further up, but perhaps less weather-worn--and now partially stratified in great thick masses. The country through which we were travelling was covered with a cindery-looking volcanic tufa, and might be called "Katakaumena." The description we received of the Moamba Falls seemed to promise something grand. They were said to send up "smoke" in the wet season, like Mosi-oa-tunya; but when we looked down into the cleft, in which the dark-green narrow river still rolls, we saw, about 800 or 1000 feet below us, what, after Mosi-oa-tunya, seemed two insignificant cataracts. It was evident that Pitsane, observing our delight at the Victoria Falls, wished to increase our pleasure by a second wonder. One Mosi-oa-tunya, however, is quite enough for a continent. We had now an opportunity of seeing more of the Batoka, than we had on the highland route to our north. They did not wait till the evening before offering food to the strangers. The aged wife of the headman of a hamlet, where we rested at midday, at once kindled a fire, and put on the cooking-pot to make porridge. Both men and women are to be distinguished by greater roundness of feature than the other natives, and the custom of knocking out the upper front teeth gives at once a distinctive character to the face. Their colour attests the greater altitude of the country in which many of them formerly lived. Some, however, are as dark as the Bashubia and Barotse of the great valley to their west, in which stands Sesheke, formerly the capital of the Balui, or Bashubia. The assertion may seem strange, yet it is none the less true, that in all the tribes we have visited we never saw a really black person. Different shades of brown prevail, and often with a bright bronze tint, which no painter, except Mr. Angus, seems able to catch. Those who inhabit elevated, dry situations, and who are not obliged to work much in the sun, are frequently of a light warm brown, "dark but comely." Darkness of colour is probably partly caused by the sun, and partly by something in the climate or soil which we do not yet know. We see something of the same sort in trout and other fish which take their colour from the ponds or streams in which they live. The members of our party were much less embrowned by free exposure to the sun for years than Dr. Livingstone and his family were by passing once from Kuruman to Cape Town, a journey which occupied only a couple of months. We encamped on the Kalomo, on the 1st of October, and found the weather very much warmer than when we crossed this stream in August. At 3 p.m. the thermometer, four feet from the ground, was 101 degrees in the shade; the wet bulb only 61 degrees: a difference of 40 degrees. Yet, notwithstanding this extreme dryness of the atmosphere, without a drop of rain having fallen for months, and scarcely any dew, many of the shrubs and trees were putting forth fresh leaves of various hues, while others made a profuse display of lovely blossoms. Two old and very savage buffaloes were shot for our companions on the 3rd October. Our Volunteers may feel an interest in knowing that balls sometimes have but little effect: one buffalo fell, on receiving a Jacob's shell; it was hit again twice, and lost a large amount of blood; and yet it sprang up, and charged a native, who, by great agility, had just time to climb a tree, before the maddened beast struck it, battering- ram fashion, hard enough almost to have split both head and tree. It paused a few seconds--drew back several paces--glared up at the man--and then dashed at the tree again and again, as if determined to shake him out of it. It took two more Jacob's shells, and five other large solid rifle-balls to finish the beast at last. These old surly buffaloes had been wandering about in a sort of miserable fellowship; their skins were diseased and scabby, as if leprous, and their horns atrophied or worn down to stumps--the first was killed outright, by one Jacob's shell, the second died hard. There is so much difference in the tenacity of life in wounded animals of the same species, that the inquiry is suggested where the seat of life can be?--We have seen a buffalo live long enough, after a large bullet had passed right through the heart, to allow firm adherent clots to be formed in the two holes. One day's journey above Sinamane's, a mass of mountain called Gorongue, or Golongwe, is said to cross the river, and the rent through which the river passes is, by native report, quite fearful to behold. The country round it is so rocky, that our companions dreaded the fatigue, and were not much to blame, if, as is probably the case, the way be worse than that over which we travelled. As we trudged along over the black slag- like rocks, the almost leafless trees affording no shade, the heat was quite as great as Europeans could bear. It was 102 degrees in the shade, and a thermometer placed under the tongue or armpit showed that our blood was 99.5 degrees, or 1.5 degrees hotter than that of the natives, which stood at 98 degrees. Our shoes, however, enable us to pass over the hot burning soil better than they can. Many of those who wear sandals have corns on the sides of the feet, and on the heels, where the straps pass. We have seen instances, too, where neither sandals nor shoes were worn, of corns on the soles of the feet. It is, moreover, not at all uncommon to see toes cocked up, as if pressed out of their proper places; at home, we should have unhesitatingly ascribed this to the vicious fashions perversely followed by our shoemakers. On the 5th, after crossing some hills, we rested at the village of Simariango. The bellows of the blacksmith here were somewhat different from the common goatskin bags, and more like those seen in Madagascar. They consisted of two wooden vessels, like a lady's bandbox of small dimensions, the upper ends of which were covered with leather, and looked something like the heads of drums, except that the leather bagged in the centre. They were fitted with long nozzles, through which the air was driven by working the loose covering of the tops up and down by means of a small piece of wood attached to their centres. The blacksmith said that tin was obtained from a people in the north, called Marendi, and that he had made it into bracelets; we had never heard before of tin being found in the country. Our course then lay down the bed of a rivulet, called Mapatizia, in which there was much calc spar, with calcareous schist, and then the Tette grey sandstone, which usually overlies coal. On the 6th we arrived at the islet Chilombe, belonging to Sinamane, where the Zambesi runs broad and smooth again, and were well received by Sinamane himself. Never was Sunday more welcome to the weary than this, the last we were to spend with our convoy. We now saw many good-looking young men and women. The dresses of the ladies are identical with those of Nubian women in Upper Egypt. To a belt on the waist a great number of strings are attached to hang all round the person. These fringes are about six or eight inches long. The matrons wear in addition a skin cut like the tails of the coatee formerly worn by our dragoons. The younger girls wear the waist-belt exhibited in the woodcut, ornamented with shells, and have the fringes only in front. Marauding parties of Batoka, calling themselves Makololo, have for some time had a wholesome dread of Sinamane's "long spears." Before going to Tette our Batoka friend, Masakasa, was one of a party that came to steal some of the young women; but Sinamane, to their utter astonishment, attacked them so furiously that the survivors barely escaped with their lives. Masakasa had to flee so fast that he threw away his shield, his spear, and his clothes, and returned home a wiser and a sadder man. Sinamane's people cultivate large quantities of tobacco, which they manufacture into balls for the Makololo market. Twenty balls, weighing about three-quarters of a pound each, are sold for a hoe. The tobacco is planted on low moist spots on the banks of the Zambesi; and was in flower at the time we were there, in October. Sinamane's people appear to have abundance of food, and are all in good condition. He could sell us only two of his canoes; but lent us three more to carry us as far as Moemba's, where he thought others might be purchased. They were manned by his own canoe-men, who were to bring them back. The river is about 250 yards wide, and flows serenely between high banks towards the North-east. Below Sinamane's the banks are often worn down fifty feet, and composed of shingle and gravel of igneous rocks, sometimes set in a ferruginous matrix. The bottom is all gravel and shingle, how formed we cannot imagine, unless in pot-holes in the deep fissure above. The bottom above the Falls, save a few rocks close by them, is generally sandy or of soft tufa. Every damp spot is covered with maize, pumpkins, water-melons, tobacco, and hemp. There is a pretty numerous Batoka population on both sides of the river. As we sailed slowly down, the people saluted us from the banks, by clapping their hands. A headman even hailed us, and brought a generous present of corn and pumpkins. Moemba owns a rich island, called Mosanga, a mile in length, on which his village stands. He has the reputation of being a brave warrior, and is certainly a great talker; but he gave us strangers something better than a stream of words. We received a handsome present of corn, and the fattest goat we had ever seen; it resembled mutton. His people were as liberal as their chief. They brought two large baskets of corn, and a lot of tobacco, as a sort of general contribution to the travellers. One of Sinamane's canoe-men, after trying to get his pay, deserted here, and went back before the stipulated time, with the story, that the Englishman had stolen the canoes. Shortly after sunrise next morning, Sinamane came into the village with fifty of his "long spears," evidently determined to retake his property by force; he saw at a glance that his man had deceived him. Moemba rallied him for coming on a wildgoose chase. "Here are your canoes left with me, your men have all been paid, and the Englishmen are now asking me to sell my canoes." Sinamane said little to us; only observing that he had been deceived by his follower. A single remark of his chief's caused the foolish fellow to leave suddenly, evidently much frightened and crestfallen. Sinamane had been very kind to us, and, as he was looking on when we gave our present to Moemba, we made him also an additional offering of some beads, and parted good friends. Moemba, having heard that we had called the people of Sinamane together to tell them about our Saviour's mission to man, and to pray with them, associated the idea of Sunday with the meeting, and, before anything of the sort was proposed, came and asked that he and his people might be "sundayed" as well as his neighbours; and be given a little seed wheat, and fruit-tree seeds; with which request of course we very willingly complied. The idea of praying direct to the Supreme Being, though not quite new to all, seems to strike their minds so forcibly that it will not be forgotten. Sinamane said that he prayed to God, Morungo, and made drink-offerings to him. Though he had heard of us, he had never seen white men before. Beautiful crowned cranes, named from their note "ma-wang," were seen daily, and were beginning to pair. Large flocks of spur-winged geese, or machikwe, were common. This goose is said to lay her eggs in March. We saw also pairs of Egyptian geese, as well as a few of the knob-nosed, or, as they are called in India, combed geese. When the Egyptian geese, as at the present time, have young, the goslings keep so steadily in the wake of their mother, that they look as if they were a part of her tail; and both parents, when on land, simulate lameness quite as well as our plovers, to draw off pursuers. The ostrich also adopts the lapwing fashion, but no quadrupeds do: they show fight to defend their young instead. In some places the steep banks were dotted with the holes which lead into the nests of bee-eaters. These birds came out in hundreds as we passed. When the red-breasted species settle on the trees, they give them the appearance of being covered with red foliage. On the morning of the 12th October we passed through a wild, hilly country, with fine wooded scenery on both sides, but thinly inhabited. The largest trees were usually thorny acacias, of great size and beautiful forms. As we sailed by several villages without touching, the people became alarmed, and ran along the banks, spears in hand. We employed one to go forward and tell Mpande of our coming. This allayed their fears, and we went ashore, and took breakfast near the large island with two villages on it, opposite the mouth of the Zungwe, where we had left the Zambesi on our way up. Mpande was sorry that he had no canoes of his own to sell, but he would lend us two. He gave us cooked pumpkins and a water-melon. His servant had lateral curvature of the spine. We have often seen cases of humpback, but this was the only case of this kind of curvature we had met with. Mpande accompanied us himself in his own vessel, till we had an opportunity of purchasing a fine large canoe elsewhere. We paid what was considered a large price for it: twelve strings of blue cut glass neck beads, an equal number of large blue ones of the size of marbles, and two yards of grey calico. Had the beads been coarser, they would have been more valued, because such were in fashion. Before concluding the bargain the owner said "his bowels yearned for his canoe, and we must give a little more to stop their yearning." This was irresistible. The trading party of Sequasha, which we now met, had purchased ten large new canoes for six strings of cheap coarse white beads each, or their equivalent, four yards of calico, and had bought for the merest trifle ivory enough to load them all. They were driving a trade in slaves also, which was something new in this part of Africa, and likely soon to change the character of the inhabitants. These men had been living in clover, and were uncommonly fat and plump. When sent to trade, slaves wisely never stint themselves of beer or anything else, which their master's goods can buy. The temperature of the Zambesi had increased 10 degrees since August, being now 80 degrees. The air was as high as 96 degrees after sunset; and, the vicinity of the water being the coolest part, we usually made our beds close by the river's brink, though there in danger of crocodiles. Africa differs from India in the air always becoming cool and refreshing long before the sun returns, and there can be no doubt that we can in this country bear exposure to the sun, which would be fatal in India. It is probably owing to the greater dryness of the African atmosphere that sunstroke is so rarely met with. In twenty-two years Dr. Livingstone never met or heard of a single case, though the protective head-dresses of India are rarely seen. When the water is nearly at its lowest, we occasionally meet with small rapids which are probably not in existence during the rest of the year. Having slept opposite the rivulet Bume, which comes from the south, we passed the island of Nakansalo, and went down the rapids of the same name on the 17th, and came on the morning of the 19th to the more serious ones of Nakabele, at the entrance to Kariba. The Makololo guided the canoes admirably through the opening in the dyke. When we entered the gorge we came on upwards of thirty hippopotami: a bank near the entrance stretches two-thirds across the narrowed river, and in the still place behind it they were swimming about. Several were in the channel, and our canoe-men were afraid to venture down among them, because, as they affirm, there is commonly an ill-natured one in a herd, which takes a malignant pleasure in upsetting canoes. Two or three boys on the rocks opposite amused themselves by throwing stones at the frightened animals, and hit several on the head. It would have been no difficult matter to have shot the whole herd. We fired a few shots to drive them off; the balls often glance off the skull, and no more harm is done than when a schoolboy gets a bloody nose; we killed one, which floated away down the rapid current, followed by a number of men on the bank. A native called to us from the left bank, and said that a man on his side knew how to pray to the Kariba gods, and advised us to hire him to pray for our safety, while we were going down the rapids, or we should certainly all be drowned. No one ever risked his life in Kariba without first paying the river-doctor, or priest, for his prayers. Our men asked if there was a cataract in front, but he declined giving any information; they were not on his side of the river; if they would come over, then he might be able to tell them. We crossed, but he went off to the village. We then landed and walked over the hills to have a look at Karaba before trusting our canoes in it. The current was strong, and there was broken water in some places, but the channel was nearly straight, and had no cataract, so we determined to risk it. Our men visited the village while we were gone, and were treated to beer and tobacco. The priest who knows how to pray to the god that rules the rapids followed us with several of his friends, and they were rather surprised to see us pass down in safety, without the aid of his intercession. The natives who followed the dead hippopotamus caught it a couple of miles below, and, having made it fast to a rock, were sitting waiting for us on the bank beside the dead animal. As there was a considerable current there, and the rocky banks were unfit for our beds, we took the hippopotamus in tow, telling the villagers to follow, and we would give them most of the meat. The crocodiles tugged so hard at the carcass, that we were soon obliged to cast it adrift, to float down in the current, to avoid upsetting the canoe. We had to go on so far before finding a suitable spot to spend the night in, that the natives concluded we did not intend to share the meat with them, and returned to the village. We slept two nights at the place where the hippopotamus was cut up. The crocodiles had a busy time of it in the dark, tearing away at what was left in the river, and thrashing the water furiously with their powerful tails. The hills on both sides of Kariba are much like those of Kebrabasa, the strata tilted and twisted in every direction, with no level ground. Although the hills confine the Zambesi within a narrow channel for a number of miles, there are no rapids beyond those near the entrance. The river is smooth and apparently very deep. Only one single human being was seen in the gorge, the country being too rough for culture. Some rocks in the water, near the outlet of Kariba, at a distance look like a fort; and such large masses dislocated, bent, and even twisted to a remarkable degree, at once attest some tremendous upheaving and convulsive action of nature, which probably caused Kebrabasa, Kariba, and the Victoria Falls to assume their present forms; it took place after the formation of the coal, that mineral having then been tilted up. We have probably nothing equal to it in the present quiet operations of nature. On emerging we pitched our camp by a small stream, the Pendele, a few miles below the gorge. The Palabi mountain stands on the western side of the lower end of the Kariba strait; the range to which it belongs crosses the river, and runs to the south-east. Chikumbula, a hospitable old headman, under Nchomokela, the paramount chief of a large district, whom we did not see, brought us next morning a great basket of meal, and four fowls, with some beer, and a cake of salt, "to make it taste good." Chikumbula said that the elephants plagued them, by eating up the cotton- plants; but his people seem to be well off. A few days before we came, they caught three buffaloes in pitfalls in one night, and, unable to eat them all, left one to rot. During the night the wind changed and blew from the dead buffalo to our sleeping-place; and a hungry lion, not at all dainty in his food, stirred up the putrid mass, and growled and gloated over his feast, to the disturbance of our slumbers. Game of all kinds is in most extraordinary abundance, especially from this point to below the Kafue, and so it is on Moselekatso's side, where there are no inhabitants. The drought drives all the game to the river to drink. An hour's walk on the right bank, morning or evening, reveals a country swarming with wild animals: vast herds of pallahs, many waterbucks, koodoos, buffaloes, wild pigs, elands, zebras, and monkeys appear; francolins, guinea-fowls, and myriads of turtledoves attract the eye in the covers, with the fresh spoor of elephants and rhinoceroses, which had been at the river during the night. Every few miles we came upon a school of hippopotami, asleep on some shallow sandbank; their bodies, nearly all out of the water, appeared like masses of black rock in the river. When these animals are hunted much, they become proportionably wary, but here no hunter ever troubles them, and they repose in security, always however taking the precaution of sleeping just above the deep channel, into which they can plunge when alarmed. When a shot is fired into a sleeping herd, all start up on their feet, and stare with peculiar stolid looks of hippopotamic surprise, and wait for another shot before dashing into deep water. A few miles below Chikumbula's we saw a white hippopotamus in a herd. Our men had never seen one like it before. It was of a pinkish white, exactly like the colour of the Albino. It seemed to be the father of a number of others, for there were many marked with large light patches. The so-called _white_ elephant is just such a pinkish Albino as this hippopotamus. A few miles above Kariba we observed that, in two small hamlets, many of the inhabitants had a similar affection of the skin. The same influence appeared to have affected man and beast. A dark coloured hippopotamus stood alone, as if expelled from the herd, and bit the water, shaking his head from side to side in a most frantic manner. When the female has twins, she is said to kill one of them. We touched at the beautiful tree-covered island of Kalabi, opposite where Tuba-mokoro lectured the lion in our way up. The ancestors of the people who now inhabit this island possessed cattle. The tsetse has taken possession of the country since "the beeves were lifted." No one knows where these insects breed; at a certain season all disappear, and as suddenly come back, no one knows whence. The natives are such close observers of nature, that their ignorance in this case surprised us. A solitary hippopotamus had selected the little bay in which we landed, and where the women drew water, for his dwelling-place. Pretty little lizards, with light blue and red tails, run among the rocks, catching flies and other insects. These harmless--though to new-comers repulsive--creatures sometimes perform good service to man, by eating great numbers of the destructive white ants. At noon on the 24th October, we found Sequasha in a village below the Kafue, with the main body of his people. He said that 210 elephants had been killed during his trip; many of his men being excellent hunters. The numbers of animals we saw renders this possible. He reported that, after reaching the Kafue, he went northwards into the country of the Zulus, whose ancestors formerly migrated from the south and set up a sort of Republican form of government. Sequasha is the greatest Portuguese traveller we ever became acquainted with, and he boasts that he is able to speak a dozen different dialects; yet, unfortunately, he can give but a very meagre account of the countries and people he has seen, and his statements are not very much to be relied on. But considering the influence among which he has been reared, and the want of the means of education at Tette, it is a wonder that he possesses the good traits that he sometimes exhibits. Among his wares were several cheap American clocks; a useless investment rather, for a part of Africa where no one cares for the artificial measurement of time. These clocks got him into trouble among the Banyai: he set them all agoing in the presence of a chief, who became frightened at the strange sounds they made, and looked upon them as so many witchcraft agencies at work to bring all manner of evils upon himself and his people. Sequasha, it was decided, had been guilty of a milando, or crime, and he had to pay a heavy fine of cloth and beads for his exhibition. He alluded to our having heard that he had killed Mpangwe, and he denied having actually done so; but in his absence his name had got mixed up in the affair, in consequence of his slaves, while drinking beer one night with Namakusuru, the man who succeeded Mpangwe, saying that they would kill the chief for him. His partner had not thought of this when we saw him on the way up, for he tried to excuse the murder, by saying that now they had put the right man into the chieftainship. After three hours' sail, on the morning of the 29th, the river was narrowed again by the mountains of Mburuma, called Karivua, into one channel, and another rapid dimly appeared. It was formed by two currents guided by rocks to the centre. In going down it, the men sent by Sekeletu behaved very nobly. The canoes entered without previous survey, and the huge jobbling waves of mid-current began at once to fill them. With great presence of mind, and without a moment's hesitation, two men lightened each by jumping overboard; they then ordered a Botoka man to do the same, as "the white men must be saved." "I cannot swim," said the Batoka. "Jump out, then, and hold on to the canoe;" which he instantly did. Swimming alongside, they guided the swamping canoes down the swift current to the foot of the rapid, and then ran them ashore to bale them out. A boat could have passed down safely, but our canoes were not a foot above the water at the gunwales. Thanks to the bravery of these poor fellows, nothing was lost, although everything was well soaked. This rapid is nearly opposite the west end of the Mburuma mountains or Karivua. Another soon begins below it. They are said to be all smoothed over when the river rises. The canoes had to be unloaded at this the worst rapid, and the goods carried about a hundred yards. By taking the time in which a piece of stick floated past 100 feet, we found the current to be running six knots, by far the greatest velocity noted in the river. As the men were bringing the last canoe down close to the shore, the stern swung round into the current, and all except one man let go, rather than be dragged off. He clung to the bow, and was swept out into the middle of the stream. Having held on when he ought to have let go, he next put his life in jeopardy by letting go when he ought to have held on; and was in a few seconds swallowed up by a fearful whirlpool. His comrades launched out a canoe below, and caught him as he rose the third time to the surface, and saved him, though much exhausted and very cold. The scenery of this pass reminded us of Kebrabasa, although it is much inferior. A band of the same black shining glaze runs along the rocks about two feet from the water's edge. There was not a blade of grass on some of the hills, it being the end of the usual dry season succeeding a previous severe drought; yet the hill-sides were dotted over with beautiful green trees. A few antelopes were seen on the rugged slopes, where some people too appeared lying down, taking a cup of beer. The Karivua narrows are about thirty miles in length. They end at the mountain Roganora. Two rocks, twelve or fifteen feet above the water at the time we were there, may in flood be covered and dangerous. Our chief danger was the wind, a very slight ripple being sufficient to swamp canoes. CHAPTER IX. The waterbuck--Disaster in Kebrabasa rapids--The "Ma Robert" founders--Arrival of the "Pioneer" and Bishop Mackenzie's party--Portuguese slave-trade--Interference and liberation. We arrived at Zumbo, at the mouth of the Loangwa, on the 1st of November. The water being scarcely up to the knee, our land party waded this river with ease. A buffalo was shot on an island opposite Pangola's, the ball lodging in the spleen. It was found to have been wounded in the same organ previously, for an iron bullet was imbedded in it, and the wound entirely healed. A great deal of the plant _Pistia stratiotes_ was seen floating in the river. Many people inhabit the right bank about this part, yet the game is very abundant. As we were taking our breakfast on the morning of the 2nd, the Mambo Kazai, of whom we knew nothing, and his men came with their muskets and large powder-horns to levy a fine, and obtain payment for the wood we used in cooking. But on our replying to his demand that we were English, "Oh! are you?" he said; "I thought you were Bazungu (Portuguese). They are the people I take payments from:" and he apologized for his mistake. Bazungu, or Azungu, is a term applied to all foreigners of a light colour, and to Arabs; even to trading slaves if clothed; it probably means foreigners, or visitors,--from _zunga_, to visit or wander,--and the Portuguese were the only foreigners these men had ever seen. As we had no desire to pass for people of that nation--quite the contrary--we usually made a broad line of demarcation by saying that we were English, and the English neither bought, sold, nor held black people as slaves, but wished to put a stop to the slave-trade altogether. We called upon our friend, Mpende, in passing. He provided a hut for us, with new mats spread on the floor. Having told him that we were hurrying on because the rains were near, "Are they near?" eagerly inquired an old counsellor, "and are we to have plenty of rain this year?" We could only say that it was about the usual time for the rains to commence; and that there were the usual indications in great abundance of clouds floating westwards, but that we knew nothing more than they did themselves. The hippopotami are more wary here than higher up, as the natives hunt them with guns. Having shot one on a shallow sandbank, our men undertook to bring it over to the left bank, in order to cut it up with greater ease. It was a fine fat one, and all rejoiced in the hope of eating the fat for butter, with our hard dry cakes of native meal. Our cook was sent over to cut a choice piece for dinner, but returned with the astonishing intelligence that the carcass was gone. They had been hoodwinked, and were very much ashamed of themselves. A number of Banyai came to assist in rolling it ashore, and asserted that it was all shallow water. They rolled it over and over towards the land, and, finding the rope we had made fast to it, as they said, an encumbrance, it was unloosed. All were shouting and talking as loud as they could bawl, when suddenly our expected feast plumped into a deep hole, as the Banyai intended it should do. When sinking, all the Makololo jumped in after it. One caught frantically at the tail; another grasped a foot; a third seized the hip; "but, by Sebituane, it would go down in spite of all that we could do." Instead of a fat hippopotamus we had only a lean fowl for dinner, and were glad enough to get even that. The hippopotamus, however, floated during the night, and was found about a mile below. The Banyai then assembled on the bank, and disputed our right to the beast: "It might have been shot by somebody else." Our men took a little of it and then left it, rather than come into collision with them. A fine waterbuck was shot in the Kakolole narrows, at Mount Manyerere; it dropped beside the creek where it was feeding; an enormous crocodile, that had been watching it at the moment, seized and dragged it into the water, which was not very deep. The mortally wounded animal made a desperate plunge, and hauling the crocodile several yards tore itself out of the hideous jaws. To escape the hunter, the waterbuck jumped into the river, and was swimming across, when another crocodile gave chase, but a ball soon sent it to the bottom. The waterbuck swam a little longer, the fine head dropped, the body turned over, and one of the canoes dragged it ashore. Below Kakolole, and still at the base of Manyerere mountain, several coal-seams, not noticed on our ascent, were now seen to crop out on the right bank of the Zambesi. Chitora, of Chicova, treated us with his former hospitality. Our men were all much pleased with his kindness, and certainly did not look upon it as a proof of weakness. They meant to return his friendliness when they came this way on a marauding expedition to eat the sheep of the Banyai, for insulting them in the affair of the hippopotamus; they would then send word to Chitora not to run away, for they, being his friends, would do such a good-hearted man no harm. We entered Kebrabasa rapids, at the east end of Chicova, in the canoes, and went down a number of miles, until the river narrowed into a groove of fifty or sixty yards wide, of which we have already spoken in describing the flood-bed and channel of low water. The navigation then became difficult and dangerous. A fifteen feet fall of the water in our absence had developed many cataracts. Two of our canoes passed safely down a narrow channel, which, bifurcating, had an ugly whirlpool at the rocky partition between the two branches, the deep hole in the whirls at times opening and then shutting. The Doctor's canoe came next, and seemed to be drifting broadside into the open vortex, in spite of the utmost exertions of the paddlers. The rest were expecting to have to pull to the rescue; the men saying, "Look where these people are going!--look, look!"--when a loud crash burst on our ears. Dr. Kirk's canoe was dashed on a projection of the perpendicular rocks, by a sudden and mysterious boiling up of the river, which occurs at irregular intervals. Dr. Kirk was seen resisting the sucking-down action of the water, which must have been fifteen fathoms deep, and raising himself by his arms on to the ledge, while his steersman, holding on to the same rocks, saved the canoe; but nearly all its contents were swept away down the stream. Dr. Livingstone's canoe, meanwhile, which had distracted the men's attention, was saved by the cavity in the whirlpool filling up as the frightful eddy was reached. A few of the things in Dr. Kirk's canoe were left; but all that was valuable, including a chronometer, a barometer, and, to our great sorrow, his notes of the journey and botanical drawings of the fruit-trees of the interior, perished. We now left the river, and proceeded on foot, sorry that we had not done so the day before. The men were thoroughly frightened, they had never seen such perilous navigation. They would carry all the loads, rather than risk Kebrabasa any longer; but the fatigue of a day's march over the hot rocks and burning sand changed their tune before night; and then they regretted having left the canoes; they thought they should have dragged them past the dangerous places, and then launched them again. One of the two donkeys died from exhaustion near the Luia. Though the men eat zebras and quaggas, blood relations of the donkey, they were shocked at the idea of eating the ass; "it would be like eating man himself, because the donkey lives with man, and is his bosom companion." We met two large trading parties of Tette slaves on their way to Zumbo, leading, to be sold for ivory, a number of Manganja women, with ropes round their necks, and all made fast to one long rope. Panzo, the headman of the village east of Kebrabasa, received us with great kindness. After the usual salutation he went up the hill, and, in a loud voice, called across the valley to the women of several hamlets to cook supper for us. About eight in the evening he returned, followed by a procession of women, bringing the food. There were eight dishes of nsima, or porridge, six of different sorts of very good wild vegetables, with dishes of beans and fowls; all deliciously well cooked, and scrupulously clean. The wooden dishes were nearly as white as the meal itself: food also was brought for our men. Ripe mangoes, which usually indicate the vicinity of the Portuguese, were found on the 21st November; and we reached Tette early on the 23rd, having been absent a little over six months. The two English sailors, left in charge of the steamer, were well, had behaved well, and had enjoyed excellent health all the time we were away. Their farm had been a failure. We left a few sheep, to be slaughtered when they wished for fresh meat, and two dozen fowls. Purchasing more, they soon had double the number of the latter, and anticipated a good supply of eggs; but they also bought two monkeys, and _they_ ate all the eggs. A hippopotamus came up one night, and laid waste their vegetable garden; the sheep broke into their cotton patch, when it was in flower, and ate it all, except the stems; then the crocodiles carried off the sheep, and the natives stole the fowls. Nor were they more successful as gun-smiths: a Portuguese trader, having an exalted opinion of the ingenuity of English sailors, showed them a double-barrelled rifle, and inquired if they could put on the _browning_, which had rusted off. "I think I knows how," said one, whose father was a blacksmith, "it's very easy; you have only to put the barrels in the fire." A great fire of wood was made on shore, and the unlucky barrels put over it, to secure the handsome rifle colour. To Jack's utter amazement the barrels came asunder. To get out of the scrape, his companion and he stuck the pieces together with resin, and sent it to the owner, with the message, "It was all they could do for it, and they would not charge him anything for the job!" They had also invented an original mode of settling a bargain; having ascertained the market price of provisions, they paid that, but no more. If the traders refused to leave the ship till the price was increased, a chameleon, of which the natives have a mortal dread, was brought out of the cabin; and the moment the natives saw the creature, they at once sprang overboard. The chameleon settled every dispute in a twinkling. But besides their good-humoured intercourse, they showed humanity worthy of English sailors. A terrible scream roused them up one night, and they pushed off in a boat to the rescue. A crocodile had caught a woman, and was dragging her across a shallow sandbank. Just as they came up to her, she gave a fearful shriek: the horrid reptile had snapped off her leg at the knee. They took her on board, bandaged the limb as well as they could, and, not thinking of any better way of showing their sympathy, gave her a glass of rum, and carried her to a hut in the village. Next morning they found the bandages torn off, and the unfortunate creature left to die. "I believe," remarked Rowe, one of the sailors, "her master was angry with us for saving her life, seeing as how she had lost her leg." The Zambesi being unusually low, we remained at Tette till it rose a little, and then left on the 3rd of December for the Kongone. It was hard work to keep the vessel afloat; indeed, we never expected her to remain above water. New leaks broke out every day; the engine pump gave way; the bridge broke down; three compartments filled at night; except the cabin and front compartment all was flooded; and in a few days we were assured by Rowe that "she can't be worse than she is, sir." He and Hutchins had spent much of their time, while we were away, in patching her bottom, puddling it with clay, and shoring it, and it was chiefly to please them that we again attempted to make use of her. We had long been fully convinced that the steel plates were thoroughly unsuitable. On the morning of the 21st the uncomfortable "Asthmatic" grounded on a sandbank and filled. She could neither be emptied nor got off. The river rose during the night, and all that was visible of the worn-out craft next day was about six feet of her two masts. Most of the property we had on board was saved; and we spent the Christmas of 1860 encamped on the island of Chimba. Canoes were sent for from Senna; and we reached it on the 27th, to be again hospitably entertained by our friend, Senhor Ferrao. We reached the Kongone on the 4th of January, 1861. A flagstaff and a Custom-house had been erected during our absence; a hut, also, for a black lance-corporal and three privates. By the kind permission of the lance-corporal, who came to see us as soon as he had got into his trousers and shirt, we took up our quarters in the Custom-house, which, like the other buildings, is a small square floorless hut of mangrove stakes overlaid with reeds. The soldiers complained of hunger, they had nothing to eat but a little mapira, and were making palm wine to deaden their cravings. While waiting for a ship, we had leisure to read the newspapers and periodicals we found in the mail which was waiting our arrival at Tette. Several were a year and a half old. Our provisions began to run short; and towards the end of the month there was nothing left but a little bad biscuit and a few ounces of sugar. Coffee and tea were expended, but scarcely missed, as our sailors discovered a pretty good substitute in roasted mapira. Fresh meat was obtained in abundance from our antelope preserves on the large island made by a creek between the Kongone and East Luabo. In this focus of decaying vegetation, nothing is so much to be dreaded as inactivity. We had, therefore, to find what exercise and amusement we could, when hunting was not required, in peering about in the fetid swamps; to have gone mooning about, in listless idleness, would have ensured fever in its worst form, and probably with fatal results. A curious little blenny-fish swarms in the numerous creeks which intersect the mangrove topes. When alarmed, it hurries across the surface of the water in a series of leaps. It may be considered amphibious, as it lives as much out of the water as in it, and its most busy time is during low water. Then it appears on the sand or mud, near the little pools left by the retiring tide; it raises itself on its pectoral fins into something of a standing attitude, and with its large projecting eyes keeps a sharp look-out for the light-coloured fly, on which it feeds. Should the fly alight at too great a distance for even a second leap, the blenny moves slowly towards it like a cat to its prey, or like a jumping spider; and, as soon as it gets within two or three inches of the insect, by a sudden spring contrives to pop its underset mouth directly over the unlucky victim. He is, moreover, a pugnacious little fellow; and rather prolonged fights may be observed between him and his brethren. One, in fleeing from an apparent danger, jumped into a pool a foot square, which the other evidently regarded as his by right of prior discovery; in a twinkling the owner, with eyes flashing fury, and with dorsal fin bristling up in rage, dashed at the intruding foe. The fight waxed furious, no tempest in a teapot ever equalled the storm of that miniature sea. The warriors were now in the water, and anon out of it, for the battle raged on sea and shore. They struck hard, they bit each other; until, becoming exhausted, they seized each other by the jaws like two bull-dogs, then paused for breath, and at it again as fiercely as before, until the combat ended by the precipitate retreat of the invader. The muddy ground under the mangrove-trees is covered with soldier-crabs, which quickly slink into their holes on any symptom of danger. When the ebbing tide retires, myriads of minute crabs emerge from their underground quarters, and begin to work like so many busy bees. Soon many miles of the smooth sand become rough with the results of their labour. They are toiling for their daily bread: a round bit of moist sand appears at the little labourer's mouth, and is quickly brushed off by one of the claws; a second bit follows the first; and another, and still another come as fast as they can be laid aside. As these pellets accumulate, the crab moves sideways, and the work continues. The first impression one receives is, that the little creature has swallowed a great deal of sand, and is getting rid of it as speedily as possible: a habit he indulges in of darting into his hole at intervals, as if for fresh supplies, tends to strengthen this idea; but the size of the heaps formed in a few seconds shows that this cannot be the case, and leads to the impression that, although not readily seen, at the distance at which he chooses to keep the observer, yet that possibly he raises the sand to his mouth, where whatever animalcule it may contain is sifted out of it, and the remainder rejected in the manner described. At times the larger species of crabs perform a sort of concert; and from each subterranean abode strange sounds arise, as if, in imitation of the songsters of the groves, for very joy they sang! We found some natives pounding the woody stems of a poisonous climbing- plant (_Dirca palustris_) called Busungu, or poison, which grows abundantly in the swamps. When a good quantity was bruised, it was tied up in bundles. The stream above and below was obstructed with bushes, and with a sort of rinsing motion the poison was diffused through the water. Many fish were soon affected, swain in shore, and died, others were only stupefied. The plant has pink, pea-shaped blossoms, and smooth, pointed, glossy leaves, and the brown bark is covered with minute white points. The knowledge of it might prove of use to a shipwrecked party by enabling them to catch the fish. The poison is said to be deleterious to man if the water is drunk; but not when the fish is cooked. The Busungu is repulsive to some insects, and is smeared round the shoots of the palm-trees to prevent the ants from getting into the palm wine while it is dropping from the tops of the palm-trees into the little pots suspended to collect it. We were in the habit of walking from our beds into the salt water at sunrise, for a bath, till a large crocodile appeared at the bathing-place, and from that time forth we took our dip in the sea, away from the harbour, about midday. This is said to be unwholesome, but we did not find it so. It is certainly better not to bathe in the mornings, when the air is colder than the water--for then, on returning to the cooler air, one is apt to get a chill and fever. In the mouth of the river, many saw-fish are found. Rowe saw one while bathing--caught it by the tail, and shoved it, "snout on," ashore. The saw is from a foot to eighteen inches long. We never heard of any one being wounded by this fish; nor, though it goes hundreds of miles up the river in fresh water, could we learn that it was eaten by the people. The hippopotami delighted to spend the day among the breakers, and seemed to enjoy the fun as much as we did. Severe gales occurred during our stay on the Coast, and many small sea- birds (_Prion Banksii_, Smith) perished: the beach was strewn with their dead bodies, and some were found hundreds of yards inland; many were so emaciated as to dry up without putrefying. We were plagued with myriads of mosquitoes, and had some touches of fever; the men we brought from malarious regions of the interior suffered almost as much from it here as we did ourselves. This gives strength to the idea that the civilized withstand the evil influences of strange climates better than the uncivilized. When negroes return to their own country from healthy lands, they suffer as severely as foreigners ever do. On the 31st of January, 1861, our new ship, the "Pioneer," arrived from England, and anchored outside the bar; but the weather was stormy, and she did not venture in till the 4th of February. Two of H.M. cruisers came at the same time, bringing Bishop Mackenzie, and the Oxford and Cambridge Mission to the tribes of the Shire and Lake Nyassa. The Mission consisted of six Englishmen, and five coloured men from the Cape. It was a puzzle to know what to do with so many men. The estimable Bishop, anxious to commence his work without delay, wished the "Pioneer" to carry the Mission up the Shire, as far as Chibisa's, and there leave them. But there were grave objections to this. The "Pioneer" was under orders to explore the Rovuma, as the Portuguese Government had refused to open the Zambesi to the ships of other nations, and their officials were very effectually pursuing a system, which, by abstracting the labour, was rendering the country of no value either to foreigners or to themselves. She was already two months behind her time, and the rainy season was half over. Then, if the party were taken to Chibisa's, the Mission would he left without a medical attendant, in an unhealthy region, at the beginning of the most sickly season of the year, and without means of reaching the healthy highlands, or of returning to the sea. We dreaded that, in the absence of medical aid and all knowledge of the treatment of fever, there might be a repetition of the sorrowful fate which befell the similar non-medical Mission at Linyanti. On the 25th of February the "Pioneer" anchored in the mouth of the Rovuma, which, unlike most African rivers, has a magnificent bay and no bar. We wooded, and then waited for the Bishop till the 9th of March, when he came in the "Lyra." On the 11th we proceeded up the river, and saw that it had fallen four or five feet during our detention. The scenery on the lower part of the Rovuma is superior to that on the Zambesi, for we can see the highlands from the sea. Eight miles from the mouth the mangroves are left behind, and a beautiful range of well-wooded hills on each bank begins. On these ridges the tree resembling African blackwood, of finer grain than ebony, grows abundantly, and attains a large size. Few people were seen, and those were of Arab breed, and did not appear to be very well off. The current of the Rovuma was now as strong as that of the Zambesi, but the volume of water is very much less. Several of the crossings had barely water enough for our ship, drawing five feet, to pass. When we were thirty miles up the river, the water fell suddenly seven inches in twenty-four hours. As the March flood is the last of the season, and it appeared to be expended, it was thought prudent to avoid the chance of a year's detention, by getting the ship back to the sea without delay. Had the Expedition been alone, we would have pushed up in boats, or afoot, and done what we could towards the exploration of the river and upper end of the lake; but, though the Mission was a private one, and entirely distinct from our own, a public one, the objects of both being similar, we felt anxious to aid our countrymen in their noble enterprise; and, rather than follow our own inclination, decided to return to the Shire, see the Mission party settled safely, and afterwards explore Lake Nyassa and the Rovuma, from the Lake downwards. Fever broke out on board the "Pioneer," at the mouth of the Rovuma, as we thought from our having anchored close to a creek coming out of the mangroves; and it remained in her until we completely isolated the engine-room from the rest of the ship. The coal-dust rotting sent out strong effluvia, and kept up the disease for more than a twelvemonth. Soon after we started the fever put the "Pioneer" almost entirely into the hands of the original Zambesi Expedition, and not long afterwards the leader had to navigate the ocean as well as the river. The habit of finding the geographical positions on land renders it an easy task to steer a steamer with only three or four sails at sea; where, if one does not run ashore, no one follows to find out an error, and where a current affords a ready excuse for every blunder. Touching at Mohilla, one of the Comoro Islands, on our return, we found a mixed race of Arabs, Africans, and their conquerors, the natives of Madagascar. Being Mahometans, they have mosques and schools, in which we were pleased to see girls as well as boys taught to read the Koran. The teacher said he was paid by the job, and received ten dollars for teaching each child to read. The clever ones learn in six months; but the dull ones take a couple of years. We next went over to Johanna for our friends; and, after a sojourn of a few days at the beautiful Comoro Islands, we sailed for the Kongone mouth of the Zambesi with Bishop Mackenzie and his party. We reached the coast in seven days, and passed up the Zambesi to the Shire. The "Pioneer," constructed under the skilful supervision of Admiral Sir Baldwin Walker and the late Admiral Washington, warm-hearted and highly esteemed friends of the Expedition, was a very superior vessel, and well suited for our work in every respect, except in her draught of water. Five feet were found to be too much for the navigation of the upper part of the Shire. Designed to draw three feet only, the weight necessary to impart extra strength, and fit her for the ocean, brought her down two feet more, and caused us a great deal of hard and vexatious work, in laying out anchors, and toiling at the capstan to get her off sandbanks. We should not have minded this much, but for the heavy loss of time which might have been more profitably, and infinitely more pleasantly, spent in intercourse with the people, exploring new regions, and otherwise carrying out the objects of the Expedition. Once we were a fortnight on a bank of soft yielding sand, having only two or three inches less water than the ship drew; this delay was occasioned by the anchors coming home, and the current swinging the ship broadside on the bank, which, immediately on our touching, always formed behind us. We did not like to leave the ship short of Chibisa's, lest the crew should suffer from the malaria of the lowland around; and it would have been difficult to have got the Mission goods carried up. We were daily visited by crowds of natives, who brought us abundance of provisions far beyond our ability to consume. In hauling the "Pioneer" over the shallow places, the Bishop, with Horace Waller and Mr. Scudamore, were ever ready and anxious to lend a hand, and worked as hard as any on board. Had our fine little ship drawn but three feet, she could have run up and down the river at any time of the year with the greatest ease, but as it was, having once passed up over a few shallow banks, it was impossible to take her down again until the river rose in December. She could go up over a bank, but not come down over it, as a heap of sand always formed instantly astern, while the current washed it away from under her bows. On at last reaching Chibisa's, we heard that there was war in the Manganja country, and the slave-trade was going on briskly. A deputation from a chief near Mount Zomba had just passed on its way to Chibisa, who was in a distant village, to implore him to come himself, or send medicine, to drive off the Waiao, Waiau, or Ajawa, whose marauding parties were desolating the land. A large gang of recently enslaved Manganja crossed the river, on their way to Tette, a few days before we got the ship up. Chibisa's deputy was civil, and readily gave us permission to hire as many men to carry the Bishop's goods up to the hills as were willing to go. With a sufficient number, therefore, we started for the highlands on the 15th of July, to show the Bishop the country, which, from its altitude and coolness, was most suitable for a station. Our first day's march was a long and fatiguing one. The few hamlets we passed were poor, and had no food for our men, and we were obliged to go on till 4 p.m., when we entered the small village of Chipindu. The inhabitants complained of hunger, and said they had no food to sell, and no hut for us to sleep in; but, if we would only go on a little further, we should come to a village where they had plenty to eat; but we had travelled far enough, and determined to remain where we were. Before sunset as much food was brought as we cared to purchase, and, as it threatened to rain, huts were provided for the whole party. Next forenoon we halted at the village of our old friend Mbame, to obtain new carriers, because Chibisa's men, never before having been hired, and not having yet learned to trust us, did not choose to go further. After resting a little, Mbame told us that a slave party on its way to Tette would presently pass through his village. "Shall we interfere?" we inquired of each other. We remembered that all our valuable private baggage was in Tette, which, if we freed the slaves, might, together with some Government property, be destroyed in retaliation; but this system of slave-hunters dogging us where previously they durst not venture, and, on pretence of being "our children," setting one tribe against another, to furnish themselves with slaves, would so inevitably thwart all the efforts, for which we had the sanction of the Portuguese Government, that we resolved to run all risks, and put a stop, if possible, to the slave- trade, which had now followed on the footsteps of our discoveries. A few minutes after Mbame had spoken to us, the slave party, a long line of manacled men, women, and children, came wending their way round the hill and into the valley, on the side of which the village stood. The black drivers, armed with muskets, and bedecked with various articles of finery, marched jauntily in the front, middle, and rear of the line; some of them blowing exultant notes out of long tin horns. They seemed to feel that they were doing a very noble thing, and might proudly march with an air of triumph. But the instant the fellows caught a glimpse of the English, they darted off like mad into the forest; so fast, indeed, that we caught but a glimpse of their red caps and the soles of their feet. The chief of the party alone remained; and he, from being in front, had his hand tightly grasped by a Makololo! He proved to be a well-known slave of the late Commandant at Tette, and for some time our own attendant while there. On asking him how he obtained these captives, he replied he had bought them; but on our inquiring of the people themselves, all, save four, said they had been captured in war. While this inquiry was going on, he bolted too. The captives knelt down, and, in their way of expressing thanks, clapped their hands with great energy. They were thus left entirely on our hands, and knives were soon busy at work cutting the women and children loose. It was more difficult to cut the men adrift, as each had his neck in the fork of a stout stick, six or seven feet long, and was kept in by an iron rod which was riveted at both ends across the throat. With a saw, luckily in the Bishop's baggage, one by one the men were sawn out into freedom. The women, on being told to take the meal they were carrying and cook breakfast for themselves and the children, seemed to consider the news too good to be true; but after a little coaxing went at it with alacrity, and made a capital fire by which to boil their pots with the slave sticks and bonds, their old acquaintances through many a sad night and weary day. Many were mere children about five years of age and under. One little boy, with the simplicity of childhood, said to our men, "The others tied and starved us, you cut the ropes and tell us to eat; what sort of people are you?--Where did you come from?" Two of the women had been shot the day before for attempting to untie the thongs. This, the rest were told, was to prevent them from attempting to escape. One woman had her infant's brains knocked out, because she could not carry her load and it. And a man was dispatched with an axe, because he had broken down with fatigue. Self-interest would have set a watch over the whole rather than commit murder; but in this traffic we invariably find self-interest overcome by contempt of human life and by bloodthirstiness. The Bishop was not present at this scene, having gone to bathe in a little stream below the village; but on his return he warmly approved of what had been done; he at first had doubts, but now felt that, had he been present, he would have joined us in the good work. Logic is out of place when the question with a true-hearted man is, whether his brother man is to be saved or not. Eighty-four, chiefly women and children, were liberated; and on being told that they were now free, and might go where they pleased, or remain with us, they all chose to stay; and the Bishop wisely attached them to his Mission, to be educated as members of a Christian family. In this way a great difficulty in the commencement of a Mission was overcome. Years are usually required before confidence is so far instilled into the natives' mind as to induce them, young or old, to submit to the guidance of strangers professing to be actuated by motives the reverse of worldly wisdom, and inculcating customs strange and unknown to them and their fathers. We proceeded next morning to Soche's with our liberated party, the men cheerfully carrying the Bishop's goods. As we had begun, it was of no use to do things by halves, so eight others were freed in a hamlet on our path; but a party of traders, with nearly a hundred slaves, fled from Soche's on hearing of our proceedings. Dr. Kirk and four Makololo followed them with great energy, but they made clear off to Tette. Six more captives were liberated at Mongazi's, and two slave-traders detained for the night, to prevent them from carrying information to a large party still in front. Of their own accord they volunteered the information that the Governor's servants had charge of the next party; but we did not choose to be led by them, though they offered to guide us to his Excellency's own agents. Two of the Bishop's black men from the Cape, having once been slaves, were now zealous emancipators, and volunteered to guard the prisoners during the night. So anxious were our heroes to keep them safe, that instead of relieving each other, by keeping watch and watch, both kept watch together, till towards four o'clock in the morning, when sleep stole gently over them both; and the wakeful prisoners, seizing the opportunity, escaped: one of the guards, perceiving the loss, rushed out of the hut, shouting, "They are gone, the prisoners are off, and they have taken my rifle with them, and the women too! Fire! everybody fire!" The rifle and the women, however, were all safe enough, the slave-traders being only too glad to escape alone. Fifty more slaves were freed next day in another village; and, the whole party being stark-naked, cloth enough was left to clothe them, better probably than they had ever been clothed before. The head of this gang, whom we knew as the agent of one of the principal merchants of Tette, said that they had the license of the Governor for all they did. This we were fully aware of without his stating it. It is quite impossible for any enterprise to be undertaken there without the Governor's knowledge and connivance. The portion of the highlands which the Bishop wished to look at before deciding on a settlement belonged to Chiwawa, or Chibaba, the most manly and generous Manganja chief we had met with on our previous journey. On reaching Nsambo's, near Mount Chiradzuru, we heard that Chibaba was dead, and that Chigunda was chief instead. Chigunda, apparently of his own accord, though possibly he may have learnt that the Bishop intended to settle somewhere in the country, asked him to come and live with him at Magomero, adding that there was room enough for both. This hearty and spontaneous invitation had considerable influence on the Bishop's mind, and seemed to decide the question. A place nearer the Shire would have been chosen had he expected his supplies to come up that river; but the Portuguese, claiming the river Shire, though never occupying even its mouth, had closed it, as well as the Zambesi. Our hopes were turned to the Rovuma, as a free highway into Lake Nyassa and the vast interior. A steamer was already ordered for the Lake, and the Bishop, seeing the advantageous nature of the highlands which stretch an immense way to the north, was more anxious to be near the Lake and the Rovuma, than the Shire. When he decided to settle at Magomero, it was thought desirable, to prevent the country from being depopulated, to visit the Ajawa chief, and to try and persuade him to give up his slaving and kidnapping courses, and turn the energies of his people to peaceful pursuits. On the morning of the 22nd we were informed that the Ajawa were near, and were burning a village a few miles off. Leaving the rescued slaves, we moved off to seek an interview with these scourges of the country. On our way we met crowds of Manganja fleeing from the war in front. These poor fugitives from the slave hunt had, as usual, to leave all the food they possessed, except the little they could carry on their heads. We passed field after field of Indian corn or beans, standing ripe for harvesting, but the owners were away. The villages were all deserted: one where we breakfasted two years before, and saw a number of men peacefully weaving cloth, and, among ourselves, called it the "Paisley of the hills," was burnt; the stores of corn were poured out in cartloads, and scattered all over the plain, and all along the paths, neither conquerors nor conquered having been able to convey it away. About two o'clock we saw the smoke of burning villages, and heard triumphant shouts, mingled with the wail of the Manganja women, lamenting over their slain. The Bishop then engaged us in fervent prayer; and, on rising from our knees, we saw a long line of Ajawa warriors, with their captives, coming round the hill-side. The first of the returning conquerors were entering their own village below, and we heard women welcoming them back with "lillilooings." The Ajawa headman left the path on seeing us, and stood on an anthill to obtain a complete view of our party. We called out that we had come to have an interview with them, but some of the Manganja who followed us shouted "Our Chibisa is come:" Chibisa being well known as a great conjurer and general. The Ajawa ran off yelling and screaming, "Nkondo! Nkondo!" (War! War!) We heard the words of the Manganja, but they did not strike us at the moment as neutralizing all our assertions of peace. The captives threw down their loads on the path, and fled to the hills: and a large body of armed men came running up from the village, and in a few seconds they were all around us, though mostly concealed by the projecting rocks and long grass. In vain we protested that we had not come to fight, but to talk with them. They would not listen, having, as we remembered afterwards, good reason, in the cry of "Our Chibisa." Flushed with recent victory over three villages, and confident of an easy triumph over a mere handful of men, they began to shoot their poisoned arrows, sending them with great force upwards of a hundred yards, and wounding one of our followers through the arm. Our retiring slowly up the ascent from the village only made them more eager to prevent our escape; and, in the belief that this retreat was evidence of fear, they closed upon us in bloodthirsty fury. Some came within fifty yards, dancing hideously; others having quite surrounded us, and availing themselves of the rocks and long grass hard by, were intent on cutting us off, while others made off with their women and a large body of slaves. Four were armed with muskets, and we were obliged in self-defence to return their fire and drive them off. When they saw the range of rifles, they very soon desisted, and ran away; but some shouted to us from the hills the consoling intimation, that they would follow, and kill us where we slept. Only two of the captives escaped to us, but probably most of those made prisoners that day fled elsewhere in the confusion. We returned to the village which we had left in the morning, after a hungry, fatiguing, and most unpleasant day. Though we could not blame ourselves for the course we had followed, we felt sorry for what had happened. It was the first time we had ever been attacked by the natives or come into collision with them; though we had always taken it for granted that we might be called upon to act in self- defence, we were on this occasion less prepared than usual, no game having been expected here. The men had only a single round of cartridge each; their leader had no revolver, and the rifle he usually fired with was left at the ship to save it from the damp of the season. Had we known better the effect of slavery and murder on the temper of these bloodthirsty marauders, we should have tried messages and presents before going near them. The old chief, Chinsunse, came on a visit to us next day, and pressed the Bishop to come and live with him. "Chigunda," he said, "is but a child, and the Bishop ought to live with the father rather than with the child." But the old man's object was so evidently to have the Mission as a shield against the Ajawa, that his invitation was declined. While begging us to drive away the marauders, that he might live in peace, he adopted the stratagem of causing a number of his men to rush into the village, in breathless haste, with the news that the Ajawa were close upon us. And having been reminded that we never fought, unless attacked, as we were the day before, and that we had come among them for the purpose of promoting peace, and of teaching them to worship the Supreme, to give up selling His children, and to cultivate other objects for barter than each other, he replied, in a huff, "Then I am dead already." The Bishop, feeling, as most Englishmen would, at the prospect of the people now in his charge being swept off into slavery by hordes of men- stealers, proposed to go at once to the rescue of the captive Manganja, and drive the marauding Ajawa out of the country. All were warmly in favour of this, save Dr. Livingstone, who opposed it on the ground that it would be better for the Bishop to wait, and see the effect of the check the slave-hunters had just experienced. The Ajawa were evidently goaded on by Portuguese agents from Tette, and there was no bond of union among the Manganja on which to work. It was possible that the Ajawa might be persuaded to something better, though, from having long been in the habit of slaving for the Quillimane market, it was not very probable. But the Manganja could easily be overcome piecemeal by any enemy; old feuds made them glad to see calamities befall their next neighbours. We counselled them to unite against the common enemies of their country, and added distinctly that we English would on no account enter into their quarrels. On the Bishop inquiring whether, in the event of the Manganja again asking aid against the Ajawa, it would be his duty to accede to their request,--"No," replied Dr. Livingstone, "you will be oppressed by their importunities, but do not interfere in native quarrels." This advice the good man honourably mentions in his journal. We have been rather minute in relating what occurred during the few days of our connection with the Mission of the English Universities, on the hills, because, the recorded advice having been discarded, blame was thrown on Dr. Livingstone's shoulders, as if the missionaries had no individual responsibility for their subsequent conduct. This, unquestionably, good Bishop Mackenzie had too much manliness to have allowed. The connection of the members of the Zambesi Expedition, with the acts of the Bishop's Mission, now ceased, for we returned to the ship and prepared for our journey to Lake Nyassa. We cheerfully, if necessary, will bear all responsibility up to this point; and if the Bishop afterwards made mistakes in certain collisions with the slavers, he had the votes of all his party with him, and those who best knew the peculiar circumstances, and the loving disposition of this good-hearted man, will blame him least. In this position, and in these circumstances, we left our friends at the Mission Station. As a temporary measure the Bishop decided to place his Mission Station on a small promontory formed by the windings of the little, clear stream of Magomero, which was so cold that the limbs were quite benumbed by washing in it in the July mornings. The site chosen was a pleasant spot to the eye, and completely surrounded by stately, shady trees. It was expected to serve for a residence, till the Bishop had acquired an accurate knowledge of the adjacent country, and of the political relations of the people, and could select a healthy and commanding situation, as a permanent centre of Christian civilization. Everything promised fairly. The weather was delightful, resembling the pleasantest part of an English summer; provisions poured in very cheap and in great abundance. The Bishop, with characteristic ardour, commenced learning the language, Mr. Waller began building, and Mr. Scudamore improvised a sort of infant school for the children, than which there is no better means for acquiring an unwritten tongue. On the 6th of August, 1861, a few days after returning from Magomero, Drs. Livingstone and Kirk, and Charles Livingstone started for Nyassa with a light four-oared gig, a white sailor, and a score of attendants. We hired people along the path to carry the boat past the forty miles of the Murchison Cataracts for a cubit of cotton cloth a day. This being deemed great wages, more than twice the men required eagerly offered their services. The chief difficulty was in limiting their numbers. Crowds followed us; and, had we not taken down in the morning the names of the porters engaged, in the evening claims would have been made by those who only helped during the last ten minutes of the journey. The men of one village carried the boat to the next, and all we had to do was to tell the headman that we wanted fresh men in the morning. He saw us pay the first party, and had his men ready at the time appointed, so there was no delay in waiting for carriers. They often make a loud noise when carrying heavy loads, but talking and bawling does not put them out of breath. The country was rough and with little soil on it, but covered with grass and open forest. A few small trees were cut down to clear a path for our shouting assistants, who were good enough to consider the boat as a certificate of peaceful intentions at least to them. Several small streams were passed, the largest of which were the Mukuru-Madse and Lesungwe. The inhabitants on both banks were now civil and obliging. Our possession of a boat, and consequent power of crossing independently of the canoes, helped to develop their good manners, which were not apparent on our previous visit. There is often a surprising contrast between neighbouring villages. One is well off and thriving, having good huts, plenty of food, and native cloth; and its people are frank, trusty, generous, and eager to sell provisions; while in the next the inhabitants may be ill-housed, disobliging, suspicious, ill-fed, and scantily clad, and with nothing for sale, though the land around is as fertile as that of their wealthier neighbours. We followed the river for the most part to avail ourselves of the still reaches for sailing; but a comparatively smooth country lies further inland, over which a good road could be made. Some of the five main cataracts are very grand, the river falling 1200 feet in the 40 miles. After passing the last of the cataracts, we launched our boat for good on the broad and deep waters of the Upper Shire, and were virtually on the lake, for the gentle current shows but little difference of level. The bed is broad and deep, but the course is rather tortuous at first, and makes a long bend to the east till it comes within five or six miles of the base of Mount Zomba. The natives regarded the Upper Shire as a prolongation of Lake Nyassa; for where what we called the river approaches Lake Shirwa, a little north of the mountains, they said that the hippopotami, "which are great night travellers," pass from _one lake into the other_. There the land is flat, and only a short land journey would be necessary. Seldom does the current here exceed a knot an hour, while that of the Lower Shire is from two to two-and-a-half knots. Our land party of Makololo accompanied us along the right bank, and passed thousands of Manganja fugitives living in temporary huts on that side, who had recently been driven from their villages on the opposite hills by the Ajawa. The soil was dry and hard, and covered with mopane-trees; but some of the Manganja were busy hoeing the ground and planting the little corn they had brought with them. The effects of hunger were already visible on those whose food had been seized or burned by the Ajawa and Portuguese slave-traders. The spokesman or prime minister of one of the chiefs, named Kalonjere, was a humpbacked dwarf, a fluent speaker, who tried hard to make us go over and drive off the Ajawa; but he could not deny that by selling people Kalonjere had invited these slave-hunters to the country. This is the second humpbacked dwarf we have found occupying the like important post, the other was the prime minister of a Batonga chief on the Zambesi. As we sailed along, we disturbed many white-breasted cormorants; we had seen the same species fishing between the cataracts. Here, with many other wild-fowls, they find subsistence on the smooth water by night, and sit sleepily on trees and in the reeds by day. Many hippopotami were seen in the river, and one of them stretched its wide jaws, as if to swallow the whole stern of the boat, close to Dr. Kirk's back; the animal was so near that, in opening its mouth, it lashed a quantity of water on to the stern-sheets, but did no damage. To avoid large marauding parties of Ajawa, on the left bank of the Shire, we continued on the right, or western side, with our land party, along the shore of the small lake Pamalombe. This lakelet is ten or twelve miles in length, and five or six broad. It is nearly surrounded by a broad belt of papyrus, so dense that we could scarcely find an opening to the shore. The plants, ten or twelve feet high, grew so closely together that air was excluded, and so much sulphuretted hydrogen gas evolved that by one night's exposure the bottom of the boat was blackened. Myriads of mosquitoes showed, as probably they always do, the presence of malaria. We hastened from this sickly spot, trying to take the attentions of the mosquitoes as hints to seek more pleasant quarters on the healthy shores of Lake Nyassa; and when we sailed into it, on the 2nd September, we felt refreshed by the greater coolness of the air off this large body of water. The depth was the first point of interest. This is indicated by the colour of the water, which, on a belt along the shore, varying from a quarter to half a mile in breadth, is light green, and this is met by the deep blue or indigo tint of the Indian Ocean, which is the colour of the great body of Nyassa. We found the Upper Shire from nine to fifteen feet in depth; but skirting the western side of the lake about a mile from the shore the water deepened from nine to fifteen fathoms; then, as we rounded the grand mountainous promontory, which we named Cape Maclear, after our excellent friend the Astronomer Royal at the Cape of Good Hope, we could get no bottom with our lead-line of thirty-five fathoms. We pulled along the western shore, which was a succession of bays, and found that where the bottom was sandy near the beach, and to a mile out, the depth varied from six to fourteen fathoms. In a rocky bay about latitude 11 degrees 40 minutes we had soundings at 100 fathoms, though outside the same bay we found none with a fishing-line of 116 fathoms; but this cast was unsatisfactory, as the line broke in coming up. According to our present knowledge, a ship could anchor only near the shore. Looking back to the southern end of Lake Nyassa, the arm from which the Shire flows was found to be about thirty miles long and from ten to twelve broad. Rounding Cape Maclear, and looking to the south-west, we have another arm, which stretches some eighteen miles southward, and is from six to twelve miles in breadth. These arms give the southern end a forked appearance, and with the help of a little imagination it may be likened to the "boot-shape" of Italy. The narrowest part is about the ankle, eighteen or twenty miles. From this it widens to the north, and in the upper third or fourth it is fifty or sixty miles broad. The length is over 200 miles. The direction in which it lies is as near as possible due north and south. Nothing of the great bend to the west, shown in all the previous maps, could be detected by either compass or chronometer, and the watch we used was an excellent one. The season of the year was very unfavourable. The "smokes" filled the air with an impenetrable haze, and the equinoctial gales made it impossible for us to cross to the eastern side. When we caught a glimpse of the sun rising from behind the mountains to the east, we made sketches and bearings of them at different latitudes, which enabled us to secure approximate measurements of the width. These agreed with the times taken by the natives at the different crossing-places--as Tsenga and Molamba. About the beginning of the upper third the lake is crossed by taking advantage of the island Chizumara, which name in the native tongue means the "ending;" further north they go round the end instead, though that takes several days. The lake appeared to be surrounded by mountains, but it was afterwards found that these beautiful tree-covered heights were, on the west, only the edges of high table-lands. Like all narrow seas encircled by highlands, it is visited by sudden and tremendous storms. We were on it in September and October, perhaps the stormiest season of the year, and were repeatedly detained by gales. At times, while sailing pleasantly over the blue water with a gentle breeze, suddenly and without any warning was heard the sound of a coming storm, roaring on with crowds of angry waves in its wake. We were caught one morning with the sea breaking all around us, and, unable either to advance or recede, anchored a mile from shore, in seven fathoms. The furious surf on the beach would have shivered our boat to atoms, had we tried to land. The waves most dreaded came rolling on in threes, with their crests, driven into spray, streaming behind them. A short lull followed each triple charge. Had one of these seas struck our boat, nothing could have saved us; for they came on with resistless force; seaward, in shore, and on either side of us, they broke in foam, but we escaped. For six weary hours we faced those terrible trios. A low, dark, detached, oddly shaped cloud came slowly from the mountains, and hung for hours directly over our heads. A flock of night-jars (_Cometornis vexillarius_), which on no other occasion come out by day, soared above us in the gale, like birds of evil omen. Our black crew became sea-sick and unable to sit up or keep the boat's head to the sea. The natives and our land party stood on the high cliffs looking at us and exclaiming, as the waves seemed to swallow up the boat, "They are lost! they are all dead!" When at last the gale moderated and we got safely ashore, they saluted us warmly, as after a long absence. From this time we trusted implicitly to the opinions of our seaman, John Neil, who, having been a fisherman on the coast of Ireland, understood boating on a stormy coast, and by his advice we often sat cowering on the land for days together waiting for the surf to go down. He had never seen such waves before. We had to beach the boat every night to save her from being swamped at anchor; and, did we not believe the gales to be peculiar to one season of the year, would call Nyassa the "Lake of Storms." Distinct white marks on the rocks showed that, for some time during the rainy season, the water of the lake is three feet above the point to which it falls towards the close of the dry period of the year. The rains begin here in November, and the permanent rise of the Shire does not take place till January. The western side of Lake Nyassa, with the exception of the great harbour to the west of Cape Maclear, is, as has been said before, a succession of small bays of nearly similar form, each having an open sandy beach and pebbly shore, and being separated from its neighbour by a rocky headland, with detached rocks extending some distance out to sea. The great south-western bay referred to would form a magnificent harbour, the only really good one we saw to the west. The land immediately adjacent to the lake is low and fertile, though in some places marshy and tenanted by large flocks of ducks, geese, herons, crowned cranes, and other birds. In the southern parts we have sometimes ten or a dozen miles of rich plains, bordered by what seem high ranges of well-wooded hills, running nearly parallel with the lake. Northwards the mountains become loftier and present some magnificent views, range towering beyond range, until the dim, lofty outlines projected against the sky bound the prospect. Still further north the plain becomes more narrow, until, near where we turned, it disappears altogether, and the mountains rise abruptly out of the lake, forming the north-east boundary of what was described to us as an extensive table-land; well suited for pasturage and agriculture, and now only partially occupied by a tribe of Zulus, who came from the south some years ago. These people own large herds of cattle, and are constantly increasing in numbers by annexing other tribes. CHAPTER X. The Lake tribes--The Mazitu--Quantities of elephants--Distressing journey--Detention on the Shire. Never before in Africa have we seen anything like the dense population on the shores of Lake Nyassa. In the southern part there was an almost unbroken chain of villages. On the beach of wellnigh of every little sandy bay, dark crowds were standing, gazing at the novel sight of a boat under sail; and wherever we landed we were surrounded in a few seconds by hundreds of men, women, and children, who hastened to have a stare at the "chirombo" (wild animals). During a portion of the year, the northern dwellers on the lake have a harvest which furnishes a singular sort of food. As we approached our limit in that direction, clouds, as of smoke rising from miles of burning grass, were observed bending in a south-easterly direction, and we thought that the unseen land on the opposite side was closing in, and that we were near the end of the lake. But next morning we sailed through one of the clouds on our own side, and discovered that it was neither smoke nor haze, but countless millions of minute midges called "kungo" (a cloud or fog). They filled the air to an immense height, and swarmed upon the water, too light to sink in it. Eyes and mouth had to be kept closed while passing through this living cloud: they struck upon the face like fine drifting snow. Thousands lay in the boat when she emerged from the cloud of midges. The people gather these minute insects by night, and boil them into thick cakes, to be used as a relish--millions of midges in a cake. A kungo cake, an inch thick, and as large as the blue bonnet of a Scotch ploughman, was offered to us; it was very dark in colour, and tasted not unlike caviare, or salted locusts. Abundance of excellent fish is found in the lake, and nearly all were new to us. The mpasa, or sanjika, found by Dr. Kirk to be a kind of carp, was running up the rivers to spawn, like our salmon at home: the largest we saw was over two feet in length; it is a splendid fish, and the best we have ever eaten in Africa. They were ascending the rivers in August and September, and furnished active and profitable employment to many fishermen, who did not mind their being out of season. Weirs were constructed full of sluices, in each of which was set a large basket-trap, through whose single tortuous opening the fish once in has but small chance of escape. A short distance below the weir, nets are stretched across from bank to bank, so that it seemed a marvel how the most sagacious sanjika could get up at all without being taken. Possibly a passage up the river is found at night; but this is not the country of Sundays or "close times" for either men or fish. The lake fish are caught chiefly in nets, although men, and even women with babies on their backs, are occasionally seen fishing from the rocks with hooks. A net with small meshes is used for catching the young fry of a silvery kind like pickerel, when they are about two inches long; thousands are often taken in a single haul. We had a present of a large bucketful one day for dinner: they tasted as if they had been cooked with a little quinine, probably from their gall-bladders being left in. In deep water, some sorts are taken by lowering fish-baskets attached by a long cord to a float, around which is often tied a mass of grass or weeds, as an alluring shade for the deep-sea fish. Fleets of fine canoes are engaged in the fisheries. The men have long paddles, and stand erect while using them. They sometimes venture out when a considerable sea is running. Our Makololo acknowledge that, in handling canoes, the Lake men beat them; they were unwilling to cross the Zambesi even, when the wind blew fresh. Though there are many crocodiles in the lake, and some of an extraordinary size, the fishermen say that it is a rare thing for any one to be carried off by these reptiles. When crocodiles can easily obtain abundance of fish--their natural food--they seldom attack men; but when unable to see to catch their prey, from the muddiness of the water in floods, they are very dangerous. Many men and boys are employed in gathering the buaze, in preparing the fibre, and in making it into long nets. The knot of the net is different from ours, for they invariably use what sailors call the reef knot, but they net with a needle like that we use. From the amount of native cotton cloth worn in many of the southern villages, it is evident that a great number of hands and heads must be employed in the cultivation of cotton, and in the various slow processes through which it has to pass, before the web is finished in the native loom. In addition to this branch of industry, an extensive manufacture of cloth, from the inner bark of an undescribed tree, of the botanical group, _Caesalpineae_, is ever going on, from one end of the lake to the other; and both toil and time are required to procure the bark, and to prepare it by pounding and steeping it to render it soft and pliable. The prodigious amount of the bark clothing worn indicates the destruction of an immense number of trees every year; yet the adjacent heights seem still well covered with timber. The Lake people are by no means handsome: the women are _very_ plain; and really make themselves hideous by the means they adopt to render themselves attractive. The _pelele_, or ornament for the upper lip, is universally worn by the ladies; the most valuable is of pure tin, hammered into the shape of a small dish; some are made of white quartz, and give the wearer the appearance of having an inch or more of one of Price's patent candles thrust through the lip, and projecting beyond the tip of the nose. In character, the Lake tribes are very much like other people; there are decent men among them, while a good many are no better than they should be. They are open-handed enough: if one of us, as was often the case, went to see a net drawn, a fish was always offered. Sailing one day past a number of men, who had just dragged their nets ashore, at one of the fine fisheries at Pamalombe, we were hailed and asked to stop, and received a liberal donation of beautiful fish. Arriving late one afternoon at a small village on the lake, a number of the inhabitants manned two canoes, took out their seine, dragged it, and made us a present of the entire haul. The northern chief, Marenga, a tall handsome man, with a fine aquiline nose, whom we found living in his stockade in a forest about twenty miles north of the mountain Kowirwe, behaved like a gentleman to us. His land extended from Dambo to the north of Makuza hill. He was specially generous, and gave us bountiful presents of food and beer. "Do they wear such things in your country?" he asked, pointing to his iron bracelet, which was studded with copper, and highly prized. The Doctor said he had never seen such in his country, whereupon Marenga instantly took it off, and presented it to him, and his wife also did the same with hers. On our return south from the mountains near the north end of the lake, we reached Marenga's on the 7th October. When he could not prevail upon us to forego the advantage of a fair wind for his invitation to "spend the whole day drinking his beer, which was," he said, "quite ready," he loaded us with provisions, all of which he sent for before we gave him any present. In allusion to the boat's sail, his people said that they had no Bazimo, or none worth having, seeing they had never invented the like for them. The chief, Mankambira, likewise treated us with kindness; but wherever the slave-trade is carried on, the people are dishonest and uncivil; that invariably leaves a blight and a curse in its path. The first question put to us at the lake crossing- places, was, "Have you come to buy slaves?" On hearing that we were English, and never purchased slaves, the questioners put on a supercilious air, and sometimes refused to sell us food. This want of respect to us may have been owing to the impressions conveyed to them by the Arabs, whose dhows have sometimes been taken by English cruisers when engaged in lawful trade. Much foreign cloth, beads, and brass-wire were worn by these ferrymen--and some had muskets. By Chitanda, near one of the slave crossing-places, we were robbed for the first time in Africa, and learned by experience that these people, like more civilized nations, have expert thieves among them. It might be only a coincidence; but we never suffered from impudence, loss of property, or were endangered, unless among people familiar with slaving. We had such a general sense of security, that never, save when we suspected treachery, did we set a watch at night. Our native companions had, on this occasion, been carousing on beer, and had removed to a distance of some thirty yards, that we might not overhear their free and easy after-dinner remarks, and two of us had a slight touch of fever; between three and four o'clock in the morning some thieves came, while we slept ingloriously--rifles and revolvers all ready,--and relieved us of most of our goods. The boat's sail, under which we slept, was open all around, so the feat was easy. Awaking as honest men do, at the usual hour, the loss of one was announced by "My bag is gone--with all my clothes; and my boots too!" "And mine!" responded a second. "And mine also!" chimed in the third, "with the bag of beads, and the rice!" "Is the cloth taken?" was the eager inquiry, as that would have been equivalent to all our money. It had been used for a pillow that night, and thus saved. The rogues left on the beach, close to our beds, the Aneroid Barometer and a pair of boots, thinking possibly that they might be of use to us, or, at least, that they could be of none to them. They shoved back some dried plants and fishes into one bag, but carried off many other specimens we had collected; some of our notes also, and nearly all our clothing. We could not suspect the people of the village near which we lay. We had probably been followed for days by the thieves watching for an opportunity. And our suspicions fell on some persons who had come from the East Coast; but having no evidence, and expecting to hear if our goods were exposed for sale in the vicinity, we made no fuss about it, and began to make new clothing. That our rifles and revolvers were left untouched was greatly to our advantage: yet we felt it was most humiliating for armed men to have been so thoroughly fleeced by a few black rascals. Some of the best fisheries appear to be private property. We found shelter from a storm one morning in a spacious lagoon, which communicated with the lake by a narrow passage. Across this strait stakes were driven in, leaving only spaces for the basket fish-traps. A score of men were busily engaged in taking out the fish. We tried to purchase some, but they refused to sell. The fish did not belong to them, they would send for the proprietor of the place. The proprietor arrived in a short time, and readily sold what we wanted. Some of the burying-grounds are very well arranged, and well cared for; this was noticed at Chitanda, and more particularly at a village on the southern shore of the fine harbour at Cape Maclear. Wide and neat paths were made in the burying-ground on its eastern and southern sides. A grand old fig-tree stood at the north-east corner, and its wide-spreading branches threw their kindly shade over the last resting-place of the dead. Several other magnificent trees grew around the hallowed spot. Mounds were raised as they are at home, but all lay north and south, the heads apparently north. The graves of the sexes were distinguished by the various implements which the buried dead had used in their different employments during life; but they were all broken, as if to be employed no more. A piece of fishing-net and a broken paddle told where a fisherman lay. The graves of the women had the wooden mortar, and the heavy pestle used in pounding the corn, and the basket in which the meal is sifted, while all had numerous broken calabashes and pots arranged around them. The idea that the future life is like the present does not appear to prevail; yet a banana-tree had been carefully planted at the head of several of the graves; the fruit might be considered an offering to those who still possess human tastes. The people of the neighbouring villages were friendly and obliging, and willingly brought us food for sale. Pursuing our exploration, we found that the northern part of the lake was the abode of lawlessness and bloodshed. The Mazite, or Mazitu, live on the highlands, and make sudden swoops on the villages of the plains. They are Zulus who came originally from the south, inland of Sofalla and Inhambane; and are of the same family as those who levy annual tribute from the Portuguese on the Zambesi. All the villages north of Mankambira's (lat. 11 degrees 44 minutes south) had been recently destroyed by these terrible marauders, but they were foiled in their attacks upon that chief and Marenga. The thickets and stockades round their villages enabled the bowmen to pick off the Mazitu in security, while they were afraid to venture near any place where they could not use their shields. Beyond Mankambira's we saw burned villages, and the putrid bodies of many who had fallen by Mazitu spears only a few days before. Our land party were afraid to go further. This reluctance to proceed without the presence of a white man was very natural, because bands of the enemy who had ravaged the country were supposed to be still roaming about; and if these marauders saw none but men of their own colour, our party might forthwith be attacked. Compliance with their request led to an event which might have been attended by very serious consequences. Dr. Livingstone got separated from the party in the boat for four days. Having taken the first morning's journey along with them, and directing the boat to call for him in a bay in sight, both parties proceeded north. In an hour Dr. Livingstone and his party struck inland, on approaching the foot of the mountains which rise abruptly from the lake. Supposing that they had heard of a path behind the high range which there forms the shore, those in the boat held on their course; but it soon began to blow so fresh that they had to run ashore for safety. While delayed a couple of hours, two men were sent up the hills to look for the land party, but they could see nothing of them, and the boat party sailed as soon as it was safe to put to sea, with the conviction that the missing ones would regain the lake in front. In a short time a small island or mass of rocks was passed, on which were a number of armed Mazitu with some young women, apparently their wives. The headman said that he had been wounded in the foot by Mankambira, and that they were staying there till he could walk to his chief, who lived over the hills. They had several large canoes, and it was evident that this was a nest of lake pirates, who sallied out by night to kill and plunder. They reported a path behind the hills, and, the crew being reassured, the boat sailed on. A few miles further, another and still larger band of pirates were fallen in with, and hundreds of crows and kites hovered over and round the rocks on which they lived. Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone, though ordered in a voice of authority to come ashore, kept on their course. A number of canoes then shot out from the rocks and chased them. One with nine strong paddlers persevered for some time after all the others gave up the chase. A good breeze, however, enabled the gig to get away from them with ease. After sailing twelve or fifteen miles, north of the point where Dr. Livingstone had left them, it was decided that he must be behind; but no sooner had the boat's head been turned south, than another gale compelled her to seek shelter in a bay. Here a number of wretched fugitives from the slave-trade on the opposite shore of the lake were found; the original inhabitants of the place had all been swept off the year before by the Mazitu. In the deserted gardens beautiful cotton was seen growing, much of it had the staple an inch and a half long, and of very fine quality. Some of the plants were uncommonly large, deserving to be ranked with trees. On their trying to purchase food, the natives had nothing to sell except a little dried cassava-root, and a few fish: and they demanded two yards of calico for the head only of a large fish. When the gale admitted of their return, their former pursuers tried to draw them ashore by asserting that they had quantities of ivory for sale. Owing to a succession of gales, it was the fourth day from parting that the boat was found by Dr. Livingstone, who was coming on in search of it with only two of his companions. After proceeding a short distance up the path in which they had been lost sight of, they learned that it would take several days to go round the mountains, and rejoin the lake; and they therefore turned down to the bay, expecting to find the boat, but only saw it disappearing away to the north. They pushed on as briskly as possible after it, but the mountain flank which forms the coast proved excessively tedious and fatiguing; travelling all day, the distance made, in a straight line, was under five miles. As soon as day dawned, the march was resumed; and, after hearing at the first inhabited rock that their companions had passed it the day before, a goat was slaughtered out of the four which they had with them, when suddenly, to the evident consternation of the men, seven Mazitu appeared armed with spears and shields, with their heads dressed fantastically with feathers. To hold a parley, Dr. Livingstone and Moloka, a Makololo man who spoke Zulu, went unarmed to meet them. On Dr. Livingstone approaching them, they ordered him to stop, and sit down in the sun, while they sat in the shade. "No, no!" was the reply, "if you sit in the shade, so will we." They then rattled their shields with their clubs, a proceeding which usually inspires terror; but Moloka remarked, "It is not the first time we have heard shields rattled." And all sat down together. They asked for a present, to show their chief that they had actually met strangers--something as evidence of having seen men who were not Arabs. And they were requested in turn to take these strangers to the boat, or to their chief. All the goods were in the boat, and to show that no present such as they wanted was in his pockets, Dr. Livingstone emptied them, turning out, among other things, a note-book: thinking it was a pistol they started up, and said, "Put that in again." The younger men then became boisterous, and demanded a goat. That could not be spared, as they were the sole provisions. When they insisted, they were asked how many of the party they had killed, that they thus began to divide the spoil; this evidently made them ashamed. The elders were more reasonable; they dreaded treachery, and were as much afraid of Dr. Livingstone and his party as his men were of them; for on leaving they sped away up the hills like frightened deer. One of them, and probably the leader, was married, as seen by portions of his hair sewn into a ring; all were observed by their teeth to be people of the country, who had been incorporated into the Zulu tribe. The way still led over a succession of steep ridges with ravines of from 500 to 1000 feet in depth; some of the sides had to be scaled on hands and knees, and no sooner was the top reached than the descent began again. Each ravine had a running stream; and the whole country, though so very rugged, had all been cultivated, and densely peopled. Many banana-trees, uncared for patches of corn, and Congo-bean bushes attested former cultivation. The population had all been swept away; ruined villages, broken utensils, and human skeletons, met with at every turn, told a sad tale. So numerous were the slain, that it was thought the inhabitants had been slaughtered in consequence of having made raids on the Zulus for cattle. Continuing the journey that night as long as light served, they slept unconsciously on the edge of a deep precipice, without fire, lest the Mazitu should see it. Next morning most of the men were tired out, the dread of the apparition of the day before tending probably to increase the lameness of which they complained. When told, however, that all might return to Mankambira's save two, Moloka and Charlie, they would not, till assured that the act would not be considered one of cowardice. Giving them one of the goats as provision, another was slaughtered for the remainder of the party who, having found on the rocks a canoe which had belonged to one of the deserted villages, determined to put to sea again; but the craft was very small, and the remaining goat, spite of many a threat of having its throat cut, jumped and rolled about so, as nearly to capsize it; so Dr. Livingstone took to the shore again, and after another night spent without fire, except just for cooking, was delighted to see the boat coming back. We pulled that day to Mankambira's, a distance that on shore, with the most heartbreaking toil, had taken three days to travel. This was the last latitude taken, 11 degrees 44 minutes S. The boat had gone about 24 minutes further to the north, the land party probably half that distance, but fever prevented the instruments being used. Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone were therefore furthest up the lake, and they saw about 20 minutes beyond their turning-point, say into the tenth degree of south latitude. From the heights of at least a thousand feet, over which the land party toiled, the dark mountain masses on both sides of the lake were seen closing in. At this elevation the view extended at least as far as that from the boats, and it is believed the end of the lake lies on the southern borders of 10 degrees, or the northern limits of 11 degrees south latitude. Elephants are numerous on the borders of the lake, and surprisingly tame, being often found close to the villages. Hippopotami swarm very much at their ease in the creeks and lagoons, and herds are sometimes seen in the lake itself. Their tameness arises from the fact that poisoned arrows have no effect on either elephant or hippopotamus. Five of each were shot for food during our journey. Two of the elephants were females, and had only a single tusk apiece, and were each killed by the first shot. It is always a case of famine or satiety when depending on the rifle for food--a glut of meat or none at all. Most frequently it is scanty fare, except when game is abundant, as it is far up the Zambesi. We had one morning two hippopotami and an elephant, perhaps in all some eight tons of meat, and two days after the last of a few sardines only for dinner. One morning when sailing past a pretty thickly-inhabited part, we were surprised at seeing nine large bull-elephants standing near the beach quietly flapping their gigantic ears. Glad of an opportunity of getting some fresh meat, we landed and fired into one. They all retreated into a marshy piece of ground between two villages. Our men gave chase, and fired into the herd. Standing on a sand hummock, we could see the bleeding animals throwing showers of water with their trunks over their backs. The herd was soon driven back upon us, and a wounded one turned to bay. Yet neither this one, nor any of the others, ever attempted to charge. Having broken his legs with a rifle-ball, we fired into him at forty yards as rapidly as we could load and discharge the rifles. He simply shook his head at each shot, and received at least sixty Enfield balls before he fell. Our excellent sailor from the north of Ireland happened to fire the last, and, as soon as he saw the animal fall, he turned with an air of triumph to the Doctor and exclaimed, "It was _my_ shot that done it, sir!" In a few minutes upwards of a thousand natives were round the prostrate king of beasts; and, after our men had taken all they wanted, an invitation was given to the villagers to take the remainder. They rushed at it like hungry hyenas, and in an incredibly short time every inch of it was carried off. It was only by knowing that the meat would all be used that we felt justified in the slaughter of this noble creature. The tusks weighed 62 lbs. each. A large amount of ivory might be obtained from the people of Nyassa, and we were frequently told of their having it in their huts. While detained by a storm on the 17th October at the mouth of the Kaombe, we were visited by several men belonging to an Arab who had been for fourteen years in the interior at Katanga's, south of Cazembe's. They had just brought down ivory, malachite, copper rings, and slaves to exchange for cloth at the lake. The malachite was said to be dug out of a large vein on the side of a hill near Katanga's. They knew Lake Tanganyika well, but had not heard of the Zambesi. They spoke quite positively, saying that the water of Lake Tanganyika flowed out by the opposite end to that of Nyassa. As they had seen neither of the overflows, we took it simply as a piece of Arab geography. We passed their establishment of long sheds next day, and were satisfied that the Arabs must be driving a good trade. The Lake slave-trade was going on at a terrible rate. Two enterprising Arabs had built a dhow, and were running her, crowded with slaves, regularly across the Lake. We were told she sailed the day before we reached their head-quarters. This establishment is in the latitude of the Portuguese slave-exporting town of Iboe, and partly supplies that vile market; but the greater number of the slaves go to Kilwa. We did not see much evidence of a wish to barter. Some ivory was offered for sale; but the chief traffic was in human chattels. Would that we could give a comprehensive account of the horrors of the slave-trade, with an approximation to the number of lives it yearly destroys! for we feel sure that were even half the truth told and recognized, the feelings of men would be so thoroughly roused, that this devilish traffic in human flesh would be put down at all risks; but neither we, nor any one else, have the statistics necessary for a work of this kind. Let us state what we do know of one portion of Africa, and then every reader who believes our tale can apply the ratio of the known misery to find out the unknown. We were informed by Colonel Rigby, late H.M. Political Agent, and Consul at Zanzibar, that 19,000 slaves from this Nyassa country alone pass annually through the Custom-house of that island. This is exclusive of course of those sent to Portuguese slave-ports. Let it not be supposed for an instant that this number, 19,000, represents all the victims. Those taken out of the country are but a very small section of the sufferers. We never realized the atrocious nature of the traffic, until we saw it at the fountain-head. There truly "Satan has his seat." Besides those actually captured, thousands are killed and die of their wounds and famine, driven from their villages by the slave raid proper. Thousands perish in internecine war waged for slaves with their own clansmen and neighbours, slain by the lust of gain, which is stimulated, be it remembered always, by the slave purchasers of Cuba and elsewhere. The many skeletons we have seen, amongst rocks and woods, by the little pools, and along the paths of the wilderness, attest the awful sacrifice of human life, which must be attributed, directly or indirectly, to this trade of hell. We would ask our countrymen to believe us when we say, as we conscientiously can, that it is our deliberate opinion, from what we know and have seen, that not one-fifth of the victims of the slave-trade ever become slaves. Taking the Shire Valley as an average, we should say not even one-tenth arrive at their destination. As the system, therefore, involves such an awful waste of human life,--or shall we say of human labour?--and moreover tends directly to perpetuate the barbarism of those who remain in the country, the argument for the continuance of this wasteful course because, forsooth, a fraction of the enslaved may find good masters, seems of no great value. This reasoning, if not the result of ignorance, may be of maudlin philanthropy. A small armed steamer on Lake Nyassa could easily, by exercising a control, and furnishing goods in exchange for ivory and other products, break the neck of this infamous traffic in that quarter; for nearly all must cross the Lake or the Upper Shire. Our exploration of the Lake extended from the 2nd September to the 27th October, 1861; and, having expended or lost most of the goods we had brought, it was necessary to go back to the ship. When near the southern end, on our return, we were told that a very large slave-party had just crossed to the eastern side. We heard the fire of three guns in the evening, and judged by the report that they must be at least six-pounders. They were said to belong to an Ajawa chief named Mukata. In descending the Shire, we found concealed in the broad belt of papyrus round the lakelet Pamalombe, into which the river expands, a number of Manganja families who had been driven from their homes by the Ajawa raids. So thickly did the papyrus grow, that when beat down it supported their small temporary huts, though when they walked from one hut to another, it heaved and bent beneath their feet as thin ice does at home. A dense and impenetrable forest of the papyrus was left standing between them and the land, and no one passing by on the same side would ever have suspected that human beings lived there. They came to this spot from the south by means of their canoes, which enabled them to obtain a living from the fine fish which abound in the lakelet. They had a large quantity of excellent salt sewed up in bark, some of which we bought, our own having run out. We anchored for the night off their floating camp, and were visited by myriads of mosquitoes. Some of the natives show a love of country quite surprising. We saw fugitives on the mountains, in the north of the lake, who were persisting in clinging to the haunts of their boyhood and youth, in spite of starvation and the continual danger of being put to death by the Mazitu. A few miles below the lakelet is the last of the great slave-crossings. Since the Ajawa invasion the villages on the left bank had been abandoned, and the people, as we saw in our ascent, were living on the right or western bank. As we were resting for a few minutes opposite the valuable fishery at Movunguti, a young effeminate-looking man from some sea-coast tribe came in great state to have a look at us. He walked under a large umbrella, and was followed by five handsome damsels gaily dressed and adorned with a view to attract purchasers. One was carrying his pipe for smoking bang, here called "chamba;" another his bow and arrows; a third his battle-axe; a fourth one of his robes; while the last was ready to take his umbrella when he felt tired. This show of his merchandise was to excite the cupidity of any chief who had ivory, and may be called the lawful way of carrying on the slave-trade. What proportion it bears to the other ways in which we have seen this traffic pursued, we never found means of forming a judgment. He sat and looked at us for a few minutes, the young ladies kneeling behind him; and having satisfied himself that we were not likely to be customers, he departed. On our first trip we met, at the landing opposite this place, a middle- aged woman of considerable intelligence, and possessing more knowledge of the country than any of the men. Our first definite information about Lake Nyassa was obtained from her. Seeing us taking notes, she remarked that she had been to the sea, and had there seen white men writing. She had seen camels also, probably among the Arabs. She was the only Manganja woman we ever met who was ashamed of wearing the "pelele," or lip-ring. She retired to her hut, took it out, and kept her hand before her mouth to hide the hideous hole in the lip while conversing with us. All the villagers respected her, and even the headmen took a secondary place in her presence. On inquiring for her now, we found that she was dead. We never obtained sufficient materials to estimate the relative mortality of the highlands and lowlands; but, from many very old white- headed blacks having been seen on the highlands, we think it probable that even native races are longer lived the higher their dwelling-places are. We landed below at Mikena's and took observations for longitude, to verify those taken two years before. The village was deserted, Mikena and his people having fled to the other side of the river. A few had come across this morning to work in their old gardens. After completing the observations we had breakfast; and, as the last of the things were being carried into the boat, a Manganja man came running down to his canoe, crying out, "The Ajawa have just killed my comrade!" We shoved off, and in two minutes the advanced guard of a large marauding party were standing with their muskets on the spot where we had taken breakfast. They were evidently surprised at seeing us there, and halted; as did also the main body of perhaps a thousand men. "Kill them," cried the Manganja; "they are going up to the hills to kill the English," meaning the missionaries we had left at Magomero. But having no prospect of friendly communication with them, nor confidence in Manganja's testimony, we proceeded down the river; leaving the Ajawa sitting under a large baobab, and the Manganja cursing them most energetically across the river. On our way up, we had seen that the people of Zimika had taken refuge on a long island in the Shire, where they had placed stores of grain to prevent it falling into the hands of the Ajawa; supposing afterwards that the invasion and war were past, they had removed back again to the mainland on the east, and were living in fancied security. On approaching the chief's village, which was built in the midst of a beautiful grove of lofty wild-fig and palm trees, sounds of revelry fell upon our ears. The people were having a merry time--drumming, dancing, and drinking beer--while a powerful enemy was close at hand, bringing death or slavery to every one in the village. One of our men called out to several who came to the bank to look at us, that the Ajawa were coming and were even now at Mikena's village; but they were dazed with drinking, and took no notice of the warning. Crowds of carriers offered their services after we left the river. Several sets of them placed so much confidence in us, as to decline receiving payment at the end of the first day; they wished to work another day, and so receive both days' wages in one piece. The young headman of a new village himself came on with his men. The march was a pretty long one, and one of the men proposed to lay the burdens down beside a hut a mile or more from the next village. The headman scolded the fellow for his meanness in wishing to get rid of our goods where we could not procure carriers, and made him carry them on. The village, at the foot of the cataracts, had increased very much in size and wealth since we passed it on our way up. A number of large new huts had been built; and the people had a good stock of cloth and beads. We could not account for this sudden prosperity, until we saw some fine large canoes, instead of the two old, leaky things which lay there before. This had become a crossing-place for the slaves that the Portuguese agents were carrying to Tette, because they were afraid to take them across nearer to where the ship lay, about seven miles off. Nothing was more disheartening than this conduct of the Manganja, in profiting by the entire breaking up of their nation. We reached the ship on the 8th of November, 1861, in a very weak condition, having suffered more from hunger than on any previous trip. Heavy rains commenced on the 9th, and continued several days; the river rose rapidly, and became highly discoloured. Bishop Mackenzie came down to the ship on the 14th, with some of the "Pioneer's" men, who had been at Magomero for the benefit of their health, and also for the purpose of assisting the Mission. The Bishop appeared to be in excellent spirits, and thought that the future promised fair for peace and usefulness. The Ajawa having been defeated and driven off while we were on the Lake, had sent word that they desired to live at peace with the English. Many of the Manganja had settled round Magomero, in order to be under the protection of the Bishop; and it was hoped that the slave-trade would soon cease in the highlands, and the people be left in the secure enjoyment of their industry. The Mission, it was also anticipated, might soon become, to a considerable degree, self-supporting, and raise certain kinds of food, like the Portuguese of Senna and Quillimane. Mr. Burrup, an energetic young man, had arrived at Chibisa's the day before the Bishop, having come up the Shire in a canoe. A surgeon and a lay brother followed behind in another canoe. The "Pioneer's" draught being too much for the upper part of the Shire, it was not deemed advisable to bring her up, on the next trip, further than the Ruo; the Bishop, therefore, resolved to explore the country from Magomero to the mouth of that river, and to meet the ship with his sisters and Mrs. Burrup, in January. This was arranged before parting, and then the good Bishop and Burrup, whom we were never to meet again, left us; they gave and received three hearty English cheers as they went to the shore, and we steamed off. The rains ceased on the 14th, and the waters of the Shire fell, even more rapidly than they had risen. A shoal, twenty miles below Chibisa's, checked our further progress, and we lay there five weary weeks, till the permanent rise of the river took place. During this detention, with a large marsh on each side, the first death occurred in the Expedition which had now been three-and-a-half years in the country. The carpenter's mate, a fine healthy young man, was seized with fever. The usual remedies had no effect; he died suddenly while we were at evening prayers, and was buried on shore. He came out in the "Pioneer," and, with the exception of a slight touch of fever at the mouth of the Rovuma, had enjoyed perfect health all the time he had been with us. The Portuguese are of opinion that the European who has immunity from this disease for any length of time after he enters the country is more likely to be cut off by it when it does come, than the man who has it frequently at first. The rains became pretty general towards the close of December, and the Shire was in flood in the beginning of January, 1862. At our wooding- place, a mile above the Ruo, the water was three feet higher than it was when we were here in June; and on the night of the 6th it rose eighteen inches more, and swept down an immense amount of brushwood and logs which swarmed with beetles and the two kinds of shells which are common all over the African continent. Natives in canoes were busy spearing fish in the meadows and creeks, and appeared to be taking them in great numbers. Spur-winged geese, and others of the knob-nosed species, took advantage of the low gardens being flooded, and came to pilfer the beans. As we passed the Ruo, on the 7th, and saw nothing of the Bishop, we concluded that he had heard from his surgeon of our detention, and had deferred his journey. He arrived there five days after, on the 12th. After paying our Senna men, as they wished to go home, we landed them here. All were keen traders, and had invested largely in native iron- hoes, axes, and ornaments. Many of the hoes and spears had been taken from the slaving parties whose captives we liberated; for on these occasions our Senna friends were always uncommonly zealous and active. The remainder had been purchased with the old clothes we had given them and their store of hippopotamus meat: they had no fear of losing them, or of being punished for aiding us. The system, in which they had been trained, had eradicated the idea of personal responsibility from their minds. The Portuguese slaveholders would blame the English alone, they said; they were our servants at the time. No white man on board could purchase so cheaply as these men could. Many a time had their eloquence persuaded a native trader to sell for a bit of dirty worn cloth things for which he had, but a little before, refused twice the amount of clean new calico. "Scissors" being troubled with a cough at night, received a present of a quilted coverlet, which had seen a good deal of service. A few days afterwards, a good chance of investing in hoes offering itself, he ripped off both sides, tore them into a dozen pieces, and purchased about a dozen hoes with them. We entered the Zambesi on the 11th of January, and steamed down towards the coast, taking the side on which we had come up; but the channel had changed to the other side during the summer, as it sometimes does, and we soon grounded. A Portuguese gentleman, formerly a lieutenant in the army, and now living on Sangwisa, one of the islands of the Zambesi, came over with his slaves, to aid us in getting the ship off. He said frankly, that his people were all great thieves, and we must be on our guard not to leave anything about. He next made a short speech to his men, told them he knew what thieves they were, but implored them not to steal from us, as we would give them a present of cloth when the work was done. "The natives of this country," he remarked to us, "think only of three things, what they shall eat and drink, how many wives they can have, and what they may steal from their master, if not how they may murder him." He always slept with a loaded musket by his side. This opinion may apply to slaves, but decidedly does not in our experience apply to freemen. We paid his men for helping us, and believe that even they, being paid, stole nothing from us. Our friend farms pretty extensively the large island called Sangwisa,--lent him for nothing by Senhor Ferrao,--and raises large quantities of mapira and beans, and also beautiful white rice, grown from seed brought a few years ago from South Carolina. He furnished us with some, which was very acceptable; for though not in absolute want, we were living on beans, salt pork, and fowls, all the biscuit and flour on board having been expended. We fully expected that the owners of the captives we had liberated would show their displeasure, at least by their tongues; but they seemed ashamed; only one ventured a remark, and he, in the course of common conversation, said, with a smile, "You took the Governor's slaves, didn't you?" "Yes, we did free several gangs that we met in the Manganja country." The Portuguese of Tette, from the Governor downwards, were extensively engaged in slaving. The trade is partly internal and partly external: they send some of the captives, and those bought, into the interior, up the Zambesi: some of these we actually met on their way up the river. The young women were sold there for ivory: an ordinary-looking one brought two arrobas, sixty-four pounds weight, and an extra beauty brought twice that amount. The men and boys were kept as carriers, to take the ivory down from the interior to Tette, or were retained on farms on the Zambesi, ready for export if a slaver should call: of this last mode of slaving we were witnesses also. The slaves were sent down the river chained, and in large canoes. This went on openly at Tette, and more especially so while the French "Free Emigration" system was in full operation. This double mode of disposing of the captives pays better than the single system of sending them down to the coast for exportation. One merchant at Tette, with whom we were well acquainted, sent into the interior three hundred Manganja women to be sold for ivory, and another sent a hundred and fifty. CHAPTER XI. Arrival of H.M.S. "Gorgon"--Dr. Livingstone's new steamer and Mrs. Livingstone--Death of Mrs. Livingstone--Voyage to Johanna and the Rovuma--An attack upon the "Pioneer's" boats. We anchored on the Great Luabo mouth of the Zambesi, because wood was much more easily obtained there than at the Kongone. On the 30th, H.M.S. "Gorgon" arrived, towing the brig which brought Mrs. Livingstone, some ladies about to join their relatives in the Universities' Mission, and the twenty-four sections of a new iron steamer intended for the navigation of Lake Nyassa. The "Pioneer" steamed out, and towed the brig into the Kongone harbour. The new steamer was called the "Lady of the Lake," or the "Lady Nyassa," and as much as could be carried of her in one trip was placed, by the help of the officers and men of the "Gorgon," on board the "Pioneer," and the two large paddle-box boats of H.M.'s ship. We steamed off for Ruo on the 10th of February, having on board Captain Wilson, with a number of his officers and men to help us to discharge the cargo. Our progress up was distressingly slow. The river was in flood, and we had a three-knot current against us in many places. These delays kept us six months in the delta, instead of, as we anticipated, only six days; for, finding it impossible to carry the sections up to the Ruo without great loss of time, it was thought best to land them at Shupanga, and, putting the hull of the "Lady Nyassa" together there, to tow her up to the foot of the Murchison Cataracts. A few days before the "Pioneer" reached Shupanga, Captain Wilson, seeing the hopeless state of affairs, generously resolved to hasten with the Mission ladies up to those who, we thought, were anxiously awaiting their arrival, and therefore started in his gig for the Ruo, taking Miss Mackenzie, Mrs. Burrup, and his surgeon, Dr. Ramsay. They were accompanied by Dr. Kirk and Mr. Sewell, paymaster of the "Gorgon," in the whale-boat of the "Lady Nyassa." As our slow-paced-launch, "Ma Robert," had formerly gone up to the foot of the cataracts in nine days' steaming, it was supposed that the boats might easily reach the expected meeting- place at the Ruo in a week; but the Shire was now in flood, and in its most rapid state; and they were longer in getting up about half the distance, than it was hoped they would be in the whole navigable part of the river. They could hear nothing of the Bishop from the chief of the island, Malo, at the mouth of the Ruo. "No white man had ever come to his village," he said. They proceeded on to Chibisa's, suffering terribly from mosquitoes at night. Their toil in stemming the rapid current made them estimate the distance, by the windings, as nearer 300 than 200 miles. The Makololo who had remained at Chibisa's told them the sad news of the death of the good Bishop and of Mr. Burrup. Other information received there awakened fresh anxiety on behalf of the survivors; so, leaving the ladies with Dr. Ramsay and the Makololo, Captain Wilson and Dr. Kirk went up the hills, in hopes of being able to render assistance, and on the way they met some of the Mission party at Soche's. The excessive fatigue that our friends had undergone in the voyage up to Chibisa's in no wise deterred them from this further attempt for the benefit of their countrymen, but the fresh labour, with diminished rations, was too much for their strength. They were reduced to a diet of native beans and an occasional fowl. Both became very ill of fever, Captain Wilson so dangerously that his fellow-sufferer lost all hopes of his recovery. His strong able-bodied cockswain did good service in cheerfully carrying his much-loved Commander, and they managed to return to the boat, and brought the two bereaved and sorrow-stricken ladies back to the "Pioneer." We learnt that the Bishop, wishing to find a shorter route down to the Shire, had sent two men to explore the country between Magomero and the junction of the Ruo; and in December Messrs. Proctor and Scudamore, with a number of Manganja carriers, left Magomero for the same purpose. They were to go close to Mount Choro, and then skirt the Elephant Marsh, with Mount Clarendon on their left. Their guides seem to have led them away to the east, instead of south; to the upper waters of the Ruo in the Shirwa valley, instead of to its mouth. Entering an Anguru slave-trading village, they soon began to suspect that the people meant mischief, and just before sunset a woman told some of their men that if they slept there they would all be killed. On their preparing to leave, the Anguru followed them and shot their arrows at the retreating party. Two of the carriers were captured, and all the goods were taken by these robbers. An arrow-head struck deep into the stock of Proctor's gun; and the two missionaries, barely escaping with their lives, swam a deep river at night, and returned to Magomero famished and exhausted. The wives of the captive carriers came to the Bishop day after day weeping and imploring him to rescue their husbands from slavery. The men had been caught while in his service, no one else could be entreated; there was no public law nor any power superior to his own, to which an appeal could be made; for in him Church and State were, in the disorganized state of the country, virtually united. It seemed to him to be clearly his duty to try and rescue these kidnapped members of the Mission family. He accordingly invited the veteran Makololo to go with him on this somewhat hazardous errand. Nothing could have been proposed to them which they would have liked better, and they went with alacrity to eat the sheep of the Anguru, only regretting that the enemy did not keep cattle as well. Had the matter been left entirely in their hands, they would have made a clean sweep of that part of the country; but the Bishop restrained them, and went in an open manner, thus commending the measure to all the natives, as one of justice. This deliberation, however, gave the delinquents a chance of escape. The missionaries were successful; the offending village was burned, and a few sheep and goats were secured which could not be considered other than a very mild punishment for the offence committed; the headman, Muana-somba, afraid to retain the prisoners any longer, forthwith liberated them, and they returned to their homes. This incident took place at the time we were at the Ruo and during the rains, and proved very trying to the health of the missionaries; they were frequently wetted, and had hardly any food but roasted maize. Mr. Scudamore was never well afterwards. Directly on their return to Magomero, the Bishop and Mr. Burrup, both suffering from diarrhoea in consequence of wet, hunger, and exposure, started for Chibisa's to go down to the Ruo by the Shire. So fully did the Bishop expect a renewal of the soaking wet from which he had just returned, that on leaving Magomero he walked through the stream. The rivulets were so swollen that it took five days to do a journey that would otherwise have occupied only two days and a half. None of the Manganja being willing to take them down the river during the flood, three Makololo canoe-men agreed to go with them. After paddling till near sunset, they decided to stop and sleep on shore; but the mosquitoes were so numerous that they insisted on going on again; the Bishop, being a week behind the time he had engaged to be at the Ruo, reluctantly consented, and in the darkness the canoe was upset in one of the strong eddies or whirlpools, which suddenly boil up in flood time near the outgoing branches of the river; clothing, medicines, tea, coffee, and sugar were all lost. Wet and weary, and tormented by mosquitoes, they lay in the canoe till morning dawned, and then proceeded to Malo, an island at the mouth of the Ruo, where the Bishop was at once seized with fever. Had they been in their usual health, they would doubtless have pushed on to Shupanga, or to the ship; but fever rapidly prostrates the energies, and induces a drowsy stupor, from which, if not roused by medicine, the patient gradually sinks into the sleep of death. Still mindful, however, of his office, the Bishop consoled himself by thinking that he might gain the friendship of the chief, which would be of essential service to him in his future labours. That heartless man, however, probably suspicious of all foreigners from the knowledge he had acquired of white slave-traders, wanted to turn the dying Bishop out of the hut, as he required it for his corn, but yielded to the expostulations of the Makololo. Day after day for three weeks did these faithful fellows remain beside his mat on the floor; till, without medicine or even proper food, he died. They dug his grave on the edge of the deep dark forest where the natives buried their dead. Mr. Burrup, himself far gone with dysentery, staggered from the hut, and, as in the dusk of evening they committed the Bishop's body to the grave, repeated from memory portions of our beautiful service for the Burial of the Dead--"earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the resurrection of the dead through our Lord Jesus Christ." And in this sad way ended the earthly career of one, of whom it can safely be said that for unselfish goodness of heart, and earnest devotion to the noble work he had undertaken, none of the commendations of his friends can exceed the reality. The grave in which his body rests is about a hundred yards from the confluence of the Ruo, on the left bank of the Shire, and opposite the island of Malo. The Makololo then took Mr. Burrup up in the canoe as far as they could, and, making a litter of branches, carried him themselves, or got others to carry him, all the way back to his countrymen at Magomero. They hurried him on lest he should die in their hands, and blame be attached to them. Soon after his return he expired, from the disease which was on him when he started to meet his wife. Captain Wilson arrived at Shupanga on the 11th of March, having been three weeks on the Shire. On the 15th the "Pioneer" steamed down to the Kongone. The "Gorgon" had been driven out to sea in a gale, and had gone to Johanna for provisions, and it was the 2nd of April before she returned. It was fortunate for us that she had obtained a supply, as our provisions were exhausted, and we had to buy some from the master of the brig. The "Gorgon" left for the Cape on the 4th, taking all, except one, of the Mission party who had come in January. We take this opportunity of expressing our heartfelt gratitude to the gallant Captain I. C. Wilson and his officers for innumerable acts of kindness and hearty co-operation. Our warmest thanks are also due to Captain R. B. Oldfield and the other officers from the Admiral downwards, and we beg to assure them that nothing could be more encouraging to us in our difficulties and trials, than the knowledge that we possessed their friendship and sympathy in our labours. The Rev. James Stewart, of the Free Church of Scotland, arrived in the "Gorgon." He had wisely come out to inspect the country, before deciding on the formation of a Mission in the interior. To this object he devoted many months of earnest labour. This Mission was intended to embrace both the industrial and the religious element; and as the route by the Zambesi and Shire forms the only one at present known, with but a couple of days' land journey to the highlands, which stretch to an unknown distance into the continent, and as no jealousy was likely to be excited in the mind of a man of Bishop Mackenzie's enlarged views--there being moreover room for hundreds of Missions--we gladly extended the little aid in our power to an envoy from the energetic body above mentioned, but recommended him to examine the field with his own eyes. During our subsequent detention at Shupanga, he proceeded as far up the Shire as the Upper Cataracts, and saw the mere remnants of that dense population, which we at first had found living in peace and plenty, but which was now scattered and destroyed by famine and slave-hunting. The land, which both before and after we found so fair and fruitful, was burned up by a severe drought; in fact, it was at its very worst. With most praiseworthy energy, and in spite of occasional attacks of fever, he then ascended the Zambesi as far as Kebrabasa; and, what may be of interest to some, compared it, in parts, to the Danube. His estimate of the highlands would naturally be lower than ours. The main drawbacks in his opinion, however, were the slave-trade, and the power allowed the effete Portuguese of shutting up the country from all except a few convicts of their own nation. The time of his coming was inopportune; the disasters which, from inexperience, had befallen the Mission of the Universities, had a depressing effect on the minds of many at home, and rendered a new attempt unadvisable; though, had the Scotch perseverance and energy been introduced, it is highly probable that they would have reacted, most beneficially, on the zeal of our English brethren, and desertion would never have been heard of. After examining the country, Mr. Stewart descended the Zambesi in the beginning of the following year, and proceeded homewards with his report, by Mosambique and the Cape. On the 7th of April we had only one man fit for duty; all the rest were down with fever, or with the vile spirit secretly sold to them by the Portuguese officer of customs, in spite of our earnest request to him to refrain from the pernicious traffic. We started on the 11th for Shupanga with another load of the "Lady Nyassa." As we steamed up the delta, we observed many of the natives wearing strips of palm-leaf, the signs of sickness and mourning; for they too suffer from fever. This is the unhealthy season; the rains are over, and the hot sun draws up malaria from the decayed vegetation; disease seemed peculiarly severe this year. On our way up we met Mr. Waller, who had come from Magomero for provisions; the missionaries were suffering severely from want of food; the liberated people were starving, and dying of diarrhoea, and loathsome sores. The Ajawa, stimulated in their slave raids by supplies of ammunition and cloth from the Portuguese, had destroyed the large crops of the past year; a drought had followed, and little or no food could be bought. With his usual energy, Mr. Waller hired canoes, loaded them with stores, and took them up the long weary way to Chibisa's. Before he arrived he was informed that the Mission of the Universities, now deprived of its brave leader, had retired from the highlands down to the Low Shire Valley. This appeared to us, who knew the danger of leading a sedentary life, the greatest mistake they could have made, and was the result of no other counsel or responsibility than their own. Waller would have reascended at once to the higher altitude, but various objections stood in the way. The loss of poor Scudamore and Dickinson, in this low-lying situation, but added to the regret that the highlands had not received a fair trial. When the news of the Bishop's unfortunate collisions with the natives, and of his untimely end, reached England, much blame was imputed to him. The policy, which with the formal sanction of all his companions he had adopted, being directly contrary to the advice which Dr. Livingstone tendered, and to the assurances of the peaceable nature of the Mission which the Doctor had given to the natives, a friendly disapproval of a bishop's engaging in war was ventured on, when we met him at Chibisa's in November. But when we found his conduct regarded with so much bitterness in England, whether from a disposition to "stand by the down man," or from having an intimate knowledge of the peculiar circumstances of the country in which he was placed, or from the thorough confidence which intimacy caused us to repose in his genuine piety, and devout service of God, we came to think much more leniently of his proceedings, than his assailants did. He never seemed to doubt but that he had done his duty; and throughout he had always been supported by his associates. The question whether a Bishop, in the event of his flock being torn from his bosom, may make war to rescue them, requires serious consideration. It seems to narrow itself into whether a Christian man may lawfully use the civil power or the sword at all in defensive war, as police or otherwise. We would do almost anything to avoid a collision with degraded natives; but in case of an invasion--our blood boils at the very thought of our wives, daughters, or sisters being touched--we, as men with human feelings, would unhesitatingly fight to the death, with all the fury in our power. The good Bishop was as intensely averse to using arms, before he met the slave-hunters, as any man in England. In the course he pursued he may have made a mistake, but it is a mistake which very few Englishmen on meeting bands of helpless captives, or members of his family in bonds, would have failed to commit likewise. During unhealthy April, the fever was more severe in Shupanga and Mazaro than usual. We had several cases on board--they were quickly cured, but, from our being in the delta, as quickly returned. About the middle of the month Mrs. Livingstone was prostrated by this disease; and it was accompanied by obstinate vomiting. Nothing is yet known that can allay this distressing symptom, which of course renders medicine of no avail, as it is instantly rejected. She received whatever medical aid could be rendered from Dr. Kirk, but became unconscious, and her eyes were closed in the sleep of death as the sunset on the evening of the Christian Sabbath, the 27th April, 1862. A coffin was made during the night, a grave was dug next day under the branches of the great baobab-tree, and with sympathizing hearts the little band of his countrymen assisted the bereaved husband in burying his dead. At his request, the Rev. James Stewart read the burial-service; and the seamen kindly volunteered to mount guard for some nights at the spot where her body rests in hope. Those who are not aware how this brave, good, English wife made a delightful home at Kolobeng, a thousand miles inland from the Cape, and as the daughter of Moffat and a Christian lady exercised most beneficial influence over the rude tribes of the interior, may wonder that she should have braved the dangers and toils of this down-trodden land. She knew them all, and, in the disinterested and dutiful attempt to renew her labours, was called to her rest instead. "_Fiat, Domine, voluntas tua_!" On the 5th of May Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone started in the boat for Tette, in order to see the property of the Expedition brought down in canoes. They took four Mazaro canoe-men to manage the boat, and a white sailor to cook for them; but, unfortunately, he caught fever the very day after leaving the ship, and was ill most of the trip; so they had to cook for themselves, and to take care of him besides. We now proceeded with preparations for the launch of the "Lady Nyassa." Ground was levelled on the bank at Shupanga, for the purpose of arranging the compartments in order: she was placed on palm-trees which were brought from a place lower down the river for ways, and the engineer and his assistants were soon busily engaged; about a fortnight after they were all brought from Kongone, the sections were screwed together. The blacks are more addicted to stealing where slavery exists than elsewhere. We were annoyed by thieves who carried off the iron screw-bolts, but were gratified to find that strychnine saved us from the man-thief as well as the hyena-thief. A hyena was killed by it, and after the natives saw the dead animal and knew how we had destroyed it, they concluded that it was not safe to steal from men who possessed a medicine so powerful. The half-caste, who kept Shupanga-house, said he wished to have some to give to the Zulus, of whom he was mortally afraid, and to whom he had to pay an unwilling tribute. The "Pioneer" made several trips to the Kongone, and returned with the last load on the 12th of June. On the 23rd the "Lady Nyassa" was safely launched, the work of putting her together having been interrupted by fever and dysentery, and many other causes which it would only weary the reader to narrate in detail. Natives from all parts of the country came to see the launch, most of them quite certain that, being made of iron, she must go to the bottom as soon as she entered the water. Earnest discussions had taken place among them with regard to the propriety of using iron for ship-building. The majority affirmed that it would never answer. They said, "If we put a hoe into the water, or the smallest bit of iron, it sinks immediately. How then can such a mass of iron float? it must go to the bottom." The minority answered that this might be true with them, but white men had medicine for everything. "They could even make a woman, all except the speaking; look at that one on the figure- head of the vessel." The unbelievers were astonished, and could hardly believe their eyes, when they saw the ship float lightly and gracefully on the river, instead of going to the bottom, as they so confidently predicted. "Truly," they said, "these men have powerful medicine." Birds are numerous on the Shupanga estate. Some kinds remain all the year round, while many others are there only for a few months. Flocks of green pigeons come in April to feed on the young fruit of the wild fig- trees, which is also eaten by a large species of bat in the evenings. The pretty little black weaver, with yellow shoulders, appears to enjoy life intensely after assuming his wooing dress. A hearty breakfast is eaten in the mornings and then come the hours for making merry. A select party of three or four perch on the bushes which skirt a small grassy plain, and cheer themselves with the music of their own quiet and self-complacent song. A playful performance on the wind succeeds. Expanding his soft velvet-like plumage, one glides with quivering pinions to the centre of the open space, singing as he flies, then turns with a rapid whirring sound from his wings--somewhat like a child's rattle--and returns to his place again. One by one the others perform the same feat, and continue the sport for hours, striving which can produce the loudest brattle while turning. These games are only played during the season of courting and of the gay feathers; the merriment seems never to be thought of while the bird wears his winter suit of sober brown. We received two mules from the Cape to aid us in transporting the pieces of the "Lady Nyassa" past the cataracts and landed them at Shupanga, but they soon perished. A Portuguese gentleman kindly informed us, _after_ both the mules were dead, that he knew they would die; for the land there had been often tried, and nothing would live on it--not even a pig. He said he had not told us so before, because he did not like to appear officious! By the time everything had been placed on board the "Lady Nyassa," the waters of the Zambesi and the Shire had fallen so low that it was useless to attempt taking her up to the cataracts before the rains in December. Draught oxen and provisions also were required, and could not be obtained nearer than the Island of Johanna. The Portuguese, without refusing positively to let trade enter the Zambesi, threw impediments in the way; they only wanted a small duty! They were about to establish a river police, and rearrange the Crown lands, which have long since become Zulu lands; meanwhile they were making the Zambesi, by slaving, of no value to any one. The Rovuma, which was reported to come from Lake Nyassa, being out of their claims and a free river, we determined to explore it in our boats immediately on our return from Johanna, for which place, after some delay at the Kongone, in repairing engines, paddle-wheel, and rudder, we sailed on the 6th of August. A store of naval provisions had been formed on a hulk in Pomone Bay of that island for the supply of the cruisers, and was in charge of Mr. Sunley, the Consul, from whom we always received the kindest attentions and assistance. He now obliged us by parting with six oxen, trained for his own use in sugar-making. Though sadly hampered in his undertaking by being obliged to employ slave labour, he has by indomitable energy overcome obstacles under which most persons would have sunk. He has done all that under the circumstances could be done to infuse a desire for freedom, by paying regular wages; and has established a large factory, and brought 300 acres of rich soil under cultivation with sugar-cane. We trust he will realize the fortune which he so well deserves to earn. Had Mr. Sunley performed the same experiment on the mainland, where people would have flocked to him for the wages he now gives, he would certainly have inaugurated a new era on the East Coast of Africa. On a small island where the slaveholders have complete power over the slaves, and where there is no free soil such as is everywhere met with in Africa, the experiment ought not to be repeated. Were Mr. Sunley commencing again, it should neither be in Zanzibar nor Johanna, but on African soil, where, if even a slave is ill-treated, he can easily by flight become free. On an island under native rule a joint manufacture by Arabs and Englishmen might only mean that the latter were to escape the odium of flogging the slaves. On leaving Johanna and our oxen for a time, H.M.S. "Orestes" towed us thence to the mouth of the Rovuma at the beginning of September. Captain Gardner, her commander, and several of his officers, accompanied us up the river for two days in the gig and cutter. The water was unusually low, and it was rather dull work for a few hours in the morning; but the scene became livelier and more animated when the breeze began to blow. Our four boats they swept on under full sail, the men on the look out in the gig and cutter calling, "Port, sir!" "Starboard, sir!" "As you go, sir!" while the black men in the bows of the others shouted the practical equivalents, "Pagombe! Pagombe!" "Enda quete!" "Berane! Berane!" Presently the leading-boat touches on a sandbank; down comes the fluttering sail; the men jump out to shove her off, and the other boats, shunning the obstruction, shoot on ahead to be brought up each in its turn by mistaking a sandbank for the channel, which had often but a very little depth of water. A drowsy herd of hippopotami were suddenly startled by a score of rifle- shots, and stared in amazement at the strange objects which had invaded their peaceful domains, until a few more bullets compelled them to seek refuge at the bottom of the deep pool, near which they had been quietly reposing. On our return, one of the herd retaliated. He followed the boat, came up under it, and twice tried to tear the bottom out of it; but fortunately it was too flat for his jaws to get a good grip, so he merely damaged one of the planks with his tusks, though he lifted the boat right up, with ten men and a ton of ebony in it. We slept, one of the two nights Captain Gardner was with us, opposite the lakelet Chidia, which is connected with the river in flood time, and is nearly surrounded by hills some 500 or 600 feet high, dotted over with trees. A few small groups of huts stood on the hill-sides, with gardens off which the usual native produce had been reaped. The people did not seem much alarmed by the presence of the large party which had drawn up on the sandbanks below their dwellings. There is abundance of large ebony in the neighbourhood. The pretty little antelope (_Cephalophus caeruleus_), about the size of a hare, seemed to abound, as many of their skins were offered for sale. Neat figured date-leaf mats of various colours are woven here, the different dyes being obtained from the barks of trees. Cattle could not live on the banks of the Rovuma on account of the tsetse, which are found from near the mouth, up as far as we could take the boats. The navigation did not improve as we ascended; snags, brought down by the floods, were common, and left in the channel on the sudden subsidence of the water. In many places, where the river divided into two or three channels, there was not water enough in any of them for a boat drawing three feet, so we had to drag ours over the shoals; but we saw the river at its very lowest, and it may be years before it is so dried up again. The valley of the Rovuma, bounded on each side by a range of highlands, is from two to four miles in width, and comes in a pretty straight course from the W.S.W.; but the channel of the river is winding, and now at its lowest zigzagged so perversely, that frequently the boats had to pass over three miles to make one in a straight line. With a full stream it must of course be much easier work. Few natives were seen during the first week. Their villages are concealed in the thick jungle on the hill- sides, for protection from marauding slave-parties. Not much of interest was observed on this part of the silent and shallow river. Though feeling convinced that it was unfit for navigation, except for eight months of the year, we pushed on, resolved to see if, further inland, the accounts we had received from different naval officers of its great capabilities would prove correct; or if, by communication with Lake Nyassa, even the upper part could be turned to account. Our exploration showed us that the greatest precaution is required in those who visit new countries. The reports we received from gentlemen, who had entered the river and were well qualified to judge, were that the Rovuma was infinitely superior to the Zambesi, in the absence of any bar at its mouth, in its greater volume of water, and in the beauty of the adjacent lands. We probably came at a different season from that in which they visited it, and our account ought to be taken with theirs to arrive at the truth. It might be available as a highway for commerce during three quarters of each year; but casual visitors, like ourselves and others, are all ill able to decide. The absence of animal life was remarkable. Occasionally we saw pairs of the stately jabirus, or adjutant-looking marabouts, wading among the shoals, and spur-winged geese, and other water-fowl, but there was scarcely a crocodile or a hippopotamus to be seen. At the end of the first week, an old man called at our camp, and said he would send a present from his village, which was up among the hills. He appeared next morning with a number of his people, bringing meal, cassava- root, and yams. The language differs considerably from that on the Zambesi, but it is of the same family. The people are Makonde, and are on friendly terms with the Mabiha, and the Makoa, who live south of the Rovuma. When taking a walk up the slopes of the north bank, we found a great variety of trees we had seen nowhere else. Those usually met with far inland seem here to approach the coast. African ebony, generally named _mpingu_, is abundant within eight miles of the sea; it attains a larger size, and has more of the interior black wood than usual. A good timber tree called _mosoko_ is also found; and we saw half-caste Arabs near the coast cutting up a large log of it into planks. Before reaching the top of the rise we were in a forest of bamboos. On the plateau above, large patches were cleared and cultivated. A man invited us to take a cup of beer; on our complying with his request, the fear previously shown by the bystanders vanished. Our Mazaro men could hardly understand what they said. Some of them waded in the river and caught a curious fish in holes in the claybank. Its ventral fin is peculiar, being unusually large, and of a circular shape, like boys' playthings called "suckers." We were told that this fish is found also in the Zambesi, and is called Chirire. Though all its fins are large, it is asserted that it rarely ventures out into the stream, but remains near its hole, where it is readily caught by the hand. The Zambesi men thoroughly understood the characteristic marks of deep or shallow water, and showed great skill in finding out the proper channel. The Molimo is the steersman at the helm, the Mokadamo is the head canoe- man, and he stands erect on the bows with a long pole in his hands, and directs the steersman where to go, aiding the rudder, if necessary, with his pole. The others preferred to stand and punt our boat, rather than row with our long oars, being able to shove her ahead faster than they could pull her. They are accustomed to short paddles. Our Mokadamo was affected with moon-blindness, and could not see at all at night. His comrades then led him about, and handed him his food. They thought that it was only because his eyes rested all night, that he could see the channel so well by day. At difficult places the Mokadamo sometimes, however, made mistakes, and ran us aground; and the others, evidently imbued with the spirit of resistance to constituted authority, and led by Joao an aspirant for the office, jeered him for his stupidity. "Was he asleep? Why did he allow the boat to come there? Could he not see the channel was somewhere else?" At last the Mokadamo threw down the pole in disgust, and told Joao he might be a Mokadamo himself. The office was accepted with alacrity; but in a few minutes he too ran us into a worse difficulty than his predecessor ever did, and was at once disrated amidst the derision of his comrades. On the 16th September, we arrived at the inhabited island of Kichokomane. The usual way of approaching an unknown people is to call out in a cheerful tone "Malonda!" Things for sale, or do you want to sell anything? If we can obtain a man from the last village, he is employed, though only useful in explaining to the next that we come in a friendly way. The people here were shy of us at first, and could not be induced to sell any food; until a woman, more adventurous than the rest, sold us a fowl. This opened the market, and crowds came with fowls and meal, far beyond our wants. The women are as ugly as those on Lake Nyassa, for who can be handsome wearing the pelele, or upper-lip ring, of large dimensions? We were once surprised to see young men wearing the pelele, and were told that in the tribe of the Mabiha, on the south bank, men as well as women wore them. Along the left bank, above Kichokomane, is an exceedingly fertile plain, nearly two miles broad, and studded with a number of deserted villages. The inhabitants were living in temporary huts on low naked sandbanks; and we found this to be the case as far as we went. They leave most of their property and food behind, because they are not afraid of these being stolen, but only fear being stolen themselves. The great slave-route from Nyassa to Kilwa passes to N.E. from S.W., just beyond them; and it is dangerous to remain in their villages at this time of year, when the kidnappers are abroad. In one of the temporary villages, we saw, in passing, two human heads lying on the ground. We slept a couple of miles above this village. Before sunrise next morning, a large party armed with bows and arrows and muskets came to the camp, two or three of them having a fowl each, which we refused to purchase, having bought enough the day before. They followed us all the morning, and after breakfast those on the left bank swam across and joined the main party on the other side. It was evidently their intention to attack us at a chosen spot, where we had to pass close to a high bank, but their plan was frustrated by a stiff breeze sweeping the boat past, before the majority could get to the place. They disappeared then, but came out again ahead of us, on a high wooded bank, walking rapidly to the bend, near which we were obliged to sail. An arrow was shot at the foremost boat; and seeing the force at the bend, we pushed out from the side, as far as the shoal water would permit, and tried to bring them to a parley, by declaring that we had not come to fight, but to see the river. "Why did you fire a gun, a little while ago?" they asked. "We shot a large puff-adder, to prevent it from killing men; you may see it lying dead on the beach." With great courage, our Mokadamo waded to within thirty yards of the bank, and spoke with much earnestness, assuring them that we were a peaceable party, and had not come for war, but to see the river. We were friends, and our countrymen bought cotton and ivory, and wished to come and trade with them. All we wanted was to go up quietly to look at the river, and then return to the sea. While he was talking with those on the shore, the old rogue, who appeared to be the ringleader, stole up the bank, and with a dozen others, waded across to the island, near which the boats lay, and came down behind us. Wild with excitement, they rushed into the water, and danced in our rear, with drawn bows, taking aim, and making various savage gesticulations. Their leader urged them to get behind some snags, and then shoot at us. The party on the bank in front had many muskets--and those of them, who had bows, held them with arrows ready set in the bowstrings. They had a mass of thick bush and trees behind them, into which they could in a moment dart, after discharging their muskets and arrows, and be completely hidden from our sight; a circumstance that always gives people who use bows and arrows the greatest confidence. Notwithstanding these demonstrations, we were exceedingly loath to come to blows. We spent a full half-hour exposed at any moment to be struck by a bullet or poisoned arrow. We explained that we were better armed than they were, and had plenty of ammunition, the suspected want of which often inspires them with courage, but that we did not wish to shed the blood of the children of the same Great Father with ourselves; that if we must fight, the guilt would be all theirs. This being a common mode of expostulation among themselves, we so far succeeded, that with great persuasion the leader and others laid down their arms, and waded over from the bank to the boats to talk the matter over. "This was their river; they did not allow white men to use it. We must pay toll for leave to pass." It was somewhat humiliating to do so, but it was pay or fight; and, rather than fight, we submitted to the humiliation of paying for their friendship, and gave them thirty yards of cloth. They pledged themselves to be our friends ever afterwards, and said they would have food cooked for us on our return. We then hoisted sail, and proceeded, glad that the affair had been amicably settled. Those on shore walked up to the bend above to look at the boat, as we supposed; but the moment she was abreast of them, they gave us a volley of musket-balls and poisoned arrows, without a word of warning. Fortunately we were so near, that all the arrows passed clear over us, but four musket-balls went through the sail just above our heads. All our assailants bolted into the bushes and long grass the instant after firing, save two, one of whom was about to discharge a musket and the other an arrow, when arrested by the fire of the second boat. Not one of them showed their faces again, till we were a thousand yards away. A few shots were then fired over their heads, to give them an idea of the range of our rifles, and they all fled into the woods. Those on the sandbank rushed off too, with the utmost speed; but as they had not shot at us, we did not molest them, and they went off safely with their cloth. They probably expected to kill one of our number, and in the confusion rob the boats. It is only where the people are slavers that the natives of this part of Africa are bloodthirsty. These people have a bad name in the country in front, even among their own tribe. A slave-trading Arab we met above, thinking we were then on our way down the river, advised us not to land at the villages, but to stay in the boats, as the inhabitants were treacherous, and attacked at once, without any warning or provocation. Our experience of their conduct fully confirmed the truth of what he said. There was no trade on the river where they lived, but beyond that part there was a brisk canoe- trade in rice and salt; those further in the interior cultivating rice, and sending it down the river to be exchanged for salt, which is extracted from the earth in certain places on the banks. Our assailants hardly anticipated resistance, and told a neighbouring chief that, if they had known who we were, they would not have attacked English, who can "bite hard." They offered no molestations on our way down, though we were an hour in passing their village. Our canoe-men plucked up courage on finding that we had come off unhurt. One of them, named Chiku, acknowledging that he had been terribly frightened, said. "His fear was not the kind which makes a man jump overboard and run away; but that which brings the heart up to the mouth, and renders the man powerless, and no more able to fight than a woman." In the country of Chonga Michi, about 80 or 90 miles up the river, we found decent people, though of the same tribe, who treated strangers with civility. A body of Makoa had come from their own country in the south, and settled here. The Makoa are known by a cicatrice in the forehead shaped like the new moon with the horns turned downwards. The tribe possesses all the country west of Mosambique; and they will not allow any of the Portuguese to pass into their country more than two hours' distance from the fort. A hill some ten or twelve miles distant, called Pau, has been visited during the present generation only by one Portuguese and one English officer, and this visit was accomplished only by the influence of the private friendship of a chief for this Portuguese gentleman. Our allies have occupied the Fort of Mosambique for three hundred years, but in this, as in all other cases, have no power further than they can see from a gun-carriage. The Makoa chief, Matingula, was hospitable and communicative, telling us all he knew of the river and country beyond. He had been once to Iboe and once at Mosambique with slaves. Our men understood his language easily. A useless musket he had bought at one of the above places was offered us for a little cloth. Having received a present of food from him, a railway rug was handed to him: he looked at it--had never seen cloth like that before--did not approve of it, and would rather have cotton cloth. "But this will keep you warm at night."--"Oh, I do not wish to be kept warm at night."--We gave him a bit of cotton cloth, not one-third the value of the rug, but it was more highly prized. His people refused to sell their fowls for our splendid prints and drab cloths. They had probably been taken in with gaudy-patterned sham prints before. They preferred a very cheap, plain, blue stuff of which they had experience. A great quantity of excellent honey is collected all along the river, by bark hives being placed for the bees on the high trees on both banks. Large pots of it, very good and clear, were offered in exchange for a very little cloth. No wax was brought for sale; there being no market for this commodity, it is probably thrown away as useless. At Michi we lose the tableland which, up to this point, bounds the view on both sides of the river, as it were, with ranges of flat-topped hills, 600 or 800 feet high; and to this plateau a level fertile plain succeeds, on which stand detached granite hills. That portion of the tableland on the right bank seems to bend away to the south, still preserving the appearance of a hill range. The height opposite extends a few miles further west, and then branches off in a northerly direction. A few small pieces of coal were picked up on the sandbanks, showing that this useful mineral exists on the Rovuma, or on some of its tributaries: the natives know that it will burn. At the lakelet Chidia, we noticed the same sandstone rock, with fossil wood on it, which we have on the Zambesi, and knew to be a sure evidence of coal beneath. We mentioned this at the time to Captain Gardner, and our finding coal now seemed a verification of what we then said; the coal-field probably extends from the Zambesi to the Rovuma, if not beyond it. Some of the rocks lower down have the permanent water-line three feet above the present height of the water. A few miles west of the Makoa of Matingula, we came again among the Makonde, but now of good repute. War and slavery have driven them to seek refuge on the sand-banks. A venerable-looking old man hailed us as we passed, and asked us if we were going by without speaking. We landed, and he laid down his gun and came to us; he was accompanied by his brother, who shook hands with every one in the boat, as he had seen people do at Kilwa. "Then you have seen white men before?" we said. "Yes," replied the polite African, "but never people of your quality." These men were very black, and wore but little clothing. A young woman, dressed in the highest style of Makonde fashion, punting as dexterously as a man could, brought a canoe full of girls to see us. She wore an ornamental head-dress of red beads tied to her hair on one side of her head, a necklace of fine beads of various colours, two bright figured brass bracelets on her left arm, and scarcely a farthing's worth of cloth, though it was at its cheapest. As we pushed on westwards, we found that the river makes a little southing, and some reaches were deeper than any near the sea; but when we had ascended about 140 miles by the river's course from the sea, soft tufa rocks began to appear; ten miles beyond, the river became more narrow and rocky, and when, according to our measurement, we had ascended 156 miles, our further progress was arrested. We were rather less than two degrees in a straight line from the Coast. The incidents worth noticing were but few: seven canoes with loads of salt and rice kept company with us for some days, and the further we went inland, the more civil the people became. When we came to a stand, just below the island of Nyamatolo, Long. 38 degrees 36 minutes E., and Lat. 11 degrees 53 minutes, the river was narrow, and full of rocks. Near the island there is a rocky rapid with narrow passages fit only for native canoes; the fall is small, and the banks quite low; but these rocks were an effectual barrier to all further progress in boats. Previous reports represented the navigable part of this river as extending to the distance of a month's sail from its mouth; we found that, at the ordinary heights of the water, a boat might reach the obstructions which seem peculiar to all African rivers in six or eight days. The Rovuma is remarkable for the high lands that flank it for some eighty miles from the ocean. The cataracts of other rivers occur in mountains, those of the Rovuma are found in a level part, with hills only in the distance. Far away in the west and north we could see high blue heights, probably of igneous origin from their forms, rising out of a plain. The distance from Ngomano, a spot thirty miles further up, to the Arab crossing-places of Lake Nyassa Tsenga or Kotakota was said to be twelve days. The way we had discovered to Lake Nyassa by Murchison's Cataracts had so much less land carriage, that we considered it best to take our steamer thither, by the route in which we were well known, instead of working where we were strangers; and accordingly we made up our minds to return. The natives reported a worse place above our turning-point--the passage being still narrower than this. An Arab, they said, once built a boat above the rapids, and sent it down full of slaves; but it was broken to pieces in these upper narrows. Many still maintained that the Rovuma came from Nyassa, and that it is very narrow as it issues out of the lake. One man declared that he had seen it with his own eyes as it left the lake, and seemed displeased at being cross-questioned, as if we doubted his veracity. More satisfactory information, as it appeared to us, was obtained from others. Two days, or thirty miles, beyond where we turned back, the Rovuma is joined by the Liende, which, coming from the south-west, rises in the mountains on the east side of Nyassa. The great slave route to Kilwa runs up the banks of this river, which is only ankle-deep at the dry season of the year. The Rovuma itself comes from the W.N.W., and after the traveller passes the confluence of the Liende at Ngomano or "meeting-place," the chief of which part is named Ndonde, he finds the river narrow, and the people Ajawa. Crocodiles in the Rovuma have a sorry time of it. Never before were reptiles so persecuted and snubbed. They are hunted with spears, and spring traps are set for them. If one of them enters an inviting pool after fish, he soon finds a fence thrown round it, and a spring trap set in the only path out of the enclosure. Their flesh is eaten, and relished. The banks, on which the female lays her eggs by night, are carefully searched by day, and all the eggs dug out and devoured. The fish-hawk makes havoc among the few young ones that escape their other enemies. Our men were constantly on the look-out for crocodiles' nests. One was found containing thirty-five newly-laid eggs, and they declared that the crocodile would lay as many more the second night in another place. The eggs were a foot deep in the sand on the top of a bank ten feet high. The animal digs a hole with its foot, covers the eggs, and leaves them till the river rises over the nest in about three months afterwards, when she comes back, and assists the young ones out. We once saw opposite Tette young crocodiles in December, swimming beside an island in company with an old one. The yolk of the egg is nearly as white as the real white. In taste they resemble hen's eggs with perhaps a smack of custard, and would be as highly relished by whites as by blacks, were it not for their unsavoury origin in men-eaters. Hunting the Senze (_Aulacodus Swindernianus_), an animal the size of a large cat, but in shape more like a pig, was the chief business of men and boys as we passed the reedy banks and low islands. They set fire to a mass of reeds, and, armed with sticks, spears, bows and arrows, stand in groups guarding the outlets through which the seared Senze may run from the approaching flames. Dark dense volumes of impenetrable smoke now roll over on the lee side of the islet, and shroud the hunters. At times vast sheets of lurid flames bursting forth, roaring, crackling and exploding, leap wildly far above the tall reeds. Out rush the terrified animals, and amid the smoke are seen the excited hunters dancing about with frantic gesticulations, and hurling stick, spear, and arrow at their burned out victims. Kites hover over the smoke, ready to pounce on the mantis and locusts as they spring from the fire. Small crows and hundreds of swallows are on eager wing, darting into the smoke and out again, seizing fugitive flies. Scores of insects, in their haste to escape from the fire, jump into the river, and the active fish enjoy a rare feast. We returned to the "Pioneer" on the 9th of October, having been away one month. The ship's company had used distilled water, a condenser having been sent out from England; and there had not been a single case of sickness on board since we left, though there were so many cases of fever the few days she lay in the same spot last year. Our boat party drank the water of the river, and the three white sailors, who had never been in an African river before, had some slight attacks of fever. CHAPTER XII. Return to the Zambesi--Bishop Mackenzie's grave--Frightful scenes with crocodiles--Death of Mr. Thornton--African poisons--Recall of the Expedition. We put to sea on the 18th of October, and, again touching at Johanna, obtained a crew of Johanna men and some oxen, and sailed for the Zambesi; but our fuel failing before we reached it, and the wind being contrary, we ran into Quillimane for wood. Quillimane must have been built solely for the sake of carrying on the slave-trade, for no man in his senses would ever have dreamed of placing a village on such a low, muddy, fever-haunted, and mosquito-swarming site, had it not been for the facilities it afforded for slaving. The bar may at springs and floods be easily crossed by sailing-vessels, but, being far from the land, it is always dangerous for boats. Slaves, under the name of "free emigrants," have gone by thousands from Quillimane, during the last six years, to the ports a little to the south, particularly to Massangano. Some excellent brick-houses still stand in the place, and the owners are generous and hospitable: among them our good friend, Colonel Nunez. His disinterested kindness to us and to all our countrymen can never be forgotten. He is a noble example of what energy and uprightness may accomplish even here. He came out as a cabin- boy, and, without a single friend to help him, he has persevered in an honourable course until he is the richest man on the East Coast. When Dr. Livingstone came down the Zambesi in 1856, Colonel Nunez was the chief of the only four honourable, trustworthy men in the country. But while he has risen a whole herd has sunk, making loud lamentations, through puffs of cigar-smoke, over negro laziness; they might add, their own. All agricultural enterprise is virtually discouraged by Quillimane Government. A man must purchase a permit from the Governor, when he wishes to visit his country farm; and this tax, in a country where labour is unpopular, causes the farms to be almost entirely left in the hands of a head slave, who makes returns to his master as interest or honesty prompts him. A passport must also be bought whenever a man wishes to go up the river to Mazaro, Senna, or Tette, or even to reside for a month at Quillimane. With a soil and a climate well suited for the growth of the cane, abundance of slave labour, and water communication to any market in the world, they have never made their own sugar. All they use is imported from Bombay. "The people of Quillimane have no enterprise," said a young European Portuguese, "they do nothing, and are always wasting their time in suffering, or in recovering from fever." We entered the Zambesi about the end of November and found it unusually low, so we did not get up to Shupanga till the 19th of December. The friends of our Mazaro men, who had now become good sailors and very attentive servants, turned out and gave them a hearty welcome back from the perils of the sea: they had begun to fear that they would never return. We hired them at a sixteen-yard piece of cloth a month--about ten shillings' worth, the Portuguese market-price of the cloth being then sevenpence halfpenny a yard,--and paid them five pieces each, for four- and-a-half months' work. A merchant at the same time paid other Mazaro men three pieces for seven months, and they were with him in the interior. If the merchants do not prosper, it is not because labour is dear, but because it is scarce, and because they are so eager on every occasion to sell the workmen out of the country. Our men had also received quantities of good clothes from the sailors of the "Pioneer" and of the "Orestes," and were now regarded by their neighbours and by themselves as men of importance. Never before had they possessed so much wealth: they believed that they might settle in life, being now of sufficient standing to warrant their entering the married state; and a wife and a hut were among their first investments. Sixteen yards were paid to the wife's parents, and a hut cost four yards. We should have liked to have kept them in the ship, for they were well-behaved and had learned a great deal of the work required. Though they would not themselves go again, they engaged others for us; and brought twice as many as we could take, of their brothers and cousins, who were eager to join the ship and go with us up the Shire, or anywhere else. They all agreed to take half-pay until they too had learned to work; and we found no scarcity of labour, though all that could be exported is now out of the country. There had been a drought of unusual severity during the past season in the country between Lupata and Kebrabasa, and it had extended north-east to the Manganja highlands. All the Tette slaves, except a very few household ones, had been driven away by hunger, and were now far off in the woods, and wherever wild fruit, or the prospect of obtaining anything whatever to keep the breath of life in them, was to be found. Their masters were said never to expect to see them again. There have been two years of great hunger at Tette since we have been in the country, and a famine like the present prevailed in 1854, when thousands died of starvation. If men like the Cape farmers owned this country, their energy and enterprise would soon render the crops independent of rain. There being plenty of slope or fall, the land could be easily irrigated from the Zambesi and its tributary streams. A Portuguese colony can never prosper: it is used as a penal settlement, and everything must be done military fashion. "What do I care for this country?" said the most enterprising of the Tette merchants, "all I want is to make money as soon possible, and then go to Bombay and enjoy it." All business at Tette was now suspended. Carriers could not be found to take the goods into the interior, and the merchants could barely obtain food for their own families. At Mazaro more rain had fallen, and a tolerable crop followed. The people of Shupanga were collecting and drying different wild fruits, nearly all of which are far from palatable to a European taste. The root of a small creeper called "bise" is dug up and eaten. In appearance it is not unlike the small white sweet potato, and has a little of the flavour of our potato. It would be very good, if it were only a little larger. From another tuber, called "ulanga," very good starch can be made. A few miles from Shupanga there is an abundance of large game, but the people here, though fond enough of meat, are not a hunting race, and seldom kill any. The Shire having risen, we steamed off on the 10th of January, 1863, with the "Lady Nyassa" in tow. It was not long before we came upon the ravages of the notorious Mariano. The survivors of a small hamlet, at the foot of Morambala, were in a state of starvation, having lost their food by one of his marauding parties. The women were in the fields collecting insects, roots, wild fruits, and whatever could be eaten, in order to drag on their lives, if possible, till the next crop should be ripe. Two canoes passed us, that had been robbed by Mariano's band of everything they had in them; the owners were gathering palm-nuts for their subsistence. They wore palm-leaf aprons, as the robbers had stripped them of their clothing and ornaments. Dead bodies floated past us daily, and in the mornings the paddles had to be cleared of corpses, caught by the floats during the night. For scores of miles the entire population of the valley was swept away by this scourge Mariano, who is again, as he was before, the great Portuguese slave-agent. It made the heart ache to see the widespread desolation; the river-banks, once so populous, all silent; the villages burned down, and an oppressive stillness reigning where formerly crowds of eager sellers appeared with the various products of their industry. Here and there might be seen on the bank a small dreary deserted shed, where had sat, day after day, a starving fisherman, until the rising waters drove the fish from their wonted haunts, and left him to die. Tingane had been defeated; his people had been killed, kidnapped, and forced to flee from their villages. There were a few wretched survivors in a village above the Ruo; but the majority of the population was dead. The sight and smell of dead bodies was everywhere. Many skeletons lay beside the path, where in their weakness they had fallen and expired. Ghastly living forms of boys and girls, with dull dead eyes, were crouching beside some of the huts. A few more miserable days of their terrible hunger, and they would be with the dead. Oppressed with the shocking scenes around, we visited the Bishop's grave; and though it matters little where a good Christian's ashes rest, yet it was with sadness that we thought over the hopes which had clustered around him, as he left the classic grounds of Cambridge, all now buried in this wild place. How it would have torn his kindly heart to witness the sights we now were forced to see! In giving vent to the natural feelings of regret, that a man so eminently endowed and learned, as was Bishop Mackenzie, should have been so soon cut off, some have expressed an opinion that it was wrong to use an instrument so valuable _merely_ to convert the heathen. If the attempt is to be made at all, it is "penny wise and pound foolish" to employ any but the very best men, and those who are specially educated for the work. An ordinary clergyman, however well suited for a parish, will not, without special training, make a Missionary; and as to their comparative usefulness, it is like that of the man who builds an hospital, as compared with that of the surgeon who in after years only administers for a time the remedies which the founder had provided in perpetuity. Had the Bishop succeeded in introducing Christianity, his converts might have been few, but they would have formed a continuous roll for all time to come. The Shire fell two feet, before we reached the shallow crossing where we had formerly such difficulty, and we had now two ships to take up. A hippopotamus was shot two miles above a bank on which the ship lay a fortnight: it floated in three hours. As the boat was towing it down, the crocodiles were attracted by the dead beast, and several shots had to be fired to keep them off. The bullet had not entered the brain of the animal, but driven a splinter of bone into it. A little moisture with some gas issued from the wound, and this was all that could tell the crocodiles down the stream of a dead hippopotamus; and yet they came up from miles below. Their sense of smell must be as acute as their hearing; both are quite extraordinary. Dozens fed on the meat we left. Our Krooman, Jumbo, used to assert that the crocodile never eats fresh meat, but always keeps it till it is high and tender--and the stronger it smells the better he likes it. There seems to be some truth in this. They can swallow but small pieces at a time, and find it difficult to tear fresh meat. In the act of swallowing, which is like that of a dog, the head is raised out of the water. We tried to catch some, and one was soon hooked; it required half-a-dozen hands to haul him up the river, and the shark-hook straightened, and he got away. A large iron hook was next made, but, as the creatures could not swallow it, their jaws soon pressed it straight--and our crocodile-fishing was a failure. As one might expect,--from the power even of a salmon--the tug of a crocodile was terribly strong. The corpse of a boy floated past the ship; a monstrous crocodile rushed at it with the speed of a greyhound, caught it and shook it, as a terrier dog does a rat. Others dashed at the prey, each with his powerful tail causing the water to churn and froth, as he furiously tore off a piece. In a few seconds it was all gone. The sight was frightful to behold. The Shire swarmed with crocodiles; we counted sixty-seven of these repulsive reptiles on a single bank, but they are not as fierce as they are in some rivers. "Crocodiles," says Captain Tuckey, "are so plentiful in the Congo, near the rapids, and so frequently carry off the women, who at daylight go down to the river for water, that, while they are filling their calabashes, one of the party is usually employed in throwing large stones into the water outside." Here, either a calabash on a long pole is used in drawing water, or a fence is planted. The natives eat the crocodile, but to us the idea of tasting the musky-scented, fishy-looking flesh carried the idea of cannibalism. Humboldt remarks, that in South America the alligators of some rivers are more dangerous than in others. Alligators differ from crocodiles in the fourth or canine tooth going into a hole or socket in the upper jaw, while in the crocodile it fits into a notch. The forefoot of the crocodile has five toes not webbed, the hindfoot has four toes which are webbed; in the alligator the web is altogether wanting. They are so much alike that they would no doubt breed together. One of the crocodiles which was shot had a piece snapped off the end of his tail, another had lost a forefoot in fighting; we saw actual leeches between the teeth, such as are mentioned by Herodotus, but we never witnessed the plover picking them out. Their greater fierceness in one part of the country than another is doubtless owing to a scarcity of fish; in fact, Captain Tuckey says, of that part of the Congo, mentioned above, "There are no fish here but catfish," and we found that the lake crocodiles, living in clear water, and with plenty of fish, scarcely ever attacked man. The Shire teems with fish of many different kinds. The only time, as already remarked, when its crocodiles are particularly to be dreaded, is when the river is in flood. Then the fish are driven from their usual haunts, and no game comes down to the river to drink, water being abundant in pools inland. Hunger now impels the crocodile to lie in wait for the women who come to draw water, and on the Zambesi numbers are carried off every year. The danger is not so great at other seasons; though it is never safe to bathe, or to stoop to drink, where one cannot see the bottom, especially in the evening. One of the Makololo ran down in the dusk of the river; and, as he was busy tossing the water to his mouth with his hand, in the manner peculiar to the natives, a crocodile rose suddenly from the bottom, and caught him by the hand. The limb of a tree was fortunately within reach, and he had presence of mind to lay hold of it. Both tugged and pulled; the crocodile for his dinner, and the man for dear life. For a time it appeared doubtful whether a dinner or a life was to be sacrificed; but the man held on, and the monster let the hand go, leaving the deep marks of his ugly teeth in it. During our detention, in expectation of the permanent rise of the river in March, Dr. Kirk and Mr. C. Livingstone collected numbers of the wading- birds of the marshes--and made pleasant additions to our salted provisions, in geese, ducks, and hippopotamus flesh. One of the comb or knob-nosed geese, on being strangled in order to have its skin preserved without injury, continued to breathe audibly by the broken humerus, or wing-bone, and other means had to be adopted to put it out of pain. This was as if a man on the gallows were to continue to breathe by a broken armbone, and afforded us an illustration of the fact, that in birds, the vital air penetrates every part of the interior of their bodies. The breath passes through and round about the lungs--bathes the surfaces of the viscera, and enters the cavities of the bones; it even penetrates into some spaces between the muscles of the neck--and thus not only is the most perfect oxygenation of the blood secured, but, the temperature of the blood being very high, the air in every part is rarefied, and the great lightness and vigour provided for, that the habits of birds require. Several birds were found by Dr. Kirk to have marrow in the tibiae, though these bones are generally described as hollow. During the period of our detention on the shallow part of the river in March, Mr. Thornton came up to us from Shupanga: he had, as before narrated, left the Expedition in 1859, and joined Baron van der Decken, in the journey to Kilimanjaro, when, by an ascent of the mountain to the height of 8000 feet, it was first proved to be covered with perpetual snow, and the previous information respecting it, given by the Church of England Missionaries, Krapf and Rebman, confirmed. It is now well known that the Baron subsequently ascended the Kilimanjaro to 14,000 feet, and ascertained its highest peak to be at least 20,000 feet above the sea. Mr. Thornton made the map of the first journey, at Shupanga, from materials collected when with the Baron; and when that work was accomplished, followed us. He was then directed to examine geologically the Cataract district, but not to expose himself to contact with the Ajawa until the feelings of that tribe should be ascertained. The members of Bishop Mackenzie's party, on the loss of their head, fell back from Magomero on the highlands, to Chibisa's, in the low-lying Shire Valley; and Thornton, finding them suffering from want of animal food, kindly volunteered to go across thence to Tette, and bring a supply of goats and sheep. We were not aware of this step, to which the generosity of his nature prompted him, till two days after he had started. In addition to securing supplies for the Universities' Mission, he brought some for the Expedition, and took bearings, by which he hoped to connect his former work at Tette with the mountains in the Shire district. The toil of this journey was too much for his strength, as with the addition of great scarcity of water, it had been for that of Dr. Kirk and Rae, and he returned in a sadly haggard and exhausted condition; diarrhoea supervened, and that ended in dysentery and fever, which terminated fatally on the 21st of April, 1863. He received the unremitting attentions of Dr. Kirk, and Dr. Meller, surgeon of the "Pioneer," during the fortnight of his illness; and as he had suffered very little from fever, or any other disease, in Africa, we had entertained strong hopes that his youth and unimpaired constitution would have carried him through. During the night of the 20th his mind wandered so much, that we could not ascertain his last wishes; and on the morning of the 21st, to our great sorrow, he died. He was buried on the 22nd, near a large tree on the right bank of the Shire, about five hundred yards from the lowest of the Murchison Cataracts--and close to a rivulet, at which the "Lady Nyassa" and "Pioneer" lay. No words can convey an adequate idea of the scene of widespread desolation which the once pleasant Shire Valley now presented. Instead of smiling villages and crowds of people coming with things for sale, scarcely a soul was to be seen; and, when by chance one lighted on a native, his frame bore the impress of hunger, and his countenance the look of a cringing broken-spiritedness. A drought had visited the land after the slave-hunting panic swept over it. Had it been possible to conceive the thorough depopulation which had ensued, we should have avoided coming up the river. Large masses of the people had fled down to the Shire, only anxious to get the river between them and their enemies. Most of the food had been left behind; and famine and starvation had cut off so many, that the remainder were too few to bury the dead. The corpses we saw floating down the river were only a remnant of those that had perished, whom their friends, from weakness, could not bury, nor over- gorged crocodiles devour. It is true that famine caused a great portion of this waste of human life: but the slave-trade must be deemed the chief agent in the ruin, because, as we were informed, in former droughts all the people flocked from the hills down to the marshes, which are capable of yielding crops of maize in less than three months, at any time of the year, and now they were afraid to do so. A few, encouraged by the Mission in the attempt to cultivate, had their little patches robbed as successive swarms of fugitives came from the hills. Who can blame these outcasts from house and home for stealing to save their wretched lives, or wonder that the owners protected the little all, on which their own lives depended, with club and spear? We were informed by Mr. Waller of the dreadful blight which had befallen the once smiling Shire Valley. His words, though strong, failed to impress us with the reality. In fact, they were received, as some may accept our own, as tinged with exaggeration; but when our eyes beheld the last mere driblets of this cup of woe, we for the first time felt that the enormous wrongs inflicted on our fellow-men by slaving are beyond exaggeration. Wherever we took a walk, human skeletons were seen in every direction, and it was painfully interesting to observe the different postures in which the poor wretches had breathed their last. A whole heap had been thrown down a slope behind a village, where the fugitives often crossed the river from the east; and in one hut of the same village no fewer than twenty drums had been collected, probably the ferryman's fees. Many had ended their misery under shady trees--others under projecting crags in the hills--while others lay in their huts, with closed doors, which when opened disclosed the mouldering corpse with the poor rags round the loins--the skull fallen off the pillow--the little skeleton of the child, that had perished first, rolled up in a mat between two large skeletons. The sight of this desert, but eighteen months ago a well peopled valley, now literally strewn with human bones, forced the conviction upon us, that the destruction of human life in the middle passage, however great, constitutes but a small portion of the waste, and made us feel that unless the slave-trade--that monster iniquity, which has so long brooded over Africa--is put down, lawful commerce cannot be established. We believed that, if it were possible to get a steamer upon the Lake, we could by her means put a check on the slavers from the East Coast; and aid more effectually still in the suppression of the slave-trade, by introducing, by way of the Rovuma, a lawful traffic in ivory. We therefore unscrewed the "Lady Nyassa" at a rivulet about five hundred yards below the first cataract, and began to make a road over the thirty- five or forty miles of land portage, by which to carry her up piecemeal. After mature consideration, we could not imagine a more noble work of benevolence, than thus to introduce light and liberty into a quarter of this fair earth, which human lust has converted into the nearest possible resemblance of what we conceive the infernal regions to be--and we sacrificed much of our private resources as an offering for the promotion of so good a cause. The chief part of the labour of road-making consisted in cutting down trees and removing stones. The country being covered with open forest, a small tree had to be cut about every fifty or sixty yards. The land near the river was so very much intersected by ravines, that search had to be made, a mile from its banks, for more level ground. Experienced Hottentot drivers would have taken Cape wagons without any other trouble than that of occasionally cutting down a tree. No tsetse infested this district, and the cattle brought from Johanna flourished on the abundant pasture. The first half-mile of road led up, by a gradual slope, to an altitude of two hundred feet above the ship, and a sensible difference of climate was felt even there. For the remainder of the distance the height increased,--till, at the uppermost cataract, we were more than 1200 feet above the sea. The country here, having recovered from the effects of the drought, was bright with young green woodland, and mountains of the same refreshing hue. But the absence of the crowds, which had attended us as we carried up the boat, when the women followed us for miles with fine meal, vegetables, and fat fowls for sale, and the boys were ever ready for a little job--and the oppressive stillness bore heavily on our spirits. The Portuguese of Tette had very effectually removed our labourers. Not an ounce of fresh provisions could be obtained, except what could be shot, and even the food for our native crew had to be brought one hundred and fifty miles from the Zambesi. The diet of salt provisions and preserved meats without vegetables, with the depression of spirits caused by seeing how effectually a few wretched convicts, aided by the connivance of officials, of whom better might have been hoped, could counteract our best efforts, and turn intended good to certain evil, brought on attacks of dysentery, which went the round of the Expedition--and, Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone having suffered most severely, it was deemed advisable that they should go home. This measure was necessary, though much to the regret of all--for having done so much, they were naturally anxious to be present, when, by the establishing ourselves on the Lake, all our efforts should be crowned with success. After it had been decided that these two officers, and all the whites who could be spared, should be sent down to the sea for a passage to England, Dr. Livingstone was seized in May with a severe attack of dysentery, which continued for a month, and reduced him to a shadow. Dr. Kirk kindly remained in attendance till the worst was passed. The parting took place on the 19th of May. After a few miles of road were completed, and the oxen broken in, we resolved to try and render ourselves independent of the south for fresh provisions, by going in a boat up the Shire, above the Cataracts, to the tribes at the foot of Lake Nyassa, who were still untouched by the Ajawa invasion. In furtherance of this plan Dr. Livingstone and Mr. Rae determined to walk up to examine, and, if need be, mend the boat which had been left two seasons previously hung up to the limb of a large shady tree, before attempting to carry another past the Cataracts. The "Pioneer," which was to be left in charge of our active and most trustworthy gunner, Mr. Edward D. Young, R.N., was thoroughly roofed over with euphorbia branches and grass, so as completely to protect her decks from the sun: she also received daily a due amount of man-of-war scrubbing and washing; and, besides having everything put in shipshape fashion, was every evening swung out into the middle of the river, for the sake of the greater amount of air which circulated there. In addition to their daily routine work of the ship, the three stokers, one sailor, and one carpenter--now our complement--were encouraged to hunt for guinea-fowl, which in June, when the water inland is dried up, come in large flocks to the river's banks, and roost on the trees at night. Everything that can be done to keep mind and body employed tends to prevent fever. While we were employed in these operations, some of the poor starved people about had been in the habit of crossing the river, and reaping the self-sown mapira, in the old gardens of their countrymen. In the afternoon of the 9th, a canoe came floating down empty, and shortly after a woman was seen swimming near the other side, which was about two hundred yards distant from us. Our native crew manned the boat, and rescued her; when brought on board, she was found to have an arrow-head, eight or ten inches long, in her back, below the ribs, and slanting up through the diaphragm and left lung, towards the heart--she had been shot from behind when stooping. Air was coming out of the wound, and, there being but an inch of the barbed arrow-head visible, it was thought better not to run the risk of her dying under the operation necessary for its removal; so we carried her up to her own hut. One of her relatives was less scrupulous, for he cut out the arrow and part of the lung. Mr. Young sent her occasionally portions of native corn, and strange to say found that she not only became well, but stout. The constitution of these people seems to have a wonderful power of self-repair--and it could be no slight privation which had cut off the many thousands that we saw dead around us. We regretted that, in consequence of Dr. Meller having now sole medical charge, we could not have his company in our projected trip; but he found employment in botany and natural history, after the annual sickly season of March, April, and May was over; and his constant presence was not so much required at the ship. Later in the year, when he could be well spared, he went down the river to take up an appointment he had been offered in Madagascar; but unfortunately was so severely tried by illness while detained at the coast, that for nearly two years he was not able to turn his abilities as a naturalist to account by proceeding to that island. We have no doubt but he will yet distinguish himself in that untrodden field. On the 16th of June we started for the Upper Cataracts, with a mule-cart, our road lying a distance of a mile west from the river. We saw many of the deserted dwellings of the people who formerly came to us; and were very much struck by the extent of land under cultivation, though that, compared with the whole country, is very small. Large patches of mapira continued to grow,--as it is said it does from the roots for three years. The mapira was mixed with tall bushes of the Congo-bean, castor-oil plants, and cotton. The largest patch of this kind we paced, and found it to be six hundred and thirty paces on one side--the rest were from one acre to three, and many not more than one-third of an acre. The cotton--of very superior quality--was now dropping off the bushes, to be left to rot--there was no one to gather what would have been of so much value in Lancashire. The huts, in the different villages we entered, were standing quite perfect. The mortars for pounding corn--the stones for grinding it--the water and beer pots--the empty corn-safes and kitchen utensils, were all untouched; and most of the doors were shut, as if the starving owners had gone out to wander in search of roots or fruits in the forest, and had never returned. When opened, several huts revealed a ghastly sight of human skeletons. Some were seen in such unnatural positions, as to give the idea that they had expired in a faint, when trying to reach something to allay the gnawings of hunger. We took several of the men as far as the Mukuru-Madse for the sake of the change of air and for occupation, and also to secure for the ships a supply of buffalo meat--as those animals were reported to be in abundance on that stream. But though it was evident from the tracks that the report was true, it was impossible to get a glimpse of them. The grass being taller than we were, and pretty thickly planted, they always knew of our approach before we saw them. And the first intimation we had of their being near was the sound they made in rushing over the stones, breaking the branches, and knocking their horns against each other. Once, when seeking a ford for the cart, at sunrise, we saw a herd slowly wending up the hill-side from the water. Sending for a rifle, and stalking with intense eagerness for a fat beefsteak, instead of our usual fare of salted provisions, we got so near that we could hear the bulls uttering their hoarse deep low, but could see nothing except the mass of yellow grass in front; suddenly the buffalo-birds sounded their alarm- whistle, and away dashed the troop, and we got sight of neither birds nor beasts. This would be no country for a sportsman except when the grass is short. The animals are wary, from the dread they have of the poisoned arrows. Those of the natives who do hunt are deeply imbued with the hunting spirit, and follow the game with a stealthy perseverance and cunning, quite extraordinary. The arrow making no noise, the herd is followed up until the poison takes effect, and the wounded animal falls out. It is then patiently watched till it drops--a portion of meat round the wound is cut away, and all the rest eaten. Poisoned arrows are made in two pieces. An iron barb is firmly fastened to one end of a small wand of wood, ten inches or a foot long, the other end of which, fined down to a long point, is nicely fitted, though not otherwise secured, in the hollow of the reed, which forms the arrow shaft. The wood immediately below the iron head is smeared with the poison. When the arrow is shot into an animal, the reed either falls to the ground at once, or is very soon brushed off by the bushes; but the iron barb and poisoned upper part of the wood remain in the wound. If made in one piece, the arrow would often be torn out, head and all, by the long shaft catching in the underwood, or striking against trees. The poison used here, and called _kombi_, is obtained from a species of _strophanthus_, and is very virulent. Dr. Kirk found by an accidental experiment on himself that it acts by lowering the pulse. In using his tooth-brush, which had been in a pocket containing a little of the poison, he noticed a bitter taste, but attributed it to his having sometimes used, the handle in taking quinine. Though the quantity was small, it immediately showed its power by lowering his pulse which at the time had been raised by a cold, and next day he was perfectly restored. Not much can be inferred from a single case of this kind, but it is possible that the kombi may turn out a valuable remedy; and as Professor Sharpey has conducted a series of experiments with this substance, we look with interest for the results. An alkaloid has been obtained from it similar to strychnine. There is no doubt that all kinds of wild animals die from the effects of poisoned arrows, except the elephant and hippopotamus. The amount of poison that this little weapon can convey into their systems being too small to kill those huge beasts, the hunters resort to the beam trap instead. Another kind of poison was met with on Lake Nyassa, which was said to be used exclusively for killing men. It was put on small wooden arrow-heads, and carefully protected by a piece of maize-leaf tied round it. It caused numbness of the tongue when the smallest particle was tasted. The Bushmen of the northern part of the Kalahari were seen applying the entrails of a small caterpillar which they termed 'Nga to their arrows. This venom was declared to be so powerful in producing delirium, that a man in dying returned in imagination to a state of infancy, and would call for his mother's breast. Lions when shot with it are said to perish in agonies. The poisonous ingredient in this case may be derived from the plant on which the caterpillar feeds. It is difficult to conceive by what sort of experiments the properties of these poisons, known for generations, were proved. Probably the animal instincts, which have become so obtuse by civilization, that children in England eat the berries of the deadly nightshade (_Atropa belladonna_) without suspicion, were in the early uncivilized state much more keen. In some points instinct is still retained among savages. It is related that in the celebrated voyage of the French navigator, Bougainville, a young lady, who had assumed the male attire, performed all the hard duties incident to the calling of a common sailor; and, even as servant to the geologist, carried a bag of stones and specimens over hills and dales without a complaint, and without having her sex suspected by her associates; but on landing among the savages of one of the South Sea Islands, she was instantly recognized as a female. They began to show their impressions in a way that compelled her to confess her sex, and throw herself on the protection of the commander, which of course was granted. In like manner, the earlier portions of the human family may have had their instincts as to plants more highly developed than any of their descendants--if indeed much more knowledge than we usually suppose be not the effect of direct revelation from above. The Mukuru-Madse has a deep rocky bed. The water is generally about four feet deep, and fifteen or twenty yards broad. Before reaching it, we passed five or six gullies; but beyond it the country, for two or three miles from the river, was comparatively smooth. The long grass was overrunning all the native paths, and one species (_sanu_), which has a sharp barbed seed a quarter of an inch in length, enters every pore of woollen clothing and highly irritates the skin. From its hard, sharp point a series of minute barbs are laid back, and give the seed a hold wherever it enters: the slightest touch gives it an entering motion, and the little hooks prevent its working out. These seeds are so abundant in some spots, that the inside of the stocking becomes worse than the roughest hair shirt. It is, however, an excellent self-sower, and fine fodder; it rises to the height of common meadow-grass in England, and would be a capital plant for spreading over a new country not so abundantly supplied with grasses as this is. We have sometimes noticed two or three leaves together pierced through by these seeds, and thus made, as it were, into wings to carry them to any soil suited to their growth. We always follow the native paths, though they are generally not more than fifteen inches broad, and so often have deep little holes in them, made for the purpose of setting traps for small animals, and are so much obscured by the long grass, that one has to keep one's eyes on the ground more than is pleasant. In spite, however, of all drawbacks, it is vastly more easy to travel on these tracks than to go straight over uncultivated ground, or virgin forest. A path usually leads to some village, though sometimes it turns out to be a mere game track leading nowhere. In going north, we came into a part called Mpemba where Chibisa was owned as chief, but the people did not know that he had been assassinated by the Portuguese Terera. A great deal of grain was lying round the hut, where we spent the night. Very large numbers of turtledoves feasted undisturbed on the tall stalked mapira ears, and we easily secured plenty of fine fat guinea-fowls--now allowed to feed leisurely in the deserted gardens. The reason assigned for all this listless improvidence was "There are no women to grind the corn--all are dead." The cotton patches in all cases seemed to have been so well cared for, and kept so free of weeds formerly, that, though now untended, but few weeds had sprung up; and the bushes were thus preserved in the annual grass burnings. Many baobab-trees grow in different spots, and the few people seen were using the white pulp found between the seeds to make a pleasant subacid drink. On passing Malango, near the uppermost cataract, not a soul was to be seen; but, as we rested opposite a beautiful tree-covered island, the merry voices of children at play fell on our ears--the parents had fled thither for protection from the slave-hunting Ajawa, still urged on by the occasional visits of the Portuguese agents from Tette. The Ajawa, instead of passing below the Cataracts, now avoided us, and crossed over to the east side near to the tree on which we had hung the boat. Those of the Manganja, to whom we could make ourselves known, readily came to us; but the majority had lost all confidence in themselves, in each other, and in every one else. The boat had been burned about three months previously, and the Manganja were very anxious that we should believe that this had been the act of the Ajawa; but on scanning the spot we saw that it was more likely to have caught fire in the grass-burning of the country. Had we intended to be so long in returning to it, we should have hoisted it bottom upwards; for, as it was, it is probable that a quantity of dried leaves lay inside, and a spark ignited the whole. All the trees within fifty yards were scorched and killed, and the nails, iron, and copper sheathing, all lay undisturbed beneath. Had the Ajawa done the deed, they would have taken away the copper and iron. Our hopes of rendering ourselves independent of the south for provisions, by means of this boat, being thus disappointed, we turned back with the intention of carrying another up to the same spot; and, in order to find level ground for this, we passed across from the Shire at Malango to the upper part of the stream Lesungwe. A fine, active, intelligent fellow, called Pekila, guided us, and was remarkable as almost the only one of the population left with any spirit in him. The depressing effect which the slave-hunting scourge has upon the native mind, though little to be wondered at, is sad, very sad to witness. Musical instruments, mats, pillows, mortars for pounding meal, were lying about unused, and becoming the prey of the white ants. With all their little comforts destroyed, the survivors were thrown still further back into barbarism. It is of little importance perhaps to any but travellers to notice that in occupying one night a well-built hut, which had been shut up for some time, the air inside at once gave us a chill, and an attack of fever; both of which vanished when the place was well-ventilated by means of a fire. We have frequently observed that lighting a fire early in the mornings, even in the hottest time of the year, gives freshness to the whole house, and removes that feeling of closeness and langour, which a hot climate induces. On the night of the 1st July, 1863, several loud peals of thunder awoke us; the moon was shining brightly, and not a cloud to be seen. All the natives remarked on the clearness of the sky at the time, and next morning said, "We thought it was God" (Morungo). On arriving at the ship on the 2nd July, we found a despatch from Earl Russell, containing instructions for the withdrawal of the Expedition. The devastation caused by slave-hunting and famine lay all around. The labour had been as completely swept away from the Great Shire Valley, as it had been from the Zambesi, wherever Portuguese intrigue or power extended. The continual forays of Mariano had spread ruin and desolation on our south-east as far as Mount Clarendon. While this was going on in our rear, the Tette slave-hunters from the West had stimulated the Ajawa to sweep all the Manganja off the hills on our East; and slaving parties for this purpose were still passing the Shire above the Cataracts. In addition to the confession of the Governor of Tette, of an intention to go on with this slaving in accordance with the counsel of his elder brother at Mosambique, we had reason to believe that slavery went on under the eye of his Excellency, the Governor-General himself; and this was subsequently corroborated by our recognizing two women at Mosambique who had lived within a hundred yards of the Mission-station at Magomero. They were well known to our attendants, and had formed a part of a gang of several hundreds taken to Mosambique by the Ajawa at the very time when his Excellency was entertaining English officers with anti-slavery palavers. To any one who understands how minute the information is, which Portuguese governors possess by means of their own slaves, and through gossiping traders who seek to curry their favour, it is idle to assert that all this slaving goes on without their approval and connivance. If more had been wanted to prove the hopelessness of producing any change in the system which has prevailed ever since our allies, the Portuguese, entered the country, we had it in the impunity with which the freebooter, Terera, who had murdered Chibisa, was allowed to carry on his forays. Belchoir, another marauder, had been checked, but was still allowed to make war, as they term slave-hunting. Mr. Horace Waller was living for some five months on Mount Morambala, a position from which the whole process of the slave-trade, and depopulation of the country around could be well noted. The mountain overlooks the Shire, the beautiful meanderings of which are distinctly seen, on clear days, for thirty miles. This river was for some time supposed to be closed against Mariano, who, as a mere matter of form, was declared a rebel against the Portuguese flag. When, however, it became no longer possible to keep up the sham, the river was thrown open to him; and Mr. Waller has seen in a single day from fifteen to twenty canoes of different sizes going down, laden with slaves, to the Portuguese settlements from the so-called rebel camp. These cargoes were composed entirely of women and children. For three months this traffic was incessant, and at last, so completely was the mask thrown off, that one of the officials came to pay a visit to Bishop Tozer on another part of the same mountain, and, combining business with pleasure, collected payment for some canoe work done for the Missionary party, and with this purchased slaves from the rebels, who had only to be hailed from the bank of the river. When he had concluded the bargain he trotted the slaves out for inspection in Mr. Waller's presence. This official, Senhor Mesquita, was the only officer who could be forced to live at the Kongone. From certain circumstances in his life, he had fallen under the power of the local Government; all the other Custom-house officers refused to go to Kongone, so here poor Mesquita must live on a miserable pittance--must live, and perhaps slave, sorely against his will. His name is not brought forward with a view of throwing any odium on his character. The disinterested kindness which he showed to Dr. Meller, and others, forbids that he should be mentioned by us with anything like unkindness. Under all these considerations, with the fact that we had not found the Rovuma so favourable for navigation at the time of our visit as we expected, it was impossible not to coincide in the wisdom of our withdrawal; but we deeply regretted that we had ever given credit to the Portuguese Government for any desire to ameliorate the condition of the African race; for, with half the labour and expense anywhere else, we should have made an indelible mark of improvement on a section of the Continent. Viewing Portuguese statesmen in the light of the laws they have passed for the suppression of slavery and the slave-trade, and by the standard of the high character of our own public men, it cannot be considered weakness to have believed in the sincerity of the anxiety to aid our enterprise, professed by the Lisbon Ministry. We hoped to benefit both Portuguese and Africans by introducing free-trade and Christianity. Our allies, unfortunately, cannot see the slightest benefit in any measure that does not imply raising themselves up by thrusting others down. The official paper of the Lisbon Government has since let us know "that their policy was directed to frustrating the grasping designs of the British Government to the dominion of Eastern Africa." We, who were on the spot, and behind the scenes, knew that feelings of private benevolence had the chief share in the operations undertaken for introducing the reign of peace and good will on the Lakes and central regions, which for ages have been the abodes of violence and bloodshed. But that great change was not to be accomplished. The narrow- minded would ascribe all that was attempted to the grasping propensity of the English. But the motives that actuate many in England, both in public and private life, are much more noble than the world gives them credit for. Seeing, then, that we were not yet arrived at "the good time coming," and that it was quite impossible to take the "Pioneer" down to the sea till the floods of December, we made arrangements to screw the "Lady Nyassa" together; and, in order to improve the time intervening, we resolved to carry a boat past the Cataracts a second time, sail along the eastern shore of the Lake, and round the northern end, and also collect data by which to verify the information collected by Colonel Rigby, that the 19,000 slaves, who go through the Custom-house of Zanzibar annually, are chiefly drawn from Lake Nyassa and the Valley of the Shire. Our party consisted of twenty natives, some of whom were Johanna men, and were supposed to be capable of managing the six oxen which drew the small wagon with a boat on it. A team of twelve Cape oxen, with a Hottentot driver and leader, would have taken the wagon over the country we had to pass through with the greatest ease; but no sooner did we get beyond the part of the road already made, than our drivers encountered obstructions in the way of trees and gullies, which it would have been a waste of time to have overcome by felling timber and hauling out the wagon by block and tackle purchases. The Ajawa and Manganja settled at Chibisa's were therefore sent for, and they took the boat on their shoulders and carried it briskly, in a few days, past all the Cataracts except one; then coming to a comparatively still reach of the river, they took advantage of it to haul her up a couple of miles. The Makololo had her then entirely in charge; for, being accustomed to rapids in their own country, no better boatmen could be desired. The river here is very narrow, and even in what are called still places, the current is very strong, and often obliged them to haul the boat along by the reeds on the banks, or to hand a tow-rope ashore. The reeds are full of cowitch (_Dolichos pruriens_), the pods of which are covered with what looks a fine velvety down, but is in reality a multitude of fine prickles, which go in by the million, and caused an itching and stinging in the naked bodies of those who were pulling the tow-rope, that made them wriggle as if stung by a whole bed of nettles. Those on board required to be men of ready resource with oars and punting-poles, and such they were. But, nevertheless, they found, after attempting to pass by a rock, round which the water rushed in whirls, that the wiser plan would be to take the boat ashore, and carry her past the last Cataract. When this was reported, the carriers were called from the various shady trees under which they had taken refuge from the sun. This was midwinter, but the sun is always hot by day here, though the nights are cold. Five Zambesi men, who had been all their lives accustomed to great heavy canoes,--the chief recommendation of which is said to be, that they can be run against a rock with the full force of the current without injury--were very desirous to show how much better they could manage our boat than the Makololo; three jumped into her when our backs were turned, and two hauled her up a little way; the tide caught her bow, we heard a shout of distress, the rope was out of their hands in a moment, and there she was, bottom upwards; a turn or two in an eddy, and away she went, like an arrow, down the Cataracts. One of the men in swimming ashore saved a rifle. The whole party ran with all their might along the bank, but never more did we see our boat. The five performers in this catastrophe approached with penitential looks. They had nothing to say, nor had we. They bent down slowly, and touched our feet with both hands. "Ku kuata moendo"--"to catch the foot"--is their way of asking forgiveness. It was so like what we have seen a little child do--try to bring a dish unbidden to its papa, and letting it fall, burst into a cry of distress--that they were only sentenced to go back to the ship, get provisions, and, in the ensuing journey on foot, carry as much as they could, and thus make up for the loss of the boat. It was excessively annoying to lose all this property, and be deprived of the means of doing the work proposed, on the east and north of the Lake; but it would have been like crying over spilt milk to do otherwise now than make the best use we could of our legs. The men were sent back to the ship for provisions, cloth, and beads; and while they are gone, we may say a little of the Cataracts which proved so fatal to our boating plan. CHAPTER XIII. Dr. Livingstone's further explorations--Effects of slave-trade--Kirk's range--Ajawa migration--Native fishermen--Arab slave-crossing--Splendid highlands. The Murchison Cataracts of the Shire river begin in 15 degrees 20 minutes S., and end in lat. 15 degrees 55 minutes S., the difference of latitude is therefore 35 minutes. The river runs in this space nearly north and south, till we pass Malango; so the entire distance is under 40 miles. The principal Cataracts are five in number, and are called Pamofunda or Pamozima, Morewa, Panoreba or Tedzane, Pampatamanga, and Papekira. Besides these, three or four smaller ones might be mentioned; as, for instance, Mamvira, where in our ascent we first met the broken water, and heard that gushing sound which, from the interminable windings of some 200 miles of river below, we had come to believe the tranquil Shire could never make. While these lesser cataracts descend at an angle of scarcely 20 degrees, the greater fall 100 feet in 100 yards, at an angle of about 45 degrees, and one at an angle of 70 degrees. One part of Pamozima is perpendicular, and, when the river is in flood, causes a cloud of vapour to ascend, which, in our journey to Lake Shirwa, we saw at a distance of at least eight miles. The entire descent from the Upper to the Lower Shire is 1200 feet. Only on one spot in all that distance is the current moderate--namely, above Tedzane. The rest is all rapid, and much of it being only fifty or eighty yards wide, and rushing like a mill-race, it gives the impression of water-power, sufficient to drive all the mills in Manchester, running to waste. Pamofunda, or Pamozima, has a deep shady grove on its right bank. When we were walking alone through its dark shade, we were startled by a shocking smell like that of a dissecting- room; and on looking up saw dead bodies in mats suspended from the branches of the trees, a mode of burial somewhat similar to that which we subsequently saw practised by the Parsees in their "towers of silence" at Poonah, near Bombay. The name Pamozima means, "the departed spirits or gods"--a fit name for a place over which, according to the popular belief, the disembodied souls continually hover. The rock lowest down in the series is dark reddish-grey syenite. This seems to have been an upheaving agent, for the mica schists above it are much disturbed. Dark trappean rocks full of hornblende have in many places burst through these schists, and appear in nodules on the surface. The highest rock seen is a fine sandstone of closer grain than that at Tette, and quite metamorphosed where it comes into contact with the igneous rocks below it. It sometimes gives place to quartz and reddish clay schists, much baked by heat. This is the usual geological condition on the right bank of the Cataracts. On the other side we pass over masses of porphyritic trap, in contact with the same mica schists, and these probably give to the soil the great fertility we observed. The great body of the mountains is syenite. So much mica is washed into the river, that on looking attentively on the stream one sees myriads of particles floating and glancing in the sun; and this, too, even at low water. It was the 15th of August before the men returned from the ship, accompanied by Mr. Rae and the steward of the "Pioneer." They brought two oxen, one of which was instantly slaughtered to put courage into all hearts, and some bottles of wine, a present from Waller and Alington. We never carried wine before, but this was precious as an expression of kindheartedness on the part of the donors. If one attempted to carry either wine or spirits, as a beverage, he would require a whole troop of followers for nothing else. Our greatest luxury in travelling was tea or coffee. We never once carried sugar enough to last a journey, but coffee is always good, while the sugarless tea is only bearable, because of the unbearable gnawing feeling of want and sinking which ensues if we begin to travel in the mornings without something warm in the stomach. Our drink generally was water, and if cool, nothing can equal it in a hot climate. We usually carried a bottle of brandy rolled up in our blankets, but that was used only as a medicine; a spoonful in hot water before going to bed, to fend off a chill and fever. Spirits always do harm, if the fever has fairly begun; and it is probable that brandy-and- water has to answer for a good many of the deaths in Africa. Mr. Rae had made gratifying progress in screwing together the "Lady Nyassa." He had the zealous co-operation of three as fine steady workmen as ever handled tools; and, as they were noble specimens of English sailors, we would fain mention the names of men who are an honour to the British navy--John Reid, John Pennell, and Richard Wilson. The reader will excuse our doing so, but we desire to record how much they were esteemed, and how thankful we felt for their good behaviour. The weather was delightfully cool; and, with full confidence in those left behind, it was with light hearts we turned our faces north. Mr. Rae accompanied us a day in front; and, as all our party had earnestly advised that at least two Europeans should be associated together on the journey, the steward was at the last moment taken. Mr. Rae returned to get the "Lady Nyassa" ready for sea; and, as she drew less water than the "Pioneer," take her down to the ocean in October. One reason for taking the steward is worth recording. Both he and a man named King, {5} who, though only a leading stoker in the Navy, had been a promising student in the University of Aberdeen, had got into that weak bloodless-looking state which residence in the lowlands without much to do or think about often induces. The best thing for this is change and an active life. A couple of days' march only as far as the Mukuru-Madse, infused so much vigour into King that he was able to walk briskly back. Consideration for the steward's health led to his being selected for this northern journey, and the measure was so completely successful that it was often, in the hard march, a subject of regret that King had not been taken too. A removal of only a hundred yards is sometimes so beneficial that it ought in severe cases never to be omitted. Our object now was to get away to the N.N.W., proceed parallel with Lake Nyassa, but at a considerable distance west of it, and thus pass by the Mazitu or Zulus near its northern end without contact--ascertain whether any large river flowed into the Lake from the west--visit Lake Moelo, if time permitted, and collect information about the trade on the great slave route, which crosses the Lake at its southern end, and at Tsenga and Kota-kota. The Makololo were eager to travel fast, because they wanted to be back in time to hoe their fields before the rains, and also because their wives needed looking after. In going in the first instance N.E. from the uppermost Cataract, we followed in a measure the great bend of the river towards the foot of Mount Zomba. Here we had a view of its most imposing side, the west, with the plateau some 3000 feet high, stretching away to its south, and Mounts Chiradzuru and Mochiru towering aloft to the sky. From that goodly highland station, it was once hoped by the noble Mackenzie, who, for largeness of heart and loving disposition, really deserved to be called the "Bishop of Central Africa," that light and liberty would spread to all the interior. We still think it may be a centre for civilizing influences; for any one descending from these cool heights, and stepping into a boat on the Upper Shire, can sail three hundred miles without a check into the heart of Africa. We passed through a tract of country covered with mopane trees, where the hard baked soil refused to let the usual thick crops of grass grow; and here we came upon very many tracks of buffaloes, elephants, antelopes, and the spoor of one lion. An ox we drove along with us, as provision for the way, was sorely bitten by the tsetse. The effect of the bite was, as usual, quite apparent two days afterwards, in the general flaccidity of the muscles, the drooping ears, and looks of illness. It always excited our wonder that we, who were frequently much bitten too by the same insects, felt no harm from their attacks. Man shares the immunity of the wild animals. Finding a few people on the evening of the 20th of August, who were supporting a wretched existence on tamarinds and mice, we ascertained that there was no hope of our being able to buy food anywhere nearer than the Lakelet Pamalombe, where the Ajawa chief, Kainka, was now living; but that plenty could be found with the Maravi female chief, Nyango. We turned away north-westwards, and struck the stream Ribve-ribve, or Rivi- rivi, which rises in the Maravi range, and flows into the Shire. As the Rivi-rivi came from the N.W. we continued to travel along its banks, until we came to people who had successfully defended themselves against the hordes of the Ajawa. By employing the men of one village to go forward and explain who we were to the next, we managed to prevent the frightened inhabitants from considering us a fresh party of Ajawa, or of Portuguese slaving agents. Here they had cultivated maize, and were willing to sell, but no persuasion could induce them to give us guides to the chieftainess, Nyango. They evidently felt that we were not to be trusted; though, as we had to certify to our own character, our companions did not fail "to blow our own trumpet," with blasts in which modesty was quite out of the question. To allay suspicion, we had at last to refrain from mentioning the lady's name. It would be wearisome to repeat the names of the villages we passed on our way to the north-west. One was the largest we ever saw in Africa, and quite deserted, with the usual sad sight of many skeletons lying about. Another was called Tette. We know three places of this name, which fact shows it to be a native word; it seems to mean a place where the water rushes over rocks. A third village was called Chipanga (a great work), a name identical with the Shupanga of the Portuguese. This repetition of names may indicate that the same people first took these epithets in their traditional passage from north to south. At this season of the year the nights are still cold, and the people, having no crops to occupy their attention, do not stir out till long after the sun is up. At other times they are off to their fields before the day dawns, and the first sound one hears is the loud talking of men and women, in which they usually indulge in the dark to scare off beasts by the sound of the human voice. When no work is to be done, the first warning of approaching day is the hemp-smoker's loud ringing cough. Having been delayed one morning by some negotiation about guides, who were used chiefly to introduce us to other villages, we two whites walked a little way ahead, taking the direction of the stream. The men having been always able to find out our route by the prints of our shoes, we went on for a number of miles. This time, however, they lost our track, and failed to follow us. The path was well marked by elephants, hyenas, pallahs, and zebras, but for many a day no human foot had trod it. When the sun went down a deserted hamlet was reached, where we made comfortable beds for ourselves of grass. Firing muskets to attract the attention of those who have strayed is the usual resource in these cases. On this occasion the sound of firearms tended to mislead us; for, hearing shots next morning, a long weary march led us only to some native hunters, who had been shooting buffaloes. Returning to a small village, we met with some people who remembered our passing up to the Lake in the boat; they were as kind as they could be. The only food they possessed was tamarinds, prepared with ashes, and a little cowitch meal. The cowitch, as mentioned before, has a velvety brown covering of minute prickles, which, if touched, enter the pores of the skin and cause a painful tingling. The women in times of scarcity collect the pods, kindle a fire of grass over them to destroy the prickles, then steep the beans till they begin to sprout, wash them in pure water, and either boil them or pound them into meal, which resembles our bean-meal. This plant climbs up the long grass, and abounds in all reedy parts, and, though a plague to the traveller who touches its pods, it performs good service in times of famine by saving many a life from starvation. Its name here is Kitedzi. Having travelled at least twenty miles in search of our party that day, our rest on a mat in the best hut of the village was very sweet. We had dined the evening before on a pigeon each, and had eaten only a handful of kitedzi porridge this afternoon. The good wife of the village took a little corn which she had kept for seed, ground it after dark, and made it into porridge. This, and a cup of wild vegetables of a sweetish taste for a relish, a little boy brought in and put down, with several vigorous claps of his hands, in the manner which is esteemed polite, and which is strictly enjoined on all children. On the third day of separation, Akosanjere, the headman of this village, conducted us forward to our party who had gone on to Nseze, a district to the westward. This incident is mentioned, not for any interest it possesses, apart from the idea of the people it conveys. We were completely separated from our men for nearly three days, and had nothing wherewith to purchase food. The people were sorely pressed by famine and war, and their hospitality, poor as it was, did them great credit, and was most grateful to us. Our own men had become confused and wandered, but had done their utmost to find us; on our rejoining them, the ox was slain, and all, having been on short commons, rejoiced in this "day of slaughter." Akosanjere was, of course, rewarded to his heart's content. As we pursued our way, we came close up to a range of mountains, the most prominent peak of which is called Mvai. This is a great, bare, rounded block of granite shooting up from the rest of the chain. It and several other masses of rock are of a light grey colour, with white patches, as if of lichens; the sides and summits are generally thinly covered with rather scraggy trees. There are several other prominent peaks--one, for instance, still further north, called Chirobve. Each has a name, but we could never ascertain that there was an appellation which applied to the whole. This fact, and our wish to commemorate the name of Dr. Kirk, induced us afterwards, when we could not discover a particular peak mentioned to us formerly as Molomo-ao-koku, or Cock's-bill, to call the whole chain from the west of the Cataracts up to the north end of the Lake, "Kirk's Range." The part we slept at opposite Mvai was named Paudio, and was evidently a continuation of the district of one of our stations on the Shire, at which observations for latitude were formerly taken. Leaving Paudio, we had Kirk's Range close on our left and at least 3000 feet above us, and probably not less than 5000 feet above the sea. Far to our right extended a long green wooded country rising gradually up to a ridge, ornamented with several detached mountains, which bounded the Shire Valley. In front, northwards, lay a valley as rich and lovely as we ever saw anywhere, terminating at the mountains, which, stretched away some thirty miles beyond our range of vision and ended at Cape Maclear. The groups of trees had never been subjected to the landscape gardener's art; but had been cut down mercilessly, just as suited the convenience of the cultivator; yet the various combinations of open forest, sloping woodland, grassy lawns, and massive clumps of dark green foliage along the running streams, formed as beautiful a landscape as could be seen on the Thames. This valley is named Goa or Gova, and as we moved through it we found that what was smooth to the eye was very much furrowed by running streams winding round innumerable knolls. These little brooklets came down from the range on our left, and the water was deliciously cool. When we came abreast of the peak Chirobve, the people would no longer give us guides. They were afraid of their enemies, whose dwellings we now had on our east; and, proceeding without any one to lead us, or to introduce us to the inhabitants, we were perplexed by all the paths running zigzag across instead of along the valley. They had been made by the villagers going from the hamlets on the slopes to their gardens in the meadows below. To add to our difficulties, the rivulets and mountain- torrents had worn gullies some thirty or forty feet deep, with steep sides that could not be climbed except at certain points. The remaining inhabitants on the flank of the range when they saw strangers winding from side to side, and often attempting to cross these torrent beds at impossible places, screamed out their shrill war-alarm, and made the valley ring with their wild outcries. It was war, and war alone, and we were too deep down in the valley to make our voices heard in explanation. Fortunately, they had burned off the long grass to a great extent. It only here and there hid them from us. Selecting an open spot, we spent a night regarded by all around us as slave-hunters, but were undisturbed, though the usual way of treating an enemy in this part of the country is by night attack. The nights at the altitude of the valley were cool, the lowest temperature shown being 37 degrees; at 9 a.m. and 9 p.m. it was 58 degrees, about the average temperature of the day; at mid-day 82 degrees, and sunset 70 degrees. Our march was very much hindered by the imperfectly burned corn and grass stalks having fallen across the paths. To a reader in England this will seem a very small obstacle. But he must fancy the grass stems as thick as his little finger, and the corn-stalks like so many walkingsticks lying in one direction, and so supporting each other that one has to lift his feet up as when wading through deep high heather. The stems of grass showed the causes of certain explosions as loud as pistols, which are heard when the annual fires come roaring over the land. The heated air inside expanding bursts the stalk with a loud report, and strews the fragments on the ground. A very great deal of native corn had been cultivated here, and we saw buffaloes feeding in the deserted gardens, and some women, who ran away very much faster than the beasts did. On the 29th, seeing some people standing under a tree by a village, we sat down, and sent Masego, one of our party, to communicate. The headman, Matunda, came back with him, bearing a calabash with water for us. He said that all the people had fled from the Ajawa, who had only just desisted from their career of pillage on being paid five persons as a fine for some offence for which they had commenced the invasion. Matunda had plenty of grain to sell, and all the women were soon at work grinding it into meal. We secured an abundant supply, and four milk goats. The Manganja goat is of a very superior breed to the general African animal, being short in the legs and having a finely-shaped broad body. By promising the Makololo that, when we no longer needed the milk, they should have the goats to improve the breed of their own at home, they were induced to take the greatest possible care of both goats and kids in driving and pasturing. After leaving Matunda, we came to the end of the highland valley; and, before descending a steep declivity of a thousand feet towards the part which may be called the heel of the Lake, we had the bold mountains of Cape Maclear on our right, with the blue water at their base, the hills of Tsenga in the distance in front, and Kirk's Range on our left, stretching away northwards, and apparently becoming lower. As we came down into a fine rich undulating valley, many perennial streams running to the east from the hills on our left were crossed, while all those behind us on the higher ground seemed to unite in one named Lekue, which flowed into the Lake. After a long day's march in the valley of the Lake, where the temperature was very much higher than in that we had just left, we entered the village of Katosa, which is situated on the bank of a stream among gigantic timber trees, and found there a large party of Ajawa--Waiau, they called themselves--all armed with muskets. We sat down among them, and were soon called to the chiefs court, and presented with an ample mess of porridge, buffalo meat, and beer. Katosa was more frank than any Manganja chief we had met, and complimented us by saying that "we must be his 'Bazimo' (good spirits of his ancestors); for when he lived at Pamalombe, we lighted upon him from above--men the like of whom he had never seen before, and coming he knew not whence." He gave us one of his own large and clean huts to sleep in; and we may take this opportunity of saying that the impression we received, from our first journey on the hills among the villages of Chisunse, of the excessive dirtiness of the Manganja, was erroneous. This trait was confined to the cool highlands. Here crowds of men and women were observed to perform their ablutions daily in the stream that ran past their villages; and this we have observed elsewhere to be a common custom with both Manganja and Ajawa. Before we started on the morning of the 1st September, Katosa sent an enormous calabash of beer, containing at least three gallons, and then came and wished us to "stop a day and eat with him." On explaining to him the reasons for our haste, he said that he was in the way by which travellers usually passed, he never stopped them in their journeys, but would like to look at us for a day. On our promising to rest a little with him on our return, he gave us about two pecks of rice, and three guides to conduct us to a subordinate female chief, Nkwinda, living on the borders of the Lake in front. The Ajawa, from having taken slaves down to Quillimane and Mosambique, knew more of us than Katosa did. Their muskets were carefully polished, and never out of these slaver's hands for a moment, though in the chiefs presence. We naturally felt apprehensive that we should never see Katosa again. A migratory afflatus seems to have come over the Ajawa tribes. Wars among themselves, for the supply of the Coast slave-trade, are said to have first set them in motion. The usual way in which they have advanced among the Manganja has been by slave-trading in a friendly way. Then, professing to wish to live as subjects, they have been welcomed as guests, and the Manganja, being great agriculturists, have been able to support considerable bodies of these visitors for a time. When the provisions became scarce, the guests began to steal from the fields; quarrels arose in consequence, and, the Ajawa having firearms, their hosts got the worst of it, and were expelled from village after village, and out of their own country. The Manganja were quite as bad in regard to slave-trading as the Ajawa, but had less enterprise, and were much more fond of the home pursuits of spinning, weaving, smelting iron, and cultivating the soil, than of foreign travel. The Ajawa had little of a mechanical turn, and not much love for agriculture, but were very keen traders and travellers. This party seemed to us to be in the first or friendly stage of intercourse with Katosa; and, as we afterwards found, he was fully alive to the danger. Our course was shaped towards the N.W., and we traversed a large fertile tract of rich soil extensively cultivated, but dotted with many gigantic thorny acacias which had proved too large for the little axes of the cultivators. After leaving Nkwinda, the first village we spent a night at in the district Ngabi was that of Chembi, and it had a stockade around it. The Azitu or Mazitu were said to be ravaging the country to the west of us, and no one was safe except in a stockade. We have so often, in travelling, heard of war in front, that we paid little attention to the assertion of Chembi, that the whole country to the N.W. was in flight before these Mazitu, under a chief with the rather formidable name of Mowhiriwhiri; we therefore resolved to go on to Chinsamba's, still further in the same direction, and hear what he said about it. The only instrument of husbandry here is the short-handled hoe; and about Tette the labour of tilling the soil, as represented in the woodcut, is performed entirely by female slaves. On the West Coast a double-handled hoe is employed. Here the small hoe is seen in the hands of both men and women. In other parts of Africa a hoe with a handle four feet long is used, but the plough is quite unknown. In illustration of the manner in which the native knowledge of agriculture strikes an honest intelligent observer, it may be mentioned that the first time good Bishop Mackenzie beheld how well the fields of the Manganja were cultivated on the hills, he remarked to Dr. Livingstone, then his fellow-traveller--"When telling the people in England what were my objects in going out to Africa, I stated that, among other things, I meant to teach these people agriculture; but I now see that they know far more about it than I do." This, we take it, was an honest straightforward testimony, and we believe that every unprejudiced witness, who has an opportunity of forming an opinion of Africans who have never been debased by slavery, will rank them very much higher in the scale of intelligence, industry, and manhood, than others who know them only in a state of degradation. On coming near Chinsamba's two stockades, on the banks of the Lintipe, we were told that the Mazitu had been repulsed there the day before, and we had evidence of the truth of the report of the attack in the sad sight of the bodies of the slain. The Zulus had taken off large numbers of women laden with corn; and, when driven back, had cut off the ears of a male prisoner, as a sort of credential that he had been with the Mazitu, and with grim humour sent him to tell Chinsamba "to take good care of the corn in the stockades, for they meant to return for it in a month or two." Chinsamba's people were drumming with might and main on our arrival, to express their joy at their deliverance from the Mazitu. The drum is the chief instrument of music among the Manganja, and with it they express both their joy and grief. They excel in beating time. Chinsamba called us into a very large hut, and presented us with a huge basket of beer. The glare of sunlight from which we had come enabled him, in diplomatic fashion, to have a good view of us before our eyes became enough accustomed to the dark inside to see him. He has a Jewish cast of countenance, or rather the ancient Assyrian face, as seen in the monuments brought to the British Museum by Mr. Layard. This form of face is very common in this country, and leads to the belief that the true type of the negro is not that met on the West Coast, from which most people have derived their ideas of the African. Chinsamba had many Abisa or Babisa in his stockade, and it was chiefly by the help of their muskets that he had repulsed the Mazitu: these Babisa are great travellers and traders. We liked Chinsamba very well, and found that he was decidedly opposed to our risking our lives by going further to the N.W. The Mazitu were believed to occupy all the hills in that direction, so we spent the 4th of September with him. It is rather a minute thing to mention, and it will only be understood by those who have children of their own, but the cries of the little ones, in their infant sorrows, are the same in tone, at different ages, here as all over the world. We have been perpetually reminded of home and family by the wailings which were once familiar to parental ears and heart, and felt thankful that to the sorrows of childhood our children would never have superadded the heartrending woes of the slave-trade. Taking Chinsamba's advice to avoid the Mazitu in their marauding, we started on the 5th September away to the N.E., and passed mile after mile of native cornfields, with an occasional cotton-patch. After a long march, we passed over a waterless plain about N.N.W. of the hills of Tsenga to a village on the Lake, and thence up its shores to Chitanda. The banks of the Lake were now crowded with fugitives, who had collected there for the poor protection which the reeds afforded. For miles along the water's edge was one continuous village of temporary huts. The people had brought a little corn with them; but they said, "What shall we eat when that is done? When we plant corn, the wild beasts (Zinyama, as they call the Mazitu) come and take it. When we plant cassava, they do the same. How are we to live?" A poor blind woman, thinking we were Mazitu, rushed off in front of us with outspread arms, lifting the feet high, in the manner peculiar to those who have lost their sight, and jumped into the reeds of a stream for safety. In our way along the shores we crossed several running rivulets of clear cold water, which, from having reeds at their confluences, had not been noticed in our previous exploration in the boat. One of these was called Mokola, and another had a strong odour of sulphuretted hydrogen. We reached Molamba on the 8th September, and found our old acquaintance, Nkomo, there still. One of the advantages of travelling along the shores of the Lake was, that we could bathe anywhere in its clear fresh water. To us, who had been obliged so often to restrain our inclination in the Zambesi and Shire for fear of crocodiles, this was pleasant beyond measure. The water now was of the same temperature as it was on our former visit, or 72 degrees Fahr. The immense depth of the Lake prevents the rays of the sun from raising the temperature as high as that of the Shire and Zambesi; and the crocodiles, having always clear water in the Lake, and abundance of fish, rarely attack man; many of these reptiles could be seen basking on the rocks. A day's march beyond Molamba brought us to the lakelet Chia, which lies parallel with the Lake. It is three or four miles long, by from one to one and a half broad, and communicates with the Lake by an arm of good depth, but with some rocks in it. As we passed up between the Lake and the eastern shore of this lakelet, we did not see any streams flowing into it. It is quite remarkable for the abundance of fish; and we saw upwards of fifty large canoes engaged in the fishery, which is carried on by means of hand-nets with side-frame poles about seven feet long. These nets are nearly identical with those now in use in Normandy--the difference being that the African net has a piece of stick lashed across the handle-ends of the side poles to keep them steady, which is a great improvement. The fish must be very abundant to be scooped out of the water in such quantities as we saw, and by so many canoes. There is quite a trade here in dried fish. The country around is elevated, undulating, and very extensively planted with cassava. The hoe in use has a handle of four feet in length, and the iron part is exactly of the same form as that in the country of the Bechuanas. The baskets here, which are so closely woven together as to hold beer, are the same with those employed to hold milk in Kaffirland--a thousand miles distant. Marching on foot is peculiarly conducive to meditation--one is glad of any subject to occupy the mind, and relieve the monotony of the weary treadmill-like trudge-trudging. This Chia net brought to our mind that the smith's bellows made here of a goatskin bag, with sticks along the open ends, are the same as those in use in the Bechuana country far to the south-west. These, with the long-handled hoe, may only show that each successive horde from north to south took inventions with it from the same original source. Where that source may have been is probably indicated by another pair of bellows, which we observed below the Victoria Falls, being found in Central India and among the Gipsies of Europe. Men in remote times may have had more highly-developed instincts, which enabled them to avoid or use poisons; but the late Archbishop Whately has proved, that wholly untaught savages never could invent anything, or even subsist at all. Abundant corroboration of his arguments is met with in this country, where the natives require but little in the way of clothing, and have remarkably hardy stomachs. Although possessing a knowledge of all the edible roots and fruits in the country, having hoes to dig with, and spears, bows, and arrows to kill the game,--we have seen that, notwithstanding all these appliances and means to boot, they have perished of absolute starvation. The art of making fire is the same in India as in Africa. The smelting furnaces, for reducing iron and copper from the ores, are also similar. Yellow haematite, which bears not the smallest resemblance either in colour or weight to the metal, is employed near Kolobeng for the production of iron. Malachite, the precious green stone used in civilized life for vases, would never be suspected by the uninstructed to be a rich ore of copper, and yet it is extensively smelted for rings and other ornaments in the heart of Africa. A copper bar of native manufacture four feet long was offered to us for sale at Chinsamba's. These arts are monuments attesting the fact, that some instruction from above must at some time or other have been supplied to mankind; and, as Archbishop Whately says, "the most probable conclusion is, that man when first created, or very shortly afterwards, was advanced, by the Creator Himself, to a state above that of a mere savage." The argument for an original revelation to man, though quite independent of the Bible history, tends to confirm that history. It is of the same nature with this, that man could not have _made_ himself, and therefore must have had a Divine _Creator_. Mankind could not, in the first instance, have _civilized_ themselves, and therefore must have had a superhuman _Instructor_. In connection with this subject, it is remarkable that throughout successive generations no change has taken place in the form of the various inventions. Hammers, tongs, hoes, axes, adzes, handles to them; needles, bows and arrows, with the mode of feathering the latter; spears, for killing game, with spear-heads having what is termed "dish" on both sides to give them, when thrown, the rotatory motion of rifle-balls; the arts of spinning and weaving, with that of pounding and steeping the inner bark of a tree till it serves as clothing; millstones for grinding corn into meal; the manufacture of the same kind of pots or _chatties_ as in India; the art of cooking, of brewing beer and straining it as was done in ancient Egypt; fish-hooks, fishing and hunting nets, fish-baskets, and weirs, the same as in the Highlands of Scotland; traps for catching animals, etc., etc.,--have all been so very permanent from age to age, and some of them of identical patterns are so widely spread over the globe, as to render it probable that they were all, at least in some degree, derived from one Source. The African traditions, which seem possessed of the same unchangeability as the arts to which they relate, like those of all other nations refer their origin to a superior Being. And it is much more reasonable to receive the hints given in Genesis, concerning direct instruction from God to our first parents or their children in religious or moral duty, and probably in the knowledge of the arts of life, {6} than to give credence to the theory that untaught savage man subsisted in a state which would prove fatal to all his descendants, and that in such helpless state he made many inventions which most of his progeny retained, but never improved upon during some thirty centuries. We crossed in canoes the arm of the Lake, which joins Chia to Nyassa, and spent the night on its northern bank. The whole country adjacent to the Lake, from this point up to Kota-kota Bay, is densely peopled by thousands who have fled from the forays of the Mazitu in hopes of protection from the Arabs who live there. In three running rivulets we saw the _Shuare_ palm, and an oil palm which is much inferior to that on the West Coast. Though somewhat similar in appearance, the fruit is not much larger than hazel-nuts, and the people do not use them, on account of the small quantity of oil which they afford. The idea of using oil for light never seems to have entered the African mind. Here a bundle of split and dried bamboo, tied together with creeping plants, as thick as a man's body, and about twenty feet in length, is employed in the canoes as a torch to attract the fish at night. It would be considered a piece of the most wasteful extravagance to burn the oil they obtain from the castor-oil bean and other seeds, and also from certain fish, or in fact to do anything with it but anoint their heads and bodies. We arrived at Kota-kota Bay in the afternoon of the 10th September, 1863; and sat down under a magnificent wild fig-tree with leaves ten inches long, by five broad, about a quarter of a mile from the village of Juma ben Saidi, and Yakobe ben Arame, whom we had met on the River Kaombe, a little north of this, in our first exploration of the Lake. We had rested but a short time when Juma, who is evidently the chief person here, followed by about fifty people, came to salute us and to invite us to take up our quarters in his village. The hut which, by mistake, was offered, was so small and dirty, that we preferred sleeping in an open space a few hundred yards off. Juma afterwards apologized for the mistake, and presented us with rice, meal, sugar-cane, and a piece of malachite. We returned his visit on the following day, and found him engaged in building a dhow or Arab vessel, to replace one which he said had been wrecked. This new one was fifty feet long, twelve feet broad, and five feet deep. The planks were of a wood like teak, here called Timbati, and the timbers of a closer grained wood called Msoro. The sight of this dhow gave us a hint which, had we previously received it, would have prevented our attempting to carry a vessel of iron past the Cataracts. The trees around Katosa's village were Timbati, and they would have yielded planks fifty feet long and thirty inches broad. With a few native carpenters a good vessel could be built on the Lake nearly as quickly as one could be carried past the Cataracts, and at a vastly less cost. Juma said that no money would induce him to part with this dhow. He was very busy in transporting slaves across the Lake by means of two boats, which we saw returning from a trip in the afternoon. As he did not know of our intention to visit him, we came upon several gangs of stout young men slaves, each secured by the neck to one common chain, waiting for exportation, and several more in slave-sticks. These were all civilly removed before our interview was over, because Juma knew that we did not relish the sight. When we met the same Arabs in 1861, they had but few attendants: according to their own account, they had now, in the village and adjacent country, 1500 souls. It is certain that tens of thousands had flocked to them for protection, and all their power and influence must be attributed to the possession of guns and gunpowder. This crowding of refugees to any point where there is a hope for security for life and property is very common in this region, and the knowledge of it made our hopes beat high for the success of a peaceful Mission on the shores of the Lake. The rate, however, in which the people here will perish by the next famine, or be exported by Juma and others, will, we fear, depopulate those parts which we have just described as crowded with people. Hunger will ere long compel them to sell each other. An intelligent man complained to us of the Arabs often seizing slaves, to whom they took a fancy, without the formality of purchase; but the price is so low--from two to four yards of calico--that one can scarcely think this seizure and exportation without payment worth their while. The boats were in constant employment, and, curiously enough, Ben Habib, whom we met at Linyanti in 1855, had been taken across the Lake, the day before our arrival at this Bay, on his way from Sesheke to Kilwa, and we became acquainted with a native servant of the Arabs, called Selele Saidallah, who could speak the Makololo language pretty fairly from having once spent some months in the Barotse Valley. From boyhood upwards we have been accustomed, from time to time, to read in books of travels about the great advances annually made by Mohammedanism in Africa. The rate at which this religion spreads was said to be so rapid, that in after days, in our own pretty extensive travels, we have constantly been on the look out for the advancing wave from North to South, which, it was prophesied, would soon reduce the entire continent to the faith of the false prophet. The only foundation that we can discover for the assertions referred to, and for others of more recent date, is the fact that in a remote corner of North-Western Africa the Fulahs, and Mandingoes, and some others in Northern Africa, as mentioned by Dr. Barth, have made conquests of territory; but even they care so very little for the extension of their faith, that after the conquest no pains whatever are taken to indoctrinate the adults of the tribe. This is in exact accordance with the impression we have received from our intercourse with Mohammedans and Christians. The followers of Christ alone are anxious to propagate their faith. A _quasi_ philanthropist would certainly never need to recommend the followers of Islam, whom we have met, to restrain their benevolence by preaching that "Charity should begin at home." Though Selele and his companions were bound to their masters by domestic ties, the only new idea they had imbibed from Mohammedanism was, that it would be wrong to eat meat killed by other people. They thought it would be "unlucky." Just as the inhabitants of Kolobeng, before being taught the requirements of Christianity, refrained from hoeing their gardens on Sundays, lest they should reap an unlucky crop. So far as we could learn, no efforts had been made to convert the natives, though these two Arabs, and about a dozen half-castes, had been in the country for many years; and judging from our experience with a dozen Mohammedans in our employ at high wages for sixteen months, the Africans would be the better men in proportion as they retained their native faith. This may appear only a harsh judgment from a mind imbued with Christian prejudices; but without any pretention to that impartiality, which leaves it doubtful to which side the affections lean, the truth may be fairly stated by one who viewed all Mohammedans and Africans with the sincerest good will. Our twelve Mohammedans from Johanna were the least open of any of our party to impression from kindness. A marked difference in general conduct was apparent. The Makololo, and other natives of the country, whom we had with us, invariably shared with each other the food they had cooked, but the Johanna men partook of their meals at a distance. This, at first, we attributed to their Moslem prejudices; but when they saw the cooking process of the others nearly complete, they came, sat beside them, and ate the portion offered without ever remembering to return the compliment when their own turn came to be generous. The Makololo and the others grumbled at their greediness, yet always followed the common custom of Africans of sharing their food with all who sit around them. What vexed us most in the Johanna men was their indifference to the welfare of each other. Once, when they were all coming to the ship after sleeping ashore, one of them walked into the water with the intention of swimming off to the boat, and while yet hardly up to his knees was seized by a horrid crocodile and dragged under; the poor fellow gave a shriek, and held up his hand for aid, but none of his countrymen stirred to his assistance, and he was never seen again. On asking his brother-in-law why he did not help him, he replied, "Well, no one told him to go into the water. It was his own fault that he was killed." The Makololo on the other hand rescued a woman at Senna by entering the water, and taking her out of the crocodile's mouth. It is not assumed that their religion had much to do in the matter. Many Mohammedans might contrast favourably with indifferent Christians; but, so far as our experience in East Africa goes, the moral tone of the follower of Mahomed is pitched at a lower key than that of the untutored African. The ancient zeal for propagating the tenets of the Koran has evaporated, and been replaced by the most intense selfishness and grossest sensuality. The only known efforts made by Mohammedans, namely, those in the North-West and North of the continent, are so linked with the acquisition of power and plunder, as not to deserve the name of religious propagandism; and the only religion that now makes proselytes is that of Jesus Christ. To those who are capable of taking a comprehensive view of this subject, nothing can be adduced of more telling significance than the well-attested fact, that while the Mohammedans, Fulahs, and others towards Central Africa, make a few proselytes by a process which gratifies their own covetousness, three small sections of the Christian converts, the Africans in the South, in the West Indies, and on the West Coast of Africa actually contribute for the support and spread of their religion upwards of 15,000 pounds annually. {7} That religion which so far overcomes the selfishness of the human heart must be Divine. Leaving Kota-kota Bay, we turned away due West on the great slave route to Katanga's and Cazembe's country in Londa. Juma lent us his servant, Selele, to lead us the first day's march. He said that the traders from Kilwa and Iboe cross the Lake either at this bay, or at Tsenga, or at the southern end of the Lake; and that wherever they may cross they all go by this path to the interior. They have slaves with them to carry their goods, and when they reach a spot where they can easily buy others, they settle down and begin the traffic, and at once cultivate grain. So much of the land lies waste, that no objection is ever made to any one taking possession of as much as he needs; they can purchase a field of cassava for their present wants for very little, and they continue trading in the country for two or three years, and giving what weight their muskets possess to the chief who is most liberal to them. The first day's march led us over a rich, well-cultivated plain. This was succeeded by highlands, undulating, stony, and covered with scraggy trees. Many banks of well rounded shingle appear. The disintegration of the rocks, now going on, does not round off the angles; they are split up by the heat and cold into angular fragments. On these high downs we crossed the River Kaombe. Beyond it we came among the upland vegetation--rhododendrons, proteas, the masuko, and molompi. At the foot of the hill, Kasuko-suko, we found the River Bua running north to join the Kaombe. We had to go a mile out of our way for a ford; the stream is deep enough in parts for hippopotami. The various streams not previously noticed, crossed in this journey, had before this led us to the conclusion, independently of the testimony of the natives, that no large river ran into the north end of the Lake. No such affluent was needed to account for the Shire's perennial flow. On September 15th we reached the top of the ascent which, from its many ups and downs, had often made us puff and blow as if broken-winded. The water of the streams we crossed was deliciously cold, and now that we had gained the summit at Ndonda, where the boiling-point of water showed an altitude of 3440 feet above the sea, the air was delightful. Looking back we had a magnificent view of the Lake, but the haze prevented our seeing beyond the sea horizon. The scene was beautiful, but it was impossible to dissociate the lovely landscape whose hills and dales had so sorely tried our legs and lungs, from the sad fact that this was part of the great slave route now actually in use. By this road many "Ten thousands" have here seen "the Sea," "the Sea," but with sinking hearts; for the universal idea among the captive gangs is, that they are going to be fattened and eaten by the whites. They cannot of course be so much shocked as we should be--their sensibilities are far from fine, their feelings are more obtuse than ours--in fact, "the live eels are used to being skinned," perhaps they rather like it. We who are not philosophic, blessed the Providence which at Thermopylae in ancient days rolled back the tide of Eastern conquest from the West, and so guided the course of events that light and liberty and gospel truth spread to our distant isle, and emancipating our race freed them from the fear of ever again having to climb fatiguing heights and descend wearisome hollows in a slave-gang, as we suppose they did when the fair English youths were exposed for sale at Rome. Looking westwards we perceived that, what from below had the appearance of mountains, was only the edge of a table-land which, though at first undulating, soon became smooth, and sloped towards the centre of the country. To the south a prominent mountain called Chipata, and to the south-west another named Ngalla, by which the Bua is said to rise, gave character to the landscape. In the north, masses of hills prevented our seeing more than eight or ten miles. The air which was so exhilarating to Europeans had an opposite effect on five men who had been born and reared in the malaria of the Delta of the Zambesi. No sooner did they reach the edge of the plateau at Ndonda, than they lay down prostrate, and complained of pains all over them. The temperature was not much lower than that on the shores of the Lake below, 76 degrees being the mean temperature of the day, 52 degrees the lowest, and 82 degrees the highest during the twenty-four hours; at the Lake it was about l0 degrees higher. Of the symptoms they complained of--pains everywhere--nothing could be made. And yet it was evident that they had good reason for saying that they were ill. They scarified almost every part of their bodies as a remedial measure; medicines, administered on the supposition that their malady was the effect of a sudden chill, had no effect, and in two days one of them actually died in consequence of, as far as we could judge, a change from a malarious to a purer and more rarefied atmosphere. As we were on the slave route, we found the people more churlish than usual. On being expostulated with about it, they replied, "We have been made wary by those who come to buy slaves." The calamity of death having befallen our party, seemed, however, to awaken their sympathies. They pointed out their usual burying-place, lent us hoes, and helped to make the grave. When we offered to pay all expenses, they showed that they had not done these friendly offices without fully appreciating their value; for they enumerated the use of the hut, the mat on which the deceased had lain, the hoes, the labour, and the medicine which they had scattered over the place to make him rest in peace. The primitive African faith seems to be that there is one Almighty Maker of heaven and earth; that he has given the various plants of earth to man to be employed as mediators between him and the spirit world, where all who have ever been born and died continue to live; that sin consists in offences against their fellow-men, either here or among the departed, and that death is often a punishment of guilt, such as witchcraft. Their idea of moral evil differs in no respect from ours, but they consider themselves amenable only to inferior beings, not to the Supreme. Evil- speaking--lying--hatred--disobedience to parents--neglect of them--are said by the intelligent to have been all known to be sin, as well as theft, murder, or adultery, before they knew aught of Europeans or their teaching. The only new addition to their moral code is, that it is wrong to have more wives than one. This, until the arrival of Europeans, never entered into their minds even as a doubt. Everything not to be accounted for by common causes, whether of good or evil, is ascribed to the Deity. Men are inseparably connected with the spirits of the departed, and when one dies he is believed to have joined the hosts of his ancestors. All the Africans we have met with are as firmly persuaded of their future existence as of their present life. And we have found none in whom the belief in the Supreme Being was not rooted. He is so invariably referred to as the Author of everything supernatural, that, unless one is ignorant of their language, he cannot fail to notice this prominent feature of their faith. When they pass into the unseen world, they do not seem to be possessed with the fear of punishment. The utensils placed upon the grave are all broken as if to indicate that they will never be used by the departed again. The body is put into the grave in a sitting posture, and the hands are folded in front. In some parts of the country there are tales which we could translate into faint glimmerings of a resurrection; but whether these fables, handed down from age to age, convey that meaning to the natives themselves we cannot tell. The true tradition of faith is asserted to be "though a man die he will live again;" the false that when he dies he is dead for ever. CHAPTER XIV. Important geographical discoveries in the Wabisa countries--Cruelty of the slave-trade--The Mazitu--Serious illness of Dr. Livingstone--Return to the ship. In our course westwards, we at first passed over a gently undulating country, with a reddish clayey soil, which, from the heavy crops, appeared to be very fertile. Many rivulets were crossed, some running southwards into the Bua, and others northwards into the Loangwa, a river which we formerly saw flowing into the Lake. Further on, the water was chiefly found in pools and wells. Then still further, in the same direction, some watercourses were said to flow into that same "Loangwa of the Lake," and others into the Loangwa, which flows to the south-west, and enters the Zambesi at Zumbo, and is here called the "Loangwa of the Maravi." The trees were in general scraggy, and covered, exactly as they are in the damp climate of the Coast, with lichens, resembling orchilla- weed. The maize, which loves rather a damp soil, had been planted on ridges to allow the superfluous moisture to run off. Everything indicated a very humid climate, and the people warned us that, as the rains were near, we were likely to be prevented from returning by the country becoming flooded and impassable. Villages, as usual encircled by euphorbia hedges, were numerous, and a great deal of grain had been cultivated around them. Domestic fowls, in plenty, and pigeons with dovecots like those in Egypt were seen. The people call themselves Matumboka, but the only difference between them and the rest of the Manganja is in the mode of tattooing the face. Their language is the same. Their distinctive mark consists of four tattooed lines diverging from the point between the eyebrows, which, in frowning, the muscles form into a furrow. The other lines of tattooing, as in all Manganja, run in long seams, which crossing each other at certain angles form a great number of triangular spaces on the breast, back, arms, and thighs. The cuticle is divided by a knife, and the edges of the incision are drawn apart till the true skin appears. By a repetition of this process, lines of raised cicatrices are formed, which are thought to give beauty, no matter how much pain the fashion gives. It would not be worth while to advert for a moment to the routine of travelling, or the little difficulties that beset every one who attempts to penetrate into a new country, were it not to show the great source of the power here possessed by slave-traders. We needed help in carrying our goods, while our men were ill, though still able to march. When we had settled with others for hire, we were often told, that the dealers in men had taken possession of some, and had taken them away altogether. Other things led us to believe that the slave-traders carry matters with a high hand; and no wonder, for the possession of gunpowder gives them almost absolute power. The mode by which tribes armed with bows and arrows carry on warfare, or defend themselves, is by ambuscade. They never come out in open fight, but wait for the enemy ensconced behind trees, or in the long grass of the country, and shoot at him unawares. Consequently, if men come against them with firearms, when, as is usually the case, the long grass is all burned off, the tribe attacked are as helpless as a wooden ship, possessing only signal guns, would be before an iron-clad steamer. The time of year selected for this kind of warfare is nearly always that in which the grass is actually burnt off, or is so dry as readily to take fire. The dry grass in Africa looks more like ripe English wheat late in the autumn, than anything else we can compare it to. Let us imagine an English village standing in a field of this sort, bounded only by the horizon, and enemies setting fire to a line of a mile or two, by running along with bunches of burning straw in their hands, touching here and there the inflammable material,--the wind blowing towards the doomed village--the inhabitants with only one or two old muskets, but ten to one no powder,--the long line of flames, leaping thirty feet into the air with dense masses of black smoke--and pieces of charred grass falling down in showers. Would not the stoutest English villager, armed only with the bow and arrow against the enemy's musket, quail at the idea of breaking through that wall of fire? When at a distance, we once saw a scene like this, and had the charred grass, literally as thick as flakes of black snow, falling around us, there was no difficulty in understanding the secret of the slave-trader's power. On the 21st of September, we arrived at the village of the chief Muasi, or Muazi; it is surrounded by a stockade, and embowered in very tall euphorbia-trees; their height, thirty or forty feet, shows that it has been inhabited for at least one generation. A visitation of disease or death causes the headmen to change the site of their villages, and plant new hedges; but, though Muazi has suffered from the attacks of the Mazitu, he has evidently clung to his birthplace. The village is situated about two miles south-west of a high hill called Kasungu, which gives the name to a district extending to the Loangwa of the Maravi. Several other detached granite hills have been shot up on the plain, and many stockaded villages, all owing allegiance to Muazi, are scattered over it. On our arrival, the chief was sitting in the smooth shady place, called Boalo, where all public business is transacted, with about two hundred men and boys around him. We paid our guides with due ostentation. Masiko, the tallest of our party, measured off the fathom of cloth agreed upon, and made it appear as long as possible, by facing round to the crowd, and cutting a few inches beyond what his outstretched arms could reach, to show that there was no deception. This was by way of advertisement. The people are mightily gratified at having a tall fellow to measure the cloth for them. It pleases them even better than cutting it by a tape-line--though very few men of six feet high can measure off their own length with their outstretched arms. Here, where Arab traders have been, the cubit called _mokono_, or elbow, begins to take the place of the fathom in use further south. The measure is taken from the point of the bent elbow to the end of the middle finger. We found, on visiting Muazi on the following day, that he was as frank and straightforward as could reasonably be expected. He did not wish us to go to the N.N.W., because he carries on a considerable trade in ivory there. We were anxious to get off the slave route, to people not visited before by traders; but Muazi naturally feared, that if we went to what is said to be a well-watered country, abounding in elephants, we might relieve him of the ivory which he now obtains at a cheap rate, and sells to the slave-traders as they pass Kasungu to the east; but at last he consented, warning us that "great difficulty would be experienced in obtaining food--a district had been depopulated by slave wars--and a night or two must be spent in it; but he would give us good guides, who would go three days with us, before turning, and then further progress must depend on ourselves." Some of our men having been ill ever since we mounted this highland plain, we remained two days with Muazi. A herd of fine cattle showed that no tsetse existed in the district. They had the Indian hump, and were very fat, and very tame. The boys rode on both cows and bulls without fear, and the animals were so fat and lazy, that the old ones only made a feeble attempt to kick their young tormentors. Muazi never milks the cows; he complained that, but for the Mazitu having formerly captured some, he should now have had very many. They wander over the country at large, and certainly thrive. After leaving Muazi's, we passed over a flat country sparsely covered with the scraggy upland trees, but brightened with many fine flowers. The grass was short, reaching no higher than the knee, and growing in tufts with bare spaces between, though the trees were draped with many various lichens, and showed a moist climate. A high and very sharp wind blew over the flats; its piercing keenness was not caused by low temperature, for the thermometer stood at 80 degrees. We were now on the sources of the Loangwa of the Maravi, which enters the Zambesi at Zumbo, and were struck by the great resemblance which the boggy and sedgy streams here presented to the sources of the Leeba, an affluent of the Zambesi formerly observed in Londa, and of the Kasai, which some believe to be the principal branch of the Congo or Zaire. We had taken pains to ascertain from the travelled Babisa and Arabs as much as possible about the country in front, which, from the lessening time we had at our disposal, we feared we could scarcely reach, and had heard a good deal of a small lake called Bemba. As we proceeded west, we passed over the sources not only of the Loangwa, but of another stream, called Moitawa or Moitala, which was represented to be the main feeder of Lake Bemba. This would be of little importance, but for the fact that the considerable river Luapula, or Loapula is said to flow out of Bemba to the westward, and then to spread out into another and much larger lake, named Moero, or Moelo. Flowing still further in the same direction, the Loapula forms Lake Mofue, or Mofu, and after this it is said to pass the town of Cazembe, bend to the north, and enter Lake Tanganyika. Whither the water went after it entered the last lake, no one would venture an assertion. But that the course indicated is the true watershed of that part of the country, we believe from the unvarying opinion of native travellers. There could be no doubt that our informants had been in the country beyond Cazembe's, for they knew and described chiefs whom we afterwards met about thirty-five or forty miles west of his town. The Lualaba is said to flow into the Loapula--and when, for the sake of testing the accuracy of the travelled, it was asserted that all the water of the region round the town of Cazembe flowed into the Luambadzi, or Luambezi (Zambesi), they remarked with a smile, "He says, that the Loapula flows into the Zambesi--did you ever hear such nonsense?" or words to that effect. We were forced to admit, that according to native accounts, our previous impression of the Zambesi's draining the country about Cazembe's had been a mistake. Their geographical opinions are now only stated, without any further comment than that the itinerary given by the Arabs and others shows that the Loapula is twice crossed on the way to Cazembe's; and we may add that we have never found any difficulty from the alleged incapacity of the negro to tell which way a river flows. The boiling-point of water showed a descent, from the edge of the plateau to our furthest point west, of 170 feet; but this can only be considered as an approximation, and no dependence could have been placed on it, had we not had the courses of the streams to confirm this rather rough mode of ascertaining altitudes. The slope, as shown by the watershed, was to the "Loangwa of the Maravi," and towards the Moitala, or south-west, west, and north-west. After we leave the feeders of Lake Nyassa, the water drains towards the centre of the continent. The course of the Kasai, a river seen during Dr. Livingstone's journey to the West Coast, and its feeders was to the north-east, or somewhat in the same direction. Whether the water thus drained off finds its way out by the Congo, or by the Nile, has not yet been ascertained. Some parts of the continent have been said to resemble an inverted dinner-plate. This portion seems more of the shape, if shape it has, of a wide-awake hat, with the crown a little depressed. The altitude of the brim in some parts is considerable; in others, as at Tette and the bottom of Murchison's Cataracts, it is so small that it could be ascertained only by eliminating the daily variations of the barometer, by simultaneous observations on the Coast, and at points some two or three hundred miles inland. So long as African rivers remain in what we may call the brim, they present no obstructions; but no sooner do they emerge from the higher lands than their utility is impaired by cataracts. The low lying belt is very irregular. At times sloping up in the manner of the rim of an inverted dinner-plate--while in other cases, a high ridge rises near the sea, to be succeeded by a lower district inland before we reach the central plateau. The breadth of the low lands is sometimes as much as three hundred miles, and that breadth determines the limits of navigation from the seaward. We made three long marches beyond Muazi's in a north-westerly direction; the people were civil enough, but refused to sell us any food. We were travelling too fast, they said; in fact, they were startled, and before they recovered their surprise, we were obliged to depart. We suspected that Muazi had sent them orders to refuse us food, that we might thus be prevented from going into the depopulated district; but this may have been mere suspicion, the result of our own uncharitable feelings. We spent one night at Machambwe's village, and another at Chimbuzi's. It is seldom that we can find the headman on first entering a village. He gets out of the way till he has heard all about the strangers, or he is actually out in the fields looking after his farms. We once thought that when the headman came in from a visit of inspection, with his spear, bow and arrows, they had been all taken up for the occasion, and that he had all the while been hidden in some hut slily watching till he heard that the strangers might be trusted; but on listening to the details given by these men of the appearances of the crops at different parts, and the astonishing minuteness of the speakers' topography, we were persuaded that in some cases we were wrong, and felt rather humiliated. Every knoll, hill, mountain, and every peak on a range has a name; and so has every watercourse, dell, and plain. In fact, every feature and portion of the country is so minutely distinguished by appropriate names, that it would take a lifetime to decipher their meaning. It is not the want, but the superabundance of names that misleads travellers, and the terms used are so multifarious that good scholars will at times scarcely know more than the subject of conversation. Though it is a little apart from the topic of the attention which the headmen pay to agriculture, yet it may be here mentioned, while speaking of the fulness of the language, that we have heard about a score of words to indicate different varieties of gait--one walks leaning forward, or backward, swaying from side to side, loungingly, or smartly, swaggeringly, swinging the arms, or only one arm, head down or up, or otherwise; each of these modes of walking was expressed by a particular verb; and more words were used to designate the different varieties of fools than we ever tried to count. Mr. Moffat has translated the whole Bible into the language of the Bechuana, and has diligently studied this tongue for the last forty-four- years; and, though knowing far more of the language than any of the natives who have been reared on the Mission-station of Kuruman, he does not pretend to have mastered it fully even yet. However copious it may be in terms of which we do not feel the necessity, it is poor in others, as in abstract terms, and words used to describe mental operations. Our third day's march ended in the afternoon of the 27th September, 1863, at the village of Chinanga on the banks of a branch of the Loangwa. A large, rounded mass of granite, a thousand feet high, called _Nombe rume_, stand on the plain a few miles off. It is quite remarkable, because it has so little vegetation on it. Several other granitic hills stand near it, ornamented with trees, like most heights of this country, and a heap of blue mountains appears away in the north. The effect of the piercing winds upon the men had never been got rid of. Several had been unable to carry a load ever since we ascended to the highlands; we had lost one, and another poor lad was so ill as to cause us great anxiety. By waiting in this village, which was so old that it was full of vermin, all became worse. Our European food was entirely expended, and native meal, though finely ground, has so many sharp angular particles in it, that it brought back dysentery, from which we had suffered so much in May. We could scarcely obtain food for the men. The headman of this village of Chinanga was off in a foray against some people further north to supply slaves to the traders expected along the slave route we had just left; and was said, after having expelled the inhabitants, to be living in their stockade, and devouring their corn. The conquered tribe had purchased what was called a peace by presenting the conqueror with three women. This state of matters afforded us but a poor prospect of finding more provisions in that direction than we could with great difficulty and at enormous prices obtain here. But neither want of food, dysentery, nor slave wars would have prevented our working our way round the Lake in some other direction, had we had time; but we had received orders from the Foreign Office to take the "Pioneer" down to the sea in the previous April. The salaries of all the men in her were positively "in any case to cease by the 31st of December." We were said to be only ten days' distant from Lake Bemba. We might speculate on a late rise of the river. A month or six weeks would secure a geographical feat, but the rains were near. We had been warned by different people that the rains were close at hand, and that we should then be bogged and unable to travel. The flood in the river might be an early one, or so small in volume as to give but one chance of the "Pioneer" descending to the ocean. The Makololo too were becoming dispirited by sickness and want of food, and were naturally anxious to be back to their fields in time for sowing. But in addition to all this and more, it was felt that it would not be dealing honestly with the Government, were we, for the sake of a little eclat, to risk the detention of the "Pioneer" up the river during another year; so we decided to return; and though we had afterwards the mortification to find that we were detained two full months at the ship waiting for the flood which we expected immediately after our arrival there, the chagrin was lessened by a consciousness of having acted in a fair, honest, above-board manner throughout. On the night of the 29th of September a thief came to the sleeping-place of our men and stole a leg of a goat. On complaining to the deputy headman, he said that the thief had fled, but would be caught. He suggested a fine, and offered a fowl and her eggs; but wishing that the thief alone should be punished, it was advised that _he_ should be found and fined. The Makololo thought it best to take the fowl as a means of making the punishment certain. After settling this matter on the last day of September, we commenced our return journey. We had just the same time to go back to the ship, that we had spent in coming to this point, and there is not much to interest one in marching over the same ground a second time. While on our journey north-west, a cheery old woman, who had once been beautiful, but whose white hair now contrasted strongly with her dark complexion, was working briskly in her garden as we passed. She seemed to enjoy a hale, hearty old age. She saluted us with what elsewhere would be called a good address; and, evidently conscious that she deserved the epithet, "dark but comely," answered each of us with a frank "Yes, my child." Another motherly-looking woman, sitting by a well, began the conversation by "You are going to visit Muazi, and you have come from afar, have you not?" But in general women never speak to strangers unless spoken to, so anything said by them attracts attention. Muazi once presented us with a basket of corn. On hinting that we had no wife to grind our corn, his buxom spouse struck in with roguish glee, and said, "I will grind it for you; and leave Muazi, to accompany and cook for you in the land of the setting sun." As a rule the women are modest and retiring in their demeanour, and, without being oppressed with toil, show a great deal of industry. The crops need about eight months' attention. Then when the harvest is home, much labour is required to convert it into food as porridge, or beer. The corn is pounded in a large wooden mortar, like the ancient Egyptian one, with a pestle six feet long and about four inches thick. The pounding is performed by two or even three women at one mortar. Each, before delivering a blow with her pestle, gives an upward jerk of the body, so as to put strength into the stroke, and they keep exact time, so that two pestles are never in the mortar at the same moment. The measured thud, thud, thud, and the women standing at their vigorous work, are associations inseparable from a prosperous African village. By the operation of pounding, with the aid of a little water, the hard outside scale or husk of the grain is removed, and the corn is made fit for the millstone. The meal irritates the stomach unless cleared from the husk; without considerable energy in the operator, the husk sticks fast to the corn. Solomon thought that still more vigour than is required to separate the hard husk or bran from wheat would fail to separate "a fool from his folly." "Though thou shouldst bray a fool in a mortar among wheat with a pestle, _yet_ will not his foolishness depart from him." The rainbow, in some parts, is called the "pestle of the Barimo," or gods. Boys and girls, by constant practice with the pestle, are able to plant stakes in the ground by a somewhat similar action, in erecting a hut, so deftly that they never miss the first hole made. Let any one try by repeatedly jobbing a pole with all his force to make a deep hole in the ground, and he will understand how difficult it is always to strike it into the same spot. As we were sleeping one night outside a hut, but near enough to hear what was going on within, an anxious mother began to grind her corn about two o'clock in the morning. "Ma," inquired a little girl, "why grind in the dark?" Mamma advised sleep, and administered material for a sweet dream to her darling, by saying, "I grind meal to buy a cloth from the strangers, which will make you look a little lady." An observer of these primitive races is struck continually with such little trivial touches of genuine human nature. The mill consists of a block of granite, syenite, or even mica schist, fifteen or eighteen inches square and five or six thick, with a piece of quartz or other hard rock about the size of a half brick, one side of which has a convex surface, and fits into a concave hollow in the larger and stationary stone. The workwoman kneeling, grasps this upper millstone with both hands, and works it backwards and forwards in the hollow of the lower millstone, in the same way that a baker works his dough, when pressing it and pushing from him. The weight of the person is brought to bear on the movable stone, and while it is pressed and pushed forwards and backwards, one hand supplies every now and then a little grain to be thus at first bruised and then ground on the lower stone, which is placed on the slope so that the meal when ground falls on to a skin or mat spread for the purpose. This is perhaps the most primitive form of mill, and anterior to that in oriental countries, where two women grind at one mill, and may have been that used by Sarah of old when she entertained the Angels. On 2nd October we applied to Muazi for guides to take us straight down to Chinsamba's at Mosapo, and thus cut off an angle, which we should otherwise make, by going back to Kota-kota Bay. He replied that his people knew the short way to Chinsamba's that we desired to go, but that they all were afraid to venture there, on account of the Zulus, or Mazitu. We therefore started back on our old route, and, after three hours' march, found some Babisa in a village who promised to lead us to Chinsamba. We meet with these keen traders everywhere. They are easily known by a line of horizontal cicatrices, each half an inch long, down the middle of the forehead and chin. They often wear the hair collected in a mass on the upper and back part of the head, while it is all shaven off the forehead and temples. The Babisa and Waiau or Ajawa heads have more of the round bullet-shape than those of the Manganja, indicating a marked difference in character; the former people being great traders and travellers, the latter being attached to home and agriculture. The Manganja usually intrust their ivory to the Babisa to be sold at the Coast, and complain that the returns made never come up to the high prices which they hear so much about before it is sent. In fact, by the time the Babisa return, the expenses of the journey, in which they often spend a month or two at a place where food abounds, usually eat up all the profits. Our new companions were trading in tobacco, and had collected quantities of the round balls, about the size of nine pounder shot, into which it is formed. One of them owned a woman, whose child had been sold that morning for tobacco. The mother followed him, weeping silently, for hours along the way we went; she seemed to be well known, for at several hamlets, the women spoke to her with evident sympathy; we could do nothing to alleviate her sorrow--the child would be kept until some slave- trader passed, and then sold for calico. The different cases of slave- trading observed by us are mentioned, in order to give a fair idea of its details. We spent the first night, after leaving the slave route, at the village of Nkoma, among a section of Manganja, called Machewa, or Macheba, whose district extends to the Bua. The next village at which we slept was also that of a Manganja smith. It was a beautiful spot, shaded with tall euphorbia-trees. The people at first fled, but after a short time returned, and ordered us off to a stockade of Babisa, about a mile distant. We preferred to remain in the smooth shady spot outside the hamlet, to being pent up in a treeless stockade. Twenty or thirty men came dropping in, all fully armed with bows and arrows, some of them were at least six feet four in height, yet these giants were not ashamed to say, "We thought that you were Mazitu, and, being afraid, ran away." Their orders to us were evidently inspired by terror, and so must the refusal of the headman to receive a cloth, or lend us a hut have been; but as we never had the opportunity of realizing what feelings a successful invasion would produce, we did not know whether to blame them or not. The headman, a tall old smith, with an enormous, well-made knife of his own workmanship, came quietly round, and, inspecting the shelter, which, from there being abundance of long grass and bushes near, our men put up for us in half an hour, gradually changed his tactics, and, in the evening, presented us with a huge pot of porridge and a deliciously well-cooked fowl, and made an apology for having been so rude to strangers, and a lamentation that he had been so foolish as to refuse the fine cloth we had offered. Another cloth was of course presented, and we had the pleasure of parting good friends next day. Our guide, who belonged to the stockade near to which we had slept, declined to risk himself further than his home. While waiting to hire another, Masiko attempted to purchase a goat, and had nearly concluded the bargain, when the wife of the would-be seller came forward, and said to her husband, "You appear as if you were unmarried; selling a goat without consulting your wife; what an insult to a woman! What sort of man are you?" Masiko urged the man, saying, "Let us conclude the bargain, and never mind her;" but he being better instructed, replied, "No, I have raised a host against myself already," and refused. We now pushed on to the east, so as to get down to the shores of the Lake, and into the parts where we were known. The country was beautiful, well wooded, and undulating, but the villages were all deserted; and the flight of the people seemed to have been quite recent, for the grain was standing in the corn-safes untouched. The tobacco, though ripe, remained uncut in the gardens, and the whole country was painfully quiet: the oppressive stillness quite unbroken by the singing of birds, or the shrill calls of women watching their corn. On passing a beautiful village, called Bangwe, surrounded by shady trees, and placed in a valley among mountains, we were admiring the beauty of the situation, when some of the much dreaded Mazitu, with their shields, ran out of the hamlet, from which we were a mile distant. They began to scream to their companions to give us chase. Without quickening our pace we walked on, and soon were in a wood, through which the footpath we were following led. The first intimation we had of the approaching Mazitu was given by the Johanna man, Zachariah, who always lagged behind, running up, screaming as if for his life. The bundles were all put in one place to be defended; and Masiko and Dr. Livingstone walked a few paces back to meet the coming foe. Masiko knelt down anxious to fire, but was ordered not to do so. For a second or two dusky forms appeared among the trees, and the Mazitu were asked, in their own tongue, "What do you want?" Masiko adding, "What do you say?" No answer was given, but the dark shade in the forest vanished. They had evidently taken us for natives, and the sight of a white man was sufficient to put them to flight. Had we been nearer the Coast, where the people are accustomed to the slave- trade, we should have found this affair a more difficult one to deal with; but, as a rule, the people of the interior are much more mild in character than those on the confines of civilization. The above very small adventure was all the danger we were aware of in this journey; but a report was spread from the Portuguese villages on the Zambesi, similar to several rumours that had been raised before, that Dr. Livingstone had been murdered by the Makololo; and very unfortunately the report reached England before it could be contradicted. One benefit arose from the Mazitu adventure. Zachariah, and others who had too often to be reproved for lagging behind, now took their places in the front rank; and we had no difficulty in making very long marches for several days, for all believed that the Mazitu would follow our footsteps, and attack us while we slept. A party of Babisa tobacco-traders came from the N.W. to Molamba, while we were there; and one of them asserted several times that the Loapula, after emerging from Moelo, received the Lulua, and then flowed into Lake Mofu, and thence into Tanganyika; and from the last-named Lake into the sea. This is the native idea of the geography of the interior; and, to test the general knowledge of our informant, we asked him about our acquaintances in Londa; as Moene, Katema, Shinde or Shinte, who live south-west of the rivers mentioned, and found that our friends there were perfectly well-known to him and to others of these travelled natives. In the evening two of the Babisa came in, and reported that the Mazitu had followed us to the village called Chigaragara, at which we slept at the bottom of the descent. The whole party of traders set off at once, though the sun had set. We ourselves had given rise to the report, for the women of Chigaragara, supposing us in the distance to be Mazitu, fled, with all their household utensils on their heads, and had no opportunity afterwards of finding out their mistake. We spent the night where we were, and next morning, declining Nkomo's entreaty to go and kill elephants, took our course along the shores of the Lake southwards. We have only been at the Lake at one season of the year: then the wind blows strongly from the east, and indeed this is its prevailing direction hence to the Orange River; a north or a south wind is rare, and seldom lasts more than three days. As the breeze now blew over a large body of water, towards us, it was delightful; but when facing it on the table- land it was so strong as materially to impede our progress, and added considerably to the labour of travelling. Here it brought large quantities of the plant (_Vallisneriae_), from which the natives extract salt by burning, and which, if chewed, at once shows its saline properties by the taste. Clouds of the kungo, or edible midges, floated on the Lake, and many rested on the bushes on land. The reeds along the shores of the Lake were still crowded with fugitives, and a great loss of life must since have taken place; for, after the corn they had brought with them was expended, famine would ensue. Even now we passed many women and children digging up the roots, about the size of peas, of an aromatic grass; and their wasted forms showed that this poor hard fare was to allay, if possible, the pangs of hunger. The babies at the breast crowed to us as we passed, their mothers kneeling and grubbing for the roots; the poor little things still drawing nourishment from the natural fountain were unconscious of that sinking of heart which their parents must have felt in knowing that the supply for the little ones must soon fail. No one would sell a bit of food to us: fishermen, even, would not part with the produce of their nets, except in exchange for some other kind of food. Numbers of newly-made graves showed that many had already perished, and hundreds were so emaciated that they had the appearance of human skeletons swathed in brown and wrinkled leather. In passing mile after mile, marked with these sad proofs that "man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn," one experiences an overpowering sense of helplessness to alleviate human woe, and breathes a silent prayer to the Almighty to hasten the good time coming when "man and man the world o'er, shall brothers be for all that." One small redeeming consideration in all this misery could not but be felt; these ills were inflicted by heathen Mazitu, and not by, or for, those who say to Him who is higher than the highest, "We believe that thou shalt come to be our Judge." We crossed the Mokole, rested at Chitanda, and then left the Lake, and struck away N.W. to Chinsamba's. Our companions, who were so much oppressed by the rarefied air of the plateau, still showed signs of exhaustion, though now only 1300 feet above the sea, and did not recover flesh and spirits till we again entered the Lower Shire Valley, which is of so small an altitude, that, without simultaneous observations with the barometer there and on the sea-coast, the difference would not be appreciable. On a large plain on which we spent one night, we had the company of eighty tobacco traders on their way from Kasungu to Chinsamba's. The Mazitu had attacked and killed two of them, near the spot where the Zulus fled from us without answering our questions. The traders were now so frightened that, instead of making a straight course with us, they set off by night to follow the shores of the Lake to Tsenga, and then turn west. It is the sight of shields, or guns that inspires terror. The bowmen feel perfectly helpless when the enemy comes with even the small protection the skin shield affords, or attacks them in the open field with guns. They may shoot a few arrows, but they are such poor shots that ten to one if they hit. The only thing that makes the arrow formidable is the poison; for if the poisoned barb goes in nothing can save the wounded. A bow is in use in the lower end of Lake Nyassa, but is more common in the Maravi country, from six to eight inches broad, which is intended to be used as a shield as well as a bow; but we never saw one with the mark on it of an enemy's arrow. It certainly is no match for the Zulu shield, which is between four and five feet long, of an oval shape, and about two feet broad. So great is the terror this shield inspires that we sometimes doubted whether the Mazitu here were Zulus at all, and suspected that the people of the country took advantage of that fear, and, assuming shields, pretended to belong to that nation. On the 11th October we arrived at the stockade of Chinsamba in Mosapo, and had reason to be very well satisfied with his kindness. A paraffin candle was in his eyes the height of luxury, and the ability to make a light instantaneously by a lucifer match, a marvel that struck him with wonder. He brought all his relatives in different groups to see the strange sights,--instantaneous fire-making, and a light, without the annoyance of having fire and smoke in the middle of the floor. When they wish to look for anything in the dark, a wisp of dried grass is lighted. Chinsamba gave us a great deal of his company during our visits. As we have often remarked in other cases, a chief has a great deal to attend to in guiding the affairs of his people. He is consulted on all occasions, and gives his advice in a stream of words, which show a very intimate acquaintance with the topography of his district; he knows every rood cultivated, every weir put in the river, every hunting-net, loom, gorge, and every child of his tribe. Any addition made to the number of these latter is notified to him; and he sends thanks and compliments to the parents. The presents which, following the custom of the country, we gave to every headman, where we either spent a night or a longer period, varied from four to eight yards of calico. We had some Manchester cloths made in imitation of the native manufactured robes of the West Coast, each worth five or six shillings. To the more important of the chiefs, for calico we substituted one of these strong gaudy dresses, iron spoons, a knife, needles, a tin dish, or pannikin, and found these presents to be valued more than three times their value in cloth would have been. Eight or ten shillings' worth gave abundant satisfaction to the greediest; but this is to be understood as the prime cost of the articles, and a trader would sometimes have estimated similar generosity as equal to from 30 to 50 pounds. In some cases the presents we gave exceeded the value of what was received in return; in others the excess of generosity was on the native side. We never asked for leave to pass through the country; we simply told where we were going, and asked for guides; if they were refused, or if they demanded payment beforehand, we requested to be put into the beginning of the path, and said that we were sorry we could not agree about the guides, and usually they and we started together. Greater care would be required on entering the Mazitu or Zulu country, for there the Government extends over very large districts, while among the Manganja each little district is independent of every other. The people here have not adopted the exacting system of the Banyai, or of the people whose country was traversed by Speke and Grant. In our way back from Chinsamba's to Chembi's and from his village to Nkwinda's, and thence to Katosa's, we only saw the people working in their gardens, near to the stockades. These strongholds were strengthened with branches of acacias, covered with strong hooked thorns; and were all crowded with people. The air was now clearer than when we went north, and we could see the hills of Kirk's Range five or six miles to the west of our path. The sun struck very hot, and the men felt it most in their feet. Every one who could get a bit of goatskin made it into a pair of sandals. While sitting at Nkwinda's, a man behind the court hedge-wall said, with great apparent glee, that an Arab slaving party on the other side of the confluence of the Shire and Lake were "giving readily two fathoms of calico for a boy, and two and a half for a girl; never saw trade so brisk, no haggling at all." This party was purchasing for the supply of the ocean slave-trade. One of the evils of this traffic is that it profits by every calamity that happens in a country. The slave-trader naturally reaps advantage from every disorder, and though in the present case some lives may have been saved that otherwise would have perished, as a rule he intensifies hatreds, and aggravates wars between the tribes, because the more they fight and vanquish each other the richer his harvest becomes. Where slaving and cattle are unknown the people live in peace. As we sat leaning against that hedge, and listened to the harangue of the slave-trader's agent, it glanced across our mind that this was a terrible world; the best in it unable, from conscious imperfections, to say to the worst "Stand by! for I am holier than thou." The slave-trader, imbued no doubt with certain kindly feelings, yet pursuing a calling which makes him a fair specimen of a human fiend, stands grouped with those by whom the slave-traders are employed, and with all the workers of sin and misery in more highly-favoured lands, an awful picture to the All-seing Eye. We arrived at Katosa's village on the 15th October, and found about thirty young men and boys in slave-sticks. They had been bought by other agents of the Arab slavers, still on the east side of the Shire. They were resting in the village, and their owners soon removed them. The weight of the goree seemed very annoying when they tried to sleep. This taming instrument is kept on, until the party has crossed several rivers and all hope of escape has vanished from the captive's mind. On explaining to Katosa the injury he was doing in selling his people as slaves, he assured us that those whom we had seen belonged to the Arabs, and added that he had far too few people already. He said he had been living in peace at the lakelet Pamalombe; that the Ajawa, or Machinga, under Kainka and Karamba, and a body of Babisa, under Maonga, had induced him to ferry them over the Shire; that they had lived for a considerable time at his expense, and at last stole his sheep, which induced him to make his escape to the place where he now dwelt, and in this flight he had lost many of his people. His account of the usual conduct of the Ajawa quite agrees with what these people have narrated themselves, and gives but a low idea of their moral tone. They have repeatedly broken all the laws of hospitality by living for months on the bounty of the Manganja, and then, by a sudden uprising, overcoming their hosts, and killing or chasing them out of their inheritances. The secret of their success is the possession of firearms. There were several of these Ajawa here again, and on our arrival they proposed to Katosa that they should leave; but he replied that they need not be afraid of us. They had red beads strung so thickly on their hair that at a little distance they appeared to have on red caps. It is curious that the taste for red hair should be so general among the Africans here and further north; in the south black mica, called _Sebilo_, and even soot are used to deepen the colour of the hair; here many smear the head with red-ochre, others plait the inner bark of a tree stained red into it; and a red powder called _Mukuru_ is employed, which some say is obtained from the ground, and others from the roots of a tree. It having been doubted whether sugar-cane is indigenous to this country or not, we employed Katosa to procure the two varieties commonly cultivated, with the intention of conveying them to Johanna. One is yellow, and the other, like what we observed in the Barotse Valley, is variegated with dark red and yellow patches, or all red. We have seen it "arrow," or blossom. Bamboos also run to seed, and the people are said to use the seed as food. The sugar-cane has native names, which would lead us to believe it to be indigenous. Here it is called _Zimbi_, further south _Mesari_, and in the centre of the country _Meshuati_. Anything introduced in recent times, as maize, superior cotton, or cassava, has a name implying its foreign origin. Katosa's village was embowered among gigantic trees of fine timber: several caffiaceous bushes, with berries closely resembling those of the common coffee, grew near, but no use had ever been made of them. There are several cinchonaceous trees also in the country; and some of the wild fruits are so good as to cause a feeling of regret that they have not been improved by cultivation, or whatever else brought ours to their present perfection. Katosa lamented that this locality was so inferior to his former place at Pamalombe; there he had maize at the different stages of growth throughout the year. To us, however, he seemed, by digging holes, and taking advantage of the moisture beneath, to have succeeded pretty well in raising crops at this the driest time. The Makololo remarked that "here the maize had no season,"--meaning that the whole year was proper for its growth and ripening. By irrigation a succession of crops of grain might be raised anywhere within the south intertropical region of Africa. When we were with Motunda, on the 20th October, he told us frankly that all the native provisions were hidden in Kirk's Range, and his village being the last place where a supply of grain could be purchased before we reached the ship, we waited till he had sent to his hidden stores. The upland country, beyond the mountains now on our right, is called Deza, and is inhabited by Maravi, who are only another tribe of Manganja. The paramount chief is called Kabambe, and he, having never been visited by war, lives in peace and plenty. Goats and sheep thrive; and Nyango, the chieftainess further to the south, has herds of horned cattle. The country being elevated is said to be cold, and there are large grassy plains on it which are destitute of trees. The Maravi are reported to be brave, and good marksmen with the bow; but, throughout all the country we have traversed, guns are enabling the trading tribes to overcome the agricultural and manufacturing classes. On the ascent at the end of the valley just opposite Mount Mvai, we looked back for a moment to impress the beauties of the grand vale on our memory. The heat of the sun was now excessive, and Masiko, thinking that it was overpowering, proposed to send forward to the ship and get a hammock, in which to carry any one who might knock up. He was truly kind and considerate. Dr. Livingstone having fallen asleep after a fatiguing march, a hole in the roof of the hut he was in allowed the sun to beat on his head, and caused a splitting headache and deafness: while he was nearly insensible, he felt Masiko repeatedly lift him back to the bed off which he had rolled, and cover him up. On the 24th we were again in Banda, at the village of Chasundu, and could now see clearly the hot valley in which the Shire flows, and the mountains of the Manganja beyond to our south-east. Instead of following the road by which we had come, we resolved to go south along the Lesungwe, which rises at Zunje, a peak on the same ridge as Mvai, and a part of Kirk's Range, which bounds the country of the Maravi on our west. This is about the limit of the beat of the Portuguese native traders, and it is but recently that, following our footsteps, they have come so far. It is not likely that their enterprise will lead them further north, for Chasundu informed us that the Babisa under-sell the agents from Tette. He had tried to deal with the latter when they first came; but they offered only ten fathoms of calico for a tusk, for which the Babisa gave him twenty fathoms and a little powder. Ivory was brought to us for sale again and again, and, as far as we could judge, the price expected would be about one yard of calico per pound, or possibly more, for there is no scale of prices known. The rule seems to be that buyer and seller shall spend a good deal of time in trying to cheat each other before coming to any conclusion over a bargain. We found the Lesungwe a fine stream near its source, and about forty feet wide and knee-deep, when joined by the Lekudzi, which comes down from the Maravi country. Guinea-fowl abounded, but no grain could be purchased, for the people had cultivated only the holmes along the banks with maize and pumpkins. Time enough had not elapsed since the slave-trader's invasion, and destruction of their stores, for them to raise crops of grain on the adjacent lands. To deal with them for a few heads of maize was the hungry bargaining with the famished, so we hastened on southwards as fast as the excessive heat would allow us. It was impossible to march in the middle of the day, the heat was so intolerable; and we could not go on at night, because, if we had chanced to meet any of the inhabitants, we should have been taken for marauders. We had now thunder every afternoon; but while occasional showers seemed to fall at different parts, none fell on us. The air was deliciously clear, and revealed all the landscape covered everywhere with forest, and bounded by beautiful mountains. On the 31st October we reached the Mukuru-Madse, after having travelled 660 geographical miles, or 760 English miles in a straight line. This was accomplished in fifty-five travelling days, twelve miles per diem on an average. If the numerous bendings and windings, and ups and downs of the paths could have been measured too, the distance would have been found at least fifteen miles a day. The night we slept at the Mukuru-Madse it thundered heavily, but, as this had been the case every afternoon, and no rain had followed, we erected no shelter, but during this night a pouring rain came on. When very tired a man feels determined to sleep in spite of everything, and the sound of dropping water is said to be conducive to slumber, but that does not refer to an African storm. If, when half asleep in spite of a heavy shower on the back of the head, he unconsciously turns on his side, the drops from the branches make such capital shots into his ear, that the brain rings again. We were off next morning, the 1st of November, as soon as the day dawned. In walking about seven miles to the ship, our clothes were thoroughly dried by the hot sun, and an attack of fever followed. We relate this little incident to point out the almost certain consequence of getting wet in this climate, and allowing the clothes to dry on the person. Even if we walk in the mornings when the dew is on the grass, and only get our feet and legs wet, a very uneasy feeling and partial fever with pains in the limbs ensue, and continue till the march onwards bathes them in perspiration. Had Bishop Mackenzie been aware of this, which, before experience alone had taught us, entailed many a severe lesson, we know no earthly reason why his valuable life might not have been spared. The difference between getting the clothes soaked in England and in Africa is this: in the cold climate the patient is compelled, or, at any rate, warned, by discomfort to resort at once to a change of raiment; while in Africa it is cooling and rather pleasant to allow the clothes to dry on the person. A Missionary in proportion as he possesses an athletic frame, hardened by manly exercises, in addition to his other qualifications, will excel him who is not favoured with such bodily endowments; but in a hot climate efficiency mainly depends on husbanding the resources. He must never forget that, in the tropics, he is an exotic plant. CHAPTER XV. Confidence of natives--Bishop Tozer--Withdrawal of the Mission party--The English leave--Hazardous voyage to Mosambique--Dr. Livingstone's voyage to Bombay--Return to England. We were delighted and thankful to find all those left at the ship in good health, and that from the employments in which they had been occupied they had suffered less from fever than usual during our absence. My companion, Thomas Ward, the steward, after having performed his part in the march right bravely, rejoined his comrades stronger than he had ever been before. An Ajawa chief, named Kapeni, had so much confidence in the English name that he, with most of his people, visited the ship; and asserted that nothing would give his countrymen greater pleasure than to receive the associates of Bishop Mackenzie as their teachers. This declaration, coupled with the subsequent conduct of the Ajawa, was very gratifying, inasmuch as it was clear that no umbrage had been taken at the check which the Bishop had given to their slaving; their consciences had told them that the course he had pursued was right. When we returned, the contrast between the vegetation about Muazi's and that near the ship was very striking. We had come so quickly down, that while on the plateau in latitude 12 degrees S., the young leaves had in many cases passed from the pink or other colour they have on first coming out to the light fresh green which succeeds it, here, on the borders of 16 degrees S., or from 150 to 180 miles distant, the trees were still bare, the grey colour of the bark predominating over every other hue. The trees in the tropics here have a very well-marked annual rest. On the Rovuma even, which is only about ten degrees from the equator, in September the slopes up from the river some sixty miles inland were of a light ashy-grey colour; and on ascending them, we found that the majority of the trees were without leaves; those of the bamboo even lay crisp and crumpled on the ground. As the sun is usually hot by day, even in the winter, this withering process may be owing to the cool nights; Africa differing so much from Central India in the fact that, in Africa, however hot the day may be, the air generally cools down sufficiently by the early morning watches to render a covering or even a blanket agreeable. The first fortnight after our return to the ship was employed in the delightful process of resting, to appreciate which a man must have gone through great exertions. In our case the muscles of the limbs were as hard as boards, and not an ounce of fat existed on any part of the body. We now had frequent showers; but, these being only the earlier rains, the result on the rise of the river was but a few inches. The effect of these rains on the surrounding scenery was beautiful in the extreme. All trace of the dry season was soon obliterated, and hills and mountains from base to summit were covered with a mantle of living green. The sun passed us on his way south without causing a flood, so all our hopes of a release were centred on his return towards the Equator, when, as a rule, the waters of inundation are made to flow. Up to this time the rains descended simply to water the earth, fill the pools, and make ready for the grand overflow for which we had still to wait six weeks. It is of no use to conceal that we waited with much chagrin; for had we not been forced to return from the highlands west of Nyassa we might have visited Lake Bemba; but unavailing regrets are poor employment for the mind; so we banished them to the best of our power. About the middle of December, 1863, we were informed that Bishop Mackenzie's successor, after spending a few months on the top of a mountain about as high as Ben Nevis in Scotland, at the mouth of the Shire, where there were few or no people to be taught, had determined to leave the country. This unfortunate decision was communicated to us at the same time that six of the boys reared by Bishop Mackenzie were sent back into heathenism. The boys were taken to a place about seven miles from the ship, but immediately found their way up to us. We told them that if they wished to remain in the country they had better so arrange at once, for we were soon to leave. The sequel will show their choice. As soon as the death of Bishop Mackenzie was known at the Cape, Dr. Gray, the excellent Bishop there, proceeded at once to England, with a view of securing an early appointment of another head to the Mission, which in its origin owed so much to his zeal for the spread of the gospel among the heathen, and whose interests he had continually at heart. About the middle of 1862 we heard that Dr. Gray's efforts had been successful, and that another clergyman would soon take the place of our departed friend. This pleasing intelligence was exceedingly cheering to the Missionaries, and gratifying also to the members of the Expedition. About the beginning of 1863 the new Bishop arrived at the mouth of the river in a man-of-war, and after some delay proceeded inland. The Bishop of the Cape had taken a voyage home at considerable inconvenience to himself, for the sole object of promoting this Mission to the heathen; and it was somehow expected that the man he would secure would be an image of himself; and we must say, that whatever others, from the representations that have gone abroad, may think of his character, we invariably found Dr. Gray to be a true, warm-hearted promoter of the welfare of his fellow- men; a man whose courage and zeal have provoked very many to good works. It was hoped that the presence of a new head to the Mission would infuse new energy and life into the small band of Missionaries, whose ranks had been thinned by death; and who, though discouraged by the disasters which the slave war and famine had induced, and also dispirited by the depressing influences of a low and unhealthy position in the swampy Shire Valley, were yet bravely holding out till the much-needed moral and material aid should arrive. We believe that we are uttering the sentiments of many devout members of different sections of Christians, when we say, it was a pity that the Mission of the Universities was abandoned. The ground had been consecrated in the truest sense by the lives of those brave men who first occupied it. In bare justice to Bishop Mackenzie, who was the first to fall, it must be said, that the repudiation of all he had done, and the sudden abandonment of all that had cost so much life and money to secure, was a serious line of conduct for one so unversed in Missionary operations as his successor, to inaugurate. It would have been no more than fair that Bishop Tozer, before winding up the affairs of the Mission, should actually have examined the highlands of the Upper Shire; he would thus have gratified the associates of his predecessor, who believed that the highlands had never had a fair trial, and he would have gained from personal observation a more accurate knowledge of the country and the people than he could possibly have become possessed of by information gathered chiefly on the coast. With this examination, rather than with a stay of a few months on the humid, dripping top of misty Morambala, we should have felt much more satisfied. In January, 1864, the natives all confidently asserted that at next full moon the river would have its great and permanent flood. It had several times risen as much as a foot, but fell again as suddenly. It was curious that their observation coincided exactly with ours, that the flood of inundation happens when the sun comes overhead on his way back to the Equator. We mention this more minutely because, from the observation of several years, we believe that in this way the inundation of the Nile is to be explained. On the 19th the Shire suddenly rose several feet, and we started at once; and stopping only for a short time at Chibisa's to bid adieu to the Ajawa and Makololo, who had been extremely useful to us of late in supplying maize and fresh provisions, we hastened on our way to the ocean. In order to keep a steerage way on the "Pioneer," we had to go quicker than the stream, and unfortunately carried away her rudder in passing suddenly round a bank. The delay required for the repairs prevented our reaching Morambala till the 2nd of February. The flood-water ran into a marsh some miles above the mountain, and became as black as ink; and when it returned again to the river emitted so strong an effluvium of sulphuretted hydrogen, that one could not forget for an instant that the air was most offensive. The natives said this stench did not produce disease. We spent one night in it, and suffered no ill effects, though we fully expected an attack of fever. Next morning every particle of white paint on both ships was so deeply blackened, that it could not be cleaned by scrubbing with soap and water. The brass was all turned to a bronze colour, and even the iron and ropes had taken a new tint. This is an additional proof that malaria and offensive effluvia are not always companions. We did not suffer more from fever in the mangrove swamps, where we inhaled so much of the heavy mousey smell that it was distinguishable in the odour of our shirts and flannels, than we did elsewhere. We tarried in the foul and blackening emanations from the marsh because we had agreed to receive on board about thirty poor orphan boys and girls, and a few helpless widows whom Bishop Mackenzie had attached to his Mission. All who were able to support themselves had been encouraged by the Missionaries to do so by cultivating the ground, and they now formed a little free community. But the boys and girls who were only from seven to twelve years of age, and orphans without any one to help them, could not be abandoned without bringing odium on the English name. The effect of an outcry by some persons in England, who knew nothing of the circumstances in which Bishop Mackenzie was placed, and who certainly had not given up their own right of appeal to the sword of the magistrate, was, that the new head of the Mission had gone to extremes in the opposite direction from his predecessor; not even protesting against the one monstrous evil of the country, the slave-trade. We believed that we ought to leave the English name in the same good repute among the natives that we had found it; and in removing the poor creatures, who had lived with Mackenzie as children with a father, to a land where the education he began would be completed, we had the aid and sympathy of the best of the Portuguese, and of the whole population. The difference between shipping slaves and receiving these free orphans struck us as they came on board. As soon as permission to embark was given, the rush into the boat nearly swamped her--their eagerness to be safe on the "Pioneer's" deck had to be repressed. Bishop Tozer had already left for Quillimane when we took these people and the last of the Universities' Missionaries on board and proceeded to the Zambesi. It was in high flood. We have always spoken of this river as if at its lowest, for fear lest we should convey an exaggerated impression of its capabilities for navigation. Instead of from five to fifteen feet, it was now from fifteen to thirty feet, or more, deep. All the sandbanks and many of the islands had disappeared, and before us rolled a river capable, as one of our naval friends thought, of carrying a gunboat. Some of the sandy islands are annually swept away, and the quantities of sand carried down are prodigious. The process by which a delta, extending eighty or one hundred miles from the sea, has been formed may be seen going on at the present day--the coarser particles of sand are driven out into the ocean, just in the same way as we see they are over banks in the beds of torrents. The finer portions are caught by the returning tide, and, accumulating by successive ebbs and flows, become, with the decaying vegetation, arrested by the mangrove roots. The influence of the tide in bringing back the finer particles gives the sea near the mouth of the Zambesi a clean and sandy bottom. This process has been going on for ages, and as the delta has enlarged eastwards, the river has always kept a channel for itself behind. Wherever we see an island all sand, or with only one layer of mud in it, we know it is one of recent formation, and that it may be swept away at any time by a flood; while those islands which are all of mud are the more ancient, having in fact existed ever since the time when the ebbing and flowing tides originally formed them as parts of the delta. This mud resists the action of the river wonderfully. It is a kind of clay on which the eroding power of water has little effect. Were maps made, showing which banks and which islands are liable to erosion, it would go far to settle where the annual change of the channel would take place; and, were a few stakes driven in year by year to guide the water in its course, the river might be made of considerable commercial value in the hands of any energetic European nation. No canal or railway would ever be thought of for this part of Africa. A few improvements would make the Zambesi a ready means of transit for all the trade that, with a population thinned by Portuguese slaving, will ever be developed in our day. Here there is no instance on record of the natives flocking in thousands to the colony, as they did at Natal, and even to the Arabs on Lake Nyassa. This keeping aloof renders it unlikely that in Portuguese hands the Zambesi will ever be of any more value to the world than it has been. After a hurried visit to Senna, in order to settle with Major Sicard and Senhor Ferrao for supplies we had drawn thence after the depopulation of the Shire, we proceeded down to the Zambesi's mouth, and were fortunate in meeting, on the 13th February, with H.M.S. "Orestes." She was joined next day by H.M.S. "Ariel." The "Orestes" took the "Pioneer," and the "Ariel" the "Lady Nyassa" in tow, for Mosambique. On the 16th a circular storm proved the sea-going qualities of the "Lady of the Lake;" for on this day a hurricane struck the "Ariel," and drove her nearly backwards at a rate of six knots. The towing hawser wound round her screw and stopped her engines. No sooner had she recovered from this shock than she was again taken aback on the other tack, and driven stem on towards the "Lady Nyassa's" broadside. We who were on board the little vessel saw no chance of escape unless the crew of the "Ariel" should think of heaving ropes when the big ship went over us; but she glided past our bow, and we breathed freely again. We had now an opportunity of witnessing man-of-war seamanship. Captain Chapman, though his engines were disabled, did not think of abandoning us in the heavy gale, but crossed the bows of the "Lady Nyassa" again and again, dropping a cask with a line by which to give us another hawser. We might never have picked it up, had not a Krooman jumped overboard and fastened a second line to the cask; and then we drew the hawser on board, and were again in tow. During the whole time of the hurricane the little vessel behaved admirably, and never shipped a single green sea. When the "Ariel" pitched forwards we could see a large part of her bottom, and when her stern went down we could see all her deck. A boat, hung at her stern davits, was stove in by the waves. The officers on board the "Ariel" thought that it was all over with us: we imagined that they were suffering more than we were. Nautical men may suppose that this was a serious storm only to landsmen; but the "Orestes," which was once in sight, and at another time forty miles off during the same gale, split eighteen sails; and the "Pioneer" had to be lightened of parts of a sugar- mill she was carrying; her round-house was washed away, and the cabin was frequently knee-deep in water. When the "Orestes" came into Mosambique harbour nine days after our arrival there, our vessel, not being anchored close to the "Ariel," for we had run in under the lee of the fort, led to the surmise on board the "Orestes" that we had gone to the bottom. Captain Chapman and his officers pronounced the "Lady Nyassa" to be the finest little sea-boat they had ever seen. She certainly was a contrast to the "Ma-Robert," and did great credit to her builders, Ted and Macgregor of Glasgow. We can but regret that she was not employed on the Lake after which she was named, and for which she was intended and was so well adapted. What struck us most, during the trip from the Zambesi to Mosambique, was the admirable way in which Captain Chapman handled the "Ariel" in the heavy sea of the hurricane; the promptitude and skill with which, when we had broken three hawsers, others were passed to us by the rapid evolutions of a big ship round a little one; and the ready appliance of means shown in cutting the hawser off the screw nine feet under water with long chisels made for the occasion; a task which it took three days to accomplish. Captain Chapman very kindly invited us on board the "Ariel," and we accepted his hospitality after the weather had moderated. The little vessel was hauled through and against the huge seas with such force that two hawsers measuring eleven inches each in circumference parted. Many of the blows we received from the billows made every plate quiver from stem to stern, and the motion was so quick that we had to hold on continually to avoid being tossed from one side to the other or into the sea. Ten of the late Bishop's flock whom we had on board became so sick and helpless that do what we could to aid them they were so very much in the way that the idea broke in upon us, that the close packing resorted to by slavers is one of the necessities of the traffic. If this is so, it would account for the fact that even when the trade was legal the same injurious custom was common, if not universal. If, instead of ten such passengers, we had been carrying two hundred, with the wind driving the rain and spray, as by night it did, nearly as hard as hail against our faces, and nothing whatever to be seen to windward but the occasional gleam of the crest of a wave, and no sound heard save the whistling of the storm through the rigging, it would have been absolutely necessary for the working of the ship and safety of the whole that the live cargo should all have been stowed down below, whatever might have been the consequences. Having delivered the "Pioneer" over to the Navy, she was towed down to the Cape by Captain Forsyth of the "Valorous," and after examination it was declared that with repairs to the amount of 300 pounds she would be as serviceable as ever. Those of the Bishop's flock whom we had on board were kindly allowed a passage to the Cape. The boys went in the "Orestes," and we are glad of the opportunity to record our heartfelt thanks to Captains Forsyth, Gardner, and Chapman for rendering us, at various times, every aid in their power. Mr. Waller went in the "Pioneer," and continued his generous services to all connected with the Mission, whether white or black, till they were no longer needed; and we must say that his conduct to them throughout was truly noble, and worthy of the highest praise. After beaching the "Lady Nyassa" at Caboceira, opposite the house of a Portuguese gentleman well known to all Englishmen, Joao da Costa Soares, we put in brine cocks, and cleaned and painted her bottom. Mr. Soares appeared to us to have been very much vilified in a publication in England a few years ago; our experience proved him to be extremely kind and obliging. All the members of the Expedition who passed Mosambique were unanimous in extolling his generosity and, from the general testimony of English visitors in his favour, we very much regret that his character was so grievously misrepresented. To the authorities at Mosambique our thanks are also due for obliging accommodation; and though we differ entirely from the Portuguese officials as to the light in which we regard the slave-trade, we trust our exposure of the system, in which unfortunately they are engaged, will not be understood as indicating any want of kindly feeling and good will to them personally. Senhor Canto e Castro, who arrived at Mosambique two days after our departure to take the office of Governor-General, was well known to us in Angola. We lived two months in his house when he was Commandant of Golungo Alto; and, knowing him thoroughly, believe that no better man could have been selected for the office. We trust that his good principles may enable him to withstand the temptations of his position; but we should be sorry to have ours tried in a den of slave-traders with the miserable pittance he receives for his support. While at Mosambique, a species of Pedalia called by Mr. Soares Dadeleira, and by the natives--from its resemblance to Gerzilin, or sesamum--"wild sesamum," was shown to us, and is said to be well known among native nurses as a very gentle and tasteless aperient for children. A few leaves of it are stirred in a cup of cold water for eight or nine seconds, and a couple of teaspoonfuls of the liquid given as a dose. The leaves form a sort of mucilage in the water by longer stirring, which is said to have diuretic properties besides. On the 16th April we steamed out from Mosambique; and, the currents being in our favour, in a week reached Zanzibar. Here we experienced much hospitality from our countrymen, and especially from Dr. Seward, then acting consul and political agent for Colonel Playfair. Dr. Seward was very doubtful if we could reach Bombay before what is called the break of the monsoon took place. This break occurs usually between the end of May and the 12th of June. The wind still blows from Africa to India, but with so much violence, and with such a murky atmosphere, that few or no observations for position can be taken. We were, however, at the time very anxious to dispose of the "Lady Nyassa," and, the only market we could reach being Bombay, we resolved to run the risk of getting there before the stormy period commenced; and, after taking fourteen tons of coal on board, we started on the 30th April from Zanzibar. Our complement consisted of seven native Zambesians, two boys, and four Europeans; namely, one stoker, one sailor, one carpenter, whose names have been already mentioned, and Dr. Livingstone, as navigator. The "Lady Nyassa" had shown herself to be a good sea-boat. The natives had proved themselves capital sailors, though before volunteering not one of them had ever seen the sea. They were not picked men, but, on paying a dozen whom we had in our employment for fifteen months, they were taken at random from several hundreds who offered to accompany us. Their wages were ten shillings per mensem, and it was curious to observe, that so eager were they to do their duty, that only one of them lay down from sea- sickness during the whole voyage. They took in and set sail very cleverly in a short time, and would climb out along a boom, reeve a rope through the block, and come back with the rope in their teeth, though at each lurch the performer was dipped in the sea. The sailor and carpenter, though anxious to do their utmost, had a week's severe illness each, and were unfit for duty. It is pleasant enough to take the wheel for an hour or two, or even for a watch, but when it comes to be for every alternate four hours, it is utterly wearisome. We set our black men to steer, showing them which arm of the compass needle was to be kept towards the vessel's head, and soon three of them could manage very well, and they only needed watching. In going up the East Coast to take advantage of the current of one hundred miles a day, we would fain have gone into the Juba or Webbe River, the mouth of which is only 15 minutes south of the line, but we were too shorthanded. We passed up to about ten degrees north of the Equator, and then steamed out from the coast. Here Maury's wind chart showed that the calm-belt had long been passed, but we were in it still; and, instead of a current carrying us north, we had a contrary current which bore us every day four miles to the south. We steamed as long as we dared, knowing as we did that we must use the engines on the coast of India. After losing many days tossing on the silent sea, with innumerable dolphins, flying-fish, and sharks around us, we had six days of strong breezes, then calms again tried our patience; and the near approach of that period, "the break of the monsoon," in which it was believed no boat could live, made us sometimes think our epitaph would be "Left Zanzibar on 30th April, 1864, and never more heard of." At last, in the beginning of June, the chronometers showed that we were near the Indian coast. The black men believed it was true because we told them it was so, but only began to dance with joy when they saw sea-weed and serpents floating past. These serpents are peculiar to these parts, and are mentioned as poisonous in the sailing directions. We ventured to predict that we should see land next morning, and at midday the high coast hove in sight, wonderfully like Africa before the rains begin. Then a haze covered all the land, and a heavy swell beat towards it. A rock was seen, and a latitude showed it to be the Choule rock. Making that a fresh starting- point, we soon found the light-ship, and then the forest of masts loomed through the haze in Bombay harbour. We had sailed over 2500 miles. FOOTNOTES {1} A remedy composed of from six to eight grains of resin of jalap, the same of rhubarb, and three each of calomel and quinine, made up into four pills, with tincture of cardamoms, usually relieved all the symptoms in five or six hours. Four pills are a full dose for a man--one will suffice for a woman. They received from our men the name of "rousers," from their efficacy in rousing up even those most prostrated. When their operation is delayed, a dessert-spoonful of Epsom salts should be given. Quinine after or during the operation of the pills, in large doses every two or three hours, until deafness or cinchonism ensued, completed the cure. The only cases in which, we found ourselves completely helpless, were those in which obstinate vomiting ensued. {2} The late Mr. Robson. {3} In 1865, four years after these forebodings were penned, we received intelligence that they had all come to pass. Sekeletu died in the beginning of 1864--a civil war broke out about the succession to the chieftainship; a large body of those opposed to the late chief's uncle, Impololo, being regent, departed with their cattle to Lake Ngami; an insurrection by the black tribes followed; Impololo was slain, and the kingdom, of which, under an able sagacious mission, a vast deal might have been made, has suffered the usual fate of African conquests. That fate we deeply deplore; for, whatever other faults the Makololo might justly be charged with, they did not belong to the class who buy and sell each other, and the tribes who have succeeded them do. {4} It was with sorrow that we learned by a letter from Mr. Moffat, in 1864, that poor Sekeletu was dead. As will be mentioned further on, men were sent with us to bring up more medicine. They preferred to remain on the Shire, and, as they were free men, we could do no more than try and persuade them to hasten back to their chief with iodine and other remedies. They took the parcel, but there being only two real Makololo among them, these could neither return themselves alone or force their attendants to leave a part of the country where they were independent, and could support themselves with ease. Sekeletu, however, lived long enough to receive and acknowledge goods to the value of 50 pounds, sent, in lieu of those which remained in Tette, by Robert Moffat, jun., since dead. {5} A brother, we believe, of one who accompanied Burke and Willis in the famous but unfortunate Australian Expedition. {6} Genesis, chap. iii., verses 21 and 23, "make coats of skins, and clothed them"--"sent him forth from the garden of Eden to till the ground" imply teaching. Vide Archbishop Whately's "History of Religious Worship." John W. Parker, West Strand, London, 1849. {7} "In 1854 the native church at Sierra-Leone undertook to pay for their primary schools, and thereby effected a saving to the Church Missionary Society of 800 pounds per annum. In 1861 the contributions of this one section of native Christians had amounted to upwards of 10,000 pounds."--"Manual of Church Missionary Society's African Missions." 
16672	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 16672-h.htm or 16672-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/6/6/7/16672/16672-h/16672-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/6/6/7/16672/16672-h.zip) THE LAST JOURNALS OF DAVID LIVINGSTONE, IN CENTRAL AFRICA, FROM 1865 TO HIS DEATH. Continued by a Narrative of His Last Moments and Sufferings, Obtained from His Faithful Servants Chuma and Susi, by HORACE WALLER, F.R.G.S., Rector Of Twywell, Northampton. IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. I. [1866-1868] With Portrait, Maps, and Illustrations. London: John Murray, Albemarle Street. 1874 INTRODUCTION. In the midst of the universal sorrow caused by the intelligence that Dr. Livingstone had lost his life at the furthest point to which he had penetrated in his search for the true sources of the Nile, a faint hope was indulged that some of his journals might survive the disaster: this hope, I rejoice to say, has been realized beyond the most sanguine expectations. It is due, in the first place, to his native attendants, whose faithfulness has placed his last writings at our disposal, and also to the reader, before he launches forth upon a series of travels and scientific geographical records of the most extraordinary character, to say that in the following narrative of seven years' continuous work and new discovery _no break whatever occurs_. We have not to deplore the loss, by accident or carelessness, of a single entry, from the time of Livingstone's departure from Zanzibar in the beginning of 1866 to the day when his note-book dropped from his hand in the village of Ilala at the end of April, 1873. I trust it will not be uninteresting if I preface the history with a few words on the nature of these journals and writings as they have come to hand from Central Africa. It will be remembered that when Mr. Stanley returned to England in 1872, Dr. Livingstone entrusted to his care a very large Letts' diary, sealed up and consigned to the safe keeping of his daughter, Miss Agnes Livingstone. Upon the confirmation of the worst news, this book was examined and found to contain a considerable portion of the notes which her father made during his travels previous to the time of Mr. Stanley's meeting him. The Doctor's custom was always to have metallic note-books in use, in which the day's jottings were recorded. When time and opportunity served, the larger volume was posted up with scrupulous care. It seems, however, that in the last three or four years of his life this excellent rule had to give way to the toils of travel and the exhaustion of most distressing illnesses. Whilst in the Manyuema country he ran out of note-books, ink, and pencils, and had to resort to shifts which at first made it a very debateable point whether the most diligent attempt at deciphering would suceeed after all. Such pocket-books as remained at this period of his travels were utilized to the last inch of paper. In some of them we find lunar observations, the names of rivers, and the heights of hills advancing towards the middle from one end, whilst from the other the itinerary grows day by day, interspersed with map routes of the march, botanical notes, and carefully made drawings. But in the mean time the middle portion of the book was filling up with calculations, private memoranda, words intended for vocabularies, and extracts from books, whilst here and there the stain of a pressed flower causes indistinctness; yet the thread of the narrative runs throughout. Noting but his invariable habit of constantly repeating the month and year obviates hopeless confusion. Nor is this all; for pocket-books gave out at last, and old newspapers, yellow with African damp, were sewn together, and his notes were written across the type with a substitute for ink made from the juice of a tree. To Miss Livingstone and to the Rev. C.A. Alington I am very much indebted for help in the laborious task of deciphering this portion of the Doctor's journals. Their knowledge of his handwriting, their perseverance, coupled with good eyes and a strong magnifying-glass, at last made their task a complete success. In comparing this great mass of material with the journal brought home by Mr. Stanley, one finds that a great deal of most interesting matter can be added. It would seem that in the hurry of writing and copying despatches previous to his companion's departure, the Doctor rapidly entered up as much from his note-books as time and space permitted. Most fortunately, he still carried the greater part of these original notes till the time of his death, so that they were forthcoming when his effects were subsequently saved. This brings us to the second instalment of the journals, for we have thus acknowledged the first to have reached us on Mr. Stanley's return. When the battered tin travelling-case, which was with Livingstone to the last, was opened at the Foreign Office in the spring of this year, not only were these valuable papers disclosed which I have mentioned, but it was found also that Livingstone had kept a copious journal during his stay at Unyanyembé in some copy-books, and that when his stock of note-books was replenished a daily record of his subsequent travels had been made. It was with fear and trembling that one looked to see whether all had been saved or only part, but with satisfaction and thankfulness I have subsequently discovered that his men preserved every single line, besides his maps, which now come to light for the first time. Thus much on the material of the diaries: it remains to say a few words on the Map which accompanies these journals. It has been compiled from Dr. Livingstone's original drawings and note-books, with the corrections and additions he made from time to time as the work of exploration progressed, and the details of physical geography became clearer to him. The compiler, Mr. John Bolton[1], implicitly following the original outline of the drawing as far as possible, has honestly endeavoured to give such a rendering of the entire work, as the Doctor would have done had he lived to return home, and superintend the construction; and I take this opportunity of expressing my sincere gratification that Mr. Bolton's rare technical skill, scientific knowledge, and unwearying labour have been available for the purpose. Amongst almost the last words that Livingstone wrote, I find an unfinished letter to myself, in which he gives me very clear and explicit directions concerning the geographical notes he had previously sent home, and I am but carrying out the sacred duty which is attached to a last wish when I call attention to the fact, that he particularly desired in this letter that _no positions gathered from his observations for latitude and longitude, nor for the levels of the Lakes, &c., should be considered correct till Sir Thomas Maclear had examined them_. The position of Casembe's town, and of a point near Pambetté at the S.E., and of Lake Liemba (Tanganyika), have been computed and corrected by Sir T. Maclear and Dr. Mann. The observations for latitude were taken at short intervals, and where it has been possible to test them they have been found very correct, but I repeat that until the imprimatur of his old friend at the Cape of Good Hope stands over the whole of Livingstone's work, the map must be accepted as open to further corrections. The journey from Kabwabwata to Mparru has been inserted _entirely_ from notes, as the traveller was too ill to mark the route: this is the only instance in all his wanderings where he failed to give some indication on his map of the nature of the ground over which he passed. The journey front Mikindany Bay to Lake Nyassa has also been laid down from his journal and latitudes in consequence of the section of this part of his route (which he left at Ujiji) not having arrived in England at this date.[2] It will be observed that the outline of Lake Nyassa differs from that on any published map: it has been drawn from the original exploratory survey of its southern shores made by Dr. Livingstone in 1861-3. For some reason this original plan was not adhered to by a former draughtsman, but the Lake has here been restored to a more accurate bearing and position. How often shall we see in the pages of this concluding chapter of his life, that unwavering determination which was pre-eminently the great characteristic of David Livingstone! Naturally endowed with unusual endurance, able to concentrate faculties of no ordinary kind upon whatever he took in hand, and with a dread of exaggeration which at times almost militated against the importance of some of his greatest discoveries, it may be doubted if ever Geographer went forth strengthened with so much true power. Let us add to these a sincere trust that slavery, the "great open sore of the world," as he called it, might under God's good guidance receive healing at his hands; a fervent hope that others would follow him after he had removed those difficulties which are comprised in a profound ignorance of the physical features of a new country, and we have the marching orders of him who left us in August 1865 never to return alive. Privileged to enjoy his near personal friendship for a considerable period in Africa, and also at home, it has been easy to trace--more especially from correspondence with him of late years--that Livingstone wanted just some such gigantic problem as that which he attacked at the last to measure his strength against: that he finally overrated and overtaxed it I think all must admit. He had not sufficiently allowed for an old wound which his constitution received whilst battling with dysentery and fever, on his celebrated journey across Africa, and this finally sapped his vital powers, and, through the irritation of exhaustion, insidiously clouded much of his happiness. Many of his old friends were filled with anxiety when they found that he intended to continue the investigation of the Nile sources, for the letters sent home by Mr. Stanley raised the liveliest apprehensions, which, alas! soon proved themselves well grounded. The reader must be warned that, however versed in books of African travel he may be, the very novelty of his situation amongst these pages will render him liable perhaps to a danger which a timely word may avert. Truly it may be said he has an _embarras de richesses!_ To follow an explorer who by his individual exertions has filled up a great space in the map of Africa, who has not only been the first to set foot on the shores of vast inland seas, but who, with the simple appliances of his bodily stature for a sounding pole and his stalwart stride for a measuring tape, lays down new rivers by the hundreds, is a task calculated to stagger him. It may be provoking to find Livingstone busily engaged in bargaining for a canoe upon the shores of Bangweolo, much as he would have secured a boat on his own native Clyde; but it was not in his nature to be subject to those paroxysms in which travellers too often indite their discoveries and descriptions. At the same time these journals will be found to contain innumerable notes on the habits of animals, birds, and fishes, many of them probably new species, and on phenomena in every direction which the keen eye searched out as the great traveller moved amongst some of the grandest scenes of this beautiful world: it may be doubted if ever eye so keen was backed by so much perseverance to shield it from a mere superficial habit of noticing. Let his adventures speak for themselves. Amongst the greatest facts recorded here the Geographer will perceive that the Doctor has placed it beyond doubt that Lake Nyassa belongs to a totally distinct system of waters to that which holds Lake Tanganyika, and the rivers running north and west. He was too sagacious to venture the surmise that Tanganyika has a subterranean outlet without having duly weighed the probabilities in the scale with his elaborate observations: the idea gathers force when we remember that in the case of limestone cliffs, water so often succeeds in breaking bounds by boring through the solid rock. No more interesting problem is left to solve, and we shall yet learn whether, through the caverns of Western Kabogo, this Lake adds its waters to the vast northerly flow of rivers we now read of for the first time, and which are undoubtedly amongst the largest in the world. I cannot close these remarks without stating how much obliged I am to Mr. James Young, F.R.S., of Kelly, for having ensured the presence of the Doctor's men, Chuma and Susi. Ever ready to serve his old friend Livingstone, he took care that they should be at my elbow so long as I required them to help me amidst the pile of MSS. and maps. Their knowledge of the countries they travelled in is most remarkable, and from constantly aiding their master by putting questions to the natives respecting the course of rivers, &c., I found them actual geographers of no mean attainments. In one instance, when in doubt concerning a particular watershed, to my surprise Susi returned a few hours afterwards with a plan of the whole system of rivers in the region under examination, and I found his sketch tally well with the Doctor's map. Known to me previously for years on the Zambesi and Shiré it was a pleasure to have them with me for four months. Amongst other good services they have aided the artist by reproducing the exact facsimile of the hut in which Dr. Livingstone expired, besides making models of the "kitanda" on which he was carried, and of the village in which his body lay for fourteen days. I need not add what ready and valuable assistance I have derived from the Doctor's old companion Dr. Kirk wherever I have found it necessary to apply to him; some of the illustrations are more particularly owing to his kindness. It only remains to say that it has been thought advisable to retain all the strictly scientific matter found in Dr. Livingstone's journals for future publication. When one sees that a register of the daily rainfall was kept throughout, that the temperature was continually recorded, and that barometrical and hypsometrical observations were made with unflagging thoroughness of purpose year in and year out, it is obvious that an accumulated mass of information remains for the meteorologist to deal with separately, which alone must engross many months of labour. A constant sense of great responsibility has been mine throughout this task, for one cannot doubt that much of the future welfare of distant tribes and races depends upon Livingstone obtaining through these records a distinct hearing for their woes, their misery, and above all for their willingness to welcome men drawn towards them by motives like his. At the same time memory and affection have not failed to bring back vividly the man, the traveller, and the friend. May that which he has said in his journals suffer neither loss of interest nor depth of meaning at the compiler's hands. HORACE WALLER. TWYWELL RECTORY, THRAPSTON, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE. _Nov. 2, 1874._ FOOTNOTES: [1] Attached to Mr. Stanford's staff. [2] In February last this section of the map (as we suppose), together with some of the Doctor's papers, was sent off from Ujiji by Lieutenant Cameron. Nothing, however, had arrived on the 22nd September at Zanzibar, and H.M. Consul, Captain Prideaux, entertained serious doubts at that time whether they would ever come to hand. All Livingstone's journals were saved through other instrumentality, as I have shown. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Arrival at Zanzibar. Hearty reception by Said Majid, the sultan. Murder of Baron van der Decken. The slave-market. Preparations for starting to the interior. Embarkation in H.M.S. _Penguin_ and dhow. Rovuma Bay impracticable. Disembarks at Mikindany. Joy at travelling once more. Trouble with sepoys. Camels attacked by tsetse fly, and by sepoys. Jungle sappers. Meets old enemies. The Makondé. Lake Nangandi. Gum-copal diggings. CHAPTER II. Effect of _Pioneer's_ former visit. The poodle Chitané. Result of tsetse bites. Death of camels and buffaloes. Disaffection of followers. Disputed right of ferry. Mazitu raids. An old friend. Severe privations. The River Loendi. Sepoys mutiny. Dr. Roscher. Desolation. Tattooing. Ornamental teeth. Singular custom. Death of the Nassick boy, Richard. A sad reminiscence. CHAPTER III. Horrors of the slave-trader's track. System of cultivation. Pottery. Special exorcising. Death of the last mule. Rescue of Chirikaloma's wife. Brutalities of the slave-drivers. Mtarika's. Desperate march to Mtaka's. Meets Arab caravans. Dismay of slavers. Dismissal of sepoys. Mataka. The Waiyau metropolis. Great hospitality and good feeling. Mataka restores stolen cattle. Life with the chief. Beauty of country and healthiness of climate. The Waiyau people and their peculiarities. Regrets at the abandonment of Bishop Mackenzie's plans. CHAPTER IV. Geology and description of the Waiyau land. Leaves Mataka's. The Nyumbo plant. Native iron-foundry. Blacksmiths. Makes for the Lake Nyassa. Delight at seeing the Lake once more. The Manganja or Nyassa tribe. Arab slave crossing. Unable to procure passage across. The Kungu fly. Fear of the English amongst slavers. Lake shore. Blue ink. Chitané changes colour. The Nsaka fish. Makalaosé drinks beer. The Sanjika fish. London antiquities. Lake rivers. Mukaté's. Lake Pamalombé. Mponda's. A slave gang. Wikatani discovers his relatives and remains. CHAPTER V. Crosses Cape Maclear. The havildar demoralised. The discomfited chief. Reaches Marenga's town. The earth-sponge. Description of Marenga's town. Rumours of Mazitu. Musa and the Johanna men desert. Reaches Kimsusa's. His delight at seeing the Doctor once more. The fat ram. Kimsusa relates his experience of Livingstone's advice. Chuma finds relatives. Kimsusa solves the transport difficulty nobly. Another old fishing acquaintance. Description of the people and country on the west of the Lake. The Kanthundas. Kauma. Iron-smelting. An African Sir Colin Campbell. Milandos. CHAPTER VI. Progress northwards. An African forest. Destruction by Mazitu. Native salutations. A disagreeable chief. On the watershed between the Lake and the Loangwa River. Extensive iron-workings. An old Nimrod. The Bua River. Lovely scenery. Difficulties of transport. Chilobé. An African Pythoness. Enlists two Waiyou bearers. Ill. The Chitella bean. Rains set in. Arrives at the Loangwa. CHAPTER VII. Crosses the Loangwa. Distressing march. The king-hunter. Great hunger. Christmas feast necessarily postponed. Loss of goats. Honey-hunters. A meal at last. The Babisa. The Mazitu again. Chitembo's. End of 1866. The new year. The northern brim of the great Loangwa Valley. Accident to chronometers. Meal gives out. Escape from a Cobra capella. Pushes for the Chambezé. Death of Chitané. Great pinch for food. Disastrous loss of medicine chest. Bead currency. Babisa. The Chambezé. Reaches Chitapangwa's town. Meets Arab traders from Zanzibar. Sends off letters. Chitapangwa and his people. Complications. CHAPTER VIII. Chitapangwa's parting oath. Course laid for Lake Tanganyika. Moamba's village. Another watershed. The Babemba tribe. Ill with fever. Threatening attitude of Chibué's people. Continued illness. Reaches cliffs overhanging Lake Liemba. Extreme beauty of the scene. Dangerous fit of insensibility. Leaves the Lake. Pernambuco cotton. Rumours of war between Arabs and Nsama. Reaches Chitimba's village. Presents Sultan's letter to principal Arab, Hamees. The war in Itawa. Geography of the Arabs. Ivory traders and slave-dealers. Appeal to the Koran. Gleans intelligence of the Wasongo, to the eastward, and their chief, Meréré. Hamees sets out against Nsama. Tedious sojourn. Departure for Ponda. Native cupping. CHAPTER IX. Peace negotiations with Nsama. Geographical gleanings. Curious spider. Reaches the River Lofu. Arrives at Nsama's. Hamees marries the daughter of Nsama. Flight of the bride. Conflagration in Arab quarters. Anxious to visit Lake Moero. Arab burial. Serious illness. Continues journey. Slave-traders on the march. Reaches Moero. Description of the Lake. Information concerning the Chambezé and Luapula. Hears of Lake Bemba. Visits spot of Dr. Lacerda's death. Casembe apprised of Livingstone's approach. Meets Mohamad Bogharib. Lakelet Mofwé. Arrives at Casembe's town. CHAPTER X. Grand reception of the traveller. Casembe and his wife. Long stay in the town. Goes to explore Moero. Despatch to Lord Clarendon, with notes on recent travels. Illness at the end of 1867. Further exploration of Lake Moero. Flooded plains. The River Luao. Visits Kabwabwata. Joy of Arabs at Mohamad bin Salleh's freedom. Again ill with fever. Stories of underground dwellings. CHAPTER XI Riot in the camp. Mohamad's account of his long imprisonment. Superstitions about children's teeth. Concerning dreams. News of Lake Chowambé. Life of the Arab slavers. The Katanga gold supply. Muabo. Ascent of the Rua Mountains. Syde bin Habib. Birthday, 19th March, 1868. Hostility of Mpwéto. Contemplates visiting Lake Bemba. Nile sources. Men desert. The shores of Moero. Visits Fungafunga. Return to Casembe's. Obstructiveness of "Cropped-ears." Accounts of Pereira and Dr. Lacerda. Major Monteiro. The line of Casembes. Casembe explains the connection of the Lakes and the Luapula. Queen Moäri. Arab sacrifice. Kapika gets rid of his wife. CHAPTER XII. Prepares to examine Lake Bemba. Starts from Casembe's 11th June, 1868. Dead leopard. Moenampanda's reception. The River Luongo. Weird death-song of slaves. The forest grave. Lake Bemba changed to Lake Bangweolo. Chikumbi's. The Imbozhwa people. Kombokombo's stockade. Mazitu difficulties. Discovers Lake Bangweolo on 18th July, 1868. The Lake Chief Mapuni. Description of the Lake. Prepares to navigate it. Embarks for Lifungé Island. Immense size of Lake. Reaches Mpabala Island. Strange dream. Fears of canoe men. Return to shore. March back. Sends letters. Meets Banyamwezi. Reviews recent explorations at length. Disturbed state of country. CHAPTER XIII. Cataracts of the Kalongosi. Passage of the river disputed. Leeches and method of detaching them. Syde bin Habib's slaves escape. Enormous collection of tusks. Ill. Theory of the Nile sources. Tribute to Miss Tinné. Notes on climate. Separation of Lake Nyassa from the Nile system. Observations on Victoria Nyanza. Slaves dying. Repentant deserters. Mohamad Bogharib. Enraged Imbozhwa. An attack. Narrow escape. Renewed attack. A parley. Help arrives. Bin Juma. March from the Imbozhwa country. Slaves escape. Burial of Syde bin Habib's brother. Singular custom. An elephant killed. Native game-laws. Rumour of Baker's Expedition. Christmas dinners. ILLUSTRATIONS. [DR. LIVINGSTONE, though no artist, had acquired a practice of making rude sketches of scenes and objects, which have furnished material for the Engravers in the Illustrations for this book.] Full-page Illustrations. 1. PORTRAIT OF DR. LIVINGSTONE. (From a Photograph by ANNAN) 2. SLAVERS REVENGING THEIR LOSSES 3. SLAVES ABANDONED 4. CHITAPANGWA RECEIVING DR. LIVINGSTONE 5. THE VILLAGE ON LAKE LIEMBA--TANGANYIKA 6. THE ARRIVAL OF HAMEES' BRIDE 7. DISCOVERY OF LAKE BANGWEOLO Smaller Illustrations. 1. DR. LIVINGSTONE'S HOUSE, ZANZIBAR 2. DHOW USED FOR TRANSPORT OF DR. LIVINGSTONE'S CAMELS 3. A THORN-CLIMBER 4. TOMAHAWK AND AXE 5. CARVED DOOR, ZANZIBAR 6. TATTOO OF MATAMBWÉ 7. IMITATION OF BASKET-WORK IN POTTERY 8. DIGGING-STICK WEIGHTED WITH ROUND STONE 9. MANGANJA AND MACHINGA WOMEN 10. TATOO ON WOMEN 11. CARVED STOOL MADE OF A SINGLE WOODEN BLOCK 12. WOMEN'S TEETH HOLLOWED OUT 13. MODE OF FORGING HOES 14. MALLET FOR SEPARATING FIBRES OF BARK 15. THE CHIEF CHITAPANGWA 16. CHITAPANGWA'S WIVES 17. FILED TEETH OF QUEEN MOÄH 18. A FOREST GRAVE GENERAL MAP OF DR. LIVINGSTONE'S OWN DISCOVERIES CHAPTER I. Arrival at Zanzibar. Hearty reception by Said Majid, the Sultan. Murder of Baron van der Decken. The slave-market. Preparations for starting to the interior. Embarkation in H.M.S. _Penguin_ and dhow. Rovuma Bay impracticable. Disembarks at Mikindany. Joy at travelling once more. Trouble with sepoys. Camels attacked by tsetse fly, and by sepoys. Jungle sappers. Meets old enemies. The Makondé. Lake Nangandi. Gum-copal diggings. ZANZIBAR, _28th January, 1866._--After a passage of twenty-three days from Bombay we arrived at this island in the _Thule_, which was one of Captain Sherard Osborne's late Chinese fleet, and now a present from the Bombay Government to the Sultan of Zanzibar. I was honoured with the commission to make the formal presentation, and this was intended by H.E. the Governor-in-Council to show in how much estimation I was held, and thereby induce the Sultan to forward my enterprise. The letter to his Highness was a commendatory epistle in my favour, for which consideration on the part of Sir Bartle Frere I feel deeply grateful. It runs as follows:-- TO HIS HIGHNESS SEJUEL MAJID, SULTAN OF ZANZIBAR. (_Copy._) "YOUR HIGHNESS,--I trust that this will find you in the enjoyment of health and happiness. "I have requested my friend, Dr. David Livingstone, who is already personally well and favourably known to your Highness, to convey to you the assurance of the continual friendship and goodwill of Her Majesty's Government in India. "Your Highness is already aware of the benevolent objects of Dr. Livingstone's life and labours, and I feel assured that your Highness will continue to him the favour and protection which you have already shown to him on former occasions, and that your Highness will direct every aid to be given him within your Highness's dominions which may tend to further the philanthropic designs to which he has devoted himself, and which, as your Highness is aware, are viewed with the warmest interest by Her Majesty's Government both in India and England. "I trust your Highness will favour me with continued accounts of your good health and welfare. "I remain, your Highness's sincere friend, (Signed) "H.B.E. FRERE. "BOMBAY CASTLE, _2nd January, 1866._" When we arrived Dr. Seward, the Acting Consul, was absent at the Seychelles on account of serious failure of health: Mr. Schultz, however, was representing him, but he too was at the time away. Dr. Seward was expected back daily, and he did arrive on the 31st. I requested a private interview with the Sultan, and on the following day (29th) called and told him the nature of my commission to his Highness. He was very gracious, and seemed pleased with the gift, as well he might, for the _Thule_ is fitted up in the most gorgeous manner. We asked a few days to put her in perfect order, and this being the Ramadân, or fasting month, he was all the more willing to defer a visit to the vessel. Dr. Seward arranged to have an audience with the Sultan, to carry out his instructions, which were to present me in a formal manner; Captain Bradshaw of the _Wasp_, with Captain Leatham of the _Vigilant_, and Bishop Tozer, were to accompany us in full dress, but the Sultan had a toothache and gumboil, and could not receive us; he, however, placed one of his houses at my disposal, and appointed a man who speaks English to furnish board for my men and me, and also for Captain Brebner, of the _Thule_, and his men. [Illustration: Livingstone's House, Zanzibar.] _6th February, 1866._--The Sultan being still unable to come, partly on account of toothache and partly on account of Ramadân, he sent his commodore, Captain Abdullah, to receive the _Thule_. When the English flag was hauled down in the _Thule_, it went up to the mainmast of the _Iskander Shah_, and was saluted by twenty-one guns; then the _Wasp_ saluted the Arab flag with an equal number, which honour being duly acknowledged by a second royal salute from the _Iskander Shah_, Captain Abdullah's frigate, the ceremony ended. Next day, the 7th, we were received by the Sultan, and through his interpreter, I told him that his friend, the Governor of Bombay, had lately visited the South Mahratta Princes, and had pressed on them the necessity of education; the world was moving on, and those who neglected to acquire knowledge would soon find that power slipped through their fingers, and that the Bombay Government, in presenting his Highness with a portion of steam power, showed its desire to impart one of the greatest improvements of modern times, not desiring to monopolize power, but hoping to lift up others with themselves, and I wished him to live a hundred years and enjoy all happiness. The idea was borrowed partly from Sir Bartle Frere's addresses, because I thought it would have more weight if he heard a little from that source than if it emanated from myself. He was very anxious that Captain Brebner and his men, in returning to India, should take a passage from him in the _Nadir Shah_, one of his men-of-war, and though he had already placed his things aboard the _Vigilant_, to proceed to Seychelles, and thence to Bombay, we persuaded Captain Brebner to accept his Highness's hospitality. He had evidently set his heart on sending them back with suitable honours, and an hour after consent was given to go by the _Nadir Shah_, he signed an order for the money to fit her out. _11th February, 1866._--One of the foremost subjects that naturally occupied my mind here was the sad loss of the Baron van der Decken, on the River Juba, or Aljib. The first intimation of the unfortunate termination of his explorations was the appearance of Lieutenant von Schich at this place, who had left without knowing whether his leader were dead or alive, but an attack had been made on the encampment which had been planned after the steamer struck the rocks and filled, and two of the Europeans were killed. The attacking party came from the direction in which the Baron and Dr. Link went, and three men of note in it were slain. Von Schich went back from Zanzibar to Brava to ascertain the fate of the Baron, and meanwhile several native sailors from Zanzibar had been allowed to escape from the scene of confusion to Brava. _18th February, 1866._--All the Europeans went to pay visits of congratulation to his Highness the Sultan upon the conclusion of the Ramadân, when sweetmeats were placed before us. He desired me to thank the Governor of Bombay for his magnificent gift, and to state that although he would like to have me always with him, yet he would show me the same favour in Africa which he had done here: he added that the _Thule_ was at my service to take me to the Rovuma whenever I wished to leave. I replied that nothing had been wanting on his part; he had done more than I expected, and I was sure that his Excellency the Governor would be delighted to hear that the vessel promoted his health and prosperity; nothing would delight him more than this. He said that he meant to go out in her on Wednesday next (20th): Bishop Tozer, Captain Fraser, Dr. Steere, and all the English were present. The sepoys came in and did obeisance; and I pointed out the Nassick lads as those who had been rescued from slavery, educated, and sent back to their own country by the Governor. Surely he must see that some people in the world act from other than selfish motives. In the afternoon Sheikh Sulieman, his secretary, came with a letter for the Governor, to be conveyed by Lieutenant Brebner, I.N., in the _Nadir Shah_, which is to sail to-morrow. He offered money to the lieutenant, but this could not be heard of for a moment. The translation of the letter is as follows, and is an answer to that which I brought. TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR OF BOMBAY. [After compliments.] "... The end of my desire is to know ever that your Excellency's health is good. As for me--your friend--I am very well. "Your honoured letter borne by Dr. Livingstone duly reached me, and all that you said about him I understood. "I will show him respect, give him honour, and help him in all his affairs; and that I have already done this, I trust he will tell you. "I hope you will let me rest in your heart, and that you will send me many letters. "If you need anything I shall be glad, and will give it. "Your sincere friend, "MAJID BIN SAID. "Dated 2nd Shaul, 1282 (18th February, 1866)." _2nd March, 1866._--A northern dhow came in with slaves; when this was reported to the Sultan he ordered it to be burned, and we saw this done from the window of the Consulate; but he has very little power over Northern Arabs. He has shown a little vigour of late. He wished to raise a revenue by a charge of 10 per cent. on all articles brought into town for sale, but this is clearly contrary to treaty, which provides that no monopoly shall be permitted, and no dues save that of 5 per cent. import duty. The French Consul bullies him: indeed the French system of dealing with the natives is well expressed by that word; no wonder they cannot gain influence among them: the greatest power they exercise is by lending their flag to slaving dhows, so that it covers that nefarious traffic. The stench arising from a mile and a half or two square miles of exposed sea beach, which is the general depository of the filth of the town, is quite horrible. At night it is so gross or crass one might cut out a slice and manure a garden with it: it might be called Stinkibar rather than Zanzibar. No one can long enjoy good health here. On visiting the slave-market I found about 300 slaves exposed for sale, the greater part of whom came from Lake Nyassa and the Shiré River; I am so familiar with the peculiar faces and markings or tattooings, that I expect them to recognize me. Indeed one woman said that she had heard of our passing up Lake Nyassa in a boat, but she did not see me: others came from Chipéta, S.W. of the Lake. All who have grown up seem ashamed at being hawked about for sale. The teeth are examined, the cloth lifted up to examine the lower limbs, and a stick is thrown for the slave to bring, and thus exhibit his paces. Some are dragged through the crowd by the hand, and the price called out incessantly: most of the purchasers were Northern Arabs and Persians. This is the period when the Sultan's people may not carry slaves coastwise; but they simply cannot, for the wind is against them. Many of the dhows leave for Madagascar, and thence come back to complete their cargoes. The Arabs are said to treat their slaves kindly, and this also may be said of native masters; the reason is, master and slave partake of the general indolence, but the lot of the slave does not improve with the general progress in civilization. While no great disparity of rank exists, his energies are little tasked, but when society advances, wants multiply; and to supply these the slave's lot grows harder. The distance between master and man increases as the lust of gain is developed, hence we can hope for no improvement in the slave's condition, unless the master returns to or remains in barbarism. _6th March, 1866._--Rains have begun now that the sun is overhead. We expect the _Penguin_ daily to come from Johanna, and take us to the Rovuma. It is an unwholesome place; six of my men have fever; few retain health long, and considering the lowness of the island, and the absence of sanitary regulations in the town, it is not to be wondered at. The Sultan has little power, being only the successor to the captain of the horde of Arabs who came down and overran the island and maritime coasts of the adjacent continent. He is called only Said or Syed, never Sultan; and they can boast of choosing a new one if he does not suit them. Some coins were found in digging here which have Cufic inscriptions, and are about 900 years old. The island is low; the highest parts may not be more than 150 feet above the sea; it is of a coral formation, with sandstone conglomerate. Most of the plants are African, but clove-trees, mangoes, and cocoa-nut groves give a luxuriant South Sea Island look to the whole scenery. We visited an old man to-day, the richest in Zanzibar, who is to give me letters to his friends at Tanganyika, and I am trying to get a depôt of goods for provisions formed there, so that when I reach it I may not be destitute. _18th March, 1866._--I have arranged with Koorje, a Banian, who farms the custom-house revenue here, to send a supply of beads, cloth, flour, tea, coffee, and sugar, to Ujiji, on Lake Tanganyika. The Arab there, with whom one of Koorje's people will remain in charge of the goods, is called Thani bin Suelim. Yesterday we went to take leave of the Sultan, and to thank him for all his kindness to me and my men, which has indeed been very great. He offered me men to go with me, and another letter if I wished it. He looks very ill. I have received very great kindness during my stay from Dr. and Mrs. Seward. They have done everything for me in their power: may God Almighty return it all abundantly into their bosoms, in the way that He best can. Dr. Seward's views of the policy pursued here I have no doubt are the right ones; in fact, the only ones which can be looked back to with satisfaction, or that have probability of success among a race of Pariah Arabs. The _Penguin_ came a few days ago, and Lieutenant Garforth in command agrees to take me down to the Rovuma River, and land me there. I have a dhow to take my animals: six camels, three buffaloes, and a calf, two mules, and four donkeys. I have thirteen Sepoys, ten Johanna men, nine Nassick boys, two Shupanga men, and two Wayaus, Wekatani and Chuma.[3] [It may be well to point out that several of these men had previously been employed by Dr. Livingstone on the Zambesi and Shiré; thus Musa, the Johanna man, was a sailor on the _Lady Nyassa_, whilst Susi and Amoda were engaged at Shupanga to cut wood for the _Pioneer_. The two Waiyau lads, Wakatani and Chuma, were liberated from the slavers by the Doctor and Bishop Mackenzie in 1861, and lived for three years with the Mission party at Chibisa's before they were engaged by Livingstone. The Nassick lads were entire strangers, and were trained in India.] _19th March, 1866._--We start this morning at 10 A.M. I trust that the Most High may prosper me in this work, granting me influence in the eyes of the heathen, and helping me to make my intercourse beneficial to them. _22nd March, 1866._--We reached Rovuma Bay to-day, and anchored about two miles from the mouth of the river, in five fathoms. I went up the left bank to see if the gullies which formerly ran into the bay had altered, so as to allow camels to cross them: they seemed to have become shallower. There was no wind for the dhow, and as for the man-of-war towing her, it was out of the question. On the 23rd the cutter did try to tow the dhow, but without success, as a strong tide runs constantly out of the river at this season. A squall came up from the S.E., which would have taken the dhow in, but the master was on board the _Penguin_, and said he had no large sail. I got him off to his vessel, but the wind died away before we could reach the mouth of the river. _24th March, 1866._--I went to the dhow, and there being no wind I left orders with the captain to go up the right bank should a breeze arise. Mr. Fane, midshipman, accompanied me up the left bank above, to see if we could lead the camels along in the water. Near the point where the river first makes a little bend to the north, we landed and found three formidable gullies, and jungle so thick with bush, date-palms, twining bamboo, and hooked thorns, that one could scarcely get along. Further inland it was sticky mud, thickly planted over with mangrove roots and gullies in whose soft banks one sank over the ankles. No camels could have moved, and men with extreme difficulty might struggle through; but we never could have made an available road. We came to a she-hippopotamus lying in a ditch, which did not cover her; Mr. Fane fired into her head, and she was so upset that she nearly fell backward in plunging up the opposite bank: her calf was killed, and was like sucking-pig, though in appearance as large as a full-grown sow. We now saw that the dhow had a good breeze, and she came up along the right bank and grounded at least a mile from the spot where the mangroves ceased. The hills, about two hundred feet high, begin about two or three miles above that, and they looked invitingly green and cool. My companion and I went from the dhow inland, to see if the mangroves gave way, to a more walkable country, but the swamp covered over thickly with mangroves only became worse the farther we receded from the river. The whole is flooded at high tides, and had we landed all the men we should have been laid up with fever ere we could have attained the higher land, which on the right bank bounds the line of vision, and the first part of which lies so near. I thought I had better land on the sand belt on the left of Rovuma Bay, and then explore and get information from the natives, none of whom had as yet come near us, so I ordered the dhow to come down to the spot next day, and went on board the _Penguin_. Lieutenant Garforth was excessively kind, and though this is his best time for cruising in the North, he most patiently agreed to wait and help me to land. _24th March, 1866._--During the night it occurred to me that we should be in a mess if after exploration and information from the natives we could find no path, and when I mentioned this, Lieutenant Garforth suggested that we should proceed to Kilwa, so at 5 A.M. I went up to the dhow with Mr. Fane, and told the captain that we were going there. He was loud in his protestations against this, and strongly recommended the port of Mikindany, as quite near to Rovuma, Nyassa, and the country I wished to visit, besides being a good landing-place, and the finest port on the coast. Thither we went, and on the same evening landed all our animals in Mikindany bay, which lies only twenty-five miles N. of Rovuma. The _Penguin_ then left. The Rovuma is quite altered from what it was when first we visited it. It is probable that the freshets form banks inside the mouth, which are washed out into the deep bay, and this periodical formation probably has prevented the Arabs from using the Rovuma as a port of shipment. It is not likely that Mr. May[4] would have made a mistake if the middle were as shoal as now: he found soundings of three fathoms or more. [Illustration: Dhow used for Transport of Dr. Livingstone's Camels.] _25th March, 1866._--I hired a house for four dollars a month and landed all our goods from the dhow. The bay gives off a narrow channel, about 500 yards wide and 200 yards long, the middle is deep, but the sides are coral reefs and shoal: the deep part seems about 100 yards wide. Outside in the Bay of Mikindany there is no anchorage except on the edge of the reef where the _Penguin_ got seven fathoms, but further in it was only two fathoms. The inner bay is called Pemba, not Pimlea, as erroneously printed in the charts of Owen. It is deep and quite sheltered; another of a similar round form lies somewhat to the south: this bay may be two miles square. The cattle are all very much the worse for being knocked about in the dhow. We began to prepare saddles of a very strong tree called Ntibwé, which is also used for making the hooked spear with which hippopotami are killed--the hook is very strong and tough; I applied also for twenty carriers and a Banian engaged to get them as soon as possible. The people have no cattle here, they are half-caste Arabs mostly, and quite civil to us. _26th March, 1866._--A few of the Nassick boys have the slave spirit pretty strongly; it goes deepest in those who have the darkest skins. Two Gallah men are the most intelligent and hardworking among them; some look on work with indifference when others are the actors. Now that I am on the point of starting on another trip into Africa I feel quite exhilarated: when one travels with the specific object in view of ameliorating the condition of the natives every act becomes ennobled. Whether exchanging the customary civilities, or arriving at a village, accepting a night's lodging, purchasing food for the party, asking for information, or answering polite African enquiries as to our objects in travelling, we begin to spread a knowledge of that people by whose agency their land will yet become enlightened and freed from the slave-trade. The mere animal pleasure of travelling in a wild unexplored country is very great. When on lands of a couple of thousand feet elevation, brisk exercise imparts elasticity to the muscles, fresh and healthy blood circulates through the brain, the mind works well, the eye is clear, the step is firm, and a day's exertion always makes the evening's repose thoroughly enjoyable. We have usually the stimulus of remote chances of danger either from beasts or men. Our sympathies are drawn out towards our humble hardy companions by a community of interests, and, it may be, of perils, which make us all friends. Nothing but the most pitiable puerility would lead any manly heart to make their inferiority a theme for self-exaltation; however, that is often done, as if with the vague idea that we can, by magnifying their deficiencies, demonstrate our immaculate perfections. The effect of travel on a man whose heart is in the right place is that the mind is made more self-reliant: it becomes more confident of its own resources--there is greater presence of mind. The body is soon well-knit; the muscles of the limbs grow as hard as a board, and seem to have no fat; the countenance is bronzed, and there is no dyspepsia. Africa is a most wonderful country for appetite, and it is only when one gloats over marrow bones or elephant's feet that indigestion is possible. No doubt much toil is involved, and fatigue of which travellers in the more temperate climes can form but a faint conception; but the sweat of one's brow is no longer a curse when one works for God: it proves a tonic to the system, and is actually a blessing. No one can truly appreciate the charm of repose unless he has undergone severe exertion. _27th March, 1866._--The point of land which on the north side of the entrance to the harbour narrows it to about 300 yards is alone called Pemba; the other parts have different names. Looking northwards from the point, the first hundred yards has ninety square houses of wattled daub; a ruin (a mosque) has been built of lime and coral. The whole point is coral, and the soil is red, and covered over with dense tropical vegetation, in which the baobab is conspicuous. Dhows at present come in with ease by the easterly wind which blows in the evening, and leave next morning, the land wind taking them out. While the camels and other animals are getting over their fatigues and bad bruises, we are making camels' saddles, and repairing those of the mules and buffaloes. Oysters abound on all the rocks and on the trees over which the tide flows: they are small, but much relished by the people. The Arabs here are a wretched lot physically--thin, washed-out creatures--many with bleared eyes. _29-30th March, 1866._--- This harbour has somewhat the shape of a bent bow or the spade on a playing-card, the shaft of the arrow being the entrance in; the passage is very deep, but not more than 100 yards wide, and it goes in nearly S.W.; inside it is deep and quite secure, and protected from all winds. The lands westward rise at once to about 200 feet, and John, a hill, is the landmark by which it is best known in coming along the coast--so say the Arabs. The people have no cattle, but say there are no tsetse flies: they have not been long here, _i.e._ under the present system; but a ruin on the northern peninsula or face of the entrance, built of stone and lime--Arab-fashion, and others on the north-west, show that the place has been known and used of old. The adjacent country has large game at different water pools, and as the whole country is somewhat elevated it probably is healthy. There is very little mangrove, but another enclosed piece of water to the south of this probably has more. The language of the people here is Swaheli; they trade a little in gum-copal and Orchilla weed. An agent of the Zanzibar custom-house presides over the customs, which are very small, and a jemidar acknowledging the Sultan is the chief authority; but the people are little superior to the natives whom they have displaced. The jemidar has been very civil to me, and gives me two guides to go on to Adondé, but no carriers can be hired. Water is found in wells in the coral rock which underlies the whole place. _4th April, 1866._--When about to start from Pemba, at the entrance to the other side of the bay one of our buffaloes gored a donkey so badly that he had to be shot: we cut off the tips of the offender's horns, on the principle of "locking the stable-door when the steed is stolen," and marched. We came to level spots devoid of vegetation, and hard on the surface, but a deposit of water below allowed the camels to sink up to their bodies through the crust. Hauling them out, we got along to the jemidar's house, which is built of coral and lime. Hamesh was profuse in his professions of desire to serve, but gave a shabby hut which let in rain and wind. I slept one night in it, and it was unbearable, so I asked the jemidar to allow me to sleep in his court-room, where many of the sepoys were: he consented, but when I went refused; then, being an excitable, nervous Arab, he took fright, mustered all his men, amounting to about fifteen, with matchlocks; ran off, saying he was going to kill a lion; came back, shook hands nervously with me, vowing it was a man who would not obey him, "it was not you." Our goods were all out in the street, bound on the pack-saddles, so at night we took the ordinary precaution of setting a guard. This excited our dignitary, and after dark all his men were again mustered with matches lighted. I took no notice of him, and after he had spent a good deal of talk, which we could hear, he called Musa and asked what I meant. The explanations of Musa had the effect of sending him to bed, and in the morning, when I learned how much I had most unintentionally disturbed him, I told him that I was sorry, but it did not occur to me to tell him about an ordinary precaution against thieves. He thought he had given me a crushing reply when he said with vehemence, "But there are no thieves here." I did not know till afterwards that he and others had done me an ill turn in saying that no carriers could be hired from the independent tribes adjacent. They are low-coast Arabs, three-quarters African, and, as usual, possess the bad without the good qualities of both parents. Many of them came and begged brandy, and laughed when they remarked that they could drink it in secret but not openly; they have not, however, introduced it as an article of trade, as we Christians have done on the West Coast. _6th April, 1866._--We made a short march round to the south-west side of the Lake, and spent the night at a village in that direction. There are six villages dotted round the inner harbour, and the population may amount to 250 or 300 souls--coast Arabs and their slaves; the southern portion of the harbour is deep, from ten to fourteen fathoms, but the north-western part is shoal and rocky. Very little is done in the way of trade; some sorghum, sem-sem seed, gum-copal, and orchilla weed, constitute the commerce of the port: I saw two Banian traders settled here. _7th April, 1866._--Went about south from Kindany with a Somalie guide, named Ben Ali or Bon Ali, a good-looking obliging man, who was to get twenty dollars to take us up to Ngomano. Our path lay in a valley, with well-wooded heights on each side, but the grass towered over our heads, and gave the sensation of smothering, whilst the sun beat down on our heads very fiercely, and there was not a breath of air stirring. Not understanding camels, I had to trust to the sepoys who overloaded them, and before we had accomplished our march of about seven miles they were knocked up. _8th April, 1866._--We spent the Sunday at a village called Nyañgedi. Here on the evening of the 7th April our buffaloes and camels were first bitten by the tsetse fly.[5] We had passed through some pieces of dense jungle which, though they offered no obstruction to foot-passengers, but rather an agreeable shade, had to be cut for the tall camels, and fortunately we found the Makondé of this village glad to engage themselves by the day either as woodcutters or carriers. We had left many things with the jemidar from an idea that no carriers could be procured. I lightened the camels, and had a party of woodcutters to heighten and widen the path in the dense jungle into which we now penetrated. Every now and then we emerged on open spaces, where the Makondé have cleared gardens for sorghum, maize, and cassava. The people were very much more taken up with the camels and buffaloes than with me. They are all independent of each other, and no paramount chief exists. Their foreheads may be called compact, narrow, and rather low; the _alae nasi_ expanded laterally; lips full, not excessively thick; limbs and body well formed; hands and feet small; colour dark and light-brown; height middle size, and bearing independent. _10th April, 1866._--We reached a village called Narri, lat. 10° 23' 14" S. Many of the men had touches of fever. I gave medicine to eleven of them, and next morning all were better. Food is abundant and cheap. Our course is nearly south, and in "wadys," from which, following the trade-road, we often ascend the heights, and then from the villages, which are on the higher land, we descend to another on the same wady. No running water is seen; the people depend on wells for a supply. _11th April, 1866._--At Tandahara we were still ascending as we went south; the soil is very fertile, with a good admixture of sand in it, but no rocks are visible. Very heavy crops of maize and sorghum are raised, and the cassava bushes are seven feet in height. The bamboos are cleared off them, spread over the space to be cultivated and burned to serve as manure. Iron is very scarce, for many of the men appear with wooden spears; they find none here, but in some spots where an ooze issued from the soil iron rust appeared. At each of the villages where we spent a night we presented a fathom of calico, and the headman always gave a fowl or two, and a basket of rice or maize. The Makondé dialect is quite different from Swaheli, but from their intercourse with the coast Arabs many of the people here have acquired a knowledge of Swaheli. [Illustration: A Thorn-climber.] _12th April, 1866._--On starting we found the jungle so dense that the people thought "there was no cutting it:" it continued upwards of three miles. The trees are not large, but so closely planted together that a great deal of labour was required to widen and heighten the path: where bamboos prevail they have starved out the woody trees. The reason why the trees are not large is because all the spaces we passed over were formerly garden ground before the Makondé had been thinned by the slave-trade. As soon as a garden is deserted, a thick crop of trees of the same sorts as those formerly cut down springs up, and here the process of woody trees starving out their fellows, and occupying the land without dense scrub below, has not had time to work itself out. Many are mere poles, and so intertwined with climbers as to present the appearance of a ship's ropes and cables shaken in among them, and many have woody stems as thick as an eleven-inch hawser. One species may be likened to the scabbard of a dragoon's sword, but along the middle of the flat side runs a ridge, from which springs up every few inches a bunch of inch-long straight sharp thorns. It hangs straight for a couple of yards, but as if it could not give its thorns a fair chance of mischief, it suddenly bends on itself, and all its cruel points are now at right angles to what they were before. Darwin's observation shows a great deal of what looks like instinct in these climbers. This species seems to be eager for mischief; its tangled limbs hang out ready to inflict injury on all passers-by. Another climber is so tough it is not to be broken by the fingers; another appears at its root as a young tree, but it has the straggling habits of its class, as may be seen by its cords stretched some fifty or sixty feet off; it is often two inches in diameter; you cut it through at one part and find it reappear forty yards off. [Illustration: Tomahawk and Axe.] Another climber is like the leaf of an aloe, but convoluted as strangely as shavings from the plane of a carpenter. It is dark green in colour, and when its bark is taken off it is beautifully striated beneath, lighter and darker green, like the rings of growth on wood; still another is a thin string with a succession of large knobs, and another has its bark pinched up all round at intervals so as to present a great many cutting edges. One sort need scarcely be mentioned, in which all along its length are strong bent hooks, placed in a way that will hold one if it can but grapple with him, for that is very common and not like those mentioned, which the rather seem to be stragglers from the carboniferous period of geologists, when Pachydermata wriggled unscathed among tangled masses worse than these. We employed about ten jolly young Makondé to deal with these prehistoric plants in their own way, for they are accustomed to clearing spaces for gardens, and went at the work with a will, using tomahawks well adapted for the work. They whittled away right manfully, taking an axe when any trees had to be cut. Their pay, arranged beforehand, was to be one yard of calico per day: this is not much, seeing we are still so near the sea-coast. Climbers and young trees melted before them like a cloud before the sun! Many more would have worked than we employed, but we used the precaution of taking the names of those engaged. The tall men became exhausted soonest, while the shorter men worked vigorously still--but a couple of days' hard work seemed to tell on the best of them. It is doubtful if any but meat-eating people can stand long-continued labour without exhaustion: the Chinese may be an exception. When French navvies were first employed they could not do a tithe of the work of our English ones; but when the French were fed in the same style as the English, they performed equally well. Here the Makondé have rarely the chance of a good feed of meat: it is only when one of them is fortunate enough to spear a wild hog or an antelope that they know this luxury; if a fowl is eaten they get but a taste of it with their porridge. _13th April, 1866._--We now began to descend the northern slope down to the Rovuma, and a glimpse could occasionally be had of the country; it seemed covered with great masses of dark green forest, but the undulations occasionally looked like hills, and here and there a Sterculia had put on yellow foliage in anticipation of the coming winter. More frequently our vision was circumscribed to a few yards till our merry woodcutters made for us the pleasant scene of a long vista fit for camels to pass: as a whole, the jungle would have made the authors of the natty little hints to travellers smile at their own productions, good enough, perhaps, where one has an open country with trees and hills; by which to take bearings, estimate distances, see that one point is on the same latitude, another on the same longitude with such another, and all to be laid down fair and square with protractor and compass, but so long as we remained within the vegetation, that is fed by the moisture from the Indian Ocean, the steamy, smothering air, and dank, rank, luxuriant vegetation made me feel, like it, struggling for existence,--and no more capable of taking bearings than if I had been in a hogshead and observing through the bunghole! An old Monyiñko headman presented a goat and asked if the sepoys wished to cut its throat: the Johannees, being of a different sect of Mahometans, wanted to cut it in some other way than their Indian co-religionists: then ensued a fierce dispute as to who was of the right sort of Moslem! It was interesting to see that not Christians alone, but other nations feel keenly on religious subjects. I saw rocks of grey sandstone (like that which overlies coal) and the Rovuma in the distance. Didi is the name of a village whose headsman, Chombokëa, is said to be a doctor; all the headmen pretend or are really doctors; however one, Fundindomba, came after me for medicine for himself. _14th April, 1866._--To-day we succeeded in reaching the Rovuma, where some very red cliffs appear on the opposite heights, and close by where it is marked on the map that the _Pioneer_ turned back in 1861. Here we rested on Sunday 15th. _16th April, 1866._--Our course now lay westwards, along the side of that ragged outline of table-land, which we had formerly seen from the river as flanking both sides. There it appeared a range of hills shutting in Rovuma, here we had spurs jutting out towards the river, and valleys retiring from a mile to three miles inland. Sometimes we wended our way round them, sometimes rose over and descended their western sides, and then a great deal of wood-cutting was required. The path is not straight, but from one village to another. We came perpetually on gardens, and remarked that rice was sown among the other grain; there must be a good deal of moisture at other times to admit of this succeeding: at present the crops were suffering for want of rain. We could purchase plenty of rice for the sepoys, and well it was so, for the supply which was to last till we arrived at Ngomano was finished on the 13th. An old doctor, with our food awaiting, presented me with two large bags of rice and his wife husked it for us. _17th April, 1866._--I had to leave the camels in the hands of the sepoys: I ordered them to bring as little luggage as possible, and the Havildar assured me that two buffaloes were amply sufficient to carry all they would bring. I now find that they have more than full loads for two buffaloes, two mules, and two donkeys; but when these animals fall down under them, they assure me with so much positiveness that they are not overloaded, that I have to be silent, or only, as I have several times done before, express the opinion that they will kill these animals. This observation on my part leads them to hide their things in the packs of the camels, which also are over-burdened. I fear that my experiment with the tsetse will be vitiated, but no symptoms yet occur in any of the camels except weariness.[6] The sun is very sharp; it scorches. Nearly all the sepoys had fever, but it is easily cured; they never required to stop marching, and we cannot make over four or five miles a day, which movement aids in the cure. In all cases of fever removal from the spot of attack should be made: after the fever among the sepoys, the Nassick boys took their turn along with the Johannees. _18th April, 1866._--Ben Ali misled us away up to the north in spite of my protest, when we turned in that direction; he declared that was the proper path. We had much wood-cutting, and found that our course that day and next was to enable him to visit and return from one of his wives--a comely Makondé woman! He brought her to call on me, and I had to be polite to the lady, though we lost a day by the zigzag. This is one way by which the Arabs gain influence; a great many very light-coloured people are strewed among the Makondé, but only one of these had the Arab hair. On asking Ali whether any attempts had been made by Arabs to convert those with whom they enter into such intimate relationships, he replied that the Makondé had no idea of a Deity--no one could teach them, though Makondé slaves when taken to the coast and elsewhere were made Mahometans. Since the slave-trade was introduced this tribe has much diminished in numbers, and one village makes war upon another and kidnaps, but no religious teaching has been attempted. The Arabs come down to the native ways, and make no efforts to raise the natives to theirs; it is better that it is so, for the coast Arab's manners and morals would be no improvement on the pagan African! _19th April, 1866._--We were led up over a hill again, and on to the level of the plateau (where the evaporation is greater than in the valley), and tasted water of an agreeable coldness for the first time this journey. The people, especially the women, are very rude, and the men very eager to be employed as woodcutters. Very merry they are at it, and every now and then one raises a cheerful shout, in which all join. I suppose they are urged on by a desire to please their wives with a little clothing. The higher up the Rovuma we ascend the people are more and more tattooed on the face, and on all parts of the body. The teeth are filed to points, and huge lip-rings are worn by the women; some few Mabeha men from the south side of the river have lip-rings too. _20th April, 1866._--A Johanna man allowed the camels to trespass and destroy a man's tobacco patch: the owner would not allow us after this to pass through his rice-field, in which the route lay. I examined the damage, and made the Johanna man pay a yard of calico for it, which set matters all right. Tsetse are biting the buffaloes again. Elephants, hippopotami, and pigs are the only game here, but we see none: the tsetse feed on them. In the low meadow land, from one to three miles broad, which lies along both banks, we have brackish pools, and one, a large one, which we passed, called Wrongwé, had much fish, and salt is got from it. _21st April, 1866._--After a great deal of cutting we reached the valley of Mehambwé to spend Sunday, all glad that it had come round again. Here some men came to our camp from Ndondé, who report that an invasion of Mazitu had three months ago swept away all the food out of the country, and they are now obliged to send in every direction for provisions. When saluting, they catch each other's hands and say, "Ai! Ai!" but the general mode (introduced, probably by the Arabs) is to take hold of the right hand, and say, "Marhaba" (welcome). A wall-eyed ill-looking fellow, who helped to urge on the attack on our first visit in 1861, and the man to whom I gave cloth to prevent a collision, came about us disguised in a jacket. I knew him well, but said nothing to him.[7] _23rd April, 1866._--When we marched this morning we passed the spot where an animal had been burned in the fire, and on enquiry I found that it is the custom when a leopard is killed to take off the skin and consume the carcase thus, because the Makondé do not eat it. The reason they gave for not eating flesh which is freely eaten by other tribes, is that the leopard devours men; this shows the opposite of an inclination to cannibalism. All the rocks we had seen showed that the plateau consists of grey sandstone, capped by a ferruginous sandy conglomerate. We now came to blocks of silicified wood lying on the surface; it is so like recent wood, that no one who has not handled it would conceive it to be stone and not wood: the outer surface preserves the grain or woody fibre, the inner is generally silica. Buffaloes bitten by tsetse again show no bad effects from it: one mule is, however, dull and out of health; I thought that this might be the effect of the bite till I found that his back was so strained that he could not stoop to drink, and could only eat the tops of the grasses. An ox would have been ill in two days after the biting on the 7th. A carrier stole a shirt, and went off unsuspected; when the loss was ascertained, the man's companions tracked him with Ben Ali by night, got him in his hut, and then collected the headmen of the village, who fined him about four times the value of what had been stolen. They came back in the morning without seeming to think that they had done aught to be commended; this was the only case of theft we had noticed, and the treatment showed a natural sense of justice. _24th April, 1866._--We had showers occasionally, but at night all the men were under cover of screens. The fevers were speedily cured; no day was lost by sickness, but we could not march more than a few miles, owing to the slowness of the sepoys; they are a heavy drag on us, and of no possible use, except when acting as sentries at night. When in the way between Kendany and Rovuma, I observed a plant here, called _Mandaré_, the root of which is in taste and appearance like a waxy potato; I saw it once before at the falls below the Barotsé Valley, in the middle of the continent; it had been brought there by an emigrant, who led out the water for irrigation, and it still maintained its place in the soil. Would this not prove valuable in the soil of India? I find that it is not cultivated further up the country of the Makondé, but I shall get Ali to secure some for Bombay. _25th April, 1866._--A serpent bit Jack, our dog, above the eye, the upper eyelid swelled very much, but no other symptoms appeared, and next day all swelling was gone; the serpent was either harmless, or the quantity of poison injected very small. The pace of the camels is distressingly slow, and it suits the sepoys to make it still slower than natural by sitting down to smoke and eat. The grass is high and ground under it damp and steamy. _26th April, 1866._--On the 25th we reached Narri, and resolved to wait the next day and buy food, as it is not so plentiful in front; the people are eager traders in meal, fowls, eggs, and honey; the women are very rude. Yesterday I caught a sepoy, Pando, belabouring a camel with a big stick as thick as any part of his arm, the path being narrow, it could not get out of his way; I shouted to him to desist; he did not know I was in sight, to-day the effect of the bad usage is seen in the animal being quite unable to move its leg: inflammation has set up in the hip-joint. I am afraid that several bruises which have festered on the camels, and were to me unaccountable, have been wilfully bestowed. This same Pando and another left Zanzibar drunk: he then stole a pair of socks from me, and has otherwise been perfectly useless, even a pimple on his leg was an excuse for doing nothing for many days. We had to leave this camel at Narri under charge of the headman. _28th April, 1866._--The hills on the north now retire out of our sight. A gap in the southern plateau gives passage to a small river, which arises in a lakelet of some size, eight or ten miles inland: the river and lakelet are both called Nangadi; the latter is so broad that men cannot be distinguished, even by the keen eyes of the natives on the other side: it is very deep, and abounds in large fish; the people who live there are Mabiha. A few miles above this gap the southern highland falls away, and there are lakelets on marshes, also abounding in fish, an uninhabited space next succeeds, and then we have the Matambwé country, which extends up to Ngomano. The Matambwé seem to be a branch of the Makondé, and a very large one: their country extends a long way south, and is well stocked with elephants and gum-copal trees. They speak a language slightly different from that of the Makondé, but they understand them. The Matambwé women are, according to Ali, very dark, but very comely, though they do wear the lip-ring. They carry their ivory, gum-copal, and slaves to Ibo or Wibo. _29th April, 1866._--We spend Sunday, the 29th, on the banks of the Rovuma, at a village called Nachuchu, nearly opposite Konayumba, the first of the Matambwé, whose chief is called Kimbembé. Ali draws a very dark picture of the Makondé. He says they know nothing of a Deity, they pray to their mothers when in distress or dying; know nothing of a future state, nor have they any religion except a belief in medicine; and every headsman is a doctor. No Arab has ever tried to convert them, but occasionally a slave taken to the coast has been circumcised in order to be clean; some of them pray, and say they know not the ordeal or muavi. The Nassick boys failed me when I tried to communicate some knowledge through them. They say they do not understand the Makondé language, though some told me that they came from Ndondé's, which is the head-quarters of the Makondé. Ali says that the Makondé blame witches for disease and death; when one of a village dies, the whole population departs, saying "that is a bad spot." They are said to have been notorious for fines, but an awe has come over them, and no complaints have been made, though our animals in passing the gardens have broken a good deal of corn. Ali says they fear the English. This is an answer to my prayer for influence on the minds of the heathen. I regret that I cannot speak to them that good of His name which I ought. I went with the Makondé to see a specimen of the gum-copal tree in the vicinity of this village. The leaves are in pairs, glossy green, with the veins a little raised on both face and back; the smaller branches diverge from the same point: the fruit, of which we saw the shells, seems to be a nut; some animal had in eating them cut them through. The bark of the tree is of a light ash colour; the gum was oozing from the bark at wounded places, and it drops on the ground from branches; it is thus that insects are probably imbedded in the gum-copal. The people dig in the vicinity of modern trees in the belief that the more ancient trees which dropped their gum before it became an article of commerce must have stood there. "In digging, none may be found on one day but God (Mungu) may give it to us on the next." To this all the Makondé present assented, and showed me the consciousness of His existence was present in their minds. The Makondé get the gum in large quantities, and this attracts the coast Arabs, who remain a long time in the country purchasing it. Hernia humoralis abounds; it is ascribed to beer-drinking. _30th April, 1866._--Many ulcers burst forth on the camels; some seem old dhow bruises. They come back from pasture, bleeding in a way that no rubbing against a tree would account for. I am sorry to suspect foul play: the buffaloes and mules are badly used, but I cannot be always near to prevent it. Bhang[8] is not smoked, but tobacco is: the people have no sheep or goats; only fowls, pigeons, and Muscovy ducks are seen. Honey is very cheap; a good large pot of about a gallon, with four fowls, was given for two yards of calico. Buffaloes again bitten by tsetse, and by another fly exactly like the house-fly, but having a straight hard proboscis instead of a soft one; other large flies make the blood run. The tsetse does not disturb the buffaloes, but these others and the smaller flies do. The tsetse seem to like the camel best; from these they are gorged with blood--they do not seem to care for the mules and donkeys. [Illustration: Carved Door, Zanzibar.] FOOTNOTES: [3] Dhow is the name given to the coasting vessel of East Africa and the Indian Ocean. [4] The Commander of H.M.S. _Pioneer_ in 1861. [5] Those who have read the accounts given by African travellers will remember that the bites inflicted by two or three of these small flies will visually lay the foundation of a sickness which destroys oxen, horses, and dogs in a few weeks. [6] Dr. Livingstone was anxious to try camels and Indian buffaloes in a tsetse country to see the effect upon them. [7] This refers to an attack made upon the boats of the _Pioneer_ when the Doctor was exploring the River Rovuma in 1861. [8] A species of hemp. CHAPTER II. Effect of _Pioneer's_ former visit. The poodle Chitané. Result of tsetse bites. Death of camels and buffaloes. Disaffection of followers. Disputed right of ferry. Mazitu raids. An old friend. Severe privations. The River Loendi. Sepoys mutiny. Dr. Roscher. Desolation. Tattooing. Ornamental teeth. Singular custom. Death of the Nassick boy, Richard. A sad reminiscence. _1st May, 1866._--We now came along through a country comparatively free of wood, and we could move on without perpetual cutting and clearing. It is beautiful to get a good glimpse out on the surrounding scenery, though it still seems nearly all covered with great masses of umbrageous foliage, mostly of a dark green colour, for nearly all of the individual trees possess dark glossy leaves like laurel. We passed a gigantic specimen of the Kumbé, or gum-copal tree. Kumba means to dig. Changkumbé, or things dug, is the name of the gum; the Arabs call it "sandarusé." Did the people give the name Kumbé to the tree after the value of the gum became known to them? The Malolé, from the fine grained wood of which all the bows are made, had shed its fruit on the ground; it looks inviting to the eye--an oblong peach-looking thing, with a number of seeds inside, but it is eaten by maggots only. When we came to Ntandé's village, we found it enclosed in a strong stockade, from a fear of attack by Mabiha, who come across the river and steal their women when going to draw water: this is for the Ibo market. They offered to pull down their stockade and let us in if we would remain over-night, but we declined. Before reaching Ntandé we passed the ruins of two villages; the owners were the attacking party when we ascended the Rovuma in 1862. I have still the old sail, with four bullet-holes through it, made by the shots which they fired after we had given cloth and got assurances of friendship. The father and son of this village were the two men seen by the second boat preparing to shoot; the fire of her crew struck the father on the chin and the son on the head. It may have been for the best that the English are thus known as people who can hit hard when unjustly attacked, as we on this occasion most certainly were: never was a murderous assault more unjustly made or less provoked. They had left their villages and gone up over the highlands away from the river to their ambush whilst their women came to look at us. _2nd May, 1866._--Mountains again approach us, and we pass one which was noticed in our first ascent from its resemblance to a table mountain. It is 600 or 800 feet high, and called Liparu: the plateau now becomes mountainous, giving forth a perennial stream which comes down from its western base and forms a lagoon on the meadow-land that flanks the Rovuma. The trees which love these perpetual streams spread their roots all over the surface of the boggy banks, and make a firm surface, but at spots one may sink a yard deep. We had to fill up these deep ditches with branches and leaves, unload the animals, and lead them across. We spent the night on the banks of the Liparu,[9] and then proceeded on our way. _3rd May, 1866._--We rested in a Makoa village, the head of which was an old woman. The Makoa or Makoané are known by a half-moon figure tattooed on their foreheads or elsewhere. Our poodle dog Chitané chased the dogs of this village with unrelenting fury, his fierce looks inspired terror among the wretched pariah dogs of a yellow and white colour, and those looks were entirely owing to its being difficult to distinguish at which end his head or tail lay. He enjoyed the chase of the yelping curs immensely, but if one of them had turned he would have bolted the other way. A motherly-looking woman came forward and offered me some meal; this was when we were in the act of departing: others had given food to the men and no return had been made. I told her to send it on by her husband, and I would purchase it, but it would have been better to have accepted it: some give merely out of kindly feeling and with no prospect of a return. Many of the Makoa men have their faces thickly tattooed in double, raised lines of about half an inch in length. After the incisions are made charcoal is rubbed in and the flesh pressed out, so that all the cuts are raised above the level of the surface. It gives them rather a hideous look, and a good deal of that fierceness which our kings and chiefs of old put on whilst having their portraits taken. _4th May, 1866._--The stream, embowered in perpetual shade and overspread with the roots of water-loving, broad-leaved trees, we found to be called Nkonya. The spot of our encampment was an island formed by a branch of it parting and re-entering it again: the owner had used it for rice. The buffaloes were bitten again by tsetse on 2nd, and also to-day, from the bites of other flies (which look much more formidable than tsetse), blood of arterial colour flows down; this symptom I never saw before, but when we slaughtered an ox which had been tsetse bitten, we observed that the blood had the arterial hue. The cow has inflammation of one eye, and a swelling on the right lumbar portion of the pelvis: the grey buffalo has been sick, but this I attribute to unmerciful loading; for his back is hurt: the camels do not seem to feel the fly, though they get weaker from the horrid running sores upon them and hard work. There are no symptoms of tsetse in mules or donkeys, but one mule has had his shoulder sprained, and he cannot stoop to eat or drink. We saw the last of the flanking range on the north. The country in front is plain, with a few detached granitic peaks shot up. The Makoa in large numbers live at the end of the range in a place called Nyuchi. At Nyamba, a village where we spent the night of the 5th, was a doctoress and rain-maker, who presented a large basket of soroko, or, as they call it in India, "mung," and a fowl. She is tall and well made, with fine limbs and feet, and was profusely tattooed all over; even her hips and buttocks had their elaborate markings: no shame is felt in exposing these parts. A good deal of salt is made by lixiviation of the soil and evaporating by fire. The head woman had a tame khanga tolé or tufted guinea-fowl, with bluish instead of white spots. In passing along westwards after leaving the end of the range, we came first of all on sandstone hardened by fire; then masses of granite, as if in that had been contained the igneous agency of partial metamorphosis; it had also lifted up the sandstone, so as to cause a dip to the east. Then the syenite or granite seemed as if it had been melted, for it was all in striae, which striae, as they do elsewhere, run east and west. With the change in geological structure we get a different vegetation. Instead of the laurel-leaved trees of various kinds, we have African ebonies, acacias, and mimosae: the grass is shorter and more sparse, and we can move along without wood-cutting. We were now opposite a hill on the south called Simba, a lion, from its supposed resemblance to that animal. A large Mabiha population live there, and make raids occasionally over to this side for slaves. _6th May, 1866._--Tsetse again. The animals look drowsy. The cow's eye is dimmed; when punctured, the skin emits a stream of scarlet blood. The people hereabouts seem intelligent and respectful. At service a man began to talk, but when I said, "Ku soma Mlungu,"--"we wish to pray to God," he desisted. It would be interesting to know what the ideas of these men are, and to ascertain what they have gained in their communings with nature during the ages past. They do not give the idea of that boisterous wickedness and disregard of life which we read of in our own dark ages, but I have no one to translate, although I can understand much of what is said on common topics chiefly from knowing other dialects. _7th May, 1866._--A camel died during the night, and the grey buffalo is in convulsions this morning. The cruelty of these sepoys vitiates my experiment, and I quite expect many camels, one buffalo, and one mule to die yet; they sit down and smoke and eat, leaving the animals loaded in the sun. If I am not with them, it is a constant dawdling; they are evidently unwilling to exert themselves, they cannot carry their belts and bags, and their powers of eating and vomiting are astounding. The Makondé villages are remarkably clean, but no sooner do we pass a night in one than the fellows make it filthy. The climate does give a sharp appetite, but these sepoys indulge it till relieved by vomiting and purging. First of all they breakfast, then an hour afterwards they are sitting eating the pocketfuls of corn maize they have stolen and brought for the purpose, whilst I have to go ahead, otherwise we may be misled into a zigzag course to see Ali's friends; and if I remain behind to keep the sepoys on the move, it deprives me of all the pleasure of travelling. We have not averaged four miles a day in a straight line, yet the animals have often been kept in the sun for eight hours at a stretch. When we get up at 4 A.M. we cannot get under weigh before 8 o'clock. Sepoys are a mistake. _7th May, 1866._--We are now opposite a mountain called Nabungala, which resembles from the north-east an elephant lying down. Another camel, a very good one, died on the way: its shiverings and convulsions are not at all like what we observed in horses and oxen killed by tsetse, but such may lie the cause, however. The only symptom pointing to the tsetse is the arterial-looking blood, but we never saw it ooze from the skin after the bite of the gad-fly as we do now. _8th May, 1866._--We arrived at a village called Jpondé, or Lipondé, which lies opposite a granitic hill on the other-side of the river (where we spent a night on our boat trip), called Nakapuri; this is rather odd, for the words are not Makondé but Sichuana, and signify goat's horn, from the projections jutting out from the rest of the mass. I left the havildar, sepoys, and Nassick boys here in order to make a forced march forward, where no food is to be had, and send either to the south or westwards for supplies, so that after they have rested the animals and themselves five days they may come. One mule is very ill; one buffalo drowsy and exhausted; one camel a mere skeleton from bad sores; and another has an enormous hole at the point of the pelvis, which sticks out at the side. I suspect that this was made maliciously, for he came from the field bleeding profusely; no tree would have perforated a round hole in this way. I take all the goods and leave only the sepoys' luggage, which is enough for all the animals now. _9th May, 1866._--I went on with the Johanna men and twenty-four carriers, for it was a pleasure to get away from the sepoys and Nassick boys; the two combined to overload the animals. I told them repeatedly that they would kill them, but no sooner had I adjusted the burdens and turned my back than they put on all their things. It was however such continual vexation to contend with the sneaking spirit, that I gave up annoying myself by seeing matters, though I felt certain that the animals would all be killed. We did at least eight miles pleasantly well, and slept at Moedaa village. The rocks are still syenite. We passed a valley with the large thorny acacias of which canoes are often made, and a euphorbiaceous tree, with seed-vessels as large as mandarin oranges, with three seeds inside. We were now in a country which, in addition to the Mazitu invasion, was suffering from one of those inexplicable droughts to which limited and sometimes large portions of this country are subject. It had not been nearly so severe on the opposite or south side, and thither too the Mazitu had not penetrated. Rushes, which plagued us nearer the coast, are not observed now; the grass is all crisp and yellow; many of the plants are dead, and leaves are fallen off the trees as if winter had begun. The ground is covered with open forest, with here and there thick jungle on the banks of the streams. All the rivulets we have passed are mere mountain torrents filled with sand, in which the people dig for water. We passed the spot where an Arab called Birkal was asked payment for leave to pass. After two and a half days' parley he fought, killed two Makondé, and mortally wounded a headman, which settled the matter; no fresh demand has been made. Ali's brother also resisted the same sort of demand, fought several times, or until three Makondé and two of his people were killed; they then made peace, and no other exactions have been made. _11th May, 1866._--We now found a difficulty in getting our carriers along, on account of exhaustion from want of food. In going up a sand stream called Nyédé, we saw that all moist spots had been planted with maize and beans, so the loss caused by the Mazitu, who swept the land like a cloud of locusts, will not be attended by much actual starvation. We met a runaway woman: she was seized by Ali, and it was plain that he expected a reward for his pains. He thought she was a slave, but a quarter of a mile off was the village she had left, and it being doubtful if she were a runaway at all, the would-be fugitive slave-capture turned out a failure. _12th May, 1866._--About 4' E.N.E. of Matawatawa, or Nyamatololé, our former turning point. _13th May, 1866._--We halted at a village at Matawatawa. A pleasant-looking lady, with her face profusely tattooed, came forward with a bunch of sweet reed, or _Sorghum saceliaratum_, and laid it at my feet, saying, "I met you here before," pointing to the spot on the river where we turned. I remember her coming then, and that I asked the boat to wait while she went to bring us a basket of food, and I think it was given to Chiko, and no return made. It is sheer kindliness that prompts them sometimes, though occasionally people do make presents with a view of getting a larger one in return: it is pleasant to find that it is not always so. She had a quiet, dignified manner, both in talking and walking, and I now gave her a small looking-glass, and she went and brought me her only fowl and a basket of cucumber-seeds, from which oil is made; from the amount of oily matter they contain thov are nutritious when roasted and eaten as nuts. She made an apology, saying they were hungry times at present. I gave her a cloth, and so parted with Kanañgoné, or, as her name may be spelled, Kanañoné. The carriers were very useless from hunger, and we could not buy anything for them; for the country is all dried up, and covered sparsely with mimosas and thorny acacias. _14th May, 1866._--I could not get the carriers on more than an hour and three-quarters: men tire very soon on empty stomachs. We had reached the village of Hassané, opposite to a conical hill named Chisulwé, which is on the south side of the river, and evidently of igneous origin. It is tree-covered, while the granite always shows lumps of naked rock. All about lie great patches of beautiful dolomite. It may have been formed by baking of the tufa, which in this country seems always to have been poured out with water after volcanic action. Hassané's daughter was just lifting a pot of French beans, boiled in their pods, off the fire when we entered the village, these he presented to me, and when I invited him to partake, he replied that he was at home and would get something, while I was a stranger on a journey. He, like all the other headmen, is a reputed doctor, and his wife, a stout old lady, a doctoress; he had never married any wife but this one, and he had four children, all of whom lived with their parents. We employed one of his sons to go to the south side and purchase food, sending at the same time some carriers to buy for themselves. The siroko and rice bought by Hassané's son we deposited with him for the party behind, when they should arrive. The amount of terror the Mazitu inspire cannot be realized by us. They shake their shields and the people fly like stricken deer. I observed that a child would not go a few yards for necessary purposes unless grandmother stood in sight. Matumora, as the Arabs call the chief at Ngomano, gave them a warm reception, and killed several of them: this probably induced them to retire. _15th and 16th May, 1866._--Miserably short marches from hunger, and I sympathise with the poor fellows. Those sent to buy food for themselves on the south bank were misled by a talkative fellow named Chikungu, and went off north, where we knew nothing could be had. His object was to get paid for three days, while they only loitered here. I suppose hunger has taken the spirit out of them; but I told them that a day in which no work was done did not count: they admitted this. We pay about two feet of calico per day, and a fathom or six feet for three days' carriage. _17th May, 1866._--With very empty stomachs they came on a few miles and proposed to cross to the south side; as this involved crossing the Luendi too, I at first objected, but in hopes that we might get food for them we consented, and were taken over in two very small canoes. I sent Ali and Musa meanwhile to the south to try and get some food. I got a little green sorghum for them and paid them off. These are the little troubles of travelling, and scarce worth mentioning. A granitic peak now appears about 15' off, to the W.S.W. It is called Chihoka. _18th May, 1866._--At our crossing place metamorphic rocks of a chocolate colour stood on edge; and in the country round we have patches of dolomite, sometimes as white as marble. The country is all dry: grass and leaves crisp and yellow. Though so arid now, yet the great abundance of the dried stalks of a water-loving plant, a sort of herbaceous acacia, with green pea-shaped flowers, proves that at other times it is damp enough. The marks of people's feet floundering in slush, but now baked, show that the country can be sloppy. The headman of the village where we spent the night of 17th is a martyr to rheumatism. He asked for medicine, and when I gave some he asked me to give it to him out of my own hand. He presented me with a basket of siroko and of green sorghum as a fee, of which I was very glad, for my own party were suffering, and I had to share out the little portion of flour I had reserved to myself. _19th May, 1866._--Coming on with what carriers we could find at the crossing place, we reached the confluence without seeing it; and Matumora being about two miles up the Loendi, we sent over to him for aid. He came over this morning early,--a tall, well-made man, with a somewhat severe expression of countenance, from a number of wrinkles on his forehead. He took us over the Loendi, which is decidedly the parent stream of the Rovuma, though that as it comes from the west still retains the name Loendi from the south-west here, and is from 150 to 200 yards wide, while the Rovuma above Matawatawa is from 200 to 250, full of islands, rocks, and sandbanks. The Loendi has the same character. We can see the confluence from where we cross about 2' to the north. Both rivers are rapid, shoal, and sandy; small canoes are used on them, and the people pride themselves on their skilful management: in this the women seem in no way inferior to the men. In looking up the Loendi we see a large granitic peak called Nkanjé, some 20 miles off, and beyond it the dim outline of distant highlands, in which seams of coal are exposed. Pieces of the mineral are found in Loendi's sands. Matumora has a good character in the country, and many flee to him from oppression. He was very polite; sitting on the right bank till all the goods were carried over, then coming in the same canoe wifn me himself, he opened a fish basket in a weir and gave me the contents, and subsequently a little green sorghum. He literally has lost all his corn, for he was obliged to flee with his people to Marumba, a rocky island in Rovuma, about six miles above Matawatawa. He says that both Loendi and Rovuma come out of Lake Nyassa; a boat could not ascend, however, because many waterfalls are in their course: it is strange if all this is a myth. Matumora asked if the people through whose country I had come would preserve the peace I wished. He says he has been assailed on all sides by slave-hunters: he alone has never hunted for captives: if the people in front should attack me he would come and fight them: finally he had never seen a European before (Dr. Roscher travelled as an Arab), nor could I learn where Likumbu at Ngomano lives; it was with him that Roscher is said to have left his goods. The Mazitu had women, children, oxen and goats with them. The whole tribe lives on plundering the other natives by means of the terror their shields inspire; had they gone further down the Rovuma, no ox would have survived the tsetse. _20th May, 1866._--I paid Ali to his entire satisfaction, and entrusted him with a despatch, "No. 2 Geographical," and then sent off four men south to buy food. Here we are among Matambwé. Two of Matumora's men act as guides. We are about 2' south and by west of the confluence Ngomano. Lat. 11° 26' 23" S.; long. 37° 40' 52" E. Abraham, one of the Nassick boys, came up and said he had been sent by the sepoys, who declared they would come no further. It was with the utmost difficulty they had come so far, or that the havildar had forced them on, they would not obey him--would not get up in the mornings to march; lay in the paths, and gave their pouches and muskets to the natives to carry: they make themselves utterly useless. The black buffalo is dead; one camel ditto, and one mule left behind ill. Were I not aware of the existence of the tsetse, I should say they died from sheer bad treatment and hard work. I sent a note to be read to the sepoys stating that I had seen their disobedience, unwillingness, and skulking, and as soon as I received the havildar's formal evidence, I would send them back. I regretted parting with the havildar only. A leopard came a little after dark while the moon was shining, and took away a little dog from among us; it is said to have taken off a person a few days ago. _22nd May, 1866._--The men returned with but little food in return for much cloth. Matumora is very friendly, but he has nothing to give save a little green sorghum, and that he brings daily. A south wind blows strongly every afternoon. The rains ceased about the middle of May, and the temperature is lowered. A few heavy night showers closed the rainy season. _23rd--24th May, 1866._--I took some Lunar observations. _25th May, 1866._--Matumora is not Ndondé. A chief to the south-west of this owns that name and belongs to the Matumbwé tribe. _26th May, 1866._--I sent Musa westwards to buy food, and he returned on the evening of 27th without success; he found an Arab slave-dealer waiting in the path, who had bought up all the provisions. About 11 P.M. we saw two men pass our door with two women in a chain; one man carried fire in front, the one behind, a musket. Matumora admits that his people sell each other. _27th May, 1866._--The havildar and Abraham came up. Havildar says that all I said in my note was true, and when it was read to the sepoys they bewailed their folly, he adds that if they were all sent away disgraced, no one would be to blame but themselves. He brought them to Hassané's, but they were useless, though they begged to be kept on: I may give them another trial, but at present they are a sad incumbrance. South-west of this the Manganja begin; but if one went by them, there is a space beyond in the south-west without people. The country due west of this is described by all to be so mountainous and beset by Mazitu, that there is no possibility of passing that way. I must therefore make my way to the middle of the Lake, cross over, and then take up my line of 1863. _2nd June, 1866._--The men sent to the Matambwé south-east of this returned with a good supply of grain. The sepoys won't come; they say they cannot,--a mere excuse, v because they tried to prevail on the Nassick boys to go slowly like them, and wear my patience out. They killed one camel with the butt ends of their muskets, beating it till it died. I thought of going down disarming them all, and taking five or six of the willing ones, but it is more trouble than profit, so I propose to start westwards on Monday the 4th, or Tuesday the 5th. My sepoys offered Ali eight rupees to take them to the coast, thus it has been a regularly organized conspiracy. From the appearance of the cow-buffalo, I fear the tsetse is its chief enemy, but there is a place like a bayonet wound on its shoulder, and many of the wounds or bruises on the camels were so probed that I suspect the sepoys. Many things African are possessed of as great vitality in their line as the African people. The white ant was imported accidentally into St. Helena from the coast of Guinea, and has committed such ravages in the town of St. James, that numerous people have been ruined, and the governor calls out for aid against them. In other so-called new countries a wave of English weeds follows the tide of English emigration, and so with insects; the European house-fly chases away the blue-bottle fly in New Zealand. Settlers have carried the house-fly in bottles and boxes for their new locations, but what European insect will follow us and extirpate the tsetse? The Arabs have given the Makondé bugs, but we have the house-fly wherever we go, the blue-bottle and another like the house-fly, but with a sharp proboscis; and several enormous gad-flies. Here there is so much room for everything. In New Zealand the Norwegian rat is driven off by even the European mouse; not to mention the Hanoverian rat of Waterton, which is lord of the land. The Maori say that "as the white man's rat has driven away the native rat, so the European fly drives away our own; and as the clover kills our fern, so will the Maori disappear before the white man himself." The hog placed ashore by Captain Cook has now overrun one side of the island, and is such a nuisance that a large farmer of 100,000 acres has given sixpence per head for the destruction of some 20,000, and without any sensible diminution; this would be no benefit here, for the wild hogs abound and do much damage, besides affording food for the tsetse: the brutes follow the ewes with young, and devour the poor lambs as soon as they make their appearance. _3rd June, 1866._--The cow-buffalo fell down foaming at the mouth, and expired. The meat looks fat and nice, and is relished by the people, a little glariness seemed to be present on the foreleg, and I sometimes think that, notwithstanding the dissimilarity of the symptoms observed in the camels and buffaloes now, and those we saw in oxen and horses, the evil may be the tsetse, after all, but they have been badly used, without a doubt. The calf has a cut half an inch deep, the camels have had large ulcers, and at last a peculiar smell, which portends death. I feel perplexed, and not at all certain as to the real causes of death. I asked Matumora if the Matambwé believed in God, he replied, that he did not know Him, and I was not to ask the people among whom I was going if they prayed to Him, because they would imagine that I wished them to be killed. I told him that we loved to speak about Him, &c. He said, when they prayed they offered a little meal and then prayed, but did not know much about Him. They have all great reverence for the Deity, and the deliberate way in which they say "We don't know Him" is to prevent speaking irreverently, as that may injure the country. The name is "Mulungu": Makochera afterwards said, that "He was not good, because He killed so many people." _4th June, 1866._--Left Ngomano. I was obliged to tell the Nassick boys that they must either work or return, it was absurd to have them eating up our goods, and not even carrying their own things, and I would submit to it no more: five of them carry bales, and two the luggage of the rest. Abraham and Richard are behind. I gave them bales to carry, and promised them ten rupees per month, to begin on this date. Abraham has worked hard all along, and his pay may be due from 7th April, the day we started from Kindany. _5th June, 1866._--We slept at a village called Lamba, on the banks of the Rovuma, near a brawling torrent of 150 yards, or 200 perhaps, with many islands and rocks in it. The country is covered with open forest, with patches of cultivation everywhere, but all dried up at present and withered, partly from drought and partly from the cold of winter. We passed a village with good ripe sorghum cut down, and the heads or ears all laid neatly in a row, this is to get it dried in the sun, and not shaken out by the wind, by waving to and fro; besides it is also more easily watched from being plundered by birds. The sorghum occasionally does not yield seed, and is then the _Sorghum saccharatum_, for the stalk contains abundance of sugar, and is much relished by the natives. Now that so much has failed to yield seed, being indeed just in flower, the stalks are chewed as if sugar-cane, and the people are fat thereon; but the hungry time is in store when these stalles are all done. They make the best provision in their power against famine by planting beans and maize in moist spots. The common native pumpkin forms a bastard sort in the same way, but that is considered very inferior. _6th June, 1866._--Great hills of granite are occasionally in sight towards the north, but the trees, though scraggy, close in the view. We left a village, called Mekosi, and goon came to a slaving party by a sand stream. They said that they had bought two slaves, but they had run away from them, and asked us to remain with them; more civil than inviting. We came on to Makochera, the principal headman in this quarter, and found him a merry laughing mortal, without any good looks to recommend his genial smile,--low forehead, covered with deep wrinkles; flat nose, somewhat of the Assyrian shape; a big mouth and lean body. He complained of the Machinga (a Waiyau tribe north of him and the Rovuma) stealing his people. Lat. of village, 11° 22' 49" S. The river being about 2' north, still shows that it makes a trend to the north after we pass Ngomano. Makochera has been an elephant hunter. Few acknowledge as a reason for slaving that sowing and spinning cotton for clothing is painful. I waited some days for the Nassick boys, who are behind, though we could not buy any food except at enormous prices and long distances off. _7th June, 1866._--The havildar and two sepoys came up with Abraham, but Richard, a Nassick boy, is still behind from weakness. I sent three off to help him with the only cordials we could muster. The sepoys sometimes profess inability to come on, but it is unwillingness to encounter hardship: I must move on whether they come or not, for we cannot obtain food here. I sent the sepoys some cloth, and on the 8th proposed to start, but every particle of food had been devoured the night before, so we despatched two parties to scour the country round, and give any price rather than want. I could not prevail on Makochera to give me a specimen of poetry; he was afraid, neither he nor his forefathers had ever seen an Englishman. He thought that God was not good because He killed so many people. Dr. Roscher must have travelled as an Arab if he came this way, for he was not known.[10] _9th June, 1866._--We now left and marched through the same sort of forest, gradually ascending in altitude as we went west, then we came to huge masses of granite, or syenite, with flakes peeling off. They are covered with a plant with grassy-looking leaves and rough stalk which strips into portions similar to what are put round candles as ornaments. It makes these hills look light grey, with patches of black rock at the more perpendicular parts; the same at about ten miles off look dark blue. The ground is often hard and stony, but all covered over with grass and plants: looking down at it, the grass is in tufts, and like that on the Kalahari desert. Trees show uplands. One tree of which bark cloth is made, pterocarpus, is abundant. Timber-trees appear here and there, but for the most part the growth is stunted, and few are higher than thirty feet. We spent the night by a hill of the usual rounded form, called Njeñgo. The Rovuma comes close by, but leaves us again to wind among similar great masses. Lat. 11° 20' 05" S. _10th June, 1866._--A very heavy march through the same kind of country, no human habitation appearing; we passed a dead body--recently, it was said, starved to death. The large tract between Makochera's and our next station at Ngozo hill is without any perennial stream; water is found often by digging in the sand streams which we several times crossed; sometimes it was a trickling rill, but I suspect that at other seasons all is dry, and people are made dependent on the Rovuma alone. The first evidence of our being near the pleasant haunts of man was a nice little woman drawing water at a well. I had become separated from the rest: on giving me water she knelt down, and, as country manners require, held it up to me with _both_ hands. I had been misled by one of the carriers, who got confused, though the rounded mass of Ngozo was plainly visible from the heights we crossed east of it. An Arab party bolted on hearing of our approach: they don't trust the English, and this conduct increases our importance among the natives. Lat. 11° 18' 10" S. _11th June, 1866._--Our carriers refuse to go further, because they say that they fear being captured here on their return. _12th June, 1866._--I paid off the carriers, and wait for a set from this. A respectable man, called Makoloya, or Impandé, visited me, and wished to ask some questions as to where I was going, and how long I should be away. He had heard from a man who came from Ibo, or Wibo, about the Bible, a large book which was consulted. [Illustration: Tattoo of Matambwé.] _13th June, 1866._--Makoloya brought his wife and a little corn, and says that his father told him that there is a God, but nothing more. The marks on their foreheads and bodies are meant only to give beauty in the dance, they seem a sort of heraldic ornament, for they can at once tell by his tattoo to what tribe or portion of tribe a man belongs. The tattoo or tembo of the Matambwé and Upper Makondé very much resembles the drawings of the old Egyptians; wavy lines, such as the ancients made to signify water, trees and gardens enclosed in squares, seem to have been meant of old for the inhabitants who lived on the Rovuma, and cultivated also, the son takes the tattoo of his father, and thus it has been perpetuated, though the meaning now appears lost. The Makoa have the half or nearly full moon, but it is, they say, all for ornament. Some blue stuff is rubbed into the cuts (I am told it is charcoal), and the ornament shows brightly in persons of light complexion, who by the bye are common. The Makondé and Matambwé file their front teeth to points; the Machinga, a Waiyan tribe, leave two points on the sides of the front teeth, and knock out one of the middle incisors above and below. [Illustration: Machinga and Waiyan Teeth.] _14th June, 1866._--I am now as much dependent on carriers as if I had never bought a beast of burden--but this is poor stuff to fill a journal with. We started off to Metaba to see if the chief there would lend some men. The headman, Kitwanga, went a long way to convoy us; then turned, saying he was going to get men for Musa next day. We passed near the base of the rounded masses Ngozo and Mekanga, and think, from a near inspection, that they are over 2000 feet above the plain, possibly 3000 feet, and nearly bare, with only the peculiar grassy plant on some parts which are not too perpendicular. The people are said to have stores of grain on them, and on one the chief said there is water; he knows of no stone buildings of the olden time in the country. We passed many masses of ferruginous conglomerate, and I noticed that most of the gneiss dips westwards. The striae seem as if the rock had been partially molten: at times the strike is north and south, at others east and west; when we come to what may have been its surface, it is as if the striae had been stirred with a rod while soft. We slept at a point of the Rovuma, above a cataract where a reach of comparatively still water, from 150 to 200 yards wide, allows a school of hippopotami to live: when the river becomes fordable in many places, as it is said to do in August and September, they must find it difficult to exist. _15th June, 1866._--Another three hours' march brought us from the sleeping-place on the Rovuma to Metaba, the chief of which, Kinazombé, is an elderly man, with a cunning and severe cast of countenance, and a nose Assyrian in type; he has built a large reception house, in which a number of half-caste Arabs have taken up their abode. A great many of the people have guns, and it is astonishing to see the number of slave-taming sticks abandoned along the road as the poor wretches gave in, and professed to have lost all hope of escape. Many huts have been built by the Arabs to screen themselves from the rain as they travelled. At Kinazombé's the second crop of maize is ready, so the hunger will not be very much felt. _16th June, 1866._--We heard very sombre accounts of the country in front:--four or five days to Mtarika, and then ten days through jungle to Mataka's town: little food at Mtarika's, but plenty with Mataka, who is near the Lake. The Rovuma trends southerly after we leave Ngozo, and Masusa on that river is pointed out as south-west from Metaba, so at Ngozo the river may be said to have its furthest northing. Masusa is reported to be five days, or at least fifty miles, from Metaba. The route now becomes south-west. The cattle of Africa are like the Indian buffalo, only partially tamed; they never give their milk without the presence of the calf or its stuffed skin, the "fulchan." The women adjacent to Mozambique partake a little of the wild animal's nature, for, like most members of the inferior races of animals, they refuse all intercourse with their husbands when enceinte and they continue this for about three years afterwards, or until the child is weaned, which usually happens about the third year. I was told, on most respectable authority, that many fine young native men marry one wife and live happily with her till this period; nothing will then induce her to continue to cohabit with him, and, as the separation is to continue for three years, the man is almost compelled to take up with another wife: this was mentioned to me as one of the great evils of society. The same absurdity prevails on the West Coast, and there it is said that the men acquiesce from ideas of purity. It is curious that trade-rum should form so important an article of import on the West Coast while it is almost unknown on the East Coast, for the same people began the commerce in both instances. If we look north of Cape Delgado, we might imagine that the religious convictions of the Arabs had something to do with the matter, but the Portuguese south of Cape Delgado have no scruples in the matter, and would sell their grandfathers as well as the rum if they could make money by the transaction, they have even erected distilleries to furnish a vile spirit from the fruit of the cashew and other fruits and grain, but the trade does not succeed. They give their slaves also rewards of spirit, or "maata bicho" ("kill the creature," or "craving within"), and you may meet a man who, having had much intercourse with Portuguese, may beg spirits, but the trade does not pay. The natives will drink it if furnished gratis. The indispensable "dash" of rum on the West Coast in every political transaction with independent chiefs is, however, quite unknown. The Moslems would certainly not abstain from trading in spirits were the trade profitable. They often asked for brandy from me in a sly way--as medicine; and when reminded that their religion forbade it, would say, "Oh, but we can drink it in secret." It is something in the nature of the people quite inexplicable, that throughout the Makondé country hernia humoralis prevails to a frightful extent; it is believed by the natives to be the result of beer drinking, so they cannot be considered as abstemious. _18th June, 1866._--Finding that Musa did not come up with the goods I left in his charge, and fearing that all was not right, we set off with all our hands who could carry, after service yesterday morning, and in six hours' hard tramp arrived here just in time, for a tribe of Wanindi, or Manindi, who are either Ajawas (Waiyau),[11] or pretended Mazitu, had tried to cross the Rovuma from the north bank. They came as plunderers, and Musa having received no assistance was now ready to defend the goods. A shot or two from the people of Kitwanga made the Wanindi desert after they had entered the water. Six sepoys and Simon had come up this length; Reuben and Mabruki reported Richard to be dead. This poor boy was left with the others at Lipondé, and I never saw him again. I observed him associating too much with the sepoys; and often felt inclined to reprove him, as their conversation is usually very bad, but I could not of my own knowledge say so. He came on with the others as far as Hassané or Pachassané: there he was too weak to come further, and as the sepoys were notoriously skulkers, I feared that poor Richard was led away by them, for I knew that they had made many attempts to draw away the other Nassick boys from their duty. When, however, Abraham came up and reported Richard left behind by the sepoys, I became alarmed, and sent off three boys with cordials to help him on: two days after Abraham left he seems to have died, and I feel very sorry that I was not there to do what I could. I am told now that he never consented to the sepoy temptation: he said to Abraham that he wished he were dead, he was so much troubled. The people where he died were not v$ry civil to Simon. The sepoys had now made themselves such an utter nuisance that I felt that I must take the upper hand with them, so I called them up this morning, and asked if they knew the punishment they had incurred by disobeying orders, and attempting to tamper with the Nassick boys to turn them back. I told them they not only remained in the way when ordered to march, but offered eight rupees to Ali to lead them to the coast, and that the excuse of sickness was nought, for they had eaten heartily three meals a day while pretending illness. They had no excuse to offer, so I disrated the naik or corporal, and sentenced the others to carry loads; if they behave well, then they will get fatigue pay for doing fatigue duty, if ill, nothing but their pay. Their limbs are becoming contracted from sheer idleness; while all the other men are well and getting stronger they alone are disreputably slovenly and useless-looking. Their filthy habits are to be reformed, and if found at their habit of sitting down and sleeping for hours on the march, or without their muskets and pouches, they are to be flogged. I sent two of them back to bring up two comrades, left behind yesterday. All who have done work are comparatively strong. [We may venture a word in passing on the subject of native recruits, enlisted for service in Africa, and who return thither after a long absence. All the Nassick boys were native-born Africans, and yet we see one of them succumb immediately. The truth is that natives; under these circumstances, are just as liable to the effects of malaria on landing as Europeans, although it is not often that fever assumes a dangerous form in such cases. The natives of the interior have the greatest dread of the illnesses which they say are sure to be in store for them if they visit the coast.] _19th June, 1866._--I gave the sepoys light loads in order to inure them to exercise and strengthen them, and they carried willingly so long as the fright was on them, but when the fear of immediate punishment wore off they began their skulking again. One, Perim, reduced his load of about 20 lbs. of tea by throwing away the lead in which it was rolled, and afterwards about 15 lbs. of the tea, thereby diminishing our stock to 5 lbs. [Dr. Livingstone's short stay in England in 1864-5 was mainly taken up with compiling an account of his travels on the Zambesi and Shiré: during this time his mother expired in Scotland at a good old age. When he went back to Africa he took with him, as part of his very scanty travelling equipment, a number of letters which he received from friends at different times in England, and he very often quoted them when he had an opportunity of sending letters home. We come to an entry at this time which shows that in these reminiscences he had not thus preserved an unmixed pleasure. He says:--] I lighted on a telegram to-day:--"Your mother died at noon on the 18th June." This was in 1865: it affected me not a little. FOOTNOTES: [9] Further on we found it called Nkonya. [10] It will be remembered that this German traveller was murdered near Lake Nyassa. The native chiefs denounced his assassins, and sent them to Zanzibar, where they were executed.--ED. [11] Further westward amongst the Manganja or Nyassa people the Waiyan tribe is called "Ajawa," and we find Livingstone always speaking of them as Ajawas in his previous explorations on the River Rovuma. (See 'The Zambesi and its Tributaries.')--ED. CHAPTER III. Horrors of the slave-trader's track. System of cultivation. Pottery. Special exorcising. Death of the last mule. Rescue of Chirikaloma's wife. Brutalities of the slave-drivers. Mtarika's. Desperate march to Mtaka's. Meets Arab caravans. Dismay of slavers. Dismissal of sepoys. Mataka. The Waiyan metropolis. Great hospitality and good feeling. Mataka restores stolen cattle. Life with the chief. Beauty of country and healthiness of climate. The Waiyan people and their peculiarities. Regrets at the abandonment of Bishop Mackenzie's plans. _19th June, 1866._--We passed a woman tied by the neck to a tree and dead, the people of the country explained that she had been unable to keep up with the other slaves in a gang, and her master had determined that she should not become the property of anyone else if she recovered after resting for a time. I may mention here that we saw others tied up in a similar manner, and one lying in the path shot or stabbed[12], for she was in a pool of blood. The explanation we got invariably was that the Arab who owned these victims was enraged at losing his money by the slaves becoming unable to march, and vented his spleen by murdering them; but I have nothing more than common report in support of attributing this enormity to the Arabs. _20th June, 1866._--Having returned to Metaba, we were told by Kinazombé, the chief, that no one had grain to sell but himself. He had plenty of powder and common cloth from the Arabs, and our only chance with him was parting with our finer cloths and other things that took his fancy. He magnified the scarcity in front in order to induce us to buy all we could from him, but he gave me an ample meal of porridge and guinea-fowl before starting. _21st June, 1866._--We had difficulties about carriers, but on reaching an island in the Rovuma, called Chimiki, we found the people were Makoa and more civil and willing to work than the Waiyau: we sent men back to bring up the havildar to a very civil headman called Chirikaloma. _22nd June, 1866._--A poor little boy with prolapsus ani was carried yesterday by his mother many a weary mile, lying over her right shoulder--the only position he could find ease in,--an infant at the breast occupied the left arm, and on her head were carried two baskets. The mother's love was seen in binding up the part when we halted, whilst the coarseness of low civilization was evinced in the laugh with which some black brutes looked at the sufferer. _23rd June, 1866._--The country is covered with forest, much more open than further east. We are now some 800 feet above the sea. The people all cultivate maize near the Rovuma, and on islands where moisture helps them, nearly all possess guns, and plenty of powder and fine beads,--red ones strung on the hair, and fine blue ones in rolls on the neck, fitted tightly like soldiers' stocks. The lip-ring is universal; teeth filed to points. _24th June, 1866._--Immense quantities of wood are cut down, collected in heaps, and burned to manure the land, but this does not prevent the country having an appearance of forest. Divine service at 8.30 A.M.; great numbers looking on. They have a clear idea of the Supreme Being, but do not pray to Him.. Cold south winds prevail; temp. 55°. One of the mules is very ill--it was left with the havildar when we went back to Ngozo, and probably remained uncovered at night, for as soon as we saw it, illness was plainly visible. Whenever an animal has been in their power the sepoys have abused it. It is difficult to feel charitably to fellows whose scheme seems to have been to detach the Nassick boys from me first, then, when the animals were all killed, the Johanna men, afterwards they could rule me as they liked, or go back and leave me to perish; but I shall try to feel as charitably as I can in spite of it all, for the mind has a strong tendency to brood over the ills of travel. I told the havildar when I came up to him at Metaba what I had done, and that I was very much displeased with the sepoys for compassing my failure, if not death; an unkind word had never passed my lips to them: to this he could bear testimony. He thought that they would only be a plague and trouble to me, but he "would go on and die with me." Stone boiling is unknown in these countries, but ovens are made in anthills. Holes are dug in the ground for baking the heads of large game, as the zebra, feet of elephants, humps of rhinoceros, and the production of fire by drilling between the palms of the hands is universal. It is quite common to see the sticks so used attached to the clothing or bundles in travelling; they wet the blunt end of the upright stick with the tongue, and dip it in the sand to make some particles of silica adhere before inserting it in the horizontal piece. The wood of a certain wild fig-tree is esteemed as yielding fire readily. In wet weather they prefer to carry fire in the dried balls of elephants' dung which are met with--the male's being about eight inches in diameter and about a foot long: they also employ the stalk of a certain plant which grows on rocky places for the same purpose. We bought a senzé, or _Aulacaudatus Swindernianus_, which had been dried over a slow fire. This custom of drying fish, flesh, and fruits, on stages over slow fires, is practised very generally: the use of salt for preservation is unknown. Besides stages for drying, the Makondé use them about six feet high for sleeping on instead of the damp ground: a fire beneath helps to keep off the mosquitoes, and they are used by day as convenient resting-places and for observation. Pottery seems to have been known to the Africans from the remotest times, for fragments are found everywhere, even among the oldest fossil bones in the country. Their pots for cooking, holding water and beer, are made by the women, and the form is preserved by the eye alone, for no sort of machine is ever used. A foundation or bottom is first laid, and a piece of bone or bamboo used to scrape the clay or to smooth over the pieces which are added to increase the roundness; the vessel is then left a night: the next morning a piece is added to the rim--as the air is dry several rounds may be added--and all is then carefully smoothed off; afterwards it is thoroughly sun-dried. A light fire of dried cow-dung, or corn-stalks, or straw, and grass with twigs, is made in a hole in the ground for the final baking. Ornaments are made on these pots of black lead, or before being hardened by the sun they are ornamented for a couple or three inches near the rim, all the tracery being in imitation of plaited basket work. Chirikaloma says that the surname of the Makoa, to whom he belongs, is Mirazi--others have the surname Melola or Malola--Chimposola. All had the half-moon mark when in the south-east, but now they leave it off a good deal and adopt the Waiyau marks, because of living in their country. They show no indications of being named after beasts and birds. Mirazi was an ancestor; they eat all clean animals, but refuse the hyaena, leopard, or any beast that devours dead men.[13] _25th June, 1866._--On leaving Chirikaloma we came on to Namalo, whose village that morning had been deserted, the people moving off in a body towards the Matambwé country, where food is more abundant. A poor little girl was left in one of the huts from being too weak to walk, probably an orphan. The Arab slave-traders flee from the path as soon as they hear of our approach. The Rovuma is from 56 to 80 yards wide here. No food to be had for either love or money. Near many of the villages we observe a wand bent and both ends inserted into the ground: a lot of medicine, usually the bark of trees, is buried beneath it. When sickness is in a village, the men proceed to the spot, wash themselves with the medicine and water, creep through beneath the bough, then bury the medicine and the evil influence together. This is also used to keep off evil spirits, wild beasts, and enemies. Chirikaloma told us of a child in his tribe which was deformed from his birth. He had an abortive toe where his knee should have been; some said to his mother, "Kill him;" but she replied, "How can I kill my son?" He grew up and had many fine sons and daughters, but none deformed like himself: this was told in connection with an answer to my question about the treatment of Albinoes: he said they did not kill them, but they never grew to manhood. On inquiring if he had ever heard of cannibals, or people with tails, he replied, "Yes, but we have always understood that these and other monstrosities are met with only among you sea-going people." The other monstrosities he referred to were those who are said to have eyes behind the head as well as in front: I have heard of them before, but then I was near Angola, in the west. The rains are expected here when the Pleiades appear in the east soon after sunset; they go by the same name here as further south--Lemila or the "hoeings." In the route along the Rovuma, we pass among people who are so well supplied with white calico by the slave-trade from Kilwa, that it is quite a drug in the market: we cannot get food for it. If we held on westwards we should cross several rivers flowing into the Rovuma from the southward, as the Zandulo, the Sanjenzé, the Lochiringo, and then, in going round the north end of Nyassa, we should pass among the Nindi, who now inhabit the parts vacated by the Mazitu, and imitate them in having shields and in marauding. An Arab party went into their country, and got out again only by paying a whole bale of calico; it would not be wise in me to venture there at present, but if we return this way we may; meanwhile we shall push on to Mataka, who is only a few days off from the middle of the Lake, and has abundance of provisions. _26th June, 1866._--My last mule died. In coming along in the morning we were loudly accosted by a well-dressed woman who had just had a very heavy slave-taming stick put on her neck; she called in such an authoritative tone to us to witness the flagrant injustice of which she was the victim that all the men stood still and went to hear the case. She was a near relative of Chirikaloma, and was going up the river to her husband, when the old man (at whose house she was now a prisoner) caught her, took her servant away from her, and kept her in the degraded state we saw. The withes with which she was bound were green and sappy. The old man said in justification that she was running away from Chirikaloma, and he would be offended with him if he did not secure her. I asked the officious old gentleman in a friendly tone what he expected to receive from Chirikaloma, and he said, "Nothing." Several slaver-looking fellows came about, and I felt sure that the woman had been seized in order to sell her to them, so I gave the captor a cloth to pay to Chirikaloma if he were offended, and told him to say that I, feeling ashamed to see one of his relatives in a slave-stick, had released her, and would, take her on to her husband. She is evidently a lady among them, having many fine beads and some strung on elephant's hair: she has a good deal of spirit too, for on being liberated she went into the old man's house and took her basket and calabash. A virago of a wife shut the door and tried to prevent her, as well as to cut off the beads from her person, but she resisted like a good one, and my men thrust the door open and let her out, but minus her slave. The other wife--for old officious had two--joined her sister in a furious tirade of abuse, the elder holding her sides in regular fishwife fashion till I burst into a laugh, in which the younger wife joined. I explained to the different headmen in front of this village what I had done, and sent messages to Chirikaloma explanatory of my friendly deed to his relative, so that no misconstruction should be put on my act. We passed a slave woman shot or stabbed through the body and lying on the path: a group of mon stood about a hundred yards off on one side, and another of women on the other side, looking on; they said an Arab who passed early that morning had done it in anger at losing the price he had given for her, because she was unable to walk any longer. _27th June, 1866._--To-day we came upon a man dead from starvation, as he was very thin. One of our men wandered and found a number of slaves with slave-sticks on, abandoned by their master from want of food; they were too weak to be able to speak or say where they had come from; some were quite young. We crossed the Tulosi, a stream coming from south, about twenty yards wide. At Chenjewala's the people are usually much startled when I explain that the numbers of slaves we see dead on the road have been killed partly by those who sold them, for I tell them that if they sell their fellows, they are like the man who holds the victim while the Arab performs the murder. Chenjewala blamed Machemba, a chief above him on the Rovuma, for encouraging the slave-trade; I told him I had travelled so much among them that I knew all the excuses they could make, each headman blamed some one else. "It would be better if you kept your people and cultivated more largely," said I, "Oh, Machemba sends his men and robs our gardens after we have cultivated," was the reply. One man said that the Arabs who come and tempt them with fine clothes are the cause of their selling: this was childish, so I told them they would very soon have none to sell: their country was becoming jungle, and all their people who did not die in the road would be making gardens for Arabs at Kilwa and elsewhere. _28th June, 1866._--When we got about an hour from Chenjewala's we came to a party in the act of marauding; the owners of the gardens made off for the other side of the river, and waved to us to go against the people of Machemba, but we stood on a knoll with all our goods on the ground, and waited to see how matters would turn out. Two of the marauders came to us and said they had captured five people. I suppose they took us for Arabs, as they addressed Musa. They then took some green maize, and so did some of my people, believing that as all was going, they who were really starving might as well have a share. I went on a little way with the two marauders, and by the footprints thought the whole party might amount to four or five with guns; the gardens and huts were all deserted. A poor woman was sitting, cooking green maize, and one of the men ordered her to follow him. I said to him, "Let her alone, she is dying." "Yes," said he, "of hunger," and went'on without her. We passed village after village, and gardens all deserted! We were now between two contending parties. We slept at one garden; and as we were told by Chenjewala's people to take what we liked, and my men had no food, we gleaned what congo beans, bean leaves, and sorghum stalks we could,--poor fare enough, but all we could get. _29th June, 1866._--We came onto Machemba's brother, Chimseia, who gave us food at once. The country is now covered with deeper soil, and many large acacia-trees grow in the rich loam: the holms too are large, and many islands afford convenient maize grounds. One of the Nassiek lads came up and reported his bundle, containing 240 yards of calico, had been stolen; he went aside, leaving it on the path (probably fell asleep), and it was gone when he came back. I cannot impress either on them or the sepoys that it is wrong to sleep on the march. Akosakoné, whom we had liberated, now arrived at the residence of her husband, who was another brother of Machemba. She behaved like a lady all through, sleeping at a fire apart from the men. The ladies of the different villages we passed condoled with her, and she related to them the indignity that had been done to her. Besides this she did us many services: she bought food for us, because, having a good address, we saw that she could get double what any of our men could purchase for the same cloth; she spoke up for us when any injustice was attempted, and, when we were in want of carriers, volunteered to carry a bag of beads on her head. On arriving at Machemba's brother, Chimseia, she introduced me to him, and got him to be liberal to us in food on account of the service we had rendered to her. She took leave of us all with many expressions of thankfulness, and we were glad that we had not mistaken her position or lavished kindness on the undeserving. One Johanna man was caught stealing maize, then another, after I had paid for the first. I sent a request to the chief not to make much of a grievance about it, as I was very much ashamed at my men stealing; he replied that he had liked me from the first, and I was not to fear, as whatever service he could do he would most willingly in order to save me pain and trouble. A sepoy now came up having given his musket to a man to carry, who therefore demanded payment. As it had become a regular nuisance for the sepoys to employ people to carry for them, telling them that I would pay, I demanded why he had promised in my name. "Oh, it was but a little way he carried the musket," said he. Chimseia warned us next morning, 30th June, against allowing any one to straggle or steal in front, for stabbing and plundering were the rule. The same sepoy who had employed a man to carry his musket now came forward, with his eyes fixed and shaking all over. This, I was to understand, meant extreme weakness; but I had accidentally noticed him walking quite smartly before this exhibition, so I ordered him to keep close to the donkey that carried the havildar's luggage, and on no account to remain behind the party. He told the havildar that he would sit down only for a little while; and, I suppose, fell asleep, for he came up to us in the evening as naked as a robin. I saw another person bound to a tree and dead--a sad sight to see, whoever was the perpetrator. So many slave-sticks lie along our path, that I suspect the people here-about make a practice of liberating what slaves they cian find abandoned on the march, to sell them again. A large quantity of maize is cultivated at Chimsaka's, at whose place we this day arrived. We got a supply, but being among thieves, we thought it advisable to move on to the next place (Mtarika's). When starting, we found that fork, kettle, pot, and shot-pouch had been taken. The thieves, I observed, kept up a succession of jokes with Chuma and Wikatani and when the latter was enjoying them, gaping to the sky, they were busy putting the things of which he had charge under their cloths! I spoke to the chief, and he got the three first articles back for me. A great deal if not all the lawlessness of this quarter is the result of the slave-trade, for the Arabs buy whoever is brought to them and in a country covered with forest as this is, kidnapping can be prosecuted with the greatest ease; elsewhere the people are honest, and have a regard for justice. _1st July, 1866._--As we approach Mtarika's place, the country becomes more mountainous and the land sloping for a mile down to the south bank of the Rovuma supports a large population. Some were making new gardens by cutting down trees and piling the branches for burning; others had stored tip large quantities of grain and were moving it to a new locality, but they were all so well supplied with calico (Merikano) that they would not look at ours: the market was in fact glutted by slavers from (Quiloa) Kilwa. On asking why people were seen tied to trees to die as we had seen them, they gave the usual answer that the Arabs tie them thus and leave them to perish, because they are vexed, when the slaves can walk no further, that they have lost their money by them. The path is almost strewed with slave-sticks, and though the people denied it, I suspect that they make a practice of following slave caravans and cutting off the sticks from those who fall out in the march, and thus stealing them. By selling them again they get the quantities of cloth we see. Some asked for gaudy prints, of which we had none, because we knew that the general taste of the Africans of the Interior is for strength rather than show in what they buy. The Rovuma here is about 100 yards broad, and still keeps up its character of a rapid stream, with sandy banks and islands: the latter are generally occupied, as being defensible when the river is in flood. _2nd July, 1866._--We rested at Mtarika's old place; and though we had to pay dearly with our best table-cloths[14] for it, we got as much as made one meal a day. At the same dear rate we could give occasionally only two ears of maize to each man; and if the sepoys got their comrades' corn into their hands, they eat it without shame. We had to bear a vast amount of staring, for the people, who are Waiyau, have a great deal of curiosity, and are occasionally rather rude. They have all heard of our wish to stop the slave-trade, and are rather taken aback when told that by selling they are part and part guilty of the mortality of which we had been unwilling spectators. Some were dumbfounded when shown that in the eye of their Maker they are parties to the destruction of human life which accompanies this traffic both by sea and land. If they did not sell, the Arabs would not come to buy. Chuma and Wakatani render what is said very eloquently in Chiyau, most of the people being of their tribe, with only a sprinkling of slaves. Chimseia, Chimsaka, Mtarika, Mtendé, Makanjela, Mataka, and all the chiefs and people in our route to the Lake, are Waiyau, or Waiau.[15] On the southern slope down to the river there are many oozing springs and damp spots where rice has been sown and reaped. The adjacent land has yielded large crops of sorghum, congo-beans, and pumpkins. Successive crowds of people came to gaze. My appearance and acts often cause a burst of laughter; sudden standing up produces a flight of women and children. To prevent peeping into the hut which I occupy, and making the place quite dark, I do my writing in the verandah. Chitané, the poodle dog, the buffalo-calf, and our only remaining donkey are greeted with the same amount of curiosity and laughter-exciting comment as myself. Every evening a series of loud musket reports is heard from the different villages along the river; these are imitation evening guns. All copy the Arabs in dress and chewing tobacco with "nora" lime, made from burnt river shells instead of betel-nut and lime. The women are stout, well-built persons, with thick arms and legs; their heads incline to the bullet shape; the lip-rings are small; the tattoo a mixture of Makoa and Waiyau. Fine blue and black beads are in fashion, and so are arm-coils of thick brass wire. Very nicely inlaid combs are worn in the hair; the inlaying is accomplished by means of a gum got from the root of an orchis called _Nangazu_. _3rd July, 1866._--A short march brought us to Mtarika's new place. The chief made his appearance only after he had ascertained all he could about us. The population is immense; they are making new gardens, and the land is laid out by straight lines about a foot broad, cut with the hoe; one goes miles without getting beyond the marked or surveyed fields. Mtarika came at last; a big ugly man, with large mouth and receding forehead. He asked to see all our curiosities, as the watch, revolver, breech-loading rifle, sextant. I gave him a lecture on the evil of selling his people, and he wished me to tell all the other chiefs the same thing. They dislike the idea of guilt being attached to them for having sold many who have lost their lives on their way down to the sea-coast. We had a long visit from Mtarika next day; he gave us meal, and meat of wild hog, with a salad made of bean-leaves. A wretched Swaheli Arab, ill with rheumatism, came for aid, and got a cloth. They all profess to me to be buying ivory only. _5th July, 1866._--We left for Mtendé, who is the last chief before we enter on a good eight days' march to Mataka's; we might have gone to Kandulo's, who is near the Rovuma, and more to the north, but all are so well supplied with everything by slave-traders that we have difficulty in getting provisions at all. Mataka has plenty of all kinds of food. On the way we passed the burnt bones of a person Avho was accused of having eaten human flesh; he had been poisoned, or, as they said, killed by poison (muave?), and then burned. His clothes were hung, up on trees by the wayside as a warning to others. The country was covered with scraggy forest, but so undulating that one could often see all around from the crest of the waves. Great mountain masses appear in the south and south-west. It feels cold, and the sky is often overcast. _6th July, 1866._--I took lunars yesterday, after which Mtendé invited us to eat at his house where he had provided a large mess of rice porridge and bean-leaves as a relish. He says that many Arabs pass him and many of them die in their journeys. He knows no deaf or dumb person in the country. He says that he cuts the throats of all animals to be eaten, and does not touch lion or hyaena. _7th July, 1866._--We got men from Mtendé to carry loads and show the way. He asked a cloth to ensure his people going to the journey's end and behaving properly; this is the only case of anything like tribute being demanded in this journey: I gave him a cloth worth 5s. 6d. Upland vegetation prevails; trees are dotted here and there among bushes five feet high, and fine blue and yellow flowers are common. We pass over a succession of ridges and valleys as in Londa; each valley has a running stream or trickling rill; garden willows are in full bloom, and also a species of sage with variegated leaves beneath the flowers. When the sepoy Perim threw away the tea and the lead lining, I only reproved him and promised him punishment if he committed any other wilful offence, but now he and another skulked behind and gave their loads to a stranger to carry, with a promise to him that I would pay. We waited two hours for them; and as the havildar said that they would not obey him, I gave Perim and the other some smart cuts with a cane, but I felt that I was degrading myself, and resolved not to do the punishment myself again. _8th July, 1866._--Hard travelling through a depopulated country. The trees are about the size of hop-poles with abundance of tall grass; the soil is sometimes a little sandy, at other times that reddish, clayey sort which yields native grain so well. The rock seen uppermost is often a ferruginous conglomerate, lying on granite rocks. The gum-copal tree is here a mere bush, and no digging takes place for the gum: it is called Mchenga, and yields gum when wounded, as also bark, cloth, and cordage when stripped. Mountain masses are all around us; we sleep at Linata mountain. _9th July, 1866._--The Masuko fruit abounds: the name is the same here as in the Batoka country; there are also rhododendrons of two species, but the flowers white. We slept in a wild spot, near Mount Leziro, with many lions roaring about us; one hoarse fellow serenaded us a long time, but did nothing more. Game is said to be abundant, but we saw none, save an occasional diver springing away from the path. Some streams ran to the north-west to the Lismyando, which flows N. for the Rovuma; others to the south-east for the Loendi. _10th and 11th July, 1866._--Nothing to interest but the same weary trudge: our food so scarce that we can only give a handful or half a pound of grain to each person per day. The Masuko fruit is formed, but not ripe till rains begin; very few birds are seen or heard, though there is both food and water in the many grain-bearing grasses and running streams, which we cross at the junction of every two ridges. A dead body lay in a hut by the wayside; the poor thing had begun to make a garden by the stream, probably in hopes of living long enough (two months or so) on wild fruits to reap a crop of maize. _12th July, 1866._--A drizzling mist set in during the night and continued this morning, we set off in the dark, however, leaving our last food for the havildar and sepoys who had not yet come up. The streams are now of good size. An Arab brandy bottle was lying broken in one village called Msapa. We hurried on as fast as we could to the Luatizé, our last stage before getting to Mataka's; this stream is rapid, about forty yards wide, waist deep, with many podostemons on the bottom. The country gets more and more undulating and is covered with masses of green foliage, chiefly Masuko trees, which have large hard leaves. There are hippopotami further down the river on its way to the Loendi. A little rice which had been kept for me I divided, but some did not taste food. _13th July, 1866._--A good many stragglers behind, but we push on to get food and send it back to them. The soil all reddish clay, the roads baked hard by the sun, and the feet of many of us are weary and sore: a weary march and long, for it is perpetually up and down now. I counted fifteen running streams in one day: they are at the bottom of the valley which separates the ridges. We got to the brow of a ridge about an hour from Mataka's first gardens, and all were so tired that we remained to sleep; but we first invited volunteers to go on and buy food, and bring it back early next morning: they had to be pressed to do this duty. _14th July, 1866._--As our volunteers did not come at 8 A.M., I set off to see the cause, and after an hour of perpetual up and down march, as I descended the steep slope which overlooks the first gardens, I saw my friends start up at the apparition--they were comfortably cooking porridge for themselves! I sent men of Mataka back with food to the stragglers behind and came on to his town. An Arab, Sef Rupia or Rubea, head of a large body of slaves, on his way to the coast, most kindly came forward and presented an ox, bag of flour, and some cooked meat, all of which were extremely welcome to half-famished men, or indeed under any circumstances. He had heard of our want of food and of a band of sepoys, and what could the English think of doing but putting an end to the slave-trade? Had he seen our wretched escort, all fear of them would have vanished! He had a large safari or caravan under him. This body is usually divided into ten or twelve portions, and all are bound to obey the leader to á certain extent: in this case there were eleven parties, and the traders numbered about sixty or seventy, who were dark coast Arabs. Each underling had his men under him, and when I saw them they were busy making the pens of branches in which their slaves and they sleep. Sef came on with me to Mataka's, and introduced me in due form with discharges of gunpowder. I asked him to come back next morning, and presented three cloths with a request that he would assist the havildar and sepoys, if he met them, with food: this he generously did. We found Mataka's town situated in an elevated valley surrounded by mountains; the houses numbered at least 1000, and there were many villages around. The mountains were pleasantly green, and had many trees which the people were incessantly cutting down. They had but recently come here: they were besieged by Mazitu at their former location west of this; after fighting four days they left unconquered, having beaten the enemy off. Mataka kept us waiting some time in the verandah of his large square house, and then made his appearance, smiling with his good-natured face. He is about sixty years of age, dressed as an Arab, and if we may judge from the laughter with which his remarks were always greeted, somewhat humorous. He had never seen any but Arabs before. He gave me a square house to live in, indeed the most of the houses here are square, for the Arabs are imitated in everything: they have introduced the English pea, and we were pleased to see large patches of it in full bearing, and ripe in moist hollows which had been selected for it. The numerous springs which come out at various parts are all made use of. Those parts which are too wet are drained, whilst beds are regularly irrigated by water-courses and ridges: we had afterwards occasion to admire the very extensive draining which has been effected among the hills. Cassava is cultivated on ridges along all the streets in the town, which give it a somewhat regular and neat appearance. Peas and tobacco were the chief products raised by irrigation, but batatas and maize were often planted too: wheat would succeed if introduced. The altitude is about 2700 feet above the sea: the air at this time is cool, and many people have coughs. Mataka soon sent a good mess of porridge and cooked meat (beef); he has plenty of cattle and sheep: and the next day he sent abundance of milk. We stand a good deal of staring unmoved, though it is often accompanied by remarks by no means complimentary; they think that they are not understood, and probably I do misunderstand sometimes. The Waiyau jumble their words as I think, and Mataka thought that I did not enunciate anything, but kept my tongue still when I spoke. Town of Matak, Moembé. _15th July, 1866._--The safari under Sef set off this morning for Kilwa. Sef says that about 100 of the Kilwa people died this year, so slaving as well as philanthropy is accompanied with loss of life: we saw about seven of their graves; the rest died on the road up. There are two roads from this to the Lake, one to Loséwa, which is west of this, and opposite Kotakota; the other, to Makatu, is further south: the first is five days through deserted country chiefly; but the other, seven, among people and plenty of provisions all the way. It struck me after Sef had numbered up the losses that the Kilwa people sustained by death in their endeavours to «nslave people, similar losses on the part of those who go to "proclaim liberty to the captives, the opening of the prison to them that are bound,"--to save and elevate, need not be made so very much of as they sometimes are. Soon after our arrival we heard that a number of Mataka's Waiyau had, without his knowledge, gone to Nyassa, and in a foray carried off cattle and people: when they came home with the spoil, Mataka ordered all to be sent back whence they came. The chief came up to visit me soon after, and I told him that his decision was the best piece of news I had heard in the country: he was evidently pleased with my approbation, and, turning to his people, asked if they heard what I said. He repeated my remark, and said, "You silly fellows think me wrong in returning the captives, but all wise men will approve of it," and he then scolded them roundly. I was accidentally spectator of this party going back, for on going out of the town I saw a meat market opened, and people buying with maize and meal. On inquiring, I was told that the people and cattle there were the Nyassas, and they had slaughtered an ox, in order to exchange meat for grain as provisions on the journey. The women and children numbered fifty-four, and about a dozen boys were engaged in milking the cows: the cattle were from twenty-five to thirty head. The change from hard and scanty fare caused illness in several of our party. I had tasted no animal food except what turtle-doves and guinea-fowls could be shot since we passed Matawatawa,--true, a fowl was given by Mtendé. The last march was remarkable for the scarcity of birds, so eight days were spent on porridge and rice without relish. I gave Mataka a trinket, to be kept in remembrance of his having sent back the Nyassa people: he replied that he would always act in a similar manner. As it was a spontaneous act, it was all the more valuable. The sepoys have become quite intolerable, and if I cannot get rid of them we shall all starve before we accomplish what we wish. They dawdle behind picking up wild fruits, and over our last march (which we accomplished on the morning of the eighth day) they took from fourteen to twenty-two days. Retaining their brutal feelings to the last they killed the donkey which I lent to the havildar to carry his things, by striking it on the head when in boggy places into which they had senselessly driven it loaded; then the havildar came on (his men pretending they could go no further from weakness), and killed the young buffalo and eat it when they thought they could hatch up a plausible story. They said it had died, and tigers came and devoured it--they saw them. "Did you see the stripes of the tiger?" said I. All declared that they saw the stripes distinctly. This gave us an idea of their truthfulness, as there is no striped tiger in all Africa. All who resolved on skulking or other bad behaviour invariably took up with the sepoys; their talk seemed to suit evil-doers, and they were such a disreputable-looking lot that I was quite ashamed of them. The havildar had no authority, and all bore the sulky dogged look of people going where they were forced but hated to go. This hang-dog expression of countenance was so conspicuous that I many a time have heard the country people remark, "These are the slaves of the party." They have neither spirit nor pluck as compared with the Africans, and if one saw a village he turned out of the way to beg in the most abject manner, or lay down and slept, the only excuse afterwards being, "My legs were sore." Having allowed some of them to sleep at the fire in my house, they began a wholesale plunder of everything they could sell, as cartridges, cloths, and meat, so I had to eject them. One of them then threatened to shoot my interpreter Simon if he got him in a quiet place away from the English power. As this threat had been uttered three times, and I suspect that something of the kind had prevented the havildar exerting his authority, I resolved to get rid of them by sending them back to the coast by the first trader. It is likely that some sympathizers will take their part, but I strove to make them useful. They had but poor and scanty fare in a part of the way, but all of us suffered alike. They made themselves thoroughly disliked by their foul talk and abuse, and if anything tended more than another to show me that theirs was a moral unfitness for travel, it was the briskness assumed when they knew they were going back to the coast. I felt inclined to force them on, but it would have been acting from revenge, and to pay them out, so I forbore. I gave Mataka forty-eight yards of calico, and to the sepoys eighteen yards, and arranged that he should give them food till Suleiman, a respectable trader, should arrive. He was expected every day, and we passed him near the town. If they chose to go and get their luggage, it was of course all safe for them behind. The havildar begged still to go on with me, and I consented, though he is a drag on the party, but he will count in any difficulty. Abraham recognised his uncle among the crowds who came to see us. On making himself known he found that his mother and two sisters had been sold to the Arabs after he had been enslaved. The uncle pressed him to remain, and Mataka urged, and so did another uncle, but in vain. I added my voice, and could have given him goods to keep him afloat a good while, but he invariably replied, "How can I stop where I have no mother and no sister?" The affection seems to go to the maternal side. I suggested that he might come after he had married a wife, but I fear very much that unless some European would settle, none of these Nassick boys will come to this country. It would be decidedly better if they were taught agriculture in the simplest form, as the Indian. Mataka would have liked to put his oxen to use, but Abraham could not help him with that. He is a smith, or rather a nothing, for unless he could smelt iron he would be entirely without materials to work with. _14th-28th July, 1866._--One day, calling at Mataka's, I found as usual a large crowd of idlers, who always respond with a laugh to everything he utters as wit. He asked, if he went to Bombay what ought he to take to secure some gold? I replied, "Ivory," he rejoined, "Would slaves not be a good speculation?" I replied that, "if he took slaves there for sale, they would put him in prison." The idea of the great Mataka in "chokee" made him wince, and the laugh turned for once against him. He said that as all the people from the coast crowd to him, they ought to give him something handsome for being here to supply their wants. I replied, if he would fill the fine well-watered country we had passed over with people instead of sending them off to Kilwa, he would confer a benefit on visitors, but we had been starved on the way to him; and I then told him what the English would do in road-making in a fine country like this. This led us to talk of railways, ships, ploughing with oxen--the last idea struck him most. I told him that I should have liked some of the Nassick boys to remain and teach this and other things, but they might be afraid to venture lest they should be sold again. The men who listened never heard such decided protests against selling each other into slavery before! The idea of guilt probably floated but vaguely in their minds, but the loss of life we have witnessed (in the guilt of which the sellers as well as the buyers participate) comes home very forcibly to their minds. Mataka has been an active hand in slave wars himself, though now he wishes to settle down in quiet. The Waiyau generally are still the most active agents the slave-traders have. The caravan leaders from Kilwa arrive at a Waiyau village, show the goods they have brought, are treated liberally by the elders, and told to wait and enjoy themselves, slaves enough to purchase all will be procured: then a foray is made against the Manganja, who have few or no guns. The Waiyau who come against them are abundantly supplied with both by their coast guests. Several of the low coast Arabs, who differ in nothing from the Waiyau, usually accompany the foray, and do business on their own account: this is the usual way in which a safari is furnished with slaves. Makanjela, a Waiyau chief about a third of the way from Mtendé's to Mataka, has lost the friendship of all his neighbours by kidnapping and selling their people; if any of Mataka's people are found in the district between Makanjela and Moembé, they are considered fair game and sold. Makanjela's people cannot piss Mataka to go to the Manganja, so they do what they can by kidnapping and plundering all who fall into their hands. When I employed two of Mataka's people to go back on the 14th with food to the havildar and sepoys, they went a little way and relieved some, but would not venture as far as the Luatizé, for fear of losing their liberty by Makanjela's people. I could not get the people of the country to go back; nor could I ask the Nassick boys, who had been threatened by the sepoys with assassination,--and it was the same with the Johanna men, because, though Mahometans, the sepoys had called them Caffirs, &c., and they all declared, "We are ready to do anything for you, but we will do nothing for these Hindis." I sent back a sepoy, giving him provisions; he sat down in the first village, ate all the food, and returned. An immense tract of country lies uninhabited. To the north-east of Moembé we have at least fifty miles of as fine land as can be seen anywhere, still bearing all the marks of having once supported a prodigious iron-smelting and grain-growing population. The clay pipes which are put on the nozzles of their bellows and inserted into the furnace are met with everywhere--often vitrified. Then the ridges on which they planted maize, beans, cassava, and sorghum, and which they find necessary to drain off the too abundant moisture of the rains, still remain unlevelled to attest the industry of the former inhabitants; the soil being clayey, resists for a long time the influence of the weather. These ridges are very regular, for in crossing the old fields, as the path often compels us to do, one foot treads regularly on the ridge, and the other in the hollow, for a considerable distance. Pieces of broken pots, with their rims ornamented with very good imitations of basket-work, attest that the lady potters of old followed the example given them by their still more ancient mothers,--their designs are rude, but better than we can make them without referring to the original. [Illustration: Imitation of basket-work in Pottery.] No want of water has here acted to drive the people away, as has been the case further south. It is a perpetual succession of ridge and valley, with a running stream or oozing bog, where ridge is separated from ridge: the ridges become steeper and narrower as we approach Mataka's. I counted fifteen running burns of from one to ten yards wide in one day's march of about six hours; being in a hilly or rather mountainous region, they flow rapidly and have plenty of water-power. In July any mere torrent ceases to flow, but these were brawling burns with water too cold (61°) for us to bathe in whose pores were all open by the relaxing regions nearer the coast. The sound, so un-African, of gushing water dashing over rocks was quite familiar to our ears. This district, which rises up west of Mataka's to 3400 feet above the sea, catches a great deal of the moisture brought up by the easterly winds. Many of the trees are covered with lichens. While here we had cold southerly breezes, and a sky so overcast every day after 10 A.M., that we could take no astronomical observations: even the latitude was too poor to be much depended on. 12° 53' S. may have been a few miles from this. The cattle, rather a small breed, black and white in patches, and brown, with humps, give milk which is duly prized by these Waiyau. The sheep are the large-tailed variety, and generally of a black colour. Fowls and pigeons are the only other domestic animals we see, if we except the wretched village dogs which our-poodle had immense delight in chasing. The Waiyau are far from a handsome race, but they are not the prognathous beings one sees on the West Coast either. Their heads are of a round shape; compact foreheads, but not particularly receding; the alae nasi are flattened out; lips full, and with the women a small lip-ring just turns them up to give additional thickness. Their style of beauty is exactly that which was in fashion when the stone deities were made in the caves of Elephanta and Kenora near Bombay. À favourite mode of dressing the hair into little knobs, which was in fashion there, is more common in some tribes than in this. The mouths of the women would not be so hideous with a small lip-ring if they did not file their teeth to points, but they seem strong and able for the work which falls to their lot. The men are large, strong-boned fellows, and capable of enduring great fatigue, they undergo a rite which once distinguished the Jews about the age of puberty, and take a new name on the occasion; this was not introduced by the Arabs, whose advent is a recent event, and they speak of the time before they were inundated with European manufactures in exchange for slaves, as quite within their memory. Young Mataka gave me a dish of peas, and usually brought something every time he made a visit, he seems a nice boy, and his father, in speaking of learning to read, said he and his companions could learn, but he himself was too old. The soil seems very fertile, for the sweet potatoes become very large, and we bought two loads of them for three cubits and two needles; they quite exceeded 1 cwt. The maize becomes very large too; one cob had 1600 seeds. The abundance of water, the richness of soil, the available labour for building square houses, the coolness of the climate, make this nearly as desirable a residence as Magomero; but, alas! instead of three weeks' easy sail up the Zambesi and Shiré, we have spent four weary months in getting here: I shall never cease bitterly to lament the abandonment of the Magomero mission. Moaning seems a favourite way of spending the time with some sick folk. For the sake of the warmth, I allowed a Nassick boy to sleep in my house; he and I had the same complaint, dysentery, and I was certainly worse than he, but did not moan, while he played at it as often as he was awake. I told him that people moaned only when too ill to be sensible of what they were doing; the groaning ceased, though he became worse. Three sepoys played at groaning very vigorously outside my door; they had nothing the matter with them, except perhaps fatigue, which we all felt alike; as these fellows prevented my sleeping, I told them quite civilly that, if so ill that they required to groan, they had better move off a little way, as I could not sleep; they preferred the verandah, and at once forbore. The abundance of grain and other food is accompanied by great numbers of rats or large mice, which play all manner of pranks by night; white ants have always to be guarded against likewise. Anyone who would find an antidote to drive them away would confer a blessing; the natural check is the driver ant, which when it visits a house is a great pest for a time, but it clears the others out. FOOTNOTES: [12] There is a double purpose in these murders; the terror inspired in the minds of the survivors spurs them on to endure the hardships of the march: the Portuese drivers are quite alive to the merits of this stimulus.--ED. [13] A tribal distinction turns on the customs prevailing with respect to animal food, _e.g._ one tribe will eat the elephant, the next looks on such flesh as unclean, and so with other meat. The neighbouring Manganja gladly eat the leopard and hyaena.--ED. [14] A coloured cloth manufactured expressly for barter in East Africa. [15] This is pronounced "Y-yow."--ED. CHAPTER IV. Geology and description of the Waiyau land. Leaves Mataka's. The Nyumbo plant. Native iron-foundry. Blacksmiths. Makes for the Lake Nyassa. Delight at seeing the Lake once more. The Manganja or Nyassa tribe. Arab slave crossing. Unable to procure passage across. The Kungu fly. Fear of the English amongst slavers. Lake shore. Blue ink. Chitané changes colour. The Nsaka fish. Makalaosé drinks beer. The Sanjika fish. London antiquities. Lake rivers. Mukaté's. Lake Pamalombé. Mponda's. A slave gang. Wikatani discovers his relatives and remains. _28th July, 1866._--We proposed to start to-day, but Mataka said that he was not ready yet: the flour had to be ground, and he had given us no meat. He had sent plenty of cooked food almost every day. He asked if we would slaughter the ox he would give here, or take it on; we preferred to kill it at once. He came on the 28th with a good lot of flour for us, and men to guide us to Nyassa, telling us that this was Moembé, and his district extended all the way to the Lake: he would not send us to Loséwa, as that place had lately been plundered and burned. In general the chiefs have shown an anxiety to promote our safety. The country is a mass of mountains. On leaving Mataka's we ascended considerably, and about the end of the first day's march, near Magola's village, the barometer showed our greatest altitude, about 3400 feet above the sea. There were villages of these mountaineers everywhere, for the most part of 100 houses or more each. The springs were made the most use of that they knew; the damp spots drained, and the water given a free channel for use in irrigation further down: most of these springs showed the presence of iron by the oxide oozing out. A great many patches of peas are seen in full bearing and flower. The trees are small, except in the hollows: there is plenty of grass and flowers near streams and on the heights. The mountain-tops may rise 2000 or 3000 feet above their flanks, along which we wind, going perpetually up and down the steep ridges of which the country is but a succession. Looking at the geology of the district, the plateaux on each side of the Rovuma are masses of grey sandstone, capped with masses of ferruginous conglomerate; apparently an aqueous deposit. When we ascend the Rovuma about sixty miles, a great many pieces and blocks of silicified wood appear on the surface of the soil at the bottom of the slope up the plateaux. This in Africa is a sure indication of the presence of coal beneath, but it was not observed cropping out; the plateaux are cut up in various directions by wadys well supplied with grass and trees on deep and somewhat sandy soil: but at the confluence of the Loendi highlands they appear in the far distance. In the sands of the Loendi pieces of coal are quite common.[16] Before reaching the confluence of the Rovuma and Loendi, or say about ninety miles from the sea, the plateau is succeeded by a more level country, having detached granitic masses shooting up some 500 or 700 feet. The sandstone of the plateau has at first been hardened, then quite metamorphosed into a chocolate-coloured schist. As at Chilolé hill, we have igneous rocks, apparently trap, capped with masses of beautiful white dolomite. We still ascend in altitude as we go westwards, and come upon long tracts of gneiss with hornblende. The gneiss is often striated, all the striae looking one way--sometimes north and south, and at other times east and west. These rocks look as if a stratified rock had been nearly melted, and the strata fused together by the heat. From these striated rocks have shot up great rounded masses of granite or syenite, whose smooth sides and crowns contain scarcely any trees, and are probably from 3000 to 4000 feet above the sea. The elevated plains among these mountain masses show great patches of ferruginous conglomerate, which, when broken, look like yellow haematite with madrepore holes in it: this has made the soil of a red colour. On the watershed we have still the rounded granitic hills jutting above the plains (if such they may be called) which are all ups and downs, and furrowed with innumerable running rills, the sources of the Rovuma and Loendi. The highest rock observed with mica schist was at an altitude of 3440 feet. The same uneven country prevails as we proceed from the watershed about forty miles down to the Lake, and a great deal of quartz in small fragments renders travelling-very difficult. Near the Lake, and along its eastern shore, we have mica schist and gneiss foliated, with a great deal of hornblende; but the most remarkable feature of it is that the rocks are all tilted on edge, or slightly inclined to the Lake. The active agent in effecting this is not visible. It looks as if a sudden rent had been made, so as to form the Lake, and tilt all these rocks nearly over. On the east side of the lower part of the Lake we have two ranges of mountains, evidently granitic: the nearer one covered with small trees and lower than the other; the other jagged and bare, or of the granitic forms. But in all this country no fossil-yielding rock was visible except the grey sandstone referred to at the beginning of this note. The rocks are chiefly the old crystalline forms. One fine straight tall tree in the hollows seemed a species of fig: its fruit was just forming, but it was too high for me to ascertain its species. The natives don't eat the fruit, but they eat the large grubs which come out of it. The leaves were fifteen inches long by five broad: they call it Unguengo. _29th July, 1866._--At Magola's village. Although we are now rid of the sepoys, we cannot yet congratulate ourselves on being rid of the lazy habits of lying down in the path which they introduced. A strong scud comes up from the south bringing much moisture with it: it blows so hard above, this may be a storm on the coast. Temperature in mornings 55°. _30th July, 1866._--A short march brought us to Pezimba's village, which consists of 200 houses and huts. It is placed very nicely on a knoll between two burns, which, as usual, are made use of for irrigating peas in winter time. The headman said that if we left now we had a good piece of jungle before us, and would sleep twice in it before reaching Mbanga. We therefore remained. An Arab party, hearing of our approach, took a circuitous route among the mountains to avoid coming in contact with us. In travelling to Pezimba's we had commenced our western descent to the Lake, for we were now lower than Magola's by 300 feet. We crossed many rivulets and the Lochesi, a good-sized stream. The watershed parts some streams for Loendi and some for Rovuma. There is now a decided scantiness of trees. Many of the hill-tops are covered with grass or another plant; there is pleasure now in seeing them bare. Ferns, rhododendrons, and a foliaged tree, which looks in the distance like silver-fir, are met with. The Mandaré root is here called Nyumbo, when cooked it has a slight degree of bitterness with it which cultivation may remove. Mica schist crowned some of the heights on the watershed, then gneiss, and now, as we descend further, we have igneous rocks of more recent eruption, porphyry and gneiss, with hornblende. A good deal of ferruginous conglomerate, with holes in it, covers many spots; when broken, it looks like yellow haematite, with black linings to the holes: this is probably the ore used in former times by the smiths, of whose existence we now find still more evidence than further east. _31st July, 1866._--I had presented Pezimba with a cloth, so he cooked for us handsomely last night, and this morning desired us to wait a little as he had not yet sufficient meal made to present: we waited and got a generous present. It was decidedly milder here than at Mataka's, and we had a clear sky. In our morning's march we passed the last of the population, and went on through a fine well-watered fruitful country, to sleep near a mountain called Mtéwiré, by a stream called Msapo. A very large Arab slave-party was close by our encampment, and I wished to speak to them; but as soon as they knew of our being near they set off in a pathless course across country, and were six days in the wilderness.[17] _1st August, 1866._--We saw the encampment of another Arab party. It consisted of ten pens, each of which, from the number of fires it contained, may have held from eighty to a hundred slaves. The people of the country magnified the numbers, saying that they would reach from this to Mataka's; but from all I can learn, I think that from 300 to 800 slaves is the commoner gang. This second party went across country very early this morning. We saw the fire-sticks which the slaves had borne with them. The fear they feel is altogether the effect of the English name, for we have done nothing to cause their alarm. _2nd August, 1866._--There was something very cheering to me in the sight at our encampment of yellow grass and trees dotted over it, as in the Bechuana country. The birds were singing merrily too, inspired by the cold, which was 47°, and by the vicinity of some population. Gum-copal trees and bushes grow here as well as all over the country; but gum is never dug for, probably because the trees were never large enough to yield the fossil gum. Marks of smiths are very abundant and some furnaces are still standing. Much cultivation must formerly have been where now all is jungle. We arrived at Mbanga, a village embowered in trees, chiefly of the euphorbia, so common in the Manganja country further south. Kandulo, the headman, had gone to drink beer at another village, but sent orders to give a hut and to cook for us. We remained next day. Took lunars. We had now passed through, at the narrowest part, the hundred miles of depopulated country, of which about seventy are on the N.E. of Mataka. The native accounts differ as to the cause. Some say slave wars, and assert that the Makoa from the vicinity of Mozambique played an important part in them; others say famine; others that the people have moved to and beyond Nyassa.[18] Certain it is, from the potsherds strewed over the country, and the still remaining ridges on which beans, sorghum, maize, and cassava, were planted, that the departed population was prodigious. The Waiyau, who are now in the country, came from the other side of the Rovuma, and they probably supplanted the Manganja, an operation which we see going on at the present day. _4th August, 1866._--An hour and a half brought us to Miulé, a village on the same level with Mbanga; and the chief pressing us to stay, on the plea of our sleeping two nights in the jungle, instead of one if we left early next morning, we consented. I asked him what had become of the very large iron-smelting population of this region; he said many had died of famine, others had fled to the west of Nyassa: the famine is the usual effect of slave wars, and much death is thereby caused--probably much more than by the journey to the coast. He had never heard any tradition of stone hatchets having been used, nor of stone spear-heads or arrowheads of that material, nor had he heard of any being turned up by the women in hoeing. The Makondé, as we saw, use wooden spears where iron is scarce. I saw wooden hoes used for tilling the soil in the Bechuana and Bataka countries, but never stone ones. In 1841 I saw a Bushwoman in the Cape Colony with a round stone and a hole through it; on being asked she showed me how it was used by inserting the top of a digging-stick into it, and digging a root. The stone was to give the stick weight. [Illustration.] The stones still used as anvils and sledge-hammers by many of the African smiths, when considered from their point of view, show sounder sense than if they were burdened with the great weights we use. They are unacquainted with the process of case-hardening, which, applied to certain parts of our anvils, gives them their usefulness, and an anvil of their soft iron would not do so well as a hard stone. It is true a small light one might be made, but let any one see how the hammers of their iron bevel over and round in the faces with a little work, and he will perceive that only a wild freak would induce any sensible native smith to make a mass equal to a sledge-hammer, and burden himself with a weight for what can be better performed by a stone. If people are settled, as on the coast, then they gladly use any mass of cast iron they may find, but never where, as in the interior, they have no certainty of remaining any length of time in one spot. _5th August, 1866._--We left Miulé, and commenced our march towards Lake Nyassa, and slept at the last of the streams that flow to the Loendi. In Mataka's vicinity, N.E., there is a perfect brush of streams flowing to that river: one forms a lake in its course, and the sources of the Rovuma lie in the same region. After leaving Mataka's we crossed a good-sized one flowing to Loendi, and, the day after leaving Pezimba's, another going to the Chiringa or Lochiringa, which is a tributary of the Rovuma. _6th August, 1866._--We passed two cairns this morning at the beginning of the very sensible descent to the Lake. They are very common in all this Southern Africa in the passes of the mountains, and are meant to mark divisions of countries, perhaps burial-places, but the Waiyau who accompanied us thought that they were merely heaps of stone collected by some one making a garden. The cairns were placed just about the spot where the blue waters of Nyassa first came fairly into view. We now came upon a stream, the Misinjé, flowing into the Lake, and we crossed it five times; it was about twenty yards wide, and thigh deep. We made but short stages when we got on the lower plateau, for the people had great abundance of food, and gave large presents of it if we rested. One man gave four fowls, three large baskets of maize, pumpkins, eland's fat--a fine male, as seen by his horns,--and pressed us to stay, that he might see our curiosities as well as others. He said that at one day's distance south of him all sorts of animals, as buffaloes, elands, elephants, hippopotami, and antelopes, could be shot. _8th August, 1866._--We came to the Lake at the confluence of the Misinjé, and felt grateful to That Hand which had protected us thus far on our journey. It was as if I had come back to an old home I never expected again to see; and pleasant to bathe in the delicious waters again, hear the roar of the sea, and dash in the rollers. Temp. 71° at 8 A.M., while the air was 65°. I feel quite exhilarated. The headman here, Mokalaosé, is a real Manganja, and he and all his people exhibit the greater darkness of colour consequent on being in a warm moist climate; he is very friendly, and presented millet, porridge, cassava, and hippopotamus meat boiled and asked if I liked milk, as he had some of Mataka's cattle here. His people bring sanjika the best Lake fish, for sale; they are dried on stages over slow fires, and lose their fine flavour by it, but they are much prized inland. I bought fifty for a fathom of calico; when fresh, they taste exactly like the best herrings, _i.e._ as we think, but voyagers' and travellers' appetites are often so whetted as to be incapable of giving a true verdict in matters of taste. [It is necessary to explain that Livingstone knew of an Arab settlement on the western shore of the Lake, and that he hoped to induce the chief man Jumbé to give him a passage to the other side.] _10th August, 1866._--I sent Seyed Majid's letter up to Jumbé, but the messenger met some coast Arabs at the Loangwa, which may be seven miles from this, and they came back with him, haggling a deal about the fare, and then went off, saying that they would bring the dhow here for us. Finding that they did not come, I sent Musa, who brought back word that they had taken the dhow away over to Jumbé at Kotakota, or, as they pronounce it, Ngotagota. Very few of the coast Arabs can read; in words they are very polite, but truthfulness seems very little regarded. I am resting myself and people--working up journal, lunars, and altitudes--but will either move south or go to the Arabs towards the north soon. Mokalaosé's fears of the Waiyau will make him welcome Jumbé here, and then the Arab will some day have an opportunity of scattering his people as he has done those at Kotakota. He has made Loséwa too hot for himself. When the people there were carried off by Mataka's people, Jumbé seized their stores of grain, and now has no post to which he can go there. The Loangwa Arabs give an awful account of Jumbé's murders and selling the people, but one cannot take it all in; at the mildest it must have been bad. This is all they ever do; they cannot form a state or independent kingdom: slavery and the slave-trade are insuperable obstacles to any permanence inland; slaves can escape so easily, all therefore that the Arabs do is to collect as much money as they can by hook and by crook, and then leave the country. We notice a bird called namtambwé, which sings very nicely with a strong voice after dark here at the Misinjé confluence. _11th August, 1866._--Two headmen came down country from villages where we slept, bringing us food, and asking how we are treated; they advise our going south to Mukaté's, where the Lake is narrow. _12th-14th August, 1866._--Map making; but my energies were sorely taxed by the lazy sepoys, and I was usually quite tired out at night. Some men have come down from Mataka's, and report the arrival of an Englishman with cattle for me, "he has two eyes behind as well as two in front:" this is enough of news for awhile! Mokalaosé has his little afflictions, and he tells me of them. A wife ran away, I asked how many he had; he told me twenty in all: I then thought he had nineteen too many. He answered with the usual reason, "But who would cook for strangers if I had but one?" We saw clouds of "kungu" gnats on the Lake; they are not eaten here. An ungenerous traveller coming here with my statement in his hand, and finding the people denying all knowledge of how to catch and cook them, might say that I had been romancing in saying I had seen them made into cakes in the northern part of the Lake; when asking here about them, a stranger said, "They know how to use them in the north; we do not." Mokalaosé thinks that the Arabs are afraid that I may take their dhows from them and go up to the north. He and the other headmen think that the best way will be to go to Mukaté's in the south. All the Arabs flee from me, the English name being in their minds inseparably connected with recapturing slavers: they cannot conceive that I have any other object in view; they cannot read Seyed Majid's letter. _21st August, 1866._--Started for the Loangwa, on the east side of the Lake; hilly all the way, about seven miles. This river may be twenty yards wide near its confluence; the Misinjé is double that: each has accumulated a promontory of deposit and enters the Lake near its apex. We got a house from a Waiyau man on a bank about forty feet above the level of Nyassa, but I could not sleep for the manoeuvres of a crowd of the minute ants which infested it. They chirrup distinctly; they would not allow the men to sleep either, though all were pretty tired by the rough road up. _22nd August, 1866._--We removed to the south side of the Loangwa, where there are none of these little pests. _23rd August, 1866._--Proposed to the Waiyau headman to send a canoe over to call Jumbé, as I did not believe in the assertions of the half-caste Arab here that he had sent for his. All the Waiyau had helped me, and why not he? He was pleased with this, but advised waiting till a man sent to Loséwa should return. _24th August, 1866._--A leopard took a dog out of a house next to ours; he had bitten a man before, but not mortally. _29th August, 1866._--News come that the two dhows have come over to Loséwa (Loséfa). The Mazitu had chased Jumbé up the hills: had they said, on to an island, I might have believed them. _30th August,1866._--The fear which the English have inspired in the Arab slave-traders is rather inconvenient. All flee from me as if I had the plague, and I cannot in consequence transmit letters to the coast, or get across the Lake. They seem to think that if I get into a dhow I will be sure to burn it. As the two dhows on the Lake are used for nothing else but the slave-trade, their owners have no hope of my allowing them to escape, so after we have listened to various lies as excuses, we resolve to go southwards, and cross at the point of departure of the Shiré from the Lake. I took lunars several times on both sides of the moon, and have written a despatch for Lord Clarendon, besides a number of private letters. _3rd September, 1866._--Went down to confluence of the Misinjé and came to many of the eatable insect "kungu,"--they are caught by a quick motion of the hand holding a basket. We got a cake of these same insects further down; they make a buzz like a swarm of bees, and are probably the perfect state of some Lake insect. I observed two beaches of the Lake: one about fifteen feet above the present high-water mark, and the other about forty above that; but between the two the process of disintegration, which results from the sudden cold and heat in these regions, has gone on so much that seldom is a well-rounded smoothed one seen; the lower beach is very well marked. The strike of large masses of foliated gneiss is parallel with the major axis of the Lake, and all are tilted on edge. Some are a little inclined to the Lake, as if dipping to it westwards, but others are as much inclined the opposite way, or twisted. I made very good blue ink from the juice of a berry, the fruit of a creeper, which is the colour of port wine when expressed. A little ferri carb. ammon., added to this is all that is required. The poodle dog Chitané is rapidly changing the colour of its hair. All the parts corresponding to the ribs and neck are rapidly becoming red; the majority of country dogs are of this colour. The Manganja, or Wa-nyassa, are an aboriginal race; they have great masses of hair, and but little, if any, of the prognathous in the profile. Their bodies and limbs are very well made, and the countenance of the men is often very pleasant. The women are very plain and lumpy, but exceedingly industrious in their gardens from early morning till about 11 A.M., then from 3 P.M. till dark, or pounding corn and grinding it: the men make twine or nets by day, and are at their fisheries in the evenings and nights. They build the huts, the women plaster them. A black fish, the Nsaka, makes a hole, with raised edges, which, with the depth from which they are taken, is from fifteen to eighteen inches, and from two to three feet broad. It is called by the natives their house. The pair live in it for some time, or until the female becomes large for spawning; this operation over, the house is left. I gave Mokalaosé some pumpkin seed and peas. He took me into his house, and presented a quantity of beer. I drank a little, and seeing me desist from taking more, he asked if I wished a servant-girl to "_pata mimba_." Not knowing what was meant, I offered the girl the calabash of beer, and told her to drink, but this was not the intention. He asked if I did not wish more; and then took the vessel, and as he drank the girl performed the operation on himself. Placing herself in front, she put both hands round his waist below the short ribs, and pressing gradually drew them round to his belly in front. He took several prolonged draughts, and at each she repeated the operation, as if to make the liquor go equally over the stomach. Our topers don't seem to have discovered the need for this. _5th September, 1866._--Our march is along the shore to Ngombo promontory, which approaches so near to Senga or Tsenga opposite, as to narrow the Lake to some sixteen or eighteen miles. It is a low sandy point, the edge fringed on the north-west and part of the south with a belt of papyrus and reeds; the central parts wooded. Part of the south side has high sandy dunes, blown up by the south wind, which strikes it at right angles there. One was blowing as we marched along the southern side eastwards, and was very tiresome. We reached Panthunda's village by a brook called Lilolé. Another we crossed before coming to it is named Libesa: these brooks form the favourite spawning grounds of the sanjika and mpasa, two of the best fishes of the Lake. The sanjika is very like our herring in shape and taste and size; the mpasa larger every way: both live on green herbage formed at the bottom of the Lake and rivers. _7th September, 1866._--Chirumba's village being on the south side of a long lagoon, we preferred sleeping on the mainland, though they offered their cranky canoes to ferry us over. This lagoon is called Pansangwa. _8th September, 1866._--In coming along the southern side of Ngombo promontory we look eastwards, but when we leave it we turn southwards, having a double range of lofty mountains on our left. These are granitic in form, the nearer range being generally the lowest, and covered with scraggy trees; the second, or more easterly, is some 6000 feet above the sea, bare and rugged, with jagged peaks shooting high into the air. This is probably the newest range. The oldest people have felt no earthquake, but some say that they have heard of such things from their elders. We passed very many sites of old villages, which are easily known by the tree euphorbia planted round an umbelliferous one, and the sacred fig. One species here throws out strong buttresses in the manner of some mangroves instead of sending down twiners which take root, as is usually the ease with the tropical fig. These, with millstones--stones for holding the pots in cooking--and upraised clay benches, which have been turned into brick by fire in the destruction of the huts, show what were once the "pleasant haunts of men." No stone implements ever appear. If they existed they could not escape notice, since the eyes in walking are almost always directed to the ground to avoid stumbling on stones or stumps. In some parts of the world stone implements are so common they seem to have been often made and discarded as soon as formed, possibly by getting better tools; if, indeed, the manufacture is not as modern as that found by Mr. Waller. Passing some navvies in the City who were digging for the foundation of a house, he observed a very antique-looking vase, wet from the clay, standing on the bank. He gave ten shillings for it, and subsequently, by the aid of a scrubbing brush and some water, detected the hieroglyphics "Copeland late Spode" on the bottom of it! Here the destruction is quite recent, and has been brought about by some who entertained us very hospitably on the Misinjé, before we came to the confluence. The woman chief, Ulenjelenjé, or Njelenjé, bore a part in it for the supply of Arab caravans. It was the work of the Masininga, a Waiyau tribe, of which her people form a part. They almost depopulated the broad fertile tract, of some three or four miles, between the mountain range and the Lake, along which our course lay. It was wearisome to see the skulls and bones scattered about everywhere; one would fain not notice them, but they are so striking as one trudges along the sultry path, that it cannot be avoided. _9th September, 1866._--We spent Sunday at Kandango's village. The men killed a hippopotamus when it was sleeping on the shore; a full-grown female, 10 feet 9 inches from the snout to the insertion of the tail, and 4 feet 4 inches high at the withers. The bottom here and all along southwards now is muddy. Many of the _Siluris Glanis_ are caught equal in length to an eleven or a twelve-pound salmon, but a great portion is head; slowly roasted on a stick stuck in the ground before the fire they seemed to me much more savoury than I ever tasted them before. With the mud we have many shells: north of Ngombo scarcely one can be seen, and there it is sandy or rocky. _10th September, 1866._--In marching southwards we came close to the range (the Lake lies immediately on the other side of it), but we could not note the bays which it forms; we crossed two mountain torrents from sixty to eighty yards broad, and now only ankle deep. In flood these bring down enormous trees, which are much battered and bruised among the rocks in their course; they spread over the plain, too, and would render travelling here in the rains impracticable. After spending the night at a very civil headman's chefu, we crossed the Lotendé, another of these torrents: each very lofty mass in the range seemed to give rise to one. Nothing of interest occurred as we trudged along. A very poor headman, Pamawawa, presented a roll of salt instead of food: this was grateful to us, as we have been without that luxury some time. _12th September, 1866._--We crossed the rivulet Nguena, and then went on to another with a large village by it, it is called Pantoza Pangone. The headman had been suffering from sore eyes for four months, and pressed me to stop and give him medicine, which I did. _13th September, 1866._--We crossed a strong brook called Nkoré. My object in mentioning the brooks which were flowing at this time, and near the end of the dry season, is to give an idea of the sources of supply of evaporation. The men enumerate the following, north of the Misinjé. Those which are greater are marked thus +, and the lesser ones -. 1. Misinjé + has canoes. 2. Loangwa - 3. Leséfa - 4. Lelula - 5. Nchamanjé - 6. Musumba + 7. Fubwé + 8. Chia - 9. Kisanga + 10. Bweka - 11. Chifumero + has canoes. 12. Loangwa - 13. Mkoho - 14. Mangwelo - at N. end of Lake. Including the above there are twenty or twenty-four perennial brooks and torrents which give a good supply of water in the dry season; in the wet season they are supplemented by a number of burns, which, though flowing now, have their mouths blocked up with bars of sand, and yield nothing except by percolation; the Lake rises at least four feet perpendicularly in the wet season, and has enough during the year from these perennial brooks to supply the Shiré's continual flow. [It will be remembered that the beautiful river Shiré carries off the waters of Lake Nyassa and joins the Zambesi near Mount Morambala, about ninety miles from the sea. It is by this water-way that Livingstone always hoped to find an easy access to Central Africa. The only obstacles that exist are, first, the foolish policy of the Portuguese with regard to Customs' duties at the mouth of the Zambesi; and secondly, a succession of cataracts on the Shiré, which impede navigation for seventy miles. The first hindrance may give way under more liberal views than those which prevail at present at the Court of Lisbon, and then the remaining difficulty--accepted as a fact--will be solved by the establishment of a boat service both above and below the cataracts. Had Livingstone survived he would have been cheered by hearing that already several schemes are afoot to plant Missions in the vicinity of Lake Nyassa, and we may with confidence look to the revival of the very enterprise which he presently so bitterly deplores as a thing of the past, for Bishop Steere has fully determined to re-occupy the district in which fell his predecessor, Bishop Mackenzie, and others attached to the Universities Mission.] In the course of this day's march we were pushed close to the Lake by Mount Gomé, and, being now within three miles of the end of the Lake, we could see the whole plainly. There we first saw the Shiré emerge, and there also we first gazed on the broad waters of Nyassa. Many hopes have been disappointed here. Far down on the right bank of the Zambesi lies the dust of her whose death changed all my future prospects; and now, instead of a check being given to the slave-trade by lawful commerce on the Lake, slave-dhows prosper! An Arab slave-party fled on hearing of us yesterday. It is impossible not to regret the loss of good Bishop Mackenzie, who sleeps far down the Shiré, and with him all hope of the Gospel being introduced into Central Africa. The silly abandonment of all the advantages of the Shiré route by the Bishop's successor I shall ever bitterly deplore, but all will come right some day, though I may not live to participate in the joy, or even see the commencement of better times. In the evening we reached the village of Cherekalongwa on the brook Pamchololo, and were very jovially received by the headman with beer. He says that Mukaté,[19] Kabinga, and Mponda alone supply the slave-traders now by raids on the Manganja, but they go S.W. to the Maravi, who, impoverished by a Mazitu raid, sell each other as well. _14th, September, 1866._--At Cherekalongwa's (who has a skin disease, believed by him to have been derived from eating fresh-water turtles), we were requested to remain one day in order that he might see us. He had heard much about us; had been down the Shiré, and as far as Mosambique, but never had an Englishman in his town before. As the heat is great we were glad of the rest and beer, with which he very freely supplied us. I saw the skin of a Phenembe, a species of lizard which devours chickens; here it is named Salka. It had been flayed by a cut up the back--body, 12 inches; across belly, 10 inches. After nearly giving up the search for Dr. Roscher's point of reaching the Lake--because no one, either Arab or native, had the least idea of either Nusseewa or Makawa, the name given to the place--I discovered it in Lesséfa, the accentuated _é_ being sounded as our _e_ in _set_. This word would puzzle a German philologist, as being the origin of Nussewa, but the Waiyau pronounce it Loséwa, the Arabs Lusséwa, and Roscher's servant transformed the _L_ and _é_ into _N_ and _ee_, hence Nusseewa. In confirmation of this rivulet Leséfa, which is opposite Kotakota, or, as the Arabs pronounce it, Nkotakota, the chief is Mangkaka (Makawa), or as there is a confusion of names as to chief it may be Mataka, whose town and district is called Moembé, the town Pamoembe = Mamemba. I rest content with Kingomango so far verifying the place at which he arrived two months after we had discovered Lake Nyassa. He deserved all the credit due to finding the way thither, but he travelled as an Arab, and no one suspected him to be anything else. Our visits have been known far and wide, and great curiosity excited; but Dr. Roscher merits the praise only of preserving his _incognito_ at a distance from Kilwa: his is almost the only case known of successfully assuming the Arab guise--Burckhardt is the exception. When Mr. Palgrave came to Muscat, or a town in Oman where our political agent Col. Desborough was stationed, he was introduced to that functionary by an interpreter as Hajee Ali, &c. Col. Desborough replied, "You are no Hajee Ali, nor anything else but Gifford Palgrave, with whom I was schoolfellow at the Charter House." Col. Desborough said he knew him at once, from a peculiar way of holding his head, and Palgrave begged him not to disclose his real character to his interpreter, on whom, and some others, he had been imposing. I was told this by Mr. Dawes, a Lieutenant in the Indian navy, who accompanied Colonel Pelly in his visit to the Nejed, Riad, &c, and took observations for him. _Tañgaré_ is the name of a rather handsome bean, which possesses intoxicating qualities. To extract these it is boiled, then peeled, and new water supplied: after a second and third boiling it is pounded, and the meal taken to the river and the water allowed to percolate through it several times. Twice cooking still leaves the intoxicating quality; but if eaten then it does not cause death: it is curious that the natives do not use it expressly to produce intoxication. When planted near a tree it grows all over it, and yields abundantly: the skin of the pod is velvety, like our broad beans. Another bean, with a pretty white mark on it, grows freely, and is easily cooked, and good: it is here called _Gwingwiza_. _15th September, 1866._--We were now a short distance south of the Lake, and might have gone west to Mosauka's (called by some Pasauka's) to cross the Shiré there, but I thought that my visit to Mukaté's, a Waiyau chief still further south, might do good. He, Mponda, and Kabinga, are the only three chiefs who still carry on raids against the Manganja at the instigation of the coast Arabs, and they are now sending periodical marauding parties to the Maravi (here named Malola) to supply the Kilwa slave-traders. We marched three hours southwards, then up the hills of the range which flanks all the lower part of the Lake. The altitude of the town is about 800 feet above the Lake. The population near the chief is large, and all the heights as far as the eye can reach are crowned with villages. The second range lies a few miles off, and is covered with trees as well as the first, the nearest high mass is Mañgoché. The people live amidst plenty. All the chiefs visited by the Arabs have good substantial square houses built for their accommodation. Mukaté never saw a European before, and everything about us is an immense curiosity to him and to his people. We had long visits from him. He tries to extract a laugh out of every remark. He is darker than the generality of Waiyau, with a full beard trained on the chin, as all the people hereabouts have--Arab fashion. The courts of his women cover a large space, our house being on one side of them. I tried to go out that way, but wandered, so the ladies sent a servant to conduct me out in the direction I wished to go, and we found egress by passing through some huts with two doors in them. _16th September, 1866._--At Mukaté's. The Prayer Book does not give ignorant persons any idea of an unseen Being addressed, it looks more like reading or speaking to the book: kneeling and praying with eyes shut is better than, our usual way of holding Divine service. We had a long discussion about the slave-trade. The Arabs have told the chief that our object in capturing slavers is to get them into our own possession, and make them of our own religion. The evils which we have seen--the skulls, the ruined villages, the numbers who perish on the way to the coast and on the sea, the wholesale murders committed by the Waiyau to build up Arab villages elsewhere--these things Mukaté often tried to turn off with a laugh, but our remarks are safely lodged in many hearts. Next day, as we went along, our guide spontaneously delivered their substance to the different villages along our route. Before we reached him, a headman, in convoying me a mile or two, whispered to me, "Speak to Mukaté to give his forays up." It is but little we can do, but we lodge a protest in the heart against a vile system, and time may ripen it. Their great argument is, "What could we do without Arab cloth?" My answer is, "Do what you did before the Arabs came into the country." At the present rate of destruction of population, the whole country will soon be a desert. An earthquake happened here last year, that is about the end of it or beginning of this (the crater on the Grand. Comoro Island smoked for three months about that time); it shook all the houses and everything, but they observed no other effects.[20] No hot springs are known here. _17th September, 1866._--We marched down from Mukaté's and to about the middle of the Lakelet Pamalombé. Mukaté had no people with canoes near the usual crossing place, and he sent a messenger to see that we were fairly served. Here we got the Manganja headmen to confess that an earthquake had happened; all the others we have inquired of have denied it; why, I cannot conceive. The old men said that they had felt earthquakes twice, once near sunset and the next time at night--they shook everything, and were accompanied with noise, and all the fowls cackled; there was no effect on the Lake observed. They profess ignorance of any tradition of the water having stood higher. Their traditions say that they came originally from the west, or west north-west, which they call "Maravi;" and that their forefathers taught them to make nets and kill fish. They have no trace of any teaching by a higher instructor; no carvings or writings on the rocks; and they never heard of a book until we came among them. Their forefathers never told them that after or at death they went to God, but they had heard it said of such a one who died, "God took him." _18th September, 1866._--We embarked the whole party in eight canoes, and went up the Lake to the point of junction between it and the prolongation of Nyassa above it, called Massangano ("meetings"), which took us two hours. A fishing party there fled on seeing us, though we shouted that we were a travelling party (or "Olendo "). Mukaté's people here left us, and I walked up to the village of the fugitives with one attendant only. Their suspicions were so thoroughly aroused that they would do nothing. The headman (Pima) was said to be absent; they could not lend us a hut, but desired us to go on to Mponda's. We put up a shed for ourselves, and next morning, though we pressed them for a guide, no one would come. From Pima's village we had a fine view of Pamalombé and the range of hills on its western edge, the range which flanks the lower part of Nyassa,--on part of which Mukaté lives,--the gap of low land south of it behind which Shirwa Lake lies, and Chikala and Zomba nearly due south from us. People say hippopotami come from Lake Shirwa into Lake Nyassa. There is a great deal of vegetation in Pamalombé, gigantic rushes, duckweed, and great quantities of aquatic plants on the bottom; one slimy translucent plant is washed ashore in abundance. Fish become very fat on these plants; one called "kadiakola" I eat much of; it has a good mass of flesh on it. It is probable that the people of Lake Tanganyika and Nyassa, and those on the Rivers Shiré and Zambesi, are all of one stock, for the dialects vary very little.[21] I took observations on this point. An Arab slave-party, hearing of us, decamped. _19th September, 1866._--When we had proceeded a mile this morning we came to 300 or 400 people making salt on a plain impregnated with it. They lixiviate the soil and boil the water, which has filtered through a bunch of grass in a hole in the bottom of a pot, till all is evaporated and a mass of salt left. We held along the plain till we came to Mponda's, a large village, with a stream running past. The plain at the village is very fertile, and has many large trees on it. The cattle of Mponda are like fatted Madagascar beasts, and the hump seems as if it would weigh 100 lbs.[22] The size of body is so enormous that their legs, as remarked by our men, seemed very small. Mponda is a blustering sort of person, but immensely interested in everything European. He says that he would like to go with me. "Would not care though he were away ten years." I say that he may die in the journey.--"He will die here as well as there, but he will see all the wonderful doings of our country." He knew me, having come to the boat, to take a look _incognito_ when we were here formerly. We found an Arab slave-party here, and went to look at the slaves; seeing this; Mponda was alarmed lest we should proceed to violence in his town, but I said to him that we went to look only. Eighty-five slaves were in a pen formed of dura stalks _(Holcus sorghum_). The majority were boys of about eight or ten years of age; others were grown men and women. Nearly all were in the taming-stick; a few of the younger ones were in thongs, the thong passing round the neck of each. Several pots were on the fires cooking dura and beans. A crowd went with us, expecting a scene, but I sat down, and asked a few questions about the journey, in front. The slave-party consisted of five or six half-caste coast Arabs, who said that they came from Zanzibar; but the crowd made such a noise that we could not hear ourselves speak. I asked if they had any objections to my looking at the slaves, the owners pointed out the different slaves, and said that after feeding them, and accounting for the losses in the way to the coast, they made little by the trip. I suspect that the gain is made by those who ship them to the ports of Arabia, for at Zanzibar most of the younger slaves we saw went at about seven dollars a head. I said to them it was a bad business altogether. They presented fowls to me in the evening. _20th September, 1866._--The chief begged so hard that I would stay another day and give medicine to a sick child, that I consented. He promised plenty of food, and, as an earnest of his sincerity, sent an immense pot of beer in the evening. The child had been benefited by the medicine given yesterday. He offered more food than we chose to take. The agricultural class does not seem to be a servile one: all cultivate, and the work is esteemed. The chief was out at his garden when we arrived, and no disgrace is attached to the field labourer. The slaves very likely do the chief part of the work, but all engage in it, and are proud of their skill. Here a great deal of grain is raised, though nearly all the people are Waiyau or Machinga. This is remarkable, as they have till lately been marauding and moving from place to place. The Manganja possessed the large breed of humped cattle which fell into the hands of the Waiyau, and knew how to milk them. Their present owners never milk them, and they have dwindled into a few instead of the thousands of former times.[23] A lion killed a woman early yesterday morning, and ate most of her undisturbed. It is getting very hot; the ground to the feet of the men "burns like fire" after noon, so we are now obliged to make short marches, and early in the morning chiefly. Wikatani--Bishop Mackenzie's favourite boy--met a brother here, and he finds that he has an elder brother and a sister at Kabinga's. The father who sold him into slavery is dead. He wishes to stop with his relatives, and it will be well if he does. Though he has not much to say, what he does advance against the slave-trade will have its weight, and it will all be in the way of preparation for better times and more light. The elder brother was sent for, but had not arrived when it was necessary for us to leave Mponda's on the Rivulet Ntemangokwé. I therefore gave Wikatani some cloth, a flint gun instead of the percussion one he carried, some flints, paper to write upon, and commended him to Mponda's care till his relatives arrived. He has lately shown a good deal of levity, and perhaps it is best that he should have a touch of what the world is in reality. [In a letter written about this time Dr. Livingstone, in speaking of Wikatani, says, "He met with a brother, and found that he had two brothers and one or two sisters living down at the western shore of Lake Pamelombé under Kabinga. He thought that his relatives would not again sell him. I had asked him if he wished to remain, and he at once said yes, so I did not attempt to dissuade him: his excessive levity will perhaps be cooled by marriage. I think he may do good by telling some of what he has seen and heard. I asked him if he would obey an order from his chief to hunt the Manganja, and he said, 'No.' I hope he won't. In the event of any mission coming into the country of Mataka, he will go there. I gave him paper to write to you,[24] and, commending him to the chiefs, bade the poor boy farewell. I was sorry to part with him, but the Arabs tell the Waiyau chiefs that our object in liberating slaves is to make them our own and turn them to our religion. I had declared to them, through Wikatani as interpreter, that they never became our slaves, and were at liberty to go back to their relatives if they liked; and now it was impossible to object to Wikatani going without stultifying my own statements." It is only necessary to repeat that Wikatani and Chuma had been liberated from the slavers by Dr. Livingstone and Bishop Mackenzie in 1861; they were mere children when set free. We must not forget to record the fact that when Mr. Young reached Maponda, two years afterwards, to ascertain whether the Doctor really had been murdered, as Musa declared, he was most hospitably received by the chief, who had by this time a great appreciation of everything English.] The lines of tattoo of the different tribes serve for ornaments, and are resorted to most by the women; it is a sort of heraldry closely resembling the Highland tartans. [Illustration: Manganja and Machinga women (from a Drawing by the late Dr. Meller).] FOOTNOTES: [16] Coal was shown to a group of natives when first the _Pioneer_ ascended the river Shiré. Members of numerous tribes were present, and all recognised it at once as Makala or coal.--ED. [17] Dr. Livingstone heard this subsequently when at Casembe's. [18] The greater part were driven down into the Manganja country by war and famine combined, and eventually filled the slave gangs of the Portuguese, whose agents went from Tette and Senna to procure them.--ED. [19] Pronounced Mkata by the Waiyau.--ED. [20] Earthquakes are by no means uncommon. A slight shock was felt in 1861 at Magomero; on asking the natives if they knew the cause of it, they replied that on one occasion, after a very severe earthquake which shook boulders off the mountains, all the wise men of the country assembled to talk about it and came to the following conclusion, that a star had fallen from heaven into the sea, and that the bubbling caused the whole earth to rock; they said the effect was the same as that caused by throwing, a red-hot stone into a pot of water.--ED. [21] The Waiyau language differs very much from the Nyassa, and is exceedingly difficult to master: it holds good from the coast to Nyassa, but to the west of the Lake the Nyassa tongue is spoken over a vast tract.--ED. [22] We shall see that more to the north the hump entirely disappears. [23] It is very singular to witness the disgust with which the idea of drinking milk is received by most of these tribes when we remember that the Caffre nations on the south, and again, tribes more to the north, subsist principally on it. A lad will undergo punishment rather than milk a goat. Eggs are likewise steadily eschewed.--ED. [24] To myself.--ED. CHAPTER V. Crosses Cape Maclear. The havildar demoralised. The discomfited chief. Beaches Marenga's town. The earth-sponge. Description of Marenga's town. Rumours of Mazitu. Musa and the Johanna men desert. Beaches Kimsusa's. His delight at seeing the Doctor once more. The fat ram. Kimsusa relates his experience of Livingstone's advice. Chuma finds relatives. Kimsusa solves the transport difficulty nobly. Another old fishing acquaintance. Description of the people and country on the west of the Lake. The Kanthundas. Kauma. Iron-smelting. An African Sir Colin Campbell. Milandos. _21st September, 1866._--We marched westwards, making across the base of Cape Maclear. Two men employed as guides and carriers, went along grumbling that their dignity was so outraged by working--"only fancy Waiyau carrying like slaves!!" They went but a short distance, and took advantage of my being in front to lay down the loads, one of which consisted of the havildar's bed and cooking things; here they opened the other bundle and paid themselves--the gallant havildar sitting and looking on. He has never been of the smallest use, and lately has pretended to mysterious pains in his feet; no swelling or other symptom accompanied this complaint. On coming to Pima's village he ate a whole fowl and some fish for supper, slept soundly till daybreak, then on awaking commenced a furious groaning--"feet were so bad." I told him that people usually moaned when insensible, but he had kept quiet till he awaked; he sulked at this, and remained all day, though I sent a man to carry his kit for him, and when he came up he had changed the seat of his complaint from his feet to any part of his abdomen. He gave off his gun-belt and pouch to the carrier. This was a blind to me, for I examined and found that he had already been stealing and selling his ammunition: this is all preparatory to returning to the coast with some slave-trader. Nothing can exceed the ease and grace with which sepoys can glide from a swagger into the most abject begging of food from the villagers. He has remained behind. _22nd September, 1866._--The hills we crossed were about 700 feet above Nyassa, generally covered with trees; no people were seen. We slept by the brook Sikoché. Rocks of hardened sandstone rested on mica schist, which had an efflorescence of alum on it, above this was dolomite; the hills often capped with it and oak-spar, giving a snowy appearance. We had a Waiyau party with us--six handsomely-attired women carried huge pots of beer for their husbands, who very liberally invited us to partake. After seven hours' hard travelling we came to the village, where we spend Sunday by the torrent Usangazi, and near a remarkable mountain, Namasi. The chief, a one-eyed man, was rather coy--coming _incognito_ to visit us; and, as I suspected that he was present, I asked if the chief were an old woman, afraid to look at and welcome a stranger? All burst into a laugh, and looked at him, when he felt forced to join in it, and asked what sort of food we liked best. Chuma put this clear enough by saying, "He eats everything eaten by the Waiyau." This tribe, or rather the Machinga, now supersede the Manganja. We passed one village of the latter near this, a sad, tumble-down affair, while the Waiyau villages are very neat, with handsome straw or reed fences all around their huts. _24th September, 1866._--We went only 2-1/2 miles to the village of Marenga, a very large one, situated at the eastern edge of the bottom of the heel of the Lake. The chief is ill of a loathsome disease derived direct from the Arabs. Raised patches of scab of circular form disfigure the face and neck as well as other parts. His brother begged me to see him and administer some remedy for the same complaint. He is at a village a little way off, and though sent for, was too ill to come or to be carried. The tribe is of Babisa origin. Many of these people had gone to the coast as traders, and returning with arms and ammunition joined the Waiyau in their forays on the Manganja, and eventually set themselves up as an independent tribe. The women do not wear the lip-ring, though the majority of them are Waiyau. They cultivate largely, and have plenty to eat. They have cattle, but do not milk them. The bogs, or earthen sponges,[25] of this country occupy a most important part in its physical geography, and probably explain the annual inundations of most of the rivers. Wherever a plain sloping towards a narrow opening in hills or higher ground exists, there we have the conditions requisite for the formation of an African sponge. The vegetation, not being of a heathy or peat-forming kind, falls down, rots, and then forms rich black loam. In many cases a mass of this loam, two or three feet thick, rests on a bed of pure river sand, which is revealed by crabs and other aquatic animals bringing it to the surface. At present, in the dry season, the black loam is cracked in all directions, and the cracks are often as much as three inches wide, and very deep. The whole surface has now fallen down, and rests on the sand, but when the rains come, the first supply is nearly all absorbed in the sand. The black loam forms soft slush, and floats on the sand. The narrow opening prevents it from moving off in a landslip, but an oozing spring rises at that spot. All the pools in the lower portion of this spring-course are filled by the first rains, which happen south of the equator when the sun goes vertically over any spot. The second, or greater rains, happen in his course north again, when all the bogs and river-courses being wet, the supply runs off, and forms the inundation: this was certainly the case as observed on the Zambesi and Shiré, and, taking the different times for the sun's passage north of the equator, it explains the inundation of the Nile. _25th September, 1866._--Marenga's town on the west shore of Lake Nyassa is very large, and his people collected in great numbers to gaze at the stranger. The chief's brother asked a few questions, and I took the occasion to be a good one for telling him something about the Bible and the future state. The men said that their fathers had never told them aught about the soul, but they thought that the whole man rotted and came to nothing. What I said was very nicely put by a volunteer spokesman, who seemed to have a gift that way, for all listened most attentively, and especially when told that our Father in heaven loved all, and heard prayers addressed to Him. Marenga came dressed in a red-figured silk shawl, and attended by about ten court beauties, who spread a mat for him, then a cloth above, and sat down as if to support him. He asked me to examine his case inside a hut. He exhibited his loathsome skin disease, and being blacker than his wives, the blotches with which he was covered made him appear very ugly. He thought that the disease was in the country before Arabs came. Another new disease acquired from them was the small-pox. _26th September, 1866._--An Arab passed us yesterday, his slaves going by another route across the base of Cape Maclear. He told Musa that all the country in front was full of Mazitu; that forty-four Arabs and their followers had been killed by them at Kasungu, and he only escaped. Musa and all the Johanna men now declared that they would go no farther. Musa said, "No good country that; I want to go back to Johanna to see my father and mother and son." I took him to Marenga, and asked the chief about the Mazitu. He explained that the disturbance was caused by the Manganja finding that Jumbé brought Arabs and ammunition into the country every year, and they resented it in consequence; they would not allow more to come, because they were the sufferers, and their nation was getting destroyed. I explained to Musa that we should avoid the Mazitu: Marenga added, "There are no Mazitu near where you are going;" but Musa's eyes _stood out_ with terror, and he said, "I no can believe that man." But I inquired, "How can you believe the Arab so easily?" Musa answered, "I ask him to tell me true, and he say true, true," &c. When we started, all the Johanna men walked off, leaving the goods on the ground. They have been such inveterate thieves that I am not sorry to get rid of them; for though my party is now inconveniently small, I could not trust them with flints in their guns, nor allow them to remain behind, for their object was invariably to plunder their loads. [Here then we have Livingstone's account of the origin of that well-told story, which at first seemed too true. How Mr. Edward Young, R.N., declared it to be false, and subsequently proved it untrue, is already well known. This officer's quick voyage to Lake Nyassa reflected the greatest credit on him, and all hearts were filled with joy when he returned and reported the tale of Livingstone's murder to be merely an invention of Musa and his comrades.] I ought to mention that the stealing by the Johanna men was not the effect of hunger; it attained its height when we had plenty. If one remained behind, we knew his object in delaying was stealing. He gave what he filched to the others, and Musa shared the dainties they bought with the stolen property. When spoken to he would say, "I every day tell Johanna men no steal Doctor's things." As he came away and left them in the march, I insisted out his bringing up all his men; this he did not relish, and the amount stolen was not small. One stole fifteen pounds of fine powder, another seven, another left six table-cloths out of about twenty-four; another called out to a man to bring a fish, and he would buy it with beads, the beads being stolen, and Musa knew it all and connived at it; but it was terror that drove him away at last. With our goods in canoes we went round the bottom of the heel of Nyassa, slept among reeds, and next morning (27th) landed at Msangwa, which is nearly opposite Kimsusa's, or Katosa's, as the Makololo called him. A man had been taken off by a crocodile last night; he had been drinking beer, and went down to the water to cool himself, where he lay down, and the brute seized him. The water was very muddy, being stirred up by an east wind, which lashed the waves into our canoes, and wetted our things. The loud wail of the women is very painful to hear; it sounds so dolefully. _28th, September, 1866._--We reached Kinisusa's, below Mount Mulundini, of Kirk's range.[26] The chief was absent, but he was sent for immediately: his town has much increased since I saw it last. _29th September, 1866._--Another Arab passed last night, with the tale that his slaves had all been taken from him by the Mazitu. It is more respectable to be robbed by them than by the Manganja, who are much despised and counted nobodies. I propose to go west of this among the Maravi until quite away beyond the disturbances, whether of Mazitu or Manganja. _30th September, 1866._--We enjoy our Sunday here. We have-abundance of food from Kimsusa's wife. The chief wished me to go alone and enjoy his drinking bout, and then we could return to this place together; but this was not to my taste. _1st October, 1866._--Kimsusa, or Mehusa, came this morning, and seemed very glad again to see his old friend. He sent off at once to bring an enormous ram, which had either killed or seriously injured a man. The animal came tied to a pole to keep him off the man who held it, while a lot more carried him. He was prodigiously fat;[27] this is a true African way of showing love--plenty of fat and beer. Accordingly the chief brought a huge basket of "pombe," the native beer, and another of "nsima," or porridge, and a pot of cooked meat; to these were added a large basket of maize. So much food had been brought to us, that we had at last to explain that we could not carry it. [The Doctor states a fact in the next few lines which shows that the Africans readily profit by advice which appeals to their common sense, and we make this observation in full knowledge of similar instances.] Kimsusa says that they felt earthquakes at the place Mponda now occupies, but none where he is now. He confirms the tradition that the Manganja came from the west or W.N.W. He speaks more rationally about the Deity than some have done, and adds, that it was by following the advice which I gave him the last time I saw him, and not selling his people, that his village is now three times its former size. He has another village besides, and he was desirous that I should see that too; that was the reason he invited me to come, but the people would come and visit me. _2nd October, 1866._--Kimsusa made his appearance early with a huge basket of beer, 18 inches high and 15 inches in diameter. He served it out for a time, taking deep draughts himself, becoming extremely loquacious in consequence. He took us to a dense thicket behind his town, among numbers of lofty trees, many of which I have seen nowhere else; that under which we sat bears a fruit in clusters, which is eatable, and called "_Mbedwa_." A space had been cleared, and we were taken to this shady spot as the one in which business of importance and secrecy is transacted. Another enormous basket of beer was brought here by his wives, but there was little need for it, for Kimsusa talked incessantly, and no business was done. _3rd October, 1866._--The chief came early, and sober. I rallied him on his previous loquacity, and said one ought to find time in the morning if business was to be done: he took it in good part, and one of his wives joined in bantering him. She is _the_ wife and the mother of the sons in whom he delights, and who will succeed him. I proposed to him to send men with me to the Babisa country, and I would pay them there, where they could buy ivory for him with the pay, and, bringing it back, he would be able to purchase clothing without selling his people. He says that his people would not bring the pay or anything else back. When he sends to purchase ivory he gives the price to Arabs or Babisa, and they buy for him and conduct his business honestly; but his people, the Manganja, cannot be trusted: this shows a remarkable state of distrust, and, from previous information, it is probably true. A party of the Arab Khambuiri's people went up lately to the Maravi country above this, and immediately west of Kirk's range, to purchase slaves: but they were attacked by the Maravi, and dispersed with slaughter: this makes Kimsusa's people afraid to venture there. They had some quarrel with the Maravi also of their own, and no intercourse now took place. A path further south was followed by Mponda lately, and great damage done, so it would not be wise to go on his footsteps. Kimsusa said he would give me carriers to go up to the Maravi, but he wished to be prepaid: to this I agreed, but even then he could not prevail on anyone to go. He then sent for an old Mobisa man, who has a village under him, and acknowledges Kimsusa's power. He says that he fears that, should he force his Manganja to go, they would leave us on the road, or run away on the first appearance of danger; but this Mobisa man would be going to his own country, and would stick by us. Meanwhile the chief overstocks us with beer and other food. _4th October, 1866._--The Mobisa man sent for came, but was so ignorant of his own country, not knowing the names of the chief Babisa town or any of the rivers, that I declined his guidance. He would only have been a clog on us; and anything about the places in front of us we could ascertain at the villages where we touch by inquiry as well as he could. A woman turned up here, and persuaded Chuma that she was his aunt. He wanted to give her at once a fathom of calico and beads, and wished me to cut his pay down for the purpose. I persuaded him to be content with a few beads for her. He gave her his spoon and some other valuables, fully persuaded that she was a relative, though he was interrogated first as to his father's name, and tribe, &c., before she declared herself. It shows a most forgiving disposition on the part of these boys to make presents to those who, if genuine relations, actually sold them. But those who have been caught young, know nothing of the evils of slavery, and do not believe in its ills. Chuma, for instance, believes now that he was caught and sold by the Manganja, and not by his own Waiyau, though it was just in the opposite way that he became a slave, and he asserted and believes that no Waiyau ever sold his own child. When reminded that Wikatani was sold by his own father, he denied it; then that the father of Chimwala, another boy, sold him, his mother, and sister, he replied, "These are Machinga." This is another tribe of Waiyau; but this showed that he was determined to justify his countrymen at any rate. I mention this matter, because though the Oxford and Cambridge Mission have an advantage in the instruction of boys taken quite young from slavers, yet these same boys forget the evils to which they were exposed and from which they were rescued, and it is even likely that they will, like Chuma, deny that any benefit was conferred upon them by their deliverance. This was not stated broadly by Chuma, but his tone led one to believe that he was quite ready to return to the former state. _5th October, 1866._--The chief came early with an immense basket of beer, as usual. We were ready to start: he did not relish this; but I told him it was clear that his people set very light by his authority. He declared that he would force them or go himself, with his wives as carriers. This dawdling and guzzling had a bad effect on my remaining people. Simon, a Nassick lad, for instance, overheard two words which he understood; these were "Mazitu" and "lipululu," or desert; and from these he conjured up a picture of Mazitu rushing out upon us from the jungle, and killing all without giving us time to say a word! To this he added scraps of distorted information: Khambuiri was a very bad chief in front, &c., all showing egregious cowardice; yet he came to give me advice. On asking what he knew (as he could not speak the language), he replied that he heard the above two words, and that Chuma could not translate them, but he had caught them, and came to warn me. The chief asked me to stay over to-day, and he would go with his wives to-morrow; I was his friend, and he would not see me in difficulties without doing his utmost. He says that there is no danger of our not finding people for carrying loads. It is probable that Khambuiri's people went as marauders, and were beaten off in consequence. _6th October, 1866._--We marched about seven miles to the north to a village opposite the pass Tapiri, and on a rivulet, Godedza. It was very hot. Kimsusa behaves like a king: his strapping wives came to carry loads, and shame his people. Many of the young men turned out and took the loads, but it was evident that they feared retaliation if they ventured up the pass. One wife carried beer, another meal; and as soon as we arrived, cooking commenced: porridge and roasted goat's flesh made a decent meal. A preparation of meal called "Toku" is very refreshing and brings out all the sugary matter in the grain: he gave me some in the way, and, seeing I liked it, a calabash full was prepared for me in the evening. Kimsusa delights in showing me to his people as his friend. If I could have used his pombe, or beer, it would have put some fat on my bones, but it requires a strong digestion; many of the chiefs and their wives live on it almost entirely. A little flesh is necessary to relieve the acidity it causes; and they keep all flesh very carefully, no matter how high it may become: drying it on a stage over a fire prevents entire putridity. _7th October, 1866._--I heard hooping-cough[28] in the village. We found our visitors so disagreeable that I was glad to march; they were Waiyau, and very impudent, demanding gun or game medicine to enable them to shoot well: they came into the hut uninvited, and would take no denial. It is probable that the Arabs drive a trade in gun medicine: it is inserted in cuts made above the thumb, and on the forearm. Their superciliousness shows that they feel themselves to be the dominant race. The Manganja trust to their old bows and arrows; they are much more civil than Ajawa or Waiyau. [The difference between these two great races is here well worthy of the further notice which Livingstone no doubt would have given it. As a rule, the Manganja are extremely clever in all the savage arts and manufactures. Their looms turn out a strong serviceable cotton cloth; their iron weapons and implements show a taste for design which is not reached by the neighbouring tribes, and in all matters that relate to husbandry they excel: but in dash and courage they are deficient. The Waiyau, on the contrary, have round apple-shaped heads, as distinguished from the long well-shaped heads of the poor Manganja; they are jocular and merry, given to travelling, and bold in war--these are qualities which serve them well as they are driven from pillar to post through slave wars and internal dissension, but they have not the brains of the Manganja, nor the talent to make their mark in any direction where brains are wanted.] A Manganja man, who formerly presented us with the whole haul of his net, came and gave me four fowls: some really delight in showing kindness. When we came near the bottom of the pass Tapiri, Kimsusa's men became loud against his venturing further; he listened, then burst away from them: he listened again, then did the same; and as he had now got men for us, I thought it better to let him go. In three hours and a quarter we had made a clear ascent of 2200 feet above the Lake. The first persons we met were two men and a boy, who were out hunting with a dog and basket-trap. This is laid down in the run of some small animal; the dog chases it, and it goes into the basket which is made of split bamboo, and has prongs looking inwards, which prevent its egress: mouse traps are made in the same fashion. I suspected that the younger of the men had other game in view, and meant, if fit opportunity offered, to insert an arrow in a Waiyau, who was taking away his wife as a slave. He told me before we had gained the top of the ascent that some Waiyau came to a village, separated from his by a small valley, picked a quarrel with the inhabitants, and then went and took the wife and child of a poorer countryman to pay these pretended offences. _8th October, 1866._--At the first village we found that the people up here and those down below were mutually afraid of each other. Kimsusa came to the bottom of the range, his last act being the offer of a pot of beer, and a calabash of Toku, which latter was accepted. I paid his wives for carrying our things: they had done well, and after we gained the village where we slept, sang and clapped their hands vigorously till one o'clock in the morning, when I advised them to go to sleep. The men he at last provided were very faithful and easily satisfied. Here we found the headman, Kawa, of Mpalapala, quite as hospitable. In addition to providing a supper, it is the custom to give breakfast before starting. Resting on the 8th to make up for the loss of rest on Sunday; we marched on Tuesday (the 9th), but were soon brought to a stand by Gombwa, whose village, Tamiala, stands on another ridge. Gombwa, a laughing, good-natured man, said that he had sent for all his people to see me; and I ought to sleep, to enable them to look on one the like of whom had never come their way before. Intending to go on, I explained some of my objects in coming through the country, advising the people to refrain from selling each other, as it ends in war and depopulation. He was cunning, and said, "Well, you must sleep here, and all my people will come and hear those words of peace." I explained that I had employed carriers, who expected to be paid though I had gone but a small part of a day; he replied, "But they will go home and come again to-morrow, and it will count but one day:" I was thus constrained to remain. _9th October, 1866._--Both barometer and boiling-point showed an altitude of upwards of 4000 feet above the sea. This is the hottest month, but the air is delightfully clear, and delicious. The country is very fine, lying in long slopes, with mountains rising all around, from 2000 to 3000 feet above this upland. They are mostly jagged and rough (not rounded like those near to Mataka's): the long slopes are nearly denuded of trees, and the patches of cultivation are so large and often squarish in form, that but little imagination is requisite to transform the whole into the cultivated fields of England; but no hedgerows exist. The trees are in clumps on the tops of the ridges, or at the villages, or at the places of sepulture. Just now the young leaves are out, but are not yet green. In some lights they look brown, but with transmitted light, or when one is near them, crimson prevails. A yellowish-green is met sometimes in the young leaves, and brown, pink, and orange-red. The soil is rich, but the grass is only excessively rank in spots; in general it is short. A kind of trenching of the ground is resorted to; they hoe deep, and draw it well to themselves: this exposes the other earth to the hoe. The soil is burned too: the grass and weeds are placed in flat heaps, and soil placed over them: the burning is slow, and most of the products of combustion are retained to fatten the field; in this way the people raise large crops. Men and women and children engage in field labour, but at present many of the men are engaged in spinning buazé[29] and cotton. The former is made into a coarse sacking-looking stuff, immensely strong, which seems to be worn by the women alone; the men are clad in uncomfortable goatskins. No wild animals seem to be in the country, and indeed the population is so large they would have very unsettled times of it. At every turning we meet people, or see their villages; all armed with bows and arrows. The bows are unusually long: I measured one made of bamboo, and found that along the bowstring it measured six feet four inches. Many carry large knives of fine iron; and indeed the metal is abundant. Young men and women wear the hair long, a mass of small ringlets comes down and rests on the shoulders, giving them the appearance of the ancient Egyptians. One side is often cultivated, and the mass hangs jauntily on that side; some few have a solid cap of it. Not many women wear the lip-ring: the example of the Waiyau has prevailed so far; but some of the young women have raised lines crossing each other on the arms, which must have cost great pain: they have also small cuts, covering in some cases the whole body. The Maravi or Manganja here may be said to be in their primitive state. We find them very liberal with their food: we give a cloth to the headman of the village where we pass the night, and he gives a goat, or at least cooked fowls and porridge, at night and morning. [Illustration: Tattoo on Women.] We were invited by Gombwa in the afternoon to speak the same words to his people that we used to himself in the morning. He nudged a boy to respond, which is considered polite, though he did it only with a rough hem! at the end of each sentence. As for our general discourse we mention our relationship to our Father: His love to all His children--the guilt of selling any of His children--the consequence; _e.g._ it begets war, for they don't like to sell their own, and steal from other villagers, who retaliate. Arabs and Waiyau invited into the country by their selling, foster feuds, and war and depopulation ensue. We mention the Bible--future state--prayer: advise union, that they should unite as one family to expel enemies, who came first as slave-traders, and ended by leaving the country a wilderness. In reference to union, we showed that they ought to have seen justice done to the man who lost his wife and child at their very doors; but this want of cohesion is the bane of the Manganja. If the evil does not affect themselves they don't care whom it injures; and Gombwa confirmed this, by saying that when he routed Khambuiri's people, the villagers west of him fled instead of coming to his aid. We hear that many of the Manganja up here are fugitives from Nyassa. _10th October, 1866._--Kawa and his people were with us early this morning, and we started from Tamiala with them. The weather is lovely, and the scenery, though at present tinged with yellow from the grass, might be called glorious. The bright sun and delicious air are quite exhilarating. We passed a fine flowing rivulet, called Levizé, going into the Lake, and many smaller runnels of delicious cold water. On resting by a dark sepulchral grove, a tree attracted the attention, as nowhere else seen: it is called Bokonto, and said to bear eatable fruit. Many fine flowers were just bursting into full blossom. After about four hours' march we put up at Chitimba, the village of Kañgomba, and were introduced by Kawa, who came all the way for the purpose. _11th October, 1866._--A very cold morning, with a great bank of black clouds in the east, whence the wind came. Therm. 59°; in hut 69°. The huts are built very well. The roof, with the lower part plastered, is formed so as not to admit a ray of light, and the only visible mode of ingress for it is by the door. This case shows that winter is cold: on proposing to start, breakfast was not ready: then a plan was formed to keep me another day at a village close by, belonging to one Kulu, a man of Kauma, to whom we go next. It was effectual, and here we are detained another day. A curiously cut-out stool is in my hut, made by the Mkwisa, who are south-west of this: it is of one block, but hollowed out, and all the spaces indicated are hollow too: about 2-1/2 feet long by 1-1/2 foot high. [Illustration: Curiously cut-out stool of one block of wood hollowed out.] _12th October, 1866._--We march westerly, with a good deal of southing. Kulu gave us a goat, and cooked liberally for us all. He set off with us as if to go to Kauma's in our company, but after we had gone a couple of miles he slipped behind, and ran away. Some are naturally mean, and some naturally noble: the mean cannot help showing their nature, nor can the noble; but the noble-hearted must enjoy life most. Kulu got a cloth, and he gave us at least its value; but he thought he had got more than he gave, and so by running away that he had done us nicely, without troubling himself to go and introduce us to Kauma. I usually request a headman of a village to go with us. They give a good report of us, if for no other reason than for their own credit, because no one likes to be thought giving his countenance to people other than respectable, and it costs little. We came close to the foot of several squarish mountains, having perpendicular sides. One, called "Ulazo pa Malungo," is used by the people, whose villages cluster round its base as a storehouse for grain. Large granaries stand on its top, containing food to be used in case of war. A large cow is kept up there, which is supposed capable of knowing and letting the owners know when war is coming.[30] There is a path up, but it was not visible to us. The people are all Kanthunda, or climbers, not Maravi. Kimsusa said that he was the only Maravi chief, but this I took to be an ebullition of beer bragging: the natives up here, however, confirm this, and assert that they are not Maravi, who are known by having markings down the side of the face. We spent the night at a Kanthunda village on the western side of a mountain called Phunzé (the _h_ being an aspirate only). Many villages are planted round its base, but in front, that is, westwards, we have plains, and there the villages are as numerous: mostly they are within half a mile of each other, and few are a mile from other hamlets. Each village has a clump of trees around it: this is partly for shade and partly for privacy from motives of decency. The heat of the sun causes the effluvia to exhale quickly, so they are seldom offensive. The rest of the country, where not cultivated, is covered with grass, the seed-stalks about knee deep. It is gently undulating, lying in low waves, stretching N.E. and S.W. The space between each wave is usually occupied by a boggy spot or watercourse, which in some cases is filled with pools with trickling rills between. All the people are engaged at present in making mounds six or eight feet square, and from two to three feet high. The sods in places not before hoed are separated from the soil beneath and collected into flattened heaps, the grass undermost; when dried, fire is applied and slow combustion goes on, most of the products of the burning being retained in the ground, much of the soil is incinerated. The final preparation is effected by the men digging up the subsoil round the mound, passing each hoeful into the left hand, where it pulverizes, and is then thrown on to the heap. It is thus virgin soil on the top of the ashes and burned ground of the original heap, very clear of weeds. At present many mounds have beans and maize about four inches high. Holes, a foot in diameter and a few inches deep, are made irregularly over the surface of the mound, and about eight or ten grains put into each: these are watered by hand and calabash, and kept growing till the rains set in, when a very early crop is secured. _13th October, 1866._--After leaving Phunzé, we crossed the Leviñgé, a rivulet which flows northwards, and then into Lake Nyassa; the lines of gentle undulation tend in that direction. Some hills appear on the plains, but after the mountains which we have left behind they are mere mounds. We are over 3000 feet above the sea, and the air is delicious; but we often pass spots covered with a plant which grows in marshy places, and its heavy smell always puts me in mind that at other seasons this may not be so pleasant a residence. The fact of even maize being planted on mounds where the ground is naturally quite dry, tells a tale of abundant humidity of climate. Kauma, a fine tall man, with a bald head and pleasant manners, told us that some of his people had lately returned from the Chibisa or Babisa country, whither they had gone to buy ivory, and they would give me information about the path. He took a fancy to one of the boys' blankets; offering a native cloth, much larger, in exchange, and even a sheep to boot; but the owner being unwilling to part with his covering, Kauma told me that he had not sent for his Babisa travellers on account of my boy refusing to deal with him. A little childish this, but otherwise he was very hospitable; he gave me a fine goat, which, unfortunately, my people left behind. The chief said that no Arabs ever came his way, nor Portuguese native traders. When advising them to avoid the first attempts to begin the slave-trade, as it would inevitably lead to war and depopulation, Kauma replied that the chiefs had resolved to unite against the Waiyau of Mpondé should he come again on a foray up to the highlands; but they are like a rope of sand, there is no cohesion among them, and each village is nearly independent of every other: they mutually distrust each other. _14th October, 1866._--Spent Sunday here. Kauma says that his people are partly Kanthunda and partly Chipéta. The first are the mountaineers, the second dwellers on the plains. The Chipéta have many lines of marking: they are all only divisions of the great Manganja tribe, and their dialects differ very slightly from that spoken by the same people on the Shiré. The population is very great and very ceremonious. When we meet anyone he turns aside and sits down: we clap the hand on the chest and say, "Re peta--re peta," that is, "we pass," or "let us pass:" this is responded to at once by a clapping of the hands together. When a person is called at a distance he gives two loud claps of assent; or if he rises from near a superior he does, the same thing, which is a sort of leave-taking. We have to ask who are the principal chiefs in the direction which we wish to take, and decide accordingly. Zomba was pointed out as a chief on a range of hills on our west: beyond him lies Undi m'senga. I had to take this route, as my people have a very vivid idea of the danger of going northwards towards the Mazitu. We made more southing than we wished. One day beyond Zomba and W.S.W. is the part called Chindando, where the Portuguese formerly went for gold. They don't seem to have felt it worth while to come here, as neither ivory nor gold could be obtained if they did. The country is too full of people to allow any wild animals elbow-room: even the smaller animals are hunted down by means of nets and dogs. We rested at Pachoma; the headman offering a goat and beer, but I declined, and went on to Molomba. Here Kauma's carriers turned because a woman had died that morning as we left the village. They asserted that had she died before we started not a man would have left: this shows a reverence for death, for the woman was no relative of any of them. The headman of Molomba was very poor but very liberal, cooking for us and presenting a goat: another headman from a neighbouring village, a laughing, good-natured old man, named Chikala, brought beer and a fowl in the morning. I asked him to go on with us to Mironga, it being important, as above-mentioned, to have the like of his kind in our company, and he consented. We saw Mount Ngala in the distance, like a large sugar-loaf shot up in the air: in our former route to Kasungu we passed north of it. _16th October, 1866._--Crossed the rivulet Chikuyo going N. for the Lake, and Mironga being but one-and-a-half hour off, we went on to Chipanga: this is the proper name of what on the Zambesi is corrupted into Shupanga. The headman, a miserable hemp-consuming[31] leper, fled from us. We were offered a miserable hut, which we refused, Chikala meanwhile went through the whole village seeking a better, which we ultimately found: it was not in this chief to be generous, though Chikala did what he could in trying to indoctrinate him: when I gave him a present he immediately proposed to _sell_ a goat! We get on pretty well however. Zomha is in a range of hills to our west, called Zala nyama. The Portuguese, in going to Casembe, went still further west than this. Passing on we came to a smithy, and watched the founder at work drawing off slag from the bottom of his furnace. He broke through the hardened slag by striking it with an iron instrument inserted in the end of a pole, when the material flowed out of the small hole left for the purpose in the bottom of the furnace. The ore (probably the black oxide) was like sand, and was put in at the top of the furnace, mixed with charcoal. Only one bellows was at work, formed out of a goatskin, and the blast was very poor. Many of these furnaces, or their remains, are met with on knolls; those at work have a peculiarly tall hut built over them. On the eastern edge of a valley lying north and south, with the Diampwé stream flowing along it, and the Dzala nyama range on the western side, are two villages screened by fine specimens of the _Ficus Indica_. One of these is owned by the headman Theresa, and there we spent the night. We made very short marches, for the sun is very powerful, and the soil baked hard, is sore on the feet: no want of water, however, is felt, for we come to supplies every mile or two. The people look very poor, having few or no beads; the ornaments being lines and cuttings on the skin. They trust more to buazé than cotton. I noticed but two cotton patches. The women are decidedly plain; but monopolize all the buazé cloth. Theresa was excessively liberal, and having informed us that Zomba lived some distance up the range and was not the principal man in these parts, we, to avoid climbing the hills, turned away to the north, in the direction of the paramount chief, Chisumpi, whom we found to be only traditionally great. _20th October, 1866._--In passing along we came to a village embowered in fine trees; the headman is Kaveta, a really fine specimen of the Kanthunda, tall, well-made, with a fine forehead and Assyrian nose. He proposed to us to remain over night with him, and I unluckily declined. Convoying us out a mile, we parted with this gentleman, and then came to a smith's village, where the same invitation was given and refused. A sort of infatuation drove us on, and after a long hot march we found the great Chisumpi, the facsimile in black of Sir Colin Campbell; his nose, mouth, and the numerous wrinkles on his face were identical with those of the great General, but here all resemblance ceased. Two men had preceded us to give information, and when I followed I saw that his village was one of squalid misery, the only fine things about being the lofty trees in which it lay. Chisumpi begged me to sleep at a village about half a mile behind: his son was browbeating him on some domestic affair, and the older man implored me to go. Next morning he came early to that village, and arranged for our departure, offering nothing, and apparently not wishing to see us at all. I suspect that though paramount chief, he is weak-minded, and has lost thereby all his influence, but in the people's eyes he is still a great one. Several of my men exhibiting symptoms of distress, I inquired for a village in which we could rest Saturday and Sunday, and at a distance from Chisumpi. A headman volunteered to lead us to one west of this. In passing the sepulchral grove of Chisumpi our guide remarked, "Chisumpi's forefathers sleep there." This was the first time I have heard the word "sleep" applied to death in these parts. The trees in these groves, and around many of the villages, are very large, and show what the country would become if depopulated. We crossed the Diampwé or Adiampwé, from five to fifteen yards wide, and well supplied with water even now. It rises near the Ndomo mountains, and flows northwards into the Lintipé and Lake. We found Chitokola's village, called Paritala, a pleasant one on the east side of the Adiampwé Valley. Many elephants and other animals feed in the valley, and we saw the Bechuana Hopo[32] again after many years. The Ambarré, otherwise Nyumbo plant, has a pea-shaped, or rather papilionaceous flower, with a fine scent. It seems to grow quite wild; its flowers are yellow. Chaola is the poison used by the Maravi for their arrows, it is said to cause mortification. One of the wonders usually told of us in this upland region is that we sleep without fire. The boys' blankets suffice for warmth during the night, when the thermometer sinks to 64°-60°, but no one else has covering sufficient; some huts in process of building here show that a thick coating of plaster is put on outside the roof before the grass thatch is applied; not a chink is left for the admission of air. Ohitikola was absent from Paritala when we arrived on some _milando_ or other. These _milandos_ are the business of their lives. They are like petty lawsuits; if one trespasses on his neighbour's rights in any way it is a _milando_, and the headmen of all the villages about are called on to settle it. Women are a fruitful source of _milando_. A few ears of Indian corn had been taken by a person, and Chitikola had been called a full day's journey off to settle this _milando_. He administered _Muavé_[33] and the person vomited, therefore innocence was clearly established! He came in the evening of the 21st footsore and tired, and at once gave us some beer. This perpetual reference to food and drink is natural, inasmuch as it is the most important point in our intercourse. While the chief was absent we got nothing; the queen even begged a little meat for her child, who was recovering from an attack of small-pox. There being no shops we had to sit still without food. I took observations for longitude, and whiled away the time by calculating the lunars. Next day the chief gave us a goat cooked whole and plenty of porridge: I noticed that he too had the Assyrian type of face. FOOTNOTES: [25] Dr. Livingstone's description of the "Sponge" will stand the reader in good stead when he comes to the constant mention of these obstructions in the later travels towards the north.--ED. [26] So named when Dr. Livingstone, Dr. Kirk, and Mr. Charles Livingstone, discovered Lake Nyassa together. [27] The sheep are of the black-haired variety: their tails grow to an enormous size. A rain which came from Nunkajowa, a Waiyau chief, on a former occasion, was found to have a tail weighing 11 lbs.; but for the journey, and two or three days short commons, an extra 2 or 3 lbs. of fat «would have been on it.--ED. [28] This complaint has not been reported as an African disease before; it probably clings to the higher levels.--ED. [29] A fine fibre derived from the shoots of a shrub (_Securidaca Longipedunculata_). [30] Several superstitions of this nature seem to point to a remnant of the old heathen ritual, and the worship of gods in mountain groves. [31] Hemp = bangé is smoked throughout Central Africa, and if used in excess produces partial imbecility.--ED. [32] The Hopo is a funnel-shaped fence which encloses a considerable tract of country: a "drive" is organised, and animals of all descriptions are urged on till they become jammed together in the neck of the hopo, where they are speared to death or else destroyed in a number of pitfalls placed there for the purpose. [33] The ordeal poison. CHAPTER VI. Progress northwards. An African forest. Destruction by Mazitu. Native salutations. A disagreeable chief. On the watershed between the Lake and the Loangwa River. Extensive iron-workings. An old Nimrod. The Bua Eiver. Lovely scenery. Difficulties of transport. Chilobé. An African Pythoness. Enlists two Waiyou bearers. Ill. The Chitella bean. Rains set in. Arrives at the Loangwa. We started with Chitikola as our guide on the 22nd of October, and he led us away westwards across the Lilongwé River, then turned north till we came to a village called Mashumba, the headman of which was the only chief who begged anything except medicine, and he got less than we were in the habit of giving in consequence: we give a cloth usually, and clothing being very scarce this is considered munificent.[34] We had the Zalanyama range on our left, and our course was generally north, but we had to go in the direction of the villages which were on friendly terms with our guides, and sometimes we went but a little way, as they studied to make the days as short as possible. The headman of the last village, Chitoku, was with us, and he took us to a village of smiths, four furnaces and one smithy being at work. We crossed the Chiniambo, a strong river coming from Zalanyama and flowing into the Mirongwé, which again goes into Lintipé. The country near the hills becomes covered with forest, the trees are chiefly Masuko Mochenga (the gum-copal tree), the bark-cloth tree and rhododendrons. The heath known at the Cape as _Rhinoster bosch_ occurs frequently, and occasionally we have thorny acacias. The grass is short, but there is plenty of it. _24th October, 1866._--Our guide, Mpanda, led us through the forest by what he meant to be a short cut to Chimuna's. We came on a herd of about fifteen elephants, and many trees laid down by these animals: they seem to relish the roots of some kinds, and spend a good deal of time digging them up; they chew woody roots and branches as thick as the handle of a spade. Many buffaloes feed here, and we viewed a herd of elands; they kept out of bow-shot only: a herd of the baama or hartebeest stood at 200 paces, and one was shot. While all were rejoicing over the meat we got news, from the inhabitants of a large village in full flight, that the Mazitu were out on a foray. While roasting and eating meat I went forward with Mpanda to get men from Chimuna to carry the rest, but was soon recalled. Another crowd were also in full retreat; the people were running straight to the Zalanyama range regardless of their feet, making a path for themselves through the forest; they had escaped from the Mazitu that morning; "they saw them!" Mpanda's people wished to leave and go to look after their own village, but we persuaded them, on pain of a _milando_, to take us to the nearest village, that was at the bottom of Zalanyama proper, and we took the spoor of the fugitives. The hard grass with stalks nearly as thick as quills must have hurt their feet sorely, but what of that in comparison with dear life! We meant to take our stand on the hill and defend our property in case of the Mazitu coming near; and we should, in the event of being successful, be a defence to the fugitives who crowded up its rocky sides, but next morning we heard that the enemy had gone to the south. Had we gone forward, as we intended, to search for men to carry the meat we should have met the marauders, for the men of the second party of villagers had remained behind guarding their village till the Mazitu arrived, and they told us what a near escape I had had from walking into their power. _25th October, 1866._--Came along northwards to Chimuna's town, a large one of Chipéta with many villages around. Our path led through the forest, and as we emerged into the open strath in which the villages lie, we saw the large anthills, each the size of the end of a one-storied cottage, covered with men on guard watching for the Mazitu. A long line of villagers were just arriving from the south, and we could see at some low hills in that direction the smoke arising from the burning settlements. None but men were present, the women and the chief were at the mountain called Pambé; all were fully armed with their long bows, some flat in the bow, others round, and it was common to have the quiver on the back, and a bunch of feathers stuck in the hair like those in our Lancers' shakos. But they remained not to fight, but to watch their homes and stores of grain from robbers amongst their own people in case no Mazitu came! They gave a good hut, and sent off at once to let the chief at Pambé know of our arrival. We heard the cocks crowing up there in the mountain as we passed in the morning. Chimuna came in the evening, and begged me to remain a day in his village, Pamaloa, as he was the greatest chief the Chipéta had. I told him all wished the same thing, and if I listened to each chief we should never get on, and the rains were near, but we had to stay over with him. _26th October, 1866._--All the people came down to-day from Pambé, and crowded to see the strangers. They know very little beyond their own affairs, though these require a good deal of knowledge, and we should be sorely put about if, without their skill, we had to maintain an existence here. Their furnaces are rather bottle shaped, and about seven feet high by three broad. One toothless patriarch had heard of books and umbrellas, but had never seen either. The oldest inhabitant had never travelled far from the spot in which he was born, yet he has a good knowledge of soils and agriculture, hut-building, basket-making, pottery, and the manufacture of bark-cloth and skins for clothing, as also making of nets, traps, and cordage. Chimuna had a most ungainly countenance, yet did well enough: he was very thankful for a blister on his loins to ease rheumatic pains, and presented a huge basket of porridge before starting, with a fowl, and asked me to fire a gun that the Mazitu might hear and know that armed men were here. They all say that these marauders flee from fire-arms, so I think that they are not Zulus at all, though adopting some of their ways. In going on to Mapuio's we passed several large villages, each surrounded by the usual euphorbia hedge, and having large trees for shade. We are on & level, or rather gently amdulating country, rather bare of trees. At the junctions of these earthen waves we have always an oozing bog, this often occurs in the slope down the trough of this terrestrial sea; bushes are common, and of the kind which were cut down as trees. Yellow haematite is very abundant, but the other rocks scarcely appear in the distance; we have mountains both on the east and west. On arriving at Mapuio's village, he was, as often happens, invisible, but he sent us a calabash of fresh-made beer, which is very refreshing, gave us a hut, and promised to cook for us in the evening. We have to employ five or six carriers, and they rule the length of the day's march. Those from Chimuna's village growled at the cubit of calico with which we paid them, but a few beads pleased them perfectly, and we parted good friends. It is not likely I shall ever see them again, but I always like to please them, because it is right to consider their desires. Is that not what is meant in "Blessed is he that considereth the poor"? There is a great deal of good in these poor people. In cases of _milando_ they rely on the most distant relations and connections to plead their cause, and seldom are they disappointed, though time at certain seasons, as for instance at present, is felt by all to be precious. Every man appears with hoe or axe on shoulder, and the people often only sit down as we pass and gaze at us till we are out of sight. [Illustration: Women's Teeth hollowed.] Many of the men have large slits in the lobe of the ear, and they have their distinctive tribal tattoo. The women indulge in this painful luxury more than the men, probably because they have very few ornaments. The two central front teeth are hollowed at the cutting edge. Many have quite the Grecian facial angle. Mapuio has thin legs and quite a European face. Delicate features and limbs are common, and the spur-heel is as scarce as among Europeans; small feet and hands are the rule. Clapping the hands in various ways is the polite way of saying "Allow me," "I beg pardon," "Permit me to pass," "Thanks," it is resorted to in respectful introduction and leave-taking, and also is equivalent to "Hear hear." When inferiors are called they respond by two brisk claps of the hands, meaning "I am coming." They are very punctilious amongst each other. A large ivory bracelet marks the headman of a village; there is nothing else to show differences of rank. _28th October, 1866._--We spent Sunday at Mapuio's and had a long talk with him; his country is in a poor state from the continual incursions of the Mazitu, who are wholly unchecked. _29th October, 1866._--We marched westwards to Makosa's village, and could not go further, as the next stage is long and through an ill-peopled country. The morning was lovely, the whole country bathed in bright sunlight, and not a breath of air disturbed the smoke as it slowly curled up from the heaps of burning weeds, which the native agriculturist wisely destroys. The people generally were busy hoeing in the cool of the day. One old man in a village where we rested had trained the little hair he had left into a tail, which, well plastered with fat, he had bent on itself and laid flat on his crown; another was carefully paring a stick for stirring the porridge, and others were enjoying the cool shade of the wild fig-trees which are always planted at villages. It is a sacred tree all over Africa and India, and the tender roots which drop down towards the ground are used as medicine--a universal remedy. Can it be a tradition of its being like the tree of life, which Archbishop Whately conjectures may have been used in Paradise to render man immortal? One kind of fig-tree is often seen hacked all over to get the sap, which is used as bird-lime; bark-cloth is made of it too. I like to see the men weaving or spinning, or reclining under these glorious canopies, as much as I love to see our more civilized people lolling on their sofas or ottomans. The first rain--a thunder shower--fell in the afternoon, air in shade before it 92°; wet bulb 74°. At noon the soil in the sun was 140°, perhaps more, but I was afraid of bursting the thermometer, as it was graduated only a few degrees above that. This rain happened at the same time that the sun was directly overhead on his way south; it was but a quarter of an inch, but its effect was to deprive us of all chance of getting the five carriers we needed, all were off to their gardens to commit the precious seed to the soil. We got three, but no one else would come, so we have to remain here over to-day (30th October). _30th October, 1866._--The black traders come from Tette to this country to buy slaves, and as a consequence here we come to bugs again, which we left when we passed the Arab slave-traders' beat. _31st October, 1866._--We proceed westwards, and a little south through a country covered with forest trees, thickly planted, but small, generally of bark-cloth and gum-copal trees, masukos, rhododendrons, and a few acacias. At one place we saw ten wild hogs in a group, but no other animal, though marks of elephants, buffaloes, and other animals having been about in the wet season were very abundant. The first few miles were rather more scant of water than usual, but we came to the Leué, a fine little stream with plenty of water sand from 20 to 30 yards wide; it is said by the people to flow away westwards into the Loangwa. _1st November 1866._--In the evening we made the Chigumokiré, a nice rivulet, where we slept, and the next morning we proceeded to Kangené, whose village is situated on a mass of mountains, and to reach which we made more southing than we wished. Our appearance on the ascent of the hill caused alarm, and we were desired to wait till our spokesman had explained the unusual phenomenon of a white man. This kept us waiting in the hot sun among heated rocks, and the chief, being a great ugly public-house-keeper looking person, excused his incivility by saying that his brother had been killed by the Mazitu, and he was afraid that we were of the same tribe. On asking if Mazitu wore clothes like us he told some untruths, and, what has been an unusual thing, began to beg powder and other things. I told him how other chiefs had treated us, which made him ashamed. He represented the country in front to the N.W. to be quite impassable from want of food: the Mazitu had stripped it of all provisions, and the people were living on what wild fruits they could pick up. _2nd November, 1866._--Kangené is very disagreeable naturally, and as we have to employ five men as carriers, we are in his power. We can scarcely enter into the feelings of those who are harried by marauders. Like Scotland in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries harassed by Highland Celts on one side and by English Marchmen on the other, and thus kept in the rearward of civilisation, these people have rest neither for many days nor for few. When they fill their garners they can seldom reckon on eating the grain, for the Mazitu come when the harvest is over and catch as many able-bodied young persons as they can to carry away the corn. Thus it was in Scotland so far as security for life and property was concerned; but the Scotch were apt pupils of more fortunate nations. To change of country they were as indifferent as the Romans of the olden times; they were always welcome in France, either as pilgrims, scholars, merchants, or soldiers; but the African is different. If let alone the African's mode of life is rather enjoyable; he loves agriculture, and land is to be had anywhere. He knows nothing of other countries, but he has imbibed the idea of property in man. This Kangené told me that he would like to give me a slave to look after my goats: I believe he would rather give a slave than a goat! We were detained by the illness of Simon for four days. When he recovered we proposed to the headman to start with five of his men, and he agreed to let us have them; but having called them together such an enormous demand was made for wages, and in advance, that on the 7th of November we took seven loads forward through a level uninhabited country generally covered with small trees, slept there, and on the morning of the 8th, after leaving two men at our depôt, came back, and took the remaining five loads. Kangené was disagreeable to the last. He asked where we had gone, and, having described the turning point as near the hill Chimbimbé, he complimented us on going so far, and then sent an offer of three men; but I preferred not to have those who would have been spies unless he could give five and take on all the loads. He said that he would find the number, and after detaining us some hours brought two, one of whom, primed with beer, babbled out that he was afraid of being killed by us in front. I asked whom we had killed behind, and moved off. The headman is very childish, does women's work--cooking and pounding; and in all cases of that kind the people take after their leader. The chiefs have scarcely any power unless they are men of energy; they have to court the people rather than be courted. We came much further back on our way from Mapuio's than we liked; in fact, our course is like that of a vessel baffled with foul winds: this is mainly owing to being obliged to avoid places stripped of provisions or suffering this spoliation. The people, too, can give no information about others at a distance from their own abodes. Even the smiths, who are a most plodding set of workers, are as ignorant as the others: they supply the surrounding villages with hoes and knives, and, combining agriculture with handicraft, pass through life. An intelligent smith came as our guide from Chimbimbé Hill on the 7th, and did not know a range of mountains about twenty miles off: "it was too far off for him to know the name." _9th November, 1866._--The country over which we actually travel is level and elevated, but there are mountains all about, which when put on the map make it appear to be a mountainous region. We are on the watershed, apparently between the Loangwa of Zumbo on the west, and the Lake on the east. The Leué or Leuia is said by the people to flow into the Loangwa. The Chigumokiré coming from the north in front, eastward of Irongwé (the same mountains on which Kangené skulks out of sight of Mazitu), flows into the Leué, and north of that we have the Mando, a little stream, flowing into the Bua. The rivulets on the west flow in deep defiles, and the elevation on which we travel makes it certain that no water can come from the lower lands on the west. It seems that the Portuguese in travelling to Casembe did not inquire of the people where the streams they crossed went, for they are often wrongly put, and indicate the direction only in which they appeared to be flowing at their crossing places. The natives have a good idea generally of the rivers into which the streams flow, though they are very deficient in information as to the condition of the people that live on their banks. Some of the Portuguese questions must have been asked through slaves, who would show no hesitation in answering. Maxinga, or Machinga, means "mountains" only; once or twice it is put down Saxa de Maxinga, or Machinga, or Mcanga, which translated from the native tongue means "rocks of mountains, or mountains of rocks." _10th November, 1866._--We found the people on the Mando to be Chawa or Ajawa, but not of the Waiyau race: they are Manganja, and this is a village of smiths. We got five men readily to go back and bring up our loads; and the sound of the hammer is constant, showing a great deal of industry. They combine agriculture, and hunting with nets, with their handicraft. A herd of buffaloes came near the village, and I went and shot one, thus procuring a supply of meat for the whole party and villagers too. The hammer which we hear from dawn till sunset is a large stone, bound with the strong inner bark of a tree, and loops left which form handles. Two pieces of bark form the tongs, and a big stone sunk into the ground the anvil. They make several hoes in a day, and the metal is very good; it is all from yellow haematite, which abounds all over this part of the country; the bellows consist of two goatskins with sticks at the open ends, which are opened and shut at every blast. [Illustration: Forging Hoes.] _13th November, 1866._--A lion came last night and gave a growl or two on finding he could not get our meat: a man had lent us a hunting net to protect it and us from intruders of this sort. The people kept up a shouting for hours afterwards, in order to keep him away by the human voice. We might have gone on, but I had a galled heel from new shoes. Wild figs are rather nice when quite ripe. _14th November, 1866._--We marched northwards round the end of Chisia Hill, and remained for the night at a blacksmith's, or rather founder's village; the two occupations of founder and smith are always united, and boys taught to be smiths in Europe or India would find themselves useless if unable to smelt the ore. A good portion of the trees of the country have been cut down for charcoal, and those which now spring up are small; certain fruit trees alone are left. The long slopes on the undulating country, clothed with fresh foliage, look very beautiful. The young trees alternate with patches of yellow grass not yet burned; the hills are covered with a thick mantle of small green trees with, as usual, large ones at intervals. The people at Kalumbi, on the Mando (where we spent four days), had once a stockade of wild fig _(Ficus Indica)_ and euphorbia round their village, which has a running rill on each side of it; but the trees which enabled them to withstand a siege by Mazitu fell before elephants and buffaloes during a temporary absence of the villagers; the remains of the stockade are all around it yet. Lions sometimes enter huts by breaking through the roof: elephants certainly do, for we saw a roof destroyed by one; the only chance for the inmates is to drive a spear into the belly of the beast while so engaged. A man came and reported the Mazitu to be at Chanyandula's village, where we are going. The headman advised remaining at his village till we saw whether they came this way or went by another path. The women were sent away, but the men went on with their employments; two proceeded with the building of a furnace on an anthill, where they are almost always placed, and they keep a look-out while working. We have the protection of an all-embracing Providence, and trust that He, whose care of His people «xceeds all that our utmost self-love can attain, will shield us and make our way prosperous. _16th November, 1866._--An elephant came near enough last night to scream at us, but passed on, warned, perhaps, by the shouting of the villagers not to meddle with man. No Mazitu having come, we marched on and crossed the Bua, eight yards wide and knee deep. It rises in the northern hills a little beyond Kanyindula's village, winds round his mountains, and away to the east. The scenery among the mountains is very lovely: they are covered with a close mantle of green, with here and there red and light-coloured patches, showing where grass has been burned off recently and the red clay soil is exposed; the lighter portions are unburned grass or rocks. Large trees are here more numerous, and give an agreeable change of contour to the valleys and ridges of the hills; the boughs of many still retain a tinge of red from young leaves. We came to the Bua again before reaching Kanyenjé, as Kanyindula's place is called. The iron trade must have been carried on for an immense time in the country, for one cannot go a quarter of a mile without meeting pieces of slag and broken pots, calcined pipes, and fragments of the furnaces, which are converted by the fire into brick. It is curious that the large stone sledge-hammers now in use are not called by the name stone-hammers, but by a distinct word, "kama:" nyundo is one made of iron. When we arrived at Kanyenjé, Kanyindula was out collecting charcoal. He sent a party of men to ask if we should remain next day: an old, unintellectual-looking man was among the number sent, who had twenty-seven rings of elephant's skin on his arm, all killed by himself by the spear alone: he had given up fighting elephants since the Mazitu came, whom we heard had passed away to the south-east of this place, taking all the crops of last year, and the chief alone has food. He gave us some, which was very acceptable, as we got none at the two villages south of this. Kanyindula came himself in the evening, an active, stern-looking man, but we got on very well with him. The people say that they were taught to smelt iron by Chisumpi, which is the name of Mulungu (God), and that they came from Lake Nyassa originally; if so, they are greatly inferior to the Manganja on the Lake in pottery, for the fragments, as well as modern whole vessels, are very coarse; the ornamentation is omitted or merely dots. They never heard of aërolites, but know hail. I notice here that the tree Mfu, or Mö, having sweet-scented leaves, yields an edible plum in clusters. Bua-bwa is another edible fruit-tree with palmated leaves. Mbéu is a climbing, arboraceous plant, and yields a very pleasant fruit, which tastes like gooseberries: its seeds are very minute. _18th and 19th November, 1866._--Rain fell heavily yesterday afternoon, and was very threatening to-day; we remain to sew a calico tent. _20th November, 1866._--Kanyindula came with three carriers this morning instead of five, and joined them in demanding prepayment: it was natural for him to side with them, as they have more power than he has, in fact, the chiefs in these parts all court their people, and he could feel more interest in them than in an entire stranger whom he might never see again: however, we came on without his people, leaving two to guard the loads. About four miles up the valley we came to a village named Kanyenjeré Mponda, at the fountain-eye of the Bua, and thence sent men back for the loads, while we had the shelter of good huts during a heavy thunder-shower, and made us willing to remain all night. The valley is lovely in the extreme. The mountains on each side are gently rounded, and, as usual, covered over with tree foliage, except where the red soil is exposed by recent grass-burnings. Quartz rocks jut out, and much drift of that material has been carried down by the gullies into the bottom. These gullies being in compact clay, the water has but little power of erosion, so they are worn deep but narrow. Some fragments of titaniferous iron ore, with haematite changed by heat, and magnetic, lay in the gully, which had worn itself a channel on the north side of the village. The Bua, like most African streams whose sources I have seen, rises in an oozing boggy spot. Another stream, the Tembwé, rises near the same spot, and flows N.W. into, the Loangwa. We saw Shuaré palms in its bed. _21st November, 1866._--We left Bua fountain, lat. 13° 40' south, and made a short march to Mokatoba, a stockaded village, where the people refused to admit us till the headman, came. They have a little food here, and sold us some. We have been on rather short commons for some time, and this made our detention agreeable. We rose a little in altitude after leaving this morning, then, though in the same valley, made a little descent towards the N.N.W. High winds came driving over the eastern range, which is called Mchinjé, and bring large masses of clouds, which are the rain-givers. They seem to come from the south-east. The scenery of the valley is lovely and rich in the extreme. All the foliage is fresh washed and clean; young herbage is bursting through the ground; the air is deliciously cool, and the birds are singing joyfully: one, called Mzié, is a good songster, with a loud melodious voice. Large game abounds, but we do not meet with it. We are making our way slowly to the north, where food is said to be abundant. I divided about 50 lbs. of powder among the people of my following to shoot with, and buy goats or other food as we could. This reduces our extra loads to three--four just now, Simon being sick again. He rubbed goat's-fat on a blistered surface, and caused an eruption of pimples. _Mem._--The people assent by lifting up the head instead of nodding it down as we do; deaf mutes are said to do the same. _22nd November, 1866._--Leaving Mokatoba village, and proceeding down the valley, which on the north is shut up apparently by a mountain called Kokwé, we crossed the Kasamba, about two miles from Mokatoba, and yet found it, though so near its source, four yards wide, and knee deep. Its source is about a mile above Mokatoba, in the same valley, with the Bua and Tembwé. We were told that elephants were near, and we saw where they had been an hour before; but after seeking about could not find them. An old man, in the deep defile between Kokwé and Yasika Mountains, pointed to the latter, and said, "Elephants! why, there they are. Elephants, or tusks, walking on foot are never absent;" but though we were eager for flesh, we could not give him credit, and went down the defile which gives rise to the Sandili River: where we crossed it in the defile, it was a mere rill, having large trees along its banks, yet it is said to go to the Loangwa of Zumbo, N.W. or N.N.W. We were now in fact upon the slope which inclines to that river, and made a rapid descent in altitude. We reached Silubi's village, on the base of a rocky detached hill. No food to be had; all taken by Mazitu, so Silubi gave me some Masuko fruit instead. They find that they can keep the Mazitu off by going up a rocky eminence, and hurling stones and arrows down on the invaders: they can defend themselves also by stockades, and these are becoming very general. On leaving Silubi's village, we went to a range of hills, and after passing through found that we had a comparatively level country on the north: it would be called a well-wooded country if we looked at it only from a distance. It is formed into long ridges, all green and wooded; but clumps of large trees, where villages have been, or are still situated, show that the sylvan foliage around and over the whole country is that of mere hop-poles. The whole of this upland region might be called woody, if we bear in mind that where the population is dense, and has been long undisturbed, the trees are cut down to the size of low bush. Large districts are kept to about the size of hop-poles, growing on pollards three or four feet from the ground, by charcoal burners, who, in all instances, are smiths too. On reaching Zeoré's village, on the Lokuzhwa, we found it stockaded, and stagnant pools round three sides of it. The Mazitu had come, pillaged all the surrounding villages, looked at this, and then went away; so the people had food to sell. They here call themselves Echéwa, and have a different marking from the Atumboka. The men have the hair dressed as if a number of the hairs of elephants' tails were stuck around the head: the women wear a small lip-ring, and a straw or piece of stick in the lower lip, which dangles down about level with the lower edge of the chin: their clothing in front is very scanty. The men know nothing of distant places, the Manganja being a very stay-at-home people. The stockades are crowded with huts, and the children have but small room to play in the narrow spaces between. _25th November, 1866._--Sunday at Zeoré's. The villagers thought we prayed for rain, which was much needed. The cracks in the soil have not yet come together by the «welling of soil produced by moisture. I disabused their minds about rain-making prayers, and found the headman intelligent. I did not intend to notice the Lokuzhwa, it is such a contemptible little rill, and not at present running; but in going to our next point, Mpandé's village, we go along its valley, and cross it several times, as it makes for the Loangwa in the north. The valley is of rich dark red loam, and so many lilies of the Amaryllis kind have established themselves as completely to mask the colour of the soil. They form a covering of pure white where the land has been cleared by the hoe. As we go along this valley to the Loangwa, we descend in altitude. It is said to rise at "Nombé rumé," as we formerly heard. _27th November, 1866._--Zeoré's people would not carry without prepayment, so we left our extra loads as usual and went on, sending men back for them: these, however, did not come till 27th, and then two of my men got fever. I groan in spirit, and do not know how to make our gear into nine loads only. It is the knowledge that we shall be detained, some two or three months during the heavy rains that makes me cleave to it as means of support. Advantage has been taken by the people, of spots where the Lokuzhwa goes round three parts of a circle, to erect their stockaded villages. This is the case here, and the water, being stagnant, engenders disease. The country abounds in a fine light blue flowering perennial pea, which the people make use of as a relish. At present the blossoms only are collected and boiled. On inquiring the name, _chilóbé_, the men asked me if we had none in our country. On replying in the negative, they looked with pity on us: "What a wretched, country not to have chilóbé." It is on the highlands above; we never saw it elsewhere! Another species of pea _(Chilobé Weza)_, with reddish flowers, is eaten in the same way; but it has spread but little in comparison. It is worth remarking that porridge of maize or sorghum is never offered without some pulse, beans, or bean leaves, or flowers, they seem to feel the need of it, or of pulse, which is richer in flesh-formers than the porridge. Last night a loud clapping of hands by the men was followed by several half-suppressed screams by a woman. They were quite _eldritch_, as if she could not get them out. Then succeeded a lot of utterances as if she were in ecstasy, to which a man responded, "Moio, moio." The utterances, so far as I could catch, were in five-syllable snatches--abrupt and laboured. I wonder if this "bubbling or boiling over" has been preserved as the form in which the true prophets of old gave forth their "burdens"? One sentence, frequently repeated towards the close of the effusion, was "_linyama uta_," "flesh of the bow," showing that the Pythoness loved venison killed by the bow. The people applauded, and attended, hoping, I suppose, that rain would follow her efforts. Next day she was duly honoured by drumming and dancing.[35] Prevalent beliefs seem to be persistent in certain tribes. That strange idea of property in man that permits him to be sold to another is among the Arabs, Manganja, Makoa, Waiyau, but not among Kaffirs or Zulus, and Bechuanas. If we exclude the Arabs, two families of Africans alone are slavers on the east side of the Continent. _30th November, 1866._--We march to Chilunda's or Embora's, still on the Lokuzhwa, now a sand-stream about twenty yards wide, with pools in its bed; its course is pretty much north or N.N.W. We are now near the Loangwa country, covered with a dense dwarf forest, and the people collected in stockades. This village is on a tongue of land (between Lokuzhwa and another sluggish rivulet), chosen for its strength. It is close to a hill named Chipemba, and there are ranges of hills both east and west in the distance. Embora came to visit us soon after we arrived--a tall man with a Yankee face. He was very much tickled when asked if he were a Motumboka. After indulging in laughter at the idea of being one of such a small tribe of Manganja, he said proudly, "That he belonged to the Echéwa, who inhabited all the country to which I was going." They are generally smiths; a mass of iron had just been brought in to him from some outlying furnaces. It is made into hoes, which are sold for native cloths down the Loangwa. _3rd December, 1866._--March through a hilly country covered with dwarf forest to Kandé's village, still on the Lokuzhwa. We made some westing. The village was surrounded by a dense hedge of bamboo and a species of bushy fig that loves edges of water-bearing streams: it is not found where the moisture is not perennial. Kandé is a fine tall smith; I asked him if he knew his antecedents; he said he had been bought by Babisa at Chipéta, and left at Chilunda's, and therefore belonged to no one. Two Waiyau now volunteered to go on with us, and as they declared their masters were killed by the Mazitu, and Kandé seemed to confirm them, we let them join. In general, runaway slaves are bad characters, but these two seem good men, and we want them to fill up our complement: another volunteer we employ as goatherd. A continuous tap-tapping in the villages shows that bark cloth is being made. The bark, on being removed from the-tree, is steeped in water, or in a black muddy hole, till the outer of the two inner barks can be separated, then commences the tapping with a mallet to separate and soften the fibres. The head of this is often of ebony, with the face cut into small furrows, which, without breaking, separate and soften the fibres. [Illustration.] _4th December, 1866._--Marched westwards, over a hilly, dwarf forest-covered country: as we advanced, trees increased in size, but no people inhabited it; we spent a miserable night at Katétté, wetted by a heavy thunder-shower, which lasted a good while. Morning _(5th December_) muggy, clouded all over, and rolling thunder in distance. Went three hours with, for a wonder, no water, but made westing chiefly, and got on to the Lokuzhwa again: all the people are collected on it. _6th December, 1866._--Too ill to march. _7th December, 1866._--Went on, and passed Mesumbé's village, also protected by bamboos, and came to the hill Mparawé, with a village perched on its northern base and well up its sides. The Babisa have begun to imitate the Mazitu by attacking and plundering Manganja villages. Muasi's brother was so attacked, and now is here and eager to attack in return. In various villages we have observed miniature huts, about two feet high, very neatly thatched and plastered, here we noticed them in dozens. On inquiring, we were told that when a child or relative dies one is made, and when any pleasant food is cooked or beer brewed, a little is placed in the tiny hut for the departed soul, which is believed to enjoy it. The Lokuzhwa is here some fifty yards wide, and running. Numerous large pitholes in the fine-grained schist in its bed show that much water has flowed in it. _8th December, 1866._--A kind of bean called "chitetta" is eaten here, it is an old acquaintance in the Bechuana country, where it is called "mositsané," and is a mere plant; here it becomes a tree, from fifteen to twenty feet high. The root is used for tanning; the bean is pounded, and then put into a sieve of bark cloth to extract, by repeated washings, the excessively astringent matter it contains. Where the people have plenty of water, as here, it is used copiously in various processes, among Bechuanas it is scarce, and its many uses unknown: the pod becomes from fifteen to eighteen inches long, and an inch in diameter. _9th December, 1866._--A poor child, whose mother had died, was unprovided for; no one not a relative will nurse another's child. It called out piteously for its mother by name, and the women (like the servants in the case of the poet Cowper when a child), said, "She is coming." I gave it a piece of bread, but it was too far gone, and is dead to-day. An alarm of Mazitu sent all the villagers up the sides of Mparawé this morning. The affair was a chase of a hyaena, but everything is Mazitu! The Babisa came here, but were surrounded and nearly all cut off. Muasi was so eager to be off with a party to return the attack on the Mazitu, that, when deputed by the headman to give us a guide, he got the man to turn at the first village, so we had to go on without guides, and made about due north. _11th December, 1866._--We are now detained in the forest, at a place called Chondé Forest, by set-in rains. It rains every day, and generally in the afternoon; but the country is not wetted till the "set-in" rains commence; the cracks in the soil then fill up and everything rushes up with astonishing rapidity; the grass is quite crisp and soft. After the fine-grained schist, we came on granite with large flakes of talc in it. This forest is of good-sized trees, many of them mopané. The birds now make much melody and noise--all intent on building. _12th December, 1866._--Across an undulating forest country north we got a man to show us the way, if a pathless forest can so be called. We used a game-path as long as it ran north, but left it when it deviated, and rested under a baobab-tree with a marabou's nest--a bundle of sticks on a branch; the young ones uttered a hard chuck, chuck, when the old ones flew over them. A sun-bird, with bright scarlet throat and breast, had its nest on another branch, it was formed like the weaver's nest, but without a tube. I observed the dam picking out insects from the bark and leaves of the baobab, keeping on the wing the while: it would thus appear to be insectivorous as well as a honey-bibber. Much spoor of elands, zebras, gnus, kamas, pallahs, buffaloes, reed-bucks, with tsetse, their parasites. _13th December, 1866._--Reached the Tokosusi, which is said to rise at Nombé Rumé, about twenty yards wide and knee deep, swollen by the rains: it had left a cake of black tenacious mud on its banks. Here I got a pallah antelope, and a very strange flower called "katendé," which was a whorl of seventy-two flowers sprung from a flat, round root; but it cannot be described. Our guide would have crossed the Tokosusi, which was running north-west to join the Loangwa, and then gone to that river; but always when we have any difficulty the "lazies" exhibit themselves. We had no grain; and three remained behind spending four hours at what we did in an hour and a quarter. Our guide became tired and turned, not before securing another; but he would not go over the Loangwa; no one likes to go out of his own country: he would go westwards to Maranda's, and nowhere else. A "set-in" rain came on after dark, and we went on through slush, the trees sending down heavier drops than the showers as we neared the Loangwa; we forded several deep gullies, all flowing north or north-west into it. The paths were running with water, and when we emerged from the large Mopané Forest, we came on the plain of excessively adhesive mud, on which Maranda's stronghold stands on the left bank of Loangwa, here a good-sized river. The people were all afraid of us, and we were mortified to find that food is scarce. The Mazitu have been here three times, and the fear they have inspired, though they were successfully repelled, has prevented agricultural operations from being carried on. _Mem._--A flake of reed is often used in surgical operations among the natives, as being sharper than their knives. FOOTNOTES: [34] A cloth means two yards of unbleached calico. [35] Chuma remembers part of the words of her song to be as follows:-- Kowé! kowé! n'andambwi, M'vula léru, korolé ko okwé, Waie, ona, kordi, mvula! He cannot translate it as it is pure Manganja, but with the exception of the first line--which relates to a little song-bird with a beautiful note, it is a mere reiteration "rain will surely come to-day."--ED. CHAPTER VII. Crosses the Loangwa. Distressing march. The king-hunter. Great hunger. Christmas feast necessarily postponed. Loss of goats. Honey-hunters. A meal at last. The Babisa. The Mazitu again. Chitembo's. End of 1866. The new year. The northern brim of the great Loangwa Valley. Accident to chronometers. Meal gives out. Escape from a Cobra capella. Pushes for the Chambezé. Death of Chitané. Great pinch for food. Disastrous loss of medicine chest. Bead currency. Babisa. The Chambezé. Beaches Chitapangwa's town. Meets Arab traders from Zanzibar. Sends off letters. Chitapangwa and his people. Complications. _16th December, 1866._--We could get no food at any price on 15th, so we crossed the Loangwa, and judged it to be from seventy to a hundred yards wide: it is deep at present, and it must always be so, for some Atumboka submitted to the Mazitu, and ferried them over and back again. The river is said to rise in the north; it has alluvial banks with large forest trees along them, bottom sandy, and great sandbanks are in it like the Zambesi. No guide would come, so we went on without one. The "lazies" of the party seized the opportunity of remaining behind--wandering, as they said, though all the cross paths were marked.[36] This evening we secured the latitude 12° 40' 48" S., which would make our crossing place about 12° 45' S. Clouds prevented observations, as they usually do in the rainy season. _17 December, 1866._--We went on through a bushy country without paths, and struck the Pamazi, a river of sixty yards wide, in steep banks and in flood, and held on as well as we could through a very difficult country, the river forcing us north-west: I heard hippopotami in it. Game is abundant but wild; we shot two poku antelopes[37] here, called "tsébulas," which drew a hunter to us, who consented for meat and pay to show us a ford. He said that the Pamazi rises in a range of mountains we can now see (in general we could see no high ground during our marches for the last fortnight), we forded it, thigh deep on one side and breast deep on the other. We made only about three miles of northing, and found the people on the left bank uncivil: they would not lend a hut, so we soon put up a tent of waterproof cloth and branches. _18th December, 1866._--As the men grumbled at their feet being pierced by thorns in the trackless portions we had passed I was anxious to get a guide, but the only one we could secure would go to Molenga's only; so I submitted, though this led us east instead of north. When we arrived we were asked what we wanted, seeing we brought neither slaves nor ivory: I replied it was much against our will that we came; but the guide had declared that this was the only way to Casembe's, our next stage. To get rid of us they gave a guide, and we set forward northwards. The Mopané Forest is perfectly level, and after rains the water stands in pools; but during most of the year it is dry. The trees here were very large, and planted some twenty or thirty yards apart: as there are no branches on their lower parts animals see very far. I shot a gnu, but wandered in coming back to the party, and did not find them till it was getting dark. Many parts of the plain are thrown up into heaps, of about the size of one's cap (probably by crabs), which now, being hard, are difficult to walk over; under the trees it is perfectly smooth. The Mopané-tree furnishes the iron wood of the Portuguese Pao Ferro: it is pretty to travel in and look at the bright sunshine of early morning; but the leaves hang perpendicularly as the sun rises high, and afford little or no shade through the day,[38] so as the land is clayey, it becomes hard-baked thereby. We observed that the people had placed corn-granaries at different parts of this forest, and had been careful to leave no track to them--a provision in case of further visits of Mazitu. King-hunters[39] abound, and make the air resound with their stridulous notes, which commence with a sharp, shrill cheep, and then follows a succession of notes, which resembles a pea in a whistle. Another bird is particularly conspicuous at present by its chattering activity, its nest consists of a bundle of fine seed-stalks of grass hung at the end of a branch, the free ends being left untrimmed, and no attempt at concealment made. Many other birds are now active, and so many new notes are heard, that it is probable this is a richer ornithological region than the Zambesi. Guinea-fowl and francolins are in abundance, and so indeed are all the other kinds of game, as zebras, pallahs, gnus. _19th December, 1866._--I got a fine male kudu. We have no grain, and live on meat alone, but I am better off than the men, inasmuch as I get a little goat's-milk besides. The kudu stood five feet six inches high; horns, three feet on the straight. _20th December, 1866._--Reached Casembe,[40] a miserable hamlet of a few huts. The people here are very suspicious, and will do nothing but with a haggle for prepayment; we could get no grain, nor even native herbs, though we rested a day to try. After a short march we came to the Nyamazi, another considerable rivulet coming from the north to fall into the Loangwa. It has the same character, of steep alluvial banks, as Pamazi, and about the same width, but much shallower; loin deep, though somewhat swollen; from fifty to sixty yards wide. We came to some low hills, of coarse sandstone, and on crossing these we could see, by looking back, that for many days we had been travelling over a perfectly level valley, clothed with a mantle of forest. The barometers had shown no difference of level from about 1800 feet above the sea. We began our descent into this great valley when we left the source of the Bua; and now these low hills, called Ngalé or Ngaloa, though only 100 feet or so above the level we had left, showed that we had come to the shore of an ancient lake, which probably was let off when the rent of Kebra-basa on the Zambesi was made, for we found immense banks of well-rounded shingle above--or, rather, they may be called mounds of shingle--all of hard silicious schist with a few pieces of fossil-wood among them. The gullies reveal a stratum of this well-rounded shingle, lying on a soft greenish sandstone, which again lies on the coarse sandstone first observed. This formation is identical with that observed formerly below the Victoria Falls. We have the mountains still on our north and north-west (the so-called mountains of Bisa, or Babisa), and from them the Nyamazi flows, while Pamazi comes round the end, or what appears to be the end, of the higher portion. _(22nd December, 1866.)_ Shot a bush-buck; and slept on the left bank of Nyamazi. _23rd December, 1866._--Hunger sent us on; for a meat diet is far from satisfying: we all felt very weak on it, and soon tired on a march, but to-day we hurried on to Kavimba, who successfully beat off the Mazitu. It is very hot, and between three and four hours is a good day's march. On sitting down to rest before entering the village we were observed, and all the force of the village issued to kill us as Mazitu, but when we stood up the mistake was readily perceived, and the arrows were placed again in their quivers. In the hut four Mazitu shields show that they did not get it all their own way; they are miserable imitations of Zulu shields, made of eland and water-buck's hides, and ill sewn. A very small return present was made by Kavimba, and nothing could be bought except at exorbitant prices. We remained all day on the 24th haggling and trying to get some grain. He took a fancy to a shirt, and left it to his wife to bargain for. She got the length of cursing and swearing, and we bore it, but could get only a small price for it. We resolved to hold our Christmas some other day, and in a better place. The women seem ill-regulated here--Kavimba's brother had words with his spouse, and at the end of every burst of vociferation on both sides called out, "Bring the Muavi! bring the Muavi!" or ordeal. _Christmas-day, 1866._--No one being willing to guide us to Moerwa's, I hinted to Kavimba that should we see a rhinoceros I would kill it. He came himself, and led us on where he expected to find these animals, but we saw only their footsteps. We lost our four goats somewhere--stolen or strayed in the pathless forest, we do not know which, but the loss I felt very keenly, for whatever kind of food we had, a little milk made all right, and I felt strong and well, but coarse food hard of digestion without it was very trying. We spent the 26th in searching for them, but all in vain. Kavimba had a boy carrying two huge elephant spears, with these he attacks that large animal single-handed. We parted from him, as I thought, good friends, but a man who volunteered to act as guide saw him in the forest afterwards, and was counselled by him to leave us as we should not pay him. This hovering near us after we parted makes me suspect Kavimba of taking the goats, but I am not certain. The loss affected me more than I could have imagined. A little indigestible porridge, of scarcely any taste, is now my fare, and it makes me dream of better. _27th December, 1866._--Our guide asked for his cloth to wear on the way, as it was wet and raining, and his bark cloth was a miserable covering. I consented, and he bolted on the first opportunity; the forest being so dense he was soon out of reach of pursuit: he had been advised to this by Kavimba, and nothing else need have been expected. We then followed the track of a travelling party of Babisa, but the grass springs up over the paths, and it was soon lost: the rain had fallen early in these parts, and the grass was all in seed. In the afternoon we came to the hills in the north where Nyamazi rises, and went up the bed of a rivulet for some time, and then ascended out of the valley. At the bottom of the ascent and in the rivulet the shingle stratum was sometimes fifty feet thick, then as we ascended we met mica schist tilted on edge, then grey gneiss, and last an igneous trap among quartz rocks, with a great deal of bright mica and talc in them. On resting near the top of the first ascent two honey hunters came to us. They were using the honey-guide as an aid, the bird came to us as they arrived, waited quietly during the half-hour they smoked and chatted, and then went on with them.[41] The tsetse flies, which were very numerous at the bottom, came up the ascent with us, but as we increased our altitude by another thousand feet they gradually dropped off and left us: only one remained in the evening, and he seemed out of spirits. Near sunset we encamped by water on the cool height, and made our shelters with boughs of leafy trees; mine was rendered perfect by Dr. Stenhouse's invaluable patent cloth, which is very superior to mackintosh: indeed the india-rubber cloth is not to be named in the same day with it. _28th December, 1866._--Three men, going to hunt bees, came to us as we were starting and assured us that Moerwa's was near. The first party had told us the same thing, and so often have we gone long distances as "_pafupi_" (near), when in reality they were "_patari_" (far), that we begin to think _pafupi_ means "I wish you to go there," and _patari_ the reverse. In this case _near_ meant an hour and three-quarters from our sleeping-place to Moerwa's! When we look back from the height to which we have ascended we see a great plain clothed with dark green forest except at the line of yellowish grass, where probably the Loangwa flows. On the east and south-east this plain is bounded at the extreme range of our vision by a wall of dim blue mountains forty or fifty miles off. The Loangwa is said to rise in the Chibalé country due north of this Malambwé (in which district Moerwa's village is situated), and to flow S.E., then round to where we found it. Moerwa came to visit me in my hut, a rather stupid man, though he has a well-shaped and well-developed forehead, and tried the usual little arts of getting us to buy all we need here though the prices are exorbitant. "No people in front, great hunger there." "We must buy food here and carry it to support us." On asking the names of the next headman he would not inform me, till I told him to try and speak like a man; he then told us that the first Lobemba chief was Motuna, and the next Chafunga. We have nothing, as we saw no animals in our way hither, and hunger is ill to bear. By giving Moerwa a good large cloth he was induced to cook a mess of maëre or millet and elephant's stomach; it was so good to get a full meal that I could have given him another cloth, and the more so as it was accompanied by a message that he would cook more next day and in larger quantity. On inquiring next evening he said "the man had told lies," he had cooked nothing more: he was prone to lie himself, and was a rather bad specimen of a chief. The Babisa have round bullet heads, snub noses, often high cheek-bones, an upward slant of the eyes, and look as if they had a lot of Bushman blood in them, and a good many would pass for Bushmen or Hottentots. Both Babisa and Waiyau may have a mixture of the race, which would account for their roving habits. The women have the fashion of exposing the upper part of the buttocks by letting a very stiff cloth fall down behind. Their teeth are filed to points, they wear no lip-ring, and the hair is parted so as to lie in a net at the back part of the head. The mode of salutation among the men is to lie down nearly on the back, clapping the hands, and making a rather inelegant half-kissing sound with the lips. _29th December, 1866._--We remain a day at Malambwé, but get nothing save a little maëre,[42] which grates in the teeth and in the stomach. To prevent the Mazitu starving them they cultivate small round patches placed at wide intervals in the forest, with which the country is covered. The spot, some ten yards or a little more in diameter, is manured with ashes and planted with this millet and pumpkins, in order that should Mazitu come they may be unable to carry off the pumpkins, or gather the millet, the seed of which is very small. They have no more valour than the other Africans, but more craft, and are much given to falsehood. They will not answer common questions except by misstatements, but this may arise in our case from our being in disfavour, because we will not sell all our goods to them for ivory. _30th December, 1866._--Marched for Chitemba's, because it is said he has not fled from the Mazitu, and therefore has food to spare. While resting, Moerwa, with all his force of men, women, and dogs, came up, on his way to hunt elephants. The men were furnished with big spears, and their dogs are used to engage the animal's attention while they spear it; the women cook the meat and make huts, and a smith goes with them to mend any spear that may be broken. We pass over level plateaux on which the roads are wisely placed, and do not feel that we are travelling in a mountainous region. It is all covered with dense forest, which in many cases is pollarded, from being cut for bark cloth or for hunting purposes. Masuko fruit abounds. From the cisalpinae and gum-copal trees bark cloth is made. We now come to large masses of haematite, which is often ferruginous: there is conglomerate too, many quartz pebbles being intermixed. It seems as if when the lakes existed in the lower lands, the higher levels gave forth great quantities of water from chalybeate fountains, which deposited this iron ore. Grey granite or quartz with talc in it or gneiss lie under the haematite. The forest resounds with singing birds, intent on nidification. Francolins abound, but are wild. "Whip-poor-wills," and another bird, which has a more laboured treble note and voice--"Oh, oh, oh!" Gay flowers blush unseen, but the people have a good idea of what is eatable and what not. I looked at a woman's basket of leaves which she had collected for supper, and it contained eight or ten kinds, with mushrooms and orchidaceous flowers. We have a succession of showers to-day, from N.E. and E.N.E. We are uncertain when we shall come to a village, as the Babisa will not tell us where they are situated. In the evening we encamped beside a little rill, and made our shelters, but we had so little to eat that I dreamed the night long of dinners I had eaten, and might have been eating. I shall make this beautiful land better known, which is an essential part of the process by which it will become the "pleasant haunts of men." It is impossible to describe its rich luxuriance, but most of it is running to waste through the slave-trade and internal wars. _31st December, 1866._--When we started this morning after rain, all the trees and grass dripping, a lion roared, but we did not see him. A woman had come a long way and built a neat miniature hut in the burnt-out ruins of her mother's house: the food-offering she placed in it, and the act of filial piety, no doubt comforted this poor mourner's heart! We arrived at Chitembo's village and found it deserted. The Babisa dismantle their huts and carry off the thatch to their gardens, where they live till harvest is over. This fallowing of the framework destroys many insects, but we observed that wherever Babisa and Arab slavers go they leave the breed of the domestic bug: it would be well if that were all the ill they did! Chitembo was working in his garden when we arrived, but soon came, and gave us the choice of all the standing huts: he is an old man, much more frank and truthful than our last headman, and says that Chitapanga is paramount chief of all the Abemba. Three or four women whom we saw performing a rain dance at Moerwa's were here doing the same; their faces smeared with meal, and axes in their hands, imitating as well as they could the male voice. I got some maëre or millet here and a fowl. We now end 1866. It has not been so fruitful or useful as I intended. Will try to do better in 1867, and be better--more gentle and loving; and may the Almighty, to whom I commit my way, bring my desires to pass, and prosper me! Let all the sins of '66 be blotted out for Jesus' sake. * * * * * _1st January, 1867._--May He who was full of grace and truth impress His character on mine. Grace--eagerness to show favour; truth--truthfulness, sincerity, honour--for His mercy's sake. We remain to-day at Mbulukuta-Chitembo's district, by the boys' desire, because it is New Year's day, and also because we can get some food. _2nd and 3rd January, 1867._--Remain on account of a threatened _set-in_ rain. Bought a senzé _(Aulocaudatus Swindernianus)_, a rat-looking animal; but I was glad to get anything in the shape of meat. _4th January, 1867._--It is a _set-in_ rain. The boiling-point thermometer shows an altitude of 3565 feet above the sea. Barometer, 3983 feet ditto. We get a little maëre here, and prefer it to being drenched and our goods spoiled. We have neither sugar nor salt, so there are no soluble goods; but cloth and gunpowder get damaged easily. It is hard fare and scanty; I feel always hungry, and am constantly dreaming of better food when I should be sleeping. Savoury viands of former times come vividly up before the imagination, even in my waking hours; this is rather odd as I am not a dreamer; indeed I scarcely ever dream but when I am going to be ill or actually so.[43] We are on the northern brim (or north-western rather) of the great Loangwa Valley we lately crossed: the rain coming from the east strikes it, and is deposited both above and below, while much of the valley itself is not yet well wetted. Here all the grasses have run up to seed, and yet they are not more than two feet or so in the seed-stalks. The pasturage is very fine. The people employ these continuous or _set-in_ rains for hunting the elephant, which gets bogged, and sinks in from fifteen to eighteen inches in soft mud, then even he, the strong one, feels it difficult to escape.[44] _5th January, 1867._--Still storm-stayed. We shall be off as soon as we get a fair day and these heavy rains cease. _6th January, 1867._--After service two men came and said that they were going to Lobemba, and would guide us to Motuna's village; another came a day or two ago, but he had such a villainous look we all shrank from him. These men's faces pleased us, but they did not turn out all we expected, for they guided us away westwards without a path: it was a drizzling rain, and this made us averse to striking off in the forest without them. No inhabitants now except at wide intervals, and no animals either. In the afternoon we came to a deep ravine full of gigantic timber trees and bamboos, with the Mavoché River at the bottom. The dampness had caused the growth of lichens all over the trees, and the steep descent was so slippery that two boys fell, and he who carried the chronometers, twice: this was a misfortune, as it altered the rates, as was seen by the first comparison of them together in the evening. No food at Motuna's village, yet the headman tried to extort two fathoms of calico on the ground that he was owner of the country: we offered to go out of his village and make our own sheds on "God's land," that is, where it is uncultivated, rather than have any words about it: he then begged us to stay. A very high mountain called Chikokwé appeared W.S.W. from this village; the people who live on it are called Matumba; this part is named Lokumbi, but whatever the name, all the people are Babisa, the dependants of the Babemba, reduced by their own slaving habits to a miserable jungly state. They feed much on wild fruits, roots, and leaves; and yet are generally plump. They use a wooden hoe for sowing their maëre, it is a sort of V-shaped implement, made from a branch with another springing out of it, about an inch in diameter at the sharp point, and with it they claw the soil after scattering the seed; about a dozen young men were so employed in the usual small patches as we passed in the morning. The country now exhibits the extreme of leafiness and the undulations are masses of green leaves; as far as the eye can reach with distinctness it rests on a mantle of that hue, and beyond the scene becomes dark blue. Near at hand many gay flowers peep out. Here and there the scarlet martagón (_Lilium chalcedonicum_), bright blue or yellow gingers; red, orange, yellow, and pure white orchids; pale lobelias, &c.; but they do not mar the general greenness. As we ascended higher on the plateau, grasses, which have pink and reddish brown seed-vessels imparted distinct shades of their colours to the lawns, and were grateful to the eye. We turned aside early in our march to avoid being wetted by rains, and took shelter in some old Babisa sheds; these, when the party is a slaving one, are built so as to form a circle, with but one opening: a ridge pole, or rather a succession of ridge poles, form one long shed all round, with no partitions in the roof-shaped hut. On the _9th of January_ we ascended a hardened sandstone range. Two men who accompanied our guide called out every now and then to attract the attention of the honey-guide, but none appeared. A water-buck had been killed and eaten at one spot, the ground showing marks of a severe struggle, but no game was to be seen. Buffaloes and elephants come here at certain seasons; at present they have migrated elsewhere. The valleys are very beautiful: the oozes are covered with a species of short wiry grass, which gives the valleys the appearance of well-kept gentlemen's parks; but they are full of water to overflowing--immense sponges in fact;--and one has to watch carefully in crossing them to avoid plunging into deep water-holes, made by the feet of elephants or buffaloes. In the ooze generally the water comes half-way up the shoe, and we go plash, plash, plash, in the lawn-like glade. There are no people here now in these lovely wild valleys; but to-day we came to mounds made of old for planting grain, and slag from iron furnaces. The guide was rather offended because he did not get meat and meal, though he is accustomed to leaves at home, and we had none to give except by wanting ourselves: he found a mess without much labour in the forest. My stock of meal came to an end to-day, but Simon gave me some of his. It is not the unpleasantness of eating unpalatable food that teases one, but we are never satisfied; I could brace myself to dispose of a very unsavoury mess, and think no more about it; but this maëre engenders a craving which plagues day and night incessantly. _10th January, 1867._--We crossed the Muasi, flowing strongly to the east to the Loangwa River. In the afternoon an excessively heavy thunderstorm wetted us all to the skin before any shelter could be made. Two of our men wandered, and other two remained behind lost, as our track was washed out by the rains. The country is a succession of enormous waves, all covered with jungle, and no traces of paths; we were in a hollow, and our firing was not heard till this morning, when we ascended a height and were answered. I am thankful that up one was lost, for a man might wander a long time before reaching a village. Simon gave me a little more of his meal this morning, and went without himself: I took my belt up three holes to relieve hunger. We got some wretched wild fruit like that called "jambos" in India, and at midday reached the village of Chafunga. Famine here too, but some men had killed an elephant and came to sell the dried meat: it was high, and so were their prices; but we are obliged to give our best from this craving hunger. _12th January, 1867._--Sitting down this morning near a tree my head was just one yard off a good-sized cobra, coiled up in the sprouts at its root, but it was benumbed with cold: a very pretty little puff-adder lay in the path, also benumbed; it is seldom that any harm is done by these reptiles here, although it is different in India. We bought up all the food we could get; but it did not suffice for the marches we expect to make to get to the Chambezé, where food is said to be abundant, we were therefore again obliged to travel on Sunday. We had prayers before starting; but I always feel that I am not doing fight, it lessens the sense of obligation in the minds of my companions; but I have no choice. We went along a rivulet till it ended in a small lake, Mapampa or Chimbwé, about five miles long, and one and a half broad. It had hippopotami, and the poku fed on its banks. _15th January, 1867._--We had to cross the Chimbwé at its eastern end, where it is fully a mile wide. The guide refused to show another and narrower ford up the stream, which emptied into it from the east; and I, being the first to cross, neglected to give orders about the poor little dog, Chitané. The water was waist deep, the bottom soft peaty stuff with deep holes in it, and the northern side infested by leeches. The boys were--like myself--all too much engaged with preserving their balance to think of the spirited little beast, and he must have swam till he sunk. He was so useful in keeping all the country curs off our huts; none dare to approach and steal, and he never stole himself. He shared the staring of the people with his master, then in the march he took charge of the whole party, running to the front, and again to the rear, to see that all was right. He was becoming yellowish-red in colour; and, poor thing, perished in what the boys all call Chitané's water. _16th January, 1867._--March through the mountains, which are of beautiful white and pink dolomite, scantily covered with upland trees and vegetation. The rain, as usual, made us halt early, and wild fruits helped to induce us to stay. In one place we lighted on a party of people living on Masuko fruit, and making mats of the Shuaré[45] palm petioles. We have hard lines ourselves; nothing but a little maëre porridge and dampers. We roast a little grain, and boil it, to make believe it is coffee. The guide, a maundering fellow, turned because he was not fed better than at home, and because he knew that but for his obstinacy we should not have lost the dog. It is needless to repeat that it is all forest on the northern slopes of the mountains--open glade and miles of forest; ground at present all sloppy; oozes full and overflowing--feet constantly wet. Rivulets rush strongly with _clear_ water, though they are in flood: we can guess which are perennial and which mere torrents that dry up; they flow northwards and westwards to the Chambezé. _17th January, 1867._--Detained in an old Babisa slaving encampment by set-in rain till noon, then set off in the midst of it. Came to hills of dolomite, but all the rocks were covered with white lichens (ash-coloured). The path took us thence along a ridge, which separates the Lotiri, running westwards, and the Lobo, going northwards, and we came at length to the Lobo, travelling along its banks till we reached the village called Lisunga, which was about five yards broad, and very deep, in flood, with clear water, as indeed are all the rivulets now; they can only be crossed by felling a tree on the bant and letting it fall across. They do not abrade their banks--vegetation protects them. I observed that the brown ibis, a noisy bird, took care to restrain his loud, harsh voice when driven from the tree in which his nest was placed, and when about a quarter of a mile off, then commenced his loud "Ha-ha-ha!" _18th January, 1867._--The headman of Lisunga, Chaokila, took our present, and gave nothing in return. A deputy from Chitapangwa came afterwards and demanded a larger present, as he was the greater man, and said that if we gave him two fathoms of calico, he would order all the people to bring plenty of food, not here only, but all the way to the paramount chief of Lobemba, Chitapangwa. I proposed that he should begin by ordering Chaokila to give us some in return for our present. This led, as Chaokila told us, to the cloth being delivered to the deputy, and we saw that all the starvelings south of the Chambezé were poor dependants on the Babemba, or rather their slaves, who cultivate little, and then only in the rounded patches above mentioned, so as to prevent their conquerors from taking away more than a small share. The subjects are Babisa--a miserable lying lot of serfs. This tribe is engaged in the slave-trade, and the evil effects are seen in their depopulated country and utter distrust of every one. _19th January, 1867._--Raining most of the day. Worked out the longitude of the mountain-station said to be Mpini, but it will be better to name it Chitané's, as I could not get the name from our maundering guide; he probably did not know it. Lat, 11° 9' 2" S.; long. 32° 1' 30" E. Altitude above sea (barometer) 5353 feet; Altitude above sea (boiling-point) 5385 feet. ---- Diff. 32.[46] Nothing but famine and famine prices, the people living on mushrooms and leaves. Of mushrooms we observed that they choose five or six kinds, and rejected ten sorts. One species becomes as large as the crown of a man's hat; it is pure white, with a blush of brown in the middle of the crown, and is very good roasted; it is named "Motenta;" another, Mofeta; 3rd, Boséfwé; 4th, Nakabausa; 5th, Chisimbé, lobulated, green outside, and pink and fleshy inside; as a relish to others: some experience must have been requisite to enable them to distinguish the good from the noxious, of which they reject ten sorts. We get some elephants' meat from the people, but high is no name for its condition. It is very bitter, but we used it as a relish to the maëre porridge: none of the animal is wasted; skin and all is cut up and sold, not one of us would touch it with the hand if we had aught else, for the gravy in which we dip our porridge is like an aqueous solution of aloes, but it prevents the heartburn, which maëre causes when taken alone. I take mushrooms boiled instead; but the meat is never refused when we can purchase it, as it seems to ease the feeling of fatigue which jungle-fruit and fare engenders. The appetite in this country is always very keen, and makes hunger worse to bear: the want of salt, probably, makes the gnawing sensation worse. * * * * * [We now come to a disaster which cannot be exaggerated in importance when we witness its after effects month by month on Dr. Livingstone. There can be little doubt that the severity of his subsequent illnesses mainly turned upon it, and it is hardly too much to believe that his constitution from this time was steadily sapped by the effects of fever-poison which he was powerless to counteract, owing to the want of quinine. In his allusion to Bishop Mackenzie's death, we have only a further confirmation of the one rule in all such cases which must be followed, or the traveller in Africa goes--not with his life in his hand, but in some luckless box, put in the charge of careless servants. Bishop Mackenzie had all his drugs destroyed by the upsetting of a canoe, in which was his case of medicines, and in a moment everything was soaked and spoilt. It cannot be too strongly urged on explorers that they should divide their more important medicines in such a way that a _total loss_ shall become well-nigh impossible. Three or four tin canisters containing some calomel, Dover's powder, colocynth, and, above all, a supply of quinine, can be distributed in different packages, and then, if a mishap occurs similar to that which Livingstone relates, the disaster is not beyond remedy.] * * * * * _20th January, 1867._--A guide refused, so we marched without one. The two Waiyau, who joined us at Kandé's village, now deserted. They had been very faithful all the way, and took our part in every case. Knowing the language well, they were extremely useful, and no one thought that they would desert, for they were free men--their masters had been killed by the Mazitu--and this circumstance, and their uniform good conduct, made us trust them more than we should have done any others who had been slaves. But they left us in the forest, and heavy rain came on, which obliterated every vestige of their footsteps. To make the loss the more galling, they took what we could least spare--the medicine-box, which they would only throw away as soon as they came to examine their booty. One of these deserters exchanged his load that morning with a boy called Baraka, who had charge of the medicine-box, because he was so careful. This was done, because with the medicine-chest were packed five large cloths and all Baraka's clothing and beads, of which he was very careful. The Waiyau also offered to carry this burden a stage to help Baraka, while he gave his own load, in which there was no cloth, in exchange. The forest was so dense and high, there was no chance of getting a glimpse of the fugitives, who took all the dishes, a large box of powder, the flour we had purchased dearly to help us as far as the Chambezé, the tools, two guns, and a cartridge-pouch; but the medicine-chest was the sorest loss of all! I felt as if I had now received the sentence of death, like poor Bishop Mackenzie. All the other goods I had divided in case of loss or desertion, but had never dreamed of losing the precious quinine and other remedies; other losses and annoyances I felt as just parts of that undercurrent of vexations which is not wanting in even the smoothest life, and certainly not worthy of being moaned over in the experience of an explorer anxious to benefit a country and people--but this loss I feel most keenly. Everything of this kind happens by the permission of One who watches over us with most tender care; and this may turn out for the best by taking away a source of suspicion among more superstitious, charm-dreading people further north. I meant it as a source of benefit to my party and to the heathen. We returned to Lisunga, and got two men off to go back to Chafunga's village, and intercept the deserters if they went there; but it is likely that, having our supply of flour, they will give our route a wide berth and escape altogether. It is difficult to say from the heart, "Thy will be done;" but I shall try. These Waiyau had few advantages: sold into slavery in early life, they were in the worst possible school for learning to be honest and honourable, they behaved well for a long time; but, having had hard and scanty fare in Lobisa, wet and misery in passing through dripping forests, hungry nights and fatiguing days, their patience must have been worn out, and they had no sentiments of honour, or at least none so strong as we ought to have; they gave way to the temptation which their good conduct had led us to put in their way. Some we have come across in this journey seemed born essentially mean and base--a great misfortune to them and all who have to deal with them, but they cannot be so blamable as those who have no natural tendency to meanness, and whose education has taught them to abhor it. True; yet this loss of the medicine-box gnaws at the heart terribly. _21st and 22nd January, 1867._--Remained at Lisunga--raining nearly all day; and we bought all the maëre the chief would sell. We were now forced to go on and made for the next village to buy food. Want of food and rain are our chief difficulties now, more rain falls here on this northern slope of the upland than elsewhere; clouds come up from the north and pour down their treasures in heavy thunder-showers, which deluge the whole country south of the edge of the plateau: the rain-clouds come from the west chiefly. _23rd January, 1867._--A march of five and three-quarter hours brought us yesterday to a village, Chibanda's stockade, where "no food" was the case, as usual. We crossed a good-sized rivulet, the Mapampa (probably ten yards wide), dashing along to the east; all the rest of the way was in dark forest. I sent off the boys to the village of Muasi to buy food, if successful, to-morrow we march for the Chambezé, on the other side of which all the reports agree in the statement that there plenty of food is to be had. We all feel weak and easily tired, and an incessant hunger teases us, so it is no wonder if so large a space of this paper is occupied by stomach affairs. It has not been merely want of nice dishes, but real biting hunger and faintness. _24th January, 1867._--Four hours through unbroken, dark forest brought us to the Movushi, which here is a sluggish stream, winding through and filling a marshy valley a mile wide. It comes from south-east, and falls into the Chambezé, about 2' north of our encampment. The village of Moaba is on the east side of the marshy valley of the Movuhi, and very difficult to be approached, as the water is chin-deep in several spots. I decided to make sheds on the west side, and send over for food, which, thanks to the Providence which watches over us, we found at last in a good supply of maëre and some ground-nuts; but through, all this upland region the trees yielding bark-cloth, or _nyanda_, are so abundant, that the people are all well-clothed with it, and care but little for our cloth. Red and pink beads are in fashion, and fortunately we have red. * * * * * [We may here add a few particulars concerning beads, which form such an important item of currency all through Africa. With a few exceptions they are all manufactured in Venice. The greatest care must be exercised, or the traveller--ignorant of the prevailing fashion in the country he is about to explore--finds himself with an accumulation of beads of no more value than tokens would be if tendered in this country for coin of the realm. Thanks to the kindness of Messrs. Levin & Co., the bead merchants, of Bevis Marks, E.C., we have been able to get some idea of the more valuable beads, through a selection made by Susi and Chuma in their warehouse. The Waiyou prefer exceedingly small beads, the size of mustard-seed, and of various colours, but they must be opaque: amongst them dull white chalk varieties, called "Catchokolo," are valuable, besides black and pink, named, respectively, "Bububu" and "Sekundereché" = the "dregs of pombe." One red bead, of various sizes, which has a white centre, is always valuable in every part of Africa. It is called "Sami-sami" by the Suahélé, "Chitakaraka" by the Waiyou, "Mangazi," = "blood," by the Nyassa, and was found popular even amongst the Manyuema, under the name of "Maso-kantussi", "bird's eyes." Whilst speaking of this distant tribe, it is interesting to observe that one peculiar long bead, recognised as common in the Manyuema land, is only sent to the West Coast of Africa, and _never_ to the East. On Chuma pointing to it as a sort found at the extreme limit explored by Livingstone, it was at once seen that he must have touched that part of Africa which begins to be within the reach of the traders in the Portuguese settlements. "Machua Kanga" = "guinea fowl's eyes," is another popular variety; and the "Moiompio" = "new heart," a large pale blue bead, is a favourite amongst the Wabisa; but by far the most valuable of all is a small white oblong bead, which, when strung, looks like the joints of the cane root, from which it takes its name, "Salani" = cane. Susi says that 1 lb. weight of these beads would buy a tusk of ivory, at the south end of Tanganyika, so big that a strong man could not carry it more than two hours.] * * * * * _25th January, 1867._--Remain and get our maëre ground into flour. Moaba has cattle, sheep, and goats. The other side of the Chambezé has everything in still greater abundance; so we may recover our lost flesh. There are buffaloes in this quarter, but we have not got a glimpse of any. If game was to be had, I should have hunted; but the hopo way of hunting prevails, and we pass miles of hedges by which many animals must have perished. In passing-through the forests it is surprising to see none but old footsteps of the game; but the hopo destruction accounts for its absence. When the hedges are burned, then the manured space is planted with pumpkins and calabashes. I observed at Chibanda's a few green mushrooms, which, on being peeled, showed a pink, fleshy inside; they are called "chisimba;" and only one or two are put into the mortar, in which the women pound the other kinds, to give relish, it was said, to the mass: I could not ascertain what properties chisimba had when taken alone; but mushroom diet, in our experience, is good only for producing dreams of the roast beef of bygone days. The saliva runs from the mouth in these dreams, and the pillow is wet with it in the mornings. These Babisa are full of suspicion; everything has to be paid for accordingly in advance, and we found that giving a present to a chief is only putting it in his power to cheat us out of a supper. They give nothing to each other for nothing, and if this is enlargement of mind produced by commerce, commend me to the untrading African! Fish now appear in the rivulets. Higher altitudes have only small things, not worth catching. An owl makes the woods resound by night and early morning with his cries, which consist of a loud, double-initial note, and then a succession of lower descending notes. Another new bird, or at least new to me, makes the forests ring. When the vultures see us making our sheds, they conclude that we have killed some animal; but after watching awhile, and seeing no meat, they depart. This is suggestive of what other things prove, that it is only by sight they are guided.[47] With respect to the native head-dresses the colouring-matter, "nkola," which seems to be camwood, is placed as an ornament on the head, and some is put on the bark-cloth to give it a pleasant appearance. The tree, when cut, is burned to bring out the strong colour, and then, when it is developed, the wood is powdered. The gum-copal trees now pour out gum where wounded, and I have seen masses of it fallen on the ground. _26th January, 1867._--Went northwards along the Movushi, near to its confluence with Chambezé, and then took lodging in a deserted temporary village. In the evening I shot a poku, or tsébula, full-grown male. It measured from snout to insertion of tail, 5 feet 3 inches; tail, 1 foot; height at withers, 3 feet; circumference of chest, 5 feet; face to insertion of horns, 9-1/2 inches; horns measured on curve, 16 inches. Twelve rings on horns, and one had a ridge behind, 1/2 inch broad, 1/2 inch high, and tapering up the horn; probably accidental. Colour: reddish-yellow, dark points in front of foot and on the ears, belly nearly white. The shell went through from behind the shoulder to the spleen, and burst on the other side, yet he ran 100 yards. I felt very thankful to the Giver of all good for this meat. _27th January, 1867._--A set-in rain all the morning, but having meat we were comfortable in the old huts. In changing my dress this morning I was frightened at my own emaciation. _28th January, 1867._--- We went five miles along the Movushi and the Chambezé to a crossing-place said to avoid three rivers on the other side, which require canoes just now, and have none. Our lat. 10° 34' S. The Chambezé was flooded with clear water, but the lines of bushy trees, which showed its real banks, were not more than forty yards apart, it showed its usual character of abundant animal life in its waters and on its banks, as it wended its way westwards. The canoe-man was excessively suspicious; when prepayment was acceded to, he asked a piece more, and although he was promised full payment as soon as we were all safely across he kept the last man on the south side as a hostage for this bit of calico: he then ran away. They must cheat each other sadly. Went northwards, wading across two miles of flooded flats on to which the _Clarias Capensis_, a species of siluris, comes to forage out of the river. We had the Likindazi, a sedgy stream, with hippopotami, on our right. Slept in forest without seeing anyone. Then next day we met with a party who had come from their village to look for us. We were now in Lobemba, but these villagers had nothing but hopes of plenty at Chitapangwa's. This village had half a mile of ooze and sludgy marsh in front of it, and a stockade as usual. We observed that the people had great fear of animals at night, and shut the gates carefully, of even temporary villages. When at Molemba (Chitapangwa's village) afterwards, two men were killed by a lion, and great fear of crocodiles was expressed by our canoe-man at the Chambezé, when one washed in the margin of that river. There was evidence of abundance of game, elephants, and buffaloes, but we saw none. _29th January, 1867._--When near our next stage end we were shown where lightning had struck; it ran down a gum-copal tree without damaging it, then ten yards horizontally, and dividing there into two streams it went up an anthill; the withered grass showed its course very plainly, and next day (31st), on the banks of the Mabula, we saw a dry tree which had been struck; large splinters had been riven off and thrown a distance of sixty yards in one direction and thirty yards in another: only a stump was left, and patches of withered grass where it had gone horizontally. _30th January, 1867._--Northwards through almost trackless dripping forests and across oozing bogs. _31st January, 1867._--Through forest, but gardens of larger size than in Lobisa now appear. A man offered a thick bar of copper for sale, a foot by three inches. The hard-leafed acacia and mohempi abound. The valleys, with the oozes, have a species of grass, having pink seed-stalks and yellow seeds: this is very pretty. At midday we came to the Lopiri, the rivulet which waters Chitapanga's stockade, and soon after found that his village has a triple stockade, the inner being defended also by a deep broad ditch and hedge of a solanaceous thorny shrub. It is about 200 yards broad and 500 long. The huts not planted very closely. The rivulets were all making for the Chambezé. They contain no fish, except very small ones--probably fry. On the other, or western side of the ridge, near which "Malemba" is situated, fish abound worth catching. [Illustration: Chitapangwa] Chitapangwa, or Motoka, as he is also called, sent to inquire if we wanted an audience. "We must take something in our hands the first time we came before so great a man." Being tired from marching, I replied, "Not till the evening," and sent notice at 5 P.M. of my coming. We passed through the inner stockade, and then on to an enormous hut, where sat Chitapangwa, with three drummers and ten or more men, with two rattles in their hands. The drummers beat furiously, and the rattlers kept time to the drums, two of them advancing and receding in a stooping posture, with rattles near the ground, as if doing the chief obeisance, but still keeping time with the others. I declined to sit on the ground, and an enormous tusk was brought for me. The chief saluted courteously. He has a fat jolly face, and legs loaded with brass and copper leglets. I mentioned our losses by the desertion of the Waiyau, but his power is merely nominal, and he could do nothing. After talking awhile he came along with us to a group of cows, and pointed out one. "That is yours," said he. The tusk on which I sat was sent after me too as being mine, because I had sat upon it. He put on my cloth as token of acceptance, and sent two large baskets of sorghum to the hut afterwards, and then sent for one of the boys to pump him after dark. [Illustration: Chitapangwa's Wives.] _1st February, 1867._--We found a small party of black Arab slave-traders here from Bagamoio on the coast, and as the chief had behaved handsomely as I thought, I went this morning and gave him one of our best cloths; but when we were about to kill the cow, a man interfered and pointed out a smaller one. I asked if this was by the orders of the chief. The chief said that the man had lied, but I declined to take any cow at all if he did not give it willingly. The slavers, the headman of whom was Magaru Mafupi, came and said that they were going off on the 2nd; (_2nd February, 1867_) but by payment I got them to remain a day, and was all day employed in writing despatches. _3rd February, 1867._--Magaru Mafupi left this morning with a packet of letters, for which he is to get Rs. 10 at Zanzibar.[48] They came by a much shorter route than we followed, in fact, nearly due west or south-west; but not a soul would tell us of this way of coming into the country when we were at Zanzibar. Bagamoio is only six hours north of Kurdary Harbour. It is possible that the people of Zanzibar did not know of it themselves, as this is the first time they have come so far. The route is full of villages and people who have plenty of goats, and very cheap. They number fifteen stations, or sultans, as they call the chiefs, and will be at Bagamoio in two months:--1. Chasa; 2. Lombé; 3. Ucheré; 4. Nyamiro; 5. Zonda; 6. Zambi; 7. Lioti; 8. Méreré; 9. Kirangabana; 10. Nkongozi; 11. Sombogo; 12. Suré; 13. Lomolasenga; 14. Kapass; 15, Chanzé. They are then in the country adjacent to Bagamoio. Some of these places are two or three days apart from each other. They came to three large rivers: 1. Wembo; 2. Luaha; 3. Luvo; but I had not time to make further inquiries. They had one of Speke's companions to Tanganyika with them, named Janjé, or Janja, who could imitate a trumpet by blowing into the palm of his hand. I ordered another supply of cloth and beads, and I sent for a small quantity of coffee, sugar, candles, French preserved meats, a cheese in tin, six bottles of port-wine, quinine, calomel, and resin of jalap, to be sent to Ujiji. I proposed to go a little way east with this route to buy goats, but Chitapangwa got very angry, saying, I came only to show my things, and would buy nothing: he then altered his tone, and requested me to take the cow first presented and eat it, and as we were all much in need I took it. We were to give only what we liked in addition; but this was a snare, and when I gave two more cloths he sent them back, and demanded a blanket. The boys alone have blankets; so I told him these were not slaves, and I could not take from them what I had once given. Though it is disagreeable to be thus victimized, it is the first time we have tasted fat for six weeks and more. _6th February, 1867._--Chitapangwa came with his wife to see the instruments which I explained to them as well as I could, and the books, as well as the Book of Books, and to my statements he made intelligent remarks. The boys are sorely afraid of him. When Abraham does not like to say what I state, he says to me "I don't know the proper word;" but when I speak without him, he soon finds them. He and Simon thought that talking in a cringing manner was the way to win him over, so I let them try it with a man he sent to communicate with us, and the result was this fellow wanted to open their bundles, pulled them about, and kept them awake most of the night. Abraham came at night: "Sir, what shall I do? they won't let me sleep." "You have had your own way," I replied, "and must abide by it." He brought them over to me in the morning, but I soon dismissed both him and them. _7th February, 1867._--I sent to the chief either to come to me or say Avhen I should come to him and talk; the answer I got was that he would come when shaved, but he afterwards sent a man to hear what I had to advance--this I declined, and when the rain ceased I went myself. On coming into his hut I stated that I had given him four times the value of his cow, but if he thought otherwise, let us take the four cloths to his brother Moamba, and if he said that I had not given enough, I would buy a cow and send it back. This he did not relish at all. "Oh, great Englishman! why should we refer a dispute to an inferior. I am the great chief of all this country. Ingleze mokolu, you are sorry that you have to give so much for the ox you have eaten. You would not take a smaller, and therefore I gratified your heart by giving the larger; and why should not you gratify my heart by giving cloth sufficient to cover me, and please me?" I said that my cloths would cover him, and his biggest wife too all over, he laughed at this, but still held out; and as we have meat, and he sent maize and calabashes, I went away. He turns round now, and puts the blame of greediness on me. I cannot enter into his ideas, or see his point of view; cannot, in fact, enter into his ignorance, his prejudices, or delusions, so it is impossible to pronounce a true judgment. One who has no humour cannot understand one who has: this is an equivalent case. Rain and clouds so constantly, I could not get our latitude till last night, 10° 14' 6" S. On 8th got lunars. Long. 31° 46' 45" E. Altitude above sea, 4700 feet, by boiling-point and barometer. _8th February, 1867._--The chief demands one of my boxes and a blanket; I explain that one day's rain would spoil the contents, and the boys who have blankets, not being slaves, I cannot take from them what I have given. I am told that he declares that he will take us back to the Loangwa; make war and involve us in it, deprive us of food, &c.: this succeeds in terrifying the boys. He thinks that we have some self-interest to secure in passing through the country, and therefore he has a right to a share in the gain. When told it was for a public benefit, he pulled down the underlid of the right eye.[49] He believes we shall profit by our journey, though he knows not in what way. It is possibly only a coincidence, but no sooner do we meet with one who accompanied Speke and Burton to Tanganyika, than the system of mulcting commences. I have no doubt but that Janjé told this man how his former employers paid down whatever was demanded of them. _10th February, 1867._--I had service in the open air, many looking on, and spoke afterwards to the chief, but he believes nothing save what Speke and Burton's man has told him. He gave us a present of corn and ground-nuts, and says he did not order the people not to sell grain to us. We must stop and eat green maize. He came after evening service, and I explained a little to him, and showed him woodcuts in the 'Bible Dictionary,' which he readily understood. _11th February, 1867._--The chief sent us a basket of hippopotamus flesh from the Chambezé, and a large one of green maize. He says the three cloths I offered are still mine: all he wants is a box and blanket; if not a blanket, a box must be given, a tin one. He keeps out of my way, by going to the gardens every morning. He is good-natured, and our intercourse is a laughing one; but the boys betray their terrors in their tone of voice, and render my words powerless. The black and white, and the brownish-grey water wagtails are remarkably tame. They come about the huts and even into them, and no one ever disturbs them. They build their nests about the huts. In the Bechuana country, a fine is imposed on any man whose boys kill one, but why, no one can tell me. The boys with me aver that they are not killed, because the meat is not eaten! or because they are so tame!! _13th February, 1867._--I gave one of the boxes at last, Chitapangwa offering a heavy Arab wooden one to preserve our things, which I declined to take, as I parted with our own partly to lighten a load. Abraham unwittingly told me that he had not given me the chiefs statement in full when he pressed me to take his cow. It was, "Take and eat the one you like, and give me a blanket." Abraham said "He has no blanket." Then he said to me, "Take it and eat it, and give him any pretty thing you like." I was thus led to mistake the chief, and he, believing that he had said explicitly he wanted a blanket for it, naturally held out. It is difficult to get these lads to say what one wants uttered: either with enormous self-conceit, they give different, and, as they think, better statements, suppress them altogether, or return false answers: this is the great and crowning difficulty of my intercourse. I got ready to go, but the chief was very angry, and came with all his force, exclaiming that I wanted to leave against his will and power, though he wished to adjust matters, and send me away nicely. He does not believe that we have no blankets. It is hard to be kept waiting here, but all may be for the best: it has always turned out so, and I trust in Him on whom I can cast all my cares. The Lord look on this and help me. Though I have these nine boys, I feel quite alone. I gave the chief some seeds, peas, and beans, for which he seemed thankful, and returned little presents of food and beer frequently. The beer of maëre is stuffed full of the growing grain as it begins to sprout, it is as thick as porridge, very strong and bitter, and goes to the head, requiring a strong digestion to overcome it. _February, 1867._--I showed the chief one of the boys' blankets, which he is willing to part with for two of our cloths, each of which is larger than it, but he declines to receive it, because we have new ones. I invited him, since he disbelieved my assertions, to look in our bales, and if he saw none, to pay us a fine for the insult: he consented in a laughing way to give us an ox. All our personal intercourse has been of the good-natured sort. It is the communications to the boys, by three men who are our protectors, or rather spies, that is disagreeable; I won't let them bring those fellows near me. _10th February, 1867._--He came early in the morning, and I showed that I had no blanket, and he took the old one, and said that the affair was ended. A long misunderstanding would have been avoided, had Abraham told me fully what the chief said at first. _16th February, 1867._--The chief offered me a cow for à piece of red serge, and after a deal of talk and Chitapangwa swearing that no demand would be made after the bargain was concluded, I gave the serge, a cloth, and a few beads for a good fat cow. The serge was two fathoms, a portion of that which Miss Coutts gave me when leaving England in 1858. The chief is not so bad, as the boys are so cowardly. They assume a chirping, piping tone of voice in speaking to him, and do not say what at last has to be said, because in their cringing souls they believe they know what should be said better than I do. It does not strike them in the least that I have grown grey amongst these people; and it is immense conceit in mere boys to equal themselves to me. The difficulty is greater, because when I do ask their opinions I only receive the reply, "It is as you please, sir." Very likely some men of character may arise and lead them; but such as I have would do little to civilise. _17th February, 1867._--Too ill with rheumatic-fever to have service; this is the first attack of it I ever had--and no medicine! but I trust in the Lord, who healeth His people. _18th February, 1867._--This cow we divided at once. The last one we cooked, and divided a full, hearty meal to all every evening. The boom--booming of water dashing against or over the rocks is heard at a good distance from most of the burns in this upland region; hence it is never quite still. The rocks here are argillaceous schist, red and white. _(Keel, Scotticé.)_ _19th February, 1867._--Chitapangwa begged me to stay another day, that one of the boys might mend his blanket; it has been worn every night since April, and I, being weak and giddy, consented. A glorious day of bright sunlight after a night's rain. We scarcely ever have a twenty-four hours without rain, and never half that period without thunder. The camwood (?) is here called molombwa, and grows very abundantly. The people take the bark, boil, and grind it fine: it is then a splendid blood-red, and they use it extensively as an ornament, sprinkling it on the bark-cloth, or smearing it on the head. It is in large balls, and is now called mkola. The tree has pinnated, alternate lanceolate, leaves, and attains a height of 40 or 50 feet, with a diameter of 15 or 18 inches finely and closely veined above, more widely beneath. I am informed by Abraham that the Nyumbo (Numbo or Mumbo) is easily propagated by cuttings, or by cuttings of the roots. A bunch of the stalks is preserved in the soil for planting next year, and small pieces are cut off, and take root easily; it has a pea-shaped flower, but we never saw the seed. It is very much better here than I have seen it elsewhere; and James says that in his country it is quite white and better still; what I have seen is of a greenish tinge after it is boiled. [Amongst the articles brought to the coast the men took care not to lose a number of seeds which they found in Dr. Livingstone's boxes after his death. These have been placed in the hands of the authorities at Kew, and we may hope that in some instances they have maintained vitality. It is a great pity that there is such a lack of enterprise in the various European settlements on the East Coast of Africa. Were it otherwise a large trade in valuable woods and other products would assuredly spring up. Ebony and lignum vitae abound; Dr. Livingstone used hardly any other fuel when he navigated the _Pioneer_, and no wood was found to make such "good steam." India-rubber may be had for the collecting, and we see that even the natives know some of the dye-woods, besides which the palm-oil tree is found, indigo is a weed everywhere, and coffee is indigenous.] FOOTNOTES: [36] In coming to cross roads it is the custom of the leader to "mark" all side paths and wrong turnings by making a scratch across them with his spear, or by breaking a branch and laying it across: in this way those who follow are able to avoid straying off the proper road.--ED. [37] Heleotragus Vardonii. [38] The tamarind does the same thing in the heat of the day. [39] A species of kingfisher, which stands flapping its wings and attempting to sing in a ridiculous manner. It never was better described than by one observer who, after watching it through its performance, said it was "a toy-shoppy bird."--ED. [40] Not the great chief near Lake Moero of the same name. [41] This extraordinary bird flies from tree to tree in front of the hunter, chirrupping loudly, and will not be content till he arrives at the spot where the bees'-nest is; it then waits quietly till the honey is taken, and feeds on the broken morsels of comb which fall to its share. [42] Eleusine Coracana. [43] It may not be altogether without interest to state that Livingstone could fall asleep when he wished at the very shortest notice. A mat, and a shady tree under which to spread it, would at any time afford him a refreshing sleep, and this faculty no doubt contributed much to his great powers of endurance.--ED. [44] When the elephant becomes confused by the yelping pack of dogs with which he is surrounded, the hunter stealthily approaches behind, and with one blow of a sharp axe hamstrings the huge beast.--ED. [45] Raphia. [46] Top of mountain (barometer) 6338 feat. [47] The experience of all African sportsmen tends towards the same conclusion. Vultures probably have their beats high overhead in the sky, too far to be seen by the eye. From this altitude they can watch a vast tract of country, and whenever the disturbed movements of game are observed they draw together, and for the first time are seen wheeling, about at a great height over the spot. So soon as an animal is killed, every tree is filled with them, but the hunter has only to cover the meat with boughs or reeds and the vultures are entirely at a loss--hidden, from view it is hidden altogether: the idea that they are attracted by their keen sense of smell is altogether erroneous,--ED. [48] These letters reached England safely. [49] It seems almost too ridiculous to believe that we have here the exact equivalent of the schoolboy's demonstrative "Do you see any green in my eye?" nevertheless it looks wonderfully like it!--ED. CHAPTER VIII. Chitapangwa's parting oath. Course laid for Lake Tanganyika. Moamba's village. Another watershed. The Babemba tribe. Ill with fever. Threatening attitude of Chibué's people. Continued illness. Reaches cliffs overhanging Lake Liemba. Extreme beauty of the scene. Dangerous fit of insensibility. Leaves the Lake. Pernambuco cotton. Rumours of war between Arabs and Nsama. Reaches Chitimba's village. Presents Sultan's letter to principal Arab Harnees. The war in Itawa. Geography of the Arabs. Ivory traders and slave-dealers. Appeal to the Koran. Gleans intelligence of the Wasongo to the eastward, and their chief, Meréré. Harnees sets out against Nsama. Tedious sojourn. Departure for Ponda. Native cupping. _20th February, 1867._--I told the chief before starting that my heart was sore, because he was not sending me away so cordially as I liked. He at once ordered men to start with us, and gave me a brass knife with ivory sheath, which he had long worn, as a memorial. He explained that we ought to go north as, if we made easting, we should ultimately be obliged to turn west, and all our cloth would be expended ere we reached the Lake Tanganyika; he took a piece of clay off the ground and rubbed it on his tongue as an oath that what he said was true, and came along with us to see that all was right; and so we parted. We soon ascended the plateau, which encloses with its edge the village and stream of Molemba. Wild pigs are abundant, and there are marks of former cultivation. A short march brought us to an ooze, surrounded by hedges, game-traps, and pitfalls, where, as we are stiff and weak, we spend the night. Rocks abound of the same dolomite kind as on the ridge further south, between the Loangwa and Chambezé, covered, like them, with lichens, orchids, euphorbias, and upland vegetation, hard-leaved acacias, rhododendrons, masukos. The gum-copal tree, when perforated by a grub, exudes from branches no thicker than one's arm, masses of soft, gluey-looking gum, brownish yellow, and light grey, as much as would fill a soup-plate. It seems to yield this gum only in the rainy season, and now all the trees are full of sap and gum. _21st February, 1867._--A night with loud and near thunder, and much heavy rain, which came through the boys' sheds. Roads all plashy or running with water, oozes full, and rivulets overflowing; rocks of dolomite jutting out here and there. I noticed growing here a spikenard-looking shrub, six feet high, and a foot in diameter. The path led us west against my will. I found one going north; but the boys pretended that they did not see my mark, and went west, evidently afraid of incurring Moamba's displeasure by passing him. I found them in an old hut, and made the best of it by saying nothing. They said that they had wandered; that was, they had never left the west-going path. _22nd February, 1867._--We came to a perennial rivulet running north, the Merungu. Here we met Moamba's people, but declined going to his village, as huts are disagreeable; they often have vermin, and one is exposed to the gaze of a crowd through a very small doorway. The people in their curiosity often make the place dark, and the impudent ones offer characteristic remarks, then raise a laugh, and run away. We encamped on the Meningu's right bank in forest, sending word to Moamba that we meant to do so. He sent a deputation, first of all his young men, to bring us; then old men, and lastly he came himself with about sixty followers. I explained that I had become sick by living in a little hut at Molemba; that I was better in the open air; that huts contained vermin; and that I did not mean to remain any while here, but go on our way. He pressed us to come to his village, and gave us a goat and kid, with a huge calabashful of beer. I promised to go over and visit him next day; and went accordingly. _23rd February, 1867._--Moamba's village was a mile off, and on the left bank of the Merengé, a larger stream than the Merungu flowing north and having its banks and oozes covered with fine, tall, straight, evergreen trees. The village is surrounded with a stockade, and a dry ditch some fifteen or twenty feet wide, and as many deep. I had a long talk with Moamba, a big, stout, public-house-looking person, with a slight outward cast in his left eye, but intelligent and hearty. I presented him with a cloth; and he gave me as much maëre meal as a man could carry, with a large basket of ground-nuts. He wished us to come to the Merengé, if not into his village, that he might see and talk with me: I also showed him some pictures in Smith's 'Bible Dictionary,' which he readily understood, and I spoke to him about the Bible. He asked me "to come next day and tell him about prayer to God," this was a natural desire after being told that we prayed. He was very anxious to know why we were going to Tanganyika; for what we came; what we should buy there; and if I had any relations there. He then showed me some fine large tusks, eight feet six in length. "What do you wish to buy, if not slaves or ivory?" I replied, that the only thing I had seen worth buying was a fine fat chief like him, as a specimen, and a woman feeding him, as he had, with beer. He was tickled at this; and said that when we reached our country, I must put fine clothes on him. This led us to speak of our climate, and the production of wool. _24th February, 1867._--I went over after service, but late, as the rain threatened to be heavy. A case was in process of hearing, and one old man spoke an hour on end, the chief listening all the while with the gravity of a judge. He then delivered his decision in about five minutes, the successful litigant going off lullilooing. Each person, before addressing him, turns his back to him and lies down on the ground, clapping the hands: this is the common mode of salutation. Another form here in Lobemba is to rattle the arrows or an arrow on the bow, which all carry. We had a little talk with the chief; but it was late before the cause was heard through. He asked us to come and spend one night near him on the Merenga, and then go on, so we came over in the morning to the vicinity of his village. A great deal of copper-wire is here made, the wire-drawers using for one part of the process a seven-inch cable. They make very fine wire, and it is used chiefly as leglets and anklets; the chief's wives being laden with them, and obliged to walk in a stately style from the weight: the copper comes from Katanga. _26th February, 1867._--The chief wishes to buy a cloth with two goats, but his men do not bring them up quickly. Simon, one of the boys, is ill of fever, and this induces me to remain, though moving from one place to another is the only remedy we have in our power. With the chief's men we did not get on well, but with himself all was easy. His men demanded prepayment for canoes to cross the river Loömbé; but in the way that he put it, the request was not unreasonable, as he gave a man to smooth our way, and get canoes, or whatever else was needed, all the way to Chibué's. I gave a cloth when he put it thus, and he presented a goat, a spear ornamented with copper-wire, abundance of meal, and beer, and numbo; so we parted good friends, as his presents were worth the cloth. Holding a north-westerly course we met with the Chikosho flowing west, and thence came to the Likombé by a high ridge called Losauswa, which runs a long way westward. It is probably a watershed between streams going to the Chambezé and those that go to the northern rivers. We have the Locopa, Loömbé, Nikéléngé, then Lofubu or Lovu; the last goes north into Liembe, but accounts are very confused. The Chambezé rises in the Mambivé country, which is north-east of Moamba, but near to it. The forest through which we passed was dense, but scrubby; trees unhealthy and no drainage except through oozes. On the keel which forms a clay soil the rain runs off, and the trees attain a large size. The roads are not soured by the slow process of the ooze drainage. At present all the slopes having loamy or sandy soil are oozes, and full to overflowing; a long time is required for them to discharge their contents. The country generally may be called one covered with forest. _6th March, 1867._--We came after a short march to a village on the Molilanga, flowing east into the Loömbé, here we meet with bananas for the first time, called, as in Lunda, nkondé. A few trophies from Mazitu are hung up: Chitapangwa had twenty-four skulls ornamenting his stockade. The Babemba are decidedly more warlike than any of the tribes south of them: their villages are stockaded, and have deep dry ditches round them, so it is likely that Mochimbé will be effectually checked, and forced to turn his energies to something else than to marauding. Our man from Moamba here refused to go further, and we were put on the wrong track by the headman wading through three marshes, each at least half a mile broad. The people of the first village we came to shut their gates on us, then came running after us; but we declined to enter their village: it is a way of showing their independence. We made our sheds on a height in spite of their protests. They said that the gates were shut by the boys; but when I pointed out the boy who had done it, he said that he had been ordered to do it by the chief. If we had gone in now we should have been looked on as having come under considerable obligations. _8th March, 1867._--We went on to a village on the Loömbé, where the people showed an opposite disposition, for not a soul was in it--all were out at their farms. When the good wife of the place came she gave us all huts, which saved us from a pelting shower. The boys herding the goats did not stir as we passed down the sides of the lovely valley. The Loömbé looks a sluggish stream from a distance. The herdsman said we were welcome, and he would show the crossing next day, he also cooked some food for us. Guided by our host, we went along the Loömbé westwards till we reached the bridge (rather a rickety affair), which, when the water is low may be used as a weir. The Loömbé main stream is 66 feet wide, 6 feet deep, with at least 200 feet of flood beyond it. The water was knee deep on the bridge, but clear; the flooded part beyond was waist deep and the water flowing fast. All the people are now transplanting tobacco from the spaces under the eaves of the huts into the fields. It seems unable to bear the greater heat of summer: they plant also a kind of liranda, proper for the cold weather. We thought that we were conferring a boon in giving peas, but we found them generally propagated all over the country already, and in the cold time too. We went along the Diola River to an old hut and made a fire; thence across country to another river, called Loendawé, 6 feet wide, and 9 feet deep. _10th March, 1867._--I have been ill of fever ever since we left Moamba's; every step I take jars in the chest, and I am very weak; I can scarcely keep up the march, though formerly I was always first, and had to hold in my pace not to leave the people altogether. I have a constant singing in the ears, and can scarcely hear the loud tick of the chronometers. The appetite is good, but we have no proper food, chiefly maëre meal or beans, or mapemba or ground-nuts, rarely a fowl. The country is full of hopo-hedges, but the animals are harassed, and we never see them. _11th March, 1867._.--Detained by a set-in rain. Marks on masses of dolomite elicited the information that a party of Londa smiths came once to this smelting ground and erected their works here. We saw an old iron furnace, and masses of haematite, which seems to have been the ore universally used. _12th March, 1867._--Rain held us back for some time, but we soon reached Chibué, a stockaded village. Like them all, it is situated by a stream, with a dense clump of trees on the waterside of some species of mangrove. They attain large size, have soft wood, and succulent leaves; the roots intertwine in the mud, and one has to watch that he does not step where no roots exist, otherwise he sinks up to the thigh. In a village the people feel that we are on their property, and crowd upon us inconveniently; but outside, where we usually erect our sheds, no such feeling exists, we are each on a level, and they don't take liberties. The Balungu are marked by three or four little knobs on the temples, and the lobes of the ears are distended by a piece of wood, which is ornamented with beads; bands of beads go across the forehead and hold up the hair. Chibué's village is at the source of the Lokwéna, which goes N. and N.E.; a long range of low hills is on our N.E., which are the Mambwé, or part of them. The Chambezé rises in them, but further south. Here the Lokwéna, round whose source we came on starting this morning to avoid wet feet, and all others north and west of this, go to the Lofu or Lobu, and into Liemba Lake. Those from the hills on our right go east into the Loanzu and so into the Lake. _15th March, 1867._--We now are making for Kasonso, the chief of the Lake, and a very large country all around it, passing the Lochenjé, five yards wide, and knee deep, then to the Chañumba. All flow very rapidly just now and are flooded with clean water. Everyone carries an axe, as if constantly warring with the forest. My long-continued fever ill disposes me to enjoy the beautiful landscape. We are evidently on the ridge, but people have not a clear conception of where the rivers run. _19th March, 1867._--A party of young men came out of the village near which we had encamped to force us to pay something for not going into their village. "The son of a great chief ought to be acknowledged," &c. They had their bows and arrows with them, and all ready for action. I told them we had remained near them because they said we could not reach Kasonso that day. Their headman had given us nothing. After talking a while, and threatening to do a deal to-morrow, they left, and through an Almighty Providence nothing was attempted. We moved on N.W. in forest, with long green tree-covered slopes on our right, and came to a village of Kasonso in a very lovely valley. Great green valleys were now scooped out, and many, as the Kakanza, run into the Lovu. _20th March, 1867._--The same features of country prevailed, indeed it was impossible to count the streams flowing N.W. We found Kasonso situated at the confluence of two streams; he shook hands a long while, and seems a frank sort of man. A shower of rain set the driver ants on the move, and about two hours after we had turned in we were overwhelmed by them. They are called Kalandu or Nkalanda. To describe this attack is utterly impossible. I wakened covered with them: my hair was full of them. One by one they cut into the flesh, and the more they are disturbed, the more vicious are their bites; they become quite insolent. I went outside the hut, but there they swarmed everywhere; they covered the legs, biting furiously; it is only when they are tired that they leave off. One good trait of the Balungu up here is, they retire when they see food brought to anyone, neither Babisa nor Makoa had this sense of delicacy: the Babemba are equally polite. We have descended considerably into the broad valley of the Lake, and it feels warmer than on the heights. Cloth here is more valuable, inasmuch as bark-cloth is scarce. The skins of goats and wild animals are used, and the kilt is very diminutive among the women. _22nd March, 1867._--Cross Loéla, thirty feet wide and one deep, and meet with tsetse fly, though we have seen none since we left Chitapangwa's. Kasonso gave us a grand reception, and we saw men present from Tanganyika; I saw cassava here, but not in plenty. _28th March, 1867._--Set-in rain and Chuma fell ill. There are cotton bushes of very large size here of the South American kind. After sleeping in various villages and crossing numerous streams, we came to Mombo's village, near the ridge overlooking the Lake. _31st March, and 1st April, 1867._--I was too ill to march through. I offered to go on the 1st, but Kasonso's son, who was with us, objected. We went up a low ridge of hills at its lowest part, and soon after passing the summit the blue water loomed through the trees. I was detained, but soon heard the boys firing their muskets on reaching the edge of the ridge, which allowed of an undisturbed view. This is the south-eastern end of Liemba, or, as it is sometimes called, Tanganyika.[50] We had to descend at least 2000 feet before we got to the level of the Lake. It seems about eighteen or twenty miles broad, and we could see about thirty miles up to the north. Four considerable rivers flow into the space before us. The nearly perpendicular ridge of about 2000 feet extends with breaks all around, and there, embosomed in tree-covered rocks, reposes the Lake peacefully in the huge cup-shaped cavity. I never saw anything so still and peaceful as it lies all the morning. About noon a gentle breeze springs up, and causes the waves to assume a bluish tinge. Several rocky islands rise in the eastern end, which are inhabited by fishermen, who capture abundance of fine large fish, of which they enumerate about twenty-four species. In the north it seems to narrow into a gateway, but the people are miserably deficient in geographical knowledge, and can tell us nothing about it. They suspect us, and we cannot get information, or indeed much of anything else. I feel deeply thankful at having got so far. I am excessively weak--cannot walk without tottering, and have constant singing in the head, but the Highest will lead me further. Lat. of the spot we touched at first, 2nd April, 1867. Lat. 8° 46' 54" S., long. 31° 57'; but I only worked out (and my head is out of order) one set of observations. Height above level of the sea over 2800 feet, by boiling-point thermometers and barometer. The people won't let me sound the Lake. After being a fortnight at this Lake it still appears one of surpassing loveliness. Its peacefulness is remarkable, though at times it is said to be lashed up by storms. It lies in a deep basin whose sides are nearly perpendicular, but covered well with trees; the rocks which appear are bright red argillaceous schist; the trees at present all green: down some of these rocks come beautiful cascades, and buffaloes, elephants, and antelopes wander and graze on the more level spots, while lions roar by night. The level place below is not two miles from the perpendicular. The village (Pambété), at which we first touched the Lake, is surrounded by palm-oil trees--not the stunted ones of Lake Nyassa, but the real West Coast palm-oil tree,[51] requiring two men to carry a bunch of the ripe fruit. In the morning and evening huge crocodiles may be observed quietly making their way to their feeding grounds; hippopotami snort by night and at early morning. After I had been a few days here I had a fit of insensibility, which shows the power of fever without medicine. I found myself floundering outside my hut and unable to get in; I tried to lift myself from my back by laying hold of two posts at the entrance, but when I got nearly upright I let them go, and fell back heavily on my head on a box. The boys had seen the wretched state I was in, and hung a blanket at the entrance of the hut, that no stranger might see my helplessness; some hours elapsed before I could recognize where I was. As for these Balungu, as they are called, they have a fear of us, they do not understand our objects, and they keep aloof. They promise everything and do nothing; but for my excessive weakness we should go on, but we wait for a recovery of strength. As people they are greatly reduced in numbers by the Mazitu, who carried off very large numbers of the women, boys, girls, and children. They train or like to see the young men arrayed as Mazitu, but it would be more profitable if they kept them to agriculture. They are all excessively polite. The clapping of hands on meeting is something excessive, and then the string of salutations that accompany it would please the most fastidious Frenchman. It implies real politeness, for in marching with them they always remove branches out of the path, and indicate stones or stumps in it carefully to a stranger, yet we cannot prevail on them to lend carriers to examine the Lake or to sell goats, of which, however, they have very few, and all on one island. The Lake discharges its water north-westward or rather nor-north-westwards. We observe weeds going in that direction, and as the Lonzua, the Kowé, the Kapata, the Luazé, the Kalambwé, flow into it near the east end, and the Lovu or Lofubu, or Lofu, from the south-west near the end it must find an exit for so much water. All these rivers rise in or near the Mambwé country, in lat. 10° S., where, too, the Chambezé rises. Liemba is said to remain of about the same size as we go north-west, but this we shall see for ourselves. Elephants come all about us. One was breaking trees close by. I fired into his ear without effect: I am too weak to hold the gun steadily. _30th April, 1867._--We begin our return march from Liemba. Slept at a village on the Lake, and went on next day to Pambété, where we first touched it. I notice that here the people pound tobacco-leaves in a mortar after they have undergone partial fermentation by lying in the sun, then they put the mass in the sun to dry for use. The reason why no palm-oil trees grow further east than Pambété is said to be the stony soil there, and this seems a valid one, for it loves rich loamy meadows. _1st May, 1867._--We intended to go north-west to see whether this Lake narrows or not, for all assert that it maintains its breadth such as we see it beyond Pemba as far as they know it; but when about to start the headman and his wife came and protested so solemnly that by going N.W. we should walk into the hands of a party of Mazitu there, that we deferred our departure. It was not with a full persuasion of the truth of the statement that I consented, but we afterwards saw good evidence that it was true, and that we were saved from being plundered. These marauders have changed their tactics, for they demand so many people, and so many cloths, and then leave. They made it known that their next scene of mulcting would be Mombo's village, and there they took twelve people--four slaves, and many cloths, then went south to the hills they inhabit. A strict watch was kept on their movements by our headman and his men. They trust to fleeing into a thicket on the west of the village should the Mazitu come. I have been informed on good authority that Kasonso was on his way to us when news arrived that his young son had died. He had sent on beer and provisions for us, but the Mazitu intervening they were consumed. The Mazitu having left we departed and slept half-way up the ridge. I had another fit of insensibility last night: the muscles of the back lose all power,[52] and there is constant singing in the ears, and inability to do the simplest sum. Cross the Aeezé (which makes the waterfall) fifteen yards wide and knee deep. The streams like this are almost innumerable. Mombo's village. It is distressingly difficult to elicit accurate information about the Lake and rivers, because the people do not think accurately. Mombo declared that two Arabs came when we were below, and inquired for us, but he denied our presence, thinking thereby to save us trouble and harm. The cotton cultivated is of the Pernambuco species, and the bushes are seven or eight feet high. Much cloth was made in these parts before the Mazitu raids began, it was striped black and white, and many shawls are seen in the country yet. It is curious that this species of cotton should be found only in the middle of this country. In going westwards on the upland the country is level and covered with scraggy forest as usual, long lines of low hills or rather ridges of denudation run. N. and S. on our east. This is called Moami country, full of elephants, but few are killed. They do much damage, eating the sorghum in the gardens unmolested. _11th May, 1867._--A short march to-day brought us to a village on the same Moami, and to avoid a Sunday in the forest we remained. The elephants had come into the village and gone all about it, and to prevent their opening the corn safes the people had bedaubed them with elephant's droppings. When a cow would not give milk, save to its calf, a like device was used at Kolobeng; the cow's droppings were smeared on the teats, and the calf was too much disgusted to suck: the cow then ran till she was distressed by the milk fever and was willing to be relieved by the herdsman. _12th and 13th May, 1867._--News that the Arabs had been fighting with Nsama came, but this made us rather anxious to get northward along Liemba, and we made for Mokambola's village near the edge of the precipice which overhangs the Lake. Many Shuaré Raphia palms grow in the river which flows past it. As we began our descent we saw the Lofu coming from the west and entering Liemba. A projection of Liemba comes to meet it, and then it is said to go away to the north or north-west as far as my informants knew. Some pointed due north, others north-west, so probably its true course amounts to N.N.W. We came to a village about 2' W. of the confluence, whose headman was affable and generous. The village has a meadow some four miles wide on the land side, in which buffaloes disport themselves, but they are very wild, and hide in the gigantic grasses. Sorghum, ground-nuts, and voandzeia grow luxuriantly. The Lofu is a quarter of a mile wide, but higher up three hundred yards. The valley was always clouded over at night so I could not get an observation except early in the morning when the cold had dissipated the clouds. We remained here because two were lame, and all tired by the descent of upwards of 2000 feet, and the headman sent for fish for us. He dissuaded us strongly from attempting to go down the Liemba, as the son of Nsania (Kapoma) was killing all who came that way in revenge for what the Arabs had done to his father's people, and he might take us for Arabs. A Suaheli Arab came in the evening and partly confirmed the statements of the headman of Karambo; I resolved therefore to go back to Chitimba's in the south, where the chief portion of the Arabs are assembled, and hear from them more certainly. The last we heard of Liemba was that at a great way north-west, it is dammed up by rocks, and where it surmounts these there is a great waterfall. It does not, it is said, diminish in size so far, but by bearings protracted it is two miles wide. _18th May, 1867._--Return to Mokambola's village, and leave for Chitimba's. Baraka stopped behind at the village, and James ran away to him, leaving his bundle, containing three chronometers, in the path: I sent back for them, and James came up in the evening; he had no complaint, and no excuse to make. The two think it will be easy to return to their own country by begging, though they could not point it out to me when we were much nearer to where it is supposed to be. _19th May, 1867._--Where we were brought to a standstill was miserably cold (55°), so we had prayers and went on S. and S.W. to the village of Chisáka. _20th May, 1867._--Chitimba's village was near in the same direction; here we found a large party of Arabs, mostly black Suahelis. They occupied an important portion of the stockaded village, and when I came in, politely showed me to a shed where they are in the habit of meeting. After explaining whence I had come, I showed them the Sultan's letter. Harnees presented a goat, two fowls, and a quantity of flour. It was difficult to get to the bottom of the Nsama affair, but according to their version that chief sent an invitation to them, and when they arrived called for his people, who came in crowds--as he said to view the strangers. I suspect that the Arabs became afraid of the crowds and began to fire; several were killed on both sides, and Nsama fled, leaving his visitors in possession of the stockaded village and all it contained. Others say that there was a dispute about an elephant, and that Nsama's people were the aggressors. At any rate it is now all confusion; those who remain at Nsama's village help themselves to food in the surrounding villages and burn them, while Chitimba has sent for the party who are quartered here to come to him. An hour or two after we arrived a body of men came from Kasonso, with the intention of proceeding into the country of Nsama, and if possible catching Nsama, "he having broken public law by attacking people who brought merchandise into the country." This new expedition makes the Arabs resolve to go and do what they can to injure their enemy. It will just be a plundering foray--each catching what he can, whether animal or human, and retiring when it is no longer safe to plunder! This throws the barrier of a broad country between me and Lake "Moero" in the west, but I trust in Providence a way will be opened. I think now of going southwards and then westwards, thus making a long détour round the disturbed district. The name of the principal Arab is Hamees Wodim Tagh, the other is Syde bin Alie bin Mansure: they are connected with one of the most influential native mercantile houses in Zanzibar. Hamees has been particularly kind to me in presenting food, beads, cloth, and getting information. Thami bin Snaelim is the Arab to whom my goods are directed at Ujiji. _24th May, 1867._--At Chitimba's we are waiting to see what events turn up to throw light on our western route. Some of the Arabs and Kasonso's men went off to-day: they will bring information perhaps as to Nsama's haunts, and then we shall move south and thence west. Wrote to Sir Thomas Maclear, giving the position of Liemba and to Dr. Seward, in case other letters miscarry. The hot season is beginning now. This corresponds to July further south. Three goats were killed by a leopard close to the village in open day. _28th May, 1867._--Information came that Nsama begged pardon of the. Arabs, and would pay all that they had lost. He did not know of his people stealing from them: we shall hear in a day or two whether the matter is to be patched up or not. While some believe his statements, others say, "Nsama's words of peace are simply to gain time to make another stockade:" in the mean time Kasonso's people will ravage all his country on this eastern side. Hamees is very anxious that I should remain a few days longer, till Kasonso's son, Kampamba, comes with _certain_ information, and then he will see to our passing safely to Chiwéré's village from Kasonso's. All have confidence in this last-named chief as an upright man. _1st June, 1867._--Another party of marauders went off this morning to plunder Nsama's country to the west of the confluence of the Lofu as a punishment for a breach of public law. The men employed are not very willing to go, but when they taste the pleasure of plunder they will relish it more! The watershed begins to have a northern slope about Moamba's, lat. 10° 10' S., but the streams are very tortuous, and the people have very confused ideas as to where they run. The Lokhopa, for instance, was asserted by all the men at Moamba's to flow into Lokholu, and then into a river going to Liemba, but a young wife of Moamba, who seemed very intelligent, maintained that Lokhopa and Lokholu went to the Chambezé; I therefore put it down thus. The streams which feed the Chambezé and the Liemba overlap each other, and it would require a more extensive survey than I can give to disentangle them. North of Moamba, on the Merengé, the slope begins to Liemba. The Lofu rises in Chibué's country, and with its tributaries we have long ridges of denudation, each some 500 or 600 feet high, and covered with green trees. The valleys of denudation enclosed by these hill ranges guide the streams towards Liemba or the four rivers which flow into it. The country gradually becomes lower, warmer, and tsetse and mosquitoes appear; so at last we come to the remarkable cup-shaped cavity in which Liemba reposes. Several streams fall down the nearly perpendicular cliffs, and form beautiful cascades. The lines of denudation are continued, one range rising behind another as far as the eye can reach to the north and east of Liemba, and probably the slope continues away down to Tanganyika. The watershed extends westwards to beyond Casembe, and the Luapula, or Chambezé, rises in the same parallels of latitude as does the Lofu and the Lonzna. The Arabs inform me that between this and the sea, about 200 miles distant, lies the country of the Wasango--called: Usango--a fair people, like Portuguese, and very friendly to strangers. The Wasango possess plenty of cattle: their chief is called Meréré.[53] They count this twenty-five days, while the distance thence to the sea at Bagamoio is one month and twenty-five days--say 440 miles. Uchéré is very far off northwards, but a man told me that he went to a salt-manufactory in that direction in eight days from Kasonso's. Meréré goes frequently on marauding expeditions for cattle, and is instigated thereto by his mother. What we understand by primeval forest is but seldom seen in the interior here, though the country cannot be described otherwise than as generally covered with interminable forests. Insects kill or dwarf some trees, and men maim others for the sake of the bark-cloth; elephants break down a great number, and it is only here and there that gigantic specimens are seen: they may be expected in shut-in valleys among mountains, but on the whole the trees are scraggy, and the varieties not great. The different sorts of birds which sing among the branches seem to me to exceed those of the Zambesi region, but I do not shoot them: the number of new notes I hear astonishes me. The country in which we now are is called by the Arabs and natives Ulungu, that farther north-west is named Marunga. Hamees is on friendly terms with the Mazitu (Watuta) in the east, who do not plunder. The chief sent a man to Kasonso lately, and he having received a present went away highly pleased. Hamees is certainly very anxious to secure my safety. Some men came from the N.E. to inquire about the disturbance here and they recommend that I should go with them, and then up the east side of the Lake to Ujiji; but that would ruin my plan of discovering Moero and afterwards following the watershed, so as to be certain that this is either the watershed of the Congo or Kile. He was not well pleased when I preferred to go south and then westwards, as it looks like rejecting his counsel; but he said if I waited till his people came, then we should be able to speak with more certainty. On inquiring if any large mountains exist in this country, I was told that Moufipa, or Fipa, opposite the lower end of the Lake, is largest--one can see Tanganyika from it. It probably gives rise to the Nkalambwé River and the Luazé. There is nothing interesting in a heathen town. All are busy in preparing food or clothing, mats or baskets, whilst the women are cleaning or grinding their corn, which involves much hard labour. They first dry this in the sun, then put it into a mortar, and afterwards with a flat basket clean off the husks and the dust, and grind it between two stones, the next thing is to bring wood and water to cook it. The chief here was aroused the other day, and threatened to burn his own house and all his property because the people stole from it, but he did not proceed so far: it was probably a way of letting the Arab dependants know that he was aroused. Some of the people who went to fight attacked a large village, and killed several men; but in shooting in a bushy place they killed one of their own party and wounded another. On inquiring of an Arab who had sailed on Tanganyika which way the water flowed, he replied to the south! The wagtails build in the thatch of the huts; they are busy, and men and other animals are active in the same way. I am rather perplexed how to proceed. Some Arabs seem determined to go westwards as soon as they can make it up with Nsama, whilst others distrust him. One man will send his people to pick up what ivory they can, but he himself will retire to the Usango country. Nsama is expected to-day or to-morrow. It would be such a saving of time and fatigue for us to go due west rather than south, and then west, but I feel great hesitation as to setting out on the circuitous route. Several Arabs came from the Liemba side yesterday; one had sailed on Tanganyika, and described the winds there as very baffling, but no one of them has a clear idea of the Lake. They described the lower part as a "sea," and thought it different from Tanganyika. Close observation of the natives of Ulungu makes me believe them to be extremely polite. The mode of salutation among relatives is to place the hands round each other's chests kneeling, they then clap their hands close to the ground. Some more abject individuals kiss the soil before a chief; the generality kneel only, with the fore-arms close to the ground, and the head bowed down to them, saying, "O Ajadla chiusa, Mari a bwino." The Usanga say, "Ajé senga." The clapping of hands to superiors, and even equals, is in some villages a perpetually recurring sound. Aged persons are usually saluted: how this extreme deference to each other could have arisen, I cannot conceive; it does not seem to be fear of each other that elicits it. Even the chiefs inspire no fear, and those cruel old platitudes about governing savages by fear seem unknown, yet governed they certainly are, and upon the whole very well. The people were not very willing to go to punish Nsama's breach of public law, yet, on the decision of the chiefs, they went, and came back, one with a wooden stool, another with a mat, a third with a calabash of ground-nuts or some dried meat, a hoe, or a bow--poor, poor pay for a fortnight's hard work hunting fugitives and burning villages. _16th June, 1867._--News came to-day that an Arab party in the south-west, in Lunda, lost about forty people by the small-pox ("ndué"), and that the people there, having heard of the disturbance with Nsama, fled from the Arabs, and would sell neither ivory nor food: this looks like another obstacle to our progress thither. _17th-19th June, 1867._--Hamees went to meet the party from the south-west, probably to avoid bringing the small-pox here. They remain at about two hours' distance. Hamees reports that though the strangers had lost a great many people by small-pox, they had brought good news of certain Arabs still further west: one, Seide ben Umale, or Salem, lived at a village near Casembe, ten days distant, and another, Juma Merikano, or Katata Katanga, at another village further north, and Seide ben Habib was at Phueto, which is nearer Tanganyika. This party comprises the whole force of Hamees, and he now declares that he will go to Nsama and make the matter up, as he thinks that he is afraid to come here, and so he will make the first approach to friendship. On pondering over the whole subject, I see that, tiresome as it is to wait, it is better to do so than go south and then west, for if I should go I shall miss seeing Moero, which is said to be three days from Nsama's present abode. His people go there for salt, and I could not come to it from the south without being known to them, and perhaps considered to be an Arab. Hamees remarked that it was the Arab way first to smooth the path before entering upon it; sending men and presents first, thereby ascertaining the disposition of the inhabitants. He advises patience, and is in hopes of making a peace with Nsama. That his hopes are not unreasonable, he mentioned that when the disturbance began, Nsama sent men with two tusks to the village whence he had just been expelled, offering thereby to make the matter up, but the Arabs, suspecting treachery, fired upon the carriers and killed them, then ten goats and one tusk were sent with the same object, and met with a repulse; Hamees thinks that had he been there himself the whole matter would have been settled amicably. All complain of cold here. The situation is elevated, and we are behind a clump of trees on the rivulet Chiloa, which keeps the sun off us in the mornings. This cold induces the people to make big fires in their huts, and frequently their dwellings are burned. Minimum temperature is as low as 46°; sometimes 33°. _24th June, 1867._--The Arabs are all busy reading their Koran, or Kurán, and in praying for direction; to-morrow they will call a meeting to deliberate as to what steps they will take in the Nsama affair. Hamees, it seems, is highly thought of by that chief, who says, "Let him come, and all will be right." Hamees proposes to go with but a few people. These Zanzibar men are very different from the slavers of the Waiyau country. _25th June, 1867._--The people, though called, did not assemble, but they will come to-morrow. Young wagtails nearly full-fledged took wing, leaving one in the nest; from not being molested by the people they took no precautions, and ran out of the nest on the approach of the old ones, making a loud chirping. The old ones tried to induce the last one to come out too, by flying to the nest, and then making a sally forth, turning round immediately to see if he followed: he took a few days longer. It was decided at the meeting that Hamees, with a few people only, should go to Nsama on the first day after the appearance of the new moon (they are very particular on this point); the present month having been an unhappy one they will try the next. _28th June, 1867._--A wedding took place among the Arabs to-day. About a hundred blank cartridges were fired off, and a procession of males, dressed in their best, marched through the village. They sang with all their might, though with but little music in the strain. Women sprinkled grain on their heads as wishes for plenty.[54] Nsama is said to be waiting for the Arabs in his new stockade. It is impossible to ascertain exactly who is to blame in this matter, for I hear one side only; but the fact of the chiefs in this part of the country turning out so readily to punish his breach of public law, and no remonstrance coming from him, makes me suspect that Nsama is the guilty party. If he had been innocent he certainly would have sent to ask the Bulungu, or Bäulungu, why they had attacked his people without cause. [Here is an entry concerning the tribe living far to the East.] The Wasongo seem much like Zulus; they go naked, and have prodigious numbers of cattle, which occupy the same huts with their owners. Oxen two shukahs each; plenty of milk. Meréré is very liberal with his cattle, and gives every one an ox: there is no rice, but maize and maëre. Hamees left the people to cultivate rice. Meréré had plenty of ivory when the Arabs came first, but now has none. _1st July, 1867._--New moon to-day. They are very particular as to the time of offering up prayers, and in making charms. One to-night was at 10 P.M. exactly. A number of cabalistic figures were drawn by Halfani, and it is believed that by these Nsama's whereabouts may be ascertained; they are probably remains of the secret arts which prevailed among Arabs before Mahomet appeared. These Suaheli Arabs appear to have come down the coast before that Prophet was born. _3rd July, 1867._--Kasonso's people are expected. All the captives that were taken are to be returned, and a quantity of cloth given to Nsama in addition: so far all seems right. The new moon will appear to-night. The Arabs count from one appearance to the next, not, as we do, from its conjunction with the sun to the next. _4th July, 1867._--Katawanya came from near Liemba to join the peacemakers. He and his party arrived at Liemba after we did; he sent his people all round to seek ivory; they don't care for anything but ivory, and cannot understand why I don't do the same. _6th July, 1867._--An earthquake happened at 3.30 P.M., accompanied with a hollow rumbling sound; it made me feel as if afloat, but it lasted only a few seconds. The boys came running to ask me what it was. Nowhere could it be safer; the huts will not fall, and there are no high rocks near. Barometer 25.0. Temperature 68° 5'. Heavy cumuli hanging about; no rain afterwards. _7th July, 1867._--Hamees started this morning with about 300 followers dressed in all their finery, and he declares that his sole object is peace. Kasonso, Mombo, Chitimba send their people, and go themselves to lend all their influence in favour of peace. Syde stops here. Before starting Syde put some incense on hot coals, and all the leaders of the party joined in a short prayer; they seem earnest and sincere in their incantations, according to their knowledge and belief. I wished to go too, but Hamees objected, as not being quite sure whether Nsama would be friendly, and he would not like anything to befall me when with him. _8th July, 1867._--Kasonso found an excuse for not going himself. Two men, Arabs it was said, came to Chibué's and were there killed, and Kasonso must go to see about it. The people who go carry food with them, evidently not intending to live by plunder this time. While the peacemakers are gone I am employing time in reading Smith's 'Bible Dictionary,' and calculating different positions which have stood over in travelling. I don't succeed well in the Bäulungu dialect. The owners of huts lent to strangers have a great deal of toil in consequence; they have to clean them after the visitors have withdrawn; then, in addition to this, to clean themselves, all soiled by the dust left by the lodgers; their bodies and clothes have to be cleansed afterwards--they add food too in all cases of acquaintanceship, and then we have to remember the labour of preparing that food. My remaining here enables me to observe that both men and women are in almost constant employment. The men are making mats, or weaving, or spinning; no one could witness their assiduity in their little affairs and conclude that they were a lazy people. The only idle time I observe here is in the mornings about seven o'clock, when all come and sit to catch the first rays of the sun as he comes over our clump of trees, but even that time is often taken as an opportunity for stringing beads. I hear that some of Nsama's people crossed the Lovu at Karambo to plunder, in retaliation for what they have suffered, and the people there were afraid to fish, lest they should be caught by them at a distance from their stockades. The Bäulungu men are in general tall and well formed, they use bows over six feet in length, and but little bent. The facial angle is as good in most cases as in Europeans, and they have certainly as little of the "lark-heel" as whites. One or two of the under front teeth are generally knocked out in women, and also in men. _14th July, 1867._--Syde added to his other presents some more beads: all have been very kind, which I attribute in a great measure to Seyed Majid's letter. Hamees crossed the Lovu to-day at a fordable spot. The people on the other side refused to go with a message to Nsama, so Hamees had to go and compel them by destroying their stockade. A second village acted in the same way, though told that it was only peace that was sought of Nsama: this stockade suffered the same fate, and then the people went to Nsama, and he showed no reluctance to have intercourse. He gave abundance of food, pombe, and bananas; the country being extremely fertile. Nsama also came and ratified the peace by drinking blood with several of the underlings of Hamees. He is said to be an enormously bloated old man, who cannot move unless carried, and women are constantly in attendance pouring pombe into him. He gave Hamees ten tusks, and promised him twenty more, and also to endeavour to make his people return what goods they plundered from the Arabs, and he is to send his people over here to call us after the new moon appears. It is tiresome beyond measure to wait so long, but I hope to see Moero for this exercise of patience, and I could not have visited it had Hamees not succeeded in making peace. _17th July, 1867._--A lion roared very angrily at the village last night, he was probably following the buffaloes that sometimes come here to drink at night: they are all very shy, and so is all the game, from fear of arrows. A curious disease has attacked my left eyelid and surrounding parts: a slight degree of itchiness is followed by great swelling of the part. It must be a sort of lichen; exposure to the sun seems to cure it, and this leads me to take long walks therein. This is about 30° 19' E. long.; lat. 8° 57' 55" S. _24th July, 1867._--A fire broke out at 4 A.M., and there being no wind the straw roofs were cleared off in front of it on our side of the village. The granaries were easily unroofed, as the roof is not attached to the walls, and the Arabs tried to clear a space on their side, but were unable, and then moved all their ivory and goods outside the stockade; their side of the village was all consumed, and three goats perished in the flames. Chitimba has left us from a fear of his life, he says; it is probable that he means this flight to be used as an excuse to Nsama after we are gone. "And I, too, was obliged to flee from my village to save my life! What could I do?" This is to be his argument, I suspect. A good many slaves came from the two villages that were destroyed: on inquiry I was told that these would be returned when Nsama gave the ivory promised. When Nsama was told that an Englishman wished to go past him to Moero, he replied, "Bring him, and I shall send men to take him thither." Hamees is building a "tembé," or house, with a flat roof, and walls plastered over with mud, to keep his ivory from fire while he is absent. We expect that Nsama will send for us a few days after the 2nd August, when the new moon appears; if they do not come soon Hamees will send men to Nsama without waiting for his messengers. _28th July, 1867._--Prayers, with the Litany.[55] Slavery is a great evil wherever I have seen it. A poor old woman and child are among the captives, the boy about three years old seems a mother's pet. His feet are sore from walking in the sun. He was offered for two fathoms, and his mother for one fathom; he understood it all, and cried bitterly, clinging to his mother. She had, of course, no power to help him; they were separated at Karungu afterwards. [The above is an episode of every-day occurrence in the wake of the slave-dealer. "Two fathoms," mentioned as the price of the boy's life--the more valuable of the two, means four yards of unbleached calico, which is a universal article of barter throughout the greater part of Africa: the mother was bought for two yards. The reader must not think that there are no lower prices; in the famines which succeed the slave-dealer's raids, boys and girls are at times to be purchased by the dealer for a few handfuls of maize.] _29th July, 1867._--Went 2 1/2 hours west to village of Ponda, where a head Arab, called by the natives Tipo Tipo, lives; his name is Hamid bin Mahamed bin Juma Borajib. He presented a goat, a piece of white calico, and four big bunches of beads, also a bag of Holcus sorghum, and apologised because it was so little. He had lost much by Nsama; and received two arrow wounds there; they had only twenty guns at the time, but some were in the stockade, and though the people of Nsama were very numerous they beat them off, and they fled carrying the bloated carcase of Nsama with them. Some reported that boxes were found in the village, which belonged to parties who had perished before, but Syde assured me that this was a mistake. Moero is three days distant, and as Nsama's people go thither to collect salt on its banks, it would have been impossible for me to visit it from the south without being seen, and probably suffering loss. The people seem to have no family names. A man takes the name of his mother, or should his father die he may assume that. Marriage is forbidden to the first, second, and third degrees: they call first and second cousins brothers and sisters. A woman, after cupping her child's temples for sore eyes, threw the blood over the roof of her hut as a charm. [In the above process a goat's horn is used with a small hole in the pointed end. The base is applied to the part from which the blood is to be withdrawn, and the operator, with a small piece of chewed india-rubber in his mouth, exhausts the air, and at the proper moment plasters the small hole up with his tongue. When the cupping-horn is removed, some cuts are made with a small knife, and it is again applied. As a rough appliance, it is a very good one, and in great repute everywhere.] FOOTNOTES: [50] It subsequently proved to be the southern extremity of this great Lake. [51] Elais, sp.(?). [52] This is a common symptom--men will suddenly lose all power in the lower extremities, and remain helpless where they fall.--ED. [53] The men heard in 1873 that he had been killed. [54] This comes near to the custom of throwing rice after the bride and bridegroom in England.--ED. [55] In his Journal the Doctor writes "S," and occasionally "Service," whenever a Sunday entry occurs. We may add that at all times during his travels the Services of the Church of England were resorted to by him.--ED. CHAPTER IX. Peace negotiations with Nsama. Geographical gleanings. Curious spider. Reach the River Lofu. Arrives at Nsama's. Hamees marries the daughter of Nsama. Flight of the bride. Conflagration in Arab quarters. Anxious to visit Lake Moero. Arab burial. Serious illness. Continues journey. Slave-traders on the march. Reaches Moero. Description of the Lake. Information concerning the Chambezé and Luapula. Hears of Lake Bemba. Visits spot of Dr. Lacerda's death. Casembe apprised of Livingstone's approach. Meets Mohamad Bogharib. Lakelet Mofwé. Arrives at Casembe's town. _1st August, 1867._--Hamees sends off men to trade at Chiweré's. _Zikwé_ is the name for locust here. Nsigé or Zigé and Pansi the Suaheli names. A perforated stone had been placed on one of the poles which form the gateway into this stockade, it is oblong, seven or eight inches long by four broad, and bevelled off on one side and the diameter of the hole in the middle is about an inch and a half: it shows evidence of the boring process in rings. It is of hard porphyry and of a pinkish hue, and resembles somewhat a weight for a digging stick I saw in 1841 in the hands of a Bushwoman: I saw one at a gateway near Kasonso's. The people know nothing of its use except as a charm to keep away evil from the village. _2nd August, 1867._--Chronometer A. stopped to-day without any apparent cause except the earthquake. It is probably malaria which causes that constant singing in the ears ever since my illness at Lake Liemba. _3rd August, 1867._--We expect a message from Nsama every day, the new moon having appeared on the first of this month, and he was to send after its appearance. _5th August, 1867._--Men came yesterday with the message that Hamees must wait a little longer, as Nsama had not yet got all the ivory and the goods which were stolen: they remained over yesterday. The headman, Katala, says that Lunda is eight days from Nsama or Moero, and in going we cross a large river called Movue, which flows into Luapula; another river called Mokobwa comes from the south-east into Moero. Itawa is the name of Nsama's country and people. A day distant from Nsama's place there is a hot fountain called "Paka pezhia," and around it the earth shakes at times: it is possible that the earthquake we felt here may be connected with this same centre of motion. _6th August, 1867._--The weather is becoming milder. An increase of cold was caused by the wind coming from the south. We have good accounts of the Wasongo from all the Arabs, their houses built for cattle are flat-roofed and enormously large; one, they say, is a quarter of a mile long. Meréré the chief has his dwelling-house within it: milk, butter, cheese, are in enormous quantities; the tribe, too, is very large. I fear that they may be spoiled by the Arab underlings. _7th August, 1867._--Some of my people went down to Karambo and were detained by the chief, who said "I won't let you English go away and leave me in trouble with these Arabs." A slave had been given in charge to a man here and escaped, the Arabs hereupon went to Karambo and demanded payment from the chief there; he offered clothing, but they refused it, and would have a man; he then offered a man, but this man having two children they demanded all three. They bully as much as they please by their fire-arms. After being spoken to by my people the Arabs came away. The chief begged that I would come and visit him once more, for only one day, but it is impossible, for we expect to move directly. I sent the information to Hamees, who replied that they had got a clue to the man who was wiling away their slaves from them. My people saw others of the low squad which always accompanies the better-informed Arabs bullying the people of another village, and taking fowls and food without payment. Slavery makes a bad neighbourhood! Hamees is on friendly terms with a tribe of Mazitu who say that they have given up killing people. They lifted a great many cattle, but have very few now; some of them came with him to show the way to Kasonso's. Slaves are sold here in the same open way that the business is carried on in Zanzibar slave-market. A man goes about calling out the price he wants for the slave, who walks behind him; if a woman, she is taken into a hut to be examined in a state of nudity. Some of the Arabs believe that meteoric stones are thrown at Satan for his wickedness. They believe that cannon were taken up Kilimanjaro by the first Arabs who came into the country, and there they lie. They deny that Van der Decken did more than go round a portion of the base of the mountain; he could not get on the mass of the mountain: all his donkeys and some of his men died by the cold. Hamees seems to be Cooley's great geographical oracle! The information one can cull from the Arabs respecting the country on the north-west is very indefinite. They magnify the difficulties in the way by tales of the cannibal tribes, where anyone dying is bought and no one ever buried, but this does not agree with the fact, which also is asserted, that the cannibals have plenty of sheep and goats. The Rua is about ten days west of Tanganyika, and five days beyond it a lake or river ten miles broad is reached; it is said to be called Logarawá. All the water flows northwards, but no reliance can be placed on the statements. Kiombo is said to be chief of Rua country. Another man asserts that Tanganyika flows northwards and forms a large water beyond Uganda, but no dependence can be placed on the statements of these half Arabs; they pay no attention to anything but ivory and food. _25th August, 1867._--Nsama requested the Arabs to give back his son who was captured; some difficulty was made about this by his captor, but Hamees succeeded in getting him and about nine others, and they are sent off to-day. We wait only for the people, who are scattered about the country. Hamees presented cakes, flour, a fowl and leg of goat, with a piece of eland meat: this animal goes by the same name here as at Kolobeng--"Pofu."[56] A fig-tree here has large knobs on the bark, like some species of acacia; and another looks like the Malolo of the Zambesi magnified. A yellow wood gives an odour like incense when burned. A large spider makes a nest inside the huts. It consists of a piece of pure white paper, an inch and a half broad, stuck flat on the wall; under this some forty or fifty eggs are placed, and then a quarter of an inch of thinner paper is put round it, apparently to fasten the first firmly. When making the paper the spider moves itself over the surface in wavy lines; she then sits on it with her eight legs spread over all for three weeks continuously, catching and eating any insects, as cockroaches, that come near her nest. After three weeks she leaves it to hunt for food, but always returns at night: the natives do not molest it. A small ant masters the common fly by seizing a wing or leg, and holding on till the fly is tired out; at first the fly can move about on the wing without inconvenience, but it is at last obliged to succumb to an enemy very much smaller than itself. A species of Touraco, new to me, has a broad yellow mask on the upper part of the bill and forehead; the topknot is purple, the wings the same as in other species, but the red is roseate. The yellow of the mask plates is conspicuous at a distance. A large callosity forms on the shoulders of the regular Unyamwesi porters, from the heavy weights laid on them. I have noticed them an inch and a half thick along the top of the shoulders. An old man was pointed out to me who had once carried five frasilahs (= 175 lbs.) of ivory from his own country to the coast. _30th August, 1867._--We marched to-day from Chitimba's village after three months and ten days' delay. On reaching Ponda, 2-1/2 hours distant, we found Tipo Tipo, or Hamidi bin Mohamad, gone on, and so we followed him. Passed a fine stream flowing S.W. to the Lofu. Tipo Tipo gave me a fine fat goat. _31st August, 1867._--Pass along a fine undulating district, with much country covered with forest, but many open glades, and fine large trees along the water-courses. We were on the northern slope of the watershed, and could see far. Crossed two fine rivulets. The oozes still full and flowing. _1st September, 1867._--We had to march in the afternoon on account of a dry patch existing in the direct way. We slept without water, though by diverging a few miles to the north we should have crossed many streams, but this is the best path for the whole year. Baraka went back to Tipo Tipo's village, thus putting his intention of begging among the Arab slaves into operation. He has only one complaint, and that is dislike to work. He tried perseveringly to get others to run away with him; lost the medicine-box, six table-cloths, and all our tools by giving his load off to a country lad while he went to collect mushrooms: he will probably return to Zanzibar, and be a slave to the Arab slaves after being a perpetual nuisance to us for upwards of a year. _2nd September, 1867._--When we reached the ford of the Lofu, we found that we were at least a thousand feet below Chitimba's. The last six hours of our march were without water, but when near to Chungu's village at the ford we came to fine flowing rivulets, some ten feet or so broad. Here we could see westwards and northwards the long lines of hills of denudation in Nsama's country, which till lately was densely peopled. Nsama is of the Babemba family. Kasonso, Chitimba, Kiwé, Urongwé, are equals and of one family, Urungai. Chungu is a pleasant person, and liberal according to his means. Large game is very abundant through all this country. The Lofu at the ford was 296 feet, the water flowing briskly over hardened sandstone flag, and from thigh to waist deep; elsewhere it is a little narrower, but not passable except by canoes. _4th and 5th September, 1867._--Went seven hours west of the Lofu to a village called Hara, one of those burned by Hamees because the people would not take a peaceful message to Nsama. This country is called Itawa, and Hara is one of the districts. We waited at Hara to see if Nsama wished us any nearer to himself. He is very much afraid of the Arabs, and well he may be, for he was until lately supposed to be invincible. He fell before twenty muskets, and this has caused a panic throughout the country. The land is full of food, though the people have nearly all fled. The ground-nuts are growing again for want of reapers; and 300 people living at free-quarters make no impression on the food. _9th September, 1867._--Went three hours west of Hara, and came to Nsama's new stockade, built close by the old one burned by Tipo Tipo, as Hamidi bin Mohamed was named by Nsama.[57] I sent a message to Nsama, and received an invitation to come and visit him, but bring no guns. A large crowd of his people went with us, and before we came to the inner stockade they felt my clothes to see that no fire-arms were concealed about my person. When we reached Nsama, we found a very old man, with a good head and face and a large abdomen, showing that he was addicted to pombe: his people have to carry him. I gave him a cloth, and asked for guides to Moero, which he readily granted, and asked leave to feel my clothes and hair. I advised him to try and live at peace, but his people were all so much beyond the control of himself and headmen, that at last, after scolding them, he told me that he would send for me by night, and then we could converse, but this seems to have gone out of his head. He sent me a goat, flour, and pombe, and next day we returned to Hara. Nsama's people have generally small, well-chiseled features, and many are really handsome, and have nothing of the West Coast Negro about them, but they file their teeth to sharp points, and greatly disfigure their mouths. The only difference between them and Europeans is the colour. Many of the men have very finely-formed heads, and so have the women; and the fashion of wearing the hair sets off their foreheads to advantage. The forehead is shaved off to the crown, the space narrowing as it goes up; then the back hair, is arranged into knobs of about ten rows. _10th September, 1867._--Some people of Ujiji have come to Nsama's to buy ivory with beads, but, finding that the Arabs have forestalled them in the market, they intend to return in their dhow, or rather canoe, which is manned by about fifty hands. My goods are reported safe, and the meat of the buffaloes which died in the way is there, and sun-dried. I sent a box, containing papers, books, and some clothes, to Ujiji. _14th September, 1867._--I remained at Hara, for I was ill, and Hamees had no confidence in Nsama, because he promised his daughter to wife by way of cementing the peace, but had not given her. Nsama also told Hamees to stay at Hara, and he would send him ivory for sale, but none came, nor do people come here to sell provisions, as they do elsewhere; so Hamees will return to Chitimba's, to guard his people and property there, and send on Syde Hamidi and his servants to Lopéré, Kabuiré, and Moero, to buy ivory. He advised me to go with them, as he has no confidence in Nsama; and Hamidi thought that this was the plan to be preferred: it would be slower, as they would purchase ivory on the road, but safer to pass his country altogether than trust myself in his power. The entire population of the country has received a shock from the conquest of Nsama, and their views of the comparative values of bows and arrows and guns have undergone a great change. Nsama was the Napoleon of these countries; no one could stand before him, hence the defeat of the invincible Nsama has caused a great panic. The Arabs say that they lost about fifty men in all: Nsama must have lost at least an equal number. The people seem intelligent, and will no doubt act on the experience so dearly bought. In the midst of the doubts of Hamees a daughter of Nsama came this afternoon to be a wife and cementer of the peace! She came riding "pickaback" on a man's shoulders; a nice, modest, good-looking young woman, her hair rubbed all over with _nkola_, a red pigment, made from the camwood, and much used as an ornament. She was accompanied by about a dozen young and old female attendants, each carrying a small basket with some provisions, as cassava, ground-nuts, &c. The Arabs were all dressed in their finery, and the slaves, in fantastic dresses, flourished swords, fired guns, and yelled. When she was brought to Hamees' hut she descended, and with her maids went into the hut. She and her attendants had all small, neat features. I had been sitting with Hamees, and now rose up and went away; as I passed him, he spoke thus to himself: "Hamees Wadim Tagh! see to what you have brought yourself!!" _15th September, 1867._--A guide had come from Nsama to take us to the countries beyond his territory. Hamees set off this morning with his new wife to his father-in-law, but was soon met by two messengers, who said that he was not to come yet. We now sent for all the people who were out to go west or north-west without reference to Nsama. _16th-18th September, 1867._--Hamidi went to Nsama to try and get guides, but he would not let him come into his stockade unless he came up to it without either gun or sword. Hamidi would not go in on these conditions, but Nsama promised guides, and they came after a visit by Hamees to Nsama, which he paid without telling any of us: he is evidently ashamed of his father-in-law. Those Arabs who despair of ivory invest their remaining beads and cloth in slaves. _20th September, 1867._--I had resolved to go to Nsama's, and thence to Moero to-day, but Hamees sent to say that men had come, and we were all to go with them on the 22nd. Nsama was so vacillating that I had no doubt but this was best. Hamees' wife, seeing the preparations that were made for starting, thought that her father was to be attacked, so she, her attendants, and the guides decamped by night. Hamees went again to Nsama and got other guides to enable us to go off at once. _22nd September, 1867._--We went north for a couple of hours, then descended into the same valley as that in which I found Nsama. This valley is on the slope of the watershed, and lies east and west: a ridge of dark-red sandstone, covered with trees, forms its side on the south. Other ridges like this make the slope have the form of a stair with huge steps: the descent is gradually lost as we insensibly climb up the next ridge. The first plain between the steps is at times swampy, and the paths are covered with the impressions of human feet, which, being hardened by the sun, make walking on their uneven surface very difficult. Mosquitoes again; we had lost them during our long stay on the higher lands behind us. _23rd September, 1867._--A fire had broken out the night after we left Hara, and the wind being strong, it got the upper hand, and swept away at once the whole of the temporary village of dry straw huts: Hamees lost all his beads, guns, powder, and cloth, except one bale. The news came this morning, and prayers were at once offered for him with incense; some goods will also be sent, as a little incense was. The prayer-book was held in the smoke of the incense while the responses were made. These Arabs seem to be very religious in their way: the prayers were chiefly to Harasji, some relative of Mohamad. _24th September, 1867._--Roused at 3 A.M. to be told that the next stage had no water, and we should be oppressed with the midday heat if we went now. We were to go at 2 P.M. Hamidi's wife being ill yesterday put a stop to our march on that afternoon. After the first hour we descended from the ridge to which we had ascended, we had then a wall of tree-covered rocks on our left of more than a thousand feet in altitude; after flanking it for a while we went up, and then along it northwards till it vanished in forest. Slept without a fresh supply of water. _25th September, 1867._--Off at 5.30 A.M., through the same well-grown forest we have passed and came to a village stockade, where the gates were shut, and the men all outside, in fear of the Arabs; we then descended from the ridge on which it stood, about a thousand feet, into an immense plain, with a large river in the distance, some ten miles off. _26th September, 1867._--Two and a half hours brought us to the large river we saw yesterday; it is more than a mile wide and full of papyrus and other aquatic plants and very difficult to ford, as the papyrus roots are hard to the bare feet, and we often plunged into holes up to the waist. A loose mass floated in the middle of our path; one could sometimes get on along this while it bent and heaved under the weight, but through it he would plunge and find great difficulty to get out: the water under this was very cold from evaporation; it took an hour and a half to cross it. It is called Chiséra, and winds away to the west to fall into the Kalongosi and Moero. Many animals, as elephants, tahetsis, zebras, and buffaloes, graze on the long sloping banks of about a quarter of a mile down, while the ranges of hills we crossed as mere ridges now appear behind us in the south. _27th September, 1867._--The people are numerous and friendly. One elephant was killed, and we remained to take the ivory from the dead beast; buffaloes and zebras were also killed. It was so cloudy that no observations could be taken to determine our position, but Chiséra rises in Lopéré. Further west it is free of papyrus, and canoes are required to cross it. _28th September, 1867._--Two hours north brought us to the Kamosenga, a river eight yards wide, of clear water which ran strongly among aquatic plants. Hippopotami, buffalo, and zebra abound. This goes into the Chiséra eastwards; country flat and covered with dense tangled bush. Cassias and another tree of the pea family are now in flower, and perfume the air. Other two hours took us round a large bend of this river. _30th September, 1867._.--We crossed the Kamosenga or another, and reach Karungu's. The Kamosenga divides Lopéré from Itawa, the latter being Nsama's country; Lopéré is north-west of it. _1st October, 1867._--Karungu was very much afraid of us; he kept every one out of his stockade at first, but during the time the Arabs sent forward to try and conciliate other chiefs he gradually became more friendly. He had little ivory to sell, and of those who had, Mtété or Mtéma seemed inclined to treat the messengers roughly. Men were also sent to Nsama asking him to try and induce Mtéma and Chikongo to be friendly and sell ivory and provisions, but he replied that these chiefs were not men under him, and if they thought themselves strong enough to contend against guns he had nothing to say to them. Other chiefs threatened to run away as soon as they saw the Arabs approaching. These were assured that we meant to pass through the country alone, and if they gave us guides to show us how, we should avoid the villages altogether, and proceed to the countries where ivory was to be bought; however, the panic was too great, no one would agree to our overtures, and at last when we did proceed a chief on the River Choma fulfilled his threat and left us three empty villages. There were no people to sell though the granaries were crammed, and it was impossible to prevent the slaves from stealing. _3rd-4th October, 1867._--When Chikongo heard Tipo Tipo's message about buying ivory he said, "And when did Tipo Tipo place ivory in my country that he comes seeking it?" Yet he sent a tusk and said "That is all I have, and he is not to come here." Their hostile actions are caused principally by fear. "If Nsama could not stand before the Malongwana or traders, how can we face them?" I wished to go on to Moero, but all declare that our ten guns would put all the villages to flight: they are terror-struck. First rains of this season on the 5th. _10th October, 1867._--I had a long conversation with Syde, who thinks that the sun rises and sets because the Koran says so, and he sees it. He asserts that Jesus foretold the coming of Mohamad; and that it was not Jesus who suffered on the cross but a substitute, it being unlikely that a true prophet would be put to death so ignominiously. He does not understand how we can be glad that our Saviour died for our sins. _12th October, 1867._--An elephant killed by Tipo Tipo's men. It is always clouded over, and often not a breath of air stirring. _16th October, 1867._--A great many of the women of this district and of Lopéré have the swelled thyroid gland called _goitre_ or Derbyshire neck; men, too, appeared with it, and they in addition have hydrocele of large size. An Arab who had been long ill at Chitimba's died yesterday, and was buried in the evening. No women were allowed to come near. A long silent prayer was uttered over the corpse when it was laid beside the grave, and then a cloth was held over as men in it deposited the remains beneath sticks placed slanting on the side of the bottom of the grave; this keeps the earth from coming directly into contact with the body. A feast was made by the friends of the departed, and portions sent to all who had attended the funeral: I got a good share. _18th October, 1867._--The last we hear of Nsama is that he will not interfere with Chikongo. Two wives beat drums and he dances to them; he is evidently in his dotage. We hear of many Arabs to the west of us. _20th October, 1867._--Very ill; I am always so when I have no work--sore bones--much headache; then lost power over the muscles of the back, as at Liemba; no appetite and much thirst. The fever uninfluenced by medicine. _21st October, 1867._--Syde sent his men to build a new hut in a better situation. I hope it may be a healthful one for me. _22nd October, 1867._--The final message from Chikongo was a discouraging one--no ivory. The Arabs, however, go west with me as far as Chisawé's, who, being accustomed to Arabs from Tanganyika, will give me men to take me on to Moero: the Arabs will then return, and we shall move on. _23rd October, 1867._--Tipo Tipo gave Karungu some cloth, and this chief is "looking for something" to give him in return; this detains us one day more. When a slave wishes to change his master he goes to one whom he likes better and breaks a spear or a bow in his presence--the transference is irrevocable. This curious custom prevails on the Zambesi, and also among the Wanyamwesi; if the old master wishes to recover his slave the new one may refuse to part with him except when he gets his full price: a case of this kind happened here yesterday. _25th October, 1867._--Authority was found in the Koran for staying one day more here. This was very trying; but the fact was our guide from Hara hither had enticed a young slave girl to run away, and he had given her in charge to one of his countrymen, who turned round and tried to secure her for himself, and gave information about the other enticing her away. Nothing can be more tedious than the Arab way of travelling. _26th October, 1867._--We went S.W. for five hours through an undulating, well-wooded, well-peopled country, and quantities of large game. Several trees give out when burned very fine scents; others do it when cut. Euphorbia is abundant. We slept by a torrent which had been filled with muddy water by late rains. It thunders every afternoon, and rains somewhere as regularly as it thunders, but these are but partial rains; they do not cool the earth; nor fill the cracks made in the dry season. _27th October, 1867._--Off early in a fine drizzling rain, which continued for two hours, and came on to a plain about three miles broad, full of large game. These plains are swamps at times, and they are flanked by ridges of denudation some 200 or 300 feet above them, and covered with trees. The ridges are generally hardened sandstone, marked with madrepores, and masses of brown haematite. It is very hot, and we become very tired. There is no system in the Arab marches. The first day was five hours, this 3-1/2 hours; had it been reversed--short marches during the first days and longer afterwards--the muscles would have become inured to the exertion. A long line of heights on our south points to the valley of Nsama. _28th October, 1867._--Five hours brought us to the Choma River and the villages of Chifupa, but, as already mentioned, the chief and people had fled, and no persuasion could prevail on them to come and sell us food. We showed a few who ventured to come among us what we were willing to give for flour, but they said, "Yes, we will call the women and they will sell." None came. Rested all day on the banks of the Choma, which is a muddy stream coming from the north and going to the south-west to join the Chiséra. It has worn itself a deep bed in the mud of its banks, and is twenty yards wide and in some spots waist deep, at other parts it is unfordable, it contains plenty of fish, and hippopotami and crocodiles abound. I bought a few ground-nuts at an exorbitant price, the men evidently not seeing that it would have been better to part with more at a lower price than run off and leave all to be eaten by the slaves. _30th October, 1867._--Two ugly images were found in huts built for them: they represent in a poor way the people of the country, and are used in rain-making and curing the sick ceremonies; this is the nearest approach to idol worship I have seen in the country.[58] _31st October, 1867._--We marched over a long line of hills on our west, and in five and a half hours came to some villages where the people sold us food willingly, and behaved altogether in a friendly way. We were met by a herd of buffaloes, but Syde seized my gun from the boy who carried it, and when the animals came close past me I was powerless, and not at all pleased with the want of good sense shown by my usually polite Arab friend. _Note_.--The Choma is said by Mohamad bin Saleh to go into Tanganyika (??). It goes to Kalongosi. _1st November, 1867._--We came along between ranges of hills considerably higher than those we have passed in Itawa or Nsama's country, and thickly covered with trees, some in full foliage, and some putting forth fresh red leaves; the hills are about 700 or 800 feet above the valleys. This is not a district of running rills: we crossed three sluggish streamlets knee deep. Buffaloes are very numerous. The Ratel covers the buffalo droppings with earth in order to secure the scavenger beetles which bury themselves therein, thus he prevents them from rolling a portion away as usual. We built our sheds on a hillside. Our course was west and 6-1/4 hours. _2nd November, 1867._--Still in the same direction, and in an open valley remarkable for the numbers of a small euphorbia, which we smashed at every step. Crossed a small but strong rivulet, the Lipandé, going south-west to Moero, then, an hour afterwards, crossed it again, now twenty yards wide and knee deep. After descending from the tree-covered hill which divides Lipandé from Luao, we crossed the latter to sleep on its western bank. The hills are granite now, and a range on our left, from 700 to 1500 feet high, goes on all the way to Moero. These valleys along which we travel are beautiful. Green is the prevailing colour; but the clumps of trees assume a great variety of forms, and often remind one of English park scenery. The long line of slaves and carriers, brought up by their Arab employers, adds life to the scene, they are in three bodies, and number 450 in all. Each party has a guide with a flag, and when that is planted all that company stops till it is lifted, and a drum is beaten, and a kudu's horn sounded. One party is headed by about a dozen leaders, dressed with fantastic head-gear of feathers and beads, red cloth on the bodies, and skins cut into strips and twisted: they take their places in line, the drum beats, the horn sounds harshly, and all fall in. These sounds seem to awaken a sort of _esprit de corps_ in those who have once been slaves. My attendants now jumped up, and would scarcely allow me time to dress when they heard the-sounds of their childhood, and all day they were among the foremost. One said to me "that his feet were rotten with marching," and this though told that they were not called on to race along like slaves. The Africans cannot stand sneers. When any mishap occurs in the march (as when a branch tilts a load off a man's shoulder) all who see it set up a yell of derision; if anything is accidentally spilled, or if one is tired and sits down, the same yell greets him, and all are excited thereby to exert themselves. They hasten on with their loads, and hurry with the sheds they build, the masters only bringing up the rear, and helping anyone who may be sick. The distances travelled were quite as much as the masters or we could bear. Had frequent halts been made--as, for instance, a half or a quarter of an hour at the end of every hour or two--but little distress would have been felt; but five hours at a stretch is more than men can bear in a hot climate. The female slaves held on bravely; nearly all carried loads on their heads, the head, or lady of the party, who is also the wife of the Arab, was the only exception. She had a fine white shawl, with ornaments of gold and silver on her head. These ladies had a jaunty walk, and never gave in on the longest march; many pounds' weight of fine copper leglets above the ankles seemed only to help the sway of their walk: as soon as they arrive at the sleeping-place they begin to cook, and in this art they show a good deal of expertness, making savoury dishes for their masters out of wild fruits and other not very likely materials. _3rd November, 1867._--The ranges of hills retire as we advance; the soil is very rich. At two villages the people did not want us, so we went on and encamped near a third, Kabwakwa, where a son of Mohamad bin Saleh, with a number of Wanyamwesi, lives. The chief of this part is Muabo, but we did not see him: the people brought plenty of food for us to buy. The youth's father is at Casembe's. The country-people were very much given to falsehood--every place inquired for was near--ivory abundant--provisions of all sorts cheap and plenty. Our headmen trusted to these statements of this young man rather, and he led them to desist going further. Rua country was a month distant, he said, and but little ivory there. It is but three days off. (We saw it after three days.) "No ivory at Casembe's or here in Buiré, or Kabuiré." He was right as to Casembe. Letters, however, came from Hamees, with news of a depressing nature. Chitimba is dead, and so is Mambwé. Chitimba's people are fighting for the chieftainship: great hunger prevails there now, the Arabs having bought up all the food. Moriri, a chief dispossessed of his country by Nsama, wished Hamees to restore his possessions, but Hamees said that he had made peace, and would not interfere. This unfavourable news from a part where the chief results of their trading were deposited, made Syde and Tipo Tipo decide to remain in Buiré only ten or twenty days, send out people to buy what ivory they could find, and then, retire. As Syde and Tipo Tipo were sending men to Casembe for ivory, I resolved to go thither first, instead of shaping my course for Ujiji. Very many cases of goitre in men and women here: I see no reason for it. This is only 3350 feet above the sea. _7th November, 1867._--Start for Moero, convoyed by all the Arabs for some distance: they have been extremely kind. We draw near to the mountain-range on our left, called Kakoma, and sleep at one of Kaputa's villages, our course now being nearly south. _8th November, 1867._--Villages are very thickly studded over the valley formed by Kakoma range, and another at a greater distance on our right; 100 or 200 yards is a common distance between these villages, which, like those in Londa, or Lunda, are all shaded with trees of a species of _Ficus indica_. One belongs to Puta, and this Puta, the paramount chief, sent to say that if we slept there, and gave him a cloth, he would send men to conduct us next day, and ferry us across: I was willing to remain, but his people would not lend a hut, so we came on to the Lake, and no ferry. Probably he thought that we were going across the Lualaba into Rua. Lake Moero seems of goodly size, and is flanked by ranges of mountains on the east and west. Its banks are of coarse sand, and slope gradually down to the water: outside these banks stands a thick belt of tropical vegetation, in which fishermen build their huts. The country called Rua lies on the west, and is seen as a lofty range of dark mountains: another range of less height, but more broken, stands along the eastern shore, and in it lies the path to Casembe. We slept in a fisherman's hut on the north shore. They brought a large fish, called "mondé," for sale; it has a slimy skin, and no scales, a large head, with tentaculae like the Siluridie, and large eyes: the great gums in its mouth have a brush-like surface, like a whale's in miniature: it is said to eat small fish. A bony spine rises on its back (I suppose for defence), which is 2-1/2 inches long, and as thick as a quill. They are very retentive of life. The northern shore has a fine sweep like an unbent bow, and round the western end flows the water that makes the river Lualaba, which, before it enters Moero, is the Luapula, and that again (if the most intelligent reports speak true) is the Chambezé before it enters Lake Bemba, or Bangweolo. We came along the north shore till we reached the eastern flanking range, then ascended and turned south, the people very suspicious, shutting their gates as we drew near. We were alone, and only nine persons in all, but they must have had reason for fear. One headman refused us admission, then sent after us, saying that the man who had refused admission was not the chief: he had come from a distance, and had just arrived. It being better to appear friendly than otherwise, we went back, and were well entertained. Provisions were given when we went away. Flies abound, and are very troublesome; they seem to be attracted by the great numbers of fish caught. The people here are Babemba, but beyond the river Kalongosi they are all Balunda. A trade in salt is carried on from different salt springs and salt mud to Lunda and elsewhere. We meet parties of salt-traders daily, and they return our salutations very cordially, rubbing earth on the arms. We find our path lies between two ranges of mountains, one flanking the eastern shore, the other about three miles more inland, and parallel to it: these are covered thickly with trees, and are of loosely-coherent granite: many villages are in the space enclosed by these ranges, but all insecure. _12th November, 1867._.--We came to the Kalongosi, or, as the Arabs and Portuguese pronounce it, Karungwesi, about 60 yards wide, and flowing fast over stones. It is deep enough, even now when the rainy season is not commenced, to requite canoes. It is said to rise in Kumbi, or Afar, a country to the south-east of our ford. Fish in great numbers are caught when ascending to spawn: they are secured by weirs, nets, hooks. Large strong baskets are placed in the rapids, and filled with stones, when the water rises these baskets are standing-places for the fishermen to angle or throw their nets. Having crossed the Kalongosi we were now in Lunda, or Londa. _13th November, 1867._--We saw that the Kalongosi went north till it met a large meadow on the shores of Moero, and, turning westwards, it entered there. The fishermen gave us the names of 39 species of fish in the Lake; they said that they never cease ascending the Kalongosi, though at times they are more abundant than at others: they are as follows. Mondé; Mota; Lasa; Kasibé; Molobé; Lopembé; Motoya; Chipansa; Mpifu; Manda; Mpala; Moombo; Mfeu; Mendé; Seusé; Kadia nkololo; Etiaka; Nkomo; Lifisha; Sambamkaka; Ntondo; Sampa; Bongwé; Mabanga; Kisé; Kuanya; Nkosu; Palé; Mosungu; Litembwa; Mecheberé; Koninchia; Sipa; Lomembé; Molenga; Mirongé; Nfindo; Pende. _14th November, 1867._--Being doubtful as to whether we were in the right path, I sent to a village to inquire. The headman, evidently one of a former Casembe school, came to us full of wrath. "What right had we to come that way, seeing the usual path was to our left?" He mouthed some sentences in the pompous Lunda style, but would not show us the path; so we left him, and after going through a forest of large trees, 4-1/2 hours south, took advantage of some huts on the Kifurwa River, built by bark-cloth cutters. _15th November, 1867._--Heavy rains, but we went on, and found a village, Kifurwa, surrounded by cassava fields, and next day crossed the Muatozé, 25 yards wide, and running strongly towards Moero, knee deep. The River Kabukwa, seven yards wide, and also knee deep, going to swell the Muatozé. We now crossed a brook, Chirongo, one yard wide and one deep; but our march was all through well-grown forest, chiefly gum-copal trees and bark-cloth trees. The gum-copal oozes out in abundance after or during the rains, from holes a quarter of an inch in diameter, made by an insect: it falls, and in time sinks into the soil, a supply for future generations. The small well-rounded features of the people of Nsama's country are common here, as we observe in the salt-traders and villages; indeed, this is the home of the Negro, and the features such as we see in pictures of ancient Egyptians, as first pointed out by Mr. Winwood Reade. We sleep by the river Mandapala, 12 yards wide, and knee deep. _18th November, 1867._--We rest by the Kabusi, a sluggish narrow rivulet. It runs into the Chungu, a quarter of a mile off. The Chungu is broad, but choked with trees and aquatic plants: Sapotas, Eschinomenas, Papyrus, &c. The free stream is 18 yards wide, and waist deep. We had to wade about 100 yards, thigh and waist deep, to get to the free stream. On this, the Chungu, Dr. Lacerda died; it is joined by the Mandapala, and flows a united stream into Moero. The statements of the people are confused, but the following is what I have gleaned from many. There were some Ujiji people with the Casembe of the time. The Portuguese and Ujijians began to fight, but Casembe said to them and the Portuguese, "You are all my guests, why should you fight and kill each other?" He then gave Lacerda ten slaves, and men to live with him and work at building huts, bringing firewood, water, &c. He made similar presents to the Ujijians, which quieted them. Lacerda was but ten days at Chungu when he died. The place of his death was about 9° 32', and not 8° 43' as in Mr. Arrowsmith's map. The feud arose from one of Lacerda's people killing an Ujijian at the water: this would certainly be a barrier to their movements. Palm-oil trees are common west of the Chungu, but none appeared east of it. The oil is eaten by the people, and is very nice and sweet. This is remarkable, as the altitude above the sea is 3350 feet. Allah is a very common exclamation among all the people west of Nsama. By advice of a guide whom we picked up at Kifurwa, we sent four fathoms of calico to apprise Casembe of our coming: the Arabs usually send ten fathoms; in our case it was a very superfluous notice, for Casembe is said to have been telegraphed to by runners at every stage of our progress after crossing the Kalongosi. We remain by the Chungu till Casembe sends one of his counsellors to guide us to his town. It has been so perpetually clouded over that we have been unable to make out our progress, and the dense forest prevented us seeing Moero as we wished: rain and thunder perpetually, though the rain seldom fell where we were. I saw pure white-headed swallows _(Psalidoprocne albiceps)_ skimming the surface of the Chungu as we crossed it. The soil is very rich. Casembe's ground-nuts are the largest I have seen, and so is the cassava. I got over a pint of palm oil for a cubit of calico. A fine young man, whose father had been the Casembe before this one, came to see us; he is in the background now, otherwise he would have conducted us to the village: a son or heir does not succeed to the chieftainship here. _21st November, 1867._--The River Lundé was five miles from Chungu. It is six yards wide where we crossed it, but larger further down; springs were oozing out of its bed: we then entered on a broad plain, covered with bush, the trees being all cleared off in building a village. When one Casembe dies, the man who succeeds him invariably removes and builds his pembwé, or court, at another place: when Dr. Lacerda died, the Casembe moved to near the north end of the Mofwé. There have been seven Casembes in all. The word means a _general_. The plain extending from the Lundé to the town of Casembe is level, and studded pretty thickly with red anthills, from 15 to 20 feet high. Casembe has made a broad path from his town to the Lundé, about a mile-and-a-half long, and as broad as a carriage-path. The chief's residence is enclosed in a wall of reeds, 8 or 9 feet high, and 300 yards square, the gateway is ornamented with about sixty human skulls; a shed stands in the middle of the road before we come to the gate, with a cannon dressed in gaudy cloths. A number of noisy fellows stopped our party, and demanded tribute for the cannon; I burst through them, and the rest followed without giving anything: they were afraid of the English. The town is on the east bank of the Lakelet Mofwé, and one mile from its northern end. Mohamad bin Saleh now met us, his men firing guns of welcome; he conducted us to his shed of reception, and then gave us a hut till we could build one of our own. Mohamad is a fine portly black Arab, with a pleasant smile, and pure white beard, and has been more than ten years in these parts, and lived with four Casembes: he has considerable influence here, and also on Tanganyika. An Arab trader, Mohamad Bogharib, who arrived seven days before us with an immense number of slaves, presented a meal of vermicelli, oil, and honey, also cassava meal cooked, so as to resemble a sweet meat (I had not tasted honey or sugar since we left Lake Nyassa, in September 1866): they had coffee too. Neither goats, sheep, nor cattle thrive here, so the people are confined to fowls and fish. Cassava is very extensively cultivated, indeed, so generally is this plant grown, that it is impossible to know which is town and which is country: every hut has a plantation around it, in which is grown cassava, Holcus sorghum, maize, beans, nuts. Mohamad gives the same account of the River Luapula and Lake Bemba that Jumbé did, but he adds, that the Chambezé, where we crossed it, _is_ the Luapula before it enters Bemba or Bangweolo: on coming out of that Lake it turns round and comes away to the north, as Luapula, and, without touching the Mofwé, goes into Moero; then, emerging thence at the north-west end it becomes Lualaba, goes into Rua, forms a lake there, and afterwards goes into another lake beyond Tanganyika. The Lakelet Mofwé fills during the rains and spreads westward, much beyond its banks. Elephants wandering in its mud flats when covered are annually killed in numbers: if it were connected with the Lake Moero the flood would run off. Many of Casembe's people appear with the ears cropped and hands lopped off: the present chief has been often guilty of this barbarity. One man has just come to us without ears or hands: he tries to excite our pity making a chirruping noise, by striking his cheeks with the stumps of his hands. A dwarf also, one Zofu, with backbone broken, comes about us: he talks with an air of authority, and is present at all public occurrences: the people seem to bear with him. He is a stranger from a tribe in the north, and works in his garden very briskly: his height is 3 feet 9 inches. FOOTNOTES: [56] Chéfu amongst the Manganja. Any animal possessing strength, has the terminal "fu" or "vu;" thus Njobvu, an elephant; M'vu, the hippopotamus.--ED. [57] The natives are quick to detect a peculiarity in a man, and give him a name accordingly: the conquerors of a country try to forestall them by selecting one for themselves. Susi states that when Tipo Tipo stood over the spoil taken from Nsama, he gathered it closer together and said, "Now I am Tipo Tipo," that is, "the gatherer together of wealth." Kumba Kumba, of whom we shall hear much, took his name from the number of captives he gathered in his train under similar circumstances; it might be translated, "the collector of people."--ED. [58] It is on the West Coast alone that idols are really worshipped in Africa.--ED. CHAPTER X. Grand reception of the traveller. Casenibe and his wife. Long stay in the town. Goes to explore Moero. Despatch to Lord Clarendon, with notes on recent travels. Illness at the end of 1867. Further exploration of Lake Moero. Flooded plains. The River Luao. Visits Kabwawata. Joy of Arabs at Mohamad bin Saleh's freedom. Again ill with fever. Stories of underground dwellings. _24th November, 1867._--We were called to be presented to Casembe in a grand reception. The present Casembe has a heavy uninteresting countenance, without beard or whiskers, and somewhat of the Chinese type, and his eyes have an outward squint. He smiled but once during the day, and that was pleasant enough, though the cropped ears and lopped hands, with human skulls at the gate, made me indisposed to look on anything with favour. His principal wife came with her attendants, after he had departed, to look at the Englishman (Moenge-résé). She was a fine, tall, good-featured lady, with two spears in her hand; the principal men who had come around made way for her, and called on me to salute: I did so; but she, being forty yards off, I involuntarily beckoned her to come nearer: this upset the gravity of all her attendants; all burst into a laugh, and ran off. Casembe's smile was elicited by the dwarf making some uncouth antics before him. His executioner also came forward to look: he had a broad Lunda sword on his arm, and a curious scizzor-like instrument at his neck for cropping ears. On saying to him that his was nasty work, he smiled, and so did many who were not sure of their ears a moment: many men of respectability show that at some former time they have been thus punished. Casembe sent us another large basket of fire-dried fish in addition to that sent us at Chungu, two baskets of flour, one of dried cassava, and a pot of pombe or beer. Mohamad, who was accustomed to much more liberal Casembes, thinks this one very stingy, having neither generosity nor good sense; but as we cannot consume all he gives, we do not complain. _27th November, 1867._--Casembe's chief wife passes frequently to her plantation, carried by six, or more commonly by twelve men in a sort of palanquin: she has European features, but light-brown complexion. A number of men run before her, brandishing swords and battle-axes, and one beats a hollow instrument, giving warning to passengers to clear the way: she has two enormous pipes ready filled for smoking. She is very attentive to her agriculture; cassava is the chief product; sweet potatoes, maize, sorghum, pennisetum, millet, ground-nuts, cotton. The people seem more savage than any I have yet seen: they strike each other barbarously from mere wantonness, but they are civil enough to me. Mohamad bin Saleh proposes to go to Ujiji next month. He waited when he heard of our coming, in order that we might go together: he has a very low opinion of the present chief. The area which has served for building the chief town at different times is about ten miles in diameter. Mofwé is a shallow piece of water about two miles broad, four or less long, full of sedgy islands, the abodes of waterfowl, but some are solid enough to be cultivated. The bottom is mud, though sandy at the east shore: it has no communication with the Luapula. _(28th November, 1867._) The Lundé, Chungu, and Mandapala are said to join and flow into Moero. Fish are in great abundance (perch). On the west side there is a grove of palm-oil palms, and beyond west rises a long range of mountains of the Rua country 15 or 20 miles off. _1st December, 1867._--An old man named Pérémbé is the owner of the land on which Casembe has built. They always keep up the traditional ownership. Munongo is a brother of Pérémbé, and he owns the country east of the Kalongosi: if any one wished to cultivate land he would apply to these aboriginal chiefs for it. I asked a man from Casembe to guide me to south end of Moero, but he advised me not to go as it was so marshy. The Lundé forms a marsh on one side, and the Luapula lets water percolate through sand and mud, and so does the Robukwé, which makes the path often knee deep. He said he would send men to conduct me to Moero, a little further down, and added that we had got very little to eat from him, and he wanted to give more. Moero's south end is about 9° 30' S. Old Pérémbé is a sensible man: Mohamad thinks him 150 years old. He is always on the side of liberality and fairness; he says that the first Casembe was attracted to Mofwé by the abundance of fish in it. He has the idea of all men being derived from a single pair. _7th December, 1867._--It is very cloudy here; no observations can be made, as it clouds over every afternoon and night. _(8th and 11th December, 1867._) Cleared off last night, but intermittent fever prevented my going out. _13th December, 1867._--Set-in rains. A number of fine young girls who live in Casembe's compound came and shook hands in their way, which is to cross the right over to your left, and clasp them; then give a few claps with both hands, and repeat the crossed clasp: they want to tell their children that they have seen me. _15th December, 1867._--To-day I announced to Casembe our intention of going away. Two traders got the same return present from him that I did, namely, one goat and some fish, meal and cassava. I am always ill when not working; I spend my time writing letters, to be ready when we come to Ujiji. _(18th December, 1867._) We have been here a month, and I cannot get more than two lunars: I got altitudes of the meridian of stars north and south soon after we came, but not lunars. Casembe sent a big basket of fire-dried fish, two pots of beer, and a basket of cassava, and says we may go when we choose. _19th December, 1867._--On going to say good-bye to Casembe, he tried to be gracious, said that we had eaten but little of his food; yet he allowed us to go. He sent for a man to escort us; and on the _22nd December, 1867._ we went to Lundé River, crossed it, and went on to sleep at the Chungu, close by the place where Casembe's court stood when Dr. Lacerda came, for the town was moved further west as soon as the Doctor died. There are many palm-oil palms about, but no tradition exists of their introduction. _23rd December, 1867._--We crossed the Chungu. Rain from above, and cold and wet to the waist below, as I do not lift my shirt, because the white skin makes all stare. I saw black monkeys at this spot. The Chungu is joined by the Kaleusi and the Mandapala before it enters Moero. Casembe said that the Lundé ran into Mofwé; others denied this, and said that it formed a marsh with numbers of pools in long grass; but it may ooze into Mofwé thus. Casembe sent three men to guide me to Moero. _24th December, 1867._--Drizzly rain, and we are in a miserable spot by the Kabusi, in a bed of brakens four feet high. The guides won't stir in this weather. I gave beads to buy what could be got for Christmas. _25th December, 1867._--Drizzly showers every now and then; soil, black mud. About ten men came as guides and as a convoy of honour to Mohamad. _27th December, 1867._--In two hours we crossed Mandapala, now waist deep. This part was well stocked with people five years ago, but Casembe's severity in cropping ears and other mutilations, selling the children for slight offences, &c., made them all flee to neighbouring tribes; and now, if he sent all over the country, he could not collect a thousand men. [Livingstone refers (on the 15th Dec.) to some writings he was engaged upon, and we find one of them here in his journal which takes the form of a despatch to Lord Clarendon, with a note attached to the effect that it was not copied or sent, as he had no paper for the purpose. It affords an epitomised description of his late travels, and the stay at Casembe, and is inserted here in the place of many notes written daily, but which only repeat the same events and observations in a less readable form. It is especially valuable at this stage of his journal, because it treats on the whole geography of the district between Lakes Nyassa and Moero, with a broad handling which is impossible in the mere jottings of a diary.] Town Of Casembe, _10th December, 1867._. Lat. 9° 37' 13" South; long. 28° East. The Right Honourable the Earl of Clarendon. My Lord,--The first opportunity I had of sending a letter to the coast occurred in February last, when I was at a village called Molemba (lat. 10° 14' S.; long. 31° 46' E.), in the country named Lobemba. Lobisa, Lobemba, Ulungu and Itawa-Lunda are the names by which the districts of an elevated region between the parallels 11° and 8° south, and meridians 28°-33° long. east, are known. The altitude of this upland is from 4000 to 6000 feet above the level of the sea. It is generally covered with forest, well watered by numerous rivulets, and comparatively cold. The soil is very rich, and yields abundantly wherever cultivated. This is the watershed between the Loangwa, a tributary of the Zambesi, and several rivers which flow towards the north. Of the latter, the most remarkable is the Chambezé, for it assists in the formation of three lakes, and changes its name three times in the five or six hundred miles of its course. On leaving Lobemba we entered Ulungu, and, as we proceeded northwards, perceived by the barometers and the courses of numerous rivulets, that a decided slope lay in that direction. A friendly old Ulungu chief, named Kasonso, on hearing that I wished to visit Lake Liemba, which lies in his country, gave his son with a large escort to guide me thither; and on the 2nd April last we reached the brim of the deep cup-like cavity in which the Lake reposes. The descent is 2000 feet, and still the surface of the water is upwards of 2500 feet above the level of the sea. The sides of the hollow are very steep, and sometimes the rocks run the whole 2000 feet sheer down to the water. Nowhere is there three miles of level land from the foot of the cliffs to the shore, but top, sides, and bottom are covered with well-grown wood and grass, except where the bare rocks protrude. The scenery is extremely beautiful. The "Aeasy," a stream of 15 yards broad and thigh deep, came down alongside our precipitous path, and formed cascades by leaping 300 feet at a time. These, with the bright red of the clay schists among the greenwood-trees, made the dullest of my attendants pause and remark with wonder. Antelopes, buffaloes, and elephants abound on the steep slopes; and hippopotami, crocodiles, and fish swarm in the water. Gnus are here unknown, and these animals may live to old age if not beguiled into pitfalls. The elephants sometimes eat the crops of the natives, and flap their big ears just outside the village stockades. One got out of our way on to a comparatively level spot, and then stood and roared at us. Elsewhere they make clear off at sight of man. The first village we came to on the banks of the Lake had a grove of palm-oil and other trees around it. This palm tree was not the dwarf species seen on Lake Nyassa. A cluster of the fruit passed the door of my hut which required two men to carry it. The fruit seemed quite as large as those on the West Coast. Most of the natives live on two islands, where they cultivate the soil, rear goats, and catch fish. The Lake is not large, from 15 to 20 miles broad, and from 30 to 40 long. It is the receptacle of four considerable streams, and sends out an arm two miles broad to the N.N.W., it is said to Tanganyika, and it may be a branch of that Lake. One of the streams, the Lonzua, drives a smooth body of water into the Lake fifty yards broad and ten fathoms deep, bearing on its surface duckweed and grassy islands. I could see the mouths of other streams, but got near enough to measure the Lofu only; and at a ford fifty miles from the confluence it was 100 yards wide and waist deep in the dry season. We remained six weeks on the shores of the Lake, trying to pick up some flesh and strength. A party of Arabs came into Ulungu after us in search of ivory, and hearing that an Englishman had preceded them, naturally inquired where I was. But our friends, the Bäulungu, suspecting that mischief was meant, stoutly denied that they had ever seen anything of the sort; and then became very urgent that I should go on to one of the inhabited islands for safety. I regret that I suspected them of intending to make me a prisoner there, which they could easily have done by removing the canoes; but when the villagers who deceived the Arabs told me afterwards with an air of triumph how nicely they had managed, I saw that they had only been anxious for my safety. On three occasions the same friendly disposition was shown; and when we went round the west side of the Lake in order to examine the arm or branch above referred to, the headman at the confluence of the Lofu protested so strongly against my going--the Arabs had been fighting, and I might be mistaken for an Arab, and killed--that I felt half-inclined to believe him. Two Arab slaves entered the village the same afternoon in search of ivory, and confirmed all he had said. We now altered our course, intending to go south about the district disturbed by the Arabs. When we had gone 60 miles we heard that the head-quarters of the Arabs were 22 miles further. They had found ivory very cheap, and pushed on to the west, till attacked by a chief named, Nsama, whom they beat in his own stockade. They were now at a loss which way to turn. On reaching Chitimba's village (lat. 8° 57' 55" S.; long. 30° 20' E.), I found them about 600 in all; and, on presenting a letter I had from the Sultan of Zanzibar, was immediately supplied with provisions, beads, and cloth. They approved of my plan of passing to the south of Nsama's country, but advised waiting till the effects of punishment, which the Bäulungu had resolved to inflict on Nsama for breach of public law, were known. It had always been understood that whoever brought goods into the country was to be protected; and two hours after my arrival at Chitimba's, the son of Kasonso, our guide, marched in with his contingent. It was anticipated that Nsama might flee; if to the north, he would leave me a free passage through his country; if to the south, I might be saved from walking into his hands. But it turned out that Nsama was anxious for peace. He had sent two men with elephants' tusks to begin a negotiation; but treachery was suspected, and they were shot down. Another effort was made with ten goats, and repulsed. This was much to the regret of the head Arabs. It was fortunate for me that the Arab goods were not all sold, for Lake Moero lay in Nsama's country, and without peace no ivory could be bought, nor could I reach the Lake. The peace-making between the people and Arabs was, however, a tedious process, occupying three and a half months--drinking each other's blood. This, as I saw it west of this in 1854, is not more horrible than the thirtieth dilution of deadly night-shade or strychnine is in homoeopathy. I thought that had I been an Arab I could easily swallow that, but not the next means of cementing the peace--marrying a black wife. Nsama's daughter was the bride, and she turned out very pretty. She came riding pickaback on a man's shoulders: this is the most dignified conveyance that chiefs and their families can command. She had ten maids with her, each carrying a basket of provisions, and all having the same beautiful features as herself. She was taken by the principal Arab, but soon showed that she preferred her father to her husband, for seeing preparations made to send off to purchase ivory, she suspected that her father was to be attacked, and made her escape. I then, visited Nsama, and, as he objected to many people coming near him, took only three of my eight attendants. His people were very much afraid of fire-arms, and felt all my clothing to see if I had any concealed on my person. Nsama is an old man, with head and face like those sculptured on the Assyrian monuments. He has been a great conqueror in his time, and with bows and arrows was invincible. He is said to have destroyed many native traders from Tanganyika, but twenty Arab guns made him flee from his own stockade, and caused a great sensation in the country. He was much taken with my hair and woollen clothing; but his people, heedless of his scolding, so pressed upon us that we could not converse, and, after promising to send for me to talk during the night, our interview ended. He promised guides to Moero, and sent us more provisions than we could carry; but showed so much distrust, that after all we went without his assistance. Nsama's people are particularly handsome. Many of the men have as beautiful heads as one could find in an assembly of Europeans. All have very fine forms, with small hands and feet. None of the West-coast ugliness, from which most of our ideas of the Negroes are derived, is here to be seen. No prognathous jaws nor lark-heels offended the sight. My observations deepened the impression first obtained from the remarks of Winwood Reade, that the typical Negro is seen in the ancient Egyptian, and not in the ungainly forms; which grow up in the unhealthy swamps of the West Coast. Indeed it is probable that this upland forest region is the true home of the Negro. The women excited the admiration of the Arabs. They have fine, small, well-formed features: their great defect is one of fashion, which does not extend to the next tribe; they file their teeth to points, the hussies, and that makes their smile like that of the crocodile. Nsama's country is called Itawa, and his principal town is in lat. 8° 55' S., and long. 29° 21' E. From the large population he had under him, Itawa is in many parts well cleared of trees for cultivation, and it is lower than Ulungu, being generally about 3000 feet above the sea. Long lines of tree-covered hills raised some 600 or 700 feet above these valleys of denudation, prevent the scenery from being monotonous. Large game is abundant. Elephants, buffaloes, and zebras grazed in large numbers on the long sloping, banks of a river called Chiséra, a mile and a half broad. In going north we crossed this river, or rather marsh, which is full of papyrus plants and reeds. Our ford was an elephant's path; and the roots of the papyrus, though a carpet to these animals, were sharp and sore to feet usually protected by shoes, and often made us shrink and flounder into holes chest deep. The Chiséra forms a larger marsh west of this, and it gives off its water to the Kalongosi, a feeder of Lake Moero. The Arabs sent out men in all directions to purchase ivory; but their victory over Nsama had created a panic among the tribes which no verbal assurances could allay. If Nsama had been routed by twenty Arab guns no one could stand before them but Casembe; and Casembe had issued strict orders to his people not to allow the Arabs who fought Nsama to enter his country. They did not attempt to force their way, but after sending friendly messages and presents to different chiefs, when these were not cordially received, turned off in some other direction, and at last, despairing of more ivory, turned homewards. From first to last they were extremely kind to me, and showed all due respect to the Sultan's letter. I am glad that I was witness to their mode of trading in ivory and slaves. It formed a complete contrast to the atrocious dealings of the Kilwa traders, who are supposed to be, but are not, the subjects of the same Sultan. If one wished to depict the slave-trade in its most attractive, or rather least objectionable, form, he would accompany these gentlemen subjects of the Sultan of Zanzibar. If he would describe the land traffic in its most disgusting phases he would follow the Kilwa traders along the road to Nyassa, or the Portuguese half-castes from Tette to the River Shiré. Keeping to the north of Nsama altogether, and moving westwards, our small party reached the north end of Moero on the 8th November last. There the Lake is a goodly piece of water twelve or more miles broad, and flanked on the east and west by ranges of lofty tree-covered mountains. The range on the west is the highest, and is part of the country called Rua-Moero; it gives off a river at its north-west end called Lualaba, and receives the River Kalongosi (pronounced by the Arabs Karungwesi) on the east near its middle, and the rivers Luapula and Rovukwé at its southern extremity. The point of most interest in Lake Moero is that it forms one of a chain of lakes, connected by a river some 500 miles in length. First of all the Chambezé rises in the country of Mambwé, N.E. of Molemba. It then flows south-west and west till it reaches lat. 11° S., and long. 29° E., where it forms Lake Bemba or Bangweolo, emerging thence it assumes the new name Luapula, and comes down here to fall into Moero. On going out of this Lake it is known by the name Lualaba, as it flows N.W. in Rua to form another Lake with many islands called Urengé or Ulengé. Beyond this, information is not positive as to whether it enters Tanganyika or another Lake beyond that. When I crossed the Chambezé, the similarity of names led me to imagine that this was a branch of the Zambesi. The natives said, "No. This goes south-west, and forms a very large water there." But I had become prepossessed with the idea that Lake Liemba was that Bemba of which I had heard in 1863, and we had been so starved in the south that I gladly set my face north. The river-like prolongation of Liemba might go to Moero, and where I could not follow the arm of Liemba. Then I worked my way to this Lake. Since coming to Casembe's the testimony of natives and Arabs has been so united and consistent, that I am but ten days from Lake Bemba, or Bangweolo, that I cannot doubt its accuracy. I am so tired of exploration without a word from home or anywhere else for two years, that I must go to Ujiji on Tanganyika for letters before doing anything else. The banks and country adjacent to Lake Bangweolo are reported to be now very muddy and very unhealthy. I have no medicine. The inhabitants suffer greatly from swelled thyroid gland or Derbyshire neck and elephantiasis, and this is the rainy season and very unsafe for me. When at the lower end of Moero we were so near Casembe that it was thought well to ascertain the length of the Lake, and see Casembe too. We came up between the double range that flanks the east of the Lake; but mountains and plains are so covered with well-grown forest that we could seldom see it. We reached Casembe's town on the 28th November. It stands near the north end of the Lakelet Mofwé; this is from one to three miles broad, and some six or seven long: it is full of sedgy islands, and abounds in fish. The country is quite level, but fifteen or twenty miles west of Mofwé we see a long range of the mountains of Rua. Between this range and Mofwé the Luapula flows past into Moero, the Lake called Moero okata = the great Moero, being about fifty miles long. The town of Casembe covers a mile square of cassava plantations, the huts being dotted over that space. Some have square enclosures of reeds, but no attempt has been made at arrangement: it might be called a rural village rather than a town. No estimate could be formed by counting the huts, they were so irregularly planted, and hidden by cassava; but my impression from other collections of huts was that the population was under a thousand souls. The court or compound of Casembe--some would call it a palace--is a square enclosure of 300 yards by 200 yards. It is surrounded by a hedge of high reeds. Inside, where Casembe honoured me with a grand reception, stands a gigantic hut for Casembe, and a score of small huts for domestics. The Queen's hut stands behind that of the chief, with a number of small huts also. Most of the enclosed space is covered with a plantation of cassava, _Curcus purgaris_, and cotton. Casembe sat before his hut on a equate seat placed on lion and leopard skins. He was clothed in a coarse blue and white Manchester print edged with red baize, and arranged in large folds so as to look like a crinoline put on wrong side foremost. His arms, legs and head were covered with sleeves, leggings and cap made of various coloured beads in neat patterns: a crown of yellow feathers surmounted his cap. Each of his headmen came forward, shaded by a huge, ill-made umbrella, and followed by his dependants, made obeisance to Casembe, and sat down on his right and left: various bands of musicians did the same. When called upon I rose and bowed, and an old counsellor, with his ears cropped, gave the chief as full an account as he had been able to gather during our stay of the English in general, and my antecedents in particular. My having passed through Lunda to the west of Casembe, and visited chiefs of whom he scarcely knew anything, excited most attention. He then assured me that I was welcome to his country, to go where I liked, and do what I chose. We then went (two boys carrying his train behind him) to an inner apartment, where the articles of my present were exhibited in detail. He had examined them privately before, and we knew that he was satisfied. They consisted of eight yards of orange-coloured serge, a large striped tablecloth; another large cloth made at Manchester in imitation of West Coast native manufacture, which never fails to excite the admiration of Arabs and natives, and a large richly gilded comb for the back hair, such as ladies wore fifty years ago: this was given to me by a friend at Liverpool, and as Casembe and Nsama's people cultivate the hair into large knobs behind, I was sure that this article would tickle the fancy. Casembe expressed himself pleased, and again bade me welcome. I had another interview, and tried to dissuade him from selling his people as slaves. He listened awhile, then broke off into a tirade on the greatness of his country, his power and dominion, which Mohamad bin Saleh, who has been here for ten years, turned into ridicule, and made the audience laugh by telling how other Lunda chiefs had given me oxen and sheep, while Casembe had only a poor little goat and some fish to bestow. He insisted also that there were but two sovereigns in the world, the Sultan of Zanzibar and Victoria. When we went on a third occasion to bid Casembe farewell, he was much less distant, and gave me the impression that I could soon become friends with him; but he has an ungainly look, and an outward squint in each eye. A number of human skulls adorned the entrance to his courtyard; and great numbers of his principal men having their ears cropped, and some with their hands lopped off, showed his barbarous way of making his ministers attentive and honest. I could not avoid indulging a prejudice against him. The Portuguese visited Casembe long ago; but as each new Casembe builds a new town, it is not easy to fix on the exact spot to which strangers came. The last seven Casembes have had their towns within seven miles of the present one. Dr. Lacerda, Governor of Tette, on the Zambesi, was the only visitor of scientific attainments, and he died at the rivulet called Chungu, three or four miles from this. The spot is called Nshinda, or Inchinda, which the Portuguese wrote Lucenda or Ucenda. The latitude given is nearly fifty miles wrong, but the natives say that he lived only ten days after his arrival, and if, as is probable, his mind was clouded with fever when he last observed, those who have experienced what that is will readily excuse any mistake he may have made. His object was to accomplish a much-desired project of the Portuguese to have an overland communication between their eastern and western possessions. This was never made by any of the Portuguese nation; but two black traders succeeded partially with a part of the distance, crossing once from Cassangé, in Angola, to Tette on the Zambesi, and returning with a letter from the Governor of Mosambique. It is remarkable that this journey, which was less by a thousand miles than from sea to sea and back again, should have for ever quenched all white Portuguese aspirations for an overland route. The different Casembes visited by the Portuguese seem to have varied much in character and otherwise. Pereira, the first visitor, said (I quote from memory) that Casembe had 20,000 trained soldiers, watered his streets daily, and sacrificed twenty human victims every day. I could hear nothing of human sacrifices now, and it is questionable if the present Casembe could bring a thousand stragglers into the field. When he usurped power five years ago, his country was densely peopled; but he was so severe in his punishments--cropping the ears, lopping off the hands, and other mutilations, selling the children for very slight offences, that his subjects gradually dispersed themselves in the neighbouring countries beyond his power. This is the common mode by which tyranny is cured in parts like these, where fugitives are never returned. The present Casembe is very poor. When he had people who killed elephants he was too stingy to share the profits of the sale of the ivory with his subordinates. The elephant hunters have either left him or neglect hunting, so he has now no tusks to sell to the Arab traders who come from Tanganyika. Major Monteiro, the third Portuguese who visited Casembe, appears to have been badly treated by this man's predecessor, and no other of his nation has ventured so far since. They do not lose much by remaining away, for a little ivory and slaves are all that Casembe ever can have to sell. About a month to the west of this the people of Katanga smelt copper-ore (malachite) into large bars shaped like the capital letter I. They may be met with of from 50 lbs. to 100 lbs., weight all over the country, and the inhabitants draw the copper into wire for armlets and leglets. Gold is also found at Katanga, and specimens were lately sent to the Sultan of Zanzibar. As we come down from the watershed towards Tanganyika we enter an area of the earth's surface still disturbed by internal igneous action. A hot fountain in the country of Nsama is often used to boil cassava and maize. Earthquakes are by no means rare. We experienced the shock of one while at Chitimba's village, and they extend as far as Casembe's. I felt as if afloat, and as huts would not fall there was no sense of danger; some of them that happened at night set the fowls a cackling. The most remarkable effect of this one was that it changed the rates of the chronometers; no rain fell after it. No one had access to the chronometers but myself, and, as I never heard of this effect before, I may mention that one which lost with great regularity 1.5 sec. daily, lost 15 sec.; another; whose rate since leaving the coast was 15 sec., lost 40 sec.; and a third, which gained 6 sec. daily, stopped altogether. Some of Nsama's people ascribed the earthquakes to the hot fountain, because it showed unusual commotion on these occasions; another hot fountain exists near Tanganyika than Nsama's, and we passed one on the shores of Moero. We could not understand why the natives called Moero much larger than Tanganyika till we saw both. The greater Lake lies in a comparatively narrow trough, with highland on each side, which is always visible; but when we look at Moero, to the south of the mountains of Rua on the west, we have nothing but an apparently boundless sea horizon. The Luapula and Rovukwé form a marsh at the southern extremity, and Casembe dissuaded me from entering it, but sent a man to guide me to different points of Moero further down. From the heights at which the southern portions were seen, it must be from forty to sixty miles broad. From the south end of the mountains of Rua (9° 4' south lat.) it is thirty-three miles broad. No native ever attempts to cross it even there. Its fisheries are of great value to the inhabitants, and the produce is carried to great distances. Among the vegetable products of this region, that which interested me most was a sort of potato. It does not belong to the solanaceous, but to the papilionaceous or pea family, and its flowers have a delightful fragrance. It is easily propagated by small cuttings of the root or stalk. The tuber is oblong, like our kidney potato, and when boiled tastes exactly like our common potato. When unripe it has a slight degree of bitterness, and it is believed to be wholesome; a piece of the root eaten raw is a good remedy in nausea. It is met with on the uplands alone, and seems incapable of bearing much heat, though I kept some of the roots without earth in a box, which was carried in the sun almost daily for six months, without destroying their vegetative power. It is remarkable that in all the central regions of Africa visited, the cotton is that known as the Pernambuco variety. It has a long strong staple, seeds clustered together, and adherent to each other. The bushes eight or ten feet high have woody stems, and the people make strong striped black and white shawls of the cotton. It was pleasant to meet the palm-oil palm (_Elais Guineaensis_) at Casembe's, which is over 3000 feet above the level of the sea. The oil is sold cheap, but no tradition exists of its introduction into the country. I send no sketch of the country, because I have not yet passed over a sufficient surface to give a connected view of the whole watershed of this region, and I regret that I cannot recommend any of the published maps I have seen as giving even a tolerable idea of the country. One bold constructor of maps has tacked on 200 miles to the north-west end of Lake Nyassa, a feat which no traveller has ever ventured to imitate. Another has placed a river in the same quarter running 3000 or 4000 feet up hill, and named it the "NEW ZAMBESI," because I suppose the old Zambesi runs down hill. I have walked over both these mental abortions, and did not know that I was walking on water till I saw them in the maps. [The despatch breaks off at this point. The year concludes with health impaired. As time goes on we shall see how ominous the conviction was which made him dread the swamps of Bangweolo.] _28-31st December, 1867._--We came on to the rivulet Chirongo, and then to the Kabukwa, where I was taken ill. Heavy rains kept the convoy back. I have had nothing but coarsely-ground sorghum meal for some time back, and am weak; I used to be the first in the line of march, and am now the last; Mohamad presented a meal of finely-ground porridge and a fowl, and I immediately felt the difference, though I was not grumbling at my coarse dishes. It is well that I did not go to Bangweolo Lake, for it is now very unhealthy to the natives, and I fear that without medicine continual wettings by fording rivulets might have knocked me up altogether. As I have mentioned, the people suffer greatly from swelled thyroid gland or Derbyshire neck and Elephantiasis scroti. _1st January, 1868._--Almighty Father, forgive the sins of the past year for Thy Son's sake. Help me to be more profitable during this year. If I am to die this year prepare me for it. * * * * * I bought five hoes at two or three yards of calico each: they are 13-1/2 inches by 6-1/2 inches; many are made in Casembe's country, and this is the last place we can find them: when we come into Buiré we can purchase a good goat for one; one of my goats died and the other dried up. I long for others, for milk is the most strengthening food I can get. My guide to Moero came to-day, and I visited the Lake several times, so as to get a good idea of its size. The first fifteen miles in the north are from twelve or more to thirty-three miles broad. The great mass of the Rua Mountains confines it. Thus in a clear day a lower range is seen continued from the high point of the first mass away to the west south-west, this ends, and sea horizon is alone visible away to the south and west; from the height we viewed it at, the width must be over forty, perhaps sixty miles. A large island, called Kirwa,[59] is situated between the Mandapala and Kabukwa Rivers, but nearest to the other shore. The natives never attempt to cross any part of the Lake south of this Kirwa. Land could not be seen with a good glass on the clearest day we had. I can understand why the natives pronounced Moero to be larger than Tanganyika: in the last named they see the land always on both sides; it is like a vast trough flanked with highlands, but at Moero nothing but sea horizon can be seen when one looks south-west of the Rua Mountains. At the Kalongosi meadow one of Mohamad's men shot a buffalo, and he gave me a leg of the good beefy flesh. Our course was slow, caused partly by rains, and partly by waiting for the convoy. The people at Kalongosi were afraid to ferry us or any of his people in the convoy out of Casembe's country; but at last we gave a good fee, and their scruples yielded: they were influenced also by seeing other villagers ready to undertake the job; the latter nearly fought over us on seeing that their neighbours got all the fare. We then came along the Lake, and close to its shores. The moisture caused a profusion of gingers, ferns, and tropical forest: buffaloes, zebras and elephants are numerous, and the villagers at Chukosi's, where we slept, warned us against lions and leopards. _12th January, 1868._--Sunday at Karembwé's village. The mountains east of him are called Makunga. We went yesterday to the shore, and by protraction Rua point was distant thirty-three miles. Karembwé sent for us, to have an audience; he is a large man with a gruff voice, but liked by his people and by strangers. I gave him a cloth, and he gave me a goat. The enthusiasm with which I held on to visit Moero had communicated itself to Tipo Tipo and Syde bin Alle, for they followed me up to this place to see the Lake, and remained five days while we were at Casembe's. Other Arabs, or rather Suahelis, must have seen it, but never mentioned it as anything worth looking at; and it was only when all hope of ivory was gone that these two headmen found time to come. There is a large population here. _13th January, 1868._--Heavy rains. Karembé mentioned a natural curiosity as likely to interest me: a little rivulet, Chipamba, goes some distance underground, but is uninteresting. Next day we crossed the Vuna, a strong torrent, which, has a hot fountain close by the ford, in which maize and cassava may be boiled. A large one in Nsama's country is used in the same way, maize and cassava being tied to a string and thrown in to be cooked: some natives believe that earthquakes are connected with its violent ebullitions. We crossed the Katétté, another strong torrent, before reaching the north end of Moero, where we slept in some travellers' huts. Leaving the Lake, and going north, we soon got on to a plain flooded by the Luao. We had to wade through very adhesive black mud, generally ankle deep, and having many holes in it much deeper: we had four hours of this, and then came to the ford of the Luao itself. We waded up a branch of it waist deep for at least a quarter of a mile, then crossed a narrow part by means of a rude bridge of branches and trees, of about forty yards width. The Luao, in spreading over the plains, confers benefits on the inhabitants, though I could not help concluding it imparts disease too, for the black mud in places smells horribly. Great numbers of Siluridae, chiefly _Clarias Capensis_, often three feet in length, spread over the flooded portions of the country, eating the young of other fishes, and insects, lizards, and worms, killed by the waters. The people make weirs for them, and as the waters retire kill large numbers, which they use as a relish to their farinaceous food. _16th January, 1868._--After sleeping near the Luao we went on towards the village, in which Mohamad's son lives. It is on the Kakoma Eiver, and is called Kabwabwata, the village of Mubao. In many of the villages the people shut their stockades as soon as we appear, and stand bows and arrows in hand till we have passed: the reason seems to be that the slaves when out of sight of their masters carry things with a high hand, demanding food and other things as if they had power and authority. One slave stole two tobacco pipes yesterday in passing through a village; the villagers complained to me when I came up, and I waited till Mohamad came and told him; we then went forward, the men keeping close to me till we got the slave and the pipes. They stole cassava as we went along, but this could scarcely be prevented. They laid hold of a plant an inch-and-a-half thick, and tore it out of the soft soil with its five or six roots as large as our largest carrots, stowed the roots away in their loads, and went on eating them; but the stalk thrown among those still growing shows the theft. The raw roots are agreeable and nutritious. No great harm is done by this, for the gardens are so large, but it inspires distrust in the inhabitants, and makes it dangerous for Arabs to travel not fully manned and armed. On reaching the village Kabwabwata a great demonstration was made by Mohamad's Arab dependants and Wanyamwesi: the women had their faces all smeared with pipeclay, and lullilooed with all their might. When we came among the huts, they cast handfuls of soil on their heads, while the men fired off their guns as fast as they could load them. Those connected with Mohamad ran and kissed his hands, and fired, till the sound of shouting, lullilooing, clapping of hands, and shooting was deafening: Mohamad was quite overcome by this demonstration, and it was long before he could still them. On the way to this village from the south we observed an extensive breadth of land, under ground-nuts which are made into oil: a large jar of this is sold for a hoe. The ground-nuts were now in flower, and green maize ready to be eaten. People all busy planting, transplanting, or weeding; they plant cassava on mounds prepared for it, on which they have sown beans, sorghum, maize, pumpkins: these ripen, and leave the cassava a free soil. The sorghum or dura is sown thickly, and when about a foot high--if the owner has been able to prepare the soil elsewhere--it is transplanted, a portion of the leaves being cut off to prevent too great evaporation and the death of the plant. _17th January, 1868._--The Wanyamwesi and people of Garaganza say that we have thirteen days' march from this to the Tanganyika Lake. It is often muddy, and many rivulets are to be crossed. Mohamad is naturally anxious to stay a little while with his son, for it is a wet season, and the mud is disagreeable to travel over: it is said to be worse near Ujiji: he cooks small delicacies for me with the little he has, and tries to make me comfortable. Vinegar is made from bananas, and oil from ground-nuts. I am anxious to be off, but chiefly to get news. I find that many Unyamwesi people are waiting here, on account of the great quantity of rainwater in front: it would be difficult, they say, to get canoes on Tanganyika, as the waves are now large. _24th January, 1868._--Two of Mohamad Bogharib's people came from Casembe's to trade here, and a body of Syde bin Habib's people also from Garaganza, near Kazé, they report the flooded lands on this side of Lake Tanganyika as waist and chest deep. Bin Habib, being at Katanga, will not stir till the rains are over, and I fear we are storm-stayed till then too. The feeders of the Marungu are not fordable just now, and no canoes are to be had. _26th and 27th January, 1868._--I am ill with fever, as I always am when stationary. _28th January, 1868._--Better, and thankful to Him of the Greatest Name. We must remain; it is a dry spot, and favourable for ground-nuts. _Hooping-cough_ here. _30th January, 1868._--The earth cooled by the rain last night sets all to transplanting dura or sorghum; they cut the leaves till only about eighteen inches of them are left, but it grows all the better for the change of place. Mohamad believes that Tanganyika flows through Rusizi to Lohindé. (Chuambo.) Seyd Seyd is said to have been the first Arab Sultan who traded, and Seyed Majid follows the example of his father, and has many Arab traders in his employment. He lately sent eight buffaloes to Mtéza, king of Uganda, son of Sunna, by way of increasing his trade, but if is not likely that he will give up the lucrative trade in ivory and slaves. Susi bought a hoe with a little gunpowder, then a cylinder of dura, three feet long by two feet in diameter, for the hoe: it is at least one hundredweight. Stone underground houses are reported in Rua, but whether natural or artificial Mohamad could not say. If a present is made to the Rua chiefs they never obstruct passengers. Chikosi, at whose village we passed a night, near Kalongosi, and Chiputa are both dead. The Mofwé fills during the greater rains, and spreads over a large district; elephants then wander in its marshes, and are killed easily by people in canoes: this happens every year, and Mohamad Bogharib waits now for this ivory. _7th to 21st February, 1868._--On inquiring of men who lave seen the underground houses in Rua, I find that they are very extensive, ranging along mountain sides for twenty miles, and in one part a rivulet flows inside. In some cases the doorways are level with the country adjacent: in others, ladders are used to climb up to them; inside they are said to be very large, and not the work of men, but of God. The people have plenty of fowls, and they too obtain shelter in these Troglodyte habitations. _23rd February, 1868._--I was visited by an important chief called Chapé, who said that he wanted to make friends with the English. He, Chisapi, Sama, Muabo, Karembwé, are of one tribe or family, the Oanza: he did not beg anything, and promised to send me a goat. FOOTNOTES: [59] Kirwa and its various corruptions, such as Shirwa, Chirua, and Kiroa, perpetually recur in Africa, and would almost seem to stand for "the island."--ED. CHAPTER XI. Riot in the camp. Mohamad's account of his long imprisonment. Superstitions about children's teeth. Concerning dreams. News of Lake Chowambé. Life of the Arab slavers. The Katanga gold supply. Muabo. Ascent of the Rua Mountains. Syde bin Habib. Birthday 19th March, 1868. Hostility of Mpwéto. Contemplates visiting Lake Bemba. Nile sources. Men desert. The shores of Moero. Visits Fungafunga. Beturn to Casembe's. Obstructiveness of "Cropped-ears." Accounts of Pereira and Dr. Lacerda. Major Monteiro. The line of Casembe's. Casembe explains the connection of the Lakes and the Luapula. Queen Moäri. Arab sacrifice. Kapika gets rid of his wife. _24th February, 1868._--Some slaves who came with Mohamad Bogharib's agent, abused my men this morning, as bringing unclean meat into the village to sell, though it had been killed by a man of the Wanyamwesi. They called out, "Kaffir, Kaffir!" and Susi, roused by this, launched forth with a stick; the others joined in the row, and the offenders were beat off, but they went and collected all their number and renewed the assault. One threw a heavy block of wood and struck Simon on the head, making him quite insensible and convulsed for some time. He has three wounds on the head, which may prove serious. This is the first outburst of Mohamadan bigotry we have met, and by those who know so little of the creed that it is questionable if one of them can repeat the formula: "La illaha illa lahu Mohamad Rasulela salla lahu, a leihi oa Salama." Simon recovered, but Gallahs are in general not strong. _25th February, 1868._--Mohamad called on me this morning to apologise for the outrage of yesterday, but no one was to blame except the slaves, and I wanted no punishment inflicted if they were cautioned for the future. It seems, plain that if they do not wish to buy the unclean meat they can let it alone,--no harm is done. The Wanyamwesi kill for all, and some Mohamadans say that they won't eat of it, but their wives and people do eat it privately. I asked Mohamad to-day if it were true that he was a prisoner at Casembe's. He replied, "Quite so." Some Garaganza people, now at Katanga, fought with Casembe, and Mohamad was suspected of being connected with them. Casembe attacked his people, and during the turmoil a hundred frasilahs of copper were stolen from him, and many of his people killed. Casembe kept him a prisoner till sixty of his people were either killed or died, among these Mohamad's eldest son: he was thus reduced to poverty. He gave something to Casembe to allow him to depart, and I suspect that my Sultan's letter had considerable influence in inducing Casembe to accede to his request, for he repeated again and again in my hearing that he must pay respect to my letter, and see me safe at least as far as Ujiji. Mohamad says that he will not return to Casembe again, but will begin to trade with some other chief: it is rather hard for a man at his age to begin _de novo_. He is respected among the Arabs, who pronounce him to be a good man. He says that he has been twenty-two years in Africa, and never saw an outburst like that of yesterday among the Wanyamwesi: it is, however, common for the people at Ujiji to drink palm toddy, and then have a general row in the bazaar, but no bad feeling exists next day. If a child cuts the upper front teeth before the lower, it is killed, as unlucky: this is a widely-spread superstition. When I was amongst the Makololo in 1859 one of Sekelétu's wives would not allow her servant's child to be killed for this, but few would have the courage to act in opposition to public feeling as she did. In Casembe's country if a child is seen to turn from one side to the other in sleep it is killed. They say of any child who has what they consider these defects "he is an Arab child," because the Arabs have none of this class of superstitions, and should any Arab be near they give the child to him: it would bring ill-luck, misfortunes, "milando," or guilt, to the family. These superstitions may account for the readiness with which one tribe parted with their children to Speke's followers. Mohamad says that these children must have been taken in war, as none sell their own offspring. If Casembe dreams of any man twice or three times he puts the man to death, as one who is practising secret arts against his life: if any one is pounding or cooking food for him he must preserve the strictest silence; these and other things show extreme superstition and degradation. During, his enforced detention Mohamad's friends advised him to leave Casembe by force, offering to aid him with their men, but he always refused. His father was the first to open this country to trade with the Arabs, and all his expenses while so doing were borne by himself; but Mohamad seems to be a man of peace, and unwilling to break the appearance of friendship with the chiefs. He thinks that this Casembe poisoned his predecessor: he certainly killed his wife's mother, a queen, that she might be no obstacle to him in securing her daughter. We are waiting in company with a number of Wanyamwesi for the cessation of the rains, which have flooded the country between this and Tanganyika. If there were much slope this water would flow off: this makes me suspect that Tanganyika is not so low as Speke's measurement. The Arabs are positive that water flows from that Lake to the Victoria Nyanza, and assert that Dagara, the father of Rumanyika, was anxious to send canoes from his place to Ujiji, or, as some say, to dig a canal to Ujiji. The Wanyamwesi here support themselves by shooting buffaloes, at a place two days distant, and selling the meat for grain and cassava: no sooner is it known that an animal is killed, than the village women crowd in here, carrying their produce to exchange it for meat, which they prefer to beads or anything else. Their farinaceous food creates a great craving for flesh: were my shoes not done I would go in for buffaloes too. A man from the upper part of Tanganyika gives the same account of the river from Rusisi that Burton and Speke received when they went to its mouth. He says that the water of the Lake goes up some distance, but is met by Rusisi water, and driven back thereby. The Lake water, he adds, finds an exit northwards and eastwards by several small rivers which would admit small canoes only. They pour into Lake Chowambé--probably that discovered by Mr. Baker. This Chowambé is in Hundi, the country of cannibals, but the most enlightened informants leave the impression on the mind of groping in the dark: it may be all different when we come to see it. The fruit of the palm, which yields palm-oil, is first of all boiled, then pounded in a mortar, then put into hot or boiling water, and the oil skimmed off. The palm-oil is said to be very abundant at Ujiji, as much as 300 gallons being often brought into the bazaar for sale in one morning; the people buy it eagerly for cooking purposes. Mohamad says that the Island of Pemba, near Zanzibar, contains many of these palms, but the people are ignorant of the mode of separating the oil from the nut: they call the palm Nkoma at Casembe's, and Chikichi at Zanzibar.[60] No better authority for what has been done or left undone by Mohamadans in this country can be found than Mohamad bin Saleh, for he is very intelligent, and takes an interest in all that happens, and his father was equally interested in this country's affairs. He declares that no attempt was ever made by Mohamadans to proselytize the Africans: they teach their own children to read the Koran, but them only; it is never translated, and to servants who go to the Mosque it is all dumb show. Some servants imbibe Mohamadan bigotry about eating, but they offer no prayers. Circumcision, to make _halel_, or fit to slaughter the animals for their master, is the utmost advance any have made. As the Arabs in East Africa never feel themselves called on to propagate the doctrines of Islam, among the heathen Africans, the statement of Captain Burton that they would make better missionaries to the Africans than Christians, because they would not insist on the abandonment of polygamy, possesses the same force as if he had said Mohamadans would catch more birds than Christians, because they would put salt on their tails. The indispensable requisite or qualification for any kind of missionary is that he have some wish to proselytize: this the Arabs do not possess in the slightest degree. As they never translate the Koran, they neglect the best means of influencing the Africans, who invariably wish to understand what they are about. When we were teaching adults the alphabet, they felt it a hard task. "Give me medicine, I shall drink it to make me understand it," was their earnest entreaty. When they have advanced so far as to form clear conceptions of Old Testament and Gospel histories, they tell them to their neighbours; and, on visiting distant tribes, feel proud to show how much they know: in this way the knowledge of Christianity becomes widely diffused. Those whose hatred to its self-denying doctrines has become developed by knowledge, propagate slanders; but still they speak of Christianity, and awaken attention. The plan, therefore, of the Christian missionary in imparting knowledge is immeasurably superior to that of the Moslem in dealing with dumb show. I have, however, been astonished to see that none of the Africans imitate the Arab prayers: considering their great reverence of the Deity, it is a wonder that they do not learn to address prayers to Him except on very extraordinary occasions. My remarks referring to the education by Mohamadans do not refer to the Suahelis, for they teach their children to read, and even send them to school. They are the descendants of Arab and African women and inhabit the coast line. Although they read, they understand very little Arabic beyond the few words which have been incorporated into Suaheli. The establishment of Moslem missions among the heathen is utterly unknown, and this is remarkable, because the Wanyamwesi, for instance, are very friendly with the Arabs--are great traders, too, like them, and are constantly employed as porters and native traders, being considered very trustworthy. They even acknowledge Seyed Majid's authority. The Arabs speak of all the Africans as _"Gumu_" that is hard or callous to the Mohamadan religion. Some believe that Kilimanjaro Mountain has mummies, as in Egypt, and that Moses visited it of old. Mungo Park mentions that he found the Africans in the far interior of the west in possession of the stories of Joseph and his brethren, and others. They probably got them from the Koran, as verbally explained by some liberal Mullah, and showed how naturally they spread any new ideas they obtained: they were astonished to find that Park knew the stories. The people at Katanga are afraid to dig for the gold in their country because they believe that it has been hidden where it is by "Ngolu," who is the owner of it. The Arabs translate Ngolu by Satan: it means Mézimo, or departed spirits, too. The people are all oppressed by their superstitions; the fear of death is remarkably strong. The Wagtails are never molested, because, if they were killed, death would visit the village; this too is the case with the small Whydah birds, the fear of death in the minds of the people saves them from molestation. But why should we be so prone to criticise? A remnant of our own superstitions is seen in the prejudice against sitting down thirteen to dinner, spilling the salt, and not throwing a little of it over the left shoulder. Ferdinand I., the King of Naples, in passing through the streets, perpetually put one hand into his pockets to cross the thumb over the finger in order to avert the influence of the evil eye! On the 6th, Muabo, the great chief of these parts, came to call on Mohamad: several men got up and made some antics before him, then knelt down and did obeisance, then Muabo himself jumped about a little, and all applauded. He is a good-natured-looking man, fond of a joke, and always ready with a good-humoured smile: he was praised very highly, Mpwéto was nothing to Muabo mokolu, the great Muabo; and he returned the praise by lauding Tipo Tipo and Mpamari, Mohamad's native name, which means, "Give me wealth, or goods." Mohamad made a few of the ungainly antics like the natives, and all were highly pleased, and went off rejoicing. Some Arabs believe that a serpent on one of the islands in the Nyanza Lake has the power of speaking, and is the same that beguiled Eve. It is a crime at Ujiji to kill a serpent, even though it enters a house and kills a kid! The native name, for the people of Ujiji is Wayeiyé, the very same as the people on the Zouga, near Lake Ngami. They are probably an offshoot from Ujiji.[61] There are underground stone houses in Kabiuré, in the range called Kakoma, which is near to our place of detention. _15th March, 1868._--The roots of the Nyumbo or Noombo open in four or five months from the time of planting, those planted by me on the 6th February have now stalks fifteen inches long. The root is reported to be a very wholesome food, never disagreeing with the stomach; and the raw root is an excellent remedy in obstinate vomiting and nausea; four or five tubers are often given by one root, in Marungu they attain a size of six inches in length by two in diameter. _16th March, 1868._--We started for Mpwéto's village, which is situated on the Lualaba, and in our course crossed the Lokinda, which had a hundred yards of flood water on each side of it. The river itself is forty yards wide, with a rude bridge over it, as it flows fast away into Moero. Next day we ascended the Rua Mountains, and reached the village of Mpwéto, situated in a valley between two ridges, about one mile from the right bank of the Lualaba, where it comes through the mountains. It then flows about two miles along the base of a mountain lying east and west before it begins to make northing: its course is reported to be very winding, this seems additional evidence that Tanganyika is not in a depression of only 1844 feet above the sea, otherwise the water of Lualaba would flow faster and make a straighter channel. It is said to flow into the Lufira, and that into Tanganyika. _18th March, 1868._--On reaching Mpwéto's yesterday we were taken up to the house of Syde bin Habib, which is built on a ridge overhanging the chiefs village, a square building of wattle and plaster, and a mud roof to prevent it being fired by an enemy. It is a very pretty spot among the mountains. Sariama is Bin Habib's agent, and he gave us a basket of flour and leg of kid. I sent a message to Mpwéto, which he politely answered by saying that he had no food ready in his village, but if we waited two days he would have some prepared, and would then see us. He knew what we should give him, and he need not tell us I met a man from Seskéké, left sick at Kirwa by Bin Habib and now with him here. A very beautiful young woman came to look at us, perfect in every way, and nearly naked, but unconscious of indecency; a very Venus in black. The light-grey, red-tailed parrot seen on the West Coast is common in Rua, and tamed by the natives.[62] _19th March, 1868._[63]--(Grant, Lord, grace to love Thee more and serve Thee better.) The favourite son of Mpwéto called on us; his father is said to do nothing without consulting him; but he did not seem to be endowed with much wisdom. _20th and 21st March, 1868._--Our interview was put off; and then a sight of the cloth we were to give was required. I sent a good large cloth, and explained that we were nearly out of goods now, having been travelling two years, and were going to Ujiji to get more. Mpwéto had prepared a quantity of pombe, a basket of meal, and a goat; and when he looked at them and the cloth, he seemed to feel that it would be a poor bargain, so he sent to say that we had gone to Casembe and given him many cloths, and then to Muabo, and if I did not give another cloth he would not see me. "He had never slept with only one cloth." "I had put medicine on this one to kill him, and must go away." It seems he was offended because we went to his great rival, Muabo, before visiting him. He would not see Syde bin Habib for eight days; and during that time was using charms to try if it would be safe to see him at all: on the ninth day he peeped past a door for some time to see if Bin Habib were a proper person, and then came out: he is always very suspicious. At last he sent an order to us to go away, and if we did not move, he would come with all his people and drive us off. Sariamo said if he were not afraid for Syde bin Habib's goods, he would make a stand against Mpwéto; but I had no wish to stay or to quarrel with a worthless chief, and resolved to go next day. (_24th March._) He abused a native trader with his tongue for coming to trade, and sent him away too. We slept again at our half-way village, Kapemba, just as a party of salt-traders from Rua came into it: they were tall, well-made men, and rather dark. _25th March, 1868._--Reached Kabwabwata at noon, and were welcomed by Mohamad and all the people. His son, Sheikh But, accompanied us; but Mohamad told us previously that it was likely Mpwéto would refuse to see us. The water is reported to be so deep in front that it is impossible to go north: the Wanyamwesi, who are detained here as well as we, say it is often more than a man's depth, and there are no canoes. They would not stop here if a passage home could be made. I am thinking of going to Lake Bemba, because at least two months must be passed here still before a passage can be made; but my goods are getting done, and I cannot give presents to the chiefs on our way. This Lake has a sandy, not muddy bottom, as we were at first informed, and there are four islands in it, one, the Bangweolo, is very large, and many people live on it; they have goats and sheep in abundance: the owners of canoes demand three hoes for the hire of one capable of carrying eight or ten persons; beyond this island it is sea horizon only. The tsébula and nzoé antelopes abound. The people desire salt and not beads for sale. _2nd April, 1868._--If I am not deceived by the information I have received from various reliable sources, the springs of the Nile rise between 9° and 10° south latitude, or at least 400 or 500 miles south of the south end of Speke's Lake, which he considered to be the sources of the Nile. Tanganyika is declared to send its water through north into Lake Chowambé or Baker's Lake; if this does not prove false, then Tanganyika is an expansion of the Nile, and so is Lake Chowambé; the two Lakes being connected by the River Loanda. Unfortunately the people on the east side of the Loanda are constantly at war with the people on the west of it, or those of Rusisi. The Arabs have been talking of opening up a path through to Chowambé, where much ivory is reported; I hope that the Most High may give me a way there. _11th April, 1868._--I had a long oration from Mohamad yesterday against going off for Bemba to-morrow. His great argument is the extortionate way of Casembe, who would demand cloth, and say that in pretending to go to Ujiji I had told him lies: he adds to this argument that this is the last month of the rains; the Masika has begun, and our way north will soon be open. The fact of the matter is that Mohamad, by not telling me of the superabundance of water in the country of the Marungu, which occurs every year, caused me to lose five months. He knew that we should be detained here, but he was so eager to get out of his state of durance with Casembe that he hastened my departure by asserting that we should be at Ujiji in one month. I regret this deception, but it is not to be wondered at, and in a Mohamadan and in a Christian too it is thought clever. Were my goods not nearly done I would go, and risk the displeasure of Casembe for the chance of discovering the Lake Bemba. I thought once of buying from Mohamad Bogharib, but am afraid that his stock may be getting low too: I fear that I must give up this Lake for the present. _12th April, 1868._--I think of starting to-morrow for Bangweolo, even if Casembe refuses a passage beyond him: we shall be better there than we are here, for everything at Kabwabwata is scarce and dear. There we can get a fowl for one string of beads, here it costs six: there fish may be bought, here none. Three of Casembe's principal men are here, Kakwata, Charley, and Kapitenga; they are anxious to go home, and would be a gain to me, but Mohamad detains them, and when I ask his reason he says "Muabo refuses," but they point to Mohamad's house and say, "It is he who refuses." [A very serious desertion took place at this time amongst Dr. Livingstone's followers. Not to judge them too harshly they had become to a great extent demoralised by camp life with Mohamad and his horde of slaves and slavers. The Arab tried all he could to dissuade the traveller from proceeding south instead of homewards through Ujiji, and the men seem to have found their own breaking-point where this disappointment occurred.] _13th April, 1868._--On preparing to start this morning my people refused to go: the fact is, they are all tired, and Mohamad's opposition encourages them. Mohamad, who was evidently eager to make capital out of their refusal, asked me to remain over to-day, and then demanded what I was going to do with those who had absconded. I said, "Nothing: if a magistrate were on the spot, I would give them over to him." "Oh," said he, "I am magistrate, shall I apprehend them?" To this I assented. He repeated this question till it was tiresome: I saw his reason long afterwards, when he asserted that I "came to him and asked him to bind them, but he had refused:" he wanted to appear to the people as much better than I am. _14th April, 1868._--I start off with five attendants, leaving most of the luggage with Mohamad, and reach the Luao to spend the night. Headman Ndowa. _15th April, 1868._--Amoda ran away early this morning. "Wishes to stop with his brothers." They think that, by refusing to go to Bemba, they will force me to remain with them, and then go to Ujiji: one of them has infused the idea into their minds that I will not pay them, and exclaims "Look at the sepoys!"--not knowing that they are paid by the Indian Government; and as for the Johanna men, they were prepaid _29l. 4s._ in cash, besides clothing. I sent Amoda's bundle back to Mohamad: my messenger got to Kabwabwata before Amoda did, and he presented himself to my Arab friend, who, of course, scolded him: he replied that he was tired of carrying, and no other fault had he; I may add that I found out that Amoda wished to come south to me with one of Mohamad Bogharib's men, but "Mpamari" told him not to return. Now that I was fairly started, I told my messenger to say to Mohamad that I would on no account go to Ujiji, till I had done all in my power to reach the Lake I sought: I would even prefer waiting at Luao or Moero, till people came to me from Ujiji to supplant the runaways. I did not blame them very severely in my own mind for absconding: they were tired of tramping, and so verily am I, but Mohamad, in encouraging them to escape to him, and talking with a double tongue, cannot be exonerated from blame. Little else can be expected from him, he has lived some thirty-five years in the country, twenty-five being at Casembe's, and there he had often to live by his wits. Consciousness of my own defects makes me lenient. _16th April, 1868._--Ndowa gives Mita or Mpamañkanana as the names of the excavations in Muabo's hills, he says that they are sufficient to conceal all the people of this district in case of war: I conjecture that this implies room for ten thousand people: provisions are stored in them, and a perennial rivulet runs along a whole street of them. On one occasion, when the main entrance was besieged by an enemy, someone who knew all the intricacies of the excavations led a party out by a secret passage, and they, coming over the invaders, drove them off with heavy loss. Their formation is universally ascribed to the Deity. This may mean that the present inhabitants have succeeded the original burrowing race, which dug out many caves adjacent to Mount Hor--the _Jebel Nébi Harin_, Mount of the Prophet Aaron, of the Arabs--and many others; and even the Bushman caves, a thousand miles south of this region. A very minute, sharp-biting mosquito is found here: the women try to drive them out of their huts by whisking bundles of green leaves all round the walls before turning into them. _17th August, 1868._--Crossed the Luao by a bridge, thirty yards long, and more than half a mile of flood on each side; passed many villages, standing on little heights, which overlook plains filled with water. Some three miles of grassy plains abreast of Moero were the deepest parts, except the banks of Luao. We had four hours of wading, the bottom being generally black tenacious mud. Ruts had been formed in the paths by the feet of passengers: these were filled with soft mud, and, as they could not be seen, the foot was often placed on the edge, and when the weight came on it, down it slumped into the mud, half-way up the calves; it was difficult to draw it out, and very fatiguing. To avoid these ruts we encroached on the grass at the sides of the paths, but often stepping on the unseen edge of a rut, we floundered in with both feet to keep the balance, and this was usually followed by a rush of bubbles to the surface, which, bursting, discharged foul air of frightful faecal odour. In parts, the black mud and foul water were cold, in others hot, according as circulation went on or not. When we came near Moero, the water became half-chest and whole-chest deep; all perishable articles had to be put on the head. We found a party of fishermen on the sands, and I got a hut, a bath in the clear but tepid waters, and a delicious change of dress. Water of Lake, 83° at 3 P.M. _18th April, 1868._--We marched along the north end of Moero, which has a south-east direction. The soft yielding sand which is flanked by a broad belt of tangled tropical vegetation and trees, added to the fatigues of yesterday, so finding a deserted fisherman's village near the eastern hills, we gladly made it our quarters for Sunday (19th). I made no mark, but the Lake is at least twenty feet higher now than it was on our first visits, and there are banks showing higher rises even than this. Large fish-baskets made of split reeds are used in trios for catching small fish; one man at each basket drives fish ashore. _20th April, 1868._--Went on to Katétté River, and then to a strong torrent; slept at a village on the north bank of the River Vuna, where, near the hills, is a hot fountain, sometimes used to cook cassava and maize. _21st April, 1868._--Crossed the Vuna and went on to Kalembwé's village, meeting the chief at the gate, who guided us to a hut, and manifested great curiosity to see all our things; he asked if we could not stop next day and drink beer, which would then be ready. Leopards abound here. The Lake now seems broader than ever. I could not conceive that a hole in the cartilage of the nose could be turned to any account except to hold an ornament, though that is usually only a bit of grass, but a man sewing the feathers on his arrows used his nose-hole for holding a needle! In coming on to Kangalola we found the country swimming: I got separated from the company, though I saw them disappear in the long grass not a hundred yards off and shouted, but the splashing of their feet prevented any one hearing. I could not find a path going south, so I took one to the east to a village; the grass was so long and tangled, I could scarcely get along, at last I engaged a man to show me the main path south, and he took me to a neat village of a woman--Nyinakasangaand would go no further, "Mother Kasanga," as the name means, had been very handsome, and had a beautiful daughter, probably another edition of herself, she advised my waiting in the deep shade of the Ficus indica, in which her houses were placed. I fired a gun, and when my attendants came gave her a string of beads, which made her express distress at my "leaving without drinking anything of hers." People have abandoned several villages on account of the abundance of ferocious wild beasts. _23rd April, 1868._--Through very thick tangled Nyassi grass to Chikosi's burned village; Nsama had killed him. We spent the night in a garden hut, which the fire of the village had spared. Turnips were growing in the ruins. The Nyassi, or long coarse grass, hangs over the paths, and in pushing it aside the sharp seeds penetrate the clothes and are very annoying. The grass itself rubs on the face and eyes disagreeably: when it is burned off and greensward covers the soil it is much more pleasant walking. 24th _April, 1868._--We leave Chikosi's ruins and make for the ford of the Kalungosi. Marigolds are in full bloom all over the forest, and so are foxgloves. The river is here fully 100 yards broad with 300 yards of flood on its western bank; so deep we had to remain in the canoes till within 50 yards of the higher ground. The people here chew the pith of the papyrus, which is three inches in diameter and as white as snow: it has very little sweetness or anything else in it. The headman of the village to which we went was out cutting wood for a garden, and his wife refused us a hut, but when Kansabala came in the evening he scolded his own spouse roundly and all the wives of the village, and then pressed me to come indoors, but I was well enough in my mosquito curtain without, and declined: I was free from insects and vermin, and few huts are so. _25th April, 1868._--Off early west, and then on to an elevated forest land, in which our course was S.S.W. to the great bend of the rivulet Kifurwa, which enters Moero near to the mouth of the Kalungosi. _26th April, 1868._--Here we spent Sunday in our former woodcutters' huts. Yesterday we were met by a party of the same occupation, laden with bark-cloth, which they had just been stripping off the trees. Their leader would not come along the path because I was sitting near it: I invited him to do so, but it would have been disrespectful to let his shadow fall on any part of my person, so he went a little out of the way: this politeness is common. _27th April, 1868._--But a short march to Fungafunga's village: we could have gone on to the Muatizé, but no village exists there, and here we could buy food. Fungafunga's wife gave a handsome supper to the stranger: on afterwards acknowledging it to her husband he said, "That is your village; always go that way and eat my provisions." He is a Monyamwezi trading in the country for copper, hoes, and slaves. Parrots are here in numbers stealing Holcus sorghum in spite of the shouts of the women. We cross Muatizé by a bridge of one large tree, getting a good view of Moero from a hill near Kabukwa, and sleep at Chirongo River. _29th April, 1868._--At the Mandapala River. Some men here from the Chungu, one of whom claimed to be a relative of Casembe, made a great outcry against our coming a second time to Casembe without waiting at the Kalungosi for permission. One of them, with his ears cropped short off, asked me when I was departing north if I should come again. I replied, "Yes, I think I shall." They excited themselves by calling over the same thing again and again. "The English come the second time!" "The second time--the second time--the country spoiled! Why not wait at the Kalungosi? Let him return thither." "Come from Mpamari too, and from the Bagaraganza or Banyamwezi!!" "The second time--the second time!" Then all the adjacent villagers were called in to settle this serious affair. I look up to that higher Power to influence their minds as He has often done before. I persuaded them to refer the matter to Casembe himself by sending a man with one of mine up to the town. They would not consent to go on to the Chungu, as the old cropped-eared man would have been obliged to come back the distance again, he having been on the way to the Kalungosi as a sentinel of the ford. Casembe is reasonable and fair, but his people are neither, and will do anything to mulct either strangers or their own countrymen. _30th April, 1868._--The cold of winter has begun, and dew is deposited in great quantities, but all the streams are very high in flood, though the rains have ceased here some time. _1st May, 1868._--At the Mandapala River. I sent a request to Mohamad Bogharib to intercede with Casembe for me for a man to show the way to Chikumbi, who is near to Bangweolo. I fear that I have become mixed up in the Lunda mind with Mpamari (Mohamad bin Saleh), from having gone off with him and returning ere we reached Ujiji, whither ostensibly we were bound. I may be suspected of being in his confidence, and of forwarding his plans by coming back. A deaf and dumb man appears among the people here, making signs exactly as I have seen such do in England, and occasionally emitting a low unmodulated guttural drawl like them. _3rd May, 1868._--Abraham, my messenger, came back, while we were at afternoon prayers, with good news for us, but what made Cropped-ears quite chopfallen was that Casembe was quite gracious! He did not wish me to go away, and now I am welcome back; and as soon as we hear of peace at Chikumbi's we shall have a man to conduct us thither. The Mazitu were reported to have made an inroad into Chikumbi's country; and it was said that chief had fled, and Casembe had sent messengers to hear the truth. Thanks to the Most High for His kindness and influence. _4th May, 1868._--We leave the Mandapala. Cropped-ears, whose name I never heard, collapsed at once on hearing the message of Casembe: before that I never heard such a babbler, to every one passing, man or woman, he repeated the same insinuations about the English, and "Mpamari," and the Banyamwezi,--conspiracy--guilt--return a second time,--till, like a meddling lawyer, he thought that he had really got an important case in hand! The River Chungu we found to be from fifteen to eighteen yards broad and breast deep, with at least one hundred yards of flood, before we reached the main stream, the Mandapala. The Chungu and the Lundi join in the country called Kimbafuma, about twelve miles from our crossing-place of Mandapala, and about west of it. The Lundi was now breast deep too, and twelve yards broad. On reaching Casembe's, on the Mofwé, we found Mohamad Bogharib digging and fencing up a well to prevent his slaves being taken away by the crocodiles, as three had been eaten already. A dog bit the leg of one of my goats so badly that I was obliged to kill it: they are nasty curs here, without courage, and yet they sometimes bite people badly. I met some old friends, and Mohamad Bogharib cooked a supper, and from this time forward never omitted sharing his victuals with me. _6th May, 1868._--Manoel Caetano Pereira visited Casembe in 1796, or seventy-two years ago: his native name was Moendo-mondo, or the world's leg--"world-wide traveller!" He came to Mandapala, for there the Casembe of the time resided, and he had a priest or "Kasisé" with him, and many people with guns. Pérémbé, the oldest man now in Lunda, had children even then: if Pérémbé were thirty years of age at that period he would now be 102 years old, and he seems quite that, for when Dr. Lacerda came he had forty children. He says that Pereira fired off all his guns on his arrival, and Casembe asking him what he meant by that, he replied, "These guns ask for slaves and ivory," both of which were liberally given. I could not induce Pérémbé to tell anything of times previous to his own. Moendo-mondo, the world's leg (Pereira), told Dr. Lacerda that the natives called him "The Terror!"--a bit of vanity, for they have no such word or abstract term in their language. When Major Monteiro was here the town of Casembe was on the same spot as now, but the Mosumba, or enclosure of the chief, was about 500 yards S.E. of the present one. Monteiro went nowhere and did nothing, but some of his attendants went over to the Luapula, some six miles distant. He complains in his book of having been robbed by the Casembe of the time. On asking the present occupant of the office why Monteiro's goods were taken from him, he replied, that he was then living at another village and did not know of the affair. Mohamad bin Saleh was present, and he says that Monteiro's statement is false: no goods were forced from him; but it was a year of scarcity, and Monteiro had to spend his goods in buying food instead of slaves and ivory, and made up the tale of Casembe plundering him to appease his creditors. A number of men were sent with Monteiro as an honorary escort. Kapika, an old man now living, was the chief or one of the chiefs of this party, and he says that he went to Tette, Senna, and Quillimane with Monteiro: this honorary escort seems confirmatory of Mohamad's explanation, for had Casembe robbed the Major none would have been granted or received. It is warmer here than we found it in the way; clouds cover the sky and prevent radiation. The sorghum is now in full ear. People make very neat mats of the leaves of the Shuaré palm. I got lunars this time. _9th May, 1868._--Eight or ten men went past us this morning, sent by the chief to catch people whom he intends to send to his paramount chief, Matiamvo, as a tribute of slaves. Pérémbé gives the following list of the Casembes:-- I. KANYIMBE, came from Lunda, attracted by the fish of Mofwé and Moero, and conquered Pérémbé's forefather, Katéré, who planted the first palm-oil palms here from seeds got in Lunda. It is probable that the intercourse then set afoot led to Kanyimbé's coming and conquest. II. KINYANTA. III. NGUANDA MILONDA. IV. KANYEMBO. V. LEKWISA. VI. KIRÉKA. VII. KAPUMBA. VIII. KINYANTA. IX. LEKWISA, still alive, but a fugitive at Nsama's. X. MUONGA, the present ruler, who drove Lékwisa away. The Portuguese came to Kiréka, who is said to have been very liberal with presents of ivory, slaves, and cattle. The present man has good sense, and is very fair in his judgments, but stingy towards his own people as well as strangers: nevertheless I have had good reason to be satisfied with his conduct to me. Maiyé, not in the list, and 7, 8, 9, 10 are the children of Kiréka. Muonga is said by the others to be a slave "born out of the house," that is, his mother was not of the royal line; she is an ugly old woman, and greedy. I got rid of her begging by giving her the beads she sought, and requesting her to cook some food for me; she begged no more, afraid that I would press my claim for provisions! _10th May, 1868._--I sent to Casembe for a guide to Luapula, he replied that he had not seen me nor given me any food; I must come to-morrow: but next day he was occupied in killing a man for witchcraft and could not receive us, but said that he would on the 12th. He sent 15 fish (perch) from Mofwé, and a large basket of dried cassava. I have taken lunars several times, measuring both sides of the moon about 190 times, but a silly map-maker may alter the whole for the most idiotic of reasons. _13th May, 1868._--Mohamad Bogharib has been here some seven months, and bought three tusks only; the hunting, by Casembe's people, of elephants in the Mofwé has been unsuccessful. We did not get an audience from Casembe; the fault lay with Kapika--Monteiro's escort--being afraid to annoy Casembe by putting him in mind of it, but on the 15th Casembe sent for me, and told me that as the people had all fled from Chikumbi's, he would therefore send guides to take us to Kabaia, where there was still a population; he wished me to wait a few days till he had looked out good men as guides, and ground some flour for us to use in the journey. He understood that I wished to go to Bangweolo; and it was all right to do what my own chief had sent me for, and then come back to him. It was only water--the same as Luapula, Mofwé, and Moero; nothing to be seen. His people must not molest me again, but let me go where I liked. This made me thank Him who has the hearts of all in His hand. Casembe also admitted that he had injured "Mpamari," but he would send him some slaves and ivory in reparation: he is better than his people, who are excessively litigious, and fond of milandos or causes--suits. He asked if I had not the leopard's skin he gave me to sit on, as it was bad to sit on the ground; I told him it had so many holes in it people laughed at it and made me ashamed, but he did not take the hint to give me another. He always talks good sense when he has not swilled beer or pombe: all the Arabs are loud in his praises, but they have a bad opinion of the Queen Moäri or Ngombé or Kifuta. The Garaganza people at Katanga killed a near relative of Casembe and herself, and when the event happened, Fungafunga, one of the Garaganza or Banyamwezi being near the spot, fled and came to the Mofwé: he continued his flight as soon as it was dark without saying anything to anyone, until he got north to Kabiuré. The Queen and Casembe suspected Mpamari of complicity with the Banyamwezi, and believed that Fungafunga had communicated the news to him before fleeing further. A tumult was made; Mpamari's eldest son was killed; and he was plundered of all his copper, ivory, and slaves: the Queen loudly demanded his execution, but Casembe restrained his people as well as he was able and it is for this injury that he now professes to be sorry. The Queen only acted according to the principles of her people. "Mpamari killed my son, kill his son--himself." It is difficult to get at the truth, for Mohamad or Mpamari never tells the whole truth. He went to fight Nsama with Muonga, and was wounded in the foot and routed, and is now glad to get out of Lunda back to Ujiji. _(16th May.)_ Complete twenty sets of lunars. _11th May, 1868._--Mohamad Bogharib told Casembe that he could buy nothing, and therefore was going away, Casembe replied that he had no ivory and he might go: this was sensible; he sent far and near to find some, but failed, and now confesses a truth which most chiefs hide from unwillingness to appear poor before foreigners. _18th and 19th May, 1868._--It is hot here though winter; but cold by night. Casembe has sent for fish for us. News came that one of Syde bin Habib's men had come to Chikumbi on his way to Zanzibar. _20th May, 1868._--A thunder-shower from the east laid the dust and cooled the ground: the last shower of this season, as a similar slight shower was the finish up of the last on the 12th of May. _(21st May._) This cannot be called a rainy month: April is the last month of the wet season, and November the first. _22nd May, 1868._--Casembe is so slow with his fish, meal, and guides, and his people so afraid to hurry him, that I think of going off as soon as Mohamad Bogharib moves; he is going to Chikumbi's to buy copper, and thence he will proceed to Uvira to exchange that for ivory; but this is at present kept as a secret from his slaves. The way seems thus to be opening for me to go to the large Lake west of Uvira. I told Casembe that we were going; he said to me that if in coming back I had found no travelling party, I must not risk going by Nsama's road with so few people, but must go to his brother Moenempanda, and he would send men to guide me to him, and thence he would send me safely by his path along Lake Moero: this was all very good. _23rd May, 1868._--The Arabs made a sort of sacrifice of a goat which was cooked all at once; they sent a good dish of it to me. They read the Koran very industriously, and prayed for success or luck in leaving, and seem sincerely religious, according to the light that is in them. The use of incense and sacrifices brings back the old Jewish times to mind. A number of people went off to the Kanengwa, a rivulet an hour south of this, to build huts; there they are to take leave of Casembe, for the main body goes off to-morrow, after we have seen the new moon. They are very particular in selecting lucky days, and anything unpleasant that may have happened in one month is supposed to be avoided by choosing a different day for beginning an enterprise in the next. Mohamad left Uvira on the third day of a new moon, and several fires happened in his camp; he now considers a third day inauspicious. Casembe's dura or sorghum is ripe to-day: he has eaten mapemba or dura, and all may thereafter do the same: this is just about the time when it ripens and is reaped at Kolobeng, thus the difference in the seasons is not great. _24th May, 1868._--Detained four days yet. Casembe's chief men refuse to escort Mohamad Bogharib; they know him to be in debt, and fear that he may be angry, but no dunning was intended. Casembe was making every effort to get ivory to liquidate it, and at last got a couple of tusks, which he joyfully gave to Mohamad: he has risen much in the estimation of us all. _26th May, 1868._--Casembe's people killed five buffaloes by chasing them into the mud and water of Mofwé, so he is seeing to the division of the meat, and will take leave to-morrow. _28th May, 1868._--We went to Casembe; he was as gracious as usual. A case of crim. con. was brought forward against an Arab's slave, and an attempt was made to arrange the matter privately by offering three cloths, beads, and another slave, but the complainant refused everything. Casembe dismissed the case by saying to the complainant, "You send your women to entrap the strangers in order to get a fine, but you will get nothing:" this was highly applauded by the Arabs, and the owner of the slave heaped dust on his head, as many had done before for favours received. Casembe, still anxious to get ivory for Mohamad, proposed another delay of four days to send for it; but all are tired, and it is evident that it is not want of will that prevents ivory being produced. His men returned without any, and he frankly confessed inability: he is evidently very poor. _30th May, 1868._--We went to the Kanengwa rivulet at the south end of Mofwé, which forms a little lagoon there fifty yards broad and thigh deep; but this is not the important feeder of the Lagoon, which is from two to three miles broad, and nearly four long: that has many large flat sedgy islands in it, and its water is supplied by the Mbérézé from south-east. _31st May, 1868._--Old Kapika sold his young and good-looking wife for unfaithfulness, as he alleged. The sight of a lady in the chain-gang shocked the ladies of Lunda, who ran to her, and having ascertained from her own mouth what was sufficiently apparent, that she was a slave now, clapped their hands on their mouths in the way that they express wonder, surprise, and horror: the hand is placed so that the fingers are on one cheek and the thumb on the other. The case of the chieftainess excited great sympathy among the people; some brought her food, Kapika's daughters brought her pombe and bananas; one man offered to redeem her with two, another with three slaves, but Casembe, who is very strict in punishing infidelity, said, "No, though ten slaves be offered she must go." He is probably afraid of his own beautiful queen should the law be relaxed. Old Kapika came and said to her, "You refused me, and I now refuse you." A young wife of old Pérémbé was also sold as a punishment, but redeemed. There is a very large proportion of very old and very tall men in this district. The slave-trader is a means of punishing the wives which these old fogies ought never to have had. Casembe sent me about a hundredweight of the small fish Nsipo, which seems to be the whitebait of our country; it is a little bitter when cooked alone, but with ground-nuts is a tolerable relish: we can buy flour with these at Chikumbi's. FOOTNOTES: [60] Chikichi nuts have been an article of trade and export for some time from Zanzibar. The oil-palm grows wild in Pemba. [61] A chief named Moené Ungu, who admires the Arabs, sent his children to Zanzibar to be instructed to read and write. [62] This bird is often brought to Zanzibar by the Ivory Caravans. [63] The Doctor's birthday. CHAPTER XII. Prepares to examine Lake Bemba. Starts from Casembe's 11th June, 1868. Dead leopard. Moenampanda's reception. The River Luongo. Weird death-song of slaves. The forest grave. Lake Bembo changed to Lake Bangweolo. Chikumbi's. The Imbozhwa people. Kombokombo's stockade. Mazitu difficulties. Discovers Lake Bangweolo on 18th July, 1868. The Lake Chief Mapuni. Description of the Lake. Prepares to navigate it. Embarks for Lifungé Island. Immense size of Lake. Reaches Mpabala Island. Strange dream. Fears of canoe men. Return to shore. March back. Sends letters. Meets Banyamweze. Reviews recent explorations at length. Disturbed state of country. _1st June, 1868._--Mohamad proposes to go to Katanga to buy copper, and invites me to go too. I wish to see the Lufra Kiver, but I must see Bemba or Bangweolo. Grant guidance from above! _2nd June, 1868._--In passing a field of cassava I picked the pods of a plant called Malumbi, which climbs up the cassava bushes; at the root it has a number of tubers with eyes, exactly like the potato. One plant had sixteen of these tubers, each about 2 inches long and 1-1/2 inch in diameter: another tuber was 5 inches long and 2 in diameter, it would be difficult for anyone to distinguish them from English potatoes. When boiled they are a little waxy, and, compared with our potato, hard. There are colours inside, the outer part reddish, the inner whiter. At first none of the party knew them, but afterwards they were recognised as cultivated at Zanzibar by the name "Men," and very good when mashed with fish: if in Zanzibar, they are probably known in other tropical islands, _4th June, 1868._--From what I see of slaving, even in its best phases, I would not be a slave-dealer for the world. _5th June, 1868._--The Queen Moäri passed us this morning, going to build a hut at her plantation; she has a pleasant European countenance, clean light-brown skin, and a merry laugh, and would be admired anywhere. I stood among the cassava to see her pass; she twirled her umbrella as she came near, borne by twelve men, and seemed to take up the laugh which made her and her maids bolt at my reception, showing that she laughs not with her mouth only, but with her eyes and cheeks: she said, "Yambo" (how are you)? To which I replied, "Tambo sana" (very well). One of her attendants said, "Give her something of what you have at hand, or in the pockets." I said, "I have nothing here," and asked her if she would come back near my hut. She replied that she would, and I duly sent for two strings of red beads, which I presented. Being lower than she, I could see that she had a hole through the cartilage, near the point of her slightly aquiline nose; and a space was filed between the two front teeth, so as to leave a triangular hole. [Illustration: Filed Teeth of Queen Moäri.] After delay had grown vexatious, we march three hours on the 9th, and reach the Katofia River, covered with aquatic trees and running into the Mbérézé: five yards wide and knee deep. _10th June, 1868._--Detained again, for business is not finished with the people of Casembe. The people cannot esteem the slave-trader, who is used as a means of punishing those who have family differences, as those of a wife with her husband, or a servant with his master. The slaves are said to be generally criminals, and are sold in revenge or as punishment. Kapika's wife had an ornament of the end of a shell called the cone; it was borrowed and she came away with it in her hair: the owner, without making any effort to recover it, seized one of Kapika's daughters as a pledge that Kapika would exert himself to get it back! [At last the tedious delay came to an end and we must now follow the Doctor on his way south to discover Lake Bemba.] _11th June, 1868._--Crossed the Mbérézé, ten yards broad and thigh deep, ascending a range of low hills of hardened sandstone, covered, as the country generally is, with forest. Our course S.E. and S.S.E. Then descended into a densely-wooded valley, having a rivulet four yards wide and knee deep. Buffaloes and elephants very numerous. _12th June, 1868._--We crossed the Mbérézé again twice; then a very deep narrow rivulet, and stopped at another in a mass of trees, where we spend the night, and killing an ox remained next day to eat it. When at Kanengwa a small party of men came past, shouting as if they had done something of importance: on going to them, I found that two of them carried a lion slung to a pole. It was a small maneless variety, called "the lion of _Nyassi_," or long grass. It had killed a man and they killed it. They had its mouth carefully strapped, and the paws tied across its chest, and were taking it to Casembe. _Nyassi_ means long grass, such as towers overhead, and is as thick in the stalk as a goose-quill; and is erroneously applied to Nyassa. Other lions--Thambwé, Karamo, Simba, are said to stand 5 feet high, and some higher: this seemed about 3 feet high, but it was too dark to measure it. _13th June, 1868._--The Arabs distinguish the Suaheli, or Arabs of mixed African blood, by the absence of beard and whiskers: these are usually small and stunted in the Suaheli. Birds, as the Drongo shrike, and a bird very like the grey linnet, with a thick reddish bill, assemble in very large flocks now that it is winter, and continue thus till November, or period of the rains. A very minute bee goes into the common small holes in wormeaten wood to make a comb and lay its eggs, with a supply of honey. There are seven or eight honey-bees of small size in this country. A sphex may be seen to make holes in the ground, placing stupified insects in them with her eggs; another species watches when she goes off to get more insects, and every now and then goes in too to lay her eggs, I suppose without any labour: there does not appear to be any enmity between them. We remained a day to buy food for the party, and eat our ox. _14th June, 1868._--March over well-wooded highlands with dolomite rocks cropping out and trees all covered with lichens, the watershed then changed to the south. _15th June, 1868._--Yery cold in mornings now (43°). Found Moenempanda, Casembe's brother, on the Luluputa, a stream twenty yards wide and flowing west. The Moenempanda visited by the Portuguese was grandfather to this one, and not at the same spot; it is useless to put down the names of chiefs as indicating geographical positions, for the name is often continued, but at a spot far distant from the dwelling of the original possessor. A slave tried to break out of his slave-stick, and actually broke half an inch of tough iron with his fingers; the end stuck in the wood, or he would have freed himself. The chief gave me a public reception, which was like that of Casembe, but better managed. He is young, and very handsome but for a defect in his eyes, which makes him keep them half shut or squinting. He walked off in the jaunty way all chiefs do in this country, to show the weight of rings and beads on the legs, and many imitate this walk who have none, exactly as our fathers imitated the big cravat of George IV., who thereby hid defects in his neck: thousands carried their cravats over the chin who had no defects to hide. Moenempanda carried his back stiffly, and no wonder, he had about ten yards of a train carried behind it. About 600 people were present. They kept rank, but not step; were well armed; marimbas and square drums formed the bands, and one musician added his voice: "I have been to Syde" (the Sultan); "I have been to Meereput" (King of Portugal); "I have been to the sea." At a private reception, where he was divested of his train, and had only one umbrella instead of three, I gave him a cloth. The Arabs thought highly of him; but his graciousness had been expended on them in getting into debt; he now showed no inclination to get out of it, but offered about a twentieth part of the value of the goods in liquidation. He sent me two pots of beer, which I care not to drink except when very thirsty on a march, and promised a man to guide me to Chikumbi, and then refused. Casembe rose in the esteem of all as Moenempanda sank, and his people were made to understand how shabbily he had behaved. The Lulaputa is said to flow into the Luéna, and that into the Luongo: there must be two Luénas. _22nd June, 1868._--March across a grassy plain southerly to the Luongo, a deep river embowered in a dense forest of trees, all covered with lichens--some flat, others long and thready, like old men's beards, and waving in the wind, just as they do on the mangrove-swamp trees on the coast. The Luongo here is fifty yards broad and three fathoms deep; near its junction with the Luapula it is 100 yards; it rises here to eight fathoms' depth. A bridge of forty yards led us over to an island, and a branch of the river was ten yards beyond: the bridge had been broken, some thought on purpose, but it was soon mended with trees eighteen to twenty yards long. We went a little way beyond, and then halted for a day at a rivulet flowing into the Luongo, 200 yards off. _23rd June, 1868._--We waited for copper here, which was at first refused as payment of debt. I saw now that the Luongo had steep clay banks fifteen feet down, and many meadows, which must be swimming during the rains. The Luéna is said to rise east of this. [In a private letter Livingstone shows that he had seldom been more affected by the sufferings of slaves than at this time, and it would perhaps be difficult to imagine any scene more calculated to excite misery and distress of mind. The following incident deals with the firm belief in a future state, which enters so largely into the minds of all Africans, and which for very lack of guidance assumes all the distorted growths of superstition. He must be of a thankless spirit who does not long to substitute the great vision of future peace afforded by Christianity, in lieu of the ghastly satisfaction which cheered these men, when he sees by the light of this story the capacity that exists for realising a life beyond the grave.] _24th June, 1868._--Six men slaves were singing as if they did not feel the weight and degradation of the slave-sticks. I asked the cause of their mirth, and was told that they rejoiced at the idea "of coming back after death and haunting and killing those who had sold them." Some of the words I had to inquire about; for instance, the meaning of the words "to haunt and kill by spirit power;" then it was, "Oh, you sent me off to Manga (sea-coast), but the yoke is off when I die, and back I shall come to haunt and to kill you." Then all joined in the chorus, which was the name of each vendor. It told not of fun, but of the bitterness and tears of such as were oppressed, and on the side of the oppressors there was a power: there be higher than they! Pérémbé was one of the culprits thus menaced. The slave-owner asked Kapika's wife if she would return to kill Kapika. The others answered to the names of the different men with laughter. Her heart was evidently sore: for a lady to come so low down is to her grievous. She has lost her jaunty air, and is, with her head shaved, ugly; but she never forgets to address her captors with dignity, and they seem to fear her. _25th June, 1868._--We went over flat forest with patches of brown haematite cropping out; this is the usual iron ore, but I saw in a village pieces of specular iron-ore which had been brought for smelting. The Luongo flowed away somewhat to our right or west, and the villagers had selected their site where only well-water could be found: we went ten minutes towards the Luongo and got abundance. [Illustration: A Forest Grave.] The gardens had high hedges round to keep off wild beasts. We came to a grave in the forest; it was a little rounded mound as if the occupant sat in it in the usual native way: it was strewed over with flour, and a number of the large blue beads put on it: a little path showed that it had visitors. This is the sort of grave I should prefer: to lie in the still, still forest, and no hand ever disturb my bones. The graves at home always seemed to me to be miserable, especially those in the cold damp clay, and without elbow room; but I have nothing to do but wait till He who is over all decides where I have to lay me down and die. Poor Mary lies on Shupanga brae, "and beeks fornent the sun."[64] Came to the Chando River, which is the boundary between Casembe and Chikumbi; but Casembe is over all. _27th June, 1868._--We crossed a flooded marsh with the water very cold, and then the Chando itself twelve feet broad and knee deep, then on to another strong brook Nsénga. _28th June, 1868._--After service we went on up hills to a stockade of Banyamwezi, on the Kalomina River, and here we built our sheds; the spot is called Kizinga, and is on the top of a sandstone range covered as usual with forest. The Banyamwezi beat off the Mazitu with their guns, while all the country people fled. The Banyamwezi are decidedly uglier than the Balonda and Baitawa: they eat no fish, though they come from the east side of Tanganyika, where fish are abundant and cheap; but though uglier, they have more of the sense of honour with traders than the aborigines. _29th June, 1868._--Observed the "smokes" to-day, the first of the season:[65] they obscured the whole country. _1st July, 1868._--I went over to Chikumbi, the paramount chief of this district, and gave him a cloth, begging a man to guide me to Bangweolo. He said that I was welcome to his country; all were so: I had better wait two days till he had selected a _good_ man as a guide, and he would send some food for me to eat in the journey--he would not say ten days, but only two, and his man would take me to the smaller part of the Lake, and leave others to forward me to the greater or Bangweolo. The smaller part is named Bemba, but that name is confusing, because Bemba is the name of the country in which a portion of the Lake lies. When asking for Lake Bemba, Kasongo's son said to me, "Bemba is not a lake, but a country:" it is therefore better to use the name BANGWEOLO, which is applied to the great mass of the water, though I fear that our English folks will bogle at it, or call it Bungyhollow! Some Arabs say Bambeolo as easier of pronunciation, but Bangweolo is the correct word. Chikumbi's stockade is 1-1/2 hour S.E. of our camp at Kizinga. _2nd July, 1868._--Writing to the Consul at Zanzibar to send supplies of cloth to Ujiji--120 pieces, 40 Kiniki; 80 merikano 34 inches broad, or samsam. Fine red beads--Talaka, 12 frasilas. I ask for soap, coffee, sugar, candles, sardines, French preserved meats, a cheese in tin, Nautical Almanac for 1869 and 1870, shoes (two or four pairs), ruled paper, pencils, sealing-wax, ink, powder, flannel-serge, 12 frasila beads, 6 of Talaka; added 3 F. pale red, 3 W. white. _3rd July, 1868._--The summary of the sources which I have resolved to report as flowing into the central line of drainage formed by the Chambezé, Luapula, and Lualaba are thirteen in all, and each is larger than the Isis at Oxford, or Avon at Hamilton. Five flow into the eastern line of drainage going through Tanganyika, and five more into the western line of drainage or Lufira, twenty-three or more in all. The Lualaba and the Lufira unite in the Lake of the chief Kinkonza. _5th July, 1868._--I borrowed some paper from Mohamad Bogharib to write home by some Arabs going to the coast. I will announce my discovery to Lord Clarendon; but I reserve the parts of the Lualaba and Tanganyika for future confirmation. I have no doubts on the subject, for I receive the reports of natives of intelligence at first hand, and they have no motive for deceiving me. The best maps are formed from the same sort of reports at third or fourth hand. Cold N.E. winds prevail at present. _6th July, 1868._--Divided our salt that each may buy provisions for himself: it is here of more value than beads. Chikumbi sent fine flour, a load for two stout men carried in a large basket slung to a pole, and a fine fat sheep, carried too because it was too fat to walk the distance from his stockade. _7th, 8th, and 9th July, 1868._--After delaying several days to send our guide, Chikumbi said that he feared the country people would say that the Ingleza brought the Mazitu to them, and so blame will be given to him. I set this down as "words of pombe," beery babble; but after returning from Bangweolo, I saw that he must have been preparing to attack a stockade of Banyamwezi in our path, and had he given us a guide, that man would have been in danger in coming back: he therefore preferred the safety of his man to keeping his promise to me. I got a Banyamwezi guide, and left on the _10th July, 1868_, going over gently rising sandstone hills, covered with forest and seeing many deserted villages, the effects of the Mazitu foray: we saw also the Mazitu sleeping-places and paths. They neglect the common paths of the country as going from one village to another, and take straight courses in the direction they wish to go, treading down the grass so as to make a well-marked route, The Banyamwezi expelled them, cutting off so many of them with their guns and arrows that the marauders retired. The effect of this success on the minds of the Imboshwa, or Imbozhwas, as Chikumbi's people are called, was not gratitude, but envy at the new power sprung up among them of those who came originally as traders in copper. Kombokombo's stockade, the village to which we went this day, was the first object of assault, and when we returned, he told us that Chikumbi had assaulted him on three sides, but was repulsed. The Banyamwezi were, moreover, much too sharp as traders for the Imboshwa, cheating them unmercifully, and lying like Greeks. Kombokombo's stockade was on the Chibérasé River, which flows briskly, eight yards broad and deep, through a mile of sponge. We came in the midst of a general jollification, and were most bountifully supplied with pombe and food. The Banyamwezi acknowledge allegiance to the Sultan of Zanzibar, and all connected with him are respected. Kombokombo pressed food and drink on me, and when I told him that I had nothing to return for it, he said that he expected nothing: he was a child of the Sultan, and ought to furnish all I needed. _11th July, 1868._--On leaving the Chibérasé we passed up over a long line of hills with many villages and gardens, but mostly deserted during the Mazitu raid. The people fled into the forests on the hills, and were an easy prey to the marauders, who seem to have been unmerciful. When we descended into the valley beyond we came to a strong stockade, which had successfully resisted the onset of the Mazitu; we then entered on flat forest, with here and there sponges containing plenty of water; plains succeeded the hills, and continued all the way to Bangweolo. We made a fence in the forest; and next day _(12th July)_ reached the Rofuba, 50 yards broad and 4-1/2 feet deep, full of aquatic plants, and flowing south-west into the Luongo: it had about a mile and a half of sponge on each side of it. We encamped a little south of the river. _13th July, 1868._--On resting at a deserted spot, the men of a village in the vicinity came to us excited and apparently drunk, and began to work themselves up still more by running about, poising their spears at us, taking aim with their bows and arrows, and making as if about to strike with their axes: they thought that we were marauders, and some plants of ground-nuts strewn about gave colour to the idea. There is usually one good soul in such rabbles. In this case a man came to me, and, addressing his fellows, said, "This is only your pombe. White man, do not stand among them, but go away," and then he placed himself between me and a portion of the assailants, about thirty of whom were making their warlike antics. While walking quietly away with my good friend they ran in front and behind bushes and trees, took aim with bow and arrow, but none shot: the younger men ran away with our three goats. When we had gone a quarter of a mile my friend told me to wait and he would bring the goats, which he did: I could not feel the inebriates to be enemies; but in that state they are the worst one can encounter, for they have no fear as they have when sober. One snatched away a fowl from our guide, that too was restored by our friend. I did not load my gun; for any accidental discharge would have inflamed them to rashness. We got away without shedding blood, and were thankful. The Mazitu raid has produced lawlessness in the country: every one was taken as an enemy. _14th July, 1868._--We remained a day at the stockade of Moiéggéa. A Banyamwezi or Garaganza man is settled here in Kabaia's district, and on the strong rivulet called Mato. We felt secure only among the strangers, and they were friendly with us. _15th July, 1868._--At the village on the south bank of the Mpanda we were taken by the headman as Mazitu. He was evidently intoxicated, and began to shut his gates with frantic gesticulations. I offered to go away; but others of his people, equally intoxicated, insisted on my remaining. I sat down a little, but seeing that the chief was still alarmed, I said to his people, "The chief objects and I can't stay:" they saw the reasonableness of this, but I could not get my cowardly attendants to come on, though one said to me, "Come, I shall show you the way: we must speak nice to them." This the wise boys think the perfection of virtue, speaking nice means adopting a childish treble tone of voice and words exactly similar to those of the little Scotch girl who, passing through a meadow, was approached by a cow, probably from curiosity. To appease this enemy, she said, "Oh, coo, coo, if you no hurt me, I no hurt you." I told them to come on and leave them quietly, but they remained babbling with them. The guide said that there was no water in front: this I have been told too often ever to believe, so I went on through the forest, and in an hour and a half came to a sponge where, being joined by my attendants, we passed the night. _16th July, 1868._--Crossing this sponge, and passing through flat forest, we came to another named Méshwé, when there, as a contrast, the young men volunteered to carry me across; but I had got off my shoes, and was in the water, and they came along with me, showing the shallower parts. We finished the day's march by crossing the Molongosi spongy ooze, with 150 paces of deep water, flowing N.E. The water in these oozes or sponges felt very cold, though only 60° in the mornings, and 65° at midday. The Molongosi people invited us into the village; but the forest, unless when infested with leopards and lions, is always preferable, for one is free from vermin, and free from curiosity gazers, who in the village think they have a right to stare, but in the forest feel that they are not on an equality with strangers. [It was on the 18th of July, 1868, we see that Dr. Livingstone discovered one of the largest of the Central African Lakes. It is extraordinary to notice the total absence of all pride and enthusiasm, as--almost parenthetically--he records the fact.] _17th and 18th July, 1868._--Reached the chief village of Mapuni, near the north bank of Bangweolo. On the 18th I walked a little way out and saw the shores of the Lake for the first time, thankful that I had come safely hither. I told the chief that my goods were all expended, and gave him a fathom of calico as all I could spare: I told him that as soon as I had seen and measured the Lake I would return north; he replied, that seeing our goods were done he could say nothing, he would give me guides, and what else he should do was known to himself. He gave a public reception at once. I asked if he had ever seen anyone like me, and he said, "Never." A Babisa traveller asked me why I had come so far; I said I wished to make the country and people better known to the rest of the world, that we were all children of one Father, and I was anxious that we should know each other better, and that friendly visits should be made in safety. I told him what the Queen had done to encourage the growth of cotton on the Zambezi, and how we had been thwarted by slave-traders and their abettors: they were pleased with this. When asked I showed them my note-book, watch, compass, burning-glass, and was loudly drummed home. I showed them the Bible, and told them a little of its contents. I shall require a few days more at Bangweolo than I at first intended. The moon being in its last stage of waning I cannot observe till it is of some size. _19th July, 1868._--Went down to Masantu's village, which is on the shore of the Lake, and by a spring called Chipoka, which comes out of a mass of disintegrated granite. It is seldom that we see a spring welling out beneath a rock: they are covered by oozing sponges, if indeed they exist. Here we had as a spectator a man walking on stilts tied to his ankles and knees. There are a great many Babisa among the people. The women have their hair ornamented with strings of cowries, and well oiled with the oil and fat from the seeds of the Mosikisi trees. I sent the chief a fathom of calico, and got an audience at once. Masantu is an oldish man; had never prayed to the Great Father of all, though he said the footsteps of "Mungu," or Mulungu, could be seen on a part of Lifungé Island: a large footstep may also be seen on the rock at the Chambezé, about fifteen inches long. He informed us that the Lake is much the largest at the part called Bangweolo. The country around the Lake is all flat, and very much denuded of trees, except the Motsikiri or Mosikisi, which has fine dark, dense foliage, and is spared for its shade and the fatty oil yielded by its seeds: we saw the people boiling large pots full of the dark brown fat, which they use to lubricate their hair. The islands, four in number, are all flat, but well peopled. The men have many canoes, and are all expert fishermen; they are called Mboghwa, but are marked on the forehead and chin as Babisa, and file the teeth to points. They have many children, as fishermen usually have. _21st July, 1868._--Canoe-men are usually extortionate, because one cannot do without them. Mapuni claims authority over them, and sent to demand another fathom that he may give orders to them to go with us: I gave a hoe and a string of beads instead, but he insisted on the cloth, and kept the hoe too, as I could not afford the time to haggle. Chipoka spring water at 9 A.M. 75° } Lake water at same time 71° } air 72°. Chipoka spring at 4 P.M. 74° 5' } Lake water at same time 75° } air 71° 5'; wet bulb 70°. No hot fountains or earthquakes are known in this region. The bottom of the Lake consists of fine white sand, and a broad belt of strong rushes, say 100 yards wide, shows shallow water. In the afternoons quite a crowd of canoes anchor at its outer edge to angle; the hooks are like ours, but without barbs. The fish are perch chiefly, but others similar to those that appear in the other Lakes are found, and two which attain the large size of 4 feet by 1-1/2 in. thickness: one is called Sampa. _22nd July, 1868._--A very high wind came with the new moon, and prevented our going, and also the fishermen from following their calling. Mapuni thought that we meant to make, an escape from him to the Babisa on the south, because we were taking our goats, I therefore left them and two attendants at Masantu's village to assure him. _23rd July, 1868._--Wind still too strong to go. Took lunars. _24th July, 1868._--Wind still strong. _25th July, 1868._--Strong S.E. wind still blowing, but having paid the canoe-men amply for four days with beads, and given Masantu a hoe and beads too, we embarked at 11.40 A.M. in a fine canoe, 45 feet long, 4 feet deep, and 4 feet broad. The waves were high, but the canoe was very dry and five stout men propelled her quickly towards an opening in Lifungé Island, on our S.E. Here we stopped to wood, and I went away to look at the island, which had the marks of hippopotami and a species of jackal on it: it had hard wiry grass, some flowers, and a species of Gapparidaceous tree. The trees showed well the direction of the prevailing wind to be south-east, for the branches on that side were stunted or killed, while those on the north-west ran out straight, and made the trees appear, as sailors say, lopsided: the trunks too were bent that way. The canoe-men now said that they would start, then that they would sleep here, because we could not reach the Island Mpabala before dark, and would not get a hut. I said that it would be sleeping out of doors only in either case, so they went. We could see the island called Kisi on our east, apparently a double island, about 15 miles off, and the tops of the trees barely visible on Mpabala on our south-east. It was all sea horizon on our south and north, between Lifungé and Mpabala, and between Lifungé and Kisi. We could not go to Kisi, because, as the canoe-men told us, they had stolen their canoe thence. Though we decided to go, we remained awhile to let the sea go down. A hammerhead's nest on one of the trees was fully four feet high. Coarse rushes show the shoals near the islands. Only one shell was seen on the shores. The canoe ships much less water in this surf than our boat did in that of Nyassa. The water is of a deep sea-green colour, probably from the reflection of the fine white sand of the bottom; we saw no part having the deep dark blue of Nyassa, and conjecture that the depth is not great; but I had to leave our line when Amoda absconded. On Kisi we observed a dark square mass, which at first I took to be a low hill: it turned out to be a mass of trees (probably the place of sepulture, for the graveyards are always untouched), and shows what a dense forest this land would become were it not for the influence of men. We reached Mpabala after dark. It was bitterly cold, from the amount of moisture in the air. I asked a man who came to see what the arrival was, for a hut; he said, "Do strangers require huts, or ask for them at night?" he then led us to the public place of meeting, called Nsaka, which is a large shed, with planks around and open spaces between, instead of walls; here we cooked a little porridge, and ate it, then I lay down on one side, with the canoe-men and my attendants at the fire in the middle, and was soon asleep, and dreamed that I had apartments in Mivart's Hotel. This made me feel much amused next day, for I never dream unless I am ill, or going to be ill; and of all places in the world, I never thought of Mivart's Hotel in my waking moments; a freak of the fancy surely, for I was not at all discontented with my fare, or apartment, I was only afraid of getting a stock of vermin from my associates. _26th July, 1868._--I have to stand the stare of a crowd of people at every new place for hours: all usually talk as quickly as their glib tongues can; these certainly do not belong to the tribes who are supposed to eke out their language by signs! A few indulge their curiosity in sight-seeing, but go on steadily weaving nets, or by beating bark-cloth, or in spinning cotton, others smoke their big tobacco pipes, or nurse a baby, or enjoy the heat of the bright morning sun. I walked across the north end of the island, and found it to be about one mile broad, I also took bearings of Chirubi Island from the eastern point of Mpabala, and found from the south-east point of Chirubi that there are 183° of sea horizon from it to the point of departure of the Luapula. Chirubi is the largest of the islands, and contains a large population, possessing many sheep and goats. At the highest part of Mpabala we could see the tops of the trees on Kasango, a small uninhabited islet, about thirty miles distant: the tops of the trees were evidently lifted up by the mirage, for near the shore and at other parts they were invisible, even with a good glass. This uninhabited islet would have been our second stage had we been allowed to cross the Lake, as it is of the people themselves; it is as far beyond it to the mainland, called Manda, as from Masantu's to Mpabala. _27th July, 1868._--Took lunars and stars for latitude. The canoe-men now got into a flurry, because they were told here that the Kisi men had got an inkling that their canoe was here, and were coming to take it; they said to me that they would come back for me, but I could not trust thieves to be so honest. I thought of seizing their paddles, and appealing to the headmen of the island; but aware from past experience how easy it is for acknowledged thieves like them to get up a tale to secure the cheap sympathy of the soft-headed, or tender-hearted, I resolved to bear with meekness, though groaning inwardly, the loss of two of the four days for which I had paid them. I had only my coverlet to hire another canoe, and it was now very cold; the few beads left would all be required to buy food in the way back, I might have got food by shooting buffaloes, but that on foot and through grass, with stalks as thick as a goose quill, is dreadfully hard work; I had thus to return to Masantu's, and trust to the distances as deduced from the time taken by the natives in their canoes for the size of the Lake. We had come to Mpabala at the rate of six knots an hour, and returned in the same time with six stout paddlers. The latitude was 12' in a south-east course, which may give 24' as the actual distance. To the sleeping-place, the Islet Kasango, there was at least 28' more, and from thence to the mainland "Manda," other 28'. This 24 + 28 + 28 = 80' as the breadth from Masantu village, looking south-east. It lies in 11° 0' S. If we add on the half distance to this we have 11° 40' as the latitude of Manda. The mainland to the south of Mpabala is called Kabendé. The land's end running south of Masantu's village is the entrance to the Luapula: the clearest eye cannot see across it there. I saw clouds as if of grass burning, but they were probably "Kungu," an edible insect, whose masses have exactly the same appearance as they float above and on the water. From the time the canoes take to go to Kabendé I believe the southern shore to be a little into 12° of south latitude: the length, as inferred from canoes taking ten days to go from Mpabala to the Chambezé, I take to be 150 miles, probably more. No one gave a shorter time than that. The Luapula is an arm of the Lake for some twenty miles, and beyond that is never narrower than from 180 to 200 yards, generally much broader, and may be compared with the Thames at London Bridge: I think that I am considerably within the mark in setting down Bangweolo as 150 miles long by 80 broad. When told that it contained four large islands, I imagined that these would considerably diminish the watery acreage of the whole, as is said to be the case with five islands in Ukerewé; but even the largest island, Chirubi, does not in the least dwarf the enormous mass of the water of Bangweolo. A range of mountains, named Lokinga, extends from the south-east to the south-west: some small burns come down from them, but no river; this range joins the Koné, or Mokoné range, west of Katanga, from which on one side rises the Lufira, and on the other the Liambai, or Zambesi. The river of Manda, called Matanga, is only a departing and re-entering branch of the Lake, also the Luma and Loéla rivers--some thirty yards broad--have each to be examined as springs on the south of the Lake. _July 29th, 1868._--Not a single case of Derbyshire neck, or of Elephantiasis, was observed anywhere near the Lake, consequently the report we had of its extreme unhealthiness was erroneous: no muddy banks did we see, but in the way to it we had to cross so many sponges, or oozes, that the word _matopé_, mud, was quite applicable; and I suspect, if we had come earlier, that we should have experienced great difficulty in getting to the Lake at all. _30th July, 1868._--We commenced our march back, being eager to get to Chikumbi's in case Mohamad should go thence to Katanga. We touched at Mapuni's, and then went on to the Molongosi. Clouds now began to cover the sky to the Mpanda, which has fifteen yards of flood, though the stream itself is only five yards wide, then on to the Mato and Moiéggé's stockade, where we heard of Chikumbi's attack on Kombokombo's. Moiéggé had taken the hint, and was finishing a second line of defence around his village: we reached him on the 1st August, 1868, and stopped for Sunday the 2nd: on the 3rd back to the Rofubu, where I was fortunate enough to hire a canoe to take me over. In examining a tsetse fly very carefully I see that it has a receptacle at the root of the piercer, which is of a black or dark-red colour; and when it is squeezed, a clear fluid is pressed out at its point: the other two parts of the proboscis are its shield, and have no bulb at the base. The bulb was pronounced at the Royal Society to be only muscle, but it is curious that muscle should be furnished where none is needed, and withheld in the movable parts of the shield where it is decidedly needed. _5th August, 1868._--Reach Kombokombo, who is very liberal, and pressed us to stay a day with him as well as with others; we complied, and found that Mohamad had gone nowhere. _7th August, 1868._--We found a party starting from Kizinga for the coast, having our letters with them; it will take five months to reach the sea. The disturbed state of the country prevented parties of traders proceeding in various directions, and one that set off on the same day with us was obliged to return. Mohamad has resolved to go to Manyuema as soon as parties of his men now out return: this is all in my favour; it is in the way I want to go to see the Lualaba and Lufira to Chowambé. The way seems opening out before me, and I am thankful. I resolved to go north by way of Casembe, and guides were ready to start, so was I; but rumours of war where we were going induced me to halt to find out the truth: the guides (Banyamwezi) were going to divine, by means of a cock, to see if it would be lucky to go with me at present. The rumours of danger became so circumstantial that our fence was needed: a well was dug inside, and the Banyamwezi were employed to smelt copper as for the market of Manyuema, and balls for war. Syde bin Omar soon came over the Luapula from Iramba, and the state of confusion induced the traders to agree to unite their forces and make a safe retreat out of the country. They objected very strongly to my going away down the right bank of the Luapula with my small party, though it was in sight, so I resolved to remain till all went. _13th August, 1868._--The Banyamwezi use a hammer shaped like a cone, without a handle. They have both kinds of bellows, one of goatskin the other of wood, with a skin over the mouth of a drum, and a handle tied to the middle of it; with these they smelt pieces of the large bars of copper into a pot, filled nearly full of wood ashes. The fire is surrounded by masses of anthills, and in these there are hollows made to receive the melted metal: the metal is poured while the pot is held with the hands, protected by wet rags. _15th August, 1868._--Bin Omar, a Suaheli, came from Muaboso on Chambezé in six days, crossing in that space twenty-two burns or oozes, from knee to waist deep. Very high and cold winds prevail at present. It was proposed to punish Chikumbi when Syde bin Omar came, as he is in debt and refuses payment; but I go off to Casembe. I learn that there is another hot fountain in the Baloba country, called Fungwé; this, with Kapira and Vana, makes three hot fountains in this region. Some people were killed in my path to Casembe, so this was an additional argument against my going that way. Some Banyamwezi report a tribe--the Bonyolo--that extract the upper front teeth, like Batoka; they are near Loanda, and Lake Chipokola is there, probably the same as Kinkonza. Feeling my way. All the trees are now pushing out fresh young leaves of different colours: winds S.E. Clouds of upper stratum N.W. _29th August, 1868._--Kaskas began to-day hot and sultry. This will continue till rains fall. Rumours of wars perpetual and near; and one circumstantial account of an attack made by the Bausé. That again contradicted. _(31st August, 1868.)_ Rain began here this evening, quite remarkable and exceptional, as it precedes the rains generally off the watershed by two months at least: it was a thunder shower, and it and another on the evening of the second were quite partial. * * * * * [As we shall see, he takes advantage of his late experience to work out an elaborate treatise on the climate of this region, which is exceedingly important, bearing, as it does, upon the question of the periodical floods on the rivers which drain the enormous cistern-lakes of Central Africa.] * * * * * The notion of a rainy zone, in which the clouds deposit their treasures in perpetual showers, has received no confirmation from my observations. In 1866-7, the rainfall was 42 inches. In 1867-8, it amounted to 53 inches: this is nearly the same as falls in the same latitudes on the West Coast. In both years the rains ceased entirely in May, and with the exception of two partial thunder showers on the middle of the watershed, no rain fell till the middle and end of October, and then, even in November, it was partial, and limited to small patches of country; but scarcely a day passed between October and May without a good deal of thunder. When the thunder began to roll or rumble, that was taken by the natives as an indication of the near cessation of the rains. The middle of the watershed is the most humid part: one sees the great humidity of its climate at once in the trees, old and young, being thickly covered with lichens; some flat, on the trunks and branches; others long and thready, like the beards of old men waving in the wind. Large orchids on the trees in company with the profusion of lichens are seen nowhere else, except in the mangrove swamps of the sea-coast. I cannot account for the great humidity of the watershed as compared with the rest of the country, but by the prevailing winds and the rains being from the south-east, and thus from the Indian Ocean: with this wind generally on the surface one can observe an upper strong wind from the north-west, that is, from the low humid West Coast and Atlantic Ocean. The double strata of winds can easily be observed when there are two sheets of clouds, or when burning grass over scores of square miles sends up smoke sufficiently high to be caught by the upper or north-west wind. These winds probably meet during the heavy rains: now in August they overlap each other. The probability arises from all continued rains within the tropics coming in the opposite direction from the prevailing wind of the year. Partial rains are usually from the south-east. The direction of the prevailing wind of this region is well marked on the islands in Lake Bangweolo: the trunks are bent away from the south-east, and the branches on that side are stunted or killed; while those on the north-west run out straight and make the trees appear lopsided. The same bend away from the south-east is seen on all exposed situations, as in the trees covering the brow of a hill. At Kizinga, which is higher than the Lake, the trees are covered with lichens, chiefly on the south-east sides, and on the upper surfaces of branches, running away horizontally to or from the north-west. Plants and trees, which elsewhere in Africa grow only on the banks of streams and other damp localities, are seen flourishing all over the country: the very rocks are covered with lichens, and their crevices with ferns. But that which demonstrates the humidity of the climate most strikingly is the number of earthen sponges or oozes met with. In going to Bangweolo from Kizinga, I crossed twenty-nine of these reservoirs in thirty miles of latitude, on a south-east course: this may give about one sponge for every two miles. The word "Bog" conveys much of the idea of these earthen sponges; but it is inseparably connected in our minds with peat, and these contain not a particle of peat, they consist of black porous earth, covered with a hard wiry grass, and a few other damp-loving plants. In many places the sponges hold large quantities of the oxide of iron, from the big patches of brown haematite that crop out everywhere, and streams of this oxide, as thick as treacle, are seen moving slowly along in the sponge-like small red glaciers. When one treads on the black earth of the sponge, though little or no water appears on the surface, it is frequently squirted up the limbs, and gives the idea of a sponge. In the paths that cross them, the earth readily becomes soft mud, but sinks rapidly to the bottom again, as if of great specific gravity: the water in them is always circulating and oozing. The places where the sponges are met with are slightly depressed valleys without trees or bushes, in a forest country where the grass being only a foot or fifteen inches high, and thickly planted, often looks like a beautiful glade in a gentleman's park in England. They are from a quarter of a mile to a mile broad, and from two to ten or more miles long. The water of the heavy rains soaks into the level forest lands: one never sees runnels leading it off, unless occasionally a footpath is turned to that use. The water, descending about eight feet, comes to a stratum of yellow sand, beneath which there is another stratum of fine white sand, which at its bottom cakes, so as to hold the water from sinking further. It is exactly the same as we found in the Kalahari Desert, in digging sucking places for water for our oxen. The water, both here and there, is guided by the fine sand stratum into the nearest valley, and here it oozes forth on all sides through the thick mantle of black porous earth, which forms the sponge. There, in the desert, it appears to damp the surface sands in certain valleys, and the Bushmen, by a peculiar process, suck out a supply. When we had dug down to the caked sand there years ago, the people begged us not to dig further, as the water would all run away; and we desisted, because we saw that the fluid poured in from the fine sand all round the well, but none came from the bottom or cake. Two stupid Englishmen afterwards broke through the cake in spite of the entreaties of the natives, and the well and the whole valley dried up hopelessly. Here the water, oozing forth from the surface of the sponge mantle, collects in the centre of the slightly depressed valley which it occupies, and near the head of the depression forms a sluggish stream; but further down, as it meets with more slope, it works out for itself a deeper channel, with perpendicular banks, with, say, a hundred or more yards of sponge on each side, constantly oozing forth fresh supplies to augment its size. When it reaches rocky ground it is a perennial burn, with many aquatic plants growing in its bottom. One peculiarity would strike anyone: the water never becomes discoloured or muddy. I have seen only one stream muddied in flood, the Choma, flowing through an alluvial plain in Lopéré. Another peculiarity is very remarkable; it is, that after the rains have entirely ceased, these burns have their largest flow, and cause inundations. It looks as if towards the end of the rainy season the sponges were lifted up by the water off their beds, and the pores and holes, being enlarged, are all employed to give off fluid. The waters of inundation run away. When the sponges are lifted up by superabundance of water, all the pores therein are opened: as the earthen mantle subsides again, the pores act like natural valves, and are partially closed, and by the weight of earth above them, the water is thus prevented from running away altogether; time also being required to wet all the sand through which the rains soak, the great supply may only find its way to the sponge a month or so after the great rains have fallen. I travelled in Lunda, when the sponges were all supersaturated. The grassy sward was so lifted up that it was separated into patches or tufts, and if the foot missed the row of tufts of this wiry grass which formed the native path, down one plumped up to the thigh in slush. At that time we could cross the sponge only by the native paths, and the central burn only where they had placed bridges: elsewhere they were impassable, as they poured off the waters of inundation: our oxen were generally bogged--all four legs went down up to the body at once. When they saw the clear sandy bottom of the central burn they readily went in, but usually plunged right over head, leaving their tail up in the air to show the nervous shock they had sustained. These sponges are a serious matter in travelling. I crossed the twenty-nine already mentioned at the end of the fourth month of the dry season, and the central burns seemed then to have suffered no diminution: they were then from calf to waist deep, and required from fifteen to forty minutes in crossing; they had many deep holes in the paths, and when one plumps therein every muscle in the frame receives a painful jerk. When past the stream, and apparently on partially dry ground, one may jog in a foot or more, and receive a squirt of black mud up the thighs: it is only when you reach the trees and are off the sour land that you feel secure from mud and leeches. As one has to strip the lower part of the person in order to ford them, I found that often four were as many as we could cross in a day. Looking up these sponges a bird's-eye view would closely resemble the lichen-like vegetation of frost on window panes; or that vegetation in Canada-balsam which mad philosophical instrument makers _will_ put between the lenses of the object-glasses of our telescopes. The flat, or nearly flat, tops of the subtending and transverse ridges of this central country give rise to a great many: I crossed twenty-nine, a few of the feeders of Bangweolo, in thirty miles of latitude in one direction. Burns are literally innumerable: rising on the ridges, or as I formerly termed them mounds, they are undoubtedly the primary or ultimate sources of the Zambezi, Congo, and Nile: by their union are formed streams of from thirty to eighty or 100 yards broad, and always deep enough to require either canoes or bridges. These I propose to call the secondary sources, and as in the case of the Nile they are drawn off by three lines of drainage, they become the head waters (the _caput_ Nili) of the river of Egypt. Thanks to that all-embracing Providence, which has watched over and enabled me to discover what I have done. There is still much to do, and if health and protection be granted I shall make a complete thing of it. [Then he adds in a note a little further on:--] But few of the sponges on the watershed ever dry; elsewhere many do; the cracks in their surface are from 15 to 18 inches deep, with lips from 2 to 3 inches apart. Crabs and other animals in clearing out their runs reveal what I verified by actually digging wells at Kizinga and in Kabuiré, and also observed in the ditches 15 feet deep dug by the natives round many of their stockades, that the sponge rests on a stratum of fine white washed sand. These cracks afford a good idea of the effect of the rains: the partial thunder-showers of October, November, December, and even January, produce no effect on them; it is only when the sun begins to return from his greatest southern declination that the cracks close their large lips. The whole sponge is borne up, and covers an enormous mass of water, oozing forth in March and April forming the inundations. These floods in the Congo, Zambesi, and Nile require different times to reach the sea. The bulk of the Zambesi is further augmented by the greater rains finding many pools in the beds of its feeders filled in February, as soon as the sun comes north. _Mem._--In apparent contradiction of the foregoing, so far as touches the sources of the Zambesi, Syde bin Habib informed me a few days ago that he visited the sources of the Liambai and of the Lufira. Each comes out of a fountain; the Lufira one is called Changozi, and is small, and in a wood of large trees S.W. of Katanga; the fountain of the Liambai is so large that one cannot call to a person on the other side, and he appears also very small there--the two fountains are just five hours distant from each other. He is well acquainted with the Liambai (Leeambye), where I first met him. Lunga, another river, comes out of nearly the same spot which goes into the Leuñge, Kafué (?). Lufira is less than Kalongosi up there; that is less than 80 or 200 yards, and it has deep waterfalls in it. The Koné range comes down north, nearly to Mpméto's. Mkana is the chief of the stone houses in the Baloba, and he may be reached by three days of hard travelling from Mpwéto's; Lufira is then one long day west. As Muabo refuses to show me his "mita," "miengelo," or "mpamankanana" as they are called, I must try and get to those of the Baloba of Mkana. Senegal swallows pair in the beginning of December. _Note_.--Inundation. The inundation I have explained in the note on the climate as owing to the sponges being supersaturated in the greater rains, when the sun returns from his greatest southern declination, the pores are then all enlarged, and the water of inundation flows in great volume even after the rains have entirely ceased. Something has probably to be learned from the rainfall at or beyond the equator, as the sun pursues his way north beyond my beat, but the process I have named accounts undoubtedly for the inundations of the Congo and Zambesi. The most acute of the ancients ascribed the inundation with Strabo to summer rains in the south; others to snows melting on the Mountains of the Moon; others to the northern wind--the Etesian breezes blowing directly against the mouth of the river and its current: others, with less reason, ascribed the inundation to its having its source in the ocean: Herodotus and Pliny to evaporation following the course of the sun. _1st September, 1868._--Two men come from Casembe--I am reported killed. The miningo-tree distils water, which falls in large drops. The Luapula seen when the smoke clears off. Fifty of Syde bin Omar's people died of small-pox in Usafa. _Mem._ Vaccine virus. We leave on the 25th, east bank of Moisi River, and cross the Luongo on the 28th, the Lofubu on the 1st October, and the Kalongosi on the 7th. [Dr. Livingstone seems to have been unable to find opportunity to make daily entries at this period. All was turmoil and panic, and his life appears to have been in imminent danger. Briefly we see that on his way back from the Lake he found that his Arab associates of the last few months had taken up Casembe's cause against the devastating hordes of Mazitu, who had swept down on these parts, and had repulsed them. But now a fresh complication arose! Casembe and Chikumbi became alarmed lest the Arabs, feeling their own power, should turn upon them and possess the whole country, so they joined forces and stormed Kombokombo, one of the leading Arabs, and with what success we shall see. It is a fair specimen of the unaccountable complications which dog the steps of the traveller, where war is afoot, and render life a misery. He writes as follows on the 5th October:--] I was detained in the Imbozhwa country much longer than I relished. The inroad of the Mazitu, of which Casembe had just heard when we reached the Mofwé, was the first cause of delay: he had at once sent off men to verify the report, and requested me to remain till his messengers should return. This foray produced a state of lawlessness in the country, which was the main reason of our further detention. The Imbozhwa fled before the marauders, and the Banyamwezi or Garaganza, who had come in numbers to trade in copper, took on themselves the duty of expelling the invaders, and this, by means of their muskets, they did effectually, then, building stockades they excited the jealousy of the Imbozhwa lords of the soil who, instead of feeling grateful, hated the new power thus sprung up among them! They had suffered severely from the sharp dealing of the strangers already, and Chikumbi made a determined assault on the stockade of Kombokombo in vain. Confusion prevailed all over the country. Some Banyamwezi assumed the offensive against the Baüsi, who resemble the Imbozhwa, but are further south, and captured and sold some prisoners: it was in this state of things that, as already mentioned, I was surrounded by a party of furious Imbozhwa. A crowd stood within fifteen or twenty yards with spears poised and arrows set in the bowstrings, and some took aim at me: they took us for plunderers, and some plants of ground-nuts thrown about gave colour to their idea. One good soul helped us away--a blessing be on him and his. Another chief man took us for Mazitu! In this state of confusion Cazembe heard that my party had been cut off: he called in Moenempanda and took the field in person, in order to punish the Banyamwezi, against whom he has an old grudge for killing a near relative of his family, selling Baüsi, and setting themselves up as a power in his country. The two Arab traders now in the country felt that they must unite their forces, and thereby effect a safe retreat. Chikumbi had kept twenty-eight tusks for Syde bin Omar safely; but the coming of Casembe might have put it out of his power to deliver up his trust in safety, for an army here is often quite lawless: each man takes to himself what he can. When united we marched from Kizinga on 23rd September together, built fences every night to protect ourselves and about 400 Banyamwezi, who took the opportunity to get safely away. Kombokombo came away from his stockade, and also part of the way, but cut away by night across country to join the parties of his countrymen who still love to trade in Katanga copper. We were not molested, but came nearly north to the Kalongosi. Syde parted from us, and went away east to Mozamba, and thence to the coast. FOOTNOTES: [64] The allusion is to Mrs. Livingstone's grave. [65] At one season the long grass which covers the face of the country catches fire. For some three months the air is consequently filled with smoke.--ED. CHAPTER XIII. Cataracts of the Kalongosi. Passage of the river disputed. Leeches and method of detaching them. Syde bin Habib's slaves escape. Enormous collection of tusks. III. Theory of the Nile sources. Tribute to Miss Tinné. Notes on climate. Separation of Lake Nyassa from the Nile system. Observations on Victoria Nyanza. Slaves dying. Repentant deserters. Mohamad Bogharib. Enraged Imbozhwa. An attack. Narrow escape. Renewed attack. A parley. Help arrives. Bin Juma. March from the Imbozhwa country. Slaves escape. Burial of Syde bin Habib's brother. Singular custom. An elephant killed. Native game-laws. Rumour of Baker's Expedition. Christmas dinners. _11th October, 1868._--From Kizinga north the country is all covered with forest, and thrown up into ridges of hardened sandstone, capped occasionally with fine-grained clay schist. Trees often appear of large size and of a species closely resembling the gum-copal tree; on the heights masukos and rhododendrons are found, and when exposed they are bent away from the south-east. Animals, as buffaloes and elephants, are plentiful, but wild. Rivulets numerous, and running now as briskly as brooks do after much rain in England. All on the south-western side of Kalongosi are subjects of Casembe, that is Balunda, or Imbozhwa. It was gratifying to see the Banyamwezi carrying their sick in cots slung between two men: in the course of time they tired of this, and one man, who was carried several days, remained with Chuma. We crossed the Luongo far above where we first became acquainted with it, and near its source in Urungu or Usungu Hills, then the Lobubu, a goodly stream thirty yards broad and rapid with fine falls above our ford, which goes into Kalongosi. _6th October, 1868._--Cross the Papusi, and a mile beyond the Luéna of forty yards and knee deep; here we were met by about 400 of Kabanda's men, as if they were come to dispute our passage at the ford: I went over; all were civil; but had we shown any weakness they would no doubt have taken advantage of it. _7th October, 1868._--We came to the Kalongosi, flowing over five cataracts made by five islets in a place called Kabwérumé. Near the Mebamba a goodly rivulet joins it. _12th October, 1868._--We came to the Kalongosi at the ford named Mosolo: by pacing I found it to be 240 yards broad, and thigh deep at the end of the dry season, it ran so strongly that it was with difficulty I could keep my feet. Here 500 at least of Nsama's people stood on the opposite shore to know what we wanted. Two fathoms of calico were sent over, and then I and thirty guns went over to protect the people in the ford: as we approached they retired. I went to them, and told them that I had been to Nsama's, and he gave me a goat and food, and we were good friends: some had seen me there, and they now crowded to look till the Arabs thought it unsafe for me to be among them: if I had come with bared skin they would have fled. All became friendly: an elephant was killed, and we remained two days buying food. We passed down between the ranges of hills on the east of Moero, the path we followed when we first visited Casembe. _20th and 21st October, 1868._--From the Luao I went over to the chief village of Muabo, and begged him to show me the excavations in his country: he declined, by saying that I came from a crowd of people, and must go to Kabwabwata, and wait awhile there, meanwhile he would think what he should do, whether to refuse or invite me to come. He evidently does not wish me to see his strongholds. All his people could go into them, though over ten thousand: they are all abundantly supplied with water, and they form the storehouses for grain. _22nd October, 1868._--We came to Kabwabwata, and I hope I may find a way to other underground houses. It is probable that they are not the workmanship of the ancestors of the present occupants, for they ascribe their formation invariably to the Deity, Mulungu or Réza: if their forefathers had made them, some tradition would have existed of them. _23rd October, 1868._--Syde bin Habib came over from Mpwéto's; he reports Lualaba and Lufira flowing into the Lake of Kinkonza. Lungabalé is paramount chief of Rua. Mparahala horns measured three feet long and three inches in diameter at the base: this is the yellow kualata of Makololo, bastard gemsbuck of the Dutch. _27th, 29th, and 30th October, 1868._--Salem bin Habib was killed by the people in Rua: he had put up a tent and they attacked it in the night, and stabbed him through it. Syde bin Habib waged a war of vengeance all through Rua after this for the murder of his brother: Sef's raid may have led the people to the murder. _29th October, 1868._--In coming north in September and October, the last months of the dry season, I crossed many burns flowing quite in the manner of our brooks at home, after a great deal of rain; here, however, the water was clear, and the banks not abraded in the least. Some rivulets had a tinge of white in them, as if of felspar in disintegrating granite; some nearly stagnant burns had as if milk and water in them, and some red oxide of iron. Where leeches occur they need no coaxing to bite, but fly at the white skin like furies, and refuse to let go: with the fingers benumbed, though the water is only 60°, one may twist them round the finger and tug, but they slip through. I saw the natives detaching them with a smart slap of the palm, and found it quite effectual. Swifts, Senegal swallows, and common dark-bellied swallows appeared at Kizinga in the beginning of October: other birds, as drongo shrikes, a bird with a reddish bill, but otherwise like a grey linnet, keep in flocks yet. _(5th December.)_ They pair now. The kite came sooner than the swallows; I saw the first at Bangweolo on the 20th July, 1868. _1st November, 1868._--At Kabwabwata; we are waiting till Syde comes up that we may help him. He has an enormous number of tusks and bars of copper, sufficient it seems for all his people to take forward, going and returning three times over. He has large canoes on the Lake, and will help us in return. _2nd November, 1868._--News came yesterday from Mpwéto's that twenty-one slaves had run away from Syde bin Habib at one time: they were Rua people, and out of the chains, as they were considered safe when fairly over the Lualaba, but they showed their love of liberty on the first opportunity. Mpwéto is suspected to have harboured them, or helped them over the river; this will probably lead to Syde attacking him, as he has done to so many chiefs in Rua. In this case Mpwéto will have no sympathy; he is so wanting in the spirit of friendliness to others. _3rd November, 1868._--Sent off men to hasten Syde onwards. We start in two or three days. The oldest map known to be in existence is the map of the Ethiopian Goldmines, dating from the time of Sethos I., the father of Rameses II., long enough before the time of the bronze tablet of Aristagoras, on which was inscribed the circuit of the whole earth, and all the sea and all rivers. (Tylor, p. 90, quoted from Birch's _Archaeologia_, vol. xxxiv. p. 382.) Sesostris was the first to distribute his maps. _8th November, 1868._--Syde bin Habib is said to have amassed 150 frasilahs of ivory = 5250 lbs., and 300 frasilahs of copper = 10,500 lbs. With one hundred carriers he requires to make four relays, or otherwise make the journey four times over at every stage. Twenty-one of his slaves ran away in one night, and only four were caught again: they were not all bought, nor was the copper and ivory come at by fair means; the murder of his brother was a good excuse for plunder, murder, and capture. Mpwéto is suspected of harbouring them as living on the banks of the Lualaba, for they could not get over without assistance from his canoes and people. Mpwéto said, "Remove from me, and we shall see if they come this way." They are not willing to deliver fugitives up. Syde sen£ for Elmas, the only thing of the Mullam or clerical order here, probably to ask if the Koran authorizes him to attack Mpwéto. Mullam will reply, "Yes, certainly. If Mpwéto won't restore your slaves, take what you can by force." Syde's bloodshed is now pretty large, and he is becoming afraid for his own life; if he ceases not, he will himself be caught some day. Ill of fever two days. Better and thankful. [Whilst waiting to start for Ujiji, Livingstone was intently occupied on the great problem of the Nile and the important part he had taken so recently in solving it: he writes at this date as follows:--] The discovery of the sources of the Nile is somewhat akin in importance to the discovery of the North-West Passage, which called forth, though in a minor degree, the energy, the perseverance, and the pluck of Englishmen, and anything that does that is beneficial to the nation and to its posterity. The discovery of the sources of the Nile possesses, moreover, an element of interest which the North-West Passage never had. The great men of antiquity have recorded their ardent desires to know the fountains of what Homer called "_Egypt's heaven-descended spring._" Sesostris, the first who in camp with his army made and distributed maps, not to Egyptians only, but to the Scythians, naturally wished to know the springs, says Eustathius, of the river on whose banks he flourished. Alexander the Great, who founded a celebrated city at this river's-mouth, looked up the stream with the same desire, and so did the Caesars. The great Julius Caesar is made by Lucan to say that he would give up the civil war if he might but see the fountains of this far-famed river. Nero Caesar sent two centurions to examine the "_Caput Nili_." They reported that they saw the river rushing with great force from two rocks, and beyond that it was lost in immense marshes. This was probably "native information," concerning the cataracts of the Nile and a long space above them, which had already been enlarged by others into two hills with sharp conical tops called Crophi and Mophi--midway between which lay the fountains of the Nile--fountains which it was impossible to fathom, and which gave forth half their water to Ethiopia in the south, and the other half to Egypt in the north: that which these men failed to find, and that which many great minds in ancient times longed to know, has in this late age been brought to light by the patient toil and laborious perseverance of Englishmen.[66] In laying a contribution to this discovery at the feet of his countrymen, the writer desires to give all the honour to his predecessors which they deserve. The work of Speke and Grant is deserving of the highest commendation, inasmuch as they opened up an immense tract of previously unexplored country, in the firm belief they were bringing to light the head of the Nile. No one can appreciate the difficulties of their feat unless he has gone into new country. In association with Captain Burton, Speke came much nearer to the "coy fountains," than at the Victoria Nyanza, but they all turned their backs on them. Mr. Baker showed courage and perseverance worthy of an Englishman in following out the hints given by Speke and Grant. But none rises higher in my estimation than the Dutch lady Miss Tinné, who, after the severest domestic afflictions, nobly persevered in the teeth of every difficulty, and only turned away from the object of her expedition, after being assured by Speke and Grant that they had already discovered in Victoria Nyanza the sources she sought. Had they not given their own mistaken views, the wise foresight by which she provided a steamer, would inevitably have led her to pull up, and by canoes to reach Lake Bangweolo's sources full five hundred miles south of the most southerly part of Victoria Nyanza. She evidently possesses some of the indomitable pluck of Van Tromp, whose tomb every Englishman who goes to Holland must see.[67] Her doctor was made a baron--were she not a Dutch lady already we think she ought to be made a duchess. By way of contrast with what, if I live through it, I shall have to give, I may note some of the most prominent ideas entertained of this world-renowned river. Ptolemy, a geographer who lived in the second century, and was not a king of Egypt, with the most ancient maps made the Nile rise from the "Montes Lunae," between ten and twelve south lat., by six several streams which flowed north into two Lakes, situated east and west of each other. These streams flowed about west of his river Rhapta, or Raptus, which is probably our Rovuma or Louma. This was very near the truth, but the Mountains of the Moon cannot be identified with the Lokinga, or mountains of Bisa, from which many of the springs do actually arise. Unless, indeed, we are nearer to the great alterations in climate which have taken place, as we are supposed to be nearer the epoch of the mammoth, aurochs, and others. Snow never lay in these latitudes, on altitudes of 6000 feet above the sea. Some of the ancients supposed the river to have its source in the ocean. This was like the answer we received long ago from the natives on the Liambai or Upper Zambesi when inquiring for its source. "It rises in Leoatlé, the white man's sea, or Métséhula." The second name means the "_grazing water_," from the idea of the tides coming in to graze; as to the freshness of the Liambai waters, they could offer no explanation. Some again thought that the Nile rose in Western Africa, and after flowing eastwards across the Continent, turned northwards to Egypt; others still thought that it rose in India! and others again, from vague reports collected from their slaves, made it and several other rivers rise but of a great inland sea. _Achélunda_ was said to be the name of this Lake, and in the language of Angola, it meant the "sea." It means only "_of_" or "_belonging to Lunda_," a country. It might have been a sea that was spoken of on a whole, or anything. "_Nyassi, or the sea_," was another name and another blunder. "Nyassi" means long grass, and nothing else. Nyanza contracted into Nyassa, means lake, marsh, any piece of water, or even the dry bed of a lake. The _N_ and _y_ are joined in the mouth, and never pronounced separately. The "Naianza"!--it would be nearer the mark to say the Nancy! Of all theoretical discoverers, the man who ran in 200 miles of Lake and placed them on a height of some 4000 feet at the north-west end of Lake Nyassa, deserves the highest place. Dr. Beke, in his guess, came nearer the sources than most others, but after all he pointed out where they would not be found. Old Nile played the theorists a pretty prank by having his springs 500 miles south of them all! I call mine a contribution, because it is just a hundred years (1769) since Bruce, a greater traveller than any of us, visited Abyssinia, and having discovered the sources of the Blue Nile, he thought that he had then solved the ancient problem. Am I to be cut out by some one discovering southern fountains of the river of Egypt, of which I have now no conception? David Livingstone. [The tiresome procrastination of Mohamad and his horde was not altogether an unmixed evil. With so many new discoveries in hand Livingstone had an opportunity for working out several problems, and instituting comparisons between the phenomena of Inner Africa and the well-marked changes which go on in other parts of the world. We find him at this time summing them up as follows:--] The subject of change of climate from alteration of level has not received the investigation it deserves. Mr. Darwin saw reason to believe that very great alterations of altitude, and of course of climate, had taken place in South America and the islands of the Pacific; the level of a country above the sea I believe he thought to be as variable as the winds. A very great alteration of altitude has also taken place in Africa; this is apparent on the sea-coast of Angola, and all through the centre of the country, where large rivers which once flowed southwards and westwards are no longer able to run in these directions: the general desiccation of the country, as seen in the beds of large rivers and of enormous lakes, tells the same tale. Portions of the east coast have sunk, others have risen, even in the Historic Period. The upper or northern end of the Red Sea has risen, so that the place of the passage of the children of Israel is now between forty and fifty miles from Suez, the modern head of the Gulf. This upheaval, and not the sand from the desert, caused the disuse of the ancient canal across the Isthmus: it took place since the Mohamadan conquest of Egypt. The women of the Jewish captivities were carried past the end of the Red Sea and along the Mediterranean in ox-waggons, where such cattle would now all perish for want of water and pasture; in fact, the route to Assyria would have proved more fatal to captives then than the middle passage has been to Africans since. It may be true that, _as the desert is now_, it could not have been traversed by the multitude under Moses--the German strictures put forth by Dr. Colenso, under the plea of the progress of science, assume that no alteration has taken place in either desert or climate--but a scientific examination of the subject would have ascertained what the country was then when it afforded pasture to "flocks and herds, and even very much cattle." We know that Eziongeber was, with its docks, on the seashore, with water in abundance for the ship-carpenters: it is now far from the head of the Elaic Gulf in a parched desert. Aden, when visited by the Portuguese Balthazar less than 300 years ago, was a perfect garden; but it is now a vast conglomeration of black volcanic rocks, with so little vegetation, that, on seeing flocks of goats driven out, I thought of the Irish cabman at an ascent slamming the door of his cab and whispering to his fare, "Whish, it's to desave the baste: he thinks that you are out walking." Gigantic tanks in great numbers and the ruins of aqueducts appear as relics of the past, where no rain now falls for three or more years at a time. They have all dried up by a change of climate, possibly similar and cotemporaneous with that which has dried up the Dead Sea. The journey of Ezra was undertaken after a fast at the River Ahava. With nearly 50,000 people he had only about 8000 beasts of burden. He was ashamed to ask a band of soldiers and horsemen for protection in the way. It took about four months to reach Jerusalem; this would give five and a half or six miles a day, as the crow flies, which is equal to twelve or fifteen miles of surface travelled over; this bespeaks a country capable of yielding both provisions and water, such as cannot now be found. Ezra would not have been ashamed to ask for camels to carry provisions and water had the country been as dry as it is now. The prophets, in telling all the woes and miseries of the captivities, never allude to suffering or perishing by thirst in the way, or being left to rot in the route as African slaves are now in a well-watered country. Had the route to Assyria been then as it is now, they could scarcely have avoided referring to the thirst of the way; but everything else is mentioned except that. Respecting this system of Lakes in the centre of Africa, it will possibly occur to some that Lake Nyassa may give a portion of its water off from its northern end to the Nile, but this would imply a Lake giving off a river at both ends; the country, too, on the north-north-west and north-east rises to from 4000 to 6000 feet above the sea, and there is not the smallest indication that Nyassa and Tanganyika were ever connected. Lake Liemba is the most southerly part of Tanganyika; its latitude is 8° 46' south; the most northerly point of Lake Nyassa is probably 10° 56'-8° 46' = 2° 10'. Longitude of Liemba 34° 57'-31° 57' = 3° 00' = 180' of longitude. Of latitude 130' + 180' = 310', two-thirds of which is about 206', the distance between two Lakes; and no evidence of fissure, rent, or channel now appears on the highland between. Again, Liemba is 3000 feet above the sea. The altitude of Nyassa is 1200/x800 feet. Tanganyika would thus go to Nyassa--down the Shiré into the Zambesi and the sea, if a passage existed even below ground. The large Lake, said to exist to the north-west of Tanganyika might, however, send a branch to the Nile; but the land rises up into a high ridge east of this Lake. It is somewhat remarkable that the impression which intelligent Suaheli, who have gone into Karagwé, have received is, that the Kitangulé flows from Tanganyika into Lake Ukerewé. One of Syde bin Omar's people put it to me very forcibly the other day by saying, "Kitangulé is an arm of Tanganyika!" He had not followed it out; but that Dagara, the father of Rumanyika, should have in his lifetime seriously proposed to deepen the upper part of it, so as to allow canoes to pass from his place to Ujiji, is very strong evidence of the river being large on the Tanganyika side. We know it to be of good size, and requiring canoes on the Ukerewé side. Burton came to the very silly conclusion that when a native said a river ran one way, he meant that it flowed in the opposite direction. Ujiji, in Rumanyika's time, was the only mart for merchandise in the country. Garaganza or Galaganza has most trade and influence now. (_14th Sept., 1868._) Okara is the name by which Victoria Nyanza is known on the eastern side, and an arm of it, called Kavirondo, is about forty miles broad. Lake Baringo is a distinct body of water, some fifty miles broad, and giving off a river called Ngardabash, which flows eastwards into the Somauli country. Lake Naibash is more to the east than Kavirondo, and about fifty miles broad too: it gives off the River Kidété, which is supposed to flow into Lufu. It is south-east of Kavirondo; and Kilimanjaro can be seen from its shores; in the south-east Okara, Naibash and Baringo seem to have been run by Speke into one Lake. Okara, in the south, is full of large islands, and has but little water between them; that little is encumbered with aquatic vegetation called "Tikatika," on which, as in lakelet Gumadona, a man can walk. Waterlilies and duckweed are not the chief part of this floating mass. In the north Okara is large. Burukineggé land is the boundary between the people of Kavirondo and the Gallahs with camels and horses. _9th November, 1868._--Copied several Notes written at Kizinga and elsewhere, and at Kabwabwata resume Journal. Some slight showers have cooled the air a little: this is the hottest time of the year. _10th November, 1868._--A heavier shower this morning will have more of the same effect. _11th November, 1868._--Muabo visited this village, but refuses to show his underground houses. _13th November, 1868._--I was on the point of starting without Mohamad Bogharib, but he begged me not to go till he had settled some weighty matter about a wife he is to get at Ujiji from Mpamari; we must have the new moon, which will appear in three days, for lucky starting, and will leave Syde bin Habib at Chisabi's. Meanwhile two women slaves ran away, and Syde has got only five back of his twenty-one fugitives. Mullam was mild with his decisions, and returned here; he informed me that many of Syde's slaves, about forty, fled. Of those who cannot escape many die, evidently broken-hearted; they are captives, and not, as slaves often are, criminals sold for their guilt, hence the great mortality caused by being taken to the sea to be, as they believe, fatted and eaten. Poor things! Heaven help them! Ujiji is the pronunciation of the Banyamwezi; and they call the people Wayeiyé, exactly as the same people styled themselves on the River Zougha, near Ngami. [It will be remembered that several of his men refused to go to Lake Bangweolo with him: they seem now to have thought better of it, and on his return are anxious to come back to their old master who, for his part, is evidently willing to overlook a good deal.] I have taken all the runaways back again; after trying the independent life they will behave better. Much of their ill conduct may be ascribed to seeing that after the flight of the Johanna men I was entirely dependent on them: more enlightened people often take advantage of men in similar circumstances; though I have seen pure Africans come out generously to aid one abandoned to their care. I have faults myself. _15th November, 1868._--The Arabs have some tradition of the Emir Musa coming as far south as the Jagga country. Some say he lived N.E. of Sunna, now Mtéza; but it is so mixed up with fable and tales of the Genii (Mageni), that it cannot refer to the great Moses, concerning whose residence at Meröe and marriage of the king of Ethiopia's daughter there is also some vague tradition further north: the only thing of interest to me is the city of Meröe, which is lost, and may, if built by ancient Egyptians, still be found. The Africans all beckon with the hand, to call a person, in a different way from what Europeans do. The hand is held, as surgeons say, _prone_, or palm down, while we beckon with the hand held _supine_, or palm up: it is quite natural in them, for the idea in their mind is to lay the hand on the person and draw him towards them. If the person wished for is near, say forty yards off, the beckoner puts out his right hand on a level with his breast, and makes the motion of catching the other by shutting the fingers and drawing him to himself: if the person is further off, this motion is exaggerated by lifting up the right hand as high as he can; he brings it down with a sweep towards the ground, the hand being still held prone as before. In nodding assent they differ from us by lifting up the chin instead of bringing it down as we do. This lifting up the chin looks natural after a short usage therewith, and is perhaps purely conventional, not natural, as the other seems to be. _16th November, 1868._--I am tired out by waiting after finishing the Journal, and will go off to-morrow north. Simon killed a zebra after I had taken the above resolution, and this supply of meat makes delay bearable, for besides flesh, of which I had none, we can buy all kinds of grain and pulse for the next few days. The women of the adjacent villages crowd into this as soon as they hear of an animal killed, and sell all the produce of their plantations for meat. _17th November, 1868._--It is said that on the road to the Great Salt Lake in America the bones and skulls of animals lie scattered everywhere, yet travellers are often put to great straits for fuel: this, if true, is remarkable among a people so apt in turning everything to account as the Americans. When we first steamed up the River Shiré our fuel ran out in the elephant marsh, where no trees exist, and none could be reached without passing through many miles on either side of impassable swamp, covered with reeds, and intersected everywhere with deep branches of the river. Coming to a spot where an elephant had been slaughtered, I at once took the bones on board, and these, with the bones of a second elephant, enabled us to steam briskly up to where wood abounded. The Scythians, according to Herodotus, used the bones[68] of the animal sacrificed to boil the flesh, the Guachos of South America do the same when they have no fuel: the ox thus boils himself. _18th November, 1868._--A pretty little woman ran away from her husband, and came to "Mpamari." Her husband brought three hoes, a checked cloth, and two strings of large neck beads to redeem her; but this old fellow wants her for himself, and by native law he can keep her as his slave-wife. Slave-owners make a bad neighbourhood, for the slaves, are always running away and the headmen are expected to restore the fugitives for a bit of cloth. An old woman of Mpmari fled three times; she was caught yesterday, and tied to a post for the young slaves to plague her. Her daughter burst into an agony of tears on seeing them tying her mother, and Mpamari ordered her to be tied to the mother's back for crying; I interceded for her, and she was let go. He said, "You don't care, though Sayed Majid loses his money." I replied, "Let the old woman go, she will be off again to-morrow." But they cannot bear to let a slave have freedom. I don't understand what effect his long prayers and prostrations towards the "Kibla" have on his own mind, they cannot affect the minds of his slaves favourably, nor do they mine, though I am as charitable as most people. _19th November, 1868._--I prepared to start to-day, but Mohamad Bogharib has been very kind, and indeed cooked meals for me from my arrival at Casembe's, 6th May last, till we came here, 22nd October; the food was coarse enough, but still it was food; and I did not like to refuse his genuine hospitality. He now begged of me not to go for three days, and then he would come along with me! Mpamari also entreated. I would not have minded him, but they have influence with the canoe-men on Tanganyika, and it is well not to get a bad name if possible. _20th November, 1868._--Mohamad Bogharib purposed to attack two villages near to this, from an idea that the people there concealed his runaway slaves; by remaining I think that I have put a stop to this, as he did not like to pillage while I was in company: Mpamari also turned round towards peace, though he called all the riff-raff to muster, and caracoled among them like an old broken-winded horse. One man became so excited with yelling, that the others had to disarm him, and he then fell down as if in a fit; water poured on his head brought him to calmness. We go on the 22nd. _22nd November, 1868._--This evening the Imbozhwa, or Babemba, came at dusk, and killed a Wanyamwezi woman on one side of the village, and a woman and child on the other side of it. I took this to be the result of the warlike demonstration mentioned above; but one of Mohamad Bogharib's people, named Bin Juma, had gone to a village on the north of this and seized two women and two girls, in lieu of four slaves who had run away. The headman, resenting this, shot an arrow into one of Bin Junta's party, and Bin Juma shot a woman with his gun. This, it turned out, had roused the whole country, and next morning we were assailed by a crowd of Imbozhwa on three sides: we had no stockade, but the men built one as fast as the enemy allowed, cutting down trees and carrying them to the line of defence, while others kept the assailants at bay with their guns. Had it not been for the crowd of Banyamwezi which we have, who shot vigorously with their arrows, and occasionally chased the Imbozhwa, we should have been routed. I did not go near the fighting, but remained in my house to defend my luggage if necessary. The women went up and down the village with sieves, as if winnowing, and singing songs, and lullilooing, to encourage their husbands and friends who were fighting, each had a branch of the Ficus indica in her hand, which she waved, I suppose as a charm. About ten of the Imbozhwa are said to have been killed, but dead and wounded were at once carried off by their countrymen. They continued the assault from early dawn till 1 P.M., and showed great bravery, but they wounded only two with their arrows. Their care to secure the wounded was admirable: two or three at once seized the fallen man, and ran off with him, though pursued by a great crowd of Banyamwezi with spears, and fired at by the Suaheli--Victoria-cross fellows truly many of them were! Those who had a bunch of animals' tails, with medicine, tied to their waists, came sidling and ambling up to near the unfinished stockade, and shot their arrows high up into the air, to fall among the Wanyamwezi, then picked up any arrows on the field, ran back, and returned again. They thought that by the ambling gait they avoided the balls, and when these whistled past them they put down their heads, as if to allow them to pass over; they had never encountered guns before. We did not then know it, but Muabo, Phuta, Ngurué, Sandaruko, and Chapi, were the assailants, for we found it out by the losses each of these five chiefs sustained. It was quite evident to me that the Suaheli Arabs were quite taken aback by the attitude of the natives; they expected them to flee as soon as they heard a gun fired in anger, but instead of this we were very nearly being cut off, and should have been but for our Banyamwezi allies. It is fortunate that the attacking party had no success in trying to get Mpwéto and Karembwé to join them against us, or it would have been more serious still. _24th November, 1868._--The Imbozhwa, or Babemba rather, came early this morning, and called on Mohamad to come out of his stockade if he were a man who could fight, but the fence is now finished, and no one seems willing to obey the taunting call: I have nothing to do with it, but feel thankful that I was detained, and did not, with my few attendants, fall into the hands of the justly infuriated Babemba. They kept up the attack to-day, and some went out to them, fighting till noon: when a man was killed and not carried off, the Wanyamwezi brought his head and put it on a pole on the stockade--six heads were thus placed. A fine young man was caught and brought in by the Wanyamwezi, one stabbed him behind, another cut his forehead with an axe, I called in vain to them not to kill him. As a last appeal, he said to the crowd that surrounded him, "Don't kill me, and I shall take you to where the women are." "You lie," said his enemies; "you intend to take us where we may be shot by your friends;" and they killed him. It was horrible: I protested loudly against any repetition of this wickedness, and the more sensible agreed that prisoners ought not to be killed, but the Banyamwezi are incensed against the Babemba because of the women killed on the 22nd. _25th November, 1868._--The Babemba kept off on the third day, and the Arabs are thinking it will be a good thing if we get out of the country unscathed. Men were sent off on the night of the 23rd to Syde bin Habib for powder and help. Mohamad Bogharib is now unwilling to take the onus of the war: he blames Mpamari, and Mpamari blames him; I told Mohamad that the war was undoubtedly his work, inasmuch as Bin Juma is his man, and he approved of his seizing the women. He does not like this, but it is true; he would not have entered a village of Casembe or Moamba or Chikumbi as he did Chapi's man's village: the people here are simply men of more metal than he imagined, and his folly in beginning a war in which, if possible, his slaves will slip through his hands is apparent to all, even to himself. Syde sent four barrels of gunpowder and ten men, who arrived during last night. _27th November, 1868._--Two of Muabo's men came over to bring on a parley; one told us that he had been on the south side of the village before, and heard one man say to another "mo pigé" (shoot him). Mpamari gave them a long oration in exculpation, but it was only the same everlasting, story of fugitive slaves. The slave-traders cannot prevent them from escaping, and impudently think that the country people ought to catch them, and thus be their humble servants, and also the persecutors of their own countrymen! If they cannot keep them, why buy them--why put their money into a bag with holes? It is exactly what took place in America--slave-owners are bad neighbours everywhere. Canada was threatened, England browbeaten, and the Northerners all but kicked on the same score, and all as if property in slaves had privileges which no other goods have. To hear the Arabs say of the slaves after they are fled, "Oh, they are bad, bad, very bad!" (and they entreated me too to free them from the yoke), is, as the young ladies say, "too absurd." The chiefs also who do not apprehend fugitives, they too are "bad." I proposed to Mohamad Bogharib to send back the women seized by Bin Juma, to show the Babemba that he disapproved of the act and was willing to make peace, but this was too humiliating; I added that their price as slaves was four barrels of gunpowder or 160 dollars, while slaves lawfully bought would have cost him only eight or ten yards of calico each. At the conclusion of Mpamari's speech the four barrels of gunpowder were exhibited, and so was the Koran, to impress them (Muabo's people) with an idea of their great power. _28th and 29th November, 1868._--It is proposed to go and force our way if we can to the north, but all feel that that would be a fine opportunity for the slaves to escape, and they would not be loth to embrace it; this makes it a serious matter, and the Koran is consulted at hours which are auspicious. _30th November, 1868._--Messengers sent to Muabo to ask a path, or in plain words protection from him; Mpamari protests his innocence of the whole affair. _1st December, 1868._--Muabo's people over again; would fain send them to make peace with Chapi! _2nd December, 1868._--The detention is excessively vexatious to me. Muabo sent three slaves as offers of peace--a fine self-imposed, but he is on our south side, and we wish to go north. _3rd December, 1868._--A party went to-day to clear the way to the north, but were warmly received by Babemba with arrows; they came back with one woman captured, and they say that they killed one man: one of themselves is wounded, and many others in danger: others who went east were shot at, and wounded too. _4th December, 1868._--A party went east, and were fain to flee from the Babemba, the same thing occurred on our west, and to-day _(5th)_ all were called to strengthen the stockade for fear that the enemy may enter uninvited. The slaves would certainly flee, and small blame to them though they did. Mpamari proposed to go off north by night, but his people objected, as even a child crying would arouse the Babemba, and reveal the flight, so finally he sent off to ask Syde what he ought to do, whether to retire by day or by night; probably entreating Syde to come and protect him. A sort of idol is found in every village in this part, it is of wood, and represents the features, markings and fashion of the hair of the inhabitants: some have little huts built for them--others are in common houses. The Babemba call them _Nkisi_ ("Sancan" of the Arabs): the people of Rua name one _Kalubi_; the plural, _Tulubi_; and they present pombe, flour, bhang, tobacco, and light a fire for them to smoke by. They represent the departed father or mother, and it is supposed that they are pleased with the offerings made to their representatives, but all deny that they pray to them. Casembe has very many of these Nkisi; one with long hair, and named _Motombo_, is carried in front when he takes the field; names of dead chiefs are sometimes given to them. I have not met with anyone intelligent enough to explain if prayers are ever made to anyone; the Arabs who know their language, say they have no prayers, and think that at death there is an end of the whole man, but other things lead me to believe this is erroneous. Slaves laugh at their countrymen, in imitation of their masters, and will not reveal their real thoughts: one said that they believed in two Superior Beings--Réza above, who kills people, and Réza below, who carries them away after death. _6th December, 1868._--Ten of Syde bin Habib's people came over, bringing a letter, the contents of which neither Mpamari nor Mohamad cares to reveal. Some think, with great probability, that he asks, "Why did you begin a war if you wanted to leave so soon? Did you not know that the country people would take advantage of your march, encumbered as you will be by women and slaves?" Mohamad Bogharib called me to ask what advice I could give him, as all his own advice, and devices too, had been lost or were useless, and he did not know what to do. The Banyamwezi threatened to go off by night and leave him, as they are incensed against the Babemba, and offended because the Arabs do not aid them in wreaking their vengeance upon them. I took care not to give any advice, but said, if I had been or was in his place, I would have sent or would send back Bin Juma's captives, to show that I disapproved of his act--the first in the war--and was willing to make peace with Chapi. He said that he did not know that Bin Juma would capture these people; that Bin Juma had met some natives with fish, and took ten by force, that the natives, in revenge, caught three Banyamwezi slaves, and Bin Juma then gave one slave to them as a fine, but Mohamad did not know of this affair either. I am of opinion, however, that he was fully aware of both matters, and Mpamari's caracoling showed that he knew it all, though now he denies it. Bin Juma is a long, thin, lanky Suaheli, six feet two high, with a hooked nose and large lips: I told Mohamad that if he were to go with us to Manyuema, the whole party would be cut off. He came here, bought a slave-boy, and allowed him to escape; then browbeat Chapi's man about him (and he says, three others); and caught ten in lieu of him, of which Mohamad restored six: this was the origin of the war. Now that we are in the middle of it, I must do as Mohamad does in going off either by day or by night. It is unreasonable to ask my advice now, but it is felt that they have very unjustifiably placed me in a false position, and they fear that Syed Majid will impute blame to them, meanwhile Syde bin Habib sent a private message to me to come with his men to him, and leave this party. I perceive that the plan now is to try and clear our way of Chapi, and then march, but I am so thoroughly disgusted with this slave-war, that I think of running the risk of attack by the country people, and go off to-morrow without Mohamad Bogharib, though I like him much more than I do Mpamari or Syde bin Habib. It is too glaring hypocrisy to go to the Koran for guidance while the stolen women, girls, and fish, are in Bin Juma's hands. _8th and 9th December, 1868._--I had to wait for the Banyamwezi preparing food: Mohamad has no authority over them, or indeed over anyone else. Two Babemba men came in and said that they had given up fighting, and begged for their wives, who had been captured by Syde's people on their way here: this reasonable request was refused at first, but better counsels prevailed, and they were willing to give something to appease the anger of the enemy, and sent back six captives, two of whom were the wives prayed for. [At last he makes a start on the 11th of December with the Arabs, who are bound eastwards for Ujiji. It is a motley group, composed of Mohamad and his friends, a gang of Unyamwezi hangers-on, and strings of wretched slaves yoked together in their heavy slave-sticks. Some carry ivory, others copper, or food for the march, whilst hope and fear, misery and villainy, may be read off on the various faces that pass in line out of this country, like a serpent dragging its accursed folds away from the victim it has paralysed with its fangs.] * * * * * _11th December, 1868._--We marched four hours unmolested by the natives, built a fence, and next day crossed the Lokinda River and its feeder the Mookosi; here the people belonged to Chisabi, who had not joined the other Babemba. We go between two ranges of tree-covered mountains, which are continuations of those on each side of Moero. _12th December, 1868._--The tiresome tale of slaves running away was repeated again last night by two of Mpamari's making off, though in the yoke, and they had been with him from boyhood. Not one good-looking slave-woman is now left of Mohamad Bogharib's fresh slaves; all the pretty ones obtain favour by their address, beg to be unyoked, and then escape. Four hours brought us to many villages of Chisabi and the camp of Syde bin Habib in the middle of a set-in rain, which marred the demonstration at meeting with his relative Mpamari; but the women braved it through, wet to the skin, and danced and lullilooed with "draigled" petticoats with a zeal worthy of a better cause, as the "penny-a-liners" say. It is the custom for the trader who receives visitors to slaughter goats, and feed all his guests for at least two days, nor was Syde wanting in this hospitality, though the set-in rain continuing, we did not enjoy it as in fine weather. _14th December, 1868._--Cotton-grass and brackens all over the country show the great humidity of Marungu. Rain daily; but this is not the great rain which falls when the sun comes back south over our heads. _15th December, 1868._--March two hours only to the range of Tamba. A pretty little light-grey owl, called "nkwékwé," was killed by a native as food; a black ring round its face and its black ears gave it all the appearance of a cat, whose habits it follows. _16th to 18th December, 1868._--A brother of Syde bin Habib died last night: I had made up my mind to leave the whole party, but Syde said that Chisabi was not to be trusted, and the death of his brother having happened, it would not be respectful to leave him to bury his dead alone. Six of his slaves fled during the night--one, the keeper of the others. A Mobemba man, who had been to the coast twice with him, is said to have wished a woman who was in the chain, so he loosed five out, and took her off; the others made clear heels of it, and now that the grass is long and green, no one can trace their course. Syde told me that the slaves would not have detained him, but his brother's death did. We buried the youth, who has been ill three months. Mpamari descended into the grave with four others; a broad cloth was held over them horizontally, and a little fluctuation made, as if to fan those who were depositing the body in the side excavation made at the bottom: when they had finished they pulled in earth, and all shoved it towards them till the grave was level. Mullam then came and poured a little water into and over the grave, mumbled a few prayers, at which Mpamari said aloud to me, "Mullam does not let his voice be heard;" and Mullam smiled to me, as if to say, "Loud enough for all I shall get:" during the ceremony the women were all wailing loudly. We went to the usual sitting-place, and shook hands with Syde, as if receiving him back again into the company of the living. Syde told me previously to this event that he had fought the people who killed his elder brother Salem bin Habib, and would continue to fight them till all their country was spoiled and a desolation: there is no forgiveness with Moslems for bloodshed. He killed many, and took many slaves, ivory, and copper: his tusks number over 200, many of large size. _19th and 20th December, 1868._--To Chisabi's village stockade, on the left bank of the Lofunso, which flows in a marshy valley three miles broad. Eight of Mohamad Bogharib's slaves fled by night, one with his gun and wife; a, large party went in search, but saw nothing of them. To-day an elephant was killed, and they sent for the meat, but Chisabi ordered the men to let his meat alone: experience at Kabwabwata said, "Take the gentle course," so two fathoms of calico and two hoes were sent to propitiate the chief; Chisabi then demanded half the meat and one tusk: the meat was given, but the tusk was mildly refused: he is but a youth, and this is only the act of his counsellors. It was replied that Casembe, Chikumbi, Nsama, Meréré, made no demand at all: his counsellors have probably heard of the Portuguese self-imposed law, and wish to introduce it here, but both tusks were secured. _22nd December, 1868._--We crossed the Lofunso River, wading three branches, the first of forty-seven yards, then the river itself, fifty yards, and neck deep to men and women of ordinary size. Two were swept away and drowned; other two were rescued by men leaping in and saving them, one of whom was my man Susi. A crocodile bit one person badly, but was struck, and driven off. Two slaves escaped by night; a woman loosed her husband's yoke from the tree, and got clear off. _24th December, 1868._--Five sick people detain us to-day; some cannot walk from feebleness and purging brought on by sleeping on the damp ground without clothes. Syde bin Habib reports a peculiar breed of goats in Rua, remarkably short in the legs, so much so, that they cannot travel far; they give much milk, and become very fat, but the meat is indifferent. Gold is found at Katanga in the pool of a waterfall only: it probably comes from the rocks above this. His account of the Lofu, or, as he says, West Lualaba, is identical with that of his cousin, Syde bin Omar; it flows north, but west of Lufira, into the Lake of Kinkonza, so named after the chief. The East Lualaba becomes very large, often as much as six or eight miles broad, with many inhabited islands, the people of which, being safe from invasion, are consequently rapacious and dishonest, and their chiefs, Moengé and Nyamakunda, are equally lawless. A hunter, belonging to Syde, named Kabwebwa, gave much information gleaned during his hunting trips; for instance, the Lufira has nine feeders of large size; and one, the Lekulwé, has also nine feeders; another, the Kisungu, is covered with, "tikatika," by which the people cross it, though it bends under their weight; he also ascribes the origin of the Lufira and the Lualaba West, or Lofu, with the Liambai to one large earthen mound, which he calls "segulo," or an anthill! _25th December, 1868, Christmas Day._--We can buy nothing except the very coarsest food--not a goat or fowl--while Syde, having plenty of copper, can get all the luxuries. We marched past Mount Katanga, leaving it on our left, to the River Kapéta, and slaughtered a favourite kid to make a Christmas dinner. A trading-party came up from Ujiji; they said that we were ten camps from Tanganyika. They gave an erroneous report that a steamer with a boat in tow was on Lake Chowambé--an English one, too, with plenty of cloth and beads on board. A letter had come from Abdullah bin Salem, Moslem missionary at Mtésa's, to Ujiji three months ago with this news. _26th December, 1868._--We marched up an ascent 2-1/2 hours, and got on to the top of one of the mountain ridges, which generally run N. and S. Three hours along this level top brought us to the Kibawé River, a roaring rivulet beside villages. There were no people on the height over which we came, though the country is very fine--green and gay with varying shades of that colour. We passed through patches of brackens five feet high and gingers in flower, and were in a damp cloud all day. Now and then a drizzle falls in these parts, but it keeps all damp only, and does not show in the rain-gauge. Neither sun nor stars appear. _27th and 28th December, 1868._--Remain on Sunday, then march and cross five rivulets about four yards wide and knee deep, going to the Lofunso. The grass now begins to cover and hide the paths; its growth is very rapid: blobs of water lie on the leaves all day, and keep the feet constantly wet by falling as we pass. _29th December, 1868._--We kept well on the ridge between two ranges of hills; then went down, and found a partially-burned native stockade, and lodged in it; the fires of the Ujiji party had set the huts on fire after the party left. We are in the Itandé district at the Nswiba River. _30th December, 1868._--We now went due east, and made a good deal of easting too from Mount Katanga on the Lofunso, and crossed the River Lokivwa, twelve yards wide, and very deep, with villages all about. We ascended much as we went east. Very high mountains appeared on the N.W. The woods dark gieen, with large patches of a paler hue. _31st December, 1868._--We reached the Lofuko yesterday in a pelting rain; not knowing that the camp with huts was near, I stopped and put on a bernouse, got wet, and had no dry clothes. Remain to-day to buy food. Clouds cover all the sky from N.W. The river, thirty yards wide, goes to Tanganyika east of this. Scenery very lovely. FOOTNOTES: [66] In 1827 Linant reached 13° 30' N. on the White Nile. In 1841 the second Egyptian, under D'Arnauld and Sabatier, explored the river to 4° 42' N., and Jomard published his work on Limmoo and the River Habaiah. Dr. Beke and Mr. D'Abbadie contributed their share to making the Nile better known. Brun Rollet established a trading station in 1854 at Belema on the Nile at 5° N. lat. [67] Miss Tinné succumbed to the dangers of African travelling before Livingstone penned these just words of appreciation. [68] Ezek. xxiv. 5. END OF VOL. I. 
47030	----	KOPHETUA THE THIRTEENTH BY JULIAN CORBETT AUTHOR OF "THE FALL OF ASGARD," "FOR GOD AND GOLD," ETC. London MACMILLAN & CO. AND NEW YORK 1889 _The right of translation is reserved_ CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE ONEIRIA, 1 CHAPTER II. HIS MAJESTY, 8 CHAPTER III. THE MARRIAGE QUESTION, 17 CHAPTER IV. THE QUEEN-MOTHER, 26 CHAPTER V. MADEMOISELLE DE TRICOTRIN, 38 CHAPTER VI. THE KING'S COUNCILLORS, 52 CHAPTER VII. THE LIBERTIES OF ST. LAZARUS, 64 CHAPTER VIII. ESCAPE, BUT NOT LIBERTY, 81 CHAPTER IX. IN THE QUEEN'S GARDEN, 94 CHAPTER X. THE FALL OF TURBO, 108 CHAPTER XI. OPENING THE CAMPAIGN, 120 CHAPTER XII. A DECISIVE ACTION, 133 CHAPTER XIII. MISTRESS AND MAID, 148 CHAPTER XIV. "MORIBUNDUS AMOR," 159 CHAPTER XV. TWO VICTIMS, 171 CHAPTER XVI. A NIGHT MARCH, 185 CHAPTER XVII. "CHECK!", 196 CHAPTER XVIII. THE QUEEN'S MOVE, 216 CHAPTER XIX. CONSPIRATORS, 230 CHAPTER XX. PLAYERS, 245 CHAPTER XXI. HUNTER AND HUNTED, 262 CHAPTER XXII. HERMITS, 275 CHAPTER XXIII. AN OFFICIAL REPORT, 291 CHAPTER XXIV. THE SACRIFICE OF LOVE, 301 CHAPTER XXV. THE CROWN OF KISSES, 319 CHAPTER I. ONEIRIA. "I read that once in Affrica A princely wight did raine, Who had to name Kophetua, As poets they did faine." The outburst of political speculation which followed the Renaissance is well known to us by its remarkable literature. True it is that the greater part of it is long since dead and sleeps in peace, save where every now and then its ghosts are scared by a literary historian. But this obscurity only adds to its interest, and increases at once the charm, the safety, and the credit we may enjoy in discussing it. For the ordinary Englishman perhaps the only work of the class which is still really alive is the delightful political romance of Sir Thomas More. Yet to those who love the dustier shelves of libraries long ranks of its comrades will be not unfamiliar, standing guard as it were over the memory of an intellectual movement as vigorous and creative as any the world has seen. It is to the more daring and fantastic of these works that this chapter in the history of philosophy owes its charm and freshness. So entrancing indeed are they that those double traitors to humanity, who not only write books, but write books about books, have led us to look upon these ponderous folios as the only mark the movement has left on history, and we are apt to forget that it also had its practical side. Yet that side not only had an existence, but it was even more romantic and fanciful than the other. For many of the pregnant seeds from the tree of political knowledge, which the strong breath of the Renaissance was wafting over Europe, fell on good ground, where pedantry did not spring up and choke them. There were many cultivated earnest gentlemen of that time in whose chivalrous hearts they alighted, and whose imagination was so stirred with the new ideas, that they actually attempted to carry them into practice. Coming as the movement did contemporaneously with the dayspring of colonial enterprise, it naturally suggested itself to these high-souled scholars to leave the corruption and oppression of the old countries which it was hopeless to reform, and sailing away with a little community of kindred souls in whom the new spirit breathed, to found in some distant land a colony, where a polity established in pure reason should grow to be a model to the world. Many of these attempts were complete failures at once, nearly all were more or less short-lived, and by the end of the last century there was not one so prosperous as the African colony of Oneiria. Lying as it did in that remote and little-known corner of the world which is watered by the Drâa and its tributaries, and is intersected by the spurs of the Anti-Atlas, it had been able to enjoy after its first struggle for existence the repose of a well-earned obscurity. There was no one who envied it anything, and consequently it had no enemy, nor even an importunate friend to seek its alliance and lead it into scrapes. The half savage Shelluhs, who sparsely occupied the country, were soon content to remain as tributaries under their own chiefs, in the more inaccessible parts of the mountains, and to leave the teeming valleys and table-lands to the newcomers. Through the Canary Islands the colony kept up a small but regular trade with Western Europe. The exports were of a very mixed nature, but chiefly consisted of dates. As the country was practically self-supporting, the imports were comparatively simple. They were confined to books, works of art, and clothes of the latest mode. For it was the pride of Oneiria, as with most other colonies of the time, that, notwithstanding its remote position, it floated on the surface of European opinion; and so freely did it indulge in this delicious conviction, that it is to be feared it grew but too often to an actual intemperance, and at the time of which I speak there is no doubt that Oneiria sometimes caricatured the fantasies of a fantastic age. Internally Oneiria was almost as unruffled as in its foreign relations. The elaborate constitution of the original founder worked so smoothly and effectively that crime and even discontent seemed almost unknown. The most ingenious and conscientious politicians had long ago abandoned the hopeless struggle to extract a difference of opinion out of questions of the interior. This dearth of disagreement led to a serious famine in the political world, that had it not been for one recurrent topic, of which I shall have to speak more fully hereafter, politics must have completely perished of starvation. It is not clear who the founder of the fortunate colony was. From an exaggerated niceness of honour, so characteristic of the age we call Elizabethan, he seems to have taken most ingenious precautions that his very name should be forgotten, lest it might appear that his experiment was a device to feed his personal vanity rather than the disinterested sacrifice it really was. That he was an Englishman, who had considerably modified his national characteristics by extensive and sagacious travel, is almost certain. His followers were believed to have been recruited from amongst the hardy seafaring population of the coasts of Bohemia, though more recent conjecture points to the fact that London was the real parent of the colony, and it is suggested that by "Bohemia" the "Alsatia" of Whitefriars is really intended. However, as the whole of the evidence on the subject is contained in the following pages, it will be an advantage to allow the reader to judge for himself upon the whole case, and so avoid a tedious and possibly unfruitful discussion. The fact in the early history of the colony most interesting for us is fortunately beyond dispute. Oneiria was, without a shadow of doubt, founded on the ruins of the kingdom of that Kophetua whose romantic love-story, probably a good deal perverted, is so familiar to us from the beautiful ballads of the "King and the Beggar-Maid." It was this which must have suggested to the founder his first steps towards oblivion when he ascended his new throne under the style of Kophetua II. Were this fact not established from other sources, beyond all question there is ample evidence in the present story to support it. The ancient kingdom must have been dying, and not dead, at the time. We shall meet with constant traces of an older, ruder, and more Oriental civilisation underlying the scientific superstructure of the English knight. The results were extremely curious, but perhaps the most interesting phenomenon to which this peculiar fact gave rise, was the extraordinary organisation and privileges of the beggar class, though it is possible that some of their wilder laws and customs were a direct importation from "Whitefriars." It is a pity that no more is known on these points, but further inquiry is almost hopeless. The colony was entirely destroyed soon after the happy reign of Kophetua XIII. and his beloved Queen came peacefully to an end. There was but a day between their deaths, and so prostrated were the people by the sudden loss of both their idolised sovereigns, that they seem to have been able to offer no adequate resistance to a _Jehad_ which, for some unknown cause, was preached against them amongst the neighbouring Mussulman tribes. It is probable that they had made some attempts to intervene for the protection of the last of the Berber Christians. A few of these highly interesting survivals are believed to have been still in existence at the end of the last century, in the remoter parts of the Atlas, and some may possibly have continued even later. All, however, which we know for certain is that in one of those strange restless upheavals, so characteristic of the north of Africa, the Mussulman Berbers rose and flowed like a flood over what was once Oneiria. As suddenly as the colony had appeared, it disappeared from history; the country is now impenetrable to Europeans, and has not been visited since the destruction of the colony. Rohlfs, indeed, tells us that somewhere in the basin of the Drâa he saw amongst the distant hills what looked like the nave and tower of a church, and he further noticed that in this region the people had a much higher style of architecture, and otherwise seemed distinctly more civilised, than the tribes he was already familiar with. But no other traces of the colony have been met with, and its destruction must have been as complete as it was sudden. Beyond what has already been related, all that is known or likely to be known of Oneiria is contained in the following pages, which deal with a romantic episode in the life of King Kophetua XIII. We must congratulate ourselves that even so much was preserved by the taste of a gentleman who visited the colony at the beginning of this century, and brought back with him the notes from which the present romance is taken. For romance it certainly is, and there seems no reason why we should deprive it of that title simply because it is also a record of historical occurrences. CHAPTER II. HIS MAJESTY. "From nature's lawes he did decline, For sure he was not of my mind: He cared not for women-kinde, But did them all disdaine." Kophetua was undoubtedly the handsomest man in his kingdom. The slightest suspicion of Moorish blood, incurred from a Spanish ancestress, had only added, as it were, a tropical richness to the beauty which he had inherited from the founder, and that was no small inheritance. It was part of the constitution that every king of Oneiria should be known by the name of Kophetua, but a grateful and imaginative people had been dissatisfied with the bald arithmetical distinctions which this law entailed. In the old fashion they had begun to speak of their sovereigns by surnames, till an unforeseen difficulty arose. After the death of the founder, his splendid sons succeeded him one after another with an alarming rapidity, due to the reckless exposure of their persons to the early Berber enemies of the State. Every brother was handsomer than the last, and obviously demanded a surname expressive of personal beauty. It was a characteristic so dazzling that the popular mind could not fix itself on any other of the family qualities, brilliant as they were. To a humorous people the monotony soon became ridiculous, and every one was relieved when, before two generations had passed away, it was found that every word in the Oneirian vocabulary in any way synonymous with "handsome" was already exhausted, and by tacit agreement the country fell back restfully upon the limitless resources of the ordinal numbers. So our Kophetua was simply known as "Thirteenth." Yet it made a pretty name when you got used to it. It is a soft-sounding one as it stands, and was still prettier in the popular dialect. As the trade of the country was almost entirely with the Canaries, the common people counted in Spanish, and so by a diminutive of affection their King was known to them as "Trecenito." Yet of all the line of Kophetuas he most deserved a more distinctive surname. Any one must have so agreed who could have seen him as he sat to-day in his library with a copy of Rousseau's _Origin of Inequality_ dropped listlessly on his knees. It was an ideal book-room, in the style of the early French Renaissance. The whole palace indeed was designed in the same manner. It was the most eclectic style the founder could light upon, and everything in Oneiria was eclectic. Ten panels opposite the ten windows were occupied by fine portraits of the ten successors of the founder. Trecenito's own had to hang on a screen. At either end of the long chamber was a magnificent fireplace reaching to the panelled ceiling. Not that a fireplace was ever necessary in the balmy air of Oneiria, but still, where the capital was situated, amongst the hills facing the Atlantic, it enjoyed a temperate climate, and with considerable discomfort fires could be endured on the coldest days. This discomfort every one was glad to undergo for the sake of the European atmosphere generated by the blazing logs. It was hot but refined, and that was everything to a well-bred Oneirian. In a smaller panel above one of these sacred hearths was a picture of the first King Kophetua placing with love-lorn gesture the wondering beggar-maid upon his jewelled throne. It was a beautiful work, obviously by a dreamy and backward pupil of Perugino. By his childish colour, naïve composition, and vague expression of sentiment, the painter had unconsciously given a charm to the subject which the greatest of his contemporaries could never have achieved. You turned from it with a sympathetic smile to look in vain down the long vista of books for the founder's portrait over the other hearth. Picture there was none. Even his features were forgotten, but where the painting should have been hung a splendid suit of armour of the later sixteenth century fashion. Morion, corselet, tassets, all were richly chased. Below hung a great pair of Cordovan boots armed with heavy gilded spurs. One gauntlet seemed to grasp a five-foot rapier with a great cup-guard and hilt-points of extravagant length, while in the other was placed a shell-dagger of the same design. It was the very suit in which the heroic founder had stepped from his pinnace upon the burning sand, and claimed that land for his company "by right divine of inheritance from Adam," and somehow that trophy of arms always gave to Trecenito a vivid sense of the old knight's presence in the room, which no dead portrait could have conveyed. Indeed, it was not hard to fancy a grim face beneath the shadow of the peaked morion, as the gloom of evening fell and the firelight flickered. It was on this the king was gazing with his Rousseau on his knees. Surfeited with philosophy, he fell to musing on his ancestor till he saw beneath the morion the stern, burnt features, as he pictured them, with grey pointed beard and bristling moustache. He could not help contrasting the fancy with his own smooth, shaven face, and the old adventurous life with his own colourless existence. "Turbo!" he cried, as, stung with the unhappy contrast, he started up and half unconsciously tore off a black patch which, after the custom of the time, adorned his cheek--"Turbo! I am a miserable man." "So your majesty is continually hinting. May I die if I know why!" With an air of well-feigned interest in his monarch's state of mind, the speaker rose from an elegant buhl writing-table, which would have been covered with official papers had there been any business for the King to transact with his Chancellor; but as usual there was none, and the table bore nothing weightier than a half-finished copy of Latin verses, perhaps quite heavy enough for its slender proportions, for the Chancellor was a poet by conviction rather than birth. Indeed poetry could hardly have dwelt in a form so revolting. His face was distorted by two livid scars. One stretched across the lower part of his nose up to his right eye, which in healing it had drawn down so that it looked like a bloodhound's. The other ran across his mouth in such a way that it exposed his teeth on one side and gave to his face a snarling expression that was acutely unprepossessing. His shoulders, too, seemed in some way ill-matched, and he joined Kophetua at the founder's hearth with an ungainly limp which completed the picture of deformity he presented. "No! may I die if I know why," repeated Turbo. "Ah, you will not understand," said the King. "How can I be happy, how can I live according to nature, leading the life I do, without an annoyance, literally without an annoyance? How can I ever rival the knight," he went on, "with nothing to overcome, with nothing to stand in my way? I tell you I am a miserable man." "If your majesty will have it so," answered Turbo, "I must of course agree." "And why should you not in any case?" asked Kophetua a little testily. "Look at me. Here before you is practically the only sovereign in the civilised world who at this moment has not a revolution more or less developed in his dominions, while my disgracefully contented subjects will not--why, they will not even read the Jacobin paper we have been at the pains surreptitiously to start for them." "No," said the Chancellor gravely, "I believe that only six copies were sold this week. There were two copies for you and me, one for the Queen-mother, and one for General Dolabella, who I am sure only lights his pipe with it. There was one went to the beggars for decorative purposes, it is said; and the sixth--let me see," he continued as he limped to his desk and took out a small memorandum on large official paper. "The sixth--ah! yes, that was a presentation copy to the Museum which I paid for myself." "It is heart-breaking, absolutely heart-breaking," cried the King. "To what end have I spent all these years in the study of politics? To what end have you lavished your inestimable instruction on me, and sacrificed what should have been the most brilliant career in Europe in order to educate me for a throne? Is there a single writer on statecraft, from Plato to More, from Machiavelli to Voltaire, that I have not mastered from end to end, to say nothing of the knight's manuscript?" "Indeed, sire," answered the Chancellor, "you have made yourself a most consummate statesman." "No, Turbo," said the King, "be just. It is you that have made me so. Without you these books would have said not a word to me for all their wisdom. But to what end is it all, I say? Here I stand disgraced before the knight's armour, not because I will not or cannot do anything, but because there is nothing to do. I tell you, Turbo, I shrink with shame when I see his grave face look out at me from under the morion, and yet,"--he went on, pacing the room, with a noble look on his handsome face,--"he has no right to scorn me. I know that were there wrongs to right, I have will and power to right them, or at least the courage to die fighting for the same end to which his heroic life was sacrificed." "Well, be comforted," said Turbo; "to-morrow you will have an annoyance. For to-morrow, I would remind you, comes your mother's last choice for you; at least, I imagine that is the intention. It will be very serious this time. Remember you have entered your thirtieth year, and if at the end of it you are not married----" "By the constitution," broke in the King, "I shall cease to reign. I know it, and then they will elect you. I cannot help it. I shall dislike and despise this woman, as I do every other. Thank God, I have learnt your lesson well. How I should have been deceived had it not been for the wise misogyny which you, my dear instructor, were at such pains to teach me!" As he spoke he stretched out his hand as though to lay it affectionately on his old governor's shoulder, when there was a sudden clash of steel overhead. With a start he looked up in time to catch the founder's long rapier as it fell, and in a moment he was standing with its great hilt in his outstretched hand and its point straight at the heart of Turbo, who started back in alarm. Kophetua turned deadly pale, hardly daring to think what this ghostly warning might mean. As he felt the dusty hilt between his fingers it was as though the dead, war-worn hand of his ancestor were stretched up out of the grave to grasp his own: he stood almost expecting to hear a hollow voice from under the morion, and Turbo watched him with restless eyes. Even as he held it the King knew the heavy weapon was tiring his arm. It was the last touch to his misery, and he dropped the point with a little nervous laugh. "One would think," he said, in a voice that sounded very strange in the dead silence which followed the clash of steel,--"One would think the old knight discerned in you an enemy instead of my best and only friend." The Chancellor laughed loud and hoarsely at the King's humour, but did not touch the weapon which his monarch laid down sorrowfully. "The wire must have rusted away till it broke," said he. "Exactly," said the King. "Yet it is a most remarkable occurrence." A short but awkward silence followed, till fortunately the chamberlain entered the room to inquire if the King desired to prepare for supper. So the colloquy of the two friends ended, and Turbo was left alone, gazing absently out of the window at the beggars before the palace gate, as one by one they rose from their crouching postures, stretched their cramped limbs, and wandered slowly away to their dens with the air of men conscientiously satisfied with a long day's work. CHAPTER III. THE MARRIAGE QUESTION. "The Lords they tooke it grievously, The Commons cryed pitiously." It has already been mentioned that there was one recurrent subject of discussion which saved Oneirian politics from entire extinction. This was the great marriage question. The wise founder, anxious no doubt to perpetuate his race to the ends for which he had lived, and fully aware of the jeopardy to which his descendants would be exposed in the midst of savage Berber tribes, had made it an intrinsic part of the constitution that every king of Oneiria, before he reached the age of thirty, must marry the woman chosen for him by his people. Formerly the Parliament had taken the greatest interest in its legislative work. Each proposal was debated at length, and with considerable intelligence. In process of time, however, all this changed. The founder had elaborated a system of taxation, something on the lines of that afterwards described by Harrington in his _Oceana_, whereby it was made by a natural development self-extinguishing. An unhappy result of the contrivance was perhaps unforeseen by the founder, but it soon appeared that as the central fund increased and the annual taxes dwindled, it was more and more difficult to get members to attend the sessions. Before the colony was a hundred years old taxes were declared unnecessary, and at an end for ever. By an inherent elasticity the central fund grew with the growth of the people, and even began to afford a surplus to be distributed amongst the beggars. There was no need any longer to vote money. No reform of the perfected laws was possible. Parliament became an agreeable club, to which the members when once elected belonged by tacit consent for life. Sessions were, however, still held, where the more imaginative deputies debated the sublime and eternal principles of government, and pointed out to each other, with never fading satisfaction, how divinely the Oneirian statute-book embodied that quintessential spirit of justice which their heated rhapsodies had distilled. As for their business, it was almost entirely formal, consisting chiefly in the periodical endorsement of the King's choice from among their own number of the great state officers. It will then be easily understood how jealously they valued their last live prerogative of choosing the King's bride. As a matter of fact, of course, she was always selected by the high officers of state, and the Parliament ratified the choice; but this ratification could not be said to be a mere form, for as late as the beginning of the century the House had absolutely refused to endorse the ministers' choice, because the lady presented to them was not sufficiently beautiful. Since then greater care had been exercised in the preliminary selection, and the attendant ceremonial considerably elaborated. The bride-elect was now presented to the full House, dressed with every care and splendour which was in any way calculated to enhance her attractions, and after question put and carried, the decision of the House was sealed by the Speaker imprinting a kiss upon the lips of the chosen beauty as she knelt before the chair. Thereupon he raised her up, and pronounced her election in this poetic form, "Reign, beautiful princess, crowned with a people's kiss." Since the introduction of the new coronation ceremony the office of Speaker had become extremely popular. He was elected annually by virtue of the original constitution and party feeling on the marriage question, began once more to run very high, as the election was always decided on strictly party lines in relation to this single topic. It will be easy, then, to picture the condition of political circles at the time of which we are now speaking. For some eight years the King had been seen to reject beauty after beauty without reason given, to the acute disappointment of successive Speakers. But now the period had arrived when he must absolutely marry within the year and the excitement over the approaching election to the chair had reached an almost alarming intensity. The body politic was divided into two main parties, the _Kallists_, who professed that beauty should be the sole ground on which the queen should be chosen, and the _Agathists_, who would have the selection determined by moral worth alone. Such at least was said to be the distinction when intelligent foreigners asked for information. Possibly it was actually so once, but now the principles of the two parties so overlapped that the only real question between them was who should elect the Speaker. It should perhaps be mentioned that there was a third party styling themselves the _Kallikagathists_. They were a well-meaning offshoot of the Agathists, who, fondly believing that two distinct policies still existed, thought to produce unity by adopting both. So far it had been a failure, and though the party had the names of many superior persons upon it, it was little regarded. The Court was divided into corresponding groups, and what further complicated political relations was that the heads of the separate palace circles were regarded as the leaders of the Parliamentary parties, although of course their aims were widely different. In the House the occupation of the chair filled the whole political horizon. In the palace that was a matter of complete indifference, and the whole struggle was to see whose introduction would eventually be made acceptable to the King. Thus between the leaders and their followers there existed no more real connection than there did between the professed opinions of the respective parties and their actual aims, and it may be doubted whether any country in Europe had been so entirely successful in elaborating a party system by which it was impossible for any question to be decided on its merits. The system can only be described as chaotic. Every trace of the original landmarks had disappeared, and yet a good Kallist would rather be called anything than an Agathist, unless perhaps it were a Kallikagathist. An Agathist regarded a Kallist as a frivolous person of low moral tone, while, in the eyes of a Kallist, an Agathist was a detestable outcome of the Puritan taint in the old settlers, a shallow pretender to an impossible standard of virtue. A Kallist who could invent a new way of saying an Agathist was a prig became a marked personality in the House, while a young Agathist who succeeded in inventing a fresh figure to express his contempt for a cynic might at once pose as a coming man. Cynicism was certainly the prevailing tone of the Kallist salons. There you might hear of a young girl who had hurried for an hour's relaxation from the sickbed of a brother, or a genial old gentleman who had spent his day in extricating a poor relation from a debtor's prison, giving it as their perfected conviction that no excellence could be credited with existence which you could not see. On the other hand, the atmosphere of Agathist gatherings was decidedly one of moral platitude, where elaborately dressed men and daintily rouged women prattled in polished phrase of the nothingness of exteriors, and the all-sufficiency of truth and goodness. It is certainly remarkable that a similar condition of society has appeared nowhere else, and it is these unique politico-social phenomena which constitute Oneiria's chief claim to find an adequate historian. At present the Kallists were in the ascendant. With Turbo at their head they were naturally more than a match for the opposition, whose fortunes at court were intrusted to the Queen-mother. The Chancellor was certainly the strongest statesman who had appeared in the colony since its foundation, while the Queen Margaret was fitted for her position rather by disposition than political ability. She was the daughter of a German officer of noble birth who, having entered the service of Spain, rose to be Governor of the Canaries. From him she inherited all the homely simplicity so characteristic of the family relations of his nation. Otherwise she was not without shrewdness and a certain power of resistance, which enabled her to oppose the splendid abilities of the Chancellor as well, perhaps, as any one in the kingdom. It was whispered that there were other reasons why these two naturally found themselves in opposite camps, reasons that were known to none but themselves. There would have been little doubt that the report was well founded in the mind of any one who could have seen the Chancellor as he stood at the window watching the beggars. Ten minutes after the King had left there was a sound on his ear of a woman's tread in the ante-chamber, and a gentle rustle of a silk dress upon the polished boards. Turbo started and looked towards the door. It began to open, and as quickly he turned to the window again. "That will do," said a soft voice full of quiet dignity. "You need not stay. I wish to be alone, and shall remain here till suppertime. Attend me then." The heavy door closed, and the Chancellor looked round to see the Queen-mother advancing into the room. She was a handsome woman of not more than fifty, with a spare, stately figure. In her powder and rouge and the modish gown she had just assumed for the evening she looked little more than half her age. At least so thought the Chancellor; and, as the fitful firelight lit up her queenly form, she looked to him almost as beautiful as though a quarter of a century had not passed since first they met. "If your majesty would be alone," said Turbo, with a profound bow, "I pray your leave to retire." "I would be alone with you, Chancellor," the Queen answered. "I wish to speak with you." "And your majesty denied me the pleasure of waiting on you?" said the Chancellor, with a smile that made his snarl more hideously apparent. "Yes," the Queen replied; "because I have that to say which I would have no one hear; and, besides, there are other reasons why none should know of our interview." "Your majesty interests me strangely," said the Chancellor. "I wish to speak to you about my son," said the Queen, with a slight tremor in her voice. She drew towards the founder's hearth, and sat down in a great chair that was almost a throne, and, at the same time, motioned the Chancellor to a seat opposite to her. "Be seated," she said, with the same hesitation as before; "I want to converse with you as an old friend." She looked at Turbo wistfully, as though to see some softening of his snarl, but he avoided her glance with another profound bow in acknowledgment of her condescension; and the Queen's heart sank as she felt her mission was almost hopeless. CHAPTER IV. THE QUEEN-MOTHER. "Disdaine no whit, O lady deere, But pity now thy servant here." For a while they sat in silence looking into the fire. Indeed it was hard for the Queen-mother to know how to begin. Let it be said at once frankly, she and Turbo had loved each other. It was long ago now, and far away--in fair Castile,--when he was the brilliant and accomplished young secretary of her father. He was no mere clerk, but a youth of noble family, an aspirant to the great offices of the state, who had taken the post to learn the business of administration. Thus there was no reason why he should not openly show his adoration for his chief's beautiful daughter, or why she should seek to hide her love for him. Daily they met, and daily his passion grew. He loved her with all the ardour of which his hot Spanish blood was capable, so that it maddened him to see how cold and calm was her northern heart, loving as it was, beside the fever that consumed him. Yet he was happy in the knowledge of her love, and all went well till one night her father entertained an officer to whom he had taken a liking. He was a man of brilliant wit, but known as a greedy duellist. Yet Margaret was amused, and laughed and talked gaily with him till he departed. Turbo accompanied him to a tavern hard by for a parting cup. The place was full of gentlemen, many of whom the officer knew. They fell to talking, then to boasting, till in an evil hour the man vaunted his new conquest, and let fall a little light word with Margaret's name. In a moment he had the lie and a stinging blow on the mouth from Turbo's glove. All efforts of the young secretary's friends to save him from his quixotic folly were in vain. He would listen to no explanation. He would receive no apology. The least he could do, it seemed to him, to show himself worthy of his treasured love, was to chastise the man who had breathed ever so faintly on his mistress's name. They fought on horseback, with pistols and swords. It was all the youth's friends could do in order to equalise the chances. Yet the affair was little better than murder. The first shot hit Turbo in the knee, the second tore across his lips. Half choking with blood he fell on with his sword; but no sooner were they engaged than a fearful gash across the face blinded him. In the agony of the moment he checked his rearing horse sharply, and the frantic animal fell over on the top of him. For months he lay in the hospital almost between life and death. Every day came flowers and a little loving note from Margaret, overflowing with pity and gratitude. It made him bear his terrible suffering with a gay heart to see how much his courage had won him. His chief came constantly to his bedside, and spoke to him as a son-in-law; but ere he was fully recovered, and clear of the pestilential air of the hospital, he was taken with the small-pox. Another terrible period of waiting and suffering ensued, and by the time he was able to leave the hospital, Margaret and her father had sailed for the Canaries. Without a moment's delay he followed them, and at length the longed-for moment was to come, when he should hold his love in his arms once more. She burst into the room with a glad cry when they told her he was come, but no sooner did she set eyes on his mangled form than she stopped transfixed with horror, and with a terrible scream fell to the ground. The shock threw her into a dangerous illness, and when she recovered nothing more was said of a marriage. Turbo accepted his fate, but with a bitterness that poisoned his whole nature. His love was no less than before, and it was only by the nursing of a bitter contempt for its object, and all the daughters of Eve, that he could make his life endurable. And yet he could not tear himself from her side. The months went by, and still he remained at his old post, and when Margaret left to become Queen of Oneiria, he accepted the place which Kophetua XII.--the present king's father--offered him out of admiration for his abilities, and pity for his miserable story. When the young prince was born, so great was the esteem in which Turbo was held, that he was appointed his governor; and as soon as the boy was old enough to be out of the nurse's hands, Turbo began to win a surprising influence over him. So great was the affection that grew up between the ill-assorted pair, that when the king died it was found that Turbo was named guardian in the will, and it was from this post that he had been elevated to the chancellorship as soon as the boy came of age. With such a pricking memory in her mind it is not to be wondered at that the poor Queen sat looking long into the fire before she spoke; especially as all her own, and, what was more, all her son's happiness seemed to hang on the result of the interview. "Do you mean to thwart me again, Chancellor?" she said at last abruptly. "I trust I have never willingly thwarted your majesty in anything," he answered. "Nay, I cry a truce on courtly fictions," said the Queen, a little impatiently. "Let us be frank for once." "As your majesty pleases," answered the Chancellor, without the least unbending. "To-morrow the Marquis de Tricotrin will arrive with his daughter. You know?" began the unhappy Queen. "I have heard so unofficially." "And you know why she is coming?" "I have permitted myself to hazard a guess." "Then what do you mean to do?" "Like your majesty, my duty, modified by circumstances." "What do you mean?" "Merely that as heretofore I shall advise his majesty on the whole circumstances of the case, if and when I am consulted." "Chancellor," cried the Queen impatiently, "I have urged you to be frank. To what end is all this? I have come a long way to you, will you not make one step to meet me? Well," she continued, as the Chancellor made no reply, "I at least can be open. I ask you, do you mean to make my son refuse again?" "Really your majesty flatters me. The King will use his own discretion." "No, he will use yours. Do you think I do not know why it is that girl after girl has come hither in vain. In every way they were fitted to be his queen, and he refused even to be kind to one. It was you that made him do it. He gives not a thought to me. It is you that are all in all to him. His whole soul is but a little bit of yours. You have absorbed him, you have taken him all from me." "I assure your majesty," said the Chancellor imperturbably, "we do not ever discuss the subject together. It is entirely his own inclination that guides him." "You say that," said the Queen, with increasing agitation. "You say that, and if it is true it is worse than I thought. You have taught him, like yourself, to hate women. That is why he speaks of them as he does. But still you can undo your work. If not for my sake or for his, at least for the country's you should administer the antidote. If you have poisoned, it is you alone who can cure. See the pass we have come to. What will happen if he is not married this year? He will lose his kingdom; but that is a little thing to what I am losing. Cannot you understand what it is for me to see the ruin of my one son's life, to see his soul starving for want of a woman's love, to long unsatisfied to see his great nature ripened with a husband's and a father's joys, to hold his children on my knee, and know once more the holiest love a woman ever feels? Think, think what you do, and hold your hand before it is too late. You cannot be all stone. If you have one tender spot left give him back to me. Turbo, in the name of our old love, give him back to me!" She leaned forward towards him, her hands outstretched with a pleading gesture that was inexpressibly touching and tender. But Turbo remained immovable, save that his snarl grew more cruel. It was more than she could bear. She felt her eyes filling with tears, and she bowed her head in her hands. There was a silence between them for a minute, and then Turbo's cold voice spoke unchanged. "By what right," said he, "do you conjure me by our old love? You, who threw me away like a soiled glove." "I have no right," she murmured, without looking up. "It was a great sin, and none can know how I have suffered for it. But the crime was not his. At least you may have mercy on him." "And what right have you," he continued as coldly as ever, "to crave mercy for him? Did you show any to me? What is he to you that I was not a thousandfold? When did he ever love you more than his dogs? and I have burned for you like a fire! What devotion has he ever shown you? and I crawled to you like a slave! What has he ever sacrificed for you? and I gave more than my life for a little piece of your honour. How will you find reward for me, if to him you would give so much?" "You know not," she answered piteously, "you cannot know, what he is to me. All you say is true, yet God has made him more to me than all the world. Turbo, he is my son, my only child, and you will not understand." "Nor will you understand what I have felt," answered Turbo. "Yet I will tell you, Gretchen; try and conceive it. Think what I was when I crawled hither in your train to be a thing of loathing to every woman in the Court, and all because I had been too jealous of your honour. Think what a sweet reward of chivalry it was to lick up the crumbs you threw me to ease your tormenting conscience. I know what it cost you to invite me here. I know how you detested the sight of me. You did it as a penance, and I saw you saying, as you shuddered by me, 'God will forgive my sin, because I cast my broken meats to this Lazarus, and suffer my dogs to lick his sores.'" He paused a little, looking down on the crouching form without pity, while she shrank and sobbed with her hands before her face. "And whose silent voice was this?" he pursued. "It was my love that spoke. It was she who once had met me with a blush of mantling delight; it was she whose soft form I had clasped unresisting in my arms; it was her heart that had beaten warm and fast against mine; it was her lips that had drunk my kisses like sweet wine. You--you, who knew best how my heart could feel, what think you was in it then? But I bore it all uncomplaining, because I could not conceive of life away from you. I bore it and waited for some solace to come." "But why do you say all this?" the Queen broke in as he stopped again. "What good can it do to gall your wounds and mine like this?" "Listen, Gretchen. I will tell you all now you have driven me to begin. I say I waited for a solace to come. It was weary, hopeless work, but the solace came at last. I had won your husband's esteem. He believed the fine sentiments I always had ready for his ear. I believed them once myself. He did not see I was changed, and gave me his boy to make a man of. Then I saw in my grasp a thing to sweeten the bitterness of my life. I used to look at my charge, and see him beautiful as the daylight. I knew he would grow up a man that women would look on and love helplessly; and it was I--I, who was to make him worthy of their love! Can you not see what sweet solace there was for me there? 'They shall love him,' I said, 'they shall love him, but he shall never return their love. I will show him what they are. He shall know from his childhood what I learnt too late.' I swore they should never rejoice in the love of such a man as I would make him. I pictured them longing for him and eating their hearts. Was it not a gentle solace?" "It was revenge!" she cried bitterly; "it was unmanly revenge!" "Call it what you will," he continued; "perhaps you are right, I do not pretend to be anything but what I am. Yet I had another motive for what I did, and perhaps I am not wholly bad." "No, no, Turbo," she said eagerly, as though his words gave her a hope to clutch at. "God knows you are not that." "And yet," he went on, without interruption, "I think I am as bad as a man can be; perhaps a woman might be worse. You try to think as well of me as you can. It is only natural. I owe you no thanks for it; for it was you alone that made me what I am. It has been wisely said that no one can act from a wholly bad motive. That is all I mean. I loved the boy a little--as much indeed as I can love anything again--and perhaps I thought to save him from what I had suffered. To love a woman was my curse. Perhaps I strove a little to bless him with such a wisdom as would save him from that. That is what I have done for your son, Gretchen; and now, when I turn over the pages of my miserable life, there is at least one pleasant chapter where I may linger." She saw it was hopeless now, and rose to her feet. The one ray of light was gone again, but before she dismissed him she longed to know one thing. So she drew up her stately figure and faced him with the courage of a woman who felt she was being punished beyond her crime. He was a coward to her now. "Is that all you have to say to me, Chancellor?" she said, looking straight in his face. "It was your majesty who sought the interview," he replied. "It can end when you wish." "Is there nothing you have kept back? Have you not one blow in reserve?" He did not answer, so she went on, "I ask because you tell me that you have taught my son to look on women as the basest creatures of God. I, his mother, am the type in your eyes. Have you told him this too?" "Does your majesty insist on an answer?" "I insist on nothing. I am powerless to do so. I only thought you would not be coward enough to add this new torment to my punishment." "I am only what your majesty has made me." "Then God help us both," she said, checking an angry outburst that was on her lips. "You may retire." Her attempt had failed. It was her first thought when he was gone, as she sank into her chair again. She had failed, and only added to her load the terrible uncertainty whether her son had been told of her crime. Yet she knew she had gained something which she least expected to find. Till now she had pitied her old lover, and that had prevented her giving way to open hostility. She had stood in awe of him, too, but now it seemed different. He was a pitiless and craven bully. Why should she feel for him, who had no spark of sympathy for her? He was a thing to despise and not to fear. So when they entered to announce the supper-hour, she rose up calmly, knowing she had found a new courage for the struggle before her. CHAPTER V. MADEMOISELLE DE TRICOTRIN. "The ladies took it heavily." The excitement produced by the arrival of the Marquis de Tricotrin and his daughter at the Court of Oneiria was only to be expected. It was perfectly understood that the King must marry within the year, and it would hardly describe the situation to say that the chances of Mademoiselle de Tricotrin were discussed with greater animation than those of any previous candidate for the "crown of kisses." For her case was regarded as a certainty. But that only made the excitement to see her more intense, and, perhaps, no royal ball in Oneiria was ever so brilliantly attended as that at which the lady was to make her _début_ the day following her arrival at the capital. It was a scene that it is difficult for us even to imagine. Costume in Oneiria was as yet entirely untainted by revolutionary ideas. Rumours of the new fashions had indeed reached the country, but they had been ignored as the ridiculous affectations of low-bred fanatics. The fantastic modes of the century were in the heyday of their glory, and indeed had reached a degree of extravagance which it was natural to look for in so advanced and elegant a court as that of Kophetua XIII. In no other spot on earth perhaps could you have seen the vulgar handiwork of Nature so completely effaced as in his ballroom to-night. Under mountains of powdered curls, and forests of ribbons, in which crouched large tropical birds, the women limped on tiny, high-heeled shoes, as though their exquisite refinement could not endure the comparatively crude ideas of their Creator; every characteristic of their humanity was distorted or obliterated past all recognition with yard-long stomachers, high-peaked stays, and hoops that mocked at Heaven; and the men pursued them in every extravagance, with patch and powder and paint, with stiff full skirts and grotesque headgear, as though refinement were only to be found in effeminacy. It was a living garden of artificial flowers, where the natural blossoms on figured satins seemed to deride the unnatural bloom on disfigured faces. Still it was a brilliant kaleidoscopic scene as the rooms filled up, and coteries fell into groups to chat till the King appeared. For there was an immense deal of gossip to be got through. On the question of the hour nobody knew anything, and every one had something to tell. General Dolabella was completely invested the moment he entered the rooms, and a lisping fire was at once opened on him to compel him to surrender his authoritative information. For of course the General knew all about it. He was a minister, uniting in his own person the offices of Commander-in-chief and Director of Public Worship. It was said to have been the last act of the founder to bring together these two portfolios. He looked upon the standing army and the Church as the two great enemies of personal liberty, and it is supposed his idea was that no one man would ever be able to develop both to a dangerous degree of efficiency; or, as others conjectured, he hoped by drawing the two departments into close proximity to increase the chance of friction between them. In this the arrangement was very successful, though it certainly led to some extraordinary results. General Dolabella had held his place for many years, and was regarded successful administrator. He was a man of two sides, as he often said himself, and perhaps his success was due to that. It was undoubtedly this gift which had won him the confidence of the Kallikagathist party and placed him at its head. It had procured him, besides, advantages such as few enjoy. Though a married man, with a growing family, he was a professed misogynist. It was the tone which the King gave to the Court, and the General was nothing if not fashionable. He spoke of his marriage as an imprudence of his youth. But it did not stand in his way. His wife, of whom it must be said he stood a little in awe, was so entirely deceived by the tone of his conversation, that she never interfered with his little flirtations, and it must be confessed he had not a few. There was hardly a woman at Court whom he had not loved in his time. To an ordinary man it would have been difficult to reconcile such tastes with the character of a professed misogynist, but the dually constituted General was not an ordinary man. He from the first made it his mission to convert the women of the Court to the creed professed by the men, beginning with the prettiest as being probably the most dangerous heretics. If he had not as yet made many converts, he had succeeded in vastly amusing himself and his little friends, and it was with the satisfied smile of a popular cavalier that the General received the broadside of questions his fair besiegers delivered. "I protest, you should have declared war in proper form," said the gallant warrior, as he balanced himself on his tight satin shoes, with his elbows squeezed closely in to his pinched waist, and his white hands, half hidden in lace, toying mincingly before him with his cane. "This procedure is extremely uncanonical. Had you sent me a trumpet to blow a formal citation I should have been prepared for you. But where was ever a woman," he added, with the sweetest smile, "who would not take a mean advantage if she could?" "You are a vastly provoking man, General," said one of his oldest experiments. "You know all about them, and could tell us if you chose." "May I die," answered the Minister, "if I know more than yourselves." "But we know nothing," they cried, in excited chorus. "Well, then," said Dolabella, with an air of pity, "I suppose I must tell you what I have heard, or your poor little hearts will ache with curiosity." "Dear General!" they responded, like a choir. "You must know then, to begin with," he said, "the Marquis is an _émigré_. Some two or three years past, having imbibed the principles without the practice of the Revolution, he was obliged to leave his country. At first, it is said, he went to England, and then, on the advice of the doctors, he came to the Canaries." "But what about the daughter?" asked the ladies. "Is she a Girondist or a Jacobin, or whatever they are?" "I know no more," answered the General; "except that a long correspondence between the Queen-mother and the Spanish Governor has resulted in an invitation." "Then it is an Agathist nomination," said the ladies, prepared to make up their minds accordingly. "I really cannot say," replied the Minister, "without breach of confidence. But see, here comes his majesty. How well he looks!" Everybody turned to see the King enter the ballroom with his mother. As they passed down the room people remarked that she seemed pale and weary, but that the King never looked better. It was always an excitement to both girls and mothers to try and get a bow all to themselves on these occasions. There was a saying amongst them in Oneiria that where there is a bachelor there is hope. And, besides, whatever may have been his motives, Turbo had been entirely successful in his education of the Prince. He had grown to have a manner with women which, combined with his personal beauty and the additional advantage of a crown, was irresistible. In public it was one of extreme deference and courtesy, which, as he was never tired of hinting in the most delicately chosen phrases, arose from the duty he owed to himself, and not because the objects of his attentions in any way deserved them. But it was when alone with a woman that he shone the brightest. Then his deferential manner was spiced with a charming effrontery. It never went as far as disrespect, and yet it was so unlike his ordinary demeanour, that each delighted victim thought he reserved it for herself alone. So it came about as Turbo had promised himself, and many a girl looked eagerly that night for one kind glance before her new rival should appear. It was the subject of considerable remark that the guests of the evening had not yet arrived. The women put it down to an elaborate toilet, and consoled themselves with the prospect of something really fine, and possibly new; though there was very little chance of that, seeing how advanced and instructed the Court of Oneiria considered itself. The men said it was a mere woman's trick to make a sensation. It was not till the King had taken his seat on the daïs, and the Chamberlain had cleared before him a wide space in the rustling throng for the opening dance, that a loud voice from the top of the broad oak steps, which descended to the ballroom, announced: "The Marquis and Mademoiselle de Tricotrin." Every eye was turned to them in a moment as they came down the steps, and in another the whole assembly, oblivious of etiquette, was frankly staring at them. Such a sensation had never been known at Court before within the memory of the oldest Chamberlain. They had looked for a woman like themselves, with hoops wider, waist longer, and head-dress more extravagant, perhaps, than their own. That would not have surprised them considering that she was fresh from Europe, although they seriously doubted whether even a Frenchwoman could go further than themselves. But for this they were quite unprepared. It took away their breath. Above a beautiful face, unrouged, and without a single patch, they saw, instead of a powdered and feathered mountain, a soft mass of flowing, almost dishevelled, warm brown hair. But her dress! That was stranger still. Whatever they might have thought of the rest, this was intolerable. It was nothing but a simple robe of the softest primrose silk, which clung about her perfect figure voluptuously, and frankly expressed every graceful movement of her limbs. Close beneath her breast it was girdled by a golden cord, leaving her arms and shoulders bare. Otherwise it was unconfined, and yet so fashioned as to drape her closely in simple, natural folds. It was, in a word, the beautiful but extravagantly classic costume of the Revolution. When she saw the ordeal before her, her colour heightened, and she shrank closer to her father's arm, but she recovered directly, and advanced down the lane they instinctively made for her, with the easy complacency of one who knows she is the best dressed woman in the room. Her father looked as proud as his daughter to see their wonder. He was a tall, spare man, with an affectation of Spartan austerity in his face and dress, and he smiled contemptuously on the rouged and bepatched men about him, as with his lovely daughter on his arm he advanced towards the King. There was certainly a titter as they passed, for the wits were not to be easily cowed, and whispered smart things to their fair neighbours. The ladies, who had no wits to whisper to them, passed judgment for themselves, without, of course, forgetting that they were in the presence of a political event. "La! what a ridiculous object," said a Kallist lady, with a golden pheasant perching on her wig. "I protest it is not decent," sniffed a widow of Agathist views and a damaged reputation. "It is vastly too pronounced to be either elegant or seemly," was the opinion of a superior person's lady, with a turn for aphorism, and a Kallikagathist salon. But the only question after all was, What would the King think? On tiptoe they watched her reach the daïs, and with a perfect grace salute his hand. A few words passed between them; the King smiled as though thoroughly amused; then, to the utter confusion of the cavillers, they saw him give her his hand to open the ball, and many a sinking heart was compelled to confess to itself that Mademoiselle de Tricotrin, in her first stride, had come nearer the throne than any previous candidate in her whole course. The King was certainly delighted, and he still wore a smile of complete amusement as he took his place with her for the minuet. As the dance proceeded his delight only became more obvious. And no wonder. There are many beautiful sights under heaven, but none more beautiful than the vision which filled the eyes of the enchanted King. He had never seen a thing like that before. It was as though the very spirit of Nature had taken shape before him. In her the formal bric-à-brac postures, to which he had been accustomed, became transformed with the grace of a poising bird. From one bewitching attitude to another she seemed to float like a soft bright feather playing in a summer wind. Every movement was living with the freedom which her yielding costume allowed. With the grace of the wind-bent reeds her white arms moved in ever-flowing harmony. Now it was to draw the soft silken folds across her daintily, as with one tiny foot advanced she paused in the fitful measures of the dance; and now to raise her little hand to meet the King's with a magic motion, which seemed to waft her towards him. With each new figure the enchantment increased. In the voluptuous movement and the throb of the tinkling music she grew excited, and seemed to forget herself like a child at play. Her ripe lips were parted, her cheeks softly flushed, and her wide blue eyes were filled with an artless look of baby delight. The whole patched and powdered throng crowded round to see, as close as the hoops would allow. Soon each man and woman was as fascinated as the King. Even the voice of envy was hushed, and some one said afterwards that more than one gentleman who was regarded as a likely nomination for the Parliamentary chair was distinctly seen to smack his lips, a report perhaps which was quite unfounded, and arose merely out of the undisguised admiration depicted on every face. Yes, on every face, both of man and woman, except the one which the Marquis de Tricotrin alone in all the room was scanning narrowly. Behind the King's empty chair Turbo supported himself, watching the scene uneasily. The Marquis marked with concern and quiet determination the horrible snarl he wore. "She is dancing, step by step, step by step, right into his heart," said Turbo to himself, his words falling unconsciously in time with the fiddlers, "and the fools made a lane for her to come to the throne--like a queen. It was ominous, but I hardly thought him so unstable. The simpleton is actually taking pains with his dancing." His lips moved. M. de Tricotrin could hear nothing, but somehow he smiled quietly to himself. It was at that moment that Turbo looked up to see what the Marquis thought of it. Their eyes met, and with the readiness of old diplomatists they advanced frankly to each other. "Permit me, Marquis," said Turbo, smiling as nearly as he could, "to trespass so far on really sacred grounds as to observe that your daughter is charming." "You must positively allow me, Chancellor," said the Marquis, "to tell her what you say, at the risk of turning her head. It will be of inestimable help to her. She really knows nothing, and is quite afraid of her _gaucheries_." "Indeed," answered Turbo, "and she seemed so instructed! It only shows how rich an inheritance it is of itself to be the child of a man like you, who knows everything." "Nay, Chancellor," said the Marquis, with a bow, "you flatter me monstrously. My knowledge is not what you think, but since you so frankly declare yourself my friend, I will confess to a pretty trick of guessing many things I have no means of knowing." The dance ended, and with it their conversation. It had not been long, but for those two it was enough to bring about a mutual understanding. Each took it as a declaration of war, and began at once to look for vantage-points. Before the end of the evening the King had danced another minuet with Mademoiselle de Tricotrin. She performed with even greater grace and _abandon_ than before, and her success was complete. The ball of course was a failure. It had promised exceedingly well, but then a great misfortune had befallen it. There had been one woman present who far outshone the rest. Nothing can be much more disastrous to a ball than that. The nice women could not help feeling humbled, the others were full of envy. As for the men, they were inattentive, preoccupied, and discontented. For them it was an evening of disillusionment. Mademoiselle de Tricotrin's radiance killed the prettiest face in the room. It was impossible for them to disguise, even by the most desperate attempts at gallantry, that the whole time they were thinking of the new beauty. The women were pardonably resentful. Under these circumstances gallantry is apt to lose much of its flavour, and the number of silent couples was phenomenal. Mademoiselle de Tricotrin left early, pleading fatigue. The King followed almost immediately, and then the ball collapsed. Every one was glad to get away. For the women life was a blank till they had a gown like Mademoiselle de Tricotrin's. They had no interest in anything but how to procure one with the utmost speed. No one seemed to doubt for a moment that a complete change was to come over the Court, and the De Tricotrins were to lead the fashion. Every man with any pretensions to style went away registering a determination to suborn the Marquis's valet; and as the two strangers were carried to their lodging in the neighbourhood of the palace, perhaps there was no Oneirian so happy as the Queen-mother. "Well, my child?" said the Marquis interrogatively to his daughter, as soon as they were alone. "He is just the kind of man I expected to find," answered Mademoiselle de Tricotrin dreamily, as she leant back in her chair and clasped her hands behind her head. "Then you will manage it?" "I cannot tell, sir." "But why not? Let me tell you, my child, I am pleased with you. You never looked prettier. I am certain we shall succeed. Why, the King was simply fascinated." "Yes," she answered, a little wearily, "I know he was, but that goes a very little way with a man like him." CHAPTER VI. THE KING'S COUNCILLORS. "And now he seeks which way to proove, How he his fancie might remoove." Monsieur de Tricotrin was right. The King had been fascinated. That was clear. It was the talk of every breakfast-table in Oneiria. And Mlle de Tricotrin was right too. It made very little difference to the King, except to amuse him; but this was not so clear to the breakfast-tables. Amused Kophetua certainly was. It was highly entertaining to see how clever the little woman was. He quite laughed to himself to think how great an impression she had made on him, and he looked forward with a fresh pleasure to playing with a toy of such exquisite ingenuity, without giving a thought to the danger of the pastime. The mere fact that he was charmed he considered quite a sufficient safeguard. It was only a proof that she was a deeper cheat than the rest, and therefore more contemptible. And yet, somehow, this morning the wiles of women did not appear quite so detestable; he found himself wondering if there were not something to be said for them, when they could produce so delightful a result. He was sitting in the library pretending to transact business with Turbo and Dolabella, when his train of thought brought him for the twentieth time that morning to this same point, and with a half-unconscious desire for protection against what he knew to be a dangerous heresy, he addressed himself to his friends. "What a charming woman Mlle de Tricotrin would be," he said, "to any one who could not see through her!" The general started. He happened to have a piece of business that morning, but he was absent, and had made little progress: and now Kophetua's voice suddenly awoke him to the mortifying fact that, with a view of ascertaining the value of a living which was under his consideration, he was unconsciously looking out "Tricotrin" in the army list. Turbo did not start at all. He had been watching the King, and expecting the remark for the last hour. "Yes, she is certainly very pretty," said the General, with a confusion which was not bettered by his feeling immediately that he ought to have said something else. "That is assuredly the case, sire," said Turbo, looking hard at the disconcerted General. "It is very fortunate we can all see through women so easily." "But she is clever, isn't she, General?" said the King, with a smile of amusement. "Well, your majesty," replied the General, regaining his composure, "she might deceive more than a tiro, but to us it was evident from the first." "Ah!" said Turbo, with more than his ordinary sneer, "I knew what the General would be thinking when she shrank on her father's arm. It was very clumsy." "Positively disgusting," cried the General, with great relief. At this moment a chamberlain announced that the Marquis de Tricotrin was at the palace, and awaited General Dolabella's leisure. "I ventured last night," explained Dolabella hurriedly, "to ask him to see the gardens; we were discussing a little question of tactics which I thought we might elucidate there at our leisure." "And was his daughter coming with him?" asked the King, with affected unconcern. "That is what is so annoying," the General answered. "You see he asked if he might bring her, and what could I say? It will be hopeless to settle the point this morning." "Not at all, General," said Turbo maliciously; "you could not have a better master in tactics than Mlle de Tricotrin." "Yes," laughed the King, "you had better go at once. I excuse your further attendance." "What a child our General is!" said the King when he was gone. "Now tell me what you thought of her, Turbo. It always amuses me." So Turbo told the King what he wanted the King to think. He was never more trenchant or merciless; but the more he reviled, the more clearly there came before the King's eyes the beautiful face and the baby look it wore when she seemed to forget herself in the dance. Whether it was this, or whether it was that Turbo was more brutal than usual, it matters little, but the King was not amused. The Chancellor's coarse satire seemed particularly distasteful. He began to wish he had not started the subject. At last as he listened he noticed the founder's rapier was still lying on the table between them. That increased his discomfort. He looked up into the shadows under the morion, and then at his watch. It was time for his morning walk, and he descended by his private stair into the gardens. There was a long and trim grass alley where he was accustomed to take the air, and, plunged as he was in thought, he turned into it mechanically almost before he knew. The sound of women's voices aroused him, and he looked up to see a sight which convinced him that General Dolabella's point in tactics was likely to be thoroughly discussed that morning after all. For from the end of the alley he saw his mother and Mlle de Tricotrin approaching. They were talking, but were too far for him to hear what they said, yet not so far but that he could see that the beauty looked if possible more beautiful than last night. She was dressed in the same kind of soft high-girdled gown, in strange contrast with the Queen-mother's stiff brocades. Her face glowed with freshness like a flower, and she seemed in the King's eyes more natural than Nature itself, or at least than it was permitted to be in the gardens of the Palace. For there Nature was generously assisted, not merely with the trim clipping and rectilinear planting of our old English gardens. In Oneiria they had advanced a long way beyond the ideas which the old knight brought with him: the inorganic kingdoms had been called in to supply the poverty of the organic, and vases and statues were there without number. As though to show Nature what a mistake she had committed, the vases were made to look like shrubs and the shrubs like vases, and the long-legged statues seemed always in a gale of wind, while the trees looked as though a hurricane could not stir their rigidity. It is then little to be wondered at that Mlle de Tricotrin, in the midst of such surroundings, sustained the impression she had originally produced in the King's mind. She greeted him charmingly, so charmingly indeed, that he a little lost his presence of mind, and in trying to recover his composure he found himself kissing the Queen-mother affectionately. It was difficult to say how it happened, unless it was that she looked so happy and motherly that morning. When it was over he was sufficiently himself again to notice that Mlle de Tricotrin was gazing at him with a look of admiration he had not noticed before; and it disturbed his balance once more that she did not lower her blue eyes when he caught her looking at him, but continued to watch him from under her long dark lashes while he made her his compliments. "It is fortunate we met," said the Queen-mother, when the first few words were over. "I wanted to go in. It is too hot for me here. We were trying to find Monsieur de Tricotrin; but you can take my place now, Kophetua." Kophetua did not think it at all fortunate. In fact he was getting a little afraid of Mlle de Tricotrin. She had a disturbing effect upon him, but he could hardly refuse, especially since the Queen-mother withdrew as she spoke and left them in the alley alone. They were some time in finding the Marquis. In fact the Marquis had seen everything from a terrace behind the trees, and had no intention of allowing himself to be found too soon. So the poor General, with rueful countenance, had to listen at painful length to certain invaluable military opinions which the Marquis had acquired at second-hand. The King's conversation was certainly more pleasant. He soon regained his composure as they strolled along, and began to talk. "I am sure, sire," she said, after they had admired the garden a little, "you must be the one perfectly happy man in the world. Till yesterday," she added, with something like a sigh, "I thought there was not even one." "And why do you think I am that one, mademoiselle?" asked the King. "Because you have everything, sire." "But you forget I am a King." "No, sire. I remember it. I know kings should be the unhappiest men in the world while those they govern are so unhappy. In France a prince like you would be miserable, but it is different here where every one is so happy and none are oppressed, or poor, or wicked." "And do you think that should make me happy, mademoiselle?" "Yes, sire, I know it must. Had my ancestors handed me down a kingdom like yours, which they had purged of every evil, I should worship them every day." "And do you think that nothing more is needed--that it is enough to contemplate the happiness of my subjects?" "Yes, sire, it is the highest happiness." "Can you not think there may be something else a man may crave for, something still higher?" "Is there something else?" she said looking up at him sympathetically. He paused before he answered. He did not like the way she was drawing him immediately to tell her his inmost thoughts; yet it was so pleasant--this strange, sympathetic power of the beautiful woman at his side, who was so frank and unaffected. It was somehow like talking to a man, and yet so widely different. He knew his next reply would place them on closer terms than he had ever been with a woman before. He hesitated, and then took the plunge. "I will tell you," he said, speaking with an earnestness which surprised him, and which he could not prevent. "That something else which is highest of all is to contemplate happiness, which you have wrought yourself. What is it to me that my people are contented, rich, and unoppressed? It is not my work. I could not even make them otherwise if I tried. It is my ancestors who have done it all. Without a thought for those who were to come after they laid law to law, and ordinance to ordinance, till the whole was perfect. They tore up every weed, they smoothed down every roughness in their unthinking greed of well-doing. They strove unceasing to perfect their own nobility and gave no heed to me. See in what fetters they have bound my soul. All my life I have striven and denied myself that I might grow up a statesman in fact as well as name; that I might be a physician to my people, to detect and cure the most secret maladies that seize on nations, and stretch out my arm in such wide-reaching strokes as men see wondering, and say, 'There is a king of men.' But you are a woman," he said, suddenly dropping his inspired tone to one of no little bitterness, "and cannot understand what it is for a man to feel thus." "Indeed, indeed, I understand," she cried, "and from my heart I pity you. I know what you would say. You who rise up and feel your strength to make a garden of the wilderness and see the work is done. I know all you mean. It was what the great voice of the wind said to me, when it had borne our galleon into port so bravely and roared out through the naked spars as we lay at anchor: 'See what a power is in me, but my work is done. You give no heed to the might that is going by, and I must pass on and consume my strength without an end.'" The King looked at her in wonder. It was a woman that spoke, but they were the words of more than a man. She understood all that he meant; nay, much that he had hardly grasped before. He was more disturbed than ever, and it was with difficulty he steadied his voice to speak. "Then you can understand, mademoiselle," he said quite softly, "that I am perfectly miserable rather than perfectly happy?" "Yes, sire," she said; "but such sorrow as yours is a better thing than other men's happiness." "Yet it is none the less hard to bear." "True; but it is also the easier to change to gladness." "I do not understand; what do you mean?" "There is a remedy so simple that I hardly dare to tell your majesty. I have presumed too far in all this--yet forgive me, sire, if when I heard such words as yours, I forgot that I spoke with a king." "Nay, tell me all. I desire to know." "It is then, sire," she said, looking down almost shyly, and speaking with some hesitation,--"it is, when the great things are done, to do the little things that are left undone. It is not given to all to do deeds that sound to the ends of the earth, but there are little things that a great man may do greatly so that they shall ring in the furthest heights of heaven." "What things are those? I do not understand." "Perhaps I speak foolishly, yet I feel so strongly, that a man like you would be sure to find them if you sought." "But where--where am I to seek?" "Amongst your people. If you were to go down to them so that they might not know you, you would find wrongs to right, wrongs that are little in the eyes of man but great before Heaven. Then you would know in your heart that the greatest acts are those which are done with the loftiest purpose and by the greatest soul." "You would have me a very Haroun-al-Raschid," he said, with a laugh, for he felt that their talk was getting dangerously elevated, and he was ashamed of his weakness in letting it go so far. "And why not?" she answered, smiling, as though her mood had changed with his. "What monarch had a happier life or left a happier memory behind him? and it is for the little things that he is remembered. But I see my father," she added, "I need detain your majesty no longer." With the prettiest curtsey in the world she left him, and Kophetua returned to his apartments with his peace of mind considerably disturbed. The whole day he was the prey of the most conflicting thoughts, but above all to the humiliating conviction that he had been saying to this bewitching Frenchwoman things which he had never breathed in his life to any one but Turbo, his bosom friend. The idea she had suggested was fascinating enough. It would be very pleasant to try, and to tell her of his success afterwards; and at all events an excitement of any kind would be good for him, and serve to get her out of his mind a little. Which of these considerations weighed most with him perhaps he hardly knew himself. He made and unmade his mind fifty times before nightfall; but still it is certain that as the moon rose Trecenito found himself stealing out of the private entrance of his gardens with his hair dishevelled and unpowdered, and his person concealed with a wide slouch hat, and a voluminous cloak or burnouse which he used on his hunting expeditions. CHAPTER VII. THE LIBERTIES OF ST. LAZARUS. "He saw a beggar all in gray." It has been said already that the beggar class in Oneiria enjoyed peculiar and extensive privileges. It was a factor in the Oneirian polity, that one would hardly have expected to find, and its existence would be hard to explain were it not for a passage in a memoir, which the founder left behind him, as an exposition of the motives which led him to adopt some of the more unusual provisions of the constitution. The style is no less crabbed and tortuous than it is usual to find at the time, but it is none the less interesting as giving us a glimpse into the old knight's habit of thought. "Forasmuch," it runs, "as the riches of this world have been bestowed on us, not for each man's ease and delight, which is the seedbed of sloth and gluttony, but rather for the perfecting of our natures by charity and almsgiving, whereby we are made partakers of all Christian virtue; so at the first I was shrewdly exercised how this medicine should be furnished for men's souls in a state where none should want. The [missing word] which fears at last brought me to draw into one body all the useless and most outlandish of my people, to whom all manner of work should be forbidden, that a guild of beggars might be made, to be a receptacle for all that was imperfectable in the community, whereby, as it appeared to me, I could make such men, as were otherwise useless and noxious to the state, useful citizens in respect that they would serve as a whetstone to the virtue of the rest, and, as it were, lay up for my garden a dung-heap or midden, which though itself is stinking and full of corruption, yet being dug in in season, bringeth up a plenteous growth of most sweet flowers and wholesome herbs." The dung-heap commenced on these philosophical lines grew amazingly, and on the whole to the general health and cleanliness. Everything that had gone bad in the state drained into it by a natural process, and the resulting mass of human garbage which had collected at the time of which we are speaking thoroughly deserved the evil reputation it had earned. Yet no one thought of interfering with it. A quarter of the city and a secluded valley into which it sloped away had been assigned to the guild by the founder, and as long as it did not exceed its boundaries it was allowed to go on gathering, festering and growing. A certain number of the beggars were permitted to exercise their profession at the palace gates, otherwise it was all kept out of sight. Private people congratulated themselves on the excellent social drainage it afforded, and lived as if they did not know of its existence. They avoided the subject, gave their annual alms, and enjoyed the virtue so purchased till the time came round for laying in another stock. As for the government, it behaved in much the same way as the citizens. Every year it handed its donation from the central fund to the "Emperor" of the guild, as he was called, and suffered him to make and administer his own laws within the liberties without any inquiry or interference. It was whispered that some of these laws were of the most barbarous kind, and when people remembered what a conglomeration of nationalities, both savage and civilised, the guild represented, they, as a rule, changed the conversation, as if they were afraid to think what loathsome poisons might have been produced by the fermenting together of so much heterogeneous matter. It was only natural then that Kophetua should wend his way to the beggars' quarter. It had been instituted by the founder for the increase of virtue, and he determined to seek in the reeking dung-heap for the elements to make fertile the soul he felt so barren within him. Moreover, as soon as the idea suggested itself, he began to see very clearly that the dung-heap had grown to a great wrong that was worthy of his best efforts to put right. He even confessed to himself that he had been aware of this for a long time, but either from cowardice or indolence he had refused to allow his dreaming to stiffen into a purpose. He always dismissed the idea almost before it was conceived, and fell back again into his old colourless life with its never-changing round of banalities and affectation. With each relapse his selfishness and cynicism grew more hard. It only wanted one great effort to stir his barren soul, and one brave grapple with sin and hideousness, to make all his heroism spring up in a harvest of golden grain. He knew that well enough in his better moments, yet he dreamed the dream and awoke, and was selfish and cynical and indolent still. But now he was aroused at last. He was ashamed to think whose voice it was that had awakened him. He wished it had been any other. Still, he strode on under the shadow of the houses with a lighter heart than he had known for many years. And yet it was not without misgiving that he plunged into the liberties of St. Lazarus, as the beggars' quarter was called. It had an evil name, and his life had been so smooth that except in the chase he had never known what danger was. Strange tales were told of what had befallen men who had unwarily entered the quarter, and it was with a beating heart that he passed the great "Beggars' Gate." He was no sooner past the barrier, however, than he saw before him a sight which drove everything else from his mind. Hurrying up the street in front of him was an ungainly, limping figure, which it was impossible to mistake. That gait could be none but Turbo's. What could it mean? Where could he be going? Kophetua drew closer under the shadow of the houses and followed. Turn after turn the Chancellor took till he seemed to be seeking the very bowels of the liberty, and Kophetua began to feel it would be hard to find his way out again. Every now and then they passed a beggar, but the King only drew his hat more closely down and hurried on. At last Turbo stopped at a little door in what seemed the wall of a court or garden, and after looking round stealthily to see if he were followed he entered. Kophetua walked quickly to the door, which the Chancellor had carefully closed after him. Once there, he knew he had made no mistake, and understood at last the strange interest his Chancellor always took in the beggars at the palace gate. "Nay, my pretty lump of foulness, do not avoid me," he heard Turbo's mocking voice say; "I have found you alone this time, and you must come perforce." "Stand back! stand back!" gasped a woman's voice; "I will cry out and alarm them." "You dare not, foul sweetheart," said Turbo; "you know too well the penalty when one of you is found with one of us. Nay, do not struggle so. There's no escape to-night." There was a low choking cry of horror, and Kophetua burst open the door. At first he saw no one. He found himself in a little court behind a dilapidated house. Across the end where he stood ran a verandah in deep shadow. The noise of his entrance had hushed every sound. He could see nothing nor hear anything but his beating heart, when suddenly he was aware that a dark shadow had glided out of the verandah and had slipped by him through the door. Then in the far end he heard a low moan, and saw as he approached what seemed a heap of dirty rags lying in a corner, but he knew directly it was the lifeless form of a woman. She did not move when he touched her, so he carried her out and laid her down in the bright moonlight to see what ailed her. Very tenderly he rested her head on his knee and bent over the motionless form to feel for life in it. It was not without disgust that he did so, for it was only a beggar-girl he could see now, and she was no cleaner than her kind. Her face and hands were covered with dirt, her thick dark hair was matted and unkempt, and the rags that covered her were filthy beyond description. Yet her face looked so pale and careworn and delicate that he forgot all her foulness in his pity, and tried his best to revive her. At last she sighed deeply, and opened her eyes. They were large and dark and trustful, and they looked straight up into his with a strange wonder; so long and earnestly did she gaze at him with her far-off look, that he felt a sort of fascination coming over him, and began to think how every one said the beggars were half of them witches. It was a great relief to see a dreamy smile lighting up her wan face. She stretched up her hands to him, and then dropped them as though she was too weak or too happy for anything but to lie as she was. "Are you the great God?" she whispered, "or only an angel?" "Lie still, child, a little," he said tenderly; "I am only human like yourself." "Only a man!" she whispered with increasing wonder in her great dark eyes. "I thought I was dead and lay in God's lap. They say I shall, some day when my misery is done; but if you are a man, He will be too beautiful for me. Let me lie here a little where I am and dream again." She closed her eyes, but they seemed still to look at him. He could not forget them. It was like a spell. He could not think of anything but them, and he let her lie while he gathered his straying thoughts. "Are you better?" he asked, when she moved again. "Try and sit up. I cannot stay here long." "Ah! I remember," she said, with a shudder. "It was you who came in when he seized me, and I prayed for help, and then,--then I forget. Yes, you must go away and leave me." "But I must see you in the house first." "No, no; I cannot go in to-night. Father was angry and beat me when I came in, and said I must stay on the stones all night because I had brought nothing home. I could not help it. They pushed me when Trecenito scattered the alms at the gate, and I could get none. And yet if I stay here, perhaps the man will come back." "Do you know who it was?" "Yes, the ugly man that I saw at the palace window. He followed me here once before and tried to make me go with him. But father came out, and he ran away. Oh, he is very wicked," she said, with another shudder. "He is not like you." She lay back again peacefully on Kophetua's knee, and closed her eyes as if she would swoon again, but a noise in the house disturbed her almost directly. "It is father. Fly, fly for your life!" she cried, starting up. As she spoke, a tall beggar rushed out from the verandah with a long knife in his hand and made straight at Kophetua. The girl with a wild cry threw herself before the man and clasped his knees, crying again, "Fly, fly for your life!" and ere he well knew what he was doing, Kophetua had availed himself of the respite and was running down the street. He had not gone far, however, before he began to think what a bad beginning he was making to run away just as the danger commenced. Then those trusting eyes seemed to be looking at him again and calling him back. So he stopped, determined to return and rescue her from her father's fury. But now he was aware he had entirely lost his way. Still he would not give up his purpose, and cursing himself for his cowardice, wandered through street after street, it seemed for hours, and was then as far as ever from finding what he sought. Exhausted with his efforts, from time to time he sat down to rest and think which direction could be right. Many beggars passed him, but he dared not speak to one. Again and again he started up and walked on once more. His blood was up, and he was determined not to leave the girl to her fate. He knew life would be unendurable if he returned without redeeming his cowardice. At last, at the end of a narrow lane, he emerged into a square where was a building larger than any he had seen before, and all ablaze with light. Many beggars were going into it, and, hardly knowing why, he joined himself to one of the tattered groups and went in too. He found himself directly in a great hall surrounded by a filthy crowd. At first he could see nothing but the smoke-blackened roof and the torches that flared all round. But presently in an eddy of the throng he was carried beside a rough wooden table on which men were standing. One of them looked down, and holding out a grimy hand invited him to get up beside him. Once there, he could see all over the great chamber. All round the walls was a mass of beggars packed close on floor and forms and tables, and dressed in every tattered costume under heaven, from east to west. Arab and Jew, Frank and Berber, all were there and every hybrid between, and the lurid torchlight lit up a pile of faces as evil as sin itself. At the further end was a raised platform, supporting a great high-backed chair which was ablaze with gilding and colour lately renewed. It formed the strangest contrast to the dirt and gloom and rottenness with which it was surrounded, but even stranger was the incongruity of its occupant. For upon it sat a little brown wizened man, so old that he hardly seemed alive, except in his restless eyes. His long white hair and beard straggled thinly over him and formed his only covering, except for a filthy waist-cloth, and a chaplet of gold-pieces which served for a crown. He was not sitting in the European manner, but had drawn up his skinny brown legs on to the gilded seat, and was squatting like an Oriental. Indeed, the whole scene savoured rather of the East than the West. The architecture was Moorish, and the tawdry throne was framed in a horseshoe arch. Turbans were more numerous than any other head-dress, and the front rows of the throng squatted on the dirty floor watching unmoved the scene that was being enacted before them. Yet it was moving enough. In the midst before the throne was an open grave, newly dug in the mud floor. Beside it two men were stripping as though for a fight. As soon as they were ready they stood up knife in hand and salaamed to the Emperor, for such Kophetua knew he must be. Then came a shrill sound from the throne, like the voice of a heron, and every murmur was hushed. "Know all men," it cried, "why the High Court of St. Lazarus sits to-night. It sits for treason to the ancient guild; it sits on one who is unchaste with the Gentiles. It sits on Penelophon, daughter of Ramlak. To-night she was found in the arms of her lover who came from the city. It is sin worthy of death. It is worthy the worst of deaths. Yet Dannok her brother maintains the charge is false, and will do battle for his sister with him on whom the lot of blood has fallen, the champion of St. Lazarus." Kophetua's heart sank within him as the monotonous words fell slowly on his ear. Something told him that Penelophon must be the girl he had come to rescue; but how to do it now! With terrible anxiety he watched the combatants take their places opposite each other. Behind each of them were two others, each armed, like the champions, with long knives. It was an awful scene to one who had lived the life of Kophetua, where all that was ugly or painful had long been refined away. The heat and stench made him feel sick and weak, so that the open grave and the knives, and the brown old Emperor crouching in the gilded throne, seemed to weigh him down like a horrible dream. "Let Penelophon be brought forth to stand her trial!" The shrill voice died away again. A door opened by the daïs, there was a movement in the throng, and breathless with dread Kophetua watched to see what would come. The crowd opened, and his life seemed to freeze up with horror. He tried to cry out, but no sound came. He shut his eyes to keep out the sight; but it was useless, he could not choose but look. There, between two hideous hags, walked what seemed the corpse of the girl he had tried to save. He knew her again though she was so changed. They had washed her clean as the body that is laid out for burial; they had wrapped her in grave-clothes, and her luxuriant dark hair hung down, combed and silky, over the white shroud like a pall. Yet he knew her. That wan face, the dark, trusting eyes he could never forget. It was she whom he had tried to befriend. It was she whom he had deserted. This was the end of his first attempt. She was to die the worst of deaths. She was to be buried alive! And all depended on the skill of the stripling who was already sparring before the champion of St. Lazarus. They were long before they closed, and Kophetua watched breathlessly. Suddenly they were together and there was a flash and clink of steel, and the lad sprang back. On his shoulder was a streak of blood; but before the King had well seen it, the two men behind leaped upon the wounded boy and plunged their knives into his back. Such was the fierce law of combat in the liberties of St. Lazarus. The first blood showed the right, and death was the portion of him who fought for the wrong. It was over, and Penelophon must die. Without ceremony the seconds seized her brother's naked body and threw it into the open grave. Then the two hags began to drag their charge to it in her turn. She looked round wildly, her eyes staring with terror. Kophetua, in his intense anxiety, had worked himself to the front; and their eyes met. She started, and her horror changed to the look of wonder he had seen when first her eyes opened and gazed into his. He knew she was thinking her guardian angel was come again. It was more than he could bear. Forgetting everything, he leaped down into the open space, tore her from the hags, and stood with the shroud-clad figure in his arms, bidding her fear nothing. "It is the Gentile lover," proclaimed the same monotonous cry of the shrivelled Emperor. "He has come to lie in the same grave with his shameless love. Seize him, and make ready!" "You dare not!" cried Kophetua, as he threw back his cloak and hat. "Stand back! See! It is I, Kophetua the King." There was a murmur of "Trecenito" through the throng, and the men who were come to obey the Emperor's orders fell back. "We know no king in the liberties but the Emperor," droned the old man, quite undisturbed. "Seize him, and prepare him for the grave!" "Stand back!" cried poor Kophetua, "you dare not lay hands on me. Think what your fates will be when my people hear of it." "They will never hear of it," chanted the Emperor. "No one saw you come hither." "Yes, Turbo, my Chancellor, saw me," cried the King, growing alarmed. "And he wishes your death, that he may reign in your stead," the voice droned on without a change of note. "Seize them, and put them together in Limbo for a foretaste of the narrower chamber that is to come, while the grave-clothes are prepared and another grave is dug; for now the dead shall lie alone. Away with them now, and fear not. The Emperor is greater than the King, and Sultan Death than both." He ended in a shrill scream of mocking laughter, while Kophetua was seized and hurried along, powerless to resist. While the devilish merriment still rang out they thrust him in at the door whence the beggar-maid had been brought. Her they pushed in after him, and the door closed with a hollow clang. As soon as Kophetua could collect his thoughts sufficiently to look about him, he found himself shut in a narrow chamber, in every way adapted for a prison. One small window, about his own height from the ground, was the only outlet to the open air, and it was heavily barred. The moonlight streamed through it and poured a flood of silvery light about a stone bench in a recess on the opposite side. There his eyes rested at last immovably; for there sat the beggar-maid swathed in her shroud, and shining so white and ghostly in the moonbeams that she seemed no living thing. She sat upright, gazing before her with her wondering eyes as though she only half understood what had happened. And Kophetua wondered too--wondered to see how beautiful she was now her foulness was washed away. He knew the face well; where had he seen it? It must have been in his dreams. So he stood in the deep shadow watching and wondering and listening to the click of the spade and mattock, as the beggars dug the grave he was to share with the living corpse before him. It was indeed, as the Emperor had said, a foretaste of the tomb. Presently she turned her dark gaze on him. It was terrible to see the death-like thing looking at him, and he shuddered, but her soft voice reassured him. "I knew my angel would come down and save me again," she murmured. "When will you take me away? I am ready to go now; Dannok is dead, and I have no one left." Poor child! he dared not speak and break her dream. He only watched her still, and then it flashed on him what face it was. It was in the old picture in his library he had seen it, the same wan delicate features, the same black hair waving so smooth and even over the snowy forehead. He had often wondered how a painter could have chosen such a face to fascinate a king. Now he saw it in the flesh he wondered no longer, but gazed his fill, and listened to the click of the grave-diggers. "Must we wait very long?" murmured the beggar-maid again. "I am very weary, and crave for rest." "My child, my child!" cried Kophetua, unable any longer to restrain himself, "I cannot save you. It is I that have ruined you, and we are going to lie side by side in the same dark grave." As he spoke he went to her, and in spite of his half-superstitious awe of the ghostly figure he took her in his arms, as though he would kiss away the new horror from her face; but he started back immediately, pale as herself. The click of spade and mattock had ceased, heavy footsteps sounded at the door, and the key rattled in the lock. CHAPTER VIII. ESCAPE, BUT NOT LIBERTY. "The which did cause his paine." The door did not open at once, and Kophetua stood with his arm about his ghostly companion listening to the muttered curses of the men without. There seemed to be something amiss with the lock. Fiercely they rattled the key, and every moment the prisoners expected to hear the bolt fly back. "See, see," whispered Penelophon, suddenly pointing to the window, "I knew you would save me; why did you frighten me so?" Kophetua looked up, and saw a stout pole had been thrust in between the bars of the window-grating, and that some one was using it as a lever to try and tear them out. "Leap out both," cried a low disguised voice outside, "the moment it gives." The pole strained again and the key grated; and now the shrill voice of the shrivelled Emperor could be heard screaming from his gilded throne and bidding his men make haste. The bars groaned and bent, but they were still tough, and would not give. The lock rattled each moment more savagely; the scream of the Emperor grew more angry; the suspense was becoming almost unendurable, when, with a sudden crash, the whole window-grating fell outwards. There was a sound of feet hurrying away, and then all was silent without. But now a heavy hammer was clanging with deafening noise upon the broken lock, and between each stroke rose the scream of the frenzied monarch, so piercing that it seemed to Kophetua to half paralyse him, as he grasped the window-sill and strove to draw himself up. It was a desperate struggle, for he was unused to such exercise; but it was done at last, and he sat astride the stone sill, and held out his hands to Penelophon. She seemed quite calm, and looked up in his face trustfully, as he in a fever of excitement began to pull her up. Two hammers were now banging rhythmically on the door, and the din of their ponderous blows was almost incessant, and yet the awful scream of anger was not drowned. But the tough old lock still held; and it was not till Kophetua, more dead than alive, had dropped to the ground, and had caught the beggar-maid in his arms, that the clangour ceased in a deafening crash, and they knew that the door was burst. They did not stop to hear more. As soon as the gaolers dare tell their frantic monarch of the escape the pursuit would begin. No sooner indeed did her feet touch the ground than Penelophon seized the King's hand, and began running down a labyrinth of tortuous passages as fast as the clinging grave-clothes would allow. The King was hardly less agitated than before. They could hear the shout of the beggars as the pursuit began; but in five minutes all was over, and the King and the beggar-maid ran out hand-in-hand through the great gate by which he had entered. Still they did not stop. Kophetua could not feel sure after what he had seen of their power and numbers that the beggars would not carry the pursuit beyond the limits of the liberty. So he hurried on still without resting till he had let himself in at the private entrance to the palace gardens. Once inside he threw himself on a bench, exhausted with fatigue and excitement, and the beggar-maid sank at his feet. The adventure was over, and he would think quietly what was next to be done. The thought seemed hardly framed when Kophetua awoke to the consciousness that he had been asleep. How long he knew not. The dawn was just beginning to glimmer as he opened his eyes, and he started up terror-stricken to see a corpse stretched at his feet. Then he remembered it all, and began to realise his position. It was certainly sufficiently embarrassing. He, the King of Oneiria, was sitting in his own garden with a beggar-maid, dressed like a corpse, in his charge. What was he to do with her? She too had fallen asleep, and was lying outstretched upon her back like an effigy on a tomb. Her arms lay listlessly, with palms upturned, just as they had dropped on either side of her. Her head was resting on the roots of a tree, and was turned gently towards him. Out of the dark masses of her hair, which lay littered over the white grave-clothes, her face glimmered wan and pale in the ashen light. So still and peaceful and deathlike was the picture that, save for the gentle breathing, it might indeed have been the sleep that knows no waking. He sat with his chin in his hand looking at her. Yes, she was very beautiful. Those features were cast in the same exquisite mould which in the picture had seemed to him to tell of nothing but inanity, but now he saw it in the flesh it spoke of that divine purity, strength, and tenderness which the angels are given. It was a beauty of holiness that seemed to sanctify him as he gazed. He felt himself ennobled that he could distinguish it. But where could he take her? Assuredly most men would call that face from which all sensuality and the earthly parts of beauty had been refined away inane. They were too gross to see what real beauty was. General Dolabella would certainly call it inane. General Dolabella! that was an idea. General Dolabella was certainly the only person of his acquaintance to whom he felt it was possible for him to bring a young girl dressed in grave-clothes, the first thing in the morning, and ask him to take care of her. In the reaction which his rest had brought about he began to feel ashamed of his quixotic enterprise, and to see his position in the ridiculous light. He fancied what the wits would say if they heard of it, what smart things would be current at his expense; and he laughed cynically at himself that he of all men should have been deluded into an attempt to resuscitate so dead and false a thing as chivalry. Just then Penelophon cried out in her sleep, and awoke with a restless start. Her eyes opened, she seized the shroud convulsively in her hands to look closely at it, and then, with a choking cry of horror, covered her face and fell back. Kophetua was on his knees at her side in a moment. He took her hands from her eyes, and tried to comfort her. "Look up, Penelophon," said he, very tenderly. "It was only a dream." "Where am I?" she cried wildly. "It was so dark and cold in the grave when they covered me up. Ah!" she went on, with the same trusting look coming back as at first, "I remember, they did not bury me. You saved me. Shall I go with you now?" She stretched her arms to him, and he lifted her up. She was very cold, and so was he; but he took off his cloak and tried to repress a shiver as he wrapped it about her and drew the hood over her head. "Yes, if you can," he said; "I want to put you where kind people will keep you safe." She staggered when she tried to walk, being still weak with the shock she had had, and stiff with cold; so he put his arm about her, and supported her towards the gate which led from the opposite side of the gardens into General Dolabella's official residence. The servants were just astir, and there was little difficulty in getting in, when Kophetua explained that he must see the Minister at once on urgent business of state. It is true they hardly knew what to make of the King's sudden appearance, with his haggard face and dishevelled and unpowdered hair; but his manner was so sharp and peremptory that they were too glad to show him and his charge to the Minister's private room with all possible speed, and it was not many minutes more before the General himself hurried in in his nightcap and flowered dressing-gown. "God preserve us, sire!" said he, starting back to see the haggard spectacle the King presented after the horrors he had gone through, "what has happened? It is most alarming. Let me send at once for the Adjutant-General or the Archbishop! Which department is it?" "Calm yourself, my dear General," said the King a little nervously; "it is nothing of any consequence--at least, that is, not at present. Later in the day I will see you with the Adjutant-General. Now I merely wish you to take charge of a person, whom I have saved--it matters not how--from a very awkward position. I wished for secrecy and fidelity, and, above all, no idle curiosity, so I came to you." "Your majesty does me a great honour," said the General, with a profound bow. "I presume this is the gentleman beside you. I need hardly say I shall be proud to offer him an asylum as long as it can be of any service to him or your majesty." Penelophon was still wrapped in the burnouse, and in the dim morning light it was impossible to see her plainly. The mistake only made the King more nervous still. He had hoped the explanation was over, and now he had to begin again. "That is like your kind heart," he answered, with some hesitation. "But it is only right to tell you, you are mistaken in thinking this is a gentleman." "Oh!" said the General, with a very wise nodding of his head, "it is a lady we have rescued. Now I understand the case." "Pardon me, General," said the King testily, "but you understand nothing of the kind. It is not a lady at all. It is a beggar-maid." "Forgive me, sire," answered the General, with some dignity. "I could hardly have been expected to have grasped the situation. It is a delicate office for a married man; but your majesty knows my devotion, and of course I will conceal her, as well as I can, till you can otherwise bestow her." "But that is not what I want," said the King, growing more and more vexed. "Don't you see? It is an unfortunate girl I have rescued from the most atrocious cruelty. She needs protection, and I desire that your wife shall take her into her service." "Really, your majesty," cried the General, in great perturbation, "it is--well, not impossible; that is a word I will not allow myself to use in a question of serving your majesty. But consider what my wife--I mean, consider what it is to request the Director of Public Worship to introduce such a person into the bosom of his family." "General Dolabella," replied the King coldly, "you do not believe me. You permit yourself to doubt the word of your sovereign. Very well, I will convince you that what I say is true, and that this poor girl is without reproach." With a vague idea that he would at once make the General grasp the whole case, he stepped to Penelophon and drew off the burnouse that covered her, leaving her standing motionless and deathlike in her clinging grave-clothes and dark pall of hair, a pale and ghastly figure in the sickly morning light. The effect upon the Minister was startling. He sank back thunderstruck into the chair behind him. His jaw dropped, his eyes stared wildly, and beads of perspiration came out on his forehead. "Excuse me, sire," he said faintly, when he was a little recovered. "You see I am a little shocked. I was not prepared to see the lady in fancy dress. It is very pretty; but I confess I was not quite prepared for it. I shall be better directly." "I am sorry to alarm you," said the King, "but pray oblige me by not referring to this poor girl as a lady again. You see the story I have told you is obviously true. It is strange, but I cannot just now go into details of how she came to be in this costume, which I admit is unusual. At present all I ask from you is very simple. Procure her a suitable dress from one of your own women servants, introduce her to your wife as a young person who has been highly recommended to you as a desirable maid for her, of course without mentioning my name. She cannot refuse, and all I ask is done." "But, your majesty," pleaded the poor General, "you hardly appreciate--my wife--I mean our domestic relations, particularly at this moment,--I assure your majesty it is a most delicate application you ask me to make, and one capable of painful misinterpretation." "Very well," said the King sharply; "I understand you to refuse my request. I regret my confidence was so misplaced. Hitherto I had not doubted your devotion." "But, your majesty----" began Dolabella. "Silence, sir," said Kophetua sharply. "Enough has been said. With pain--with considerable pain I must put you to the trouble of receiving my orders as High Constable of the kingdom." It was a sinecure office the General enjoyed as Commander-in-chief. He stood up at once and saluted, trying to look in his night-cap and flowered dressing-gown as constable-like as under the circumstances was attainable. "I place this woman under arrest to you," continued the King. "You will keep her in solitary confinement, so far as is consistent with her kind treatment. Above all, you will let no one see her, and you will produce her person when called upon. Kindly draft a warrant, and I will sign it at once. I believe my orders are plain?" he added, as the High Constable hesitated. "Perfectly," moaned Dolabella lugubriously, and sat down to write. Meanwhile Penelophon, who at last was beginning dimly to grasp that her angel was really Trecenito himself, was gazing from one to the other in hopeless wonder without speaking. The warrant was done. Kophetua signed it, drew his burnouse about him, and left the room without another word. Penelophon looked after him wistfully, and then sat down and began to cry. "I am very sorry, sir," she said, "to be here, if you do not want me." "There, there! my dear," said the soft-hearted General petulantly. "There is no need to cry. It is no fault of yours. Only you place me in a very painful position. You cannot understand, because you do not know Madame Dolabella. She is a most charming motherly person, but unhappily a woman to whom it will be an extremely delicate task to explain why I, a father of a family, am holding a _tête-à-tête_ in my study the first thing in the morning with a corpse--or what is a corpse to all intents and purposes, only worse. She is not so used to that kind of thing as some people. I must get you a more decent dress at once, and some breakfast. You look very hungry." And therewith the General gathered the skirts of his flowered dressing-gown around him and shuffled off in his slippers, carefully locking the door behind him. Kophetua reached his apartments in no enviable frame of mind. He was angry with the General and angry with himself. He felt it was a piece of cowardice to compel his Minister to undertake a duty he was afraid of himself. He was determined to provide for Penelophon elsewhere as soon as possible. But how was it to be done? If General Dolabella would not accept his assurance of the girl's innocence and danger, who would? It was impossible to explain the case to any one. To begin with, he was heartily ashamed of the whole adventure, and then such heavy considerations of state were involved in it. It must entail, in the first place, the unpleasant confession that he was not King in his own dominions. The beggars had been suffered to grow into an uncontrollable power; and, until he could concert measures with the general staff for the concentration of a considerable force in the capital, it was clear that the subject must not be mentioned, especially as there was the further complication of Turbo, and the extraordinary part he had played in the matter. It was absolutely necessary to know what position the Chancellor would take before any move could be made; and how he was to arrive at that Kophetua could not for the life of him think. It was certainly a situation, and one which would require all his statesmanship to deal with. At last, he admitted, he was face to face with a difficulty of the kind he had longed for all his life. He was aware of a great danger, a great wrong in the state which must be remedied; yet, so he argued to himself, it was impossible to enjoy the position because it was so mixed up with ridiculous personal considerations. Had it only been a plain question of politics, he felt he would have been equal to it, and would have rejoiced in grappling with its difficulties. As it was, he would have given anything if he had only stayed at home that night; and as he cast himself exhausted on his bed for a little rest, there was no one he hated so much as beautiful Mlle de Tricotrin, who had been clever enough to wheedle him into making such a fool of himself for the mere pleasure of winning her good opinion. Whatever happened, he determined she should not know he had been weak enough to act on the advice he had allowed her to give, and so afford her a still better hold on him than she had already obtained by his stupid confidences. CHAPTER IX. IN THE QUEEN'S GARDEN. "What sudden chance is this? quoth he, That I to love must subject be, * * * * But still did it defie." In the afternoon following the morning of Kophetua's adventure the Queen-mother was sitting in her little garden pavilion, and at her feet was curled Mlle de Tricotrin reading to her in the prettiest of soft white gowns, and the prettiest of natural attitudes. It was a strange little building, which the Queen had christened the Temple of Sensibility. It was perhaps more like a Greek temple than most things, but more strictly speaking it belonged to that style of architecture which reached its culmination in the valentines and burial cards of fifty years ago. The Queen was very fond of it. It stood in a quiet corner of that part of the palace gardens which was set apart for her private use, and she had lavished considerable thought and taste in the interior decoration. The walls were covered with vast architectural perspectives produced almost to infinity, so that the little place seemed to be the focus on which all the draughts of a vast and airy hall were concentrated, and at various points fat little Cupids were apparently trying to anchor themselves to the columns by wreaths of roses, as though in fear of being blown out of the composition. The effect was cool, but not cosy; yet the Queen was very fond of it, and had brought Mlle de Tricotrin thither with the air of one who has a great favour to bestow. They were already fast friends. The Queen-mother was of an affectionate nature, and was starving for an object on which her affection could feed. As has been said, she was thoroughly German, and shared the characteristics of the educated and refined German lady of her time. It was a mixture we seldom see nowadays. On one side she was homely and practical, on the other highly imaginative and dreamy. She cannot perhaps be better expressed than in terms of her tastes. The Queen-mother had a passion for needlework and transcendental philosophy. Oddly enough, Mlle de Tricotrin had quite a pretty taste in them too. At her new friend's first entry into the ballroom the Queen had certainly been a little shocked. It was impossible not to regard her costume as a little immodest; but when she began to dance, and Margaret saw how pretty and childish and unaffected she was, and how, above all, she seemed to charm the stony heart of the King, she began to recognise in Mlle de Tricotrin the simple, well-brought-up, and beautiful girl of whom she had heard so hopefully from the Governor of the Canaries. A very few words which passed between the two women the night of the ball and on the following morning had been enough to bring the heart-sick woman under the spell as much as anybody else. The result was an invitation and the present visit to the Temple of Sensibility. Mlle de Tricotrin admired the embroidery, and asked if she could help. Beside the Queen-mother's chair stood a large grinning monster from China, blue and hideous. He was a great pet of Margaret's, and she showed her affection by using him as a book-rest. Mlle de Tricotrin saw a volume of German philosophy resting on his paws, and began to express her admiration of the author in terms that would be for our ears a little high-flown and sentimental. Thus in a very few minutes the impression she had already created was more than confirmed. With new-born happiness the Queen accepted her offer to read, and now as she worked and listened to the musical voice, she was entranced as much by the sound as the sense that filled her ears. "Ah," said the Queen, as the reader paused after a passage of great beauty, "why must material bodies so clog our spirit that it cannot rise to the places which these great men point out to us?" "But indeed it can, madam," said the beauty. "I do not remember my soul's prison when I read such words as these. I forget all that is tainted with matter, and seem to float up and down in the highest empyrean, with the bright spirits that are wafted by on the breath of the song the angels sing." "Then indeed you are blessed," the Queen answered; "but such freedom can never be mine. I am chained by a sin to the body of death, and may not melt into the eternal till my fetters are broken. But you have never lost the freedom which purity alone can give. And yet," she continued, smiling sadly, and laying her hand on the girl's soft heap of hair, "I wonder your soul likes to leave the dwelling-place which God has made so fair for it. You are very, very pretty, my child!" Mlle de Tricotrin looked up in the Queen's face. The sad eyes were moist with tears, and were looking down at her so lovingly that she could not help taking in hers the thin hand that had been caressing her, and kissing it reverently. "Ah! madam," she said, so earnestly and sadly that the Queen was quite surprised at the change of her tones, "what might I have been if I had had a mother like you to guide me! but my mother died before I can remember." "That is a hard thing for a girl," answered the Queen, "and you have fought your way alone bravely. Yes, it is hard, but is not my lot harder still? What might my lonely life have been with a daughter like you to warm and brighten it? But I have no child--I have no child." "But you have the King!" "No, he is not mine. He is hard and cold, and thinks of nothing but himself." "Indeed your majesty does him wrong," cried Mlle de Tricotrin eagerly. "He is not what you say. He spoke so differently to me when--when we were alone in the garden." The last words she said with some hesitation and in a low sweet voice, and, looking down, pretended to arrange the folds of her soft gown with the prettiest embarrassment as she went on, "He told me of his lofty aspirations, how he longed to do some great thing for his people, how miserable he was at the hollow life he led--O madam! believe me, he has a noble heart." "And he told all this to you?" said the Queen, between surprise and delight. "Yes, and much more," answered her companion, looking up with a frank, innocent look which seemed ignorant of how much her words meant. So frank and innocent indeed were her eyes, that for a moment Margaret doubted. She put her hands on the soft hair once more, and gazed steadfastly upon the lovely face that was upturned to her; it was a look which searched deep, it was a look hard to be borne, till the sad eyes of the widow grew dim with tears. Then the Queen-mother bent down and kissed Mlle de Tricotrin very, very tenderly. Their further conversation was interrupted by an attendant announcing that the King was without, and desired to know whether the Queen could receive him. It was a very long time since the poor mother had had such a request made to her by her son. So great a coldness had gradually grown up between them that they hardly ever met except on public occasions. They had come so entirely to misunderstand each other that private interviews between them at last became so constrained as to be quite painful to both. It was then with a flush of surprise and pleasure that she ordered him to be admitted at once, and some impulse or other which she did not stop to analyse prompted her to press Mlle de Tricotrin's hand affectionately as they rose to receive the visitor. "Good day, madam," said Kophetua, with a shade of annoyance passing over his handsome face at the sight of Mlle de Tricotrin. "I had thought to find you alone!" "Shall Mlle de Tricotrin retire?" asked the Queen. It was impossible to hesitate. He would have liked to say "Yes," but that would seem to give a mystery to his errand, which was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Besides, it would seem rude, and then she really looked very sweet in her soft white gown and tangled brown hair. So he bowed profoundly, and begged that Mlle de Tricotrin would do him the honour of remaining. "Are you not well, Kophetua?" asked the Queen anxiously. "You look pale and tired; have you not slept?" "I thank you, madam, I am in perfect health," answered the King shortly. It was always the poor Queen's fate to say the very thing that of all others was calculated to irritate him, and, anxious as he was to hide all traces of his last night's exploit, he on this occasion had great difficulty in not showing his annoyance. In order to succeed, he found himself making a more elaborate compliment to Mlle de Tricotrin than was necessary, and the bright look of pleasure she gave him in return only increased his vexation. "Mlle de Tricotrin has been reading some beautiful things to me," said the Queen, with a well-meant attempt to turn the conversation into a channel which she believed was agreeable to both. "I find her quite a profound philosopher." "Indeed," answered the King in no better humour, as the conviction forced itself upon him that Mlle de Tricotrin was besieging his mother as an outwork of the throne. "Ladies so arm themselves with wisdom nowadays that men are driven to the end of their wits to know how to resist them, and you make me fear, madam, that I come in a very high-flown hour to prefer a humble request I have." "Nay, Kophetua," replied the Queen, "you know I consider no hour ill-timed for a mother to help her son. What is it I shall do for you?" "It is a very little matter, madam," the King began, with some nervousness. "It is only that I wish you to take into your household an unfortunate girl who has been highly commended to my care. It matters not how low the office." He could not help glancing at Mlle de Tricotrin to see how she took the words. He found her looking at him with a look of entranced admiration, which at that moment was peculiarly annoying. For an instant he thought she had taken in the whole situation at once. "That is very easily done," said the Queen. "What can she do? Where did she come from?" "That I cannot tell you," answered the King. "But do you not know?" "Yes, madam; but there are reasons why I cannot tell you," said the King, for he was now more determined than ever that Mlle de Tricotrin should not know how he had been influenced by her conversation. "It is a strange request to make," said the Queen, a little coldly. "May I know nothing before I grant it?" "She is a beggar-maid, madam, whom I have undertaken to protect; I beg you to ask no more." "It is well, sir, perhaps, that I should not," returned the Queen, drawing herself up with all the pride of her ancient family. "It is a long time since a daughter of our house was served by beggars." "But why not, madam, why not?" said the King warmly. "Where will you find truer nature, and, therefore, truer nobility, than there? It is they whom the noonday burns and who shiver in the night; it is they who hunger and thirst and want; it is they who know the only true joys, the joys that have risen out of misery; it is they who alone are pure, who have touched pitch and are not defiled. What are we beside them, with our empty, easy, untried lives? How can nobility grow out of such pettinesses as are our highest employments? No! there, out of doors, where men and women that groan and suffer, and shout for joy when it is done, that hate and love like the strong beasts of the desert, that curse when they are angered and smile only when they are pleased, there where these are ground together in the roaring mill of good and evil, there you shall seek and find the little nobleness that is left in our effete humanity." "And is it the white flour you bring me from your dusty mill?" said the Queen haughtily. "How am I to tell it is not the husk that is only fit for swine?" "Madam," cried the King loftily, "I swear to you--is that not enough?--I swear to you she is pure as snow; I swear that of all women----" "Stay, sir," said the Queen, with suppressed anger. "'Tis only as I thought; but I beg you to remember where you are and to whom you speak. A mighty fine thing, sir, a vastly fine thing for a son to ask of the mother he hardly deigns to own. You have reasons, have you, why you may not say who this lady is? There is no need. I know them well enough. It is vastly fine, sir. Kophetua the King, Kophetua, the thirteenth of his name, shall go and rake in any filthy hole for his toys, and bring them to his father's wife to hide in her bosom. It is vastly fine, sir, but you know not my father's daughter, and have forgotten yourself." "Madam, you do me wrong!" cried Kophetua passionately. "Before Heaven, you do me wrong!" "Peace! peace!" cried the Queen, "lest Heaven blast you. I know you well. It is useless to speak so fine. I know you for the son you are. See what it is you do, and pray forgiveness of Heaven. That were the best. You, my son, my one son, who have been my only thought, while I grew grey with thinking; you who have cast me off to be the puppet of a man your father raised from the very ground; it is you who sat and took your pleasure while I grew grey and grieved for the love you had denied me! But I waited through the long years alone, saying, 'Surely when my punishment is ended, God will send him back, and in his arms the sweet fruits of love and repentance!' and now, to-day, you came at last, and I thought the days of my mourning were over. I held out my hands for the rich gift of your love that should sweeten the last bitter drops in my cup--weary and sick with longing I hold them out, and you would put into them your--your----" she sank in her chair, unable to say the word, and, burying her head in her arms upon the grinning monster, sobbed out hysterically, "'Tis vastly fine, 'tis vastly fine!" But Kophetua neither heard nor saw. At the climax of her speech he had turned on his heel and left the room, lest he should be tempted to return her anger with anger. His pride was as high as his mother's, and it came to his aid, just as it had come to hers in her interview with Turbo. So he drew himself up and slowly left the pavilion, proud that with all his temptations his life was yet without the reproach his mother had flung at him, and proud that, deep as the insult was, he was too chivalrous even to resent it, seeing that it came from a woman. But he was cut to the heart nevertheless. With a great effort he had resolved to come to his mother for sympathy and help in his trouble. It was she, he felt, who alone would understand, or if she would not, then it was hopeless, and he knew not which way to turn. It had cost him much to make up his mind to try and fill the gulf that was between them, but he had humbled himself at last. He had come to her feet, and she had cast him off with insults. She had utterly misunderstood him. The breach, instead of being mended, was widened tenfold, and for ever he must be alone. With such thoughts he strode from the pavilion, and took his way out of the garden, with the noble and resolute look which came over him in his better moments, and which became him so well. As he turned from the main alley into a sidewalk thickly edged with grotesque cactus, the soft sound of a voice stopped his measured stride. He looked to see Mlle de Tricotrin before him in the way, kneeling in her soft white dress. "Pardon!" she said very softly, "I crave your majesty's pardon." At that moment, of all others, he would have avoided her if it had been possible, but she was straight in his path, and then as she rested on one knee and looked imploringly upon his face, her beauty was such that in any case he could hardly have passed her by. "It was not my fault," she continued, "that I heard what I did. You desired me to remain, and I left as soon as I saw the mistake her majesty made." "It is a little fault," answered he, "to crave pardon for on your knees." "But it is not all I ask," she cried; "I am here to beg a greater favour. O sire! I cannot but say it, my heart bleeds for you. I understand it all. It is a terrible thing to be judged so falsely by those we have striven hardest to please. It is a poor reward for what you have done. I understand it all, and beg you will let me take care of her." "But, mademoiselle, how can I claim such a service at your hands? It is impossible." "It is not a service I do you," she answered. "I have no chamber-woman. She feared to follow me here. So let me have this girl whom you have saved, and I will treat her as a sister." It was perhaps the last escape that he would have wished from his difficulty. It was really too vexatious that he should be forced to let this woman add an obligation to the other snares she was weaving round him. Yet it was the only way he could see, and he could not deny he was touched by her kindness. So he gave her his hand and raised her from where she kneeled. "You have a kind heart, mademoiselle," he said. "She shall come to you to-night." It was impossible not to put to his lips the little hand he held. Mere courtesy demanded it. He was conscious of a strange thrill as he did so, and passed on to his apartments in the perilous state of an injured man who recognises that a certain beautiful woman is the only person in the world who understands him. CHAPTER X. THE FALL OF TURBO. "The blinded boy, that shootes so trim, From heaven downe did hie; He drew a dart and shot at him, In place where he did lye." Kophetua may have been in many respects a weak man, but he was not a man to sit down tamely under the affront which the beggars had put upon him. As he told General Dolabella, it had been his intention to summon the head-quarter staff that very afternoon in order to concert measures for the forcible punishment of his treasonable subjects. In the course of the morning, however, his ardour had a little cooled. His sleep had removed his excitement, and the more he contemplated his adventure, the more ashamed he was of it, and he made up his mind to defer broaching the subject for a few days. Not that he abandoned his determination to cleanse his Augean stables. It was only that he was resolved to let no one know of his adventure. He feared that the display of a sudden anxiety to consider the question could only lead to unpleasant inquiries and surmises. He did not therefore summon the staff. He made up his mind it would be better to approach the subject as an ordinary question of the interior, and give notice that the condition of the Liberties of St. Lazarus would be considered at the next monthly council, which would be held in about ten days' time in ordinary course. But even this plain way was not without its embarrassment, and it was a particularly painful one for Kophetua. In a word, the obstacle was Turbo. Turbo was Chancellor, and, as Chancellor, was President of the Council. It was through him that all summonses and notices had to go. If the King wished to have the Liberties of St. Lazarus placed upon the orders of the day, it was Turbo whom he must tell to do it, and Turbo was the very last person in the world that he wanted to address on the subject. So acutely did he feel the difficulty of his position, and so carefully did Turbo avoid him, that two days had passed since Penelophon was installed in Mlle de Tricotrin's service before the question was mentioned between them. When the dreaded interview did take place, it was in no way due to Kophetua's resolution. It was now the third day since his adventure, and the last on which notices of business were usually sent to the Council. Kophetua was in no pleasant frame of mind, for he knew that Turbo would come that very morning for instructions as to the orders of the day. In vain he tried to forget his trouble. In vain he adopted his usual expedient, which, till recently, had been so successful with him. He deliberately sat and tried to conjure up the prettiest face he knew. Of course it was Mlle de Tricotrin's. It was a pleasant amusement to picture before his eyes her lovely form and face, with its ripe beauty, the glowing carnation that mantled so soft and pure in her rounded cheeks like life made visible, the rich purple that gleamed like a gem under the long dark eyelashes, the tempting lips that seemed made as a playground for kisses, and the tangled setting of gold and bronze that softened and enriched the whole. Yes, it was a sport pleasant enough to make a man forget the ugliest things. Many times in the last two days had Kophetua set himself to it, but it brought him little comfort. The pretty phantom would no longer come at his light call. It wanted a serious effort of will to conjure it, and then when he knew it had risen, and he set himself to enjoy a quiet contemplation of it, lo! it was changed, and in its place stood a spectre, wan and pale and of delicate mould, with a robe of thick dark hair, and eyes darker still. Sometimes it was foul and ragged, and sometimes it was like a corpse, but always it had the same trusting dog-like look he knew so well, and always with a sense of strange distress he exorcised it. It was the spirit of the woman who had risked her life for his, of the woman whom he had saved from a horrible death. It was the ghost of his better self that was haunting him in the shape of that lowly child of nature. It would never do to think of it so. It must be crushed and smothered and forgotten. So each time it rose he cried his _Apagé_ against it, and fell to his trouble again. It was thus he was sitting now, when Turbo was announced for his usual audience. "I am merely here with the Council summonses," said Turbo carelessly, after he had been admitted and had made his formal civilities. "I presume your majesty has nothing to put on the orders of the day?" "Yes, Chancellor, I have," answered the King, as carelessly as he could. "There is a matter of importance which I have for some time wished to consider, and which cannot be deferred much longer with safety to the state." "Indeed!" said the Chancellor, with affected surprise. "I was not aware of anything so serious and sudden." "It is not sudden," replied the King, with some sharpness, "I have told you that. It is a matter that has been long in my mind, and in every one else's, but no one has had the courage to speak the first word. Sit down, and be at the pains of writing, while I dictate the form of my notice." "Shall I bring my papers to this end of the room?" asked the Chancellor maliciously. "No," cried the King in great vexation, "I will go to my usual place." He had hardly been aware of it, but now he was highly annoyed to find that instead of taking his chair before the founder's hearth, he had been sitting at the other end of the library under the picture of the King and the Beggar-Maid, and all he could do to conceal his annoyance was to dictate his notice with unusual severity as follows:-- "HIS MAJESTY.--To call attention to the growing power and lawlessness of the beggars within the Liberties of St. Lazarus, and to lay certain considerations before the Council for the necessity of immediate steps being taken in regard thereto." The Chancellor wrote as he was told, placed the order in his portfolio without a word, and then stood up waiting to be dismissed. Kophetua looked at his snarling face for a moment, as though to detect what was passing there, and then, turning on his heel with a shrug, waved dismissal to his Minister. Turbo went straight to the door in silence, but before he reached it the King's voice stopped him. "Turbo!" said he frankly, "stay! What ridiculous farce is this we are playing?" It was always an understood signal between them, that when the King called the Chancellor by his name they were to be on their old footing of governor and pupil. It was no longer a monarch who spoke to his Minister, but two old friends who chatted together. So Turbo limped back and sat down carelessly by the hearth. "I really cannot tell," he answered coolly; "I was taking my cue from you." "Let us understand one another," said Kophetua. "Do you mean to allow a silly freak, in which we were both engaged, to sever our lifelong friendship?" "That depends upon what you intend to do?" "What do you mean?" "Do you intend to give me back the girl you stole from me?" "Certainly not," replied the King, with great decision. "Then," said the Chancellor calmly, as he rose from his seat, "I am afraid the silly freak will have the effect you were contemplating." "Sit down, Turbo. This is absurd. What can you want with the child?" "No matter. I want her." "It is impossible. I have passed my word to protect her; and, besides, I do not believe you want her." "I am in love with her," said Turbo, as coldly as though he were made of stone. "My dear Turbo," answered the King, "pray be serious while we discuss this matter." "I am serious. I tell you I love her." "But don't you see it is impossible for me to believe you after all you have taught me of your philosophy of women!" "It is because you have not learned your lesson that you cannot believe I may love. You have not understood what I taught you. You can chatter the words finely enough, but you have never conceived the spirit." "And may it not be the teacher who was at fault?" "No! I have told you plainly enough, but you are too soft and weak to hold the truth. Still I will tell you again what my woman-philosophy is. It is simply this: they have no resistance, no solid principles. Their natural understanding is as a pool of water lying in a shallow bed, beyond which no conviction can sink. A woman's moral ideas are but bubbles that float on the surface of her unstable soul, and burst into impalpable spray whenever they come in contact with the little they meet that is firm and fixed. For women are all and utterly unstable, except where they have shut in their souls with the stony rocks of self-love and personal interest. These are things which are solid enough in the daughters of Eve; it is against these that the empty bubbles of their morality are burst and dissipated." "But you have told me this many times," interrupted the King. "I cannot see how it explains the paradox you want me to believe: it is only the conceit of Diderot you quote again." "I know," pursued the Chancellor, "it is the conceit of Diderot; and Diderot was right, except that he pitied where he should only have despised. And he was right when he said that, though outwardly more civilised than ourselves, women have yet remained the true savages. It is they who have kept the passions and instincts of the beasts. We have changed them. They have only covered them over with civilisation. That is why Diderot called the deceivers 'fair as the seraphin of Klopstock, terrible as the fiends of Milton.' It was a wise saying, yet he could not see it was the poison of civilisation that transformed the seraphin into fiends. When did I ever say a word against the material part of women? It was their minds I bade you know and shun. Find me a woman where the seraphic matter is unpoisoned with the spirit of Eve, and why should I not love her? Such a one, I tell you, is the girl you stole. She is the pure clay, fresh from the hand of the potter. She is not smeared with the smooth and glittering glaze; she is not stained with the enticing colours; Art the arch-liar has not found her out to make her as fair and false as the rest. She is foul and ragged and ignorant. She knows no art to entice. She has no skill to deceive, and I love her for her foulness and her rags and her stupidity, and know her for a lump of the pure seraphic clay." "I hear what you say," said the King thoughtfully; "but I cannot understand. It is all wild talk, empty philosophy. This cannot make a man love." "You _will_ not understand!" cried Turbo, with sudden warmth. "That is it; you will not listen, because you know it is this that makes a man love. You know it, because you love her yourself!" "Turbo," answered Kophetua hotly, "what folly is this? You forget yourself." "Perhaps," cried Turbo, rising from his chair and speaking with ever-increasing vehemence. "But it is better to understand each other now. I say you love her. You and I have talked for years like fools on all this. We thought as one man, and thought we were wise and strong in our unity. But now we have both seen this girl--curse the fate that brought you to her--we have seen her, and we know we have been blind fools that could not tell the gold from the dross. She has come to us, and we both love her. You and I, I say, we both love her, but it is I that will have her! Do you hear? It is I, I that will have our love, though you stole her. Were you twice a king I will have her, though I tear her from your very arms." His ghastly scars grew more livid in his anger, and his pitted face turned pale with rage. He seemed as one possessed, and sank in helpless fury at the end of his insane outburst, as though exhausted with the prolonged struggle to control himself. Kophetua turned from him and began to pace the room. Turbo had gone too far. He had been insolent, and the King's pride was kindled into anger. Yet Kophetua would not speak till he was cool enough to control his words. For, strange as it may seem, he loved this man--in the same way, perhaps, as a man will love his cross-grained ugly cur that snarls and snaps at every one but his master. So he paced the long room to cool his anger and try and understand what his old governor's madness meant. Had he known his whole story, the task might have been easier. Had he known how that passionate nature had been chained down in long imprisonment, he might have wondered less to see it burst its bonds. But he knew not what passion could be in a man like Turbo. Its durance had been long and hard, and now the time was at hand when it must die, worn out with age and suffering. Yet even as the death throes were upon it, it had blazed up in one last ungovernable fit, and Kophetua, to his wonder, saw the man of ice burning like a furnace. At the last moment, when the struggle was so near its end, the strong man's strength had failed him. He was overwhelmed, as it were, and swept resistlessly onward by the gathering flood he had so long dammed up. But Kophetua could understand nothing of this as he paced the dark oak floor, and the more he thought of the Chancellor's threats and insolence, the less able he felt to continue the conversation. It was impossible to forgive his insinuations about Penelophon. So at last all Kophetua could do was to control himself sufficiently to inform the Chancellor in his coldest official tone that he should not require his further attendance that day. For Kophetua the Chancellor's departure did little to clear the air. The storm within him continued to growl and mutter. He felt himself a martyr, or if he ceased for a moment to think that, it was only to call himself a fool, and that was worse. The other view of the case was preferable. He certainly was a martyr. He had made one honest effort to escape from the banalities that were freezing his soul, and do something worthy of his name. The only result so far was that he had dangerously entangled himself with a siren who had been thrust in his way for that very purpose; he had allowed his name to be connected with a beggar-girl in a way that would have been still more annoying were it not so ridiculous; and, finally, on the eve of a fierce political struggle to which the same siren was sure to give rise, he had managed to quarrel with all three of the party leaders, including his best friend, and the only relation he had in the world. It is hardly to be wondered at under the circumstances that he found himself constantly recurring to thoughts which had often framed themselves before in the course of his reading in political philosophy. They were to the effect that kings were a mistake, and even a crime, and that his plain duty after all was to form a republic and abdicate. CHAPTER XI. OPENING THE CAMPAIGN. "And, as he musing thus did lye, He thought for to devise How he might have her companye, That so did 'maze his eyes." The next morning Turbo appeared at his usual hour. He was quite calm. So was the King. They greeted each other with cold civility, and Kophetua at once put his formal question, as to what business there was to be done. "There is business," said Turbo, "which perhaps will not be so painful to your majesty as it is to me!" "Yes?" replied the King unfeelingly. "Yesterday," the Chancellor continued, "a scene took place between your majesty and myself which cannot but interrupt the cordial relations that have hitherto existed between us. I regret and am heartily ashamed of the part I permitted to myself, and after what has occurred I feel my only course is to tender to your majesty my resignation." "Permit me to say, Chancellor," the King replied, for he was touched by this strong man's dignified humility and self-control, "permit me to say that your conduct appears to me entirely worthy of the high place you have won in your sovereign's estimation. You will understand that I desire no unwilling service, but, at the same time, I feel it is impossible to meet your magnanimity otherwise than by a request that you will reconsider your determination." "Sire, I fear it is useless," answered Turbo. "Your majesty can hardly appreciate the extent of the breach between us." "I appreciate it," said the King, "but I do not exaggerate it. We have differed on a private matter of absurd triviality. I recall nothing which an apology cannot heal, and that you have already amply given. Of course," he added, with some nervousness, "it is unnecessary to observe that I am assuming the abandonment of the intentions you expressed yesterday." "Perfectly unnecessary," said the Chancellor gravely. "You will see," went on Kophetua, almost apologetically, "I am compelled to insist on this. My royal word is passed. It is impossible not to feel a strong interest in a person whom one has saved from a horrible death." "I understand perfectly, sire," replied Turbo, interrupting the King, who was about to explain the circumstances which compelled him to take Penelophon under his care. "It is precisely that feeling which carried me into such excesses yesterday when this person was referred to, and which now prompts me to embrace cordially the offer of forgiveness and reconciliation which your majesty so magnanimously offers." "I hardly comprehend," said the King. "You have not saved my life or Pen---- or that of this young person." "I would crave your majesty's permission to pursue this subject no further," said Turbo. "Nay, I insist on knowing what you mean," answered the King. "Then I am forced to tell your majesty," said the Chancellor, with slow and distinct utterance, "that I was present at the Court of St. Lazarus during the whole of the ghastly tragedy at which your majesty assisted. I went thither in order to rescue, if possible, this unhappy young person from what I knew must be the result of the mistaken generosity with which your majesty had treated her. I found, with my crippled frame, I could do nothing. I witnessed your majesty's heroic intervention at the last moment, and saw at once a possibility of escape. Unseen by any one I forced pebbles into the lock which had turned upon you, and having thus secured the necessary delay, I was able to fetch two of my own servants with the simple means of effecting your majesty's escape through the prison window." "But why did you not tell me this?" asked the King, overwhelmed with surprise. "Why did you run away?" "I thought it would be only consistent with your majesty's wishes," said Turbo, "that no one should be, or even appear to be, cognisant of your adventure." For a moment Kophetua was overcome with annoyance and humiliation to think how, all through the piece of knight-errantry on which he had prided himself so much, Turbo had been watching over and humouring him as though he were a child. But his better feelings took possession of him directly. "Turbo, my dear Turbo," he said with effusion, as he advanced to the Chancellor and took his hand, "why could you not have told me this before, and saved me the injustice I have done you? How shall I ever be able to return your devotion?" "I beg your majesty will forget the whole affair," answered Turbo. "No one can know better than yourself how unpleasant is the exposure of the good we do by stealth." "My dear Turbo," said the King, "I can never forget it." So King and Chancellor were at one again, and Penelophon remained in peace under the protection of Mlle de Tricotrin, happy in the occasional glimpses she had of Trecenito, and happy in the affection which her mistress lavished upon her. For Mlle de Tricotrin had taken a real liking to her gentle handmaid. She had gone through life with hardly a single friend of her own sex, and Penelophon's simple devotion touched her not a little. For, to the beggar-maid, her delivery from the squalor, misery, and cruelty in which she had been brought up was like being lifted out of hell into heaven; and she adored her beautiful mistress almost as much as she did her deliverer. So the days went by in supreme happiness for those two women, and their serenity was in strange contrast to the storm which was brewing around them. The political barometer was beginning to show signs of considerable agitation, and it was clear to the experienced observer that these two women were forming the centre of an important disturbance, which bade fair to develop a dangerous energy. As has been previously explained, a storm in the troubled waters of politics was a normal event in Oneiria during crises like the present; but never before had there been one which seemed to promise such violence. The cause was not far to seek. The Marquis de Tricotrin had been to England. His stay had not been a short one, and he was not a man to throw away his opportunities. He liked the country and appreciated its peculiar blessings. It was not long before his sagacity detected the secret of our amazing political success, and he determined to lose no time in studying the palladium he had discovered. Fortunately, during the period of his observations the palladium exhibited itself in violent action; it therefore seems almost superfluous to add that the Marquis left the country with quite an uncommon mastery of party tactics and something approaching to genius in the manufacture and manipulation of majorities. All he required was a field. It is said he attempted something during his sojourn in the Canaries, but his praiseworthy endeavours were disliked and at once suppressed by the Spanish governor. It was then, thirsting for an opportunity for the display of his talents, that the Marquis arrived in Oneiria. Not a day had passed before he recognised the excellence of his fortune. He found himself in the midst of three strongly divided parties, practically without experience of modern methods, and himself and his daughter the bone of contention between them. It was a moment of pardonable enthusiasm. With a hastiness excusable in a foreigner he hurried to the conclusion that as there were three parties there must be three policies, and, what is more, in three days he was persuaded that he clearly understood what they were. Neither conviction was entirely justified, but of this the Marquis was naturally unaware. To a man of his experience the whole matter was comparatively simple, and, with a decision which would not have disgraced the oldest parliamentary hand, he adopted a plan of campaign. There were three parties, each requiring a policy. All he had to do, then, was to make each party adopt his daughter as its particular programme. That was the obvious objective, and the lines of strategy towards it were no less plain to his penetration. One of the first things he had learned in England was that simple rule which reiterated success has hallowed into a dogma: "When it is impossible to find fault with your adversaries' policy, it is lawful to steal it." As a policy his daughter was irreproachable. He felt therefore that little more than a mere suggestion of the stratagem to the party leaders was necessary in order to ensure its adoption. The conquest which Mlle de Tricotrin had already made of the Queen was enough to secure the Agathist party, even had it not been that they had already accepted the nomination. As for the Kallikagathists, he felt they were at least half won by the impression his daughter's beauty had made on the soft heart of their gallant leader. In fact, it is not too much to say that General Dolabella was quite unhinged. It was a long time since his admiration for a woman had got so beyond his control as to lead him into melancholy. But this was certainly his case now, and the Marquis saw it. As we have said, he was a man of decisive action who did not lose opportunities, and he determined to occupy the position which the General's weakness exposed to him before that gallant officer could recover himself. The Marquis found it a more difficult task than he had expected. The General, he confessed, was very stupid, and offered all kinds of objections. He even went so far as to say that he doubted whether the suggested stratagem was quite soldierly, but he was at once pooh-poohed into recantation by the Marquis's English precedents. Still he held out with confused obstinacy, which the Marquis put down to the General's denseness, but which was, in fact, due to his own mistaken estimate of the situation. His hasty and erroneous conclusions as to the real relations between the respective parties had caused him, as has been already hinted, to entirely misunderstand Dolabella's position, and he was adopting a false method of attack. "But pardon me for saying," said the General, retreating to this point for the tenth time, "that I cannot see what I or my party is to gain by adopting the course you propose." The General always distinguished between himself and his party. It was no doubt entirely due to that unique and complex condition of Oneirian politics, which was the precise element in the question, that the Marquis in his haste had failed to grasp. The shrewd Frenchman began to perceive he was at fault somewhere, and determined to fathom the mystery. "I perceive," said he, "that you have more than once spoken of yourself as something distinct from the party you lead. May I venture to ask whether the usual procedure in this country is to deal with the two things separately?" "God forbid!" cried the General in alarm. "To hint of such a thing would smell of disloyalty in any but a foreigner who does not understand us." "Forgive my ignorance, General," said the Marquis, "and show your pity for it so far as to explain your unintelligible position." "With great pleasure, my dear Marquis," answered the General, with a look of painful worry at the almost impossible feat demanded of him. "It is a little complicated, but I think I can show you how things lie. You see, although I lead the Kallikagathist party, it does not follow me." "That _is_ a little difficult," answered the Marquis gravely. "You mean that I should arrange with your party which way it means to go, that you may be in a position to know how to lead it?" "Not at all," said the General. "We are entirely at one. Our lines of thought are identical. It is only in our lines of action that we differ." "Which is, of course," replied the Marquis, "a mere detail." "Precisely," said Dolabella, in a somewhat relieved tone. "You see, my practical policy is to elect the Queen, theirs to elect the Speaker, but both elections are governed by the same principles." "Your explanation is really masterly," said the Marquis. "I wonder I was so stupid; I see your point now quite clearly. You mean that you cannot make your party responsible for a policy which will not tend to improve the chances of their candidate for the chair." "Yes," said the General, a little doubtfully, "that does seem to be what I mean." "Very well," continued De Tricotrin; "then if I could ensure them the support of the Agathist party for their candidate, they would be prepared to accept my daughter at your nomination?" "But, unfortunately," objected the General, "we have no candidate of sufficient weight to bring about such a coalition." "Then why don't you stand yourself?" said the Marquis. "My dear Marquis!" cried the General, completely taken aback. "Such a thing was never heard of." "So much the better," replied the tempter. "The more unexpected our moves, the better chance we have of success. The idea seems to me to meet every difficulty. What you yourself gain it would not become me to point out. I need only remark that your election would be highly pleasing to my daughter. It is no breach of confidence to say that the poor girl has been more than touched by the chivalrous admiration of a distinguished officer and statesman like yourself. The speakership in this country is an office which bears a peculiar and delicate relation to the Queen. It would be a source of greater pleasure to my daughter than perhaps I ought to reveal, to know that you were to occupy the chair at her coronation, and I am sure that her influence with the Queen-mother and the leaders of the Agathist party is sufficient to ensure their adhesion to her favoured candidate. At the last moment the nominal candidate of their party shall be withdrawn and the coast left clear for your certain return. Say now, my dear General, will you give my daughter this one last satisfaction before her marriage?" During the beginning of this speech the General had been staring at the Frenchman, with eyes wide with amazement, but as he proceeded, the blissful picture which was artfully called up before him was too much for his susceptible nature. To kiss those lovely lips, and embrace that bewitching form! It was a rapture of which he had not dared to dream. He closed his eyes as he listened, and a foolish smile of complacent and inexpressible satisfaction overspread his rouged and powdered face. When the Marquis ceased he collected himself with a sudden effort to a more dignified expression. He rose with the air of a statesman who is resolved to pursue a policy worthy of his magnanimity, and took the Marquis solemnly by the hand. "Marquis!" said he, "you are a great man. Your generalship will ensure the election of this lady, whose beauty, virtue, and intelligence make it the duty of every loyal subject of the King's to espouse her cause. Your admirably conceived plan demands of me and my party a sacrifice. Monsieur le Marquis, we will make that sacrifice!" Thereupon Monsieur de Tricotrin embraced the gallant martyr, told him he had a noble heart, and assured him with effusion that courage, devotion, intelligence, and sensibility would be carved in highest relief upon the imperishable fabric of his memory. And so he took his departure, leaving the General to wonder whether Madame Dolabella would view his conduct in the same light. The Agathist and Kallikagathist parties were practically won. There remained still the most difficult task. The Marquis was perfectly aware of the King's antipathy to matrimony, and was fully convinced that there was still a great chance of failure, unless Turbo's support could be gained. To achieve this he felt was a task of the greatest delicacy and difficulty, and one worthy of his skill as a politician. There was clearly but one way in which it could be done. To approach the Chancellor directly was out of the question. Pressure must be put on him through his party. With a light heart, which confidence in his abilities can alone give a man, the Marquis set about his task, little imagining the extraordinary result his ingenious manoeuvres were to have. CHAPTER XII. A DECISIVE ACTION. "But Cupid had him so in snare, That this poor beggar must prepare A salve to cure him of his care." The activity of M. de Tricotrin soon began to make itself felt. There was something so delightfully cynical about the political maxim upon which he was working, that most of the prominent Kallists, whom he sounded, embraced his idea with enthusiasm. The result was a marked and sudden acrimony in the conduct of the campaign. The situation was entirely new, and was discussed with all the fire and recklessness which is the attribute of new situations everywhere. Before, the question had always lain between the claims of the ladies whom the respective parties supported; now it was between the claims of the respective parties upon a lady whom they all supported. There was something particularly invigorating in the freshness of the political atmosphere. As each party gradually recognised the discreditable tactics of its opponents, feeling began to run very high. For of course the Speaker was not chosen on his merits. It has been explained how, in this unique country, nothing was ever done or omitted on its merits. The Speaker was chosen on the merits of the candidate for the "Crown of Kisses." Hence the interest which politicians of every grade displayed in her and her relation to the principles which were supposed to guide the different parties. The progress of the discussion, which each day grew more heated, only serves to show us what unprincipled politicians the Oneirians were. Instead of attacking the real views of their opponents, as we always do, no matter how great the danger of defeat, they were accustomed to attribute to them views which they knew, or might easily have known, they did not possess, and emptied their artillery furiously at the monsters they had thus themselves created. It was a method that had something to commend it. It was often successful. The _débris_ of these paper giants not unfrequently smothered the hosts which were the real object of attack, and gave the victors an ill-gotten peace till the enemy could repeat the manoeuvre to their own advantage. All parties were now busy on the old lines. As soon as the Agathists recovered from the shock which the attempt on their candidate gave them, they raised an angry scream that the whole thing was immoral, shameful, and ridiculous. That the Kallists, who objected to virtue and only admired beauty, should pretend to support an angel like Mlle de Tricotrin was a piece of duplicity and presumption which no words would adequately characterise. The Kallists replied with equal warmth, declaring that absolute falsehood was the last thing to stand in the way of a hypocritical Agathist when he wanted to gain his selfish ends; they knew perfectly well that the Kallists did not object to virtue; they admired beauty, which was a very different thing. Above all things Mlle de Tricotrin was beautiful, the most beautiful woman that had ever appeared in Oneiria, and it was therefore sheer nonsense to pretend that she ought to be an Agathist candidate. It was well known that Agathists hated beauty, and cared for nothing but virtue; and therefore for them to set up a claim to Mlle de Tricotrin was nothing less than unconstitutional. The Kallikagathists as usual held a little aloof. They did not hurl themselves into the thick of the fight. The party, it has been said, consisted chiefly of superior persons, and was nothing if not dignified. They listened to the clangour of the fray with lofty contempt, assuring each other the while, with well-bred reserve, that whatever lies idiotic politicians might tell, the true state of the case must be clear to all plain, sensible people. At last a lady had appeared who was at once divinely beautiful and sublimely virtuous. No amount of clamour therefore could disguise the simple fact--and facts were strong things--that Mlle de Tricotrin could not by any possibility be the candidate of any party but their own. So furiously did the battle rage that Kophetua could hardly get the Council to pay any attention to the state of the Liberties of St. Lazarus. Objections and insuperable difficulties they had in plenty, but that was all. Turbo, however, fortunately adopted a different view, and he was a host in himself. He seemed to be taking no interest whatever in what was going on about him. To all appearances he might have been entirely ignorant of the whole discussion, and of how serious was the pressure which was likely to be put upon the King to induce him to accept the hand of Mlle de Tricotrin. Perhaps, however, he had the matter more deeply in his mind than was suspected. It was, possibly, nothing but this which induced him to give his unqualified support to his majesty's suggestion that, as a preliminary measure, details of the frontier gendarmerie should be gradually concentrated in the neighbourhood of the capital. Whatever may have been his real motive, this policy was certainly calculated to distract the King's attention from matrimony and Mlle de Tricotrin. The indifference of their chief, however, in no way lessened the ardour of the Kallist party. By the time the day came round for the usual monthly reception at the palace, the quarrel was in full swing. The occasion was expected with considerable excitement, for it was an open secret that each party was going to make it the scene of a demonstration, by which each thought to gain a march upon its adversaries. The Agathists especially were in a high state of elation, and not without cause. The stroke they had prepared displayed real political ability. The Queen-mother was of course surrounded by Agathist ladies. Every day they had an opportunity of seeing and speaking to Mlle de Tricotrin, for Margaret seemed unable to pass a single day without the society of her new friend during some portion of it. Thus there was plenty of opportunity of examining Mlle de Tricotrin's costumes minutely, and by dint of intense application the ladies of the Queen's circle were able to prepare for the reception a number of gowns whose resemblance to the original model was very creditable, considering the impediment of unsuitable materials and the difficulty which the rococo tastes of the designers naturally had in grasping the spirit of Mlle de Tricotrin's neo-classic style. All was ready the day before the momentous occasion. A great strategical advantage seemed assured to the Agathist party, when, unfortunately, the vigilance of the Kallist intelligence department discovered the secret by means of a corrupt maid. In the utmost consternation they flew to the Marquis with the news. His Parisian experience of the influence of women in politics told him at once that it was a crisis of the highest gravity--a crisis of that transcendent nature which serves to mark out the great from the moderate men--a crisis to which intellects like M. de Tricotrin's are alone equal. He gravely heard the whole case, considered for a few moments, and then it was plain that he had taken his decision. "I presume," he said, with an air of calm resolution, "that Lady Kora and the Count will be there." The Count was the Kallist candidate for the chair, and Lady Kora, his daughter, was the beauty of the party. Of course they would be there. "Very well," continued the Marquis; "request them to be so kind as to come to my house to-morrow afternoon, and beg them not to be at the trouble of dressing for the reception." The deputation was satisfied. They were coming to have entire confidence in the Marquis's generalship, and they retired with expressions of mutual esteem. M. de Tricotrin at once went to his daughter's apartment. As it happened, he found Penelophon laying out a beautiful gown for her mistress's inspection. "See, sir," cried Mlle de Tricotrin, as he entered. "There is the gown I wear to-morrow. Is it not lovely?" The Marquis looked at it critically. "Is that the handsomest one you have?" he asked. "Yes, sir," she answered. "It is the loveliest one I ever had. I have kept it back on purpose for a time like this. I am so happy that I did." "I am happy too, my child, for I want it." "But it won't suit you, sir?" "My child," said the Marquis, with Spartan severity, "this is no time for levity. We are on the brink of a desperate crisis. It is a moment of gravest peril, and that gown alone can save us." And then he explained to her the whole situation, and how he had resolved that Lady Kora should wear her most beautiful dress. Poor Mlle de Tricotrin! Like most pretty women, and many others, she was very fond of her pretty frocks. She had an exquisite taste in them, and had been preparing this present one for a triumph which should outdo all her previous successes. She and Penelophon had been thinking of little else for some days past, and her beautiful eyes filled with tears at her bitter disappointment. "O sir," she said, "you are always asking sacrifices of me." "But I ask none," he answered, "that I do not make myself. I shall lend the Count the very last suit of clothes which I had from Paris." "But that is so different," she answered. "I really cannot see how," said he; "but that is a matter of detail. You have some intelligence, my child, and you must see that as long as we can hold the balance true between the parties, they will all struggle which is to support us most vigorously. If we once let one of them get the upper hand, we shall immediately have an opposition. No! be brave, be my own daughter, and fling your gown into the rising scale as I do my plum-coloured suit. It is a sacrifice, I know, but to win a crown you must expect greater sacrifices than this. Many have to sacrifice honour, and even lives, to their ambition; be thankful that this is all I demand of you--as yet." "Take it away, Penelophon," said Mlle de Tricotrin desperately, "I cannot bear to see it now; and yet how pretty it is! Had you told me yesterday I would give this up, I should have said, 'No, that is impossible; as impossible as that I should sacrifice you, child.'" It was miserable work for both mistress and maid dressing Lady Kora on the following afternoon. But Mlle de Tricotrin had made the sacrifice, and had sense and determination enough to be loyal to it, and make the most of it. She draped Lady Kora herself, and Penelophon dressed her hair as she had been taught by her mistress. Lady Kora had pretty hair and a pretty complexion, so she was well enough without her rouge and powder. It made poor Mlle de Tricotrin almost break down to see how charming she had made her look in her own best-loved gown. But the effect on the Agathist ladies was something very much more severe. When they assembled in the throne-room, they were in the highest spirits. Nothing was heard but mutual congratulations on the success of their manoeuvre, and the sour looks of the opposition. True, the costumes were not all that they had intended. The rich satins and flowered brocades upon which they had worked did not lend themselves particularly well to the neo-classic treatment. The general effect was decidedly bunchy. There was a want of softness and grace about the folds, and some of the coiffures gave evidence of a serious want of feeling for the style. The harmonious disorder of Mlle de Tricotrin it was found very hard to attain. Most of the heads presented a shock of ugly tangle, such as the Sleeping Beauty must have suffered from when she first awoke; others had frankly given up the attempt, and, merely abandoning their powder, had kept to their old-world design, with a somewhat painfully incongruous effect. Still, whatever might be the artistic verdict, politically it was an immense success, and Agathist spirits ran high. The Kallikagathist ladies displayed their characteristic moderation with an increase of self-respect which, as usual, was in direct proportion to the contempt with which it inspired their opponents. With sagacious self-control they had given up powder, clung to their rouge, and shortened their waists without lessening the girth of their hoop. The compromise served well to mark their principles, but sadly spoilt their figures. We can imagine, then, the terrible shock which the entrance of Lady Kora and her father created. That the Kallist candidate should outshine the Marquis was bad enough, but that his daughter, the recognised beauty and leader of fashion in Kallist circles, should put Mlle de Tricotrin into the shade with her gown was simply a disaster. The more the Agathist ladies looked at her, the more absurd and bunchy did they feel. With the appalling conviction that they had made themselves ridiculous they tried to hide themselves in the throng. More than one poor girl was found in tears as she thought of her shock head, and the hateful costume she had been compelled to wear. How could they ever recover their reputation? The cup of the vanquished was full when the King danced a second minuet with Lady Kora. The Marquis even began to be alarmed lest his manoeuvre was being too successful. Still there was in any case one point gained. In spite of Turbo, the Kallist party was openly committed to the support of Mlle de Tricotrin. Turbo saw it plainly, and saw it without dismay. With perfect unconcern, he had been watching while De Tricotrin laboriously constructed his matrimonial engine. The ingenuity which the Frenchman displayed only served to amuse him while he was waiting for the moment to deliver the blow, which he calculated would smash the elaborate machine to pieces. He well knew how Kophetua would see through the whole conspiracy, and resent the pressure that was being prepared for him. He was fully alive to the fact that the least thing would now be enough to turn his pupil against Mlle de Tricotrin, and he laughed to himself to think how, when the hour was come, at one stroke he would gain all he wanted, and prevent all he did not want. It was now that the hour had come. "Permit me, Marquis, to make you a compliment," said Turbo, as with engaging freedom he drew the Frenchman on to a balcony in a secluded part of the state apartments. "Your generalship is simply consummate; I am completely out-manoeuvred." "My dear Chancellor," replied the Marquis in some suspicion at this sudden surrender, "I trust you will not interpret any move that I have made as an offensive operation against yourself." "M. le Marquis," said Turbo, looking frankly at his rival, "let us be perfectly open. We are each of us too old to be deceived by the other. Each knows the other's game perfectly well. You are quite aware that as regards your daughter's marriage with the King I am in opposition, and I know equally well that this splendid combination--for so you must permit me to call it--this splendid combination, which has cut my party from under my feet, is the product of your genius and nothing else." "Your frankness, Chancellor," replied the Marquis, with pardonable pride, "is as charming as your compliment. I meant to thwart you, and I think I have pretty well succeeded." "Precisely," said Turbo, "and, while I still have a chance, I wish to make terms with you." "I am prepared to consider anything in reason," replied the Marquis magnanimously. "I am glad you take that tone," said the Chancellor, "for you see I have a reserve which I should be very loth to use, but which I should be compelled to use, if we failed to agree." "Well," said the Marquis, smiling with lofty incredulity, "let me hear your terms." "It is merely that you should hand over to me, without reserve, your daughter's new maid." "My dear Chancellor, nothing would give me greater pleasure, but my daughter would never consent to such a thing." The Marquis was an old schemer, and at once winded a very cunning attempt to blacken his daughter's character irrevocably in the eyes of the King. "Are you sure?" "Perfectly." "Then I must take my own course." "By all means; I am quite prepared with mine." "Ah! you think I am so silly as to boast of forces that I do not possess. Wait! I will be franker with you still. I will draw my weapon and show you how bright and sharp it is." "Really, Chancellor, you are very kind." "Listen," hissed Turbo in his ear. "The King does not love your daughter. He loves her maid. None but I know it. Why do you think he used to watch the beggar-maid continually from his windows? Why did he fetch her at the risk of his life and in disguise out of the Liberties? Why did he place her with the most accomplished woman he knew, to be refined and sweetened for him? Why does he sit continually before the old picture in the library? Ha! he thought he was so cunning when he put her with your daughter. He thought no one would guess, if she were under the wing of the woman whom every one thinks is going to be his bride. But I know him. I was not blinded. He means to marry the beggar-maid to spite you all, and because he loves her. Think what his principles are! How he would rejoice to share his throne with one of the lowest of the people! He is a dreamer. You do not know him. He is a dreamer, and it is a thing that has happened here before." Turbo's infatuation for Penelophon made him believe every word he said, and his intense earnestness was not without its effect upon the Marquis. After his long career of intrigue, De Tricotrin was a man difficult to deceive, and he was also a man to know when another was speaking what he thought to be the truth. "This is a very serious view to take of the situation, Chancellor," he said, after a short silence. "Pardon me if I cannot adopt it at once. There are difficulties. He did not ask my daughter to receive this girl; it was she that chanced to offer." "Chanced!" said Turbo scornfully. "Are you deceived by such a trick as that? Why do you think he chose the very hour when your daughter was with the Queen? Why, only because he knew the Queen would refuse, and that your daughter would offer." "True!" answered the Marquis thoughtfully, "I remember she told me the King asked her to remain while he made his request. Are you sure you are right in your story of this romantic abduction? Is there evidence of it?" "See," said Turbo, coolly bringing a paper from his pocket, "here is the very warrant under which General Dolabella detained her till she could be otherwise disposed of." "But how do you come by it?" "After execution all warrants are brought to me to file in the archives." "And all you ask," said the Marquis, after carefully examining the warrant, "is the surrender of this girl? It seems a small price to pay for your adhesion." "Possibly, but it is not so," replied Turbo. "To begin with: I cannot prevent the King marrying either your daughter or the beggar. I must lose my game now, in any case. Then I have a strong fancy for this girl myself, and ask her as the price of my not prolonging the struggle. Of course I could manage that the King should marry her, but I should gain nothing by it. By the present arrangement I do." "Your position is quite clear to me now," said the Marquis. "Then you accept my terms?" "I do." CHAPTER XIII. MISTRESS AND MAID. "She had forgot her gowne of gray Which she did weare of late." It would be hard to imagine a prettier picture than there was to be seen in the apartments of Mlle de Tricotrin on the afternoon of the day following the eventful reception. The cold season was drawing to a close. The day had been very sultry; and clad in the rich _déshabillé_ of the zenana, the beauty was lying listlessly on a luxurious divan, pretending to finish her siesta. A loose white robe of softest cotton was wrapped about her negligently, and her bare feet peeped shyly out of it. Her rounded arms, her littered brown hair, the tumbled heap of gaily striped pillows, in which her flushed face was half buried, all told of the languorous unrest of the East; and the soft, rose-coloured light glimmered in from the domed ceiling upon a scene in which Europe seemed quite forgotten. Indeed, it was in its only half-concealed Orientalism that Oneiria had the greatest charm for her. That was easy to see in all the decoration and appointments of the room, in the harmonious shimmer of the arabesques, with which the plastered walls were painted, and the dwarf tables, and scattered cushions and softly glowing mats, which almost hid the cool, polished floor. No less was it visible in her own dress, and that of Penelophon, who stood fanning her mistress with a large and gaudy palm-leaf fan. It has been said that Mlle de Tricotrin had a pretty taste in costume, and it was her delight to devise modifications of the Eastern attires, which surrounded her amongst the lower orders, and dress her pretty maid in them. To-day Penelophon wore in the Moorish fashion, to which she was accustomed, a long robe that reached loosely from her shoulders to her feet, of a soft yellow hue. Low about her waist it was girt by a band of scarlet cloth, richly embroidered with gold, and of almost extravagant breadth. Yet there is no other cincture which will so beautifully express the grace of a lithe young figure. It confined without restraint, and allowed the robe to fall open naturally at the breast, so as to show beneath it a glimpse of a scarlet bodice. A silken scarf, knotted about her head, almost concealed her dark hair. Her arms and feet were bare, and looked almost as white as the silver anklets and armlets with which they were clasped, and which jingled with a soft and pleasant sound as she gently moved the fan. All other noise was hushed, and Penelophon stood quiet and content to look down with deepest admiration at the lovely face resting in the pillows, while she waited patiently till her mistress should be tired of pretending to sleep. "'Tis useless," said Mlle de Tricotrin at last, rousing herself with a lazy toss of her arms; "I can sleep no more." "Is it thinking of Trecenito that keeps you awake?" asked Penelophon, as her mistress sat up on the divan, and she kneeled at her feet to put on her dainty slippers. "Hush! hush! my girl; a maid must not speak of such things to her mistress." "Forgive me, madam, for indeed I meant no harm," said Penelophon, pausing in her work and looking up wistfully. "And you did no harm," replied her mistress. "Yes, you may speak of this to me. I like to hear you, for you are maid and friend in one. Yes, child," she went on, taking the sweet upturned face in her hand caressingly, "you are the only woman I ever loved; the only friend I ever had." She sank back wearily upon the divan, and Penelophon stooped and kissed in deep devotion the little white foot she held in her hand before she hid it in the slipper. "Why do you do that, child?" asked her mistress. "I don't know," answered Penelophon; "but you are so kind, and I am so happy, and you love Trecenito so." The girls great dark eyes were brimming with tears as she looked up, and her mistress saw them. "Why, child," she said, "you love him too!" "No, no," said Penelophon eagerly, a faint blush tinting her pale face. "I do not love him. He is high above where my love can reach. I adore him and worship him, and it is you I love because you love him. There is no one but you in the wide world whom such a man as he could love. It is only such a one as you who can know how to love him, and that is why you are so dear to me. You are the sweet saint that helps me to reach the throne of my heaven. It is like worship to tire your hair, and dress you, and send you away in all your beauty to make him glad. You are the prayers I say to him, and the hymns I sing, and the sweet incense I offer to my god." "My child, my child," said her mistress in a hushed voice, as of one who speaks in some vast, solemn cathedral, "whence and what are you? It is only the angels who love like that. Surely it was one of them who whispered in my ear that I should ask him to give you to me." "Yes," answered the maid, "and it was surely one that brought you to him, because they knew how good he would be to me. 'He must not wait for paradise,' they said. 'We will bring him a wife as bright and pure and beautiful as the heavens, and he shall have a paradise on earth.' So they brought you to him, and they will show him the sunshine in your face, and the blue sky that slumbers in your eyes; he shall feel the warm glow of your lips, and know it is the spirit of life; he shall hear the murmur of your voice, and know it is the echo of the prayers which the saints have prayed." "Hush! hush!" said her mistress, almost beneath her breath. "You must not speak so. You frighten me. I am not what you think. God help me! I am not what you think. And yet, child, yet I believe you would almost make me what you say. Ah me! if I had had a sister such as you! Sing to me, child, while I lie and think what I am and what I might have been." Penelophon rose, and took a kind of lute, which was the instrument of the people, and began to sing to it some half Moorish love-song, full of those slurs and weird modulations which sound so strange to European ears. But Penelophon's plaintive voice had a fascination for her mistress, and she lay quite still listening till the end. As the song finished, the door opened, and Monsieur de Tricotrin came in. "My child," said he, "I want to speak to you." "Alone?" "Yes, alone." "Go then, Penelophon," said Mlle de Tricotrin; "but come back and talk to me before I dress." "It is a pretty wench the King gave you," said the Marquis, as the beggar-maid left the room. "I doubt if she helps much when he sees you together." "But I am very fond of her, sir!" "That is what I fancy is the case with him." "No, that is impossible. A man could never be taken with a child like her." "You must remember, my dear," said the Marquis, "they have been playing hero and heroine together in a very romantic drama? You know?" "Perfectly, sir; Penelophon has told me." "And yet you do not believe a man may be infatuated with her?" "No, sir. She has nothing to charm a man." "Well, I have reasons for what I say." "Indeed, sir." "Yes. To begin with, Turbo, the Chancellor, is crazy about her." "That was but the passing fancy of a brutal nature." "My dear, you are quite mistaken. He is crazy still." "You surely must be joking, sir." "Not at all. In fact, it is on this very subject I came to speak. He wants you to give her up to him." "I would rather give up the throne!" cried she warmly. "Softly, my child," said the Marquis. "Do not decide this matter too hastily. A throne is not a thing to be lightly cast on one side for the sake of a miserable little beggar-girl." "Yes; but that is not the question now." "My dear, it is the question." "You do not mean----" "I mean simply that the Chancellor asks your maid as the price of his adhesion, and without his adhesion we cannot succeed. That is all. I call it really handsome." "And I--I call it infamous!" cried Mlle de Tricotrin hotly. "It is a villainy, and I will never consent to it!" "My dear," said the Marquis soothingly, "what a fuss to make about this miserable creature. It is a mere matter of business; for you can hardly call a beggar a human being. Equality and fraternity are all very well, but that would be going too far." "I know your principles of equality well enough, sir, and I do not call this poor girl human. She is an angel, and he--he is a fiend that Penelophon dreams of and wakes screaming. She shudders when she even thinks of him, and the sight of him is a horror that paralyses her. No, no; I will not part with her. You have my answer, sir." "My child," said the Marquis calmly, in spite of his vexation, "I am not pleased with you. You are talking very foolishly. I did not ask you for an answer now, and I will not take one. This evening, ere you retire for the night, I will hear your decision. Turbo will be in waiting, and you can send the girl to him to be got out of the way, or else you can let her stay for the King to marry, whichever you like. Remember what has happened in this country before, and remember the character of the present sovereign. That is all I ask at present. I will leave you to consider the matter." With these words M. de Tricotrin went abruptly from the room. He saw he had made an impression upon his daughter by what he had said, and he was an old enough hand at the game of persuading women to know the value of allowing impressions so made to ferment by themselves. He knew that further discussion would only disturb her and arrest the process, till perhaps what he considered a mere girlish fantastic mood would become solidified into a wholly illogical and obstinate determination which might afterwards prove quite insoluble. "Women," he used to say, "have no opinions. They have merely contradictory states of mind, which serve them indifferently instead. They are states of mind which live upon contradictions. Failing this they perish, and, consequently, as a state of mind of some kind is a moral necessity, to women no less than to men, in the absence of external contradiction, they will soon contradict themselves." Whether the Marquis's theory has any real scientific value is a matter of doubt. It is merely interesting here as the one upon which he acted with his daughter. She was not always easy to manage. She was naturally a woman of spirit, and, moreover, quite understood the high pecuniary value her father placed upon her. She had known all her life that she was the best card he had to play, and that now she was the only one. It is not to be wondered at then, that, being human, she from time to time showed a strong disposition to have a say in the game. The Marquis saw she was in one of her antagonistic moods now; so, as we have said, he left the poisonous barm he had dexterously planted to ferment and produce the metamorphosis he desired. Mlle de Tricotrin did not talk much to Penelophon when she returned. She was occupied in trying to convince herself that no man of the world could possibly admire the girl. She had always liked the pale, delicate face herself for its purity and dreamy simplicity. She could imagine, perhaps, a painter, or a sculptor, or a poet--yes, but was not Kophetua a poet after all? Were not all the high-flown democratic opinions which he was constantly expressing nothing but the love of a poet for nature, and the base multitude whom he idealised as the children of nature? She was conscious of feeling distinctly colder to her maid, as she was being dressed for Count Kora's rout, to which she was going that evening. But Penelophon saw no difference, and she fondled her idol's lustrous hair, and caressed the soft folds of her gown as lovingly as ever; and when all was done rejoiced as unaffectedly in the surpassing beauty she was sending forth as her offering to the hero she worshipped. The Marquis did not refer again to the subject at his heart; but as he ascended the stairs of the Kora Palace, he gently stirred the fermentation he had set up. "You know, my child," he said blandly, "that your presence here to-night finally marks you as the accepted candidate of the Kallists." "You have told me so, sir." "And you know that there remain now only two persons to gain." "You mean, sir, I presume----" "The Chancellor and the King. To-night you will either win or lose the former. You have to play a stroke which will count more than everything we have done. You understand?" "Yes, sir." "Then, as you are determined to refuse the price Turbo asks for his alliance, you had better try and win him by the other way in which you are so clever, my dear." "He is invulnerable to those weapons, sir. I might as well try to charm the wind." "Then I suppose we must call him lost." Mlle de Tricotrin did not answer. It was a good sign. The Marquis felt hopeful, and determined to assure the Chancellor that if he would be present at the time and place appointed he would not be disappointed. CHAPTER XIV. "MORIBUNDUS AMOR." "What is thy name, faire maid? quoth he. Penelophon, O king, quoth she." Count Kora's rout did little to restore Mlle de Tricotrin's peace of mind. To be sure Kophetua was there. He was fond of society, and went freely amongst his rout-giving subjects. Kophetua talked with Mlle de Tricotrin, but somehow he did not seem so animated as usual. It is true they spoke in the same familiar tone as before, but for the first time the spice of growing intimacy was wanting. It is the most intoxicating flavour that conversation can have, and nothing is more banal than the sense of staleness when it ceases. To-night was one of these occasions for these two. Their words seemed dead, and every effort which Mlle de Tricotrin made to restore their life was unavailing. In vain did she pose in her privileged _rôle_ as his gentle philosopher. In vain did she tempt him to further confessions, and raise the deep questions which before had always made him speak so low and earnestly. A damp and chilly pall seemed to overhang them, and she felt the familiar path which was once so gay and sweet with flowers was now worn bare, and had no longer any power to charm. All her noble sentiments and pretty fancies, for which he had been so greedy, were now like empty husks she was offering him. The grain was gone. She knew that the King felt it too, and was not amused or even interested. She knew he was loyally making efforts not to fall back from the point they had reached together, but soon he changed the conversation to the lightest banter. He even began to pay her compliments. Then the bitter truth against which she was struggling seemed to gain a sudden strength. It framed itself in words upon her lips, and she said to herself, "He is getting tired of me." Her sad conviction was only strengthened when at last, as with a forlorn hope of keeping up the tone of their talk to the pitch of confidential friendliness which it had previously attained, Kophetua broached a subject which was peculiar to themselves. Their secret, as he fondly thought it, was his last resource to recall the delight which he had been accustomed to find in her society. For in spite of all his certainty that she was playing a deep game with him, and using against his heart a whole battery of carefully prepared weapons, yet he was obliged to confess that her society had been irresistibly delightful, and he was resolved not to let the sweet cup pass away from him without at least another draught. "How is our Penelophon, mademoiselle?" he asked. "In the best of health, sire," she answered, perhaps a little coldly. "I can never thank you enough," he went on, "for being so kind to her." "I do nothing for her, sire," she replied, with that little laugh that means everything but enjoyment. "At least, nothing that a mistress will not do for a faithful maid, and one whom she has so much reason to make a favourite." "Oh, but you do," he answered; "I have seen, for instance, how you try to please the poor child with those gowns in which she looks so pretty." "Had I known your majesty observed her so closely," she said, "I should hardly have dared to show my interest in her so plainly; but I ought to have guessed that you would feel a more than passing interest in a girl whom you had rescued so romantically." "Then she has told you the whole story?" asked the King, with a shade of annoyance in his voice. "Yes." "Then you can understand the interest I must feel in her future." "Perfectly," answered Mlle de Tricotrin. "It must have such a charming flavour of the old ballad for you." "I am not very fond of ballads," said the King, a little distantly. "I am sorry, sire," she answered simply, "because they have for me such a delicious savour of nature. I was going to ask you to tell me the name of the beggar in the story. I had a fancy for calling my maid by it." "Do you not know?" asked the King, looking at her fixedly. "No," she answered, meeting his look with perfect frankness, for she was speaking the truth; "I have never heard or seen the ballad." "She was called Penelophon," said the King, with an embarrassed laugh. Mlle de Tricotrin gave a genuine start of surprise. "Is your majesty serious?" she said. "Perfectly." "What a strange coincidence!" Their conversation had been getting colder and colder. By some evil influence Kophetua seemed to be choosing the worst things he could say, and Mlle de Tricotrin replying with everything that was best calculated to annoy the King. It had reached at last to a painful iciness, and the embarrassment which now fell upon them both froze it altogether. They sat in silence, each knowing perfectly that the other was thinking something it would be a wide breach of manners to say, and that is almost worse than saying it. Yet they need not have been so embarrassed, for, as it happened, it was no coincidence at all. The old tradition still grew green within the Liberties of St. Lazarus, and there were few families in which one of the women was not named Penelophon. Still the beggars kept so much to themselves that this very natural custom was not generally known, and certainly it had never come to the ears of the King or Mlle de Tricotrin. Hence their embarrassment was as great as if it had been well-founded, and was most happily relieved by the Count desiring to know if his majesty would take a dish of tea. It was perhaps more than a coincidence which later in the evening caused Kophetua to ask M. de Tricotrin what he thought of the new American Republic. His interview with Mlle de Tricotrin seemed to put matrimony further from him than ever, and his abdication was staring him in the face. He began to see it was unavoidable, and his innate moral courage and conscientiousness made him cast about for a light in which the inevitable should appear a duty that he chose for himself to perform. More than ever he began to wonder whether his position were not a crime, and whether plain morality did not bid him resign and form a republic. The Marquis, with his revolutionary ideas, was naturally the man to help him along the road by which alone his moral escape could be made. He determined to lose no time in getting the help he expected, seeing that M. de Tricotrin, like all Frenchmen of fashion, was ready to express a passionate admiration of the American Constitution. "As a republic," said the Marquis, in answer to the King, "if I may so far express myself in your majesty's presence,--as a republic, I look upon it as one of the sublimest emanations of the human brain." "Pray do not apologise for your opinions," replied the King; "they are entirely in accord with my own. I myself regard a republic as an institution so divine that I am tempted to look upon a king as amongst the worst of criminals." "There," said the Marquis, with deferential positiveness, "your majesty, and I differ entirely. I look upon a king as the greatest of human benefactors." "But, my dear Marquis," said the King, "your two positions are flatly contradictory." "With submission," answered the Marquis, "it seems to me that one is the corollary of the other. It is because I so admire a republic that I also venerate the institution of hereditary monarchy." "I must positively congratulate you, Marquis," said the King, "on your inimitable genius for paradox. It is most wittily conceived; but, seriously, I want your opinion." "And seriously I give it you, sire," said the Marquis, in whose political programme the resignation of Kophetua found no place. "Then permit me to say," answered the King, "that I entirely fail to understand your opinion." "And yet," said the Marquis, "it is not so obscure. Your majesty will admit that the most perfect republic is that in which the greatest amount of power remains actually in the hands of the sovereign people in their corporate capacity." "Certainly," answered the King. "The less a constitution necessitates the delegation of authority to officers, and especially to a chief officer, the more perfectly republican it is." "Very well," pursued the Frenchman. "Then as a chief officer of some kind is necessary, the first question to solve is the manner of his appointment. Now if you elect him, it is certain that some real power will slip into his hands. It is even necessary that it should, in order to give dignity to the office. For since he is unadorned with the panoply of heredity, a lack of dignity will always be a difficulty about your elected chief officer. For the same reason the elective machinery must be such as to ensure, as far as is humanly possible, that the cleverest man in the state shall be chosen; otherwise your majesty sees that the government of which he is head will not receive the respect that is necessary to stability." "So far I perceive your meaning," answered the King. "It is that there is no instinctive reverence felt by the vulgar for an elected president. He is, as it were, a mere chip carved by the elective machine from the mass of the community. Therefore for sentimental reasons--that is, in order that he may be endowed with that weight of authority which is the mainspring of cheerful obedience to the law--it is necessary that he should be an extraordinary man, with extraordinary powers." "Exactly," said the Marquis; "and it is precisely there that you find the weak point of the non-monarchical republic, if your majesty will allow me the expression. It is a form of government which involves an almost fatal inconsistency. It gives you as a leading idea the election of one man in whom the ultimate legislative and administrative powers must be vested to a greater or less extent, and this very man is also, by the fundamental theory of the system, the most dangerous person to whom those powers can be committed, seeing that, as he is the citizen of the highest political ability, he is also the man best able to abuse them to his own advantage. I would submit then, sire, that this paradox, which is inherent in all constitutions like the American--although theoretically that is the best that was ever devised--is beyond expression more remarkable than that of which your majesty accuses me. It is a paradox which shows us how a kingless commonwealth is like an arch: apparently it is perfectly stable, and yet from the first day of its erection it is exerting a force which tends to its own destruction." "Well, I must admit," answered the King, "the existence of this paradox. You make it quite clear to me that it is a real objection to what you call a non-monarchical republic; but, at the same time, the vice is obviously far greater in an hereditary monarchy." "If your majesty will pardon me," replied the Marquis, who felt his blood getting up as his hobby pranced beneath him, "I think I can show you that this is not so." "If you can," answered the King, with some irritation at the disappointment he felt in his expected ally, "may I die if you could not show anything!" "And yet it is not so difficult," continued the Marquis. "Your majesty will observe, if I may so far presume in the cause of truth, that the real merit of hereditary monarchy in the eyes of all enlightened publicists is this: It involves the assumption that the chief officer of the state should always be a man of ordinary capacity, and, as far as possible, without political aspirations or abilities. That is the very essence of the hereditary principle." "Really, Marquis," said Kophetua, a little nettled, "it is a charming doctrine to address to a King." "Your majesty will pardon me," pursued the Marquis hastily, "in the cause of truth. We have arrived then at this position: A chief officer appointed on the hereditary principle is the best, as assuring the lowest possible intellect which we can reach without bringing the office into contempt; and thus we see that a limited monarchy, such as England or your majesty's own state, is the only true form of republic, in that it distinctly repudiates the idea that the head of the community is in any way its ruler, or fit to be its ruler." "In fact," said Kophetua bitterly, "we kings are only perfect in our imperfection, and useful in so far as we are useless." "God forbid that your majesty should put such a cynical paradox on me," cried the Marquis. "Your usefulness is extreme. The necessity for your perfection cannot be exaggerated. I have said that you represent the lowest point of capacity which is consistent with the safety of the state. It is there that you have the advantage over a president. In you the minimum of capacity may be extremely low without danger, seeing that there is a divinity clinging about the kingly office which is entirely absent from any elective magistrate. You are the visible emblem of law and order. You are instituted as the personification of loyalty. Without such a personification the feeling cannot exist amongst the vulgar. Precisely in the same way and on the same grounds wise men long ago invented God as a personification of morality. There is no visible reason why you should be head of the state more than any one else--an advantage which an elected officer of course cannot enjoy. In default of a visible reason, the people's instinctive faith in the existing institution invents for them one that is supernatural and mystic. You are to politics what the deity is to ethics, with the additional advantage that you really exist. No position could possibly be more respectable." "Or more degrading," Kophetua broke in. "It is a noble and inspiring conviction for a man that he is an idol to sit and wag his head when some one pulls the string." "Your majesty is unjustly severe upon the office," said the Marquis. "To me it is the most ennobling a man can hold; for it involves the duty of fostering a love of law and order by attaching the people to your own person by ties of affection. With action forbidden you, you have to make yourself popular and respected. It is a task of the utmost difficulty, and only to be accomplished by the highest nobility of character. It is a task," continued the Frenchman, with a profound bow, "in which your majesty has entirely succeeded. In you, at least, to resign would be criminal." "Marquis," said Kophetua, after a pause, with that expression of lofty sentiment which sometimes illumined his handsome face, "you give me the richest of gifts. You give me a new point of view, and from it I see a prospect of surpassing beauty." M. de Tricotrin's conversation with the King made him more eager than ever to win the assistance of Turbo. He had made another impression, he was sure. He had found the King quite content not to marry in the prospect of forming a republic. He had left him with the seed of a desire for a wife that he might continue to be a king. But Kophetua must not be left alone. He was a man, and had opinions. It was absolutely necessary to ensure that Turbo would cultivate instead of rooting out the good impression. Then, with Penelophon secretly removed out of the way--and the King need never know how it was done--the course would be clear for his own daughter. CHAPTER XV. TWO VICTIMS. "I doe rejoyce That you wil take me for your choyce, And my degree's so base." Considerable as was the anxiety which Count Kora's rout caused the Marquis de Tricotrin, his state of mind as he was carried home was enviable compared to that of his daughter. He at least had the relief of active scheming to console him, but she could only lean back in her chair and confess herself utterly miserable. So deep was her melancholy that she found herself wondering if she were not really in love with the handsome, high-souled Prince. But the thought had no sooner framed itself than a bitter smile crossed her beautiful face, and she mocked away the only consolation that could lighten her sorrow. "How I befool myself," she murmured, "to think I grieve for his love! It is for his power and his throne that I sigh. I know that well enough. It is all I care for." Poor Mlle de Tricotrin! She had long ceased to credit herself with one good thought, with one womanly motive. Her education had been such that it would have been strange if she had had any self-respect left. Deprived in babyhood of a mother's love and care, she had been left entirely in the hands of her selfish and ambitious father. He was a man no better, and perhaps not much worse, than his fellows--a self-seeking courtier, who clung with the rest to the sickly heart of France, and sucked its blood till the Revolution came and swept them all away, like the noxious parasites they were. Till then their one idea was to get a better place, where they could suck a fuller draught, and to that end they pushed and schemed and struggled, and thought no sacrifice too great. It was the "Court of Petticoats" where M. de Tricotrin strove with the rest. Women ruled supreme. Hitherto the Marquis had not been successful. He had learnt by bitter experience that the only path to wealth and fame lay in the track of a fascinating woman. But each of them had her crowd of jostling followers; and time after time, as he had tried to grasp the flying skirts, he had been thrust out and left behind. He was almost in despair when, after a long period of neglect, he chanced to visit his little motherless daughter at the convent where she was placed. She had grown from babyhood to be a lovely child since he had seen her last, and he at once recognised the promise of extraordinary beauty that she showed. A few hours spent with her assured him of the brightness of her wit and the fascination of her manners, and he saw that a new career and a new interest was before him. His determination was taken at once. She was removed from the convent and taken to Paris; for the Marquis had resolved to fit her for a position which was thoroughly understood in Paris alone. It was the position to which nothing was denied, to which all things were open. It was the throne before which the greatest, the most sagacious, the most upright, statesmen had to bow--before which even the proudest ecclesiastics would cringe like hounds. Who can wonder that when the brilliancy of the career was so dazzling, that the shame on which it rested could hardly be seen? For this, then, was Mlle de Tricotrin brought up. For this she was taught to struggle, heedless of all but the end. The only duty which she learned was to be beautiful; her only books were the philosophic chatter which was the fashion of the hour; her only friends were the creatures which that rotten society engendered, and which it seems profanity to call women. We have seen how the system succeeded. As the child came to womanhood, the Marquis knew his triumph had been greater than he had ever hoped. He saw his daughter courted and petted, and he laughed to see the skill and delight with which she played her part. For no one can blame the poor child that her head was turned. The extravagant admiration with which she was everywhere greeted told her that the most honoured and powerful position in France was almost within her grasp. Then came the crash. The long-nursed hopes were shattered to the ground, and father and daughter had to fly the country before the rising storms of the Revolution. In England M. de Tricotrin hoped to find a new arena for his child; but poor _émigrés_ were too plentiful, and English ideas so unintelligible, and he could nowhere find even a beginning. Broken in hopes and health, he was forced at last to the South, as we have seen. It could hardly be that, to a girl of Mlle de Tricotrin's natural refinement, moments of regret and repentance did not sometimes come; but they had always been stifled with the excitement of her personal triumphs. To win the power that belongs by nature to men, she had been trained to fling away the most precious treasures of women, and she did it with a light heart in the intoxication of the game. But when the lull came her self-reproach grew so constant as to be almost a pain, and so infected her as to become something she could not entirely throw off again. The pure presence and innocent talk of Penelophon had only served to make her trouble more distinct. The beggar-maid was the first real woman she had ever known, and for the first time her own womanliness was really aroused in sympathy. She could see clearly what she was, and felt she could never be otherwise now. She despised herself, and knew the only solace was to brazen out her base career bravely. So she rejoiced cynically over the influence she was winning with Kophetua, and despised herself in secret too much to allow there was anything good in her joy. In marrying him she would gain the queenly power for which she had struggled so hard, and for which everything had been sacrificed; and in marrying him she would also escape the path of shame, by which alone she thought the goal was to be reached. Which thought was it that made her heart ache so as she reached her room that night, and saw how she was losing him? Who shall tell? Who can read aright the thoughts that vexed that lovely figure which had thrown itself in weary grace upon the soft divan? How can a thing so beautiful know the ugliness of sorrow? Yet it is there, and tells her that Kophetua is slipping from her hands, that life will be unendurable without him, and worst of all--worst of all, the only voice to which she has ever been taught to listen is whispering the old things in her ears. It is whispering what it is that has come between her and her end. She looks down at herself where she sits and thinks; she sees the gleaming beauty of her restless breasts, and the soft white arms and the obedient folds that wrap so closely the voluptuous figure; but the voice only whispers it is all of no avail. There is something between her and him; something which draws his eyes from her; something she has in her power to sweep away at a word. Even as she wondered what childish scruples or silly affection it was that made her hesitate, the door opened and her father broke into the midst of her temptation. For a while he held the door in his hand, and stood admiring her as she lay curled upon the divan. At last she looked up at him with a deep-drawn breath, as though to brace herself for the crisis she saw was at hand. "My child," said the Marquis, as he caught her glance, "you did not look well to-night. Are you ill?" "No, sir." "Was not the King pleased with you, then?" "No, sir." "That is most unfortunate," said the Marquis, in a feigned tone of extreme anxiety. "He was in a very strange humour to-night." "Yes, sir?" said Mlle de Tricotrin, assuming an air of complete indifference. "He spoke to me in a very extraordinary manner," continued her father. "It causes me no inconsiderable anxiety." "What did he say, sir?" said she, apparently as little concerned as ever. M. de Tricotrin told his daughter all the opinions which the King had expressed to him, and which led him to believe that he had determined to remain a bachelor, and let things take their course; but he omitted all the arguments by which he considered he had so successfully opposed the King's intention. "So you see, my dear," he concluded, "that our Quixotic Kophetua is bent on abdication and a republic." Mlle de Tricotrin had listened attentively as her father unfolded to her the King's indifference as to whether he reigned or not. It was the last blow on her already shattered resolution. She saw one more guarantee of her ultimate success disappearing. Though she could not own it to herself, the very loftiness and unselfishness of the King's ideas made her desire him more. It was more than she could bear, added to the load of temptation under which she already struggled. Suddenly laying aside her indifference, she started up in her seat, and, with a violent gesture, cried out, "He shall not abdicate!" "How will you prevent it?" asked the Marquis, unmoved. "I cannot prevent it; but Turbo can, and he shall!" "But you forget there is a price to pay first, my child." "No, I do not, sir. I remember it very well. It is not a thing to forget so soon. Bad as you have made me, I have not yet been guilty of so many sins that this one should be lost in the throng." "Well, well, my child, we need not go into ethics now. Do I understand that you mean to pay the Chancellor his price." "I do." "I congratulate you on your good sense." "I want no congratulations. I only want a throne; and for that I am ready to disgrace myself, as you have taught me, sir. So if you will tell me how this business is to be arranged, it shall be done." "Turbo will be in the street on which the little garden door opens. You can send her to him with a note, and he will manage the rest. See, here is a letter that I have already prepared." "What is in it, sir?" "Nothing; it is a mere pretence." "Does he really mean to come in person?" "Yes; it is more than he can afford to intrust his secret to another." "When will he be here?" "In a quarter of an hour." "Then pray leave me, sir, and I will see that she is there too." "My child," said the Marquis, laying his hand with awkward affection on the warm brown hair, "I am very pleased with you. I have never seen you more sensible." She shook his hand off with a gesture of disgust, and with a shrug he left the room. It was some time before she could gather her cruelty sufficiently to summon Penelophon. She knew well enough that the indignation with which she had at first repudiated her father's suggestion was due to the beneficent influence which the purity and innocence of her handmaid had upon her. She had been talking to her then, and the charming sweetness of her presence had expelled the devil she had taken to herself. That influence away, the sight of what she longed for still receding, had brought the evil spirit back, and she had resolved that this thing should cease. Whether Penelophon appeared to her as an actual obstacle in the path of her ambition, or as a siren who beckoned her away from the worldly road in which alone she had faith, it was clear that the girl must be cast away. And, after all, where was the crime? Penelophon would only go to a lot which she herself had lived for. It was only the child's silly prudery that frightened her. But that would soon pass. Yet, how the poor thing loathed the man to whom she was sold, and how she adored him who had saved her from his embraces! And no wonder, when he had dared so much to make the rescue. That was it. He, her own King, had dared too much for the girl. She could not forgive her for that; and, resolved at last, she clapped her hands. Penelophon answered to the call immediately; and the sight of her delicate form in the doorway disturbed her mistress strangely. She looked so tender and fragile a thing to be flung out, as it were, to the beasts; and the iniquity of Mlle de Tricotrin's resolve grew very distinct to her. To add to her mistress's distress, the girl came forward with the same glad smile with which she always greeted the summons of her idolised protector; and Mlle de Tricotrin's heart beat faster at the sight of her devotion. "Will you undress now?" asked Penelophon, as her mistress only looked at her and did not speak. "Not yet, Penelophon," was the answer. "I have something I want you to do. It is a little thing, and yet my happiness depends upon it." "Will it bring Trecenito nearer to you, then?" asked Penelophon. "Yes, it will bring him nearer--very near indeed, Penelophon." "And you will let me do this little thing?" said the maid. "Yes," answered Mlle de Tricotrin; "it is you I ask to do it, because I know how you love me." "Ah!" cried Penelophon, clasping her hands before her mistress, in an attitude of glad devotion; "but I wish it were a great thing you asked of me, and then I could show you indeed how I love you and him." "Nay, there is no need," said Mlle de Tricotrin, feeling that a choking sensation was coming in her throat. "I know how you love us, and long to see us one; and now I have but a little thing for you to do." "What must it be, then?" "Only to take a note to a man who is waiting in the street by the little garden door." "What, now? to-night? in the dark?" exclaimed Penelophon, her great dark eyes dilating with sudden fear. "Yes, now. You are not afraid of the dark?" "No; but I dread what is in the dark," the girl answered, shuddering. "Why, what is it you fear?" "It is a terrible thing. You cannot know how terrible. It is wrapped in a cloak, and it limps as it goes, and it glares at me. Even in my own soft bed at your feet it glares at me, so that I have to creep close to you before it will go away." "Why, child, that is only a baby's fancy. You will not meet it," answered Mlle de Tricotrin, steadying her voice with difficulty; for her breath was coming thick, and her heart was beating fast, to see the poor girl's terror. "Yes, I know," answered Penelophon, in an awe-hushed voice; "but as I looked at the stars just now, and wondered which was yours, and which was Trecenito's, and which was my little one, I saw it pass under the window. It limped and glared, and was wrapped in its cloak. Oh, I saw it!" she cried, again covering her face in terror,--"I saw it, and it will be there to glare at me when I open the gate. Oh, I dare not go! Can you not send another?" "No, Penelophon," said her mistress, after a pause; for she was hardly able to speak in her growing agitation. "It is only you that will do. I promised you should take the letter, as a token that it came indeed from me. So be brave, child. On you it all depends. Be brave this once, and then Trecenito will be mine, and we shall both be always with him." The iniquitous deceit of her words seemed to stab her like a knife, and for shame she dared not so much as look at her humble maid. She felt that one more of those devoted, trusting looks from the girl's dog-like eyes would overcome her. So she did not see how Penelophon drew herself up and set her lips, and she was surprised to hear her speak quite calmly and cheerfully again. "And will it really bring you and Trecenito together if I go?" she said. "Yes," answered her mistress; "and it is the only thing that will." "Then I will go," said Penelophon. "Where is the note I shall take?" "I will write it," said her mistress. The sight of the maid she loved so well--and yet, as she thought, had such cause to hate--and the devotion with which she overcame her terror, had softened Mlle de Tricotrin out of her former hard mood, although she knew it was only the girl's deep love for Kophetua that gave her the strength she showed. Still she was softened, and determined not to let her go without one little attempt to lighten the terrible lot to which she was condemning her. So she reached to the dwarf table beside the divan, and wrote on the blank paper which her father had given her this short note:-- "Here is the price you ask for your adhesion. Use her kindly, as you value the love of "HÉLOISE DE TRICOTRIN." She folded the note and addressed it; but her heart beat so hard and her breath came so thick that she could not speak as she handed it to Penelophon. The girl took it, kissed the white hand that gave it, and then turned to go. It was well-nigh more than Mlle de Tricotrin could endure to see such simple faith and love in her victim, and a tear had fallen on the hand the maid had kissed. There came to her a sudden sense that she was looking for the last time on the child in whom she had found the only pure delight she could ever remember, who had shown her how holy is the unstained soul of a woman, who had made her almost feel worthy to be a true wife to Kophetua. She could not let her part so to the sacrifice, where the poor lamb was to lose all that she might win her little end; and suddenly she started to her feet. "Penelophon!" she cried, in a strange, unnatural voice, in spite of a great effort to control herself. The girl came back directly, looking anxiously into her mistress's troubled face. Then Mlle de Tricotrin saw how the dark eyes were brimming with tears, and in an uncontrollable impulse she threw her arms about the beggar-maid's neck, and kissed her passionately on either cheek. "Now begone quickly," she said to the wondering girl; and Penelophon, in a transport of delight at her mistress's affection, tripped lightly away to the garden. For a moment Mlle de Tricotrin stood with hard-clenched hands, and stared at the door that had closed on her victim. Then a convulsive sob shook her lovely form, and she cast herself prostrate upon the divan in an agony of tears. CHAPTER XVI. A NIGHT MARCH. "The beggar blusheth scarlet red, And straight againe as pale as lead, She was in such amaze." With her terror almost forgotten in the memory of her mistress's caress, Penelophon ran down into the garden, and kept on bravely till she came to the little door which led out into the street. Here she paused; for so great was the horror she felt for the world outside ever since the terrible night on which the King had rescued her, that it was all she could do to find courage enough to open it. She could not persuade herself that the eyes were not waiting to glare at her on the other side; but at last she hardened her poor fluttering heart to lift the latch and look out. It was very dark. There was no light but what the stars gave, and a dim old oil lamp that swung groaning on a chain across the road. She could see nothing of what she dreaded, and this gave her heart to step out into the street to find the man who was to receive the note. In her anxiety to get her painful duty over, she went as far as where the street turned round the corner of the garden to see if he were coming. Not a trace of any one could she detect; so, putting the note into her bosom, she flitted back, to wait a little within the shelter of the door. She had hardly reached it when she stopped, frozen with horror. The door was shut, and out of the dark recess where it was the thing she dreaded was looking at her. That was all she could see. If the glaring presence had any form, it was hidden in the black shadow of the doorway. Only the two eyes burned, with a dim and terrible glow which paralysed her. She knew not what to do. She dared not approach the thing for fear it would take hold of her, and her limbs refused to fly. At last there was a low hoarse chuckle of satisfied greed, which made the blood fly to her face, as it recalled a memory of her day of terror. She found the light of the lamp was falling full on her, so that the eyes could see her well, and that suddenly gave her strength to turn and run. The thing sprang out after her with another coarse chuckle; but she ran on bravely. Soon she heard the deep-drawn breath of her pursuer sounding hoarsely behind. Closer and closer it drew, and made her feet feel like lead. She was like one in a fevered dream, when at the critical moment the limbs refused their office. With the blank dread we only know in distempered slumber, she fancied she was falling, when the hoarse breath all at once was at her ear, and the thing seized her. She tried to scream; but her despairing cry was choked by a hood that was drawn tightly over her face. The monster's arms clasped her about roughly, and she felt herself hurried along in spite of her frantic struggles to escape. Turbo had her safely at last. He laughed to himself, and cracked coarse jokes to his burden as he limped hastily along. He was a strong man in spite of his deformity, and Penelophon soon desisted from her hopeless resistance, so that it was not long before he reached the street in which his own house stood. His fiendish glee increased as he saw himself so near his end; but suddenly he stopped, and a low curse hissed on his snarling lips. For even as he entered the street the cheerful clatter of horses' feet at the other end of it fell on his ear. What could they be? There were many together, and that was a sound that was never heard in the capital at night. Still they were coming towards him, whatever they were; and he hurried on, hoping to reach his own door before they would see him. There was plenty of time if he made haste; but all at once it seemed that the same sounds had reached his burden's ear, for she began struggling again desperately. He could hold her no longer, and was obliged to put her down. Now he could hear the clink of steel as well as the tramp of hoofs; and, uttering furious threats beneath his breath, he tried to drag Penelophon along; but his anger and frantic efforts were useless. All he could do was to get with his charge against the wall of his garden, when he was surrounded by some dozen horsemen. Then he cursed himself again; for he knew he had encountered the first detachment of the frontier gendarmerie, whom, by his own encouragement, Kophetua had ordered to be concentrated on the capital. It had been arranged that they were to enter the city by night as quietly as possible, in order that the beggars might take no alarm. That had been his own suggestion; and here was the end of it. Still he determined to brave it through, and cried out to them to know what they did hustling an honest man and his child at that time of night. "Soho! my night-hawk," cried the officer of the party, in a round laughing voice; "is that your note? 'Sblood! then we'll sing a chorus, for 'tis ours too." The troopers all laughed together at their leader's wit, and Turbo eyed his man to see what stuff was in him. It was too dark to make out his face under the high-plumed helmet which he seemed to wear so jauntily, but the Chancellor could see he was a tall fellow, who sat his horse with a defiant air. His toes were stretched out impudently in the stirrups, and his right arm was well bowed, and rested knuckles down on his thigh, with quite a splendid swagger. Altogether he looked formidable enough as he sat laughing on his tall horse, with the brilliant uniforms and glittering accoutrements of his men faintly discernible in a semicircle at his back. "My note is low enough," said the Chancellor, with affected humility, when his inspection and the laughter were done. "I only ask to pass on quietly with my daughter." "So you shall, my bully, when we know why you tie up pretty faces in hoods, and why pretty figures struggle in your arms. So come, my bully night-hawk, unhood, unhood!" "I tell you it is but my daughter!" cried Turbo angrily. "Let me pass, or the King shall hear of it!" "Ho-ho!" cried the officer, as merrily as ever. "Will a beggar out of bounds try to frighten the King's own Gendarmerie of the Guard with the King's own name. No, no, my joker; come, give her up." Penelophon gave a start as she heard the officer's words, and tried to tear the hood from her head. Turbo dragged her roughly behind him, and stood confronting the officer, who spurred his horse forward. "Stand back!" cried Turbo; "stand back, at your peril! I am the Chancellor. Can you not see? Stand back! I command you." "And I, sink me!" cried the officer, drawing his sabre, "am the king, and the general, and the beggar emperor all in one; so let her go, and take that for your insolent lie." As he uttered the word, he gave the Chancellor a wringing blow across the shoulders with the flat of his sabre. Turbo drew back; but the officer spurred on to repeat the chastisement. "Let her go, you scurvy hound! Let her go, I say! or, 'sblood! you shall have the edge." Turbo saw but one way to escape the now infuriated soldier. In a frenzy of passion to be so balked again, he brutally thrust the blinded girl before the restive horse, so that to avoid trampling on her the officer had to curb it on to its haunches. With ungainly activity the Chancellor took advantage of the delay to spring along the wall towards the spot where, as in all the houses in the city, a door gave him admission into his own garden. "Stop the cur! stop him!" cried the officer. "Cut him down, or anything. Zounds! will you let him laugh at our noses like this?" Two men wheeled like hawks at the hurrying Chancellor with uplifted sabres. In another instant it seemed he must be slashed with the gleaming blade that was nearest him, when suddenly he stopped and turned. There was a flash, a sharp report, a cloud of smoke, and the gendarme threw up his hands with a choking cry. The officer dashed to his side to seize the assassin; but as he cleared the smoke he found the man he sought had vanished. At the door which he fancied he had heard shut he drew rein. It was there he suspected the man had escaped him, and leaping from his saddle, he applied his head to the keyhole and listened intently. The sound of halting footsteps within fell faintly on his ear, and he shifted his attitude to hear better. Presently he drew back into the middle of the street, carefully surveyed the premises, and after giving a long low whistle to himself, he returned to the wounded man with a very serious air. Three or four saddles were empty, and a sergeant who was kneeling by a motionless body looked up as his commander drew near. "Is he hurt?" asked the officer. The sergeant did not answer, but slowly removed his helmet. The officer and all the men did the same, and stood round in silence, till the dying man gave a shudder and then lay quite still. "Right lung, sir," said the sergeant laconically. "Well, get him across his saddle," said the officer, "while I look to the girl." She was still lying motionless where she had fallen, as though she had been struck with the horse's feet, or else was stifled with the hood that muffled her face. First he felt her pulse, and having ascertained that she was still alive, uncovered her head to let her breathe freely. She opened her eyes almost directly, and the officer gazed at her pale face with great interest. As he examined her attentively by the light of a lantern which the sergeant now brought, his eye fell upon the note which still remained where Penelophon had placed it. He took it quietly, and read the address by the lantern light. "To his Excellency the High Chancellor." With no more show of interest than another low whistle betokened, he put it deliberately into his sabretache, and proceeded to revive his patient. She seemed to come round very slowly; so he gave the word to fall in, mounted his horse, and ordered Penelophon to be lifted up in front of him. He had excellent reasons for taking charge of her himself. As soon as they were started again, the motion of the horse seemed to revive the fainting girl; but still she sat quite quiet, nestling with complete confidence in the officer's arms, and leaning her head upon his breast. Presently she gave a long sigh of contentment, and looked up in his face with her big dark eyes. "Did you not say you were Trecenito's soldier?" she asked. "Yes, pretty one. What of that?" answered the soldier. "Ah! I thought I remembered that," she replied dreamily. "I knew you would come!" "The devil you did, child!" exclaimed the soldier. "Yes; I knew Trecenito would send you to take me away from that thing." "He is always kind, and loves his people," said the officer vaguely, to humour her. "Is he? I don't know. But he is always kind to me, and loves me. So I knew he would send you if he could not come himself, as he did before." "Did he come himself before?" asked the officer, in incredulous astonishment. "Yes; and he will be so pleased with you when he knows you have saved me." The soldier could only give another long whistle, which seemed a habit with him. He began to find himself the possessor of a very mysterious case, which might turn out to his immense credit, or the reverse, and he felt the necessity of care and his utmost detective ability. "Are you taking me back to my mistress," asked Penelophon, after a pause. "Who is your mistress?" "Mlle de Tricotrin. She who will be 'Trecenita.'" "No; I cannot take you to her," answered the officer, for whom this new complication was almost overwhelming; "but I will take you to a safe place till Trecenito tells me what to do." "Very well," said Penelophon contentedly, and she laid her head down on his broad breast again. He was sorely tempted to kiss the delicate face just once. It was so quiet and peaceful and childlike; but somehow she was so trusting and mysterious that he took a better view and refrained. Yet it must be said that he was not sorry when, after a half-hour's ride, they reached an old hunting lodge in a remote part of the royal park, which was to be their quarters. Here he put temptation out of his way by locking her in a little room which had been prepared for his own use, and giving the key to the sergeant to keep. Nor did he regret his cautious action, when shortly afterwards he took an opportunity of opening the note of which he had taken possession. It seemed entirely to confirm the girl's words and his own impression--that somewhere there was some foul play to the advantage of the Chancellor, whom he did not like, and to the detriment of Kophetua, to whom he was devoted. Then a serious crime had been committed, which must inevitably become public. One of the gendarmes of the guard had been assassinated. He had noticed windows opening after the pistol-shot. The whole affair was almost sure to leak out. To hush the matter up until he could receive personal instructions from the King was probably impossible. But then, on the other hand, there were circumstances which told him that a discreet secrecy was the line of conduct which would be most likely to commend him to all the parties implicated, and to lead to promotion. At a loss what course to take, he finally, like the sensible fellow he was, determined to do his plain duty, and report the whole affair to the commander-in-chief the first thing on the following morning. CHAPTER XVII. "CHECK!" "O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof." The King next morning was pacing his library with unquiet step. He was disgusted with every one and all the world, and with nothing so much as himself. To begin with, the Marquis de Tricotrin's disquisition on the kingly office had made a deep and unpleasant impression upon him. He felt the Frenchman was perfectly right in all he had said, and that a king, to do his duty, must be practically a nonentity. It was like a crown to his old trouble. Long he had grieved over his enforced inaction, and now, just when he hoped to find an escape, and spread his wings as wide as King Stork, he found himself crowned King Log by the very hand, by the very facts, by the cogency of the very philosophy in which he had put his trust. It was true that the Marquis had suggested to him a path by which he might still climb to the far-off heights on which his eyes were always fixed; but yet he knew it was only done to amuse him, to get him, as it were, out of the way. He was man of the world enough to know that M. de Tricotrin could not have meant what he said. And yet, was it not the truth? Was not the sublime life, after all, the life of moral influence rather than the life of action? Was it not a grander thing to implant a living spirit of nobility into his people than to try and amend them by what were only little bits of tinkering after all? Yes; no doubt the Marquis was right unconsciously; but how to live the life he praised? Alone, without sympathy, without encouragement, he could not do it, and there was no one to whom he could go and say, "Help me!" There was no one who would even understand what he meant. At least only one, and since last night she was cut off as far as the rest. Ah! if she had only been what he had almost thought her, how all his troubles would have been ended? At last he might have ceased to resist the snares and cunning of the heartless daughters of Eve; he might have taken the lovely woman in his arms, to find in her beauty and refinement, in her spiritual influence and tender sympathy, the divine secret of the noble life. All that was wanting in him she would have supplied; and when those soft eyes lit up with the light of love, as they watched the efforts which she inspired, and which she alone could understand, it would be reward and encouragement enough to lead him ever onward, upward, hand in hand with her. But there were no such women now. It was only a boyish dream to think of it; and it only made him angrier with himself to recognise how much her sympathy must have been to him, since now that he had lost it he could muse so childishly. He laughed bitterly to think of himself like a baby crying for the moon, or at least for something as pure and gentle and serenely bright, and as far off and as impossible to attain. He strode to the window to watch those that came and went at the palace gates, and so dissolve his thoughts. The beggars were crouching there as usual in the blazing sunlight, making deep-blue shadows under their broad hats and voluminous turbans and tattered cloaks. Here and there a leg or an arm, or a shaggy breast, baked to a ruddy brown, gave a glowing bit of colour amidst the grey of filth; and here and there in the blue shadows a forbidding face could be dimly seen distorted and screwed into deep-marked wrinkles, to keep out the fierce glare which beat on them from the parched roadway and the dusty walls. Like all who pretended to any taste at that time, the King was an authority on _chiaroscuro_, and was never tired of studying the picture at his gates. But to-day it brought no sense of art. It only raised again the memory of Penelophon, and then all at once perfect purity and gentleness and the serenity of an unsullied soul seemed close within his grasp. It almost alarmed him to find how that which had been a mere fancy was growing in his mind to be a possibility. He began to think his senses must be strangely unhinged if for one moment he could harbour the preposterous thought that perhaps here after all was what he sought. The painting above the hearth seemed to be gaining over him the mystic influence which he had always permitted to the old knight's armour. In vain he recalled the beggar-maid in her dirt and ignorance; in vain he told himself it could never be as long as reason remained to him. Still the prospect would always be returning to him, and at each return it gained new strength. He was turning away from the window that he might not see the beggars any longer, when a commotion amongst them attracted his attention. The bright lights and blue shadows and bits of warm colour broke up and intermingled into new combinations as they lazily scrambled together to pick up some coins that had been flung to them; and then he saw hurry by them the beautiful figure of Mlle de Tricotrin. She was coming for her morning walk, which she always took now, at his invitation, in the shady alleys of the palace gardens. He marked her downcast looks, the graceful folds of her clinging gown, gathered daintily at her breast with a flowing knot of ribbon, and the gentle refinement which her every movement told of. He watched her as she passed beneath his window, and felt his eyes dim at the sight of the marvellous beauty that could never be his. Suddenly she raised her head to look up where he was, and ere he could withdraw their eyes had met. He had seen the sad, pleading look beneath the dark lashes; he had seen the soft flush that spread over the matchless face; he had seen the shapely head bowed again in deepest resignation down upon the troubled breast as she passed on from the cold, unanswering look he gave her; and now he was pacing the room again in strange agitation. Could such beauty be the outward sign of the baseness which he had been taught to believe in? If one woman could be as good and pure and gentle as Penelophon, why should not another? Why should not this one? If she had jarred upon him so last night, did it not show that she was not the perfect schemer he had thought her? A knock at the door came to his relief. It was the Chancellor's hour of audience, and Turbo entered as calm and snarling and business-like as ever. "Good morning, Chancellor," said the King, as usual. "Is there any business?" "None, sire," answered Turbo--"at least, none of mine; but I believe General Dolabella has something to report." "Why, what is that?" exclaimed the King. "Oh, nothing, I fancy," said the Chancellor. "Some blunder of the officer in command of the party of gendarmes who arrived last night. There was a stupid brawl with the townsfolk, or something of that kind." "But that seems to me serious," said the King, "considering how necessary secrecy is to my purpose. Let him be admitted at once." General Dolabella was ushered in, wearing a look of tremendous mystery and importance, and with official brevity reported that a party of gendarmes arriving in the city during the previous night had encountered a man maltreating a girl, and that in endeavouring to arrest him and prevent further violence, one of the privates had been shot dead by the miscreant; "and if your majesty pleases," concluded the General, with an even greater air of mystery than before, "the officer is in attendance to give further details." "I will question him immediately," said the King. "Would your majesty wish to make the examination in private?" said Turbo. "If so, I will retire." "I see no occasion," answered the King, before the commander-in-chief could interpose. "Besides, I shall probably need your assistance. Let the officer enter." The hero of the last night's adventure was at once introduced. He saluted the King with spirit, and then stood rigidly at attention, without in the least noticing the Chancellor. "This is a most grave affair, sir," began the King. "Have you any light to throw on the parties concerned?" "I believe, sire, I have identified the girl," replied the gendarme. "And who do you suppose she is?" "She is a servant of Mlle de Tricotrin. "In what capacity?" "I do not know, sire; but it may elucidate the point if I inform your majesty of a curious statement she made to me." "Well, sir, proceed," said the King, as the officer hesitated. "She spoke very strangely," replied the gendarme, "of having been rescued from some danger by your majesty." "And what of the man?" asked the King, endeavouring to conceal his interest. "As to that, I cannot speak with such certainty," answered the officer. "But of what kind was he?" "He was dressed, sire, like a beggar." "Hear, Chancellor! hear, General! to what a pitch of insolence these wretches are coming!" said the King hotly. "It is growing past bearing. We have not acted a moment too soon." "Not a moment," said the General. "Not a moment, I quite agree," said the Chancellor. "If you could recognise the man," pursued the King. "I would have him arrested at once." "It is possible, sire, that I might," said the officer, as rigid as ever. "He was a beggar with a limp, deformed shoulders, and a peculiarly educated voice for one of his class. And, further, I think I can tell your majesty where to inquire for him." "What do you mean, sir?" said the King. "Proceed as shortly as possible." "He took refuge in the High Chancellor's garden," said the officer. "Are you sure of this?" asked the King, growing suddenly calm. "I took particular pains not to be mistaken, sire," answered the gendarme, "because the fellow had the impudence to say he was the Chancellor himself." "What is the meaning of this?" said the King, turning on the Chancellor. "A lie to cover a lamentable piece of incompetency, I should say," said Turbo coolly. "That, sire, is a very natural solution for his excellency to offer," said the General, coming with subdued excitement to the aid of his subordinate; "but it hardly explains the fact that this note, directed in Mlle de Tricotrin's hand to his excellency, was found upon this unfortunate girl." With all his self-control Turbo could not suppress an uneasy movement as the General produced the little note and handed it to the King. In the excitement of having the girl in his power he had quite forgotten this part of the arrangement, and so had omitted to possess himself of the evidence of Mlle de Tricotrin's treachery. "It appears to be meant for you, Chancellor," said the King quietly, passing on the note to him. "You see?" Turbo took it and read it through with deliberation. "It was intended for me, sire," he said imperturbably. "Then the beggar who was guilty of this crime," said the King, with affected calm, "is no other than the High Chancellor of Oneiria." "Your majesty's conjecture is perfectly correct," replied Turbo, who saw that all hope of concealment was now at an end. "Before Heaven, this is too much!" exclaimed Kophetua, still in a well-controlled voice, but growing white with anger. "General Dolabella, you will arrest his excellency." The General came forward with an uneasy air to receive the Chancellor's sword. Turbo drew it quietly from its sheath, and presented it with elaborate politeness. "Shall I take his excellency's parole?" asked the General, "or will your majesty?" "Neither, sir," answered the King. "You will call a guard, and remove him to the Tower immediately." The General, after looking at the King for a moment in blank amazement, bowed, and despatched the officer for some files of the Palace Watch. A distressing silence followed his departure, which Turbo seemed to enjoy immensely, till at last he broke it himself. "I do not wish," said he, with affected humility, "to complain of your majesty's vigour. In my old pupil I can only warmly admire it. But as your majesty has adopted this spirited course, I would beg the privilege of the meanest prisoner, and demand on what charge I am arrested." "You may inform the prisoner," said the King, addressing Dolabella, "that he is arrested on confession of murder and abduction." "Your majesty is extremely kind," answered Turbo, "and it is only right that I should show my sense of your clemency by letting you know that you are acting in error both of law and fact." "I must beg," said Kophetua, "that all further communication between us shall be made through the proper channel." "As your majesty pleases," replied the Chancellor. "But as your experience in these matters is not extensive, I thought I could save your majesty from an undignified position, and from the publication of matters which you would prefer to have concealed. If you would read this note, sire, you would see at once what I mean." Kophetua was, in spite of himself, impressed by the calmness of the Chancellor, and, moreover, was sensible of considerable curiosity to see what Mlle de Tricotrin could have written to him. So he took the note, and read it with a shock that he was not fully sensible of till some time after. "You see, sire," said the Chancellor, "this girl had been lawfully assigned to me in writing. Your majesty is too well aware of the paternal nature of the laws regulating domestic service in this country to be ignorant that I was within my rights in using reasonable violence to compel a servant so assigned to assume her duties. The interference of the gendarmerie was, therefore, quite illegal, and the homicide which I unfortunately committed a justifiable act of self-defence." Poor Kophetua! He saw in a moment how precipitate he had been. He saw that the Chancellor was perfectly right. Technically no offence whatever had been committed, and even had there been one, he confessed it would have been impossible to charge the Chancellor with it. For if he were to put Turbo on his trial, the whole circumstances of his own connection with Penelophon must inevitably come to light. And what was worse, Mlle de Tricotrin's conduct could not be concealed. Abominable as it was in Kophetua's eyes, still his perhaps fantastic sense of chivalry forbade him to expose her. After all, it was only for him another example of what must be expected from the levity and weakness of women; it was a thing to shield, and not to resent. As the bitter truth flashed through his mind, and he recognised the full meaning of the infamous plot, a sense of despair possessed him--a sense of incompetency, of powerlessness, of utter disappointment, which told him his struggle was hopeless, that it was wisdom to yield. "General Dolabella," he said at last, after some moments of silence, "this document reveals to me circumstances which render it necessary to proceed in this matter with extreme caution." "Yes, sire?" replied the General, in a tone of innocent inquiry, as if he were quite unaware of the contents of the compromising document. "They are circumstances," continued the King, "opening up a prospect the painfulness of which can only be increased by any precipitate action." "What steps then," asked the General, "would your majesty desire me to take?" "I desire you to take none," answered Kophetua. "I desire you to retrace those you have already taken." This the King said with the air of having given his instructions; and the commander-in-chief, after a moment's hesitation, as though not quite sure of his sovereign's meaning, advanced to Turbo, and with a profound bow handed him back his sword; but the Chancellor stood with his hands behind him, without making the slightest motion of accepting the proffered weapon. "His majesty," he said, with a malicious look at Kophetua, "is making another mistake. It is not such a little matter for a king to arrest his chief minister. So bold a stride is not so easily retraced. There is danger even for a monarch in playing with edged tools. I, the High Chancellor of Oneiria, have suffered the disgrace of a public arrest. By this time our zealous gendarme may have spread the news all over the palace. His majesty must see that the affront I have suffered is not to be expiated by an offhand return of my sword, and I refuse to accept it." The poor General stood holding out the slender weapon, and feeling very foolish, which indeed was no more than he looked. It was a situation of extreme sweetness to Turbo, and the King tried hastily to end it. "Chancellor," said he peremptorily, "take your sword. It is I, the King, who command you." "With great submission to your majesty," answered Turbo, without moving, "you have no power to command this." "Why, what folly is this?" cried the King. "It is I who took away your liberty, and it is I who have power to give it back." "Your majesty will pardon me," said Turbo. "You had power to arrest me. You have exercised that power, and there your prerogative ends. I am now in the bosom of the law, which is above your majesty, nor can you take me from it without its consent or mine. If I have contravened any term of the Social Contract, by my arrest you have invoked the jurisdiction by which alone such breaches may be considered. We are King and subject no longer. We are parties to a suit. The tribunal of eternal justice stands between us, and to that I appeal." "General Dolabella!" exclaimed the King abruptly, "have the kindness to leave us for a few minutes." The General retired, and master and pupil were left confronting each other, like gladiators seeking for a favourable moment to close. "What do you mean by all this?" asked the King, in a low, calm voice. "Just now you wished to save us all from having this miserable business brought to light." "And I am still willing to do so," answered Turbo. "Then why refuse to receive your sword?" asked Kophetua. "Why all this nonsense about demanding a trial?" "Sire," said the Chancellor, "upon this affair we have thrown off all disguise. I will continue, then, to be frank. You want this beggar-maid, so do I. I do not seek to deny it. I am in a position to demand terms of you, and I ask for her." "Do I understand you to say," said the King, "that it is only on the surrender of this unhappy girl that you will forego your right to an inquiry." "Your majesty takes my meaning accurately," answered Turbo. Kophetua did not answer. The two paths opened before him, and he knew not which to take. Upon neither could he go without irreparable injury to a woman. By the one he must condemn Penelophon to the hateful lot from which he had rescued her; by the other he must expose the iniquitous conduct of Mlle de Tricotrin, to say nothing of the Quixotic part he himself had played in the drama, which every one would misunderstand, and of which he felt heartily ashamed. Still, that was but a little thing. Had he had himself alone to consider, he would not have hesitated, painful as the ridicule would have been which the exposure of his boyish knight-errantry must have entailed. It was for Mlle de Tricotrin that he felt. He held the secret of her shameless perfidy, and his whole nature revolted from making it known. It was well enough to chatter lightly of women's worthlessness, but when it came to laying bare before the world the infamy of a tender, gentle thing like this, one whom he had deemed his friend, it seemed an action so unmanly, so unchivalrous, so cowardly, that he could not bring himself to do it. She deserved it all, and more; he knew that well enough. Nothing could have been more detestable in his eyes than what she had done. Yet who would befriend her or pity her if he gave her up. The more he thought of her crime the greater it seemed; but that only brought a stronger reason for shielding her from its consequences, and he resolved to shield her. But then the alternative--to betray the very incarnation of his ideal of womanhood to what for her was worse than hell itself; to shake off the delicate despairing suppliant who had clung to him so trustingly. No, that was impossible too. He was at his wits' end, and Turbo knew it well as he watched his sovereign's silence with his snarling smile. "Chancellor," said Kophetua at last, "I will consider your terms. Meanwhile, I would request you to receive your sword, and confine yourself to your house till I come to a determination." "Your majesty must pardon me," replied Turbo, "if I insist on my rights, unless you pass your word to me at this moment to accept my condition." Kophetua's face changed to an expression which Turbo had never seen there. There was within his pupil a smouldering fire. The soft gales which had hitherto stirred his soul had never fanned it into a blaze. It was the sacred fire which had been kindled in the hour of his birth; it was the immortal spark which had been handed on from descendant to descendant, down from the very flame that had burned in the heart of the old knight. As Kophetua sank deeper and deeper in desperation, and struggled to find an escape, he looked ever into the shadow beneath the ancient morion. The grim face grew very distinct there, and as Turbo spoke his last word it seemed to look down at the King with an expression where sorrow struggled with contempt, and Kophetua started up, desperate indeed, with the fire of his fathers' soul glittering in his eyes. "By the splendour of God!" he cried, springing from his seat with the oath that had been the founder's favourite, "you shall not use me so! You shall have neither terms nor trial, except that which is the birthright of every man!" "Does your majesty threaten me?" said Turbo, trying to keep up the insolent tone he had adopted, though in truth feeling he was faced by a force that was beyond his control. "That is what I do!" cried the King, drawing the glittering rapier on which his hand was laid. "You have outraged the woman I have sworn to protect, and, by the soul of the knight! here and now we will see whose she shall be. Take your sword, you double cur and coward! take it, or receive my point where you stand!" With that he fell _en garde_, with his blade straight at the Chancellors throat. Turbo saw the time for words was gone by. They had often fenced together, and he knew, in spite of his lameness, he was the better man. Yet so fiercely did the King's eye fix his, that it was with no sense of ease that he took up his sword from the table at his side, where Dolabella had laid it. With such fury did Kophetua attack when they were once engaged that Turbo had to give ground fast. Already he was forced against a table, and was barely defending himself with his utmost skill, when the door burst open, and Dolabella, alarmed by the quick clink of steel, rushed in, followed by the gendarme and two files of the Palace Watch. Kophetua retreated immediately, and dropped his point. "You come most inopportunely," said the King angrily. "Nay, your majesty," said the General. "Permit me to say most opportunely." "Yes, most opportunely, with your majesty's pardon," echoed the officer, to whom Dolabella had confided the King's difficulty about the Chancellor's arrest. "I can take his excellency red-handed, and no trial will be necessary now." It was true. The officer of gendarmes knew his work well, and valued at its true worth his favourite and most dreaded weapon--red-handed justice. He was quick enough to see that here was a solution of the difficulty which his commander had confided to him. For a moment the King hesitated before the temptation, but it was a meanness of which he was incapable. "No, General," he said, as he sheathed his sword; "the Chancellor will retire to his house, and doubtless give us his word to remain there till we are resolved how to deal with his case. I fancy," he continued, with a defiant look at Turbo, "that we have found a method of settling our differences amicably." The Chancellor recognised that he had aroused a spirit in the King which it would be well to let cool. There came vividly before him the ominous scene when the long rapier had fallen into his pupil's hands, and the kind of awe he had experienced then was upon him now. So he too sheathed his sword, and, having passed his word as the King suggested, left the room. "Has your majesty any further orders for me," said the officer, saluting. "What is your name?" asked the King. "Pertinax," answered the officer. "Captain Pertinax, at your majesty's service." "Then, Captain Pertinax," answered the King, "I commend your conduct, and shall not forget it. You may retire." "And what, sire," he asked diffidently, "shall I do with the girl?" "I confide her to your custody," replied Kophetua, after a little hesitation, during which he eyed the gendarme with careful scrutiny. "You will keep her where she is, with liberty of the park, till further orders." CHAPTER XVIII. THE QUEEN'S MOVE. "Her arms across her breast she laid; She was more fair than words can say: Bare-footed came the beggar-maid." It was impossible that the Queen-mother's anxiety should not have revealed to her the coldness which had sprung up between her son and Mlle de Tricotrin. She had been at the Kora rout, and her intense love for Kophetua, and her absorbing desire to see him united to her new favourite, had made her eyes sharper than those of the rest of the world, interested as they were. Hitherto her hopes had been rising daily. She was rejoicing not only at the skilful manner in which the Marquis was winning over all parties to their common cause, but also at the warm relations which seemed to be growing between Kophetua and the beautiful Frenchwoman. It was quite clear to her that he was taking an interest in Mlle de Tricotrin which he had never shown for a woman before. At last she felt her long-deferred hopes were about to be realised, when suddenly she was aware that the happy love-progress was arrested. Some discord had jarred in upon the growing harmony. It rang in her listening ears rudely enough, but whence it was she could not tell. It was this that made her look so sad and anxious, as she took her usual drive in the cool of the following afternoon. Of late Mlle de Tricotrin, who had grown to be like a daughter to the lonely Queen, had always accompanied her on these drives. This time, however, she had sent an excuse that she was not well. Indeed, she felt that after her crime she could not play her part before the keen eyes of her patroness without breaking down. So Margaret was alone, for she would have no one to replace her Héloise. She wished besides to think over quietly by herself what could be the cause of the coldness which Mlle de Tricotrin's message only confirmed. It was the Queen's custom during these drives to visit from time to time the public hospitals of the villages around the capital. For in this well-ordered kingdom every village possessed its hospital, maintained at the public expense, and there was not one in which the benign and stately presence of Margaret was not familiar and welcome. With the affection of the people she strove to fill the aching void, where should have nestled the love and confidence which her only son denied her; and if her visits of mercy did not bring her a full measure of consolation, they at least won her a wide popularity, which shed an intermittent glow of happiness into her clouded life. It was only natural that she should try to-day the specific her womanly heroism had taught her. She drove to a village which lay before the furthest gate of the Royal Park. The people were all assembled on the green, and she could see they were eagerly watching a rude stage which some wandering players had set up under the spreading shelter of an ancient acacia. They gave her a ringing shout of greeting as she passed by, oblivious of the sorrows of the highly rouged lady who raved before them. Nor would they give the stage another glance till the Queen's stately coach had rolled by out of sight. An hour or so was spent in reading to and comforting the few sick that the hospital contained, and then the Queen returned. The play was done, and the dispersing people so blocked the road that the chariot had to pull up. A man in a fantastic dress took advantage of the delay to approach the Queen and ask her a boon with that elaboration of ceremony by which players consider they imitate the manners of the great. It was a little thing that he wanted, though his air was lofty enough to have prefaced a demand for half of the kingdom. As the privileges of the chartered beggars in Oneiria were wide, so were the laws against unlicenced vagrancy excessively severe. The status of strolling players was at the best doubtful, and in the present case the mayor of the village had refused them permission to camp on the green, upon the ground that such a proceeding was flat vagrancy. Not a house or even a barn was to be had, and so the motley player was begging leave to pass the night within the gates of the park--a request which Margaret granted graciously enough. To the sound of another cheer from the villagers the park gates closed behind the Queen, and she went on her way towards the palace. It was a lovely evening, and before she had gone far she was tempted to leave the chariot to go round a wide sweep of the road, while she herself walked across under the great acacias to meet it again. Her trouble was as heavy on her heart as ever now her Samaritan visit was over; and, alone with the rugged trunks and the spreading boughs and peeping flowers, she felt she could think it out more easily, and perhaps light upon the cause that made the sweet bells jangle out of tune. Her way soon led her along a gully, where a little brook hurried gently down with happy chatter to find its way to its father Drâa. Here some long-dead king had obliterated all trace of the rank vegetation that had stolen up from the tropical regions to the southward, and in its place had fostered the nobler forms which through the long ages have gathered about the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. On the favoured slopes of the Atlas, where the mighty breath of the Atlantic still has power to cherish and make strong, he found them, and here they now rejoiced together in the vigour of lusty age. Giant oaks stretched out their limbs across the moist rocks to greet their rough-coated cousins the cork-trees on the other side. And almost in their arms grew the wild olives in wanton freedom, as though they mocked the modest silver poplars which quivered hard by. They, shy prudes, stood aloof delicately, and trembled always, as though they never ceased to fear the rough embrace of the wanton olive's friends. And here and there, where the tinkling stream idled through a wider channel, and the banks were marshy beds of vivid green, an oleander stood; and, as its ruddy flowers began to peep out to see the ripening year, it seemed to blush for the immodest hypocrite who, with her sober hue, had cheated the old Greeks to call her chaste. The murmuring brook splashed up upon the rocky path, and the leaves bent down and rustled in the evening breeze, as though they would whisper to the passing Queen the secret she could not divine. But, plunged in deep and miserable thought, she kept on her way unheeding, till all at once she was aware of a nymph-like figure that sat upon a rock on the further side of the brook, and dipped her white feet in it. Upon her long dark tresses was a crown of flowers, and in her lap lay others, which ever and again she tossed upon the stream, and watched in idle reverie racing, embracing, and dividing, as they sported with the laughing eddies. The Queen could not help admiring the picture in spite of her surprise at the intrusion. She drew nearer, and then, to her complete astonishment, saw that the flower-crowned nymph was none other than the pretty maid of Mlle de Tricotrin. She had always liked the girl for her gentleness and modesty, no less than for her evident devotion to her mistress. Still her presence in the park alone was a liberty that could not be passed over. Margaret called her gently by her name. Penelophon rose hastily when she saw who spoke, and cast a whole lapful of flowers into the stream as she made her humble reverence. The water seemed to seize the blossoms greedily, and hurried away with its prize, as though the maid had lost all that could tempt it to linger. "My girl," said the Queen, with severity, though not unkindly, "why are you here? Do you not know that no one is allowed in the park without leave?" "Yes, madam," answered Penelophon, with quiet confidence, "but Trecenito gave me leave." "Who do you say, girl?" cried the Queen, drawing herself up, and speaking with great asperity. "I mean his majesty gave me leave," answered Penelophon, looking down and blushing faintly in her confusion. "But how did you come here?" asked the Queen, trying to conceal the interest which a sudden suspicion gave her. "From the old hunting-lodge, madam," answered Penelophon, "where Captain Pertinax and the gendarmes are." "But what were you doing there?" said the Queen. "Trecen---- I mean his majesty," said Penelophon, looking down again, "told Captain Pertinax he was to keep me there till his majesty was resolved where I was to go." "Where you were to go, child?" echoed the Queen, assuming her kindest tone, for she felt she had found a clue to the mystery, and did not want to frighten the girl. "But why are you not to be with Mlle de Tricotrin? How did you come to leave her?" "Do you not know, madam?" said Penelophon, with a look of pain in her trusting eyes. "Did my good mistress not tell you?" "No, child; what was it?" "Then I will come and tell you. I will come and whisper in your ear; I dare not speak it loud. I hardly dare to think of it, lest the thing should come again." She spoke in a low, frightened voice, and then stepped in trembling agitation across the brook, and came to the Queen's side. "The thing came----" she began, beneath her breath. "What thing, my girl?" asked the Queen, with increasing excitement. "That thing that limps and glares, and is wrapped in a cloak," answered Penelophon, in a hurried whisper, while she looked anxiously about her. "The thing that Captain Pertinax says is called Turbo, the Chancellor. Well, it came and dragged me away from Mlle de Tricotrin in the dark night; but Trecenito sent the gendarmes and took me away from it, and they brought me here, where its eyes cannot look at me." The Queen made no reply. It was all she could do to conceal the sudden elation that possessed her, for now she was sure that accidentally she had stumbled on what she sought. Penelophon's familiar way of speaking of the King had aroused suspicions which her story served only to confirm. The case was perfectly clear. This innocent girl was the means that Turbo was using to thwart her plans for Kophetua's happiness. The Chancellor had obviously discovered that the fascination which Mlle de Tricotrin was exercising over his pupil was something which he could not meet with his ordinary weapons. The beauty and sweetness of her Héloise had at last touched the King's stony heart, and love was alive in him. Turbo was man of the world enough to know that this was a state of mind which was not to be reasoned with, and he must have thought that the only means by which he could prevent the attachment getting past undoing was to place another woman in the way. In the sudden reaction of spirits brought about by the unexpected success of her quest, the Queen could hardly help smiling at the Chancellor's astuteness. It was certainly a clever move. She knew her son's nature well enough to understand how this dreamy child of the people was just the most dangerous rival Mlle de Tricotrin could have. It was just the idyllic passion to commend itself to a nature which, though outwardly cynical, was, as she well knew, at bottom imaginative, poetical, and even Quixotic. It was clear then to the Queen that Turbo had stolen the girl from Mlle de Tricotrin, in consequence, probably, of the King having noticed her. He had arranged for her this romantic retreat, where Kophetua could visit his Rosamund with the added spice of secrecy on pretence of inspecting the gendarmes. The plot was perfect, and Margaret's elation at her fancied discovery was in proportion to its perfection. For not only had she unravelled the whole mystery which had so troubled her, but she found herself in a position to foil the Chancellor's last attempt. The fear which, by her view of the situation, Turbo seemed to have of Mlle de Tricotrin's influence entirely coincided with her own idea that Kophetua was on the brink of an irresistible passion for the Frenchwoman. All, then, that was necessary was to remove Turbo's counter-attraction, and the game was won. Her motherly eagerness showed her the means by which this might be accomplished, and taught her to play her part with the skill and delicacy which was essential to success. "My dear," said the Queen at length, softly stroking Penelophon's hair, "I am very sorry for you. I am very glad I found you here." "Thank you, madam," answered Penelophon. "It is not hard to see why my mistress loves you so. But why are you glad?" "Because, my child," said the Queen, "you are not safe here any more than you were with your mistress." "Not safe?" cried Penelophon, her big eyes dilating with fear. "That thing knows where you are," answered the Queen, in a mysterious voice, "though the King thinks you are safe. He does not know, but to-night it will come and look at you." "No! no!" cried the poor girl, covering her face interior. "But will it take hold of me too?" "I cannot tell," replied the Queen-mother doubtfully. "Perhaps the gendarmes will prevent it; but it is a cunning thing." "O madam!" exclaimed Penelophon, casting herself at Margaret's feet, "what shall I do? I could not bear it again. Will you not take me away where it cannot come? For the love of Trecenito take me away!" "Well, child, for the love of Trecenito I will take you away," said the Queen, covering her deceit with words that were true. "I will bring you to some good friends of mine hard by, and they shall take you far away where the thing can never find you,--far away to the mountains, where the King's hunting-tower stands, and I will tell him, and none but him, whither you have gone." "Bless your sweet majesty! bless you!" cried Penelophon, fervently kissing the hand that soothed her. "But now let us go quickly before the gendarmes see." "Follow me, then, child," said the Queen, and hastily retraced her steps up the gully to where she knew she would find the players; and as they passed, the oleanders blushed deeply to see what wrong a mother's love could do, and the white poplars trembled with dread. Overhead the Turkey oaks and the rough cork-trees shot out their muscular arms stiffly, as though they would have stopped the cruel deed; but the wild olives nestled close, and whispered wantonly it was no harm. The players were already there with their carts when the two women came to the park gate. A few words and a little purse soon persuaded Margaret's motley friend to take the matter in hand. All the Queen required was that he should start away betimes in the morning with his company, and carry the beggar-maid to some remote part of the kingdom, and she promised the man a handsome present if the girl were not found for a year. Then she gave her hand to Penelophon, who kissed it again with devotion. Margaret, in a voice that all could hear, charged the players to treat her kindly, and so took her leave, and hurried to meet her carriage at the point agreed. The Queen's delight at the way she had outwitted her cunning adversary only increased as she thought over it, and by the time she reached the palace she felt compelled to share her joy with some one. So she easily persuaded herself that M. de Tricotrin ought at once to be informed of the plot against his daughter, and how, in consequence of her clever move, it was now, instead of a cause of anxiety, a thing to rejoice over, as evidence of how nearly the King had come to yielding to Héloise's charms. She sent to him at once to request the favour of an interview, and M. de Tricotrin appeared without delay. Margaret told him the whole story with great animation, and was perhaps a little surprised at his reception of her news. She had certainly looked for a little more enthusiasm in his congratulations, but was too happy and too satisfied with herself to take much notice of his manner. As for the Marquis, the instincts of an old diplomatist prevented him explaining the Queen's mistake. It was true that her story took his breath away at first; but it was a second nature with him, when he found any one labouring under an error, not to undeceive until he was sure that there was nothing to be made out of the situation as it stood. So after his first surprise he listened with interest, gravely thanked the Queen for her energy in his daughter's behalf, and ceremoniously took his leave, with the unpleasant conviction that things had taken a very awkward turn. What had happened he could hardly tell. That the Queen's view of the affair was wrong he had little doubt. A much more natural explanation suggested itself to him. Somehow or other Kophetua had got wind of the intended abduction, and had ordered the gendarmes to be on the alert to prevent it. How the secret had leaked out of course he could not be sure; but, in all probability, his own daughter, prompted by her silly infatuation for the girl, had given the King a hint. Whether this were so or not, he was sure that Turbo would come to the same conclusion, and feel that the Tricotrin side of the bargain had not been loyally carried out. The only thing to be done was to go to the Chancellor at once, find out what had actually happened, and, as a proof of sincerity, inform him what had become of the girl. This could certainly do no harm. For, even supposing the Queen were right, and Turbo's proposition had only been part of a deep-laid scheme to draw off the King from his daughter, it would, at any rate, be better to let the wily Chancellor know that his game was seen through. So to the Chancellor M. de Tricotrin went. CHAPTER XIX. CONSPIRATORS. "The gods preserve your majesty." By the force of circumstances, and Captain Pertinax's ingenious idea of red-handed justice, the Chancellor was sitting interned in his own official residence. For a man like Turbo to fail is very hard. Failure was a thing of which he had little experience. Yet now he was obliged to confess that his elaborate manoeuvre had not succeeded. True, it had been so far successful as to irrevocably ruin Mlle de Tricotrin's chances of the throne. On that side the King was firmly blockaded in his bachelordom. But the rest of the operation was a disaster. It was certainly nothing but a piece of pure ill-luck that had upset the strategist's calculations; but Turbo held that a man should be master of his fate, and leave no room for fortune to interfere either one way or the other. In the present case fortune might easily have been held at a distance. He ought to have remembered the gendarmes, and fortune would not have deprived him of half the battle. Indeed, it was more than half that had been lost. Not only had he failed to secure Penelophon for himself, but he had allowed her to come into the King's possession. So far from finally shutting off his sovereign from matrimony, he had actually hastened his approach to it. His idea that Kophetua intended to marry the beggar-maid, in order to secure the continuance of his reign, became more pronounced than ever. It was an eventuality which he had long foreseen. He had taken unsparing pains to prevent it. His whole powers, as a man and a politician, had been directed to keeping Penelophon away from Kophetua, and the only result had been to place the girl in his very arms. Something, he felt, must be done, or his ruin was complete. After what had occurred his favour in the King's eyes was gone for ever. He was a disgraced minister, whom nothing but a revolution could set on high again. Could he only stay the King's marriage a few months more, the revolution would come by peaceful process of law, otherwise his fall was complete, or a more violent course must be taken. Into the midst of the Chancellor's perplexity broke M. de Tricotrin. By this time the Marquis had ascertained approximately what had occurred in the morning. The news of the palace was that General Dolabella and an officer of gendarmes had presented a report to the King, which had led to a scene between his majesty and the Chancellor, resulting in the latter being confined to his residence in deep disgrace. This violent splash in the quiet waters of Oneirian politics was generally said, by well-informed persons of unimpeachable authority, to be due to a difference of opinion as to the course to be taken with the beggars, but M. de Tricotrin knew better. From what the Queen-mother had told him, and the facts within his own knowledge, he had now no doubt that the King had got wind of their little plot, and had ordered a party of gendarmes to frustrate it as quietly as possible, and he more than ever felt that an interview with the Chancellor was necessary to establish his own fidelity to the infamous bargain, and to concert measures for the future. "I thought your excellency would have something to say to me after this disaster," said the Marquis, as soon as the two old schemers were alone. "Yes?" said Turbo warily. "You have an accusation to make, no doubt," said the Marquis. "None in the world," answered Turbo; "why should I?" "Then whom do you blame for the unfortunate intervention of the gendarmes?" "I blame no one. They were there at my suggestion." "Upon my word, Chancellor," said the Marquis, astounded at Turbo's cool admission. "I must congratulate you upon the _sang-froid_ with which you speak of your infamies." "I do not understand you, Marquis," answered Turbo. "The word is plain enough. What you confess is an infamy. It is an infamy to enter into an arrangement to further my daughter's marriage, and deliberately to frustrate it by making an exposure of us to his Majesty, and providing him with a consolation. It is clever; but, I repeat, it is an infamy." "My dear Marquis," cried Turbo, almost with enthusiasm, "I see we shall work together admirably. Your suspicions do you infinite credit. They display in you possibilities of unscrupulous intrigue such as I myself have not yet attained. I have still to reach the point at which I could even suspect a man of the admirable insensibility of which you are so flattering as to accuse me. I bow to you as a master. To conceive such ingenious treachery belongs only to a master." "Then you withdraw the confession you just made." "I wish that I could, Marquis," said Turbo. "For it was a confession of stupidity;" and with that the Chancellor explained to M. de Tricotrin how the presence of the gendarmes was a mere accident, for which no one was to blame but himself. "Well," said M. de Tricotrin, when Turbo had done, "you must permit me to apologise for the unwarranted accusation I made." "Not at all," answered Turbo. "It was a compliment I value highly." "Then at least let me offer you my commiseration," said De Tricotrin, "upon the loss of all you hoped to gain. But I trust it is only temporary. I am happy to announce to you that I have discovered the retreat of your little friend, and, no doubt, can put you in the way of recovering her, when it may be done with safety;" and M. de Tricotrin explained in detail to the Chancellor the Queen-mother's move. "I am delighted," concluded the Marquis, "to be able to announce to you so excellent a piece of fortune." "I regret, Marquis," answered Turbo, "that I cannot share your delight." "But surely," replied the Frenchman, "it is an extraordinary piece of good fortune." "I do not deny it," said Turbo; "but I am accustomed to look with suspicion on any position, however attractive, which is founded on fortune. Nothing is stable without a substructure of sagacious purpose. For a position to be in any way modified by fortune is for me merely evidence of defective calculation. In the present case the danger is obvious." "Why so?" asked the Marquis. "You see," pursued Turbo, "another piece of fortune may at any moment put the King in possession of the information we enjoy. A pursuit and recapture will ensue, and our Quixote will have fattened his folly with another ration of romance. Your unhappy daughter's supplanter will then be on the steps of the throne." "Then what do you propose?" said De Tricotrin. "To recapture the girl yourself, I presume?" "Precisely," answered Turbo. "The thing is easily done. I will send officers to watch the players. They will be instructed to take advantage of any disorderly conduct to arrest the whole company as vagabonds, and convey them to the capital. Disorder amongst such people is easily fomented. I apprehend no difficulty or even delay." "But how can you arrange this delicate mission," objected the Marquis, "while you are under arrest?" "To-morrow," said Turbo, "I propose to submit unconditionally to the King's terms, and I shall be free. It will be unpleasant, but under the new aspect of affairs there is no other course open. I must absolutely be at liberty to act at the present crisis." The Chancellor's evident anxiety to get the beggar-maid back to the capital began once more to arouse M. de Tricotrin's suspicion. His doubts as to the loyalty of his ally began to recur to him. His own idea was that at present Penelophon was much better where she was. He objected to the Chancellor's plan, but it was not his habit to insist on real objections. There was a crudeness about honesty which jarred on the old diplomatist's sense of refinement. He loved always to mask his position with minor obstructions. "You seem, Chancellor," he began, "to over-estimate the danger we are to apprehend from this beggar. It is impossible to conceive that the King seriously means to marry her." "I quite agree with you, Marquis," answered Turbo. "He had no such intention. Till this morning the danger was shadowy. But now it is different. In his present state of mind he is capable of any indiscretion. I cannot exaggerate to you the intensity of the shock which he received at the discovery of your daughter's implication in our disgrace." "What!" cried the Marquis, surprised into an unwonted show of feeling. "The discovery of my daughter's complicity? What do you mean?" "Did you not know?" said Turbo, with an affectation of tender concern. "Really this is most painful. I imagined you knew all, and envied you your calmness. You see it was that unlucky note. The girl did not deliver it, and so it came into the King's hands through the police." "Oh, it is that which has alarmed you," said the Marquis, in a tone of great relief. "I am happy, then, to reassure you. Believe me, there was nothing compromising in that. I was careful that the letter should be but a blank sheet of paper." "Then what is the meaning of this?" said Turbo, handing Mlle de Tricotrin's note to her father. M. de Tricotrin read it through. Then he set his teeth, and hissed out between them, "Sink the little fool!" and many other like exclamations that were only fit for Turbo's ears. As soon as the ebullition which Turbo's announcement produced in the Marquis had a little subsided, and while his spirits were still hot, the Chancellor proceeded to throw in, in the guise of consolation, the ingredients which he considered necessary to convert the Frenchman's state of mind into a mixture that would minister to his own disease. "And, after all, Marquis," said Turbo, at last, "perhaps you have lost nothing. I begin to think you had gained nothing, and had nothing to lose. I am inclined to believe the King is a deeper politician than we thought. Some of us are old hands, but I believe he has been laughing at us all along. He amused us with your daughter, and Penelophon, and this Herculean notion of his of cleansing his Augean stables. But my experience of this morning has opened my eyes. He is a man, and not the decrepit boy I took him for. The spirit of his race is alive in him. It has burst into sudden vigour. He begins to itch for power like his fathers, and he means to grip it in spite of the law. He means to have it, and throw us all over,--you and me and Mlle Héloise, who have sinned in his eyes beyond redemption. That is why his calmness and obstinacy are so unassailable. That is what this concentration of the gendarmerie means. I tell you, Marquis, as sure as there is an earth beneath, our little Kophetua contemplates a _coup d'état_." "But this is astounding!" cried the revolutionary statesman, with the air of one who smells the battle afar off. "It _is_ astounding, Marquis," replied Turbo, "and we must not rely entirely on the correctness of our view. It is possible he may still be halting between the revolutionary and constitutional course. He may, even at the last moment, retreat by abdication. Meanwhile, we must prepare for every eventuality. Our first step will be for you as satisfactory as it is obvious. We must at once bring to bear the whole pressure of the political combination which you have so cleverly framed, in order to drive the King into a marriage with your daughter." "But is there the slightest chance of success?" said the Marquis. "I think so," answered Turbo, who knew perfectly well the attempt was hopeless, and therefore safe as far as he was concerned. "The party you have gathered at your back is stronger than anything he has met with before. Its influence is incalculable." "But if we fail!" "It will at any rate force his hand. We shall know what to do next. Meanwhile, I should value your opinion and assistance in the elaboration of various methods of proceeding upon which I am engaged in view of the possible crisis. A marriage with the beggar, or an attempt at a _coup d'état_, must be met----" "With revolution," broke in the delighted Frenchman, with impressive solemnity of voice and manner. "Precisely,--with revolution," answered the Chancellor. "It remains but to settle the details to our mutual satisfaction, and we cannot begin too soon. With your experience of these matters, my dear Marquis, our success is assured." "You flatter me," answered M. de Tricotrin. "Permit me to say it is for such a coadjutor as you that my experience has waited. We are necessary to each other, you and I. Let us recognise the fact, and nothing is impossible." The two old hands set to their work. All night long they sat, drawing up memoranda, consulting official lists, marking the names of those whom they intended to employ, and devising bribes for the doubtful. Like sober men of business they devoured the work, and sketched out with official brevity and distinctness the plan of operation. What these designs were it is premature to inquire now. Before long they were made patent to every one. Suffice it for the time that when the grey light of morning broke, M. de Tricotrin went quietly forth from Turbo's garden, wearing on his face an expression which he felt would not have disgraced Cassius as he left the orchard of Brutus. Several similar meetings followed in quick succession, and began to make themselves felt. Turbo made his peace with the King, and was continued in office in order that Mlle de Tricotrin's sin might not be blazoned to the world. The whole affair, in fact, was hushed up, and the Chancellor left free to work his tools. As the day for the meeting of Parliament drew near, Kophetua began to be aware that every one was taking an unaccountable interest in his marriage. Petitions came up from the country. Gentlemen and ladies of both parties, whether Kallist or Agathist, seemed to want to talk of nothing else. Every subject he started in the Council seemed to transform itself into the same haunting shape. Parliament met, and General Dolabella, amidst indescribable excitement, was elected Speaker according to the original arrangement on which M. de Tricotrin's coalition was founded. Then the pressure redoubled. The Kallikagathists joined with quiet dignity the general movement, and were heard to say, with an air of noble patronage, that it was at last a great fact. In tones of reserved intensity, so characteristic of the inflexible bigotry of those who believe they are nothing if not open-minded, the Kallikagathist party assured themselves that further resistance from the King was impossible. The party of order, the party of moderation, the party of intelligence, had triumphed at last. At length, by the unostentatious use of reason and common-sense, they had drawn the extremists together, and a coalition was standing before the King demanding his marriage with the lady who embodied the principles of everybody and everything. It was no longer the voice of party that spoke. It was the harmonious flood in which the voice of party was drowned. It was the holy voice of compromise. At last things came to a crisis. An address was moved urging the King to marry the woman of the people's choice. A lengthened debate took place, but only upon its wording. The Kallist amendments, dictated by Turbo, were almost indecent in their plain speaking. A coaxing and apologetic obscurity was the tone of those which the Queen-mother approved for the Agathists. Eventually the spirit of compromise, which presided over the assembly in the person of its new Speaker, triumphed over every difficulty, and the address was passed in a form which was a masterpiece of inconsistency. Kallist violence and Agathist weakness were there in glaring contrast. The insolence of the one was only enhanced by its proximity to the servility of the other. Nothing could have been better calculated to offend the King or impress him with a sense of the perplexity of his position and the malicious origin of the cross-bred coalition which confronted him. At no time was Kophetua a man to bear pressure patiently if he was conscious of it, and his present state of mind was one of universal defiance. The shock which Mlle de Tricotrin's heartless perfidy had produced upon him had been at least as acute as Turbo imagined. Till he had quarrelled with her at Count Kora's rout he hardly knew how much she had been to him. Till then he had not recognised how he craved for a woman to love, and how nearly she was fitted to satisfy his hunger. He began to see how dull his life would be again without her. The one imploring look she had given him as she passed beneath his window had turned his contempt into pity. The beauty, the tenderness, the self-abasing resignation of that lovely vision had done its work, and at last a great resistless love had filled every chamber of his soul. Then fell, sudden as the hand of death, the crushing revelation of her guilt. It was as though he had gathered the luscious fruit of the Tree of Life and found it ashes between his teeth. The first shock past, he turned, as men will in such a case, to find comfort in the light of another's eyes. He turned to Penelophon, where he saw the very antithesis of her in whom he was deceived. The passion that was aroused in him must find a resting-place. So violently did his noble nature revolt from its fallen idol that it was only in the opposite extreme of womanhood it felt it could be at peace. Prepared to risk all, he was going forth to seek her when they told him she was gone. At first none could say whither, but soon there were some who whispered she had run away to the strolling players, and were careful that the whisper should reach Kophetua's ears. Such folk had an evil reputation enough in Oneiria, and in his despair the heart-broken King cried out that she was as bad as the rest. There was now none good; no, not one. There was nothing in life but loneliness, and no weapon to battle with it but defiance. He laughed to himself to think how wasted were the efforts he felt pressing about him, how utterly they mistook him to think he would bend to force. He laughed till he wearied of the sport, and the last stroke angered him. The address he saw as a ridiculous insult, and was resolved to have no more. Once or twice before, when he had been over-worried on the marriage question, he had made an end by a simple manoeuvre, and he was determined to repeat it now. So when General Dolabella attended with a deputation to receive the King's answer to the address of his faithful Parliament, there was no one to receive him but the Chancellor. Turbo briefly announced that the King had left that morning for his hunting-tower in the mountains, and handed Mr. Speaker an order for the prorogation of the House. CHAPTER XX. PLAYERS. "He went out a-riding one fine day The countryside to see." In happy ignorance of the reports which reached Kophetua's ears, Penelophon continued with the players. Indeed, she could not have done otherwise; for though she was treated kindly enough, yet Bocco, the _arlecchino_, who had made the bargain with the Queen-mother, and Frampa, the old actress, his partner, took good care that she should not escape. She was far too valuable to lose. The firm of Bocco and Frampa, sole lessees and managers of the rumbling old caravans which were stage and dwelling and all, fully appreciated the prize they had captured, and were determined to watch it carefully. The payment which the Queen-mother had promised on account of the girl made her precious enough to be a thing worth careful tending; but the professional eyes of the managers saw in their _protégée_ further possibilities of profit, which they valued even more highly. With the ready discrimination of old fanciers, they rapidly noted her points as soon as she was in their charge. They remarked complacently her graceful figure, her delicately moulded features, her great lustrous eyes, her wealth of silky hair, and the thrilling earnestness of her voice, and they nodded to each other with the solemn satisfaction of those who know. "It is the most promising material I ever remember handling," said Bocco profoundly. "You are right, Bocco," answered Frampa, with the air of a _connaisseuse_ who does not praise lightly. "She is a little pale and sickly, of course, for my taste as she is; but fine feathers make fine birds. With a smart costume to show off her figure, and a good rouging, call me a dolt if I don't turn her over to you the prettiest bit that was ever on our boards." "And trust me to do the rest," replied Bocco, with enthusiasm. "She was born for an actress--so sensitive, so tender, so intelligent. What stuff to work on! Ah! I have a chance at last. Think what I have done for that lump of stupidity and dulness, Nora, and picture to yourself what the same hand will do with this piece of pure gold. But do you think you will bring her to it easily, Frampa? She seems a shy, silly little thing." "Trust me, Bocco," said Frampa, with dignity. "I am no journeyman. I know my trade. You do your part, and trust me to do mine. It is not the first." "Right, Frampa," answered Bocco, with respect. "You are a genius. She will tax you hard if I read her right; but you are a genius." Bocco was not mistaken. Frampa found she had a hard task before her. All she could say or do could not draw from Penelophon the slightest expression of a desire to appear on the stage; and when the old actress went further, and hinted how nice it would be for her to stand up like Nora before the people, and hear them shout and clap with delight, Penelophon only shuddered and looked like a frightened fawn. Indeed, the very presence of the other actresses was painful to her. Frampa she did not mind so much, for the manageress never acted now. She was too old and fat for anything but taking the money and dressing the girls. She had a not unpleasant face, with hard wrinkles and bright dark eyes, and a great double chin that had taken entire possession of the room once enjoyed by her neck. Her ways were so kindly, too, that Penelophon could be almost happy with her when she was not teasing her to act. The very idea of that grew more painful to her each day. To see Nora sitting bold and brazen in her paint and shameless attire on the gaudy car, in which the company were wont to exhibit themselves through the villages, was too shocking for her to bear. She used to go and hide in Frampa's cart, and try to think of Trecenito, that she might shut out the wickedness that surrounded her. Bocco was more successful with his part. He began by coming to the lonely girl, and repeating verses to amuse her. Then he asked her to try and say them, and his bright black eyes looked at her so strangely that she dared not refuse. She grew afraid of him and the strange power in his sharp face which seemed to fascinate her. So she always tried hard to remember what he read to her, and say it as he did to please him, and make him go away and not stare at her. After Penelophon had been with the players some weeks, to all these troubles a new one was added. For one day, while Nora was riding her brazen course round a village which they had reached the night before, and Penelophon was hiding in Frampa's cart, she saw the door stealthily open, and the face of a man peep in and look at her. He said nothing, but went away as quietly as he came. Presently the door opened once more, and the strange face was there again with another. Suddenly, just as she thought they were coming in, and she was cowering down as close as she could in her corner, the door shut, and she heard the sound of feet hurrying away. Then Bocco came in, looking very angry. "Do you know those men?" he asked, in his sharp way. "No," answered Penelophon. "Why do they come to look at me?" "Because they are bad," answered the _arlecchino_. "If they ask you to go with them, be sure you do not. They are very bad. If they try to take you, cry out for me, and I will blast them with an evil eye. They dare not let me look on them as I know how. They will run away if you call out." Bocco indeed had considerable faith in the power of his eye; but perhaps he told Penelophon a little more than he actually believed; still he was generally credited by his acquaintances with the evil eye, and he made the best use of his reputation. Now he wished to complete his influence over Penelophon, for he felt it was more than ever necessary. For some days he had had a suspicion that he was being followed by some men of mysterious manners, and he shrewdly suspected their attentions were due to the presence of Penelophon in the caravan. Frampa and he apprehended an attempt to carry her off, and the chance of losing their hopeful _protégée_ increased their anxiety to make use of her. This last discovery of Bocco's so alarmed him that he made up his mind to leave the village secretly by night, and go on to the next, in hopes of eluding his pursuers. There the caravan arrived on the following morning, and Bocco felt himself comparatively safe; for on the precipitous rock above the village hung the royal hunting-tower. The King was there, he knew, and from this he hoped great things. The mysterious persecution of which he found himself the object determined him to waste no more time over Penelophon's scruples. "It is of absolute necessity," he said to Frampa, "that she must act. She must be forced or cheated into it at once." "Yes, Bocco," answered Frampa. "We must not leave her alone; it is not safe." "And, besides," said Bocco, "there is a greater reason still. Some of the castle servants are sure to be at our performance. They cannot but be struck with the child, and the King will hear of her." "And will order a special performance," exclaimed Frampa eagerly. "And will give us a protection," said Bocco. "Splendid!" cried Frampa. "No one is so clever as you, Bocco." So the two set about a scheme of which poor Penelophon soon found herself the victim. It was growing very hot, and towards the middle of the day the girl had crept into a quiet place to sleep. It was a little shed leading out of the barn which Bocco had hired for a theatre. It was Frampa's private room, but as Penelophon slept in her cart she felt she was free of the little shed too; so she spread her quilt in a corner, and, casting off her outer clothes, lay down to sleep. Her slumber was disturbed. She had never really recovered from the effects of the rough treatment she had received at Turbo's hands. The heat made her feverish, and the memory of what Bocco had told her of the bad men took shape in troubled dreams. At last she awoke, unrefreshed, and with an aching head. She thought she would go out into the air; but when she sat up to reach her dress, she saw lying in its place a flimsy, spangled thing, such as Nora wore on the stage. She took it up to discover what the change might mean, but she dropped it quickly when she saw how scanty and evil-looking it was, and lay down again with a flushed face. Then the door opened, and she saw Frampa come in. "O Frampa!" she said, still blushing at the thought of the thing on her bed, "some one has taken my clothes and left me that. O Frampa! go and see who has done it, and bring them back." "Why, deary," said Frampa, "what is the matter? I did it myself. The bad men have followed us here. So Nora is going to wear your clothes, and I have got this for you to put on, so that the men will not know you. Come, I will help you put it on." "O Frampa!" said Penelophon, with a shudder, "I cannot; indeed, I cannot. I should die of shame." "Tut, tut, deary!" said Frampa, "be a woman. You need not be afraid. You can stay here all alone, and no one will see you. So come now and put it on, and make yourself safe." "But are you sure no one will see me?" asked Penelophon. "Why, of course not, child," answered Frampa cheerily. "You know no one can come here but I. There, there, that's a little woman." Frampa raised up her _protégée_ as she spoke with motherly tenderness, and Penelophon, trembling from head to foot, allowed herself to be clad in the actress's dress. But when it was on, and she saw how flaunting and shameless it was, and how it hardly covered her more than her own shift, she buried her face in her hands and began to cry. "There, there, deary," cried Frampa soothingly, "don't take on so. 'Tis nothing to cry over. Many a bonny lass would jump for joy to make such a pretty figure as you do now." "I know, I know!" sobbed Penelophon, whose trouble was only increased by Frampa's admiration, "but I cannot help it. I will try to bear it because you are so kind; but I am so unhappy, and O Frampa! my head aches past bearing." "Well, never mind," cooed Frampa; "have a good cry and lie down a bit. There now, that is it. Shut your eyes, and let me charm your pain away." So Penelophon did as she was told, and soon felt that Frampa was stroking her face with something very pleasant and soft, while she sang a low-toned charm like a lullaby. It was soothing, and seemed to take away the pain. So Penelophon lay quite still and left off crying. Frampa's conjuring had gone on for some time, when all at once the door opened and she stopped. Penelophon looked up. Bocco's sharp face and bright black eyes were peering in. "They are here!" he cried, in affected alarm. "Quick, Frampa, bring her away. She is not safe there. Bring her along and hide her." "Come, child," said Frampa, in great agitation, as the door closed again. "Quick! jump up; we will foil them yet." Penelophon rose mechanically in her alarm, and Frampa half led, half dragged her to the door; but just as she reached it she caught sight of a face she hardly knew in Frampa's mirror, which hung there upon the wall. For a moment she stopped and took another look. Then with a low cry of horror she dragged her hand from Frampa's and started back, staring at her conductor with a look in which terror struggled with reproach. "O Frampa!" she cried, in a hushed voice of anguish, "what have you done? You have painted my face. Oh, how wicked! how very wicked of you!" "Nonsense, child!" cried Frampa, getting a little vexed. "It is only to disguise you better. Come along quick, or it will be too late." She took her by the wrist again, but Penelophon hung back from her in disgust. Just then the door opened and Bocco rushed in again. "Quick, my girl," he said, as, heedless of her fear, he took her other wrist and looked her hard in the face. "Do what I bid you, and all will be well. But, mind, do as I say." Then she gave herself up to her fate. There was something she could not resist in this man, and she let them lead her right through the barn. Outside she saw the tawdry car standing ready, with all the men and girls upon it, except Nora, whose place at the top was vacant. They all laughed and whispered together when Penelophon appeared, but she had no time to heed them. "Come, child," said Bocco sharply, "climb with me; it is your only chance." The car was a kind of pyramid, on the flattened apex of which stood a stanchion with a gilded belt of metal attached to it. It was to this that Nora was always fastened to prevent her falling with the jolting of the car. Powerless for further resistance, Penelophon soon found herself standing in Nora's place, ready to sink with fear and shame. But Bocco clasped the iron girdle tightly about her waist, and then got down to his own post in front. In another moment the music struck up, and the car began to move on its progress through the crowded village. The people shouted as they passed, for in their eyes Penelophon was a beautiful sight, with her gaudy attire and high colour. Bocco never ceased to crack his jokes, as the car laboured on towards the market-place; and the more he joked the louder the people shouted. The music grew wilder and wilder, and every one seemed half mad with excitement, till it was all like a horrible dream to Penelophon. Her thoughts seemed to be part of the scream of the fifes, and the squeaking of the fiddles, and the hurried clatter of the drum. They mixed helplessly with the wanton din and got lost. Then it was as though it were some one else who was fastened there and not herself. She thought she was going mad. The throb and clatter of the mocking music had stolen all her senses. Once she threw up her bare arms and screamed, but the people only shouted "Brava! brava!" to her, and tossed up their caps in delight. She covered her ears to shut out the clamour, but it pierced through all. She tried to throw herself down, but the iron girdle pressed tightly about her waist, and she could not move. It seemed to be gripping her closer and closer, as though some vile thing had her in its embrace. At last everything swam before her, and she felt the end had come, when suddenly the music stopped, and the car came to a standstill in the middle of the crowded market-place. Some one was answering Bocco smartly out of the throng, and the people were jeering at him. The _arlecchino_ was not used to rivalry, and when he found he could not silence his antagonist he began to lose his temper and take to abuse. But he got nothing for his pains, except a large vegetable in his face, thrown by an unerring hand. In a moment he had leaped from his place to the ground, and was belabouring his assailant with his baton, for he was a high-spirited fellow enough when roused. Some of the company rushed to their chief's assistance, and fell upon his adversary's friends. As for the bystanders, they took one side or the other, or none at all, as it suited them; but every one shouted, and the girls on the car added their frightened screams to the clamour. The fray was growing fast and furious, cudgels were whirling on all sides, and blood was beginning to flow, when some half-dozen men, in the uniform of the Chancellor's runners, were seen making a way towards the car, where the fight was thickest. They used their halberts freely, and shouted as they came on, "Peace! peace! in the Chancellor's name!" So great was respect for the laws in Oneiria, that something like order was very soon obtained, and the runners set to work to secure the players. Still, it was not all done in a moment, and before the men were all manacled the girls had found time to run away and hide themselves, with the help of sympathising townsmen. Only Penelophon was left standing on the top of the car, unable to escape from the grip of her supports. "Bring down the girl, one of you," cried the leader of the Chancellor's men, and Penelophon shuddered anew to see a rough fellow climbing up the car to her. But now a new diversion was made by the approach of the town bailiff, with his constables at his back. He came ruffling up to the Chancellor's men, swelling with offended dignity. "Who is this," he cried, "that dares to make arrest in a royal borough? It is I, the King's bailiff, who have jurisdiction here. Come, hand over your prisoners at once, or I will clap you all in jail together." But the Chancellor's men, armed with a special warrant, and fortified with the dignity of their uniform, had no idea of giving up their prize. A violent altercation ensued between the bailiff and the head runner. The man at Penelophon's side leaped down to his chief's assistance, and two of the constables, anxious to make a point, at once took possession of her. This only made the runners more angry. They flatly refused to surrender their prisoners to any paltry bailiff. They were Chancellor's men, they said, and would take a man in the King's own privy chamber if it pleased his excellency to order it. "Well, we will soon see who is the better man," cried the infuriated bailiff, as the runners began to retreat, with the players in the midst of them. "Clap the girl in the stocks, one of you--we will keep her at any rate--and then run for the watch, and bid them come after me. I will keep an eye on these curs meanwhile; and then we will see who is King and who is Chancellor." Penelophon soon found herself led out of the throng by one of the constables towards the upper end of the market-place, where the stocks stood waiting for her. She shrank in terror as she saw them, but the man dragged her on. The leg-holes looked like great wicked eyes gloating over her, and the whole thing seemed to the poor girl's fevered sense like some ugly monster, squatting down and waiting in hideous glee to devour her. Most of the people followed the bailiff, so as not to lose the end of his quarrel with the Chancellor's men, but a good many stayed to see Penelophon put into the stocks. They gathered round, grinning and jesting, as the constable sat her down in the low settle at the back. Ready to sink with shame, she covered her face with her hands, while the man lifted the hinge-board and made her feet fast. She thought the worst was done then, but rough hands took hers and drew them from her face. "Come, lass," said the man, laughing, "I want these too." Then she saw the iron clamps on the two side-posts, and knew what he was going to do. "Not that, sir, not that!" she cried wildly; "for God's sake, leave me my hands to hide my shame!" "Willingly, lass," the constable said mockingly, "if you can pay for them, but we can't let you hide a pretty face like yours without buying the privilege." "But I have no money?" she moaned imploringly. "So much the worse for both of us," said the man; "we shall neither of us have what we want." Without further ceremony he fastened one little wrist against the side-post with the iron clamp, and then did the same with the other; and so, after a quiet survey of his work, strode off, and left her to the jeers of the little crowd that had gathered. Poor Penelophon! her cup was filled now past all endurance. When she looked down, it was but to find the spangled dress, which to her was like a robe of Nessus. When she turned her eyes from that, it was only to see the staring townsfolk, and listen to their jeers at the painted face she could not hide. She felt each moment she would die. Such agony could not last long. Fortunately it was not many minutes, though to her it seemed hours, before she had some relief. A fellow came running by, crying out that the bailiff had taken all the Chancellor's men, and was haling them to the court-house for summary justice. With that Penelophon's tormentors took to their heels and ran after the new excitement. So she was left alone for half an hour or more. Her position began to grow very painful. Her feet were cramped, and the irons hurt her tender wrists, and it was a strange, undefined misery to be fastened there so long unable to move. But in a moment she forgot it all, when she heard men coming again into the deserted market-place. To be seen was the worst pain of all. She could hear the sound of horses' feet coming slowly across the square towards where she was fastened. In the bitterness of shame she hung her head, till she heard the horses stop in front of her. Then, feeling anything was better than the sight of the shameless dress that clothed her, she looked up. With a cry of anguish she dragged at the clamps in a frantic impulse to hide her painted face; for there, upon his horse, erect and handsome, and sad past words, sat Trecenito, looking at her. For a moment their eyes met, but only for a moment. She saw him give a sort of shudder of disgust. She saw him turn with a bitter laugh to Captain Pertinax, who rode behind him, and heard him say of her a thing so terrible that it seemed to drive the very life from her heart. Like one in a swoon, she saw a vision of her angel angrily spurring his horse, and knew he had dashed away furiously out of the square with Pertinax at his heels. CHAPTER XXI. HUNTER AND HUNTED. "But when they knew she was good as she was fair, Then homage to the maid they paid." Kophetua was naturally of a much too chivalrous disposition to suffer himself to be guided far by the impulse to which his sudden meeting with Penelophon had given rise. Indeed, before he had ridden half a mile he began to find his conduct inexcusable. He fully believed the story of the beggar-maid's light behaviour which had been so carefully prepared for his ears; but to see so sudden and shocking a confirmation of her wantonness had thrown him off his balance. Now he was recovering himself, and he felt how unworthily of his philosophy he was acting. He was foolishly resenting as a crime an action which was the natural and almost inevitable outcome of a woman's contemptible nature. This girl had made a ridiculous fool of him, to be sure; but that was no reason why he should forget his self-respect. She was in trouble. No matter who or what she was, he must see her out of it. It was a rule of life with him, and, as a philosopher, he must observe his rules. They are not things to be broken with impunity. Such was the reason he gave himself for reining in his horse and calling Captain Pertinax to his side. Yet it was hardly the real cause of his change of purpose. Kophetua had lost faith in himself and all the world. The lofty ideals of his romantic youth were withered and trodden under foot. He thought, like other men, that because they grew no longer green and vigorous in the ruined garden of his soul, that all such things for him had perished. He knew not how the flowers which once we valued highest, and whose savour seemed our very life, will fall and wither and be lost a while, only that forms of a beauty and fragrance beyond all we knew before may blossom out of their decay. So the King's good purpose sprang up and bore its flowers, but he knew not why. He remembered not how he himself had enriched with noble aspirations the soil in which it grew, nor ever guessed from what dead ideals its roots drew nourishment, deep down within his heart, in the grave where his boyhood lay buried. "I wish you to ride back to the village," said Kophetua, in a constrained manner, as Captain Pertinax came up. "And how can I serve your majesty there?" asked the gendarme. "Did you recognise the girl in the stocks?" said the King. "I did, sire," answered Pertinax indifferently, as though he wished to imply it was an affair of his majesty's about which he had no curiosity, though, if the truth were told, his interest in the girl had certainly not diminished since the night he rescued her. "Then you are aware," continued the King, "that she is the person whom you allowed to escape from your custody?" "I am painfully aware of my neglect," answered the officer, with humility. "Very well," said the King shortly; "go and repair it. You know your duty." And with that he gathered his reins to ride on, thinking how neatly he had got over his difficult task. But his instructions were still incomplete, and Pertinax did not go. "Your majesty," began the officer, with hesitation. "Well, sir?" cried the King sharply. "Your majesty," continued Pertinax, "has omitted to indicate the destination of the prisoner when re-arrested." "Bring her," said the King desperately,--"bring her up to the castle. Where else could you lodge her? Here is my warrant to the town bailiff." He handed his signet ring to Captain Pertinax; and the gendarme, with great alacrity, rode rapidly back to the village, where he carried out Kophetua's orders with the business-like despatch which characterised all his professional movements. As for the King, he went on to his solitude in the castle; for solitude indeed it was. It had always been his custom, when he periodically retired there, to live as far as possible the simple life of a hunter, with but one companion. It was only, he used to say, by lying in the bowers which your own axe had hewn, and living on the food which your own hand had won, that you could dip in the well-spring of life, and be made whole of all the diseases that were engendered in a civil state of existence. Formerly this companion had always been Turbo, but that was impossible now. So when Kophetua determined to cut the bonds that were being so artfully twined round him, and boldly free himself by escape, he could think of none better to accompany him than the smart, jovial soldier with whom he had recently come in contact. He was a high-spirited, pleasant fellow enough, with a fund of stories and a rattling laugh. He was handsome, too, and good to have to look at, and, as for sport and camp-life, his fertility of resource in all the shifts and expedients of the hunter was quite phenomenal. When, added to all this, the King found that his comrade's activity and endurance were only surpassed by the sparkle and persistence of his good humour, he was delighted with his choice. In a few days, however, Kophetua found out the difference between an attendant and a companion. As the former Captain Pertinax was complete; as the latter, entirely without value. It was well enough while they were out on the mountains, and could talk of sport or jest together over their rude meals; but when the night spread its pall of sadness and gloom over the world, Kophetua's mind was full of other things, of which he longed to speak. Once or twice he even attempted such conversation with Captain Pertinax, but the poor fellow stared at him with such a look of worried wonder that Kophetua soon desisted from his efforts. This evening they were dining in a commonplace way in the castle, and Captain Pertinax was more than ever unsatisfactory. Kophetua's meeting with Penelophon had seriously unsettled the comparative equanimity at which he had arrived, and he found it quite impossible to be interested in the soldier's conversation. So, as soon as the meal was over, he dismissed him, and sat looking out from his window over the fertile valley below. Far away it stretched, a broad, checkered expanse of cultivation, till it reached to the fantastic shapes of the mountain wall which shielded it from the Sahara. He watched the sunset glowing on its tanks and water-courses, and thought how often he had sat there with Turbo, talking over schemes for improving its irrigation. The past glowed in pleasant radiance through the veil of years, and made the present the more glaring and hideous. Do what he would, he could not keep from his mind the bright little sparks which, in the last few months, had seemed to be kindling his life. Untimely the glow had been smothered; and now it seemed as though, instead of the living fire, a smouldering smoke were rising up and spreading a black and stifling vapour over his gloomy life. As one that is suffocating, he strained unconsciously after a purer air. Again and again, in sighs that grew ever sweeter, the balmy fragrance he desired was wafted to his poisoned senses, and whence it was he could not choose but know. Down from the turret-chamber overhead it came--down from the room where lay the beggar-maid locked up all alone. It was useless to try and forget her. In the corner of the room was the little door which opened on to the turret stair; at his elbow hung the key which made her his. His solitude grew insupportable, and he began to cheat himself with reasons why he should visit his prisoner. He fell to wondering what was to be done with her. He told himself it was only half doing his work to bring her there and not try to find out how she got into trouble. Unless he knew that, there was little chance of getting her out of it. At any rate, it would only be kind to go and ask her what she would like him to do with her, and learn how he could get her back to her friends, the players. He was playing with the key now as he sat and thought. A cynical smile was over his handsome face, as he held it up in his hand, and talked to it as though it were a little devil that was stronger than he. "Why, what a stubborn little rogue it is!" he said. "Here am I, thy King and master, changing to a thousand purposes like a summer wind, whilst thou wilt not flinch or waver a hair's-breadth for all I can say. Curse thee for a stubborn rogue that will have his way at last!" In truth, it was a stunted, sturdy-looking thing, as he held it up to the light. It seemed to Kophetua everything that he was not. "Why, lad," he cried again, "'tis thou shouldst wear the crown. Thou wouldst make a better king than I. Yes, thou shalt be king--a sturdy little stubborn king--and I'll be slave." In bitter contempt of what he called his weakness, he laughed unsteadily as he rose and went to the door. Lightly he mounted the winding stairs, jesting wildly in a low, excited voice to the key as he went. "Hey! little rogue," he muttered, as he reached the room he sought. "Hey! little rogue. In with thee now, and have thy way." He thrust it into the lock, and turned it sharply with another "Hey! little rogue!" Then in a moment his whole aspect was changed, and he stopped listening outside the closed door. It was a sob he had heard. Just a woman's sob, low and tender, and heartrending beyond all that words can tell. What sound has power like that? The voice that tells of a gentle soul that is bruised and rent; of a tender spirit that can battle no more with its grief; of a staunch little heart that is stricken down at last, and is lying helpless in its anguish, while the woes it has so bravely fought trample it in triumph under foot. Then another--and another--like voices that called to him out of heaven, and bade him imperiously be a man. Quietly he opened the door and looked in. She was lying on a rough pallet, still in her paint and shameless dress, sobbing herself to sleep like a child. The soft red light of the dying day shed a false glow of reality over the picture. Her little sylph-like figure glistened with an unearthly radiance as she sobbed, and the spangles on her elfish costume caught and lost the light. The colour on her cheeks glowed rich and warm, and her white breast and arms shone from out her littered hair with a fairy light of their own. She seemed an elf that was imprisoned and enchanted there; and Kophetua, moved with the beautiful sight, advanced into the room and closed the door with beating heart. At the snap of the lock she looked up, and for a moment stared at him vacantly, as though her reason were unhinged. Then she started up on the bed with the wild, helpless look of a fawn, when its captor visits it for the first time. "What!" she cried, "not you too! Surely you have not come to mock me like the rest? Go, go! for the love of Heaven! You must not see me thus. My shame will never end if you look on it once. Go, for the love of Heaven, and come not near me! It is more than I can bear that you, too, should look at me!" She was sitting up on the bed, resting on one arm, with her feet curled under her. The other was stretched out against him, as though to keep his presence away. Still he came near, not knowing what he did. Her beauty drew him like a charm. In the anguish of her shame Penelophon made one more effort, and, springing from her pallet, she fell on her knees before him. In wild entreaty she was gazing up out of her dark eyes, which still shone with all the added radiance of Frampa's art, and she held the hem of his coat convulsively in her little white hands as she poured forth her passionate prayer. "Leave me, leave me!" she cried, "for the love of God! Do not be angry that I ask this thing. I have not forgotten; but you cannot understand the anguish you bring. Indeed, it is more than I can bear. You cannot tell what it is to crouch here, befouled as I am, for a man to see. If you were a woman, you would guess. I know your greatness and nobleness and spotless honour. I have not forgotten; indeed, I have not, though you see me so changed. I know you cannot think an evil thought or do an evil thing, yet even you I cannot endure to see me thus. You have come in kindness, I know, to help and comfort me, as you always did. I have not forgotten. But oh! my angel, for you to see my shame is greater pain than even you can heal! So leave me--leave me, as you are great and godlike, before the anguish kills me. You have power above all to take away sorrow and drive out sin. It is you who bring down heaven to me on earth; but not even for heaven can I be seen like this. To be near you was like paradise. I have not forgotten; I cannot forget. You are all the world to me; but not as I am--not as I am!" "But why are you thus," he said, irresolute and unable to comprehend whether it was play or earnest, "if it was not your desire? Was it not for this you ran away to the players? What else did you expect? You should be glad, they have made you so pretty." "Don't! don't!" she said in anguish, as she hid her painted face in her hands; "I cannot bear it. I never dreamed they would be so wicked when your good mother took me to them. She would punish them if she knew." "What!" exclaimed the astonished King, "my mother took you to them? What do you mean? Tell me quickly." And Penelophon, in a low, hurried voice, told him the story of her betrayal. Overwhelmed with shame she could hardly speak. Her distress was so acute and genuine that Kophetua's heart bled for her as she told, in simple words, of the ordeal through which she had passed unscathed. A sort of fierce, defiant joy sprang up in his heart as she ceased, to think that his own mother, with all her saintliness, the last friend who had not proved untrue, should now be found out as false and wicked and worldly as the rest. He rejoiced, for at last he was sure that he and the poor crouching thing at his feet were alone in the world together. He had seen her in her filth and rags, he had seen her in the chaste simplicity of her handmaid's dress, he had seen her as one over whom the cleansing hand of Death had passed; yet never had she shone so pure and holy in his eyes as now, all wantonly bedizened and painted as she was. The frame of dishonour in which her angel beauty was set seemed but to make her more divine. Humbled and ashamed, Kophetua devoutly laid his hand upon her head, and turned her face up to him. He saw no more the rouge and the paint. He marked not the wanton garb in which her beauty was displayed. There was nothing there but the image of perfect womanhood which his dreams had made. He had one wild impulse to take her up in his arms and kiss away her shame, but the holiness which shone in her pleading eyes still held her sacred. "I will go, child," he said, very gently. "I ask your pardon that I ever came. I will go and see that ere an hour is passed your suffering is ended." She kissed the lace on the skirts of his coat, as though she would have stayed him for her thanks; but he hurried away, feeling it were guilt to look again. Presently the women of the castle came to her with water in which she might wash, and a bundle of old clothes, too worn and stained for them to wear. So it was they obeyed the King's behest to see her fitly clad. Still they were such as she would have chosen for herself; and the night closed in upon her as she slept in peace, happy at last in her mean attire. In the morning they came again to bring her food; but, in wonder, they saw the chamber was empty. In great trepidation they ran to Captain Pertinax for advice. With his usual determination he said the King must be awakened. The morning was well advanced, and he feared no evil consequences, especially as the news was important and pressing. He took the responsibility on himself, and entered the King's bedchamber. Presently he came out, looking very serious. They scanned his face narrowly, fearing some ill news. "His majesty is indisposed," was all he said. "He will not come forth to-day, and will need no attendance but mine." But the trusty captain lied for his master. The King was gone too. CHAPTER XXII. HERMITS. "'For thou,' quoth he, 'shalt be my wife, And honoured for my queene; With thee I meane to lead my life, As shortly shall be seene.'" Far away in an interminable vista of rock and forest, which lay behind the King's hunting-tower, like the littered ruins of a world, stretched out the wilderness. Silent lay the piles of desolation, rank after rank, and voiceless save for the tales which none could understand of the ages that were gone. And wildest of all, and more silent and full of inarticulate eloquence, was the rift where the Cañon of the Hermits split the waste in two. Deep into the bowels of the stony land a soft, little, laughing river had licked its way; and now in a cool channel, flanked with perpendicular walls, it ran on, hundreds of feet below the level of the wilderness, and seemed to rejoice to think how unenduring beside itself was the everlasting rock. Once or twice in a century a man might find the spot as he followed a trail or sought the riches that lay hidden in the hills. And there, as he stood upon the brink of that Titanic trench, he could not but feel the overpowering presence of the ages which were young when the foundations of the world were laid. He could not but feel, when he listened to the river far below, singing over its never-ending task, what a paltry scratching was the greatest work a man could do between the cradle and the grave. Perhaps it was this that made the hermits choose it for a resting-place, and its utter solitude as well. Whatever was the cause, here they had settled, where the perpendicular walls were grimmest and highest; and here, far up in the face of the gaunt cliffs, they had hewn out caves to dwell in. Visibly there was no approach to them; but he who found his way to the little meadows at the foot, and pierced the luxuriant shrubs, that from which the mighty ramparts sprung, would have discovered on either hand a larger cave, which served at once as entrance-hall and corral to the monastery. From the inmost recess of these a rude spiral stair, cut in the solid rock, led upwards to a maze of crooked and inclined galleries communicating with the cells. Strange as was the hermitage, the hermits were stranger still. Their order was probably without parallel in the history of Christian monasticism. For here in each cell lived monk and nun as man and wife. The origin of the order was lost in obscurity and unknown. The literature on the subject was consequently prodigious. It is hardly too much to say that Oneirian archæology lived on it. The accessible data were, however, confined to two rubbings of symbols, said to be carved on the walls of all the cells. The younger members of the Royal Society were prepared to prove from these that the order was Pagan in its origin, and, further, that it was the original unreformed Oriental predecessor of the Eleusinian mysteries. Smart scientific and literary society took this view to a man; but plain people, such as local antiquaries, believed it to be a very ancient heresy of the Carthaginian Church. Both, perhaps, were right. The gloomy pessimism of African Christianity took many fantastic forms; and this, the most fantastic of all, may well have been a Montanist modification of some pre-existing Pagan brotherhood. At any rate, it is certain that the order was in existence when Kophetua's ancestor founded his colony. At that time it was an isolated print of the Cross in a waste of heathendom; and, as soon as it was discovered, the old knight took it under his protection. He found a place for it in his absorptive community, along with all the other ruins of peoples and social systems with which the country was littered. He affiliated it to his beggar-guild. The order was thereafter regularly subsidised; the hermits were registered; and, though amongst themselves they were all equal, they were placed under an abbot, who represented them in their relation to the state. In those days the community had been numerous, but now its numbers had greatly fallen off. All children that were born to the hermits were taken away in infancy, to be brought up at a hospital of the order in a neighbouring town; and, though formerly many re-entered the hermitage, most of them now preferred the licence of the beggars' guild, of which they were free. Penelophon herself had been born in the monastery; but her father, on the death of his wife, had claimed his children in a fit of insane anger at Heaven, and taken to the Liberties of St. Lazarus. The abbot had now scarce half a score of brethren and sisters to be responsible for; but he regularly made his report, and went to receive his subsidy. It was during one of these expeditions that Kophetua had encountered him out hunting. He was a pale man, with a red, ragged beard, and grey eyes, which glistened under their white lashes with an unhealthy restlessness. His spare figure, too, stooped forward with an air half feeble, half eager, so that his whole aspect was one of aimless intensity. The eagerness of the man had so struck Kophetua that he had accosted him; and, interested in his wild talk, had accompanied him, without revealing his identity, as far as his cell. Besides the hermits, Kophetua was probably the only man who knew where the rocky monastery was; and it was his first thought, after he had left Penelophon, that it was there he would be able to find a safe refuge for her. So, with the first glimmer of dawn, he had summoned her from her prison, and silently stolen out to the stables. Here he had saddled his horse, and, strapping a cushion across its withers, had ridden away, with Penelophon before him. They spoke little as they went; she was too happy, and he half afraid. For, in the soiled and shabby gown she wore, and with her hair knotted loosely up as best she could, she seemed once more the same strange thing that first had fascinated him in its rags and filth. Presently she grew tired, and her head gradually fell upon his breast. Then, as she nestled close to him, a sense of peace came into his heart. Even as he had gone to fetch her from the turret he knew the desire of finding her a refuge was not the only reason for what he did. Another lay whispering deep down in the bottom of his thoughts. At first he would not own it; but now, as he neared the monastery, and the beggar-maid nestled still closer in her weariness, the little voice spoke louder, the fancy seemed less wild, and throne and crown and people grew faint and far away. The abbot was getting water from the stream as, having descended the difficult bridle-way by which the hermitage was reached, they approached it along the meadows. He looked up in great surprise to see riding towards him a young man in a plain hunting dress, with a girl in a grey gown, old and patched, on the saddle before him. It was many years now since a pair had come to join the hermit community, and they were younger than any novices he himself could remember. So he set down his gourd, and came forward eagerly to meet them. "Welcome! welcome, my children!" he cried. "Even so should ye come to the holy place, riding upon one horse, even as one thought shall henceforth bear you both through life till the end. Come, my son, trust thy wife a moment to me, that I may lift her down. Then take her to thy breast for ever." A faint flush overspread Penelophon's wan face as the hermit held up his arms to take her. And as for Kophetua, he felt his heart leap in a kind of reckless ecstasy; the blood rushed tingling through his veins, and the whispering thought that had lain so quiet seemed to spring up and speak aloud. The moments flew by, and Kophetua let them go with never a word. Penelophon gazed with wide eyes upon him, in shy wonder that he still held back the truth. But Kophetua could not speak. The long romantic ride, the almost unearthly scene about him, and the abbot's unexpected welcome had strangely affected him. That plain little word "wife" was full of magic. It seemed to have transformed his life into an old tale and himself into its unreal hero. An excitement of a delicacy he had never known took possession of him. It was like playing in a masquerade, where the audience believed what they saw was real. It was play with all the spice of earnest, and he could not bring himself to break the spell. It would be time enough to explain to-morrow, he thought. To-night, at any rate, the hermit's mistake would assure them of shelter, which it was possible he might deny if he knew the truth. So Kophetua put his horse in the great cave on the abbot's side of the stream, and then they all went together up to his cell, where his wife prepared a frugal meal. Long they sat together, listening to the anchorites as they talked of the blessedness of the married state; and each time they spoke of them as man and wife Kophetua's heart beat with fresh delight, and the beggar-maid blushed anew. Night fell at last, and the hermit led them further up the long winding stair, all dark and slippery with the dripping moisture, to the cell that was to be theirs. There he placed a flickering lamp in a little recess, and then, with his blessing, left them alone in the heart of the living rock. For a little while they occupied themselves examining the gloomy abode. But the feeling of oppression, from the vast masses of rock that encompassed them, grew insupportable to the King, and he led the beggar-maid to the mouth of the cave. There they stood in silence, side by side, looking out upon the night. Before them was the giant wall of grey rock, pierced here and there with dark holes, that were caves like their own. In one glimmered a feeble light, and from it crept a weird, low sound, as of a man and a woman monotonously chanting a weary prayer. Then it ceased; the light died out with the chant, and, save for the voice of the heedless river, as it hurried on far below them, all was hushed in the majesty of the night. The sense of perfect solitude that fell upon Kophetua then was strangely sweet. Far beyond the dark fringe of jungle that crowned the cliff rolled the solemn stars, but even they seemed nearer than the world he had left. As the last sign of life disappeared, he turned instinctively to the companion of his place. He saw her dimly in the faint starlight gazing wistfully at him. As their eyes met she leaned earnestly towards him, and half put out her hand in an unfinished gesture of supplication. "Trecenito!" she said, and then stopped abruptly; but into the one word was gathered such intense emotion, such a world of inarticulate entreaty, that it made him start, and his breath came fast. For some moments they stood looking at each other, each deeply moved, and it was Penelophon who braved the evil silence and spoke first. "Trecenito," she said again, "why did you let them call us man and wife? Tell me, am I--am I indeed your wife?" Once more her voice seemed to shed around the dim figure an inviolable holiness, and make him suddenly calm. Without a word he quietly stepped towards her, and deliberately put his signet ring upon her finger. Then, taking the grey form in his arms, he gently kissed the pure, pale face. In another moment she heard his firm step on the rocky stairs, and he was gone. In the morning, when the abbot came to milk his cow, he found Kophetua fast asleep on a heap of rushes beside his horse. Immediately he roused him. "My son, my son," he cried, "what do you here? Why are you not beside your wife?" The King sprang up, and rubbed his eyes. Then he stared a while hard at the hermit's eager face, till he could remember where he was. "I have no wife," he said abruptly; and, striding past the hermit, he walked rapidly to the river, and, casting off his clothes, he leaped into the cool and sparkling water. But even the heedless river could not bring back to him the cynical calm he had lost. The ancient mystery of the place hung on him still like a spell, and the river ran by behind him, laughing in lofty contempt, as he took his way back. No longer could he think as was his wont. The grim cliffs seemed to bar him from his old philosophy; and out of the dark holes in their face, which marked the deserted cells, seemed to come whisperings of thoughts long dead. The ghosts of all the sharp griefs and insane dreaming that had wafted men and women hither, age after age, in search of peace, streamed out like some unseen miasma, and compassed him about. How many had been whirled into this silent eddy in the great river of time before him to find or wait for the telling of the great secret that vexed their soul! It was all he could bring his thoughts to rest on. He felt about him, like a living presence, the spirit of a mysticism long since dead, and he could reason no more. Suddenly he started to find himself face to face with the red-bearded hermit. "What is this sin, my son? What is this lie?" cried the man, with unsteady anger in his eye and voice. "It is no sin. It is no lie," answered Kophetua sharply. "She is not my wife. Last night she was, if ever man had wife. You yourself called her so, and I was sure you spoke a sudden truth; but to-day it is changed. You lied. She is not my wife. She shall not be my wife!" He was conscious of speaking like a madman, but it was all he could find to say. The hermit was in no way troubled at his wild speech. It seemed the language he best understood. "And why not, my son?" he answered quietly, though his eyes glittered restlessly still. "Because it was not for that I brought her here," said the King, trying to bring back clearly the events and thoughts of yesterday. "I brought her hither for refuge. She is wronged, foully wronged and persecuted, and you must give her sanctuary." "'Tis not my office," said the hermit. "You should take her to the King." "Nay," cried Kophetua, "her wrongs are more than a King can redress. It is you who must give her shelter." "It is impossible," said the abbot. "By the eternal laws, which no one can break, none but man and wife may abide with us. Stay thou with her, and all will be well." "It cannot be," answered the King. "The voice of duty calls too loud elsewhere." "What duty is it speaks so big?" said the hermit, smiling, as though he spoke with a child, to humour it from its wilfulness. "I am one in high place," answered Kophetua. "I am master of wide lands, and the well-being of the people calls me back." "Ah, thou art like them all, my son," said the hermit sadly; "and yet there is better than that in thee. I was even so myself long years ago. Far away to the northward, by the blue waters of the Mediterranean, I had authority over men. I had struggled for it from boyhood, for I knew there was no peace save in breeding happiness for the world; so I sought and won high place that I might teach men virtue and wisdom, and make laws to force them to it." "And that is my life too," cried Kophetua. "It is the life it is cowardice to leave." "Nay, hear me," continued the hermit. "There are worse sins than cowardice; and those are they which men commit in the life I led. For, mark me, however thou shalt ponder and prune and assay, yet every law thou shalt make to uproot an abuse shall sow the seed of twenty more. What law was ever proclaimed that did not bring evil in its train? I saw my choicest measures, that had cost me all the wisdom and strength that was in me, imperfect, always imperfect. As I passed by the ruins of the evil I had smitten, lo! I saw on all hands new crimes for men to commit. Look forward, I tell thee, as far as thou wilt, and look again and again in thy diligence to foresee the results for good or evil of what thou art about to do; strain thine eyes each time further into the unborn time, till men shall wonder at thy foresight; yet never, never shalt thou see the end. Even close in front of where thy vision reached at furthest may slumber an evil tenfold more pestilent than that thou wouldst destroy, and the forces thou hast started shall waken it at last. If man will meddle with God's work, evil will come in the end. If he shall try to drive the chariot of the sun, he will only scorch the earth. God planted His laws in the beginning of the world that they might grow in His strength. It is only because men, in the vanity of their false wisdom, have cut and pruned and forced them to unnatural growth that there is evil in the world. Leave them alone, I say, and sin not." "Nay, rather," cried Kophetua, "leave them and sin perforce. For how shall a man find the path of virtue if he cease to try and better his neighbours' lot." "God has shown us the way," exclaimed the abbot, as one inspired; "join us, and thou shalt see it too. To this end woman was given to man, and man to woman. Take thou a woman to thyself, and find in her food to feed thy yearning. Take one soul, and live for it. To desire more is but vanity and ambition. Men will think themselves so great that one is not enough for their devotion; but God meant otherwise. Man and woman He made to be together, one perfect being. To cement this unity He gave us the noble yearning of unselfishness, which has gone so wide astray. In their pride men let it dissipate itself in ambitious philanthropy. Love for the race is a dream. It is love of man and wife that is the only truth." Kophetua could not but be moved by the man's earnestness, so strangely unhinged as he was by his surroundings and his troubles. The evils that the old knight's grandest fancy had bred came vividly before him. Did this hermit give the key of the mystery why his own life had been as great a failure as the beggar-guild? The hermit's solution of the great problem was easy; and sweet as it was easy. "But I have no wife," objected the King, as he felt himself yielding. "Ay, but there is one within thy reach," said the abbot. "Take her whom thou broughtest hither last night." "But there is none to wed us here," answered Kophetua, still seeking an escape from the influence around him; "we will depart, and come again as man and wife." "There is no need," said the hermit. "It is not ceremonies that unite two half-souls into one. Stay here the period of probation. Consecrate thy life to her; sacrifice thine every hour to her greater comfort; offer to her thine every thought and every action till the months of thy noviciate be expired. By such ennobling service shalt thou find thyself more truly wed to her than by the grandest and most solemn rites that ever priests devised. Why, thou knowest it is true! Didst thou not feel it last night, when thou couldst not deny she was thy wife?" Then the King could answer nothing; he wandered away without a word, and talked with other hermits. All had the same doctrine to preach, and each time its truth sank deeper into Kophetua's heart. Day after day went by, and still he did not depart. All day long the King and the beggar-maid wandered by the side of the busy river like lovers, and never were parted, save when the night fell and the abbess came to call Penelophon to the cell beside her own, or when Kophetua climbed up into the hanging woods to trap a deer and snare her a bird. Hours they spent fishing, and took but little; for the King had no eye for his float, let it bob how it would. The most part of the time he would lie upon the flowery meadow, gazing like one bewitched at that for which he lived; and that was Penelophon, sitting before him and wreathing flowers and singing a low song, that mingled harmoniously with the happy hum of the little lives of which the air was full. Ever and again she ceased, and the King crept to her to put his arm about her lovingly, and gently kiss the delicate face, as though he sipped honey from a flower. Between each kiss she looked at him, still in shy wonder, not able to believe such happiness was real. So they would sit a little space, till the King was minded of his fishing, and rose to cast his line anew. That business done, he stretched himself upon the grass again to watch his float, and never watched it. For the maid began another garland and another song, as one that dreamed, and the King must feed his eyes again till his lips grew envious once more. So the two worshipped one the other, and with idyllic ritual dallied through the long marriage service which the hermits had enjoined. CHAPTER XXIII. AN OFFICIAL REPORT. "And she behaved herself that day As if she had never walkt the way." Kophetua's disappearance did little to allay the storm that was brewing in the political world. For, of course, it was very soon known that he had disappeared. News was scarce in Oneiria, and greedily sought for. To keep such a savoury morsel from the maw of the quidnuncs was even beyond Captain Pertinax's powers. The simultaneous escape of the beggar-maid was naturally mentioned. Not that the informers wished to suggest any scandalous inferences, but merely in the interests of justice. Those who were not in the secret of her connection with the King had inexhaustible information on the point of a most authentic type. The few who knew carefully held their peace. The Queen-mother, labouring under her unhappy misconception of the case, was heart-broken. The move she had been so proud of had brought about the very catastrophe she dreaded. She was inconsolable, and in a few days retired to her country house, and refused to see any one. As for Turbo, he was not a little anxious. His respect for the King was considerably increased by recent events, and he had a suspicion that Kophetua meant to spring a bride on him after all. He consulted his fellow-conspirator, and found that the Marquis had received the matter with his usual light-hearted confidence. "It is merely a question of hastening the revolution a little," said M. de Tricotrin airily. "We must resolve the Council into a Committee of Safety, call a Convention Parliament, declare the throne vacant, and pass our Provisional Constitution. Nothing is simpler. On the whole, this new situation improves our prospects." M. de Tricotrin ran off his programme as glibly as though a revolution were no more difficult than the arrangement of so many pleasant little parties, for which it was merely necessary to send out notes of invitation. Turbo was not so confident. General Dolabella was sounded. He had joined the triumvirate on the express understanding that nothing violent or precipitate or vulgar was to be done. He had been assured that the revolution should not so much as break the skin of the constitution; and he adhered. Now, to the Marquis's proposition, he offered an unqualified dissent. "Create your committee," he said, "if you like. I have no objection; but I cannot answer for my party, nor for the army nor the Church, if the Convention Parliament meets a day sooner than the natural end of his majesty's reign; and I must insist that, before taking any steps whatever, some official effort be made to discover the fate of the King." Being commander-in-chief the General had to be humoured. As a conspirator, he was not a success. He was full of vanity and nervousness; and every one knows that is a union which breeds nothing so much as obstruction. He himself pardonably mistook the two qualities which he brought to the revolutionary councils for self-reliance and vigilance. He was always making a fuss; and, in order to remove the obstacles which he raised with prodigal fertility, Turbo and the Marquis found it more and more necessary to let him into their confidence. The idea of the conspirators was naturally enough a republic on the Roman lines. The classics were popular at the time, and the Dual Consulate seemed peculiarly adapted for tiding over the real question which was nearest their hearts. For, of course, both Turbo and the Marquis merely regarded a republic as the foundation for a tyranny which each of them intended for himself; and had not the General's vanity been fathomless, he would have been overwhelmed with the caresses which each of his colleagues showered upon him, with a view to obtaining an ally when the final struggle began. Meanwhile everything went on as smoothly as could be expected. The conspirators and their immediate partisans anticipated no difficulty in inducing the House to accept the new constitution. The consular form seemed to remove every difficulty. Turbo would represent the Kallist party; de Tricotrin, who had quite stepped into the shoes of the Queen-mother since her retirement, the Agathist. It was agreed that they were to be the first two consuls; while the General was to be flattered and his party consoled with the Presidency of the Senate. Dolabella was also to retain his present offices, with an enlarged salary, in view of his past services and increasing family. So very attractive, indeed, was the prospect which the Chancellor and the Marquis had sketched out, that they were both desperately anxious to see it put in with permanent colours. They lost no time in fulfilling the General's preliminary condition--a commission was appointed to report on the disappearance of the King and the chances of his return. Voluminous evidence was taken; but the only fragment of it all that was of any value was the testimony of Captain Pertinax, and he protested that he neither knew nor could guess anything of his master's movements. The commission promptly reported itself a failure. Theoretically, the King's person no longer existed. He was a factor that could now be eliminated from the problem. It was done without delay; the Committee of Safety began to sit, and the General's nervousness was redoubled. Yet he was not without his consolation, and he availed himself of it almost intemperately. To every new cajolery which Turbo could invent to win over the Commander-in-chief, M. de Tricotrin had one overwhelming answer, and that was his daughter. Mlle de Tricotrin, having been initiated into the whole plot, consented to obey her father's instructions, and make desperate love to the soft-hearted General, or rather to allow him to make love to her. Could anything have added to the unhappy girl's misery, it would have been this. The old beau's gallantries were insufferable after the splendid homage of Kophetua; and the abasement under which she groaned at having to endure them with a smile was proportional to the self-respect which the King's chivalrous admiration had revived. She hated and despised herself more than ever. The memory of Penelophon's betrayal pricked and scourged her into a deep melancholy. By it she had lost not only the new-born faith in herself, but her earthly paradise as well. For as such she knew it now--the life that might have been hers. She knew that at last she loved the man whom at first she only desired. She felt she could give the whole world to have his love in return. Throneless and penniless she would take him now, and give more to win him than an empire. And this was the man she had driven to suicide or madness--she knew not what. By her crime she had poisoned herself in his eyes, and her handmaid too; and he she loved so well had fled the world in despair. She knew him well, and understood it all. It was a torment almost past endurance, and yet day by day she must smile beneath it, and push her father's scheme to try and drive the memory from her head. So she lay one afternoon upon her divan, little more than a week before the King's reign would come to an end, feeling, as the catastrophe drew near, there was nothing she would not do to repair the wrong of which she was guilty. She was awaiting the General's now daily visit, dressed voluptuously in one of those wonderful _demi-toilettes_, which drove the foolish old officer to the verge of distraction, and made him feel that one hour of her society, even at the tantalising distance she preserved, was compensation enough for all the little ease at home with which Madame Dolabella's jealousy made itself evident. In due course he made his appearance; but it was not with the gallant air that usually distinguished him. He was evidently excited. "Mademoiselle!" he cried, seating himself beside her without ceremony or greeting, and spreading out a paper. "See here. What shall I do? I must do something, and there is no one I may safely consult but yourself." "My dear General," said Mlle de Tricotrin, "calm yourself, and tell me all about it." "Calm myself!" said the General, sinking his voice to an agitated whisper. "How can I? The King is alive, and I know where he is!" Mlle de Tricotrin started up, and, seizing the paper from the General's hand, began to read it eagerly. Her beautiful lips parted, and her breath came quick and fast, as her eye ran down the lines. It was a report addressed to the Minister of Public Worship by the Abbot of the Cañon Hermits, giving him official intimation of the arrival of two novices, and furnishing him with particulars of their personal appearance for purposes of preliminary registration. "There is no doubt who the novices are," she said. "Not the slightest," answered the General; and then stopped, as he saw the eyes he adored dim with tears. In a moment she understood it all, and knew that another had won the love for which she could never cease to hunger. It was a bitter morsel between her lips; yet the desire to repair the injury she had done, and regain a little of the good opinion she had forfeited, prevailed over all. She had lost him, she knew, and her only consolation was to make him regret her. Could she but find some means to release him from his enchantment it would be done. His eyes would be open, and he would see what a mistake he had made. "What do you propose to do?" she asked abruptly, as she rose from her couch to hide her tears. "To get the Committee of Safety summoned at once," he said, "and inform them of what I have discovered, that they may immediately dissolve themselves and send a deputation to the King, imploring his return." "And you will explain to my father and the Chancellor," said Héloise, "that the revolution must go no further." "Precisely." "And find yourself in the Tower before the day is over." "My dear mademoiselle!" cried the General in alarm, "what do you mean?" "Why, my poor friend," she answered, "do you think they will go back now, with their hands on the prize? No! you have gone so far; you must go to the end. You are committed to a republic and the King's deposition." "But this is terrible. I never intended----" "I dare say not, General; but they intended all this for you, and it is I that have been told off to make a fool of you. Don't you see that?" "It is a little difficult at first," said the unhappy warrior lugubriously. "So much the better," said Mlle de Tricotrin. "Pretend it is impossible. They must not think you see through them. Let no one get a sight of this report. Go on just as before; keep their eyes shut a few days longer, and leave the rest to me." "But, my dear mademoiselle," objected Dolabella, "you cannot appreciate what it is you ask. You, no doubt, being a Frenchwoman, are used to revolutions. But to me they are unusual occurrences, and I cannot help them making me a little anxious and nervous. How can you ask me to further this desperate plot now I am aware of its enormity, on the mere chance that you, a woman----" "Hush, my General!" she said, putting her little soft hand over his mouth, with the prettiest gesture in the world, and looking with all her art into his dazzled eyes. "Is it possible you distrust your _déesse_?" "If I distrust, mademoiselle," said the soft-hearted soldier, utterly overcome, "at least it is impossible to resist. I will act implicitly by your directions. Deign to tell me what they are at this moment." For a little while she paced up and down the room, not regarding her foolish adorer. Her face was flushed and agitated, as thoughts, good and evil, battled once more for supremacy. Love whispered revenge, and love whispered devotion. To which voice would she give ear at last? She felt it in her power to lift up the man who had discarded her to his throne again, or to condemn him for ever to the life which she knew would soon become intolerable to his refinement. Suddenly she paused before the General. "Place Captain Pertinax under my orders, and send him to me at once." Like a queen she gave him her command, held her hand for him to kiss, and waved his dismissal without another word. CHAPTER XXIV. THE SACRIFICE OF LOVE. "And when he felt the arrow pricke, Which in his tender heart did sticke, He looketh as he would dye." It is not to be denied that in the course of a few weeks Kophetua began to find the hermits' marriage ceremony not a little irksome. It was not that the idea was any the less attractive to his imagination. Their notion of the real meaning of the period of affiance commended itself entirely to his lofty sentiments. He felt it was a reproach to civilisation that a few prayers and ritualistic forms should have been suffered to supplant the long vigil of the betrothal. The matrimonial state of his ideal was one long sacrament of transcendent sanctity, and he had come to believe that only by months of mutual worship and sacrifice could two lives be consecrated together. He grappled the situation with all the fanatical ardour of which a poet alone is capable; but from Penelophon he could get no response. For hours he talked melodious mysticism to her in the homeliest phrases he could find, but she only looked at him in ever-increasing wonder, till her face grew so troubled that he was compelled to cease and take her soothingly in his arms to pet her like a child. Then she could understand; and, when his lips gently touched her cheek, she crept close to him, and often began to cry quite quietly, to think how far they were apart, though they sat so close. The old stained dress she wore was always tearing on the rocks and brakes, and hung in rags about her. Each new rent seemed to widen the gap; and, though she nestled never so near when his arms closed about her, she felt him growing each day more godlike, and herself sinking deeper back to beggardom. He strove to make her set him tasks to do for her, and she never could think of anything but a flower for him to fetch or a deer to kill, and always she cried when he was gone, for very shame that such a man should do such work for her. One day, when he had tried his hardest to make her see with his eyes, and she seemed still more troubled than ever, she had asked for a flower that grew on the cliffs above, knowing it was the best way to please him. So he hastened away with studied devotion, and quickly reached the summit. There he picked the blossom, and hurried down again, keeping steadfastly in his mind the while the wan, ragged figure, with the unkempt hair, that was awaiting him below. Leaping from rock to rock, he soon reached the zigzag path by which he himself had at first descended. As he sprang down into it out of the bushes, he was startled by a little cry, and the sound of a horse's feet. He looked up to see a vision that made his brain reel. For there before him, upon a splendid Arab, whose alarm she was controlling with matchless grace and skill, sat, more lovely in his eyes than ever, Mlle de Tricotrin. She was dressed in a riding costume of bewitching fashion, and her face was flushed and her eyes glittering in her efforts to quiet the startled horse. Everything about her was in perfect taste, and of the latest mode, and the air seemed redolent with the freshest breath of modern grace and refinement. He was painfully conscious of the impression this sudden meeting had made on him. He felt ashamed to be so caught, then angry at the intrusion, and turned on his heel to go. But another little cry, and a plunge of the horse, arrested him. His new movement had alarmed the frightened animal again. It was backing to the edge of the narrow path, where the precipice sank away to a depth of a hundred feet or more. Setting her lips, Mlle de Tricotrin was courageously trying to check the perilous movement, but in vain. Already her feet overhung the precipice. It was impossible for her to dismount, and Kophetua saw that any attempt to grasp the bridle could only be fatal. In a moment he was at her side. Seizing her by the waist, he dragged her from the saddle, and then, with one frantic plunge, the Arab crashed into the abyss below. For a little while he was obliged to support her as they stood, fearing she would faint. But she quickly recovered her strength. Then she quietly disengaged herself from his arm, and stood a little aloof. "Your majesty has saved my life," she said simply, and then stopped, as though too moved to say more; but her words seemed to mean a thousand things. "And how can I serve you further?" he asked, unable to take his eyes from her matchless beauty, as she stood before him trembling and agitated, with downcast eyes. "I only ask," she answered gently, "that you should pardon this intrusion and hear my errand." He bent his head in royal assent, and she continued. "I came not idly," she said; "I came to save your people from the terrible calamity my wickedness has brought upon them. I come, King," she burst out, looking full in his face, with a little tragic air that well became the situation, "to summon you back to the duty you have deserted, to call you to the throne you have abandoned, to bid you turn your flight and face the fight once more. I come to charge you remember the name you bear, and the memory of your ancestors. Full of the spirit of the old knight I come, and with the voice of the mighty dead I charge you rise from your enchantment. Traitors are creeping to your royal hearth. Rise up and strangle them. It was never so shamed before." Then, with glowing words, and form transfigured, as it were, by inspiration, she told him of the plot which was on foot to wrest the sceptre from him. As the rich voice rang in his ears, he began to catch her enthusiasm, till anger filled his heart, and his eyes were open. "By the splendour of God!" he cried, "they shall know a Kophetua is yet alive and reigns. I will return and crush them. If I leave the throne, it shall be of my own free will, and in favour of whom I will. I will return and teach them what it is to rouse the soul of the knight. Come! I will return, I say; I--and my Queen." His voice fell nervously as he uttered the last words, and she dropped her eyes and bowed her head in touching resignation that was almost more than he could bear. "You must descend with me," he said, with an embarrassed air, "to eat and rest before we start." So they went down together, he helping her past the difficult places; and each time he touched her hand he felt a thrill pass through him, as though some subtle poison was passing upon his life. "It is difficult to know how to thank you, mademoiselle," he said, after a long silence. "It is not thanks I desire," she answered. "It is forgiveness." "But how did you find my retreat," he asked quickly, to change the key. "Devotion to your majesty is a cunning guide," she replied. "It was that which showed me the way." "May I not know who were your allies?" he asked. "Your majesty may know anything that I have to tell. You have only to command." "Then I command; for, thanks to you, mademoiselle, I am still a King." "It was Captain Pertinax," she said, looking up with a bright, happy glance at his words. "He consented to bring me hither, when I told him what my errand was. He followed your trail the day after you fled, but never opened his lips till I begged him for your sake. He is waiting above till I return." "He shall not wait long," said the King, not a little touched by his new follower's fidelity, and feeling there was much in the world he had never known before. But he said no more; for now they emerged from the bushes, and came suddenly upon a beggar-girl standing in the meadow, a homely figure in shabby rags, with fingers stained with berry juice, and hair matted and unkempt, and a wan, vacant face. What had happened? Was this indeed the idol he had been gilding so long? Was she so suddenly changed, or were his eyes dazzled by the vision on which he had been gazing too long? Penelophon it was, indeed, and quite unchanged. Mlle de Tricotrin knew her at once; and, while Kophetua stood stricken with a sickening sense of disillusionment, she went towards the wondering girl. On her finger was the King's signet ring, and Héloise recognised it immediately. So, with the air of resigned humility that was so telling in that queen of women, she knelt upon the grass and loyally kissed the beggar-maid's hand. "I crave your majesty's pardon," she said, as she bent over the berry-stained fingers. Kophetua could endure no more. "She is not my wife!" he cried hastily. "We are not married yet. Rise, and reserve your homage till our wedding day." Mlle de Tricotrin rose as he spoke. Their eyes met; the same thought flashed across them both, bringing a flush on the face of each. As it were in lines of fire, he saw the mistake he had made. He saw there was nothing about his idol but the mystic robes in which he had clothed it. It was his own dreaming he had been trying to love. Bright and resistless as the morning Héloise had burst upon him, and he knew the day from the night. Bitter indeed was the awakening; for, come what would, he could never betray the woman to whom his troth was plighted. "Here is your flower, Penelophon," he said, and kissed her as he gave it. But the beggar-maid had no eyes but for her mistress, and she blushed like a guilty thing to see the look of anguish that came over the face she loved so well. Then suddenly she sprang from Kophetua's embrace, and, flinging herself at Héloise's feet, she sobbed and sobbed again. It was long before Penelophon's agitation could be calmed; but Mlle de Tricotrin coaxed away her tears at last, and then they sat beside the stream maturing their plan of action. Long Kophetua and Héloise talked. She was full of expedients, and he hung on her lips while she eagerly poured out to him her schemes for saving the throne. And Penelophon sat listening, but not to what their words were saying. Forgotten and unnoticed, she sat gazing upon them with unspeakable sadness. Their voices said things to her that were more than she could bear. They told her plainly that in the pursuit of her own happiness no lasting joy was to be found. How could she ever delight in her own poor ballad if it stood in the way of so full a poem being sung. And, as she listened to the harmony of the souls she loved, there came to her fragile face a weary smile, sadder than all her tears. Still, unperceived, she quietly rose and wandered away across the meadow. From time to time she looked back to where they sat absorbed in each other. She marked Héloise's animated talk, and she saw the noble look of resolution that illumined her hero's face. Still smiling, as might some martyr as rude hands bound her to the stake, she wandered on, nor ever stopped, except where she could get a glimpse of the lessening figures beside the stream. At last she came to where the gendarme's horse was cropping the turf, and Captain Pertinax was snoring loudly on the sward. She looked at the handsome, soldierly figure for a while with a strange expression, and then awoke him. "Rise, Captain," she cried; "I bring you orders from the King." He was on his feet in a moment, rigidly saluting her. "To-morrow at dawn his majesty will set out for the capital to do the work you know of. To you he commits me. You saved me once, and it is to you he trusts me again. Mount and away. For you are to go before and see me to a place of safety. See, here is your warrant," and with that she held out to him her hand, on which was the King's signet ring. "But how are we to travel?" said the Captain uneasily, saluting the ring. "You must take me on the saddle before you," she answered, with a pretty smile, that redoubled the gendarme's uneasiness. "You do not mind that?" "Mind it, mistress!" said he. "No, but----" "Then, I pray you lose no time," she replied, "but this instant strap your cloak upon the saddle to make a seat for me." She went to him as she spoke, and laid her hand coaxingly on his arm. Poor Penelophon! she could be woman enough with this rough soldier, and she did not scruple to turn against him the honourable weapons with which her weakness was armed. Where is the true woman who would not do the same, and do it well in a good cause? Never in her life had Penelophon so armed herself before. But the skill to wield the gentle weapons is born in every woman that is worth the name, and she knew her part as though she had practised it all her life, and she saw she was gaining ground by strides. Men's fullest might may appear when they are struggling for themselves, but a woman is strongest for those she loves. She saw he could not hold out long, and grew more winsome every moment, as the bitter end for which she fought drew near. While Captain Pertinax was getting ready her seat, she prattled such gentle nothings, and helped him with such pretty confusion, that the big soldier was almost undone; and, as soon as they were on their way, an ominous silence fell upon them. Penelophon was holding on by the Captain's belt, and he, with a troubled air, sitting far back away from her, as though she were a noxious thing. Presently she looked up at him shyly, as though she were about to say something. He was looking resolutely in front of him. Still it could not be but that their eyes met. He quickly stared ahead again, and twisted his moustache fiercely. In a few minutes it happened again, and this time he desperately struck his spurs into the horse to relieve his feelings. The animal started forward, Penelophon reeled in the saddle, and he had to put his arm about her to prevent her falling. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him again with pretty diffidence; "I feel much safer now. There is no one takes care of me like you." Then once more her prattle flowed; and, beating down the shame she felt as his arm closed more and more fondly about her, she stabbed him with tongue and eye and dimpled smiles till flesh and blood could endure no more. The pretty little form was now nestling close to him in frank confidence. Once more he struggled to be loyal to his master's charge, and then he bent down and kissed the delicate face. She winced just a little--he could feel that--and the blood rushed to her face; and somehow he felt, in a moment, thoroughly ashamed of himself. "Do you love me then so much?" she asked, looking up at him frankly once more. "'Sblood! lass," he burst out, "could iron and stone help loving such a little flower? I love you more than my sword, and more than my horse--ay, and more than the King himself." "Ah! then," she said, "I can give you all the King's orders. I did not like to before." He could feel her trembling in his embrace, and his voice was very gentle as he answered, "Why, pretty one," he said, "what were they?" "He said," she answered, bravely meeting his passionate gaze, "that I should never be safe from my persecutors till I was some brave fellow's wife." "And he said that I was to be the man?" cried Pertinax eagerly. "But I could not give you his order," she answered shyly. "Heaven bless him! Heaven bless you!" he said, with feeling, and kissed her again, and pressed her to him so fondly that she began to feel very peaceful and reconciled. She continued to beguile him with such pretty talk as she never could find for the King, and the big soldier was beside himself with love and tenderness. He begged her to tell him when she would marry him. Once more he thought she shuddered in his embrace, but it might have been fancy; for directly afterwards she put her hand in his, and looked up at him tenderly as she answered. "When we reach the castle," she said. "There is no need to wait. The priest shall do it in the little chapel at the foot of the hills. It is better so; for then all will be safe, and we can wait till the King comes, and journey onward all in one company." Vainly Kophetua and Héloise sought for Penelophon when the time came to set out. Not a trace of her could they find, and the Titanic walls of the cañon flung back their cries unanswered. They looked one at the other guiltily, and made their search far apart and in different directions. At last the abbot told them he had seen her climbing the bridle-path that led out of the cañon. There was no time to lose. The journey could not be delayed. So the King lifted Héloise on to his horse, and himself going on foot, led it up the ravine in pursuit. Not a word he spoke, but looked resolutely onward, trying to catch a glimpse of the grey rags. Nor did she seek to break the silence or attract his attention. She saw well his agitation at being thus alone with her, and she sat upon the horse with downcast eyes, as though she too were ashamed. She was resolved to do no treason to the girl she had wronged. The self-respect for which she longed told her it was best, and love told her that resignation was the only means to turn to her the heart for which she pined. In this way they reached the spot where Pertinax had waited. He was gone too. Again the King searched and shouted, and the echoes seemed to laugh and mock at him, as though they knew he did not hope to find, but only dreaded to begin the journey anew. But it could not be put off for long. Time was flying, and if the throne were to be saved they must hasten on their way. He returned nervous and agitated to where the beauty lay, resting amongst the flowers in an attitude of enchanting grace. Her loveliness was like a pain to him; but fate had fastened them together, and the ordeal to which he felt his manhood unequal must begin at last. "Mademoiselle," said he abruptly, "it is useless to seek further. We must ride away fast in pursuit." Their eyes met a moment. A flush overspread her face, and Kophetua turned away, to throw himself fiercely into the saddle. No sooner was he mounted than she came to his side, with a little air of embarrassment. At his curt request she put her dainty foot on his, and he lifted her up in front of him on to Penelophon's cushion. A glade of turf stretched away before them, and it was necessary to make the most of it before the difficult desert was reached, in order to recover the time they had lost. For one moment the King sat irresolute; in another he had desperately put his arm about the bewitching shape, drawn the soft burden to his breast, and with heart aflame, and head in a delirious whirl, was spurring on at a rapid pace between the rustling trees. So, like Pertinax and Penelophon, upon one horse, and with hearts that beat as one, Kophetua and Héloise came to the King's hunting-tower. The shades of night had closed the day that followed. The moonlight was glimmering in through the narrow windows of the chamber where Mlle de Tricotrin lay. Not a sign of Penelophon had been found, nor had Captain Pertinax returned. Oppressed with the silence of the night in the lonely castle, Héloise was haunted by a terrible idea. She began to be certain that her handmaid had destroyed herself. The awful stillness seemed to whisper "murderess" to her uneasy conscience, and an appalling sense of guilt tormented her. Long she lay in fevered unrest; but at last, wearied with her arduous journey, and exhausted with the sweet excitement of the ride, she fell into a restless slumber. But still she tossed uneasily upon her couch. The arm of him she had tried to steal from her victim seemed still about her. The last passionate kiss, in which he had said "Good night," still tingled on her lips. With a distinctness that terrified her, she felt his hand was once more pressing hers, and she started up wide awake. Still the pressure was there. Something was holding the hand which, in her restlessness, she had tossed outside the coverlet. With a low cry of terror she snatched it away; for there, crouching by her bedside in the ghostly moonlight, was the dim grey figure of her whose blood was on her head. In an agony she looked to find some brand upon her flesh where the spectre had touched it. She could see, in the white beams which fell upon it, there was none; but, with even greater terror, she knew her hand was wet with tears, and on it glistened the signet ring of the King. Then into the midst of her terror broke a stifled sob, and the spell began to dissolve. "Child," said Héloise, in a hoarse whisper, "is it you?" No answer came, but another sob, and Héloise stretched out her hand to touch what seemed her handmaid's tangled hair. Slowly she moved it, with bated breath, in an agony lest she should feel nothing. But it was flesh and blood indeed, and Penelophon seized the hand that touched her, and covered it with kisses. In a few broken words she told her tale, and Héloise listened and blushed like a culprit who receives the reprimand of some august and stainless court. "But where have you been?" was all she could think of to say when the tale was done. "We hid in the town down there away from you," Penelophon answered. "For after we were married he was afraid of the King's anger, and bid me let no one know till he had set Trecenito on the throne again, and then he would be forgiven. But I could not wait. So at dusk I stole up to the castle, and lay in the outhouses till all was still; then I crept up here, where I heard them say you were lodged, for I could not bear to think you were mourning for Trecenito; so I thought to come and put his ring on your finger that you might know he was yours and you were his at last. I would have done it secretly, and then departed; but you awoke, and I could not but tell you all, and hear your voice. For God knows," she continued, breaking down again, "I want comfort. He is kind and good, but it is a terrible thing I have done. I have given myself to buy the happiness of him we both love--you and I. It is done, and I would not have it undone; but, indeed, it is a terrible thing, and hard to bear when I am not near you or him." "Stay, stay, Penelophon!" cried Mlle de Tricotrin; "I cannot bear to hear you speak like this. You are a saint, an angel, and I am worse than the fiends. You shall always be near me, and make me like yourself. You shall never leave me again. Come now to me; come and lie in my arms, and try to make me like yourself." As she spoke she clasped the slight grey figure to her breast, and soon the two loves of Kophetua were sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. CHAPTER XXV. THE CROWN OF KISSES. "And when the wedding day was come, The king commanded strait." The events of the next few days need not be told at any great length. Indeed, they belong more properly to the general history of Oneiria than to the foregoing episode, and are certainly a little too tragic to be pleasant reading. The last day of Kophetua's celibate reign began with a formidable riot. M. de Tricotrin had put the second string to his bow. He was a true Parisian, and for political purposes a mob held the next place in his esteem to a woman. "The two things resemble each other closely," he was fond of saying. "Both are impulsive, fickle, and easily cajoled. Any one who can manage the one can control the other." He regarded himself as in full enjoyment of this capacity, and on the desertion of his daughter he at once looked out for a mob to fill the gap she had left in his ranks. Within the Liberties of St. Lazarus he found an organised rabble ready to his hand. In his character of intelligent foreigner he had already visited them several times under a safe conduct from the "Emperor," and had at once recognised their capabilities as a revolutionary engine. At the present crisis he lost no time in renewing his previous acquaintances, and found that the Jacobin seedlings which, like the Laird of Dumbiedykes, he was "aye stickin' in," as a matter of habit, wherever he went, had flourished exceedingly. They had been growing while he was sleeping. He found himself in the midst of a vigorous crop of rods for the chastisement of his rival and the cleansing of the precincts which he meant to be sacred to himself. Furthermore, he found out Penelophon's father, and through his agency was able to redouble the energy of his machinery by stirring up a _Jehad_ against Kophetua and Turbo for their profanation of the Liberties. The result of his diplomacy was that, on the morning upon which the Convention Parliament was to meet to vote the new constitution, the beggars poured like a flood from the Liberties and took possession of the House. Under the Marquis's direction they speedily set about barricading every approach to it, and when that work was well in hand the Frenchman gave the word to march upon the Tower and the Palace. On the way he was met by Turbo at the head of the royal watch; but a vigorous volley of stones and a roaring rush of the beggars put those purely ornamental officials to flight, and it was with difficulty that Turbo escaped to the palace. As it was, he received an ugly wound in the head from some rude missile; yet never for a moment did he lose his presence of mind, and with admirable coolness he set about the defence of his quarters, till the gendarmes, to whom at the first alarm a summons had been sent, should arrive. Meanwhile the most determined assaults followed one upon the other from the beggars. Showers of missiles crashed through the windows of the palace, and only ceased while ladders were set up for an attempted entry by the unprotected first floor. Again and again they were hurled down, and again and again a hail of stones and potsherds drove Turbo and his desperate followers from the windows. Nothing seemed to daunt the fury of the beggars, or to abate for a moment the awful clamour of the assault. The rioters were long past the Marquis's control; and when a number of the wildest were seen dragging straw and faggots to fire the building, he knew it was useless to thwart them; so he rushed into the thickest of the fray to inspire them to new efforts. A pile of inflammable materials soon rose against the palace; torches began to smoke on the outskirts of the howling mob, when suddenly a ringing cheer rose above all. The gendarmes were upon them. A roar from a hundred carbines drowned the yells of the maddened throng. The bullets tore through the swaying masses, and the bright blades of the cavalry glittered and grew red, as time after time they hurled themselves upon the mass, and wheeled and charged again. The beggars were helpless and terrified with the ping and thud of the bullets to which they were entirely unaccustomed. Assaulted from two sides, they were crowded into helplessness. The Marquis could do nothing. He was squeezed a hopeless prisoner against the faggots. The mob was leaderless, and now carbines began to flash and crack from the upper floors of the palace. Window after window was occupied by protruding muzzles, and a rain of bullets fell on the devoted mass below. The slaughter was fearful. The panic-stricken throng screamed for quarter; but Turbo looked on grimly with set lips, and would not utter a word to allay the carnage. Thinner and more frantic grew the struggling herd, till, in a last despairing frenzy, they hurled themselves upon one detachment of the breathless cavalry, and, with fearful loss, burst through their ranks. A rush for the Liberties followed, regardless of the sabres that charged through and through the flying groups. The townsfolk, who had remained secure at home while the danger lasted, now poured out to fall upon the helpless outcasts, and the slaughter never ceased till the last of the bleeding remnant was safe within the narrow tortuous streets behind the beggars' gate. Turbo had triumphed. On a ghastly heap of dead and dying beggars lay the Marquis de Tricotrin, with a bullet through his head. The Chancellor laughed to think what success after all he had reaped from his idea of concentrating the gendarmerie. He had lost his love, but he had gained a crown. After rapidly giving orders for blockading the beggars within the Liberties, and furnishing guards for the House, he sat down to consider the speech he would deliver to secure his election as head of the State. But his brain ached and throbbed, his wound seemed on fire, and he could not think. He sent for a surgeon, who insisted on bleeding him, and told him it would be certain death for him to attend the sitting of Parliament. He assured the Chancellor that his wound had produced concussion of the brain, and that he could not answer for the consequences if he exposed himself to the excitement of the approaching debate. Turbo knew the doctor was right, and felt only too acutely that he could not do justice to himself even if he attended the House. So he consented to remain at the palace and leave his cause in the hands of his lieutenants. In due course the Convention met under the presidency of General Dolabella. In spite of Turbo's enforced absence, the Kallists anticipated an easy victory, for the plain reason that there was no candidate but their own in the field. It was then to the surprise of everybody that Count Kora moved an amendment in favour of the Queen-mother. A scene of the wildest confusion ensued. Every one spoke at once, while the General exhausted himself in crying for order. Before noon it was understood that seventeen challenges had been given, and three of them fought in the courtyard. The mid-day adjournment alone allayed the storm, and the Kallikagathists took advantage of it to place a common-sense motion on the paper. Common-sense was their rarest treasure. It was their political and social panacea. Their faith in it was profound and, indeed, astonishing, as their specific was usually found to be compounded of the weakest elements of the other two parties' prescriptions. In the present crisis they did not belie their reputation. In dignified and well-restrained terms their motion recommended an address to the Queen-mother and the Chancellor, humbly requesting them to marry and rule the State as King and Queen by the advice of the Parliament. More furious than ever raged the storm as this cross-wind burst upon it; and, as from time to time news of the progress of the debate was brought to Turbo at the palace, he began to dwell strangely on Cromwell and his files of musketeers. But before he could make up his mind to take the violent course on which he was thinking, the door which led from the private garden staircase was suddenly burst open. Turbo started to his feet. A wild throb of his heart sent the blood rushing to his reeling head, and, glaring like a madman, he stood transfixed, with the sight of Kophetua and Penelophon hand in hand. They, too, were no less astonished. Early that morning, together with Captain Pertinax and Mlle de Tricotrin, they had secretly reached the old hunting lodge in the park. There the gendarme went out and gathered news of what was passing; on his return the Kings resolve was soon taken. Mlle de Tricotrin was conducted to her own house that she might change her dress for the coming ceremony. Pertinax was her escort, as it was considered necessary that the King should not run any risk of his presence being discovered till the last moment. Kophetua, therefore, undertook to see Penelophon to a place of safety. He could think of no better refuge than his own library, which he could reach by his private way. It was no wonder then that both were thunderstruck at the sight which met their eyes as they emerged from the dark stairway. The splendid room was literally wrecked. Every fragile thing in it was smashed to pieces. The floor was scattered with stones and potsherds. A heavy missile had struck the old knight's trophy, and his arms lay in a heap on the ground. The picture of the King and the beggar-maid was torn and riddled past recognition. But most shocking of all was the glaring, ghastly hideousness of Turbo in the midst. His face was pale as death, and rendered horrible beyond expression by the bloodstained cloth that concealed his forehead. It was not long that they stared at each other thus. Turbo's face began to work malignly, and at last he burst out into a demoniac scream, as he saw the sweet fruit of his lifelong scheming about to be snatched from his teeth. "Ah!" he cried, with terrible oaths, "you have her still--my own little love that you stole! You think you will steal the crown from me as well. With my own little love, whom you stole, you will steal it. Ha! ha! you think that? But I will tear my little love in shreds first. I will tear her, I will rend her, since my love can do no more. You think you have found a pretty head to wear the 'Crown of Kisses.' I tell you the people's kiss shall fall on a face that is dead, and you shall have a corpse for a Queen!" With another scream he rushed upon Penelophon, who stood rooted to the spot with terror. But in the midst of Turbo's frenzied outburst Kophetua had snatched up the old knight's rapier which lay at his feet, and as the mad Chancellor sprang upon his prey he fell back with an agonised scream. The long glittering blade had pierced him through and through, and he rolled over amongst the stones and potsherds, dead. The tragedy stirred into a godlike flow all the heroism of Kophetua. With the reeking rapier in his hand he felt he could face the whole world; and, striding from the polluted chamber, still holding Penelophon by the hand, he descended the great staircase to meet the guard who were timorously approaching to ascertain the meaning of the unearthly sounds in the library. The authority of Kophetua's presence was irresistible. In a very short time Penelophon was safe with a guard of the palace watch; and the King, mounted on a fresh horse, and followed by a troop of gendarmes, was on the way to the Marquis's house. Mlle de Tricotrin's toilette was complete when the King arrived, and she tripped down to him entirely concealed under a splendid mantilla of white lace. A led horse was ready for her. The King lifted her upon it. The cavalcade once more started, and, after threading its way through the corpses and groaning heaps of the wounded beggars, that sometimes almost blocked the way, they reached the courtyard of the House. Two prominent members were fencing furiously before the portico, and it seemed clear the Kings approach was unsuspected. One officious chamberlain had hurried off unbidden to announce it; but so wild was the confusion and excitement within that he could get no one to listen to him. No wonder then that the whole throng was struck dumb and the uproar hushed as in a voice of thunder the King was heard demanding in constitutional form admission to the House. Without waiting for an answer he pushed his way through the astonished crowd that covered the floor. In his right hand he still held the old knight's rapier, red with Turbo's blood; in the other he led the veiled white figure of the woman who accompanied him. Awed by the mystery and majesty of the King's entrance, the members all fell back, and Kophetua and his companion ascended the dais, where Dolabella rose to receive them. For a little while the King stood, sword in hand, proudly surveying the murmuring throng beneath him, and waiting for complete silence. But the murmurs only increased. A whisper was spreading from member to member that the King had arrived at the palace with a ragged beggar-girl, and meant to insult the nation and deride the constitution by making her his Queen at the last moment. Some of the members in the back rows began crying, "Long live the Republic!" and others who were nearer called out, "Privilege! privilege!" At last some one dared to shout, "Down with the beggar King and his light-o'-love." Then a new fire flashed from Kophetua's eyes, and, swinging aloft his bloodstained rapier, with a commanding gesture he thundered out, "Silence for your King!" In a moment the assembly was hushed, as though the wings of death had passed over it, and the impassioned voice of the angered monarch rose solemnly out of the silence. "Traitors!" he cried. "Behold the blood of a traitor. The sword of the old knight has this hour made new its youth with the blood of your leader, and I am strong in its strength. Beware how you teach it to thirst again; for if it cries to me for traitors' blood, by the splendour of God I will give it drink! But what is the need? To you, as to me, our ancient laws are sacred. By them I am still your King, and in devout subjection to them I bring you a Queen to crown. Behold her!" So saying, he swept the white veil from the figure at his side, and a strange low murmur passed over the throng, as though some witchcraft had struck them dumb. However the more violent members had been tempted to resent the Kings threatening speech, the vision which was suddenly flashed upon them paralysed every other thought. Mlle de Tricotrin's education had not been such as to make her under-estimate the importance of the part she had to play at the supreme moment. It has been said it was the custom of the country for the would-be queen to be presented to the House armed with every device that could enhance her charms. Mlle de Tricotrin knew the custom well, and took advantage of the opportunity the King had afforded her of doing justice to his forethought. Kophetua had had every confidence in the personal impression she would make; but even he started and held his breath to look on the figure he had just unveiled. For a moment he was shocked that his wife should so have made herself an eye-feast for the gaping throng, but his pain gave place immediately to pleasure to see how her beauty triumphed. Indeed, it was dazzling beyond expression. Everything about her voluptuous costumes to which the prudes had objected before was this day boldly exaggerated. The family diamonds, to which through all his troubles the Marquis had clung, shone upon her white arms and breast, and flashed out from her luxuriant hair. The soft thin robe that wrapped her seemed meant to display rather than to hide. As she raised her beautiful eyes, that they might see her loveliness to the full, a burning flush overspread her face, and seemed to redouble her beauty. It was more than the strength and boldness to which she had trusted could endure. A sudden shame to think how she stood there alone, exposed before that throng of men, overwhelmed her. Too late she learned how Kophetua's love had changed her. The devouring eyes of the ravished throng were piercing her like knives. She began to tremble violently, and Kophetua seized her hand. "Kneel," he whispered, "and be brave a little while longer." A renewed murmur of admiration arose, as with matchless grace she knelt on the cushion which Kophetua had pushed to her feet. The new pose, and the accomplished sweep she gave her drapery as she assumed it, inflamed the assembly anew. A confused murmur arose; and in the midst General Dolabella, unable any longer to control himself, sprang from his chair, clasped the kneeling beauty in his arms, and kissed her heartily on the lips. "Rise!" he cried, beside himself with excitement at the prospect of an end to his political anxieties, and the intoxication of the salute. "Rise, my dear young lady, crowned with a people's kiss!" She sprang from his embrace to her lover's arms, and, hiding her face on his breast, burst into tears. In a moment he had veiled his treasure again from further profanation, and even as he did so the assembly found voice. The Oneirians, it has been said, were an imaginative people, and the scene they had just witnessed took them by storm. With one accord they shouted, "Long live Kophetua and his Queen of Kisses!" nor did they cease till every man of them had filed by to claim his privilege of saluting the new Queen's hand. The ceremony was long, but Héloise endured it well. For, with Kophetua's arm about her, she soon recovered her courage; and, unveiling her blushing face, she looked so radiant with happiness, and smiled with such ravishing sweetness on each member as he came, that there was not one who would not there and then have died for her sake. In a triumph of loyal enthusiasm, the King and Queen-elect rode back to the palace, and there were married in the chapel. The ceremony was necessarily a quiet one. It was attended only by the great officers of state and the personal adherents of the bride and bridegroom. Pertinax was there in his new capacity of Gentleman of the King's Bedchamber, and Penelophon radiant and happy to think she was chief Bower-lady to the Queen. After the ceremony, when Pertinax attended the King to his privy chamber, he announced that he had a report to make. He had taken the liberty, he said, while the King was at the House, of leading his own troop of gendarmes into the precincts of St. Lazarus, to complete the work for which he had been originally summoned. "I discovered the Beggar Emperor," he said, "on his throne in the Guildhall, and hanged him in front of it. I trust your majesty will forgive me. He behaved disgracefully to my wife." Kophetua winced; he felt he had deserved hanging on the same charge, but consoled himself to think how devoted a substitute Penelophon had found, and smilingly commended his favourite's zeal. Captain Pertinax had not reported the whole of his proceedings; for when Penelophon entered her mistress's boudoir, to which Héloise had been conducted in state, the Queen noticed she wore a strange ornament of gold upon her head, and asked her what it was. "It is the Beggar Emperor's crown," she said, looking down and blushing. "But where did you get it from?" asked the Queen. "My Pertinax took it and gave it me," answered Penelophon; and then with a shy smile went on, "He said if Trecenito's wife were a Queen, his bride was worthy to be an Empress. So he crowned me with the Emperor's crown; and--and he crowned me with kisses too." "Then you love him," cried the Queen, looking up fondly at her handmaid. "He is very kind," said Penelophon; "but while you are here for me to love I think I can never love another." Then Héloise felt a guilty pang like the King, and resolved to deserve the measureless love of the two hearts she had won. Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty, _at the Edinburgh University Press_. ADVERTISEMENTS _BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ THE FALL OF ASGARD, A Story of St. Olaf's Day. Two Vols. Globe 8vo. 12s. SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. The _Athenæum_ says:--'Mr. Corbett's story deserves the welcome that is due to a successful excursion into a comparatively untrodden region--that of mediæval Norse history.... 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32923	----	My Kalulu, Prince, King and Slave, by Henry M. Stanley. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ MY KALULU, PRINCE, KING AND SLAVE, BY HENRY M. STANLEY. CHAPTER ONE. THE BEAUTIFUL AMINA, SHEIKH AMER'S WIFE--ARABS IN CONSULTATION--THE COUNTRY OF RUA--BEAUTIFUL WOMEN OF RUA--THE CONSUL'S SON--SELIM AND ISA ARE PERMITTED TO JOIN THE EXPEDITION--LUDHA DAMHA OFFERS TO LEND MONEY-- SELIM TELLS HIS MOTHER--SELIM'S MANLINESS AROUSED--SELIM ARGUES WITH HIS MOTHER--THE EXPEDITION SETS SAIL FOR BAGAMOYO. About four miles north of the city of Zanzibar, and about half a mile removed from a beautiful bay, lived, not many years ago, surrounded by his kinsmen and friends, a noble Arab of the tribe of Beni-Hassan,-- Sheikh Amer bin Osman. [Amer bin Osman means, Amer, son of Osman.] Sheikh Amer was a noble by descent and untarnished blood from a long line of illustrious Arab ancestry; he was noble in disposition, noble in his large liberal charity, and noble in his treatment of his numerous black dependents. Amer's wife--his favourite wife--was the sweet gazelle-eyed daughter of Othman bin Ghees, of the tribe of the Beni-Abbas. She was her husband's counterpart in disposition and temper, and was qualified to reign queen of his heart and harem for numerous other virtues. Though few Arabs spoke of her in presence of her husband, or asked about her health or well-being--as it is contrary to the custom of the Arabs-- still the friends of Amer knew well what transpired under his roof. The faithful slaves of Amer never omitted an opportunity to declare the goodness and many virtues of Amina, Amer's wife. A young European, chancing to ride on one of Prince Majid's horses by the estate of Amer, one afternoon, casually obtained a glance at the sweet face of Amina, which made such an impression on his mind that he continually dwelt upon it as on a happy dream. Some of this young European's phrases deserve to be repeated in justice to the Arab lady whom he so admired. "She was the most beautiful woman my eyes ever rested upon. I felt a shock of admiration as I caught that one short view of her face. I felt a keen regret that I could see no more of the exquisite features of her extraordinary face. If I were a painter, I know I should be for ever endeavouring to preserve a trace of the divine beauty of that Arab woman; my brush would ever hover about the eyes in a vain hope that I could transmit to canvas the marvellously limpid, yet glowing look of her eyes, or near the finely chiselled lips, tinting them with the rubiest of colours, or ever trying to imitate the pure complexion, yet always despairing to approach the perfection, one glance indelibly fixed on my memory." Around Amer's large roomy mansion grew a grove of orange and mangoe trees. The fields of his estate numbered many acres, well-tilled and planted with cinnamon, cloves, oranges, mangoes, pomegranates, guavas, and numerous other fruit-trees; they produced also every variety of vegetable and grain known on the Island of Zanzibar. By dint of labour, and personal exertion, and superintendence of the proprietor the estate was considered to be one of the most flourishing on the island. A sacrifice of a large amount of ready money had so improved and embellished the mansion, that the oldest inhabitant who remembered Osman, Amer's father, hardly recognised it as the house of Osman. A large marble courtyard, in the centre of which stood a handsome fountain of the same costly stone, was one of the many additions made to the house by Amer after the demise of his father. Marble troughs outside the mansion had also been erected for the use of the Moslemised slaves, that they might wash their feet and hands before attending the prayers in the mesdjid [Chapel or church] of the mansion, which were rigidly observed with all the ceremonies usual in Moslem temples. Amer, the son of Osman, had but one son, called Selim, by his favourite wife Amina. Not less dear to him was this boy than was his wife. In the boy's handsome features, large glowing black eyes, and clear complexion he saw what he had received from his lovely mother, and in the boy's graceful vigorous form he recognised himself, when at his age he looked up to his father Osman as the paragon of all men upon earth. Selim's age, when this story begins, was a few months over fifteen; and it is at the usual evening symposium, which takes place near the even sloping beach of the little bay in front of Amer's mansion, that we are first introduced to one of the heroes of our story. It is near sunset, and a group composed of Amer bin Osman, Khamis bin Abdullah--a wealthy African trader just returned from the interior of Africa, with an immense number of ivory tusks and slaves--Sheikh Mohammed, a native of Zanzibar, a neighbour and kinsman of Amer; Sheikh Thani, son of Mussoud, an experienced old trader in Africa; Sheikh Mussoud, son of Abdullah, a portly, fine-looking Arab of Muscat; Sheikhs Hamdan and Amran, also natives of Zanzibar, though pure-blooded Arabs-- were seated on fine Persian carpets placed on the beach, near enough to the pretty little wavelets which were rolled by the evening zephyrs up the snowy sand to hear distinctly their music, but still far enough from them to avoid any dampness. Close to this group of elderly and noble-looking Arabs was another consisting of young people who were the sons or near relatives of each of the Arabs above-mentioned. There were Suleiman and Soud, nephews of Amer bin Osman, gaudily-dressed youths; there was Isa, a tall dark-coloured boy, son of Sheikh Thani; there were Abdullah and Mussoud, two boys of fourteen and twelve years respectively, sons of Sheikh Mohammed, whose complexions were as purely white as black-eyed descendants of Ishmael can well be; and lastly, there was the beloved son of Amer, son of Osman--Selim, whose appearance at once challenged attention from his frank, ingenuous, honest face, his clear complexion, his beautiful eyes, and the promise which his well-formed graceful figure gave of a perfect manhood in the future. Selim was dressed in a short jacket of fine crimson cloth braided with gold, a snowy white muslin disdasheh, or shirt, reaching below the knees, bound around the waist by a rich Muscat sohari or check. On his head he wore a gold-tasselled red fez, folded around by a costly turban, which enhanced the appearance of the handsome face beneath it. While all eyes are directed west at the dark-blue loom of the African continent away many miles beyond the greyish-green waters of the sea of Zanzibar, Amer, son of Osman, remarks to his friends in a musing tone: "I have sat here, close to my own mangoes, almost every evening for the last twenty years looking towards that dark line of land, and always wishing to go nearer to it, to see for myself the land where all the ivory and slaves that the Arab traders bring to Zanzibar come from." Directing his eyes towards Khamis bin Abdullah, Amer continued: "And never has the desire to leave my house and travel to Africa been so strong as this evening, when thou, Sheikh informest me that thou hast brought with thee 600 slaves and 800 frasilah [a frasilah is equivalent to 35 pounds in weight] of ivory from Ufipas and Marungu. It is wonderful! Wallahi! Five hundred slaves if they are tolerably healthy are worth at least 10,000 dollars, and 800 frasilah of ivory are worth, at 50 dollars the frasilah, 40,000 dollars, nearly half a lakh of rupees altogether, and all this thou hast collected in five years' travels. Wallahi! it is wonderful! By the Prophet!--blessed be his name--I must see the land for myself. I shall see it, please God!" and as he finished speaking he began to wipe his brow violently, a sign with him that he was excited and determined. "What I have spoken is God's truth," said Khamis bin Abdullah, "and Allah knows it. But there are many more wonderful countries than Marungu and Ufipa. Rua, several days further toward the setting of the sun, is a great country, and few Arabs have been there yet. Sayd, the son of Habib, has been to Rua, and much further; he has been across to the sea of the setting sun, and has married a wife from among the white people who live at San Paul de Loanda. Sayd is so great a traveller, I should fear to say what land he has not seen. Mashallah! Sayd, I believe, has seen all lands and all peoples. He says that ivory is used in Rua by the Pagans as we use wooden stanchions or posts to support the eaves of our houses, that ivory holds their huts up, and he believes great stores of it are known to the savages, where some of their great hunters have killed a large number of elephants, and have left the ivory to rot, not knowing how valuable it is, or where a great herd of elephants have perished from thirst or disease. However the knowledge came to these people, or whatever the cause which left such a store of ivory in that country, Sayd, the son of Habib, is certain that there is an unlimited quantity of this precious stuff in Rua, and that we can make ourselves richer than Prince Majid, our Sultan, if we go in time, before the report is common among the Arabs. What money I have made this time on my last trip is so small, compared to what I might have realised, that I mean to try my fortune again in Africa shortly, Inshallah!--please God! I intend going to Rua, and if thou, Amer bin Osman, hast a mind to accompany me, I promise thee that thou wilt not repent it." "Amer bin Osman," replied Amer, "goes not back on his word. By my beard, I have said I shall go, and, if it be God's will, I shall be ready for thee when thou goest. But tell us, son of Abdullah, what of the Pagans of Rua, and those lands near the Great Lakes? Do they make good slaves, and do they sell well in our market? Yet I need hardly ask thee, for I have two men whom I purchased when young, about twenty years ago, who I believe are more faithful than any slave born in my house." "Good slaves!" echoed Khamis. "Thou hast said it. Finer people are not to be found, from Masr to Kilwa, than those of Rua and the lands adjoining. And clever slaves, too! Those Pagans make the best spears, and swords, and daggers found in Africa. Indeed, some of their work would shame that of our best Zanzibar artificers. Near a place called Kitanga--where that is I don't know, but Sayd, the son of Habib, can tell--there is a hill almost entirely of pure copper, and from this hill the people get vast quantities of copper, which they work into beautiful bracelets, armlets, anklets, and such things. Nothing to be seen in Muscat even can equal the work the son of Habib has witnessed." "Mashallah!" cried Amer, delighted; "thou makest me more and more anxious to go to the strange land. A hill of copper!--pure copper! The Pagans must really be a fine people, and rich, too. If it were only possible to catch two or three hundred slaves of the kind thou speakest of, I might be able to laugh in the face of that dog of a Banyan Bamji, and old Ludha Damha himself could not hold his head higher than I could then. I owe the dogs a turn, for the heavy usury they exacted of me when I needed much ready money to make my courtyard and fountains. But the women, noble Khamis, thou hast said nothing of them. Tell us what kind of women are seen in those rich lands." "Ah, yes, do tell us of the women," chimed in two or three others, who had not yet spoken. "I have seen but one of the women of Rua," answered Khamis, "and she was the wife of the son of Sayd, the son of Habib, a tall, lithesome girl of sixteen years or so. Her lower limbs were as clean and well-made as those of an antelope. She walked like the daughter of a chief. Her eyes were like two deep wells of shining moving water. Her face was like the moon, in colour and form. Oh! the colour was almost as clear and light as thy son Selim's, Amer. She was beautiful as a Peri-banou-- God be praised!" "Thy tongue runs away with thee, Khamis," cried Amer, in a slightly offended tone, "or hast thou imbibed too much of the strong drink of the Nazarenes, for the celebration of thy late success? Light-complexioned women, of the colour of my son Selim's face! Where art thou, Selim, son of Amer, pride of the Beni-Hassan? Thou chief's son by birth and blood, and apple of thy father's eye! Come hither." "Behold me, my father, I am here," said Selim, who had bounded lightly to his feet, and now stood before his father, after kissing his right hand for the affectionate terms lavished on him. "Speak, son of Abdullah; behold, my boy, and regard his colour, which is like unto that of rich cream. Is he not as white as any Nazarene? and wilt thou repeat what thou hast said about the Pagan wife, of Sayd's son?" "Khamis, the son of Abdullah, debauches not himself with the strong drink of the foolish Nazarenes. I lie not. I said I have seen a daughter of the Warua whom Sayd's son has taken for wife, and she is almost as light in colour as thy son, Selim, and far lighter than the face of the boy, Isa, son of Sheikh Thani." "Wonderful! Wallahi!" echoed the group. "It is most wonderful. We shall all go to obtain wives from the Warua." "Then, kinsmen and friends," cried Amer, "Khamis speaks the truth, and speaks of wonderful things. Is it agreed that we go to Rua with the son of Abdullah, to get ivory, slaves, and copper, and light-coloured wives?" "It is," they all replied, so deeply impressed were they with what Khamis had said. "I am glad to hear it, my friends," said Khamis; "but ye must now agree, before we break up, as the sun is fast setting, upon the day of departure. I cannot wait long, because I am nearly ready, but I am willing to wait a few days, if ye will all promise to be ready by the new moon, twenty-four days from this evening. Ye must also promise to take as many of your slaves as ye can, that we may make a strong party. Tell me, Sheikh Amer, how many of thy people armed canst thou take with thee?" "Who?--I? I can take two hundred well-armed servants, besides my two faithful fundis, Simba and Moto, as they are called by the slaves, who are worth an army by themselves, and--" "Let me go, my father," cried Selim, seating himself on the carpet close to his father's knees, and looking up to his face with eager, entreating eyes, "I can shoot. Thou knowest the new gun which thou didst send for to London, in the land of the English, and which the good balyuz [Balyuz is an Arabic word for consul, or rather ambassador] taught me how to use. The balyuz told me the other day that I would be able to shoot better than he could, by-and-by. I can shoot a bird on the wing already with it. Give thy consent, and let me accompany thee, father. I will be both good and brave, I promise thee." "Hear the boy!" said Amer, admiringly. "A true Bedaween could not have spoken otherwise. But why dost thou wish to leave thy mother, child, so soon?" "My mother will regret me, I know, but I am now strong and big, and it is not good for me to remain in the harem all my life. I must quit my mother some time, for work which all men must do." "And who gave thee such ideas, son Selim? Who told thee thou wert too big to remain with thy mother?" "The other day I went out with Suleiman, son of Prince Majid, and the young son of the American balyuz--I can't pronounce his name--to shoot wild birds. The young American boy, who is smaller than I am, and already thinks himself a man, though he is no bigger than my hand, laughed at me; and when I asked him why he laughed, he said to me, `Truly, Selim, thou appearest to me to be like a little girl whose mother bathes her in new milk every day to preserve her complexion. I cannot understand the spirit of an Arab boy which contents itself with looking no further out-doors than within sight of a mother's eyes.' These are the words he spoke to me within hearing of Suleiman, Majid's son, who also laughed at me, while I felt my cheeks were red with shame, they tingled so." "Tush, boy! What is it to thee what the thoughts of a forward Nazarene lad are? Thou art not of his race or kin. But I must own to ye, my friends," said Amer, turning to the elders, "that the youths of the Nazarenes [Nazarene is the Arabic term for Christian] are bolder than ours, though they do not possess higher courage or loftier spirit than our own children. Who would have thought that such large independence could hide within the little body of the American balyuz's son? That small child cannot be twelve years old, yet he talks with the wisdom of a man. All the Nazarenes are wonderful people--wonderful! Who are stronger, richer than the Nazarenes of England?" "Ah, but, father," said Selim; "do you not think the Nazarenes are accursed of God, and of the prophet Mohammed--blessed be his name? The American boy told me the Arabs are wicked, and are accursed of God. Said he to me that same day in hearing of the Sultan's son, as if he was not a bit afraid of the consequences, `The Lord God makes his anger known against the Arabs by refusing knowledge and the gifts of understanding unto them, because they are wicked, because they go forth into Africa with armed servants a-plenty to destroy and kill the poor black people, and to take slaves of parents and children, whom they bring to Zanzibar to sell for their own profit.' Is he not an unbeliever, father?" "Peace, Selim; let not thy tongue utter such words against the true believers, though they may have been said by a young dog like that. Cast them away from thee entirely, and let not thy father hear thee utter aught against thine own race and kindred. To the unbelievers God has said, `Woe unto them; they shall be the prey of the flames.'" "But, father, thou art not offended with me? Thou hast not yet given thy consent to my going with thee and my kinsman." "Dost thou know, my child, that the Pagans are fierce, that they have great spears and knives, and will cut that slim neck of thine, and perhaps eat thee without compunction?" asked Amer, smiling. "I fear them not," answered Selim, tossing his head back proudly. "When did a son of the great tribe of Beni-Hassan show fear? and shall I, the son of a chief of that tribe--the son of Amer bin Osman--look upon the faces of the Pagans with fear in my heart?" "Then thou shalt go with me, were it only for those last words. But fear not, Allah will care for thee," said Amer, solemnly laying his broad hand on his son's head. "Let us end this before the sun sets," said Khamis impatiently, watching the descent of the sun. "How many men canst thou take with thee, Sheikh Thani?" "Thani has a son--Isa," answered that worthy trader. "Thani is poor compared to Amer, but he can call round him fifty well-armed slaves, who will stand by him to the death." "That is answered well, and Isa is a likely lad, though his skin is dark; but he has the soul of an Arab father in him. I see we shall have a glorious company; and thou, Mussoud?" said Khamis, to that florid-faced chief, who was proud of his intensely black and handsome beard, "How many canst thou muster?" "About the same as my friend Thani," replied Mussoud, caressing his beard. "All my people are Wahiyow, docile, and good; and, if cornered, brave. They will follow me anywhere." "Good again!" ejaculated Khamis, evidently pleased. "And thou, Sheikh Mohammed?" he asked of the chief so named, who had a terrible reputation in the interior among the Wafipa and Wa-marungu, and of whom many tribes stood in awe,--"how many of thy people wilt thou take to Africa this time?" "Well," said Mohammed, in a deep voice, which resembled the bellow of a wild buffalo, "for such a grand project as this I think I can take one hundred men from my estate; my head men can take charge of the rest with Bashid, my brother, very well. I shall also take these young lions-- Abdullah and Mussoud--with me, to teach them how to catch slaves and claw them, as I have done often." "Thanks, father," replied the grateful youths, who as soon as they had said these words looked up slyly to Selim, who smiled appreciatingly at his boyfriends. "Sultan, son of Ali," said Khamis, "thou art a strong and wise man. Wilt thou be one of us?" Sultan, son of Ali, was a man of about fifty, or perhaps fifty-five, of strongly-marked features, who had keen black eyes. Strong and wise, as Khamis bin Abdullah had said he was, indeed no one looking at him would doubt that he was one of the best specimens of a hardy Bedaween chief that ever came to Zanzibar. Besides, Sultan had been an officer of high rank in the army of Prince Thouweynee of Muscat, who had often eulogised Sultan for his daring, obstinacy, forethought, and skill in handling his wild cavalry. He was still, as might be seen, in the prime of mature manhood, which age had not deteriorated in the least. Sultan answered Khamis readily. "Where my dear friend Amer bin Osman goes, I go. Shall I remain at Zanzibar eating mangoes when Amer, my kinsman, is in danger? No! Son of Abdullah, thou mayest count me of thy party for good or for evil, and I can raise eighty slaves to shoulder guns for this journey." "Good, good," the Arabs said, unanimously. "Where the stout son of Ali goes, the road is straight and danger is not known." "Well," said Khamis bin Abdullah, "we have now four hundred and eighty men promised; I will take with me a hundred and fifty men with guns, and I dare say Sheikhs Hamdan and Amram and a few other friends will bring the force up to seven hundred. Isa, son of Salim, Mohammed son of Bashid, Bashid bin Suleiman, tall young men, and kinsmen to me, have already agreed to follow my fortunes. A large number of Arabs is always better than a few. I have one thing more to say before we rise to prayers--the sun is just sinking, I see--Ludha Damha, the collector of customs, has told me that if a strong party went with me he would let us have any amount of ready money at 50 per cent, annual interest, which is half the usual price he asks--the old dog!--and if any of you desire money, go to him for your outfit, for I will speak to him to-morrow morning and give him your names." "That is well-spoken, by my beard," said Mohammed. "I was thinking that we could not raise money under 100 per cent, interest from the Banyan usurer." "Very well, indeed," added Amer bin Osman. "Ludha Damha must be sure of a speedy return to let his money go so cheap. My mind is now perfectly made up; and, friends, the sun has set and we must to prayers." Saying which Amer rose--a signal which the Arabs readily understood. After the usual salaams, courtesies, and benedictions had been uttered, the Arabs departed each to his own home, at a slow and dignified pace, while Amer and his son Selim retired into the mesdjid of their own mansion. When Amer and Selim had ended their evening prayers, and had left the mesdjid or church belonging to the mansion, Selim asked, pulling at his father's robe: "Father, I see my mother at the lattice; may I go and tell her that I am to go with you to Africa?" "Ah, poor Amina! I forgot all about her," said Amer, stopping and speaking in a regretful tone. "Selim, my son, this is sad. Amina will never permit thy departure. It would break her heart." "But I must go sometime from home, father. Why not now? With whom can I be safer than with thee? I am not going with strangers, nor am I leaving my kindred. I am going with thy kindred, thy household, and thyself. What can my mother object to?" "Thou art right, Selim--thou art right! She cannot object. Our slaves, our kindred are going--but--but--poor Amina, she will be left alone. Go, Selim, tell her kindly. It will pain her." And Amer turned shortly away, as if he had sudden and important business in another direction. Selim, on the other hand, bounded lightly away, arrived at the great carved door of the mansion, ran up the broad stairs, and made his way to the harem, or the women's apartments, where Amina reigned queen and mistress. Few boys of Selim's age could have approached their mother with the earnestly-respectful manner with which Selim approached Amina. I doubt even if the Queen of England's children ever observed such courteous respect towards their august parent as Selim observed now, and as most well-bred Arab boys do observe always toward their parents. Selim left his slippers outside, and lifting the latch quietly, walked in with bare feet, and, approaching his mother, kissed her right hand, and then her forehead, and at her invitation seated himself by her side, and suddenly remembering the all-important secret he had to communicate, looked up to his mother, with his handsome features all aglow. "Mother, canst thou tell me what I have come to say to thee?" Amina looked for an instant fondly on her son, and then answered with a smile-- "No, my son. Hast thou anything very important to tell me?" "Very important, mother," and he pursed his lips as if he would retain it for a long time before imparting it, and as if it were worth some trouble of guessing. "I wish thou wouldst not task my skill of divination too much. Thy face tells me thou art happy with it, but it does not assure me that I shall be equally happy. I divine only on the Kuran, and though thy face is innocent and without guile, yet it is more difficult to read than the Kuran. Tell it me, Selim, I pray thee." "Then, my mother, I am going with my father to Africa!" "To Africa, child! To Africa! Where is that? Thou dost not mean the mainland, surely?" "Yes, I mean far away into the interior of the mainland," replied Selim, still looking at his mother smilingly. "To the interior of Africa!" cried the poor woman in dismay, her face assuming the hue of sickness. "Why, what can thy father want in Africa?--he was never there before. What can he want there now?" "He is going to Africa with Khamis bin Abdullah, Sheikhs Mohammed, Thani, Mussoud, Sultan, Amran, Hamdan, and many others, to a far country called Rua, to buy ivory and slaves, and come back rich." "Going to Africa! To get rich! Oh, Allah!" cried out Amina, in accents of unfeigned surprise, mixed with emotion. "And thou art going with him--thou, a child? Art thou going to get rich too?" "I am to accompany my father and kinsmen, not to get rich, but to see the world, and learn how to be a man, to shoot lions, and leopards, zebras, and elephants, with my new English gun." "Cease thy prating, child; thy tongue runs at a fearful rate. Thou shoot lions and leopards! Thou! Why thou art but a baby, but lately weaned! Thou and thy father must be dreaming!" said Amina sharply, and with an attempt at a sneer. It was a brave attempt on the part of a nearly heart-broken woman, who would fain suppress the cry of anguish that struggled to her lips, but as she said the last words, one glance at Selim's face showed to her that such tactics, would never answer. The eaglet had been taught that wings were made to fly with. The boy had been rudely laughed at, and his latent manliness aroused, by the son of the American consul, who had sneered at him. Selim had found that a head was on his shoulders which teemed with daring thoughts; that he had arms to his shoulders, and legs to his body, made on purpose, as it were, to execute such thoughts as the head conceived. With the culmination of such knowledge fled unregretfully the pleasant days of the harem, the memories of his romps with the girls, days upon days of effeminate life. Achilles was found out by the sight which he obtained of some war weapons. Selim had found out that he was a boy by a sneer. Charming as was his mother's company, happy as he had been with his feminine playmates, proud as he had been of his golden tassels and embroidery, fond as he had been of being loved and embraced as an entertaining young friend by little girls of his own age--all these experiences became inane and stupid compared to the overpowering consciousness he felt that he was a boy, and might in time become a strong man. A man! perish all other thoughts and memories, feelings, and reminiscences save those which tend to lead him to the goal of manhood, which he has set himself to reach by a journey to Africa, to the land of cannibals and lions, leopards and elephants, to the land of adventure, undying fable, and song. "Mother," said Selim, removing his turban and _fez_, as if his head-dress compressed the grand thought which filled his brain, "my childhood is passed. I have been thoroughly weaned from all things belonging to a child. I am now a strong boy, and in five years I shall be a man. Allah made the world, and made it to grow. It has been growing ever since it was made. Allah made infants; infants grow if they live; they become boys--boys become men. When I was an infant I had no understanding nor strength. Thou, my mother, didst point out to me my nourishment. I flourished on it, and in time was weaned. In a little time my strength availed me to put my own food into my own lips. I flourished on that food, and I became stronger still. Later I understood language, and answered thee with childish love and affection. I romped in the harem, and was happy. Then I was permitted to go out of doors unattended by my female attendant. I bathed in the sea. I learned to swim, and acquired games which boys learn one from another. I learned to ride on horses; I learned to shoot, and day by day I was getting stronger in body and limb, and with my strength has begun to grow my thoughts. These thoughts are thoughts of manhood, of duty; and the business of life, which I am beginning to learn, is serious. Mother, dear mother, my health required, when I was strong enough to enjoy out-of-door life, that I should run about and leap. Mother, my happiness demands that my thoughts should be humoured as my strength was. I find I am made of two parts--body and mind. Neither may be longer neglected--both must be humoured, or I die. If my body is not exercised out in the open air--if I be imprisoned in a harem, I shall become dwarfed. I shall not grow. If my mind is not exercised by seeing, and talking with many people--if I see no more than my mother and my mother's slaves--my mind cannot grow. I shall know nothing, and I shall become a fool. I, the son of Amer, the son of Osman, will be sneered at. It may not be, dear mother. I must go away, and learn the lesson of a man's life." "But, my dear son," said Amina, entreatingly, for she had been astonished and amazed at the amount of logic which the boy, to her surprise, had put forth in his statement. "Consider, thou art yet young, and that thou mayst wait awhile yet before journeying to that horrid land of negro savages. What canst thou find there to learn? Seeing lions and leopards, and elephants and ugly crocodiles, will not ripen thy mind. Surely thou art cruel to think of leaving me alone here--both my lord Amer and my son at one time!" "Nay, my mother, what I shall see in Africa will be new and strange. The sight of new and strange things is like the lessons which the good Imam used to give me at school from the Kuran. Every day I shall see something new, and every day I shall grow in wisdom and experience; and my mind will be enriched by each new thing, and in time will become a store of wisdom, to be applied to my advantage in affairs of life. Thou art surprised that I talk so, mother. I have been talking with wise white men. The consuls, who know everything, have been dropping strange ideas to me every day, not because I asked them, or that they dropped them for my benefit. Being permitted to play with their children, I have been in their presence while they were conducting their business, and the amount of wisdom the white men know is wonderful. Great thoughts--too great for me to understand--dropped from their mouths-- from one to another--just as those pearls which thou dost play with are passed from thy right hand to thy left." "It is well, my son. I have heard thee through. Thou art already older by many years than I took thee to be yesterday. Thou mayst tell my lord Amer how Amina received thy news. I will have something more to tell thee, before thou goest to Africa," and Amina arose to leave the apartment for another, humbly, and with her head bowed down. "My mother," cried Selim, springing up, and seizing her hand, which he conveyed respectfully to his lips, "be not offended. It is not my doing, but Allah's, and Allah's will be done!" "Ay, truly! Allah's will be done!" said the poor mother, embracing him, but with more restraint than usual. We are now compelled to leave each of the Arabs engaged to accompany Khamis bin Abdullah to Rua in search of ivory and slaves to make his preparations as he best knows how. It is not our duty to peer too closely into the small details of this business of preparation. It absorbs all one's time, and we feel sure if we troubled them to give us too minute an account of the manner in which they get along, some impatient expressions might escape to our regret. Therefore we think it better to leave each Arab alone, to the cunning of his own devices, to his calculations, and purchases, to his ever-recurring vexations, to the fatigue and anxiety which belong to the task of fitting out; merely observing, as we pass by, that each Arab purchases such beads, of such colours, as he thinks proper, such cloth as he deems suitable for his market, so much powder and lead as will sufficiently provide his men for the defence of his goods, should such be ever necessary, so many guns as he has men, such luxuries in the shape of crackers and potted sweets, sugar, tea, and coffee, as the chief of the caravan deems it necessary to take. "Nothing in excess, but enough of every necessary thing," is the golden rule adopted by all people about penetrating Central Africa. The Arab chiefs and their followers, though they generally take a long time to prepare a caravan, were in this instance, however, much to our pleasure, punctual to the day named, and at the beginning of the new moon of the sixth month of the year of the glorious Hegira 128-, or the year of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ 186-, the ships containing the expedition and the vast amount of stores requisite for the consumption of a large and imposing caravan for about three years, set sail in the morning from the open harbour of Zanzibar, for the port of Bagamoyo, on the mainland, distant twenty-five miles. Let us wave our snowy handkerchiefs to the travellers, for we have one or two young friends who accompany them. Let us wish them a cheery _bon voyage_, and a happy issue out of their enterprise, if it so happen that the Lord of Moslems and Christians looks down upon its purpose with favourable eye. Let us at least bear them good will until they have forfeited our good opinion by acts contrary to Christian charity and the good will to all men which that most loving God-Man, Jesus, preached unto us. CHAPTER TWO. BIDDING FAREWELL--AMINA'S FAREWELL TO SELIM--SELIM IN TEARS--SIMBA'S FEATS OF STRENGTH--MOTO'S CHARACTER DESCRIBED--LITTLE NIANI, THE BOY, CALLED MONKEY--MOTO MEETS ELEPHANTS--MOTO'S DARING ADVENTURE--A NARROW ESCAPE--THE STORY OF MOTO--KISESA PREPARES TO ATTACK--THE KING'S SON, KALULU--WHAT PRINCE KALULU SAID TO MOTO--SIMBA PRAISES MOTO. On the fifteenth day of the sixth month, the members of the last caravan, under the command of Amer bin Osman, were taking farewell of their friends, who had arrived at Bagamoyo from Zanzibar that morning for last words. It was a most affecting scene, as all such must be when young men are about to sever themselves from their connections for the first time, and fathers and husbands are commending to the care of the good God those whom they are about to leave behind, perhaps for ever. Who knows how many of these stalwart and stout-hearted people will return to those from whom they are now almost tearfully withdrawing? Will the brave and noble Amer son of Osman, who is now bending over his beautiful wife, in earnest conversation, ever come back? He appears so strong and robust in health; two hundred well-appointed servants of his household are round about him; his Arab companions, with their powerful retinue, who have gone before him to Simbamwenni, we may be sure, will be faithful to him. Yet who can insure his return? And thus doubt, fear, and anxiety alternate in his wife Amina's eyes, as she raises them appealingly, regretfully, towards his own. "Yes, Amina, please God, I shall come back within two years, with so much ivory, and so many slaves, as will make me the richest man in Zanzibar. Inshallah! Inshallah!" said Amer, in a sanguine tone. "Amina, say thy farewell to Selim, the pride of the Beni-Hassan. He will some day return to Oman, a rich and powerful chief. Dost thou not think he looks a warrior in his marching dress? But hasten, or we shall have nothing but women's tears, which perhaps will drown us before we begin our journey." As Amer turned away after a still but fervent embrace, Amina turned to Selim, with a look which revealed the love her maternal heart bore him, and so steadfastly did she regard him, that it seemed she was fixing a life-long picture of his features in her memory which time would in vain attempt to efface. "Thou, Selim," she said, drawing him nearer to her, "thou joy of my heart, and jewel of my eyes! Thou art really about to depart! Thou to leave thy mother's heart desolate! What joy is left for me--my son and lord both going? Wilt thou not let thy mother's voice plead, and prevail with thee, Selim? Look, Selim, on that dancing sea! Beyond the narrow strait lies the Zanjian isle! Over its fair shores the gentle winds waft the perfumes of citron and orange! The sweet scents of the jasmine flowers, the cinnamon and clove vie with the fragrance of the orange! Bare odours and sweet strains of bulbul lull the senses into perfect felicity! The sweet air is pregnant with fragrance! Where canst thou meet with a land so fair, my Selim? Wilt thou leave thy mother, these delights, these joys, for the cruel heat, and thirst, and jungle-thorn of negro-land? Oh, Selim! Oh, Selim! Wilt thou leave thy mother, the orange-groves, the palms, the cool fountains, for scorching days and arid plains? The road is long--oh, so long--for weeks, months, and years it lies to the west! Stay one moment longer, my Selim, and let thy mother read thee what the Kuran's sacred page, which I've divined, reveals. Remember, it is the sure decree of Fate, to which God has affixed his own heavy seal. Hear these words, and stay with me:-- "A day will come, a day of saddest woe, A day when Arabs meet the savage foe, And Arabs vainly cry for strength and might, And vainly strive to save themselves by flight. "It is a day of woe, a day of doom, A day surcharg'd with black and bitter gloom; And sons shall mourn for Arab fathers slain, And Arab wives shall shed their tears like rain. "Wilt thou stay with me now? No! Proud boy, shun the death and misery which wait this venture! Despise not the warning of Allah! Why wilt thou, oh Selim, shake thy head so stubbornly? Speak." "Dearest mother, it may not be. If Fate decrees my death and misery, then why should I try to escape its sure laws by remaining behind? If death awaits my father, Selim's place is by Amer's side, to die as becomes the son of an Arab chief. But these are but trivial fears of thine, my mother. Why shouldst thou fear for me? Am I not with my father, the brave Amer son of Osman? Have I not my gun and long-sword? What can the Pagan dogs do against all the great Arabs, and my father's kinsmen, when Khamis bin Abdullah, and Amer bin Osman lead? Trust in Allah, mother. Believe me, I shall return to thee, tall and strong, with plenty of ivory and slaves to make thee rich--to hang such jewels on thy neck as befits a chief's wife. Hark! the horn of the guide sounds the signal of departure. My father is impatient, and I must go to him. Embrace me, mother, and bless me ere I go." Amina, seeing persuasion useless, needed no command for such an affectionate duty. A full mother's love rose responsive to the call of her son, but her son's impatience rendered the embrace, though fervid, short. "Allah go with thee, my boy!" cried the mother. "And with thee also, for ever!" responded Selim. They were parted at last, one to join his father, who was striding forward with his caravan, the other to turn to a friend's house, to sob and weep, and think of the loved ones now fast retiring towards the west. For a long time father and son were silent. Amer strode on quickly, with an impassive countenance, whence all expression was banished save firmness, and a lofty air of determination. Selim, thorough son of a thorough Arab, with his head bent down mechanically followed his father's footsteps, and allowed the strange birds to rise, and sing, and fly unheeded about him, the sun to sink unheeded to the west, and the twilight to approach, without seeming to be at all conscious that he was marching to that grand, fabulous, awful heart of Africa, about which he had heard so much, and which he had craved in his heart of hearts to see. The silence was unbroken until the caravan had halted on the banks of the Kingani, then Selim recovered himself, and a copious flood of tears caused by a feeling of tender melancholy which came over him at the thought that he had really and actually left the pleasant happy home for that sable, ominous, forested land that stretched deathly still across the river. The father turned as he heard the deep sobs of his boy, and on approaching him laid his hand kindly on his head, and said: "What! in tears, my son? Art thou sorry thou hast left thy home--eh, Selim?" "No, father, I am not sorry, but home seemed so beautiful as I thought of it, compared to that still dark land beyond. There are nothing but black-looking forests across the river, even the sky looks black and desolate, and my heart seems to have caught some of its desolation." "The forest looks sombrous and dark, my son, because night approaches," said Amer, tenderly. "That black-looking sky which hastens from the east is but the counterpane earth draws about it before folding its arms to sleep. When we shall have crossed the river we will camp, and in the tent, which thou wilt learn to love as thy home, thou wilt forget thy present misery; and in the morning, when earth is wide awake, and the sun comes out as gay as a bride from the east, and the birds have all left their nests and fill the air with their joyous songs, and the fleet-footed antelope browses in the open glades, thou wilt wonder that thou couldst find it in thy heart to weep." "Oh, father, I shall weep no more. See, my eyes are already dry;" and Selim raised a brave face towards his father, which was tenderly kissed. The caravan was soon across the river, and every man and woman was engaged in cutting down young trees and branches to form a stockade, a duty not to be omitted by well-conducted caravans in Africa. When this was done the people gathered within the camp and prepared their evening meal. The tents were all disposed in a circle, with their doors open towards the centre, where stood Amer bin Osman's tent. Close by the master's tent, on either side, were two or three of the most faithful slaves, who were styled fundis, or overseers, to whom were given the orders for the conduct of the caravan by the chief. Over these overseers, for their fidelity and peculiar qualities, were placed two men, who are intended to figure conspicuously in this narrative; their names were Simba (Lion) and Moto (Fire). Where Amer bin Osman the chief went Simba and Moto followed. To these two Amer was as dear as their own hearts, and the boy Selim was their delight; his slightest wish was law to these faithful creatures, who looked upon him as though he were something immeasurably superior to them, as though he belonged to some higher world of which they had no comprehension. Simba was a giant in form, and a lion, as his name denoted, in strength and courage. He was originally from Urundi, a large country bordering the northeastern part of Lake Tanganika. He was the son of a chief, and was captured when a boy in battle when Moeni Khheri's father sided with the Wasige against Makala, a quarrelsome king living in the northern districts of Urundi. Being a chief's son he of course belonged to the Wahuma, a superior race of bronze-coloured people who formerly migrated from Ethiopia, and from whom only chiefs are selected in the countries of Urundi, Ruanda, Uganda, and Karagwah. Simba was now in the prime of manhood, and he had lived in the household of Amer bin Osman for twenty years, for Amer, after his arrival at Zanzibar, within a year of his capture, had purchased him, and seeing him to be docile and good-tempered, though uncommonly strong, had almost adopted him as his son. Some of Simba's feats of strength bordered on the marvellous. Taught by the young kinsmen of Amer the use of the long, sharp sword of the Arabs, and being apt, he had acquired a terrible proficiency with it. He had often walked up alongside of a full-grown goat, and had with one well dealt blow halved the animal from head to tail. Many of his negro admirers verily believed he could perform the same feat upon an ass, so extraordinary was his strength, but he had never attempted it, as the experiment was too costly for his means. He had once carried a three-year-old bullock on his back half way around the plantation of his master, Amer. He had often taken one of the large white donkeys of Muscat by the ears and by a sudden movement of his right foot, had prostrated the animal on his back; and once, upon an extraordinary occasion, had actually carried twelve men on his back and shoulders and chest around his master's house, to the intense wonder of a large crowd of spectators. He could toss an ordinary man ten feet high into the air, and catch him as easily as an ordinary man would catch a small child. But manifold were the stories related with awe of the feats of strength performed by the brave lion-hearted Simba, chief overseer of Amer bin Osman's caravan. By measurement he stood six feet and five inches in his bare feet, and from shoulder to shoulder he measured thirty-two inches. Moto, or "fire," could not have been better designated. His name, which his master had given him, had been bestowed upon him for his peppery, irascible temper. He was from Urori, as almost any one acquainted with the peculiarities of the various tribes in Central Africa would have sworn. A small wiry frame, indicating cat-like activity, strength, indomitability, capable of enduring great fatigue, characterised the form of Moto. He had also been brought to Zanzibar when a child by a slave-trader, and from a mere caprice had been purchased for twenty dollars by Amer. But his master had never regretted the purchase, for next to Simba, Amer bin Osman preferred Moto. To serve his master Moto would have thrown himself into the fire or leaped into the sea. He was a great hunter, he could track the soft velvet foot of the leopard upon a rock, could tell what animal had broken a blade of grass if a single hair but adhered to it, could stalk an elephant and tickle his belly with a straw without letting the enormous brute know what deadly foe intruded on his presence; and a man slightly inclined to exaggeration, and not at all noted for his veracity, declared by this and by that, that Moto had at one time dragged himself into a jungle after a lion, and, finding the lion asleep, had from sheer bravado walked noiselessly up to him and stepped over his body before he shot him through the head. If you knew Moto as well as his own best friends knew him, you would describe him as being as brave as a lion, active as a cat, keen-eyed as the fish-eagle, hot as pepper, as hardy as an ass, and faithful as a dog. If you will add that he was a little vain, and never disposed to resent any kind friend boasting of his prowess, you will have a perfect picture of Moto the Mrori. The first night on the road with some caravans is not very lively; the people are engaged either in thinking of the joys they have left behind them, or they are shy, and are sounding one another's qualities before making advances. But in the camp of Amer bin Osman there was no regret at parting from Zanzibar, since the great master and little master were with them, and every man knew his fellow and mate; thus there was no disruption of friendships, associations, and congenialities. Most of those who were married had their wives with them; those who were not married had their intimate friends and saw time-endeared faces around them. They were all of one household. It was like unto the migration of an entire settlement. One glance within the huts and at the squatting forms informed you that they were all happy--if not happy, contented. No eyes like the coal-black, the pure well of jet undefiled, of the native African, when the firelight is reflected in their quick sparkles, can so well represent merriness. Those people with those sparkling eyes were merry; they were interesting each other with their trite stories of very trite lives; but when a peal of laughter louder than usual startled the camp and rang through the forest, you may be sure it was either at a story of hearsay or at something that Simba or Moto had been saying. Such a laugh was heard, and instantly all eyes and mouths were uplifted, and ears seemed to be quickened, to catch a few words of the story that had caused an interested group to so loudly vent their delight. The interested party of laughers were seated around a miniature bonfire, which Simba and Moto had kindled some thirty feet or so from the chief's tent. Selim had lately arrived before it, and Simba had rolled a mighty log behind his young master and had asked him to be seated, himself seated on the ground, attentive and alert to please him; and Moto, not to be outdone in assiduity by Simba, had just begun to draw from the recesses of his memory, or from the cells of his imagination, one of his best stories, when a ludicrous incident occurred and Selim had laughed heartily. Their young master had laughed, and of course when he laughed Simba laughed; then seeing Simba laugh Moto laughed; and, as real genuine laughter is contagious, all hands laughed, and the outer circle, the entire caravan, smiled sympathetically. Moto had commenced his story thus: "One day, when I was in the caravan of Kisesa--(Abdullah bin Nasib--you know Kisesa is a great friend of my master Amer, and if Kisesa liked to have me accompany him, Master Amer would never say `No.' It is in his caravan as fundi I finished my education as a hunter)--travelling through Ukonongo, I--" "Have you been to Ukonongo, Moto?" asked Selim. "Oh, yes, and much farther. Well, I was saying, I--" "But, Moto," broke in Selim again, "Ukonongo is the best country for shooting, is it not?" "At certain seasons only. In the dry season, yes. Then all kinds of game travel to the neighbourhood of the Cow River, and shooting is plenty then, but for elephants give me Kawendi. I was just going to say, I--" "But, Moto," broke in a naked youngster called Niani, or the Monkey [Niani is a Kisawahili term for monkey], a nephew of Moto, "are there lions in Kawendi? because--" But he was not permitted to finish, as Moto sprang up furious, with his kurbash (a hippopotamus-hide whip) in hand. Niani noticed the movement, and with the activity of his namesake, took a flying leap over the fire, and alighted in a huge dish half full of rice that was slowly simmering over some hot embers. There was a loud shriek, and clots of hot rice splashed in all directions, several falling on the nude shoulders of the group, which started them all to their feet. Then Selim laughed heartily at the catastrophe. Simba followed, then Moto stayed his hand and laughed, and the laugh was taken by all, and this was the cause of that which startled the camp and drew our attention. "That is what some people get for interrupting a good story," said Moto, sententiously addressing unfortunate Niani, who was rubbing his scalded feet and moaning piteously in a low tone; but the words were said as more of a hint to Selim. "Well, go on, Moto; I will not disturb you another time," said Selim. "Ah, I did not mean you, dear master," replied Moto. "You may disturb me as often as you like." "Well, well, go on with your story, and let it be a good one," urged Selim. "All right, master. Well, I had just said that I was in the caravan of Kisesa, travelling through Ukonongo, when that little monkey Niani interrupted me, and so got--" "No, no, Moto, it was I that interrupted you; but go on with your story, and never mind poor Niani; he has got his punishment, and you punish me too by not telling me the story," asked Selim. "Yes, yes, Moto, go on!" said the deep-voiced Simba. "Do you not hear the young master ask you? Heh, what is the matter with the man to-night?" "Oh, well, if you are all going to interrupt me, the story will last from here to Rua," said Moto in a careless tone. "Moto," said Selim, "I will never disturb you any more--there's my hand on my promise." Moto's pride and vanity being gratified by this ready promise of Selim, cleared his throat, and commenced this time in earnest, as follows: "We were travelling through Ukonongo, and had reached Sultan Mrera's village, when Kisesa asked me to go to the forest along the river to look for game, adding that if I brought a Kudu antelope to the camp he would give me four yards of cotton cloth. "After a good breakfast of rice and carry, which Kisesa sent me from his table to make me strong, I started. It was then about noon, and the sun was very hot, though once in the forest it would be cool enough. In a short time I was by the river, a crooked little stream of delicious and clear water. I walked along, looking to the right and left constantly for hours, when just about two hours before sunset, I heard a hollow sound, as though the earth was shaking; but I knew, after listening, that the sound was caused by a herd of elephants walking in file along the hard-baked road, and that they were approaching the stream to drink. "In a moment I was down on my face like a dead man. The grass was about two feet high, and very thick, so that I was quite safe, if I did not stir, and I am too old a hunter not to know what to do in the neighbourhood of elephants. As the elephants passed by I lifted my head up cautiously, and counted them. Two--four--six--eight--ten enormous beasts, who tossed their trunks aloft, as if they were masters of the forest, and knew it. Careless and confident, they passed on, and I wriggled out until I was some distance away; then I jumped up and leaped across the stream, and on all fours crept across a deep bend of it; then lying flat along the ground, I moved forward towards a great tree, a baobab, that stood between me and them. If the elephants had all stood in a row drinking from the river I could never have come up to them unseen, but one greedily thirsty fellow was standing in the middle of the stream, almost touching the baobab tree with his side, so that he completely hid me from the others. "I thought that Kisesa, though he had not told me to shoot elephants, would not mind my bringing him two great ivory tusks, which would be worth at Zanzibar 500 dollars, since he had come to Ukonongo to get ivory, and that if he gave me four yards of cloth for a Kudu antelope, that he would give many more yards of cloth for 500 dollars worth of ivory. "This thought gave me confidence to proceed, and imperceptibly I was drawing nearer and nearer to the monster near the baobab. After a few minutes, which seemed to me to be hours, I was lifting myself to my feet, girding my loins tighter, and preparing myself for a run for life. But just at the moment I ought to have fired, a mischievous idea came into my head; the hind quarters of the brute were so close to me that I thought it would be great fun, and a good story to tell afterwards if I tickled the brute's tail. Gutting a long straw, I extended the point towards the tail, and then traced a line across the leg to the belly. It was delicious to watch the flurry of the short tail and the circles it described, and to watch the brute half leaning against the tree, and rubbing it with his ponderous form. When this play had lasted a short time, I brought down my gun, and pointing it about three inches or so behind the left fore leg, on a level with the position of the beast, I fired. The elephant sprang forward, and by doing so disclosed to the astonished eyes of the others my retreating form, which, I assure you, was bounding over the low bushes and grass tops as if I were an antelope. "The elephants got over their surprise in a second, then a wild snort of rage greeted my ears, and I knew by the crash, of bushes and splash of water that they were after me. Never an antelope bounded over the plains of Ukonongo, when chased by a lion, as I bounded then; never a timid quagga's fleet feet carried him away from the hunters as my feet carried me over that ground. But it seemed to me for a time as if it were of no use--the awful crashing got nearer and nearer, and as I turned my head to measure the distance the foremost was from me, I saw the lord of the herd was but thirty paces from me. He seemed to tower up to three times his usual height, and to swell out into proportions three times as vast as his natural size; his great ears stood straight out as flat as a board, as if they were wings, and his eyes were like coals of fire; his trunk was lifted up, as you sometimes see the deadly forest snake before it strikes his victim; his head was stretched out, as the head of a giraffe when chased by a beast of prey, and the two long, mighty, gleaming teeth seemed awful just then. His eyes caught a glance of mine as I turned them towards him, and that instant he uttered another snort of rage, which was as fearful as the war-horn of the Watuta. But it gave me greater speed; if I ran before, I now flew; yet closer and closer the monster came. I suppose he was about fifteen feet from me when the tricks of the elephant hunters of Urori came to my mind. I had noticed that though the big elephant was the foremost, he was also the outermost on my right--the other elephants were to my left, and they seemed to be following the lord of the herd rather than any particular object. In an instant after observing this, I shot out straight to the right from the direction I was first going as hard as my feet and legs would take me. The elephants passed on, the rushing sound of their feet going through the grass was like unto the wild pepo of Ugogo, accompanied by thunder, when it comes sweeping over the plain, with a moan and a rush, whirling and tossing bushes, and even small trees about sometimes, and darkening the air with what it tears from the earth. "I had got fifty yards away before the elephants could turn about. Only an instant, however, they stopped. They caught sight of me again, and with loud, furious snorting again they charged in a mass. I am a pretty swift runner as you all know, but the best of us seem to crawl compared to the speed of an elephant for the first few hundred yards. The elephants, especially one or two of the foremost, were gaining on me rapidly; the stubborn grass whipped my legs severely as I ran, and was a sore distress to me, but the thick hide of my pursuers was proof against it. A little distance off before me, and to the left, was a clump of brushwood. I thought if I could gain it, I would be comparatively safe, as I could find somewhere to hide. In a few moments I reached it, and looking sharply about, I discovered, a little distance off, half hidden by grass and brush, a hole in the ground, which I knew to be that of the wild boar. I thought it would be a capital place to hide, provided the boar was out of his hole, and in a second I was on my face crawling backwards into it. I had barely crawled in when I heard the elephants' thunder overhead, and at the same instant I heard a deep grunt behind me, and immediately after I was shot out of that hole, like a bullet out of a gun, and I lay on the ground a few paces from it like a dead man. I had just consciousness enough to know that I had been grievously wounded in one of my hams by the furious owner of the underground excavation in which I found shelter; that the boar had darted off in the direction the elephants had taken, then I lost all knowledge of everything for many hours. "When I recovered it was night. And soon I heard shots in the distance, fired at regular intervals, and thinking perhaps that they were my friends looking for me I fired my gun, which was immediately answered by another. By firing thus every few minutes I succeeded in guiding them to where I lay, for I found myself unable to move. "When my friends found me, and were acquainted with my condition, they lifted me on their shoulders and bore me to the camp, where I lay unable to move for about three weeks. The marks that savage boar gave me I have yet, and shall have to my dying day. I have spoken." "Well, what became of the elephant you shot?" asked Selim, when Moto had concluded his graphic and interesting story. "He was picked up next day, about two hours' distance from the place where I had shot him. His trail was easily known by his blood, Kisesa made quite a sum of money from that elephant, as the tusks were as large as any that were ever seen." "How many cloths did Kisesa give you?" asked Selim. "Only forty." "_Only_ forty? That was a good deal, was it not?" asked Selim. "Forty cloths for what brought him three hundred at Zanzibar! Do you call forty cloths a great deal?" asked the offended Moto. "But you forget, Moto," said Selim, "that you were a slave in the employ of Kisesa; that the gun you carried was his, that the powder and shot you used to shoot the elephant with were his, that the clothes you then wore were given you by him, that the food which gave you strength was purchased with his money, that the men who carried you from the forest to the camp were his slaves, that the men who looked after you when you were sick and wounded were his men, that the man who found the elephant dead belonged to Kisesa, and that without Kisesa's aid you would have died in the jungle, perhaps, and never have seen the elephant again. What do you say now, Moto?" asked Selim. "You are right, young master, as you are always," said the humiliated Moto, which remark was echoed and applauded by everybody around the camp-fire. "But, now," said the hitherto quiet Simba, "tell us about that battle Kisesa had with the Warori--your own people--and how you saved the king's son." "Ay, do tell us that. It must be an interesting story," said Selim. "I shall sleep all the better for it this first night of my life in Africa." "Well, when my friend Simba asks and my young master commands me, Moto is always ready," said Moto, adding a huge log to the already cheerful fire-pile. "It is not such a long time ago but what I can remember every detail of it. It may have happened three or four years ago; Kisesa was then in Unyanyembe. He was mortally offended with the Arab chief Sayd bin Salim, the Wali of the Sultan of Zanzibar at Unyanyembe, and most of the Arabs took sides with Kisesa, as they knew he was a brave, powerful, and rich chief, who might defy even the Sultan of Zanzibar if he chose to do so. "When Sayd bin Salim requested the Arabs to assist him in fighting the black chief of Kahama in Ugolo, Kisesa refused to go, and most of the other Arabs did the same, as they said that Kahama was but a small village and that the son of Salim had soldiers enough paid by the Sultan of Zanzibar to do that kind of fighting. Now the son of Salim, though he knows how to govern Arabs and keep the peace with peaceful merchants, has neither head nor heart for fighting. (It takes Kisesa to do that work.) So two or three weeks after Sayd bin Salim had gone to the war we were not at all astonished to see the Wali come back well beaten by Kahama; and Kisesa and the other Arabs had a good laugh at him. "When soon after the war with Urori broke out, and Sayd bin Salim was requested to call every Arab to the war, Sayd bin Salim refused; but said that if Kisesa desired to go, he, as king's governor of Unyanyembe, would empower Kisesa to lead the Arabs to war, and make him chief of the army. Kisesa accepted at once, and the principal Arabs at once volunteered to go with him. Within a very few days Kisesa left Unyanyembe with nearly a thousand men for Urori, so that Unyanyembe looked like a deserted place. "I think it was on the twentieth day--I am not sure--of the march, that after travelling through Unyangwira and Kokoro we came near Kwikuru, the capital of Urori. We slept on our arms that night until about the eighth hour, when at a given signal we all crept through the bushes for about an hour, and by the moonlight we saw just ahead of us the boma (palisade) of the king's village. I assure you we did not stop long to look at it, for our horns gave the signal and we all ran for the boma. Quick as a flash of powder in the musket-pan, as you may say, the men of Kisesa were at the palisade, and had their guns pointed at the village through the bare; but not a gun was fired, as Kisesa knew how to make war. "Kisesa blew his horn, and a voice from the village shouted out to ask who we were, and what we wanted. "Our chief replied, `Come out to fight, for Kisesa is at your gates.' "`Kisesa!' said the voice, in an astonished tone. `Kisesa! it cannot be Kisesa from Unyanyembe!' "`It is Kisesa, and no other man. I am Kisesa, and I have come to kill you.' "The man said then, `Kisesa has been in a hurry to die to come so soon to Kwikuru, the capital of the King of Urori. Does Kisesa usually fight in such a hurry? It has been our custom to talk first before we fight. What does Kisesa mean?' asked the King, for it was he, though we could not see him, as he took care not to let himself be seen. "`Thou art a dog, and a son of a dog!' answered Kisesa. `Hast thou not been making war upon our merchants, killing them in the forest for the sake of their ivory? Hast thou not been mutilating their young sons by cutting off their right hands? Hast thou not been beating the prisoners with sticks until many of them have died under the torture? Hast thou not asked for Kisesa, the great Arab warrior, that thou mightest flay him alive and make clothes of his skin to cover thy nakedness? Lo! Kisesa is here at thy gates; come and take his skin.' "`Kisesa, thou hast done well to come to me before I came for thee. Kisesa, thou art a good man, but I will flay thee alive nevertheless, and thou shalt know what it is to come to the gates of Mostana, like a thief at night. They told me thou wert brave. Is it brave to do what thou hast done? My young son Kalulu, who is but a child, is more than a match for thee. Halt where thou art until daylight, that we may at least see him who is said to be brave, but is but a night prowler!' "`Mostana, if that be thy name,' said Kisesa, `I will wait for thee until the sun appears in the east. Thou shalt then look on my face and die. I have spoken.' "So we all laid down close against the palisade outside. Every fifth man was to stand watch while the others slept. As soon as the sun appeared in the east, over the tops of the trees, the horns of Kisesa were heard, calling us all to be ready; and at the same time the drums of Mostana were heard. I had been sleeping soundly, and I now looked in between the posts of the palisade to see what kind of a place we were about to attack. It was a large village, circular, like all in Urori, but the palisades were strong, and but lately put up. There were scores of huts inside, but what struck me as something very uncommon in Urori was an inner enclosure (like, that in the King's village at Unyanyembe), which surrounded Mostana's quarters, so that he could from the inside hold out as long as we could outside if we were not more numerous or better armed than he. "We were not long before we were at it like lions, shooting into one another's faces, or as near them as the defences would permit. It was evident that Mostana was getting the worst of the fight, for we were far more numerous and had better guns, and farther apart from each other, while Mostana's people were crowded together, and every bullet that went in through the palisade wounded or killed some one, and the cries of the women and groans of the wounded were frightful. "After shooting at each other for an hour Kisesa gave notice to have the two gates opened, and into these we poured in crowds, and as fast as we got in we took advantage of the huts that were outside the king's quarters. Then, working ourselves gradually, shooting as we went, we sprang at the other palisade, and putting our guns through, fired into the crowds. I assure you the scene was horrible; the people dropped to the ground as fast as we could count them, so that in a short time the few that were left began to cry for mercy, shouting `Aman! Aman!' The gates of the inner defences, or the King's quarters, were broken open at once, and Kisesa's men bounded in, making such noise that might be heard a day's march from the village. They fired their guns, they hooted, they shouted, they sang. Were they not victors? I was carried in with the crowd which poured in towards the King's house. Old Mostana--he was not very old either--was fighting to the last, firing his arrows so fast into the crowd that many of Kisesa's men, even while they were singing the songs of victory, fell dead, pierced to the marrow with the deadly arrows which flew unerringly from his how. At his side was a young lad, younger by three years than Master Selim is; he was tall, straight, and slender as one of the light assegais he threw so dexterously and quickly into the crowds who were pressing onward towards the King. Kisesa himself was with us, and on seeing the matchless spirit and bearing of the boy, he shouted, `Kill Mostana, but save the boy. Fifty cloths to him who brings me Kalulu alive.' I am a Mrori, and I loved that boy for his bravery the first time I saw him, and I determined to save him, if possible for Kisesa and at the same time get the fifty cloths. A shield belonging to one of Mostana's men lay on the ground; I snatched it up, and defending my body with it, I cried out to Kalulu in Kirori that I was his friend and wished to save him. The boy, surprised for a moment, desisted, but seeing me advance hurriedly towards him, and fearing that I only wished to do him harm, he hurled another light spear at me. So true was the boy's aim, he hit the centre of the shield and pinned my hand to it, and at the same moment I saw his father fall across the threshold of his house. I heard the boy give one wild shriek, and then saw him disappear inside; but darting forward, heedless of the pain in my arm, I arrived at the door of the house, only in time, however, to see him escape by another door, that led outside of the royal quarters. I saw him take a hasty look, and, as if the coast was clear and no danger to be apprehended, shoot off like an arrow, and the head-dress of fish-eagle feathers he wore streamed behind him straight, so swift were his feet. I permitted him to spring to the palisade, but before he could well clear himself of its tall posts I laid hold of his feet; but not for long, however. As the fiery lad clung with one hand, he used the other in threatening to strike me, and the spears of the Warori are sometimes dangerous. When I released him, quicker than the black leopard of the jungles of Kawendi, or the ever-jumping monkey of Sowa, he sprang over the posts, and picking himself up, he raced away for liberty as if for life. But I am a Mrori too, and I am not to be outdone by a boy, even though he were sired by Mostana; so snatching the assegai, which hitherto had pinned my hand to the shield, I tossed the shield over to the other side, and sprang after it myself. It did not take long for me to catch the fugitive; he had just entered the belt of wood when I caught hold of his arm and bade him, in the Kirori tongue, not to run away from a friend. He turned round to me with such a look in his large eyes--eyes that truly were like unto those of the young Kalulu, his namesake, which, as it bounds over the low brush or grass clumps in the plains of Urori and Ubena, seems never to touch the ground as it leaps lightly and swiftly away from the cruel hunter. Perhaps it is because I am a Mrori that I was rather partial to the son of Mostana, captive of my bow and of my spear, but when I saw those large, soft, pleading eyes turned up to me, I wept for him who was a king's son yesterday, and to-day was Moto's slave. "`You are a Mrori,' said the boy, `and will you make Mostana's son a slave to those robbers?' "`My lord, the Arabs are not robbers; they are rich merchants trading for ivory, who, when angered by wrong done to them, band together to fight. Mostana is dead; the Arab chief, Kisesa, wants you for himself. Will you submit?' "`You are not a Mrori; no Mrori warrior would talk of submitting to be the slave of an Arab dog, however great or rich he is. Mostana has warned me often how it would all end. But Kalulu, his son, will never be a slave. Listen, my brother. [All strangers are addressed in "Urori" as brothers. All travellers are hailed as brothers.] I was born in that village; I first drew breath within that palisaded enclosure; there I first learned to lisp "baba," "mama;" there I first learned to distinguish friend from foe, light from darkness, good from evil; there I first learned how to handle the spear and the bow, how to throw the war-hatchet and the knob-stick; under those trees I have sucked at my mother's paps, and when older have listened to the elders of the village and counsellors of my father relating the traditions of my great warrior tribe; in those fields now green with corn I have played with friends of my own age--with Luhambo, Lotaka, Borata Natona, Kahirigi, and others; in the pleasant stream which is now before us I have bathed and caught the great fat fish; in this forest I have chased the honey-bird, and searched for the sweet treasures the wild bees stored for me; here the antelope and fleet zebra invited me to the chase; even the very trees seem to know me, and recognise me as belonging to this portion of earth. But now Mostana, my father, is dead, my village will be burnt, my kinsmen are either dead or bound captives, the fields will be left desolate, and what I have hitherto known as home will become a wilderness. Yet for all this, when Cruelty would even pause before going farther, I am pleading to a Mrori for the only thing left for me to ask--my liberty! Mrori, speak; must I ask twice for that which was never yours to give? Will you not let me depart to my uncle, to remember the friendly Mrori who scorned to take advantage of a boy?' "`Go in peace, my lord, go in peace: I did but try you. Moto is your friend, and if you can remember Moto when you live happily amongst your uncle's tribe, Moto will ever be grateful.' "`Is Moto your name?' he said delightedly, taking my hand, while his eyes danced with joy. `Then let the Warori of my uncle's tribe ever remember your name with pleasure. Katalambula, my uncle, shall remember your name for future benefit, should we ever meet again. Kalulu has spoken.' "He embraced me as if I were his father, and then snatching his weapons and the shield which I gave him, he turned away and, light as the jumping antelope [the springbok], bounded away from sight. "Come, my friends, the night is far spent, let us retire," said Moto, when he had ended his really interesting story. "What, Moto! I am surprised that you let the fellow go, when you might have got fifty cloths for him," said Selim. "And I am not," said Simba, "for I know Moto, and it is for that I love him as my brother. Why, he was a king's son! Should Moto take that from Kalulu which was not his to take? Ah, Moto! thou art good as the yellow metal which all the rich Arabs at Zanzibar love so much, and which the Banyan women love to hang on their yellow breasts. Master Selim, you know not what it is to be a slave; pray Allah that you never will know," said Simba as he rose and yawned. "I a slave! you are dreaming, Simba. An Arab cannot be a slave, but a black man was born to be an Arab's slave," replied Selim, with some tartness in his tones. "Well, well, we will talk of this another time," said Moto quietly, "eh, Simba, my brother? Master, the journey is far to-morrow; before the sun rises, your father has said, we must be on the road to Simbamwenni. It is now late. Good night, young master." "I shall go to my father's tent to dream of Mostana's son, Kalulu," said Selim, recovering his temper, saying which, he walked away. CHAPTER THREE. THE UNITED ARAB HOST--THE COUNCIL--THE LESSER COUNCIL--WHAT AN ARAB BOY THINKS OF BEING A SLAVE--WHAT SELIM THINKS OF SLAVERY--SAREASTIO ISA-- LITTLE NIANI IS ILL-TREATED--SELIM, AND HIS FATHER--BEAUTIFUL SCENERY-- THE LAND FLOWING WITH MILK AND HONEY--IS IT RIGHT OR WRONG TO OWN SLAVES?--THE FEARFUL CROCODILE--NARROW ESCAPE FROM DEATH--THE REWARD OF SELIM'S COURAGE--SIMBA ON THE ALERT--THE REWARD OF SIMBA'S FIDELITY--THE DEAD MARAUDER--THE FIERCE WARORI--THE ARAB COUNCIL--IS IT WAR, OR PEACE?--IS IT WAR? The next morning the caravan of Amer bin Osman was afoot at an early hour, all hands feeling in a more excellent mood, if possible, than they were when they retired to sleep. They shouted, they sang merrily, and enjoyed themselves in much the same manner that all caravans do, when fresh and cheery they start on a trading campaign. On the tenth day, on coming from under the shadows of the great scarps of the Uruguru range, the walled town of Simbamwenni lay before them, and on a green grassy slope, trending to the River Ungerengeri, were the white tents and the huts of the caravans they were to join. As is customary in Africa, the new-comers made their presence known to their friends by repeated discharges of musketry, which brought out the Arabs and their people by the hundreds. The greeting which Amer bin Osman received from his friends was warm and cordial. The chiefs all embraced him after the manner and custom in vogue amongst the Arabs, while their followers were not a whit less expressive to Amer's people. Selim was received with extraordinary cordiality by the younger Arabs, some of whom were of his own age, and after interchanging the long list of greetings customary in Arab countries, they all adjourned to Khamis bin Abdullah's tent, who had by acclamation been elected chief of the expedition, where in a short time dishes of curried chicken and rice, kabobs, and sweets of various kinds, with nice biscuits, were served as a substantial repast for the hungry travellers. Though conversation was animated and varied enough before Amer and his son Selim had satisfied their hunger, it did not touch upon the object of the expedition, but simply as to what events had transpired during the journey from the coast to Simbamwenni; but when the repast was ended, and the dishes were cleared, Khamis bin Abdullah broached the subject near and dear to each heart just then--the future journey or route of the expedition, "The great question, Amer bin Osman, about which we have been attempting to decide," said Khamis, "is, shall we take the road to Mbumi, in Usagara, and skirt the Mukondokwa mountains to reach Uhehe, and strike a straight line to Urundi, thence to Marungu, south of the Tanganika, for Rua, or shall we follow the old road through Marenga M'Kali and Ugogo to Unyanyembe, thence to Ujiji, and across the Lake Tanganika to Rua? I should like to have thy opinion, for thou art a man of age and experience, though thou hast never been to this land before." "Allah knows," responded Amer bin Osman, "that I know very little of this country. If thou dost not wish to decide thyself, as chief, which is the best road, I should like to hear from thee, or others, about the differences between the two roads, and the kind of countries which they traverse." "Well," said Khamis bin Abdullah, deliberately, "if I were by myself I should prefer the old road, but there are some here of my friends who know the country as well as I do, who think we are strong enough to be able to march along the southern road. "If we," continued he, "take the old road we shall have the Wagogo to pay tribute to, or fight, as we like, between here and Rua; but if we take the southern road, those thieves, the Wahehe, will have to be looked after closely when going through their country; then we have the Warori, a more powerful people than the Wagogo, to meet, whom we must make friends or fight; then beyond Urori we have the Watuta, a tribe related to the Warori, who speak their language and are more than the Warori, whom we shall be obliged to pacify or make war against, just as we feel, and beyond the Watuta is a straight road to the ivory country of Rua. I will admit that the southern road is by three or four months the shortest, but I cannot admit that it is the safest." "And what do my friends think of the two roads? What does Sultan bin Ali say?" asked Amer. "I say," replied old Sultan, "that it would be far more prudent in us to take the northern road. The Wagogo are far more mischievous and insolent than any I know, but we need not fear them if we are wise, and do not provoke war." "Well, if Sultan bin Ali and Khamis bin Abdullah think that the northern road is the best, I would prefer to be guided by their judgment; but what do the majority of the chiefs think of it?" asked Amer, directing his glance to the others who had not yet spoken of this matter to him. Said Khamis: "There are ten chiefs of us, including thyself; seven of us are for the southern road, and thou, and I, and Sultan bin Ali are for taking the northern road." "Yes," said Sheikh Mohammed, "for this reason. We are over 600 strong, all armed with guns. It is true we shall have to pay tribute to the Warori and the Watuta, and may experience some trouble from the Wahehe, who are dogs and sons of dogs; but the tribute, if we pay any, will not be much, and will be cheaper in the end than the three months we would lose on the southern road; besides, we save the cloth we would have to pay the Wagogo, who are insolent besides being extortionate. Three months on the road cost us altogether about 900 doti, or fifteen bales of cloth. Put the Warori tribute against the Wagogo, and we have fifteen bales of cloth, out of which we can pay the tribute to the Watuta. It is evident we effect a saving, besides gaining three months time." "That is a very good way of putting it," said Amer, "but what dost thou say, Khamis, about the comparative safety of the two roads? Is there more danger to be apprehended from the Warori and the Watuta than we, a trading caravan, would care to meet?" "That is the view we should take of the matter, and not of the little cloth we should save," responded Khamis. "Experience tells me to avoid the Warori, if possible, but above all the Watuta. The Warori are brave and strong, and sometimes very dangerous; but I have always heard the Watuta were dangerous, that they are a fierce tribe who live by robbing caravans, and I should not like to undertake to decide for the southern road without the concurrence of every chief here present." "Well, thou hast my consent if thou dost require it, and if God pleases he can guide us in safety through any tribe in Africa. Far be it from me to disagree with those who know better than I what roads to take, and what will best serve our interests," said Amer. "And if thou dost require mine for thy decision," said old Sultan bin Ali, "I shall not deny the right of any of the other chiefs to have as much a voice in the caravan as I have; so now, friend Khamis, thou hast the liberty to agree or disagree, and hast a right to decide whether thou wilt lead us through Urori or through Ugogo to the ivory country." "I have only one voice in the matter, and if ye are all of one consent that it is better for us to march by the southern road, and still of one mind that I shall lead ye, I have nothing more to say," responded Khamis. "We are, we are," they all replied. "Very well, the march begins to-morrow," said Khamis bin Abdullah, "at one hour before sunrise. We follow the old road as far as Mbumi, when we shall turn south." The news was soon communicated through the host of followers, and each knot and group had their own opinions, which they discussed with, as much acumen and wisdom as their superiors had evinced. But not to lose eight of our friends Simba and Moto, let us listen to what they have to say concerning the unusual line of route about to be adopted. It is night. The camp-fires are blazing by the score; huts are ranged around the immense circle, which is more than 500 feet in diameter, and scores of huts dot the centre of the circle, with their doors opening according as the taste, fancy, or caprice of the builders suggested. The huts of the Arab chiefs are arranged in a line close to one another, but still far enough to insure the privacy and exclusion which every Arab so much loves for the female portion of his household. Near the tent of Amer bin Osman are seated before the usual fire-pile the faithful slaves Simba and Moto with the fundis of the other Arabs; and on carpets of Oman manufacture are placed Selim, the son of Amer, Khamis, the young son of Khamis bin Abdullah, the leader, Isa, the son of Sheikh Thani, and Abdullah and Mussoud, brothers, aged fourteen and twelve respectively, the sons of Sheikh Mohammed. We hear Selim's voice first, as we pay him this attention for personating the hero of this veracious romance. Said he: "Well, Simba;--ah, Isa, you do not know what a treasure Simba is; he is so great, so wise, so strong!--what do you think of the southern road? do you think we shall see more fun?" "My young master, I fear so," answered Simba, while at the same time he never lifted his head, so apparently intent was he in keeping his flint-lock musket clean--a favourite occupation with Simba. "You fear so!" said Isa, in a tone of surprise. "What, you fear that we shall see some fun! Fie, Simba! did you not hear your young master say you were brave and strong, and why should you fear we should have some fun?" he asked, in a sneering tone. Simba, turning his wise and large eyes upon Isa, said: "Ah, Master Isa, you are a boy, and cannot understand." "Hear the slave!" shouted Isa, laughing boisterously at Simba's solemnity. "Hear the man!" he repeated. "Isa, son of Mohammed, is a boy and cannot understand--and cannot understand what--will you tell me, brave Simba?" he asked. "You cannot understand, child, that what may be fun to some people will be sorrow to others; that we may meet with fun of a kind that neither you nor any of us will much like," said Simba, still rubbing away at the already excessively clean gun, and looking graver than before. "Why, what is the matter with you to-night?" asked Selim of Simba. "The truth is, master, I do not like the course the Arabs have taken. I think they have been too hasty in adopting the southern road. None knows it better than friend Moto, and if the great masters had asked of Moto something about the road, my mind would be more easy concerning you and the great master Amer." "What do you know of it, Moto?" asked Selim. "Speak, and tell us all you know." "What Simba says is truth," replied Moto. "The Warori are bad, bad, bad, and the Watuta are worse--very bad--and I think we shall have very serious times of it." "How serious?" asked Selim again. "I mean that we are very likely to have war with them. Ever since Abdullah bin Nasib or Kisesa had that battle with Mostana, the Warori have been wicked. They have Arab slaves now. They formerly used to kill their prisoners or torture them, but now they treat them in the same way that the Arabs treat the Warori chiefs--they make slaves of them." "Make slaves of Arabs!" shouted young Khamis, a sinewy youth of sixteen, and brave as the bravest of men. "You lie, cur dog; you lie, slave!" he added furiously. "Ah, Master Khamis," said Moto, deprecatingly, "if they are slaves, it was not I who made them slaves; but I speak the truth." "A Bedaween!--a free Bedaween, who owns no master--a slave! Moto, you are a liar; it is impossible. A Bedaween cannot live in slavery." "But there are slaves with the Warori, and some are Arabs. I swear it," he added solemnly. "Then for my part," said young Khamis, "I am glad that my father has taken this road. The torments of Eblis light on the unbelieving dogs! An Arab a slave! Then let every Mrori look to himself should he fall into my power, for, by Mohammed's holy name, I will torture the reptile to death." "Hold, young master," said the deep-voiced Simba, halting a moment in his work, and raising himself to his fullest height, which, as the firelight danced on his gigantic form, seemed to add vastness to that which was vast already. "Listen to me, Khamis, young son of Khamis bin Abdullah; the Warori are bad, as you heard Moto say, but the Warori are men, and I have heard a good Nazarene, one of the white men at Zanzibar, say that all men are equal. If the Warori are men, and are lords of their own soil, and if Arabs trouble them, or will not do them justice, what great wrong are the Warori guilty of if they fight; and if they catch Arabs prisoners in war, why should they not treat them as the Arabs would treat the Warori? Answer me that." "Why, Simba," asked the eldest of the sons of Mussoud, "do you know what the sacred Kuran says? I remember what the good Imam has told me often: `_Verily the fruit of the trees of Al Zakkum shall be the food of the unbelievers, as the dregs of oil shall it boil in the bellies of the damned, like the boiling of the hottest water. When ye encounter the unbelievers strike off their heads until ye have made a great slaughter among them, and bind them in bonds, and either give them a free dismission afterwards or exact a ransom, until the war shall have laid down its arms_.' And in another place the Kuran says, according to the holy and learned Imam, `_And as to those who fight in defence of God's true religion, God will not suffer their works to perish; he will guide them, and will dispose their heart aright; and he will lead them into paradise, of which he hath told them_.'" "There, Simba," said Isa, triumphantly, "what do you think now of slaves and true believers? Do you not think it right for us to take and capture those who waylay us, and make them slaves for their perfidy and savagery?" "I think the same as before," answered Simba. "I do not know the Kuran so well as Abdullah, it is true, but I know that the same God who gave you sense and feeling gave the savages of Urori some sense and feeling as well; but I should like to know what my young master Selim's thoughts are upon these subjects." "To tell you the simple truth would be to tell you that I never thought much of these things," answered Selim, in a mild tone. "My father has slaves, and my relations own a great number. They are all well looked after, and I have never heard that they were much astonished at their condition. I have seen slaves punished and killed; but they had done wrong, and they deserved their punishment. Neither my father nor my relations ever gave me to suppose that by keeping slaves they were committing wrong, and you surely cannot expect me, who am but a boy and the son of my father, to say anything against my elders. Whatever Amer bin Osman does is right; at least, so I have heard men say, and shall I, his son, judge him?" "Bravely spoken," said the impetuous Khamis, "Bravely said, my brother Selim; but, instead of speaking to Simba as thou hast done, thou shouldst have taken thy kurbash (whip) to him, and taught the dog to watch the doorstep of his master, and not be teaching the son of Amer." "You are over hasty, Khamis," replied Selim, in a deprecating tone. "Simba is good and true to me and to my father's household. My father loves him, and I love him, black though he be, as if he were my brother. Simba and Moto are worth their weight in the yellow metal which our women love to adorn their necks with; yet, did it depend on my voice, a thousand times their weight of gold would not purchase them." Both Simba and Moto were so affected at this that they both fell on their knees, and crawled up to their young master to embrace his feet, thus testifying the great love they bore him; but Selim would not permit this, and said: "Nay, my good Simba, and you, Moto, rise. I think you men, not slaves, and you need not kiss my feet to show me how much you love me. You are my friends, and I shall ever esteem you as such." "My good young master," said Simba, in a voice broken with emotion, "we are your servants, and we are proud of it. Are we not, Moto?" "Indeed, we are," said Moto. "What Arab tribe can boast a lad of your years with so much beauty and heart? Your eyes, young master, are blacker than the richest, ripest singwe (a species of wild plume) of Urundi, and as large as those of the sportive kalulu (young antelope); and when they are covered with your eyelids, we have often compared them while you were asleep, and Moto and I watched you, to the lotus which hides its beauty at eve from the fell touch of night. And your flesh, though not white like the bloodless pale children of the white races, is like the warmer colour of ivory, and beautiful and clear as the polished ivory ornaments of my people in Urundi: your limbs, clean and shapely, are firm and hard as ivory tusks. You are like a young palm-tree in beauty and strength. He is a happy man who calls you son, and your mother laughs for joy in her sleep when she dreams of you. Your slaves are proud to call you master." "Amen, and amen," responded Moto, while tears descended his cheeks. "Simba has spoken nothing but the truth; he never utters lies. Master Selim knows what Simba and Moto say they mean. Evil cannot approach him while we are near, nor can danger lurk unseen. Rocks shall not wound his feet, neither shall thorns prick his tender skin. If the journey is long Simba is as strong as a camel, and Moto is fleet of foot as the zebra, and enduring as the wild ass of Unyamwezi. Moto has spoken." "Eh, Khamis, and thou, lea, hear and understand," said Selim, smiling. "Where is the Arab who does not love the Nedjid mare, which partakes of his food, as the wife of his bosom? But in Simba and Moto I have two faithful friends. I have a camel, a zebra, and an ass, and you tell me to beat them, Khamis. Fie, boy!" "Boy, indeed! I am older than thou, and taller and stronger. Thou art a child, or thou wouldst not believe the fulsome words of these lying knaves. I have seen the world more than thou hast, and I assure thee on my head I never saw the black man yet who could keep his hands from stealing and his evil tongue from lying. I--Khamis, the son of Khamis, the son of Abdullah--know whereof I am speaking." "What a dear little child he is, to be sure!" laughed Isa. "Is it Selim, the son of Amer, whose eyes are like the singwe of Urundi, and whose limbs are like ivory? Eh, Khamis, my brother? Is Selim, the son of Amer, turned a girl, that his ears court such music? And if thou art of the complexion of ivory, what are we, I wonder--I, Isa, son of Mohammed, and Khamis, son of Khamis?" While Selim was blushing crimson from shame at the mocking words of Isa, little Abdullah spoke up, and said, much to everybody's amusement except Isa's: "Why, Isa, dost thou mean to say that Selim is not good-looking? I have often heard my father, Sheikh Mohammed, say he wished I was as good-looking as Selim the son of Amer, though he thought I was every bit as good. And, lea--now--don't be angry. I--I don't think thee good-looking at all. Thou art almost as black as Simba, and--" "Liar!" thundered Isa, directing a blow at Abdullah, which was happily warded by Khamis, who, though ever-ready to lift the whip against stupid slaves, was averse to see an Arab beaten. Isa, however, darting behind Khamis aimed another blow at Abdullah; but Abdullah, probably seeing that he was very angry, and would strike a serious blow, took to his heels running round the fire, chased by the infuriate Isa. As Isa passed near one side of the fire, Niani, the little negro boy called Monkey, who had hitherto been very quiet, seeing a chance to assist Abdullah, who had praised Selim, thrust his foot forward; and Isa, too much occupied in watching the manoeuvres of Abdullah, struck his shins against the obstacle, and came heavily to the ground. A shout of laughter greeted his fall; but the amusement of Selim was soon changed to real concern as he saw that Isa had quickly recovered himself, and had sprung upon Niani, and catching hold of him by the throat and legs, was carrying him to the great log-fire, to warm him, as he said. Niani struggled and screamed, but in vain. Isa's ears were closed against a little slave's cries, and he would probably have made good his threat had not Selim, Khamis, and Mussoud, aided by Simba and Moto, interfered, and cried out, "Enough, enough, son of Mohammed. Be not wrathful with a little slave." As Arabs dislike to see scuffling, or at least always interfere in cases of this kind, it is not to be wondered at Khamis taking the part of Niani, or Simba and Moto exerting their manhood to prevent cruelty; but Niani was not released scot-free; he received several energetic slaps and kicks, which accelerated his departure to a safer distance. This incident broke up the meeting. Simba and Moto withdrew to their mats on each side of their master Amer's tent. Khamis, Isa, and Mussoud retired to their respective parents' tents, and Selim entered the tent of Amer bin Osman. Sheikh Amer was seated on his mat in the tent, writing by the light of a single tallow candle on a large broad sheet of stiff white paper; but as Selim entered he put his papers by, and bending on his son an earnest and melancholy look, said: "My son, light of my soul and joy of my heart, come to me, and do thou sit by me that I may feel thy cheery presence. Dost thou know that my soul feels heavy to-night, as if some great affliction was about to visit me?" "And what, my father," replied the boy, bending a loving look on him, "couldst thou fear? Art thou not surrounded by kind friends and servants who love thee as their father?" "Nay, my son, it is not fear that I feel, but a vague foreshadowing of evil which none can feel save those who have much to lose. On whose head the evil will fall I know not, nor do I know from what direction the evil may come; but that evil is nigh in some indistinct shape or another my soul knows, and it is that which has cast this passing cloud over it. But let us speak of other subjects. I have been occupied in writing letters to Zanzibar to my friends, telling them of the new route these wayward companions of ours have adopted, and giving directions about the disposition of my property. Thou knowest, Selim, my child, how I have always loved thee and treated thee, for thou art my hope and joy, and I may not hide it from thee. Should accident happen to me it will be well for me to warn thee now that thou hast an uncle from whom may Allah guard thee. He is a deep, designing man, though he is my brother. Should I die, thy uncle will endeavour to do thee harm, and it is against him I wish to guard thee." "But, father Amer, what harm can my uncle do me, and why should he wrong me, who have never done him wrong in word, or thought, or deed?" asked Selim, surprised at the tone of his father's voice and this revelation. "Thou art but a child of tender years and but little aware of the amount of wickedness in this world. Thy uncle is an avaricious man, who would rob thee of thy birthright could he do it, and I believe him to be bad enough to injure thee in some covert way if it were possible. My property amounts to about fifty thousand dollars in slaves and land, and if I die, this property, by right of thy birth as eldest son, is thine wholly, and under no condition or restraint. Wert thou and thy mother to die it would become the property of my brother Bashid, who is a cunning and unscrupulous man." "Thou dost surprise me, my father; but thou art well, and in good hopes of a long life. I hope thou wilt live a thousand years; I am happy only in being thy son," answered Selim. "I know it, my son; and if ever a dutiful child made the years of his father seem light, I have that child in thee, but it is well to be provident for those whom we love. For the rest, the will of God be done. There is another subject I wished to converse with thee upon, and that is thy marriage. Dost thou know Leilah?" "What! Leilah, the daughter of Khamis bin Abdullah?" asked Selim. "The same," answered Amer. "Surely, I know her. Have we not played together when we were children, and, now I bethink me, she is the loveliest girl at Zanzibar." "It is well," said Amer. "Leilah, the daughter of Khamis bin Abdullah is wedded to thee, and the settlements are made between friend Khamis and myself. Should evil happen to me--which God forefend--on thy return to Zanzibar, if thou art of age, seek thou Khamis or, in Khamis's absence, his kinsmen, and claim thou thy wife according unto the custom of thy tribe. I have prepared this future for thee that thou mayst not, like the degenerate Arabs at Zanzibar, seek a wife among strangers to thy race and tribe, and bring disgrace upon the name of my father Osman. Thy kinsmen are proud and belong to the pure Arab race, and they would not think well of my memory if I had neglected to warn thee of thy duty to me and the tribe of which Osman was so loved. Bear thou my words in thy mind, write them upon the tablets of thy heart, and obey. Dost thou promise?" "As God liveth, and as thy soul liveth," responded Selim earnestly, "to hear is to obey. I shall cherish as a holy thing thy wish." "Then do thou retire and rest. These papers are to be committed to the care of two of my servants, who will return to Zanzibar to-morrow, when they will, upon arrival, present them to the Imam. God shield thee from evil, and may He avert it always from all of us," said Amer, as he resumed his work. "Amen and amen!" replied Selim; and, after embracing his father, he quietly retired to his carpet to sleep the sleep of the innocent and young. At early dawn next morning the horns of the several kirangozis, or guides, of the respective caravans blew loud and cheerily, calling on all to prepare for the march. Before an hour had elapsed, the tents had been struck and folded, and each carrier, bearing his burden of cloth or beads (which were to be used for barter for ivory with the tribes in the far interior, or were, in the meanwhile, to purchase food as the caravan journeyed) or bearing the beds, and carpets, and rugs, cooking utensils, and despatch-boxes, was following his leaders as he stepped out briskly for the march. The Arab chiefs remained behind to bring up the rear, and then, giving their rifles in charge to their gun-bearers or favourite slaves, followed on the road their caravans had taken. The country before them broke out into knolls and tall cone-like hills, whose slopes were covered with here and there patches of dense jungle, or nourished young forests whose umbrage formed a most grateful shade during the heat of day. Soon they had passed the healthy, breezy hills which are but offshoots of the Uruguru range, and the land now eloped before them into the low, flat basin of the Wami river, which during the rainy season becomes one great swamp. But the season, at the time our travellers passed over the Makata Plain--as the basin is called--was soon after the effects of the violent monsoon had disappeared, in July, when the land presents an unusually bleached appearance; the grass is crispy, ripe, and extremely dry, the ground is seamed with ugly rents and gape, and the rivers, Little Makata and Mbengerenga, are but little better than small rivulets. The caravans were therefore enabled to cross the breadth of the Makata Plain within two days, and arrived at Mbumi in Usagara on the evening of the second day. From Mbumi, in the same order as before, avoiding the Mukondokwa Yalley, the steep passes of Bubeho, and the desolate, forlorn-looking plains of Ugogo, the lengthy file of men--carriers, soldiers, and slaves--skirted the eastern end of the Mukondokwa range, and on the third day from Simbamwenni, arrived in a country which differed materially in aspect from that which they had just left. Mountains of a loftier altitude, in peak upon peak, in tier upon tier, range upon range, met the eye everywhere. Green trees covered their slopes in an apparently endless expanse of vegetation. The sycamore, the tamarind, the beautiful mimosa and kolqual vied with each other in height and beauty, while a thousand other trees, shrubs, plants, and flowers aided to give verdancy and freshness to the scene. Down the hard, steep, rocky beds of granite and sandstone, with here and there basalt and porphyry, flint, and quartz, foamed the sparkling streams, which, when encountered on an African journey, give zest to the travel and add something to the pleasures of memory. A deep gaping fissure in a high jutting wall of rock, through which bubbled the clear water in volumes, or a great towering rock, with perpendicular walls, to which clung, despite the apparent impossibility, ferns, and plants, and moss, thick and velvety, or a conical hill, which ambitiously hid its head in clouds, were scenes to be treasured up when the march should hereafter become monotonous through excessive sameness of feature. When they were in camp and had rested, our young friends went into raptures over the bold beauty of mountain scenery, and Belim, and Abdullah, and Mussoud were constantly heard uttering their exclamations of admiration. Selim especially, imbued as he was with the religious faith of his father, was filled with a loftier feeling than that youthful glow and exhilaration which his companions felt. Had he the power, he would like to have poured out his soul in fervid verse about the grandeur, the indescribable beauty of Nature in her wildest and most prolific mood. But being as yet a boy, in whom the poetic instinct and feeling is strong, he said to his father, one day, as the scenery was unusually picturesque: "Hast thou ever, my father, during these days of travel over these great mountain-tops, thought that Palestine, the promised land, must be something like this? The land flowing with milk and honey. Why, honey is already plentiful here--we need but the cows to furnish milk; but if milk means the richness of earth, the never-dying fertility of the soil, look but once on this view now before us, and tell me, think you Palestine can be richer than this? Why, I feel--I do not exactly know what--but it is something that if I have never been good or thankful to Allah for his goodness to men, that I could be good for ever in future. Do you understand this feeling, father Amer, or is it singular in me?" "No, it is not singular, my dear son; but go on, tell me what is in thy mind," replied Sheikh Amer, himself gazing on the revealed might of Nature. "I have also a feeling--as if I knew it for the first time--that this earth is large, very large, that it is immense, without limit or boundary, and that, consequently, God, who made all this, must be truly great. With the mountain air which I now inhale I seem to have imbibed something purer, more subtle; yet that thing is capable of giving me more expansion. Why was it that, before coming to these mountains, I never thought upon this subject? Why was it that, before to-day, I had no one thought of what might happen to-morrow, beyond what might happen to our caravan, or beyond what I should see on the road? Yet at this moment, though my eyes seem to rest upon this view of loveliness, I know I do not look upon its details or any particular object, but they seem to drink it all with one look, and more, infinitely more, than is contained in the area before me. I seem to have eyes in my mind which have a keener sight, more extended vision, greater power than the eyes of my head, which can see so far, and no farther. Yet to the sight of the inner eyes, which see not, yet can see a thousand times vaster scene, a thousand times greater prospect is revealed. Hills, dales, mountains, plains, valleys, forests, rivers, lakes, seas, all lovely, and lovelier than what we see now, are comprehended within the scope of my hidden and unseen eyes. What is this new sight or feeling, my father? Canst thou tell me?" "Ah, my child, it is simply the awakening of the hitherto latent mind; or thought, exercised by but a faint experience, has been touched by Nature, and begins to dawn," replied Amer. "God had endowed thee with the power of thought and of mind when he gave thee life. It was impossible that it could remain for ever hidden. The hour that a child begins to exercise his mind seeth him advanced a step nearer to manhood. It will kindle and expand as thou growest in years, and in each day's march thou wilt find fresh food for it. It remains with God and thine own nature to improve it with every breath of air thy lungs inhale. By diligently reading the Kuran and studying the precepts of Mohammed-- blessed be his name!--thou wilt so protect that thought pure from evil as the tiny germ God implanted in thy breast at thy birth." "But tell me, father, one thing--it is different from that which thou hast been just telling me," asked Selim. "Thou knowest Simba and Moto are thy slaves. Is it right, or is it not, to own slaves?" "It is right, certainly, my son. The Kuran sanctions it, and it has been a custom from of old with our race to own slaves. What has prompted thee to such a question? Is it another sign of the growth of thy mind?" his father asked, with a smile. "I know not," replied Selim, bending his head like one who hesitated to speak his mind or was unable to comprehend the drift of his own thought. "But thou knowest Simba and Moto are good; they love thyself and me exceedingly, and as I know better than others that thou art just, and lovest justice for its own sake, wouldst thou think it right to retain thy slaves in bondage if they thought it injustice to them?" "Ha! where is it possible thou couldst have gained such ideas, child? But, never mind, since thy thoughts run so wild, I will answer thee," replied Amer. "No, it is not right in me, or any living man, to retain a slave in his possession, if the slave thinks it injustice, or if his slavery galls him; neither is it fair that, after I have purchased him with my money, I should give him his liberty for the mere asking; but strict justice would demand that I set a price of money on his head, or a term of labour equivalent to the money I paid for him; and, on the payment of such money, or on the conclusion of such labour, that he be for ever freed from bondage. So says the Kuran, and such is our law, and such has been my practice, and I would advise thee to do likewise when the time shall come." "I thank thee, my father; it is all clear to me now. But stop! harken to that sound! What may that be? Can it be the hyaena?" "Yes, the hyaenas are out early this evening. They are hungry; but, Selim, my son, haste to tell Simba and Moto to set the tent on that flat piece of ground near that great tree, and bid them to be sure to turn the door of the tent to-day towards the east." "Yes, my father;" and Selim, the fleet-footed youth, agile as a young leopard, leaped over several bushes, as he ran to do his parent's bidding. The camp was situated on a limited terrace or shelf of ground rising above a body of water which more resembled a long narrow lake than a river. Yet it was the river Lofu, or Rufu, as some call it, which in the dry season, like many an African river, loses its current, and becomes a series of long narrow pools, which in some places may be compared to lakes for their length, according to the nature of the ground wherein these depressions are found. If the ground is rocky, or of clayey mud, the water is retained, instead of being absorbed, in which swarm multitudes of the _silurus_, or bearded mud-fish. Wherever mud-fish are abundant, crocodiles, the great fish-eating reptiles of the African water, are sure to be found; and wherever crocodiles are found one is almost sure to find the hippopotamus, the behemoth of Scripture; not because crocodiles and hippopotami have any affinity with each other, but because the soil, which retains the water during the hot days of the droughty season, is almost sure to produce in the vicinity of the pools abundance of rich grass and tall cane, the food of the hippopotamus. About two hours before sunset, soon after camping, Selim, accompanied by Simba and two other men, named Baruti and Mombo, sallied out of the camp with his faithful rifle on his shoulder to hunt for game. The party travelled towards the upper end of the narrow lake the caravan had camped by. Matete cane, spear, and tiger grass, in profusion, grew near this end, and beyond lay a thin jungle, the borders of which touched the water line. It was to this jungle they directed their steps, for Simba had judged that it was a promising place for such sport as Selim desired. When the party arrived in the jungle they found the place so delightfully cool, that they could not resist the inclination to rest awhile and cool themselves after the labour and toil of going through the long grass. Simba and Selim sought the deeper shade of a mammoth and far-spreading tamarind tree, while Baruti sought a place about thirty yards from the tamarind, and Mombo, fatigued with the long journey over the mountains that day, reclined under a young mimosa near the water's edge. The coolness of the retreat, the silence which prevailed, and the weariness which had come over their tired frames soon induced sleep. They had not been in this condition long, before the reader, had he or she been there surveying the scene, might have heard the faintest sound of a ripple on the water, and have seen a crocodile's head stealthily rise above the surface, the eyes, cold and fixed, gazing over the slightly protuberant nose, to the spot where Mombo lay. A few minutes the crocodile thus lay still as a heavy sappy log, more than three-fourths buried in the water, but almost imperceptibly the heavy body became buoyant, until the lengthy form, with great ridgy scales marking the line of its spine, lay half uncovered. Without a movement of the long powerful tail, and with but the faintest motion of his heavy, broad, short legs, he propelled himself towards the shore. A minute he rested there, still as death. One could not have sworn that it was an animal, though one might have been sure, provided no one suggested a cause for doubt. He then lifted his long head, but with the same cautious movement which always characterises this stealthy, cowardly creature of the African deeps, then his enormously long body, until he resembled a huge log, propped up by four short pins--the legs appeared so out of proportion. Anybody at first glance would have seen that in the great, unwieldy form lay tremendous power. The trunk of the largest elephant that was ever born would not equal in size that long tail, which seemed, on account of its length and weight, slightly bent towards the ground at the tip. Having again halted, he moved forward silently, with a slightly waddling motion; and as he approached the sleeping form of Mombo, his movements were as slow and cautious as those of a leopard before springing upon its prey; but the monster made one hurried, convulsive movement forward, the lower jaw was run under the sleeping man's leg, and the upper jaw came down with a sound like a well-oiled and sound steel spring, and the crocodile swung the limp, warm body around, as a man would swing a cat by the tail. But this swinging movement proved to be poor Mombo's salvation, for he was thus swung against a strong young tree, to which he now clung with the strong tenacity of a man who clings for life, while he gave vent to the full power of his lungs in cries so alarming and shrill that they were heard at the camp of the caravans two miles off. Selim, Simba, and Baruti realised the scene in an instant; they saw the great reptile, horrible and hideous as a nightmare, tugging violently at the leg of the unfortunate man, whose screams pierced their ears, and whose arms almost cracked as he held on with such a fierce grip to the strong young sapling, and they saw that had it not been for its fortunate proximity to him they had never seen Mombo more. Simba was the first to recover himself, for Selim and Baruti stood as men transfixed. "Now, master," said he, "your gun--quick! or he will run away. Aim at once; but be cool, or you will kill Mombo. Aim just at his throat, as you see his head lifted up. There, son of Amer, you have slain the brute! Ah! he is trying to escape. Hyah! on, Baruti; your spear, man! Run! come with me, and catch hold of his tall. Two of us can hold him, I think, or delay him at least until he dies. There--take that, you beast!" he shouted as he hurled his broad-bladed spear full through his side, behind the fore leg, into his vitals, which stretched the monster lifeless after one or two convulsive efforts. Baruti, encouraged by Simba's powerful voice, which roared through the wood in accents so cheery, had at first boldly dashed at the crocodile's tail; but receiving a tremendous thwack on his side from the mighty tail, which was swung about as though it were a well-handled flail-- which almost fractured every rib in his body--now stood by, looking fearfully punished and sore. When the monster had ceased to breathe, Selim and Simba, attracted by the moans of Mombo, hastened to him to examine his condition. "Poor fellow!" said Selim. "See Simba, the leg is stripped to the bone. What a savage reptile the crocodile is! Do you think Mombo will live, Simba? For after this I should not like to see him die; it would seem as if my big bullet had done no good after all." "He will live, Inshallah! Inshallah! (Please God! Please God!) Mombo will live to tell the story to his children on the island when he is an old man and past work. You know the hakim (doctor) with us is wise and learned, and, Inshallah! Mombo, after a few days, will be all right. Sho! Mombo die? No, master; Mombo will live to laugh at this. But we must carry him to the camp that the hakim may dress his wounds. Come, Baruti, man--cease your cries. Take your hatchet and cut young straight trees down while I prepare some rope whereon Mombo may be carried. You, young master, may cut a piece of the crocodile's tail to show your father Amer, who will be proud of what you have done." They all three set to work. Baruti cut two young trees, which he barked. Simba made use of the bark as rope, and in a short time a comfortable bed had been made, on which Mombo was carefully lifted, and, in a few moments, Selim having secured his trophy, the three friends set out briskly on their return to camp. Young Selim, who had "bagged" his first game, was highly gratified by the praise bestowed on him by his father and his father's people, and the braggart Isa was the only one of his boy-fellows who refused to say a kind word in commendation of the feat. Noble young Khamis, on the other hand, did not stint his appreciation of it, and youthful Abdullah and Mussoud hung about Selim as though he were some suddenly-discovered hero. The chieftain Khamis bin Abdullah, the noble leader of the united caravans, took from his waist a gold-hafted curved dagger as a token of his esteem, and Sheikh Mohammed presented him with a crimson silk sash to put around his waist. Sultan bin Ali, the patriarch of the expedition, who was the very type of a venerable Arab chief, gave him out of his treasure a red fez-cap with a golden tassel, and Sheikh Mussoud gave him a Muscat turban of a rich cherry pattern, so that Selim, before night, was arrayed in costly garments. The slaves among themselves did Selim honour by praising him around the camp-fires, and Halimah, the black woman-cook of Amer bin Osman, as she turned her ugali (porridge), declared, by this and by that, that Selim was the noblest, sweetest lad she had ever seen. Selim would have slept that night the sleep of those who do praiseworthy actions, had he not been awakened at midnight by a loud shriek from one of his father's slaves, whose right cheek was completely ripped off by a prowling hyaena. The disturbance in the dead hour of night alarmed some of the younger slaves, but they were calmed by the wise and experienced Moto, who said sententiously that "the hyaena is a cowardly brute, who would run away at the sight of a child in the daytime, and who could only fight sleeping or dead men." After these incidents, which occurred at the stagnant pools of the Lofu, the caravans continued, their march uninterruptedly until they arrived among the Wahehe, a tribe of predatory people who live south of the great arid plain country of Ugogo. The first night, before going to sleep after their arrival in Uhehe, the kirangozi of Khamis bin Abdullah rose up at the command of his master-- and spoke out in a loud voice to the united caravans: "Words, words, words! Listen, ye children of the Arabs, sons of the great chiefs, Khamis bin Abdullah, Amer bin Osman, Sultan bin Ali, the Sheikhs Mussoud, Abdullah, Bashid, Hamdan, Thani, and Nasib! Open your ears, ye people of Zanzibar! Ye are among the Wahehe. Ye are in the land of thieves, and night-prowlers. Be wary and alert, my friends; sleep with one eye open; let not your hands forget your guns. When ye meet the prowling Wahehe in your camps at night, shoot and kill all such. Do ye hear?" "We do," was answered by six hundred voices. "Do ye understand?" he again asked. "Yes," they all replied. "It is well; the kirangozi Kingaru, slave of Khamis bin Abdullah, has spoken." For two days they travelled through Uhehe without molestation, but on the evening of the third day Sheikh Amer commanded his tent-pitchers to set his tent close against the hedge of brush and thorn (which always surrounds a camp in Africa when it is procurable), for the convenience of his household, the members of which could thus by a slight gap pass in and out freely to the pool to get water or to procure wood for the fire, without being compelled to traverse the length of the camp. A couple of hours before dawn, when people sleep heaviest, and their slumbers are supposed to be soundest, Simba, who always slept lightly at night, because of the responsible cares which a just and faithful conscience ever imposed on him, was awakened by the crushing of a twig. He never stirred, but continued his regular breathing as before, and compelled his ears to do their duty to the utmost. After a little time his quickened hearing was rewarded by the sound of a human foot pressing softly, yet heavily, the ground near him. The gap, left imprudently open, which fronted the tent-door of Amer bin Osman, was that to which his cautious gaze was directed. By the light of the stars, which shine in Africa with unusual light, he saw the very faintest resemblance to a human figure, which held in one hand something darker than its own body, yet not so long, and in the other a long staff, at one end of which there was a cold glimmer of faint light, or reflection of light, which he supposed at once, and rightly, to be a spear. That human figure was that of an intruder. A friend had never stood so long in that gap, or advanced so stealthily. A wild beast would have advanced with as much circumspection and caution--why not a human enemy? The instincts of both man and beast are the same in the silence of night, when about to act hostilely. Simba still lay seemingly unconscious of duty--unconscious of the danger which menaced the occupants of his master's tent; but could that human enemy have seen through the gloomy mist of night those large, watchful eyes of the recumbent form stretched almost within reach of him, he had surely hesitated before advancing another step towards that open tent-door. All seemed still, and the figure bent down and moved in a crawling posture towards the open door, wherein lay Selim and his father, unconscious of the dangerous presence of an armed intruder. But Simba's eyes were not idle, though silent. What thing on earth does its work so quietly as the eye? They followed the crawling form unwinkingly, until it had half entered the open door; then Simba raised his head, finally his body, upright to its full gigantic height. The feet of the daring intruder were within tempting reach of those long muscular arms if he but stooped, and Simba knew it. He stood up one short second or so, as if he summoned threefold strength with the lungful of air he but halted to inhale; then quickly stooping, he caught hold of the robber's feet, and giving utterance to a loud triumphant cry, swung him two or three times around his head, and dashed his head against the great flat stone on which, a few hours before, the woman-cook, Halimah, had ground her master's corn, and then tossed him lifeless over the hedge of the camp as carrion!! In an instant, as it were, the camp was awake, and fires burned brightly everywhere. The cause of the disturbance was soon made known all over the camp, and curious men came rushing by the score to the scene of the tragedy, to gaze upon the victim of his own savage lust for plunder or murder. Amer bin Osman, when he heard the explanation of Simba, took a torch, and followed by Selim and others, went to gaze upon the dead man. One look satisfied him that the man was a Mhehe, who had armed himself with a long oval-shaped shield, broad-bladed spear, and battle-axe, for a desperate enterprise. When Amer raised his head, he seemed to be studying what the intention of the man might have been, and he retraced his steps backwards to the tent-door, and looked in, as if to consider what might have been done, or stolen, had he succeeded in his attempt. Then, looking at Selim's pale face, who had also arrived at the same opinion as his father, a grateful look stole over his features; he said to his son with a smile: "Well, boy, thou hast to thank Simba for thy safety, for thy head lay uncomfortably near that door; and hadst thou awakened, thy life had not been worth much. What hast thou to say to Simba, Selim?" The boy turned his large bright eyes upon Simba's face, which glowed with honest pride and affection, and then they measured the giant limbs, the tremendous arms, and the broad heaving chest, and to his father's question propounded another, which rather startled his father: "Simba is a great strong man, but whom dost thou value more, father--thy son Selim or thy slave Simba?" "Why, son of mine, what a question! Art thou not the child of my loins, and of my dear Amina? and have I ever failed in my love for thee?" "Never--no, never, dear father; but Simba has given thy son back again to thee, else had I been dead. Has Simba paid thee full valuation for the purchase-money thou didst pay for him when he was a child?" "Simba is good; but had I lost thee, I had surely lost all. Thou hast said it, my child. Simba is free, and is no longer a slave of Amer bin Osman." "Simba!" cried Selim, "good Simba, do you hear the words of my father? You are a man, and no longer a slave!" Simba at first did not seem to comprehend the full meaning of the words addressed to him, but as the words of the boy whose life he had saved were repeated to him, a proud smile lit his features, and as he tossed his head back, while his nostrils dilated, he said: "A slave! It is an ugly word; but Simba, of the Wahuma, of Urundi, was in his own mind never a slave, so the word troubled him. Simba might long ago have been free, had he wished it, but he loved his master, Amer, and Sheikh Amer's son; so he remained their servant, and while being their servant he never forgot that he was a man. Simba is grateful to Amer and his son Selim, and while he remembers that he is free, Simba will be happy only in remembering also that he is their servant;" saying which, he bent his knee and kissed the right hand of father and son. "Ah, Simba, my friend!" cried Selim, "I shall call thee friend in future, and thou shalt say `thou' to me, and I `thou' to thee, as my father and I say to each other; and if thou art grateful, Selim has also a heart, and can feel." "Then, boys," said Amer, breaking in upon this interchange of compliments, "to bed, and sleep your sleep out. Let a watch be kept, lest the Wahehe robbers come to avenge the dead dog of a thief, and upon the first appearance of anything suspicious, sound the alarm instantly." The night passed without further alarm or disturbance of any kind, and at the usual hour of the morning the signal horns aroused the camp for the fatigue of another day's march. As the caravans were about leaving their camp, a group of Wahehe strolled up carelessly, similarly armed to the one who had met his fate so suddenly at the hands of Simba. As they were advancing towards the central gate of the camp, their quick eyes caught sight of the dead body of their comrade, and hastening towards it, they regarded it with wonder depicted on their faces. On stooping down to examine the head, they found it elongated into a hideous, formless shape, and not being able to contain their surprise, they questioned as to why and how it all came about. Said Moto, who had keenly noted these signs, and had approached the group to answer their expected queries, "Ah, my brothers! some men are bad, very bad, and fools. What could have possessed this man to try and rob a caravan of 600 armed souls, I cannot say, unless it was the evil spirit. Do you see that big man with the great battle-axe in his belt, and a long ivory horn slung to his shoulder? That big man caught this thief in the tent of Amer bin Osman: he seized him by the feet, and whirling him around, he brought his head down flat on that stone." "Eyah! eyah!" said the astonished Wahehe. "He must be the evil spirit himself; but all thieves should die, and if, as you say, this man was caught at night in the camp, he has earned his death." "Say you so, my brothers?" said Moto; "then it is well. But listen to me; if the wind came to steal in our camp that big man would know it. He seems never to sleep, never to rest; he could smell a Mhehe at night afar off." "Eyah, eyah, ey-eyah!! He must be the evil spirit." Saying which they departed, muttering to themselves and looking very much crestfallen. The caravans journeyed on for several days after the incidents just related without meeting anything worthy of note in these pages. The western part of Uhehe is very uninteresting; one march follows another through the same _triste_ scenery. A long reach of country to the right and the left, covered with short ripe grass, dotted with a ragged clump of thorn-bush here and there, or a solitary baobab stem, unbending in its vast girth and thickness of twigs, alone met the wearied eyes of the travellers. The Wahehe, the southern Wagogo, mixed with a stray Wakimbu family or two, permitted such a large caravan to pass without molestation, so that the march was getting exceedingly monotonous. But when, after crossing an unusually arid plain of some extent, they saw before them a long line of white rocky bluffs, the people began to whisper among themselves that "beyond those bluffs lay the lands of the populous Warori, who are mostly shepherds, and will not, if in the mood to quarrel, regard our numbers or strength." It was the tenth week of the departure of the Arabs from Simbamwenni when the above-mentioned bluffs were crossed, and the pastoral country of the Warori extended far before them in a succession of wooded hollows, bare uplands, and jungle-covered plains. Those who knew Moto, the slave of Amer bin Osman, were startled at the remarkable physical resemblance he bore to the majority of the shepherds and villagers, who grouped themselves along the road to wonder at the wealth of the Arab caravans, and to make their rustic comments upon what they did not understand. The Warori, however, did not seem disposed to dispute their advance, but stood contentedly gazing at the strange sight of some of the whiter faces among the Arabs. For instance, Khamis bin Abdullah and his son Khamis, Amer bin Osman and his son Selim, and the boys Abdullah and Mussoud. This paleness of complexion became often a matter of eager speculation, and as those who, fortunately or unfortunately, possessed white faces passed by, the straining of eyes and the narrow scrutiny were amusing to witness, and afforded Selim more especially some discomfort at first. The shepherds and villagers furthermore willingly bartered whatever the Arabs wished for red beads and American domestic. Milk, butter, and eggs were plentiful, which, to the Arab boys, were rare treats after the dry heat and desolate aspect of Western Uhehe. The arms which these shepherds carried were far more formidable than anything they had hitherto seen in the hands of savages. Their bows were longer and heavier, and their arrows longer and more cruelly barbed, and besides a lengthy broad-bladed spear, which resembled a broad Roman sword fastened to a staff, and half a dozen lighter spears-- assegais--and a battle-axe, they carried a knife which might be likened to a broadsword for length and breadth. On the sixth day after their entrance into Urori, the caravans came within sight of a large palisaded village called Kwikuru, or the capital. It contained about eight hundred huts, strongly protected by a lofty fence of hard red wood. This Tillage was protected on one side by a stream of considerable magnitude. On the other side of the village was a grove of fine trees situated from it a distance of about 1000 yards. Into this grove the Arabs marched to encamp. Kwikuru, or the capital, was a good distinction awarded to the village, or town rather, for its size and importance; for, next to Simbamwenni, it was the most populous place they had found in Africa. Cattle grazed by the thousand a little distance off from the grove, attended by watchful and well-armed herdsmen. The lowing of the cows, and the bleating of the sheep and goats, and the braying of a few large donkeys, were welcome sounds to travellers, to whom such sights in Africa were rare. And the long extent of well-tilled ground, in which grew the Indian corn, the manioc, the _holcus sorghum_, the sugar-cane, and plantain, with abundance of vegetables and melons, enhanced the pleasure the Arabs' people naturally felt, unaccustomed as they were, since leaving Zanzibar, to feast their eyes upon such scenes. Late in the afternoon, after the Arab chiefs had, with commendable caution, constructed a dense hedge of bush and branches around their camp, they called a meeting to discuss the measures they should take to open friendly communication with the formidable citizens of Kwikuru. When they were all assembled, the leader Khamis said to them: "My friends, we are at last in Urori, where I suspect we shall have to conduct ourselves differently from what we have been accustomed to. I mean that I fear that tribute may be exacted by the King, and I have called you here to advise prudence, and to ask you to use tact in all your dealings with them. We may have to pay a heavy tribute, for this King is evidently powerful and rich, and a mean present of cloth I expect he will refuse." "Khamis," said Sultan bin Ali, "thou hast done well to advise us upon this beforehand. What amount of cloth dost thou think will suffice this man's greed? We may be liberal, for we can afford it, but we have not one doti (four yards) of cloth too much." The chief answered, "I do not know as yet what amount will suffice, but let us begin prudently, for in that course is wisdom. I suggest that six doti be made up; two doti (eight yards) of Joho cloth for the King, two doti of light checks for his wife, one doti of Muscat check with the red and yellow borders for his eldest son, and one doti of good Kaniki (blue cotton) for the principal elder." "That idea seems excellent to me," said Sultan bin Ali, "and Amer, thou hast a cunning slave called Moto, a Mrori, I believe; let him and another good man take the cloths to the King with words of friendship from us, that we may pass through the country in tranquillity and peace with all men." This advice meeting the approbation of all the chiefs, Moto, accompanied by the kirangozi of Khamis bin Abdullah, who was learned in all the languages of Eastern Central Africa, sallied out of the camp in the direction of Kwikuru, while the Arabs sat in the tent of their leader, hospitably entertained with the beet that the larder could furnish. An hour had barely elapsed before Moto and the kirangozi, or guide, returned to the camp; and going directly to the principal tent, kneeled before the door and said to the Arabs: "Salaam Aleikum!" (Peace be unto you.) To which greeting the Arabs responded with one voice: "Aleikum Salaam!" (And unto you be peace.) "Well, Moto, speak," said Khamis. "Why, you have brought the present back! You have been unsuccessful?" "These are the King's words, which he commanded me to tell you: `Why have you come to my country? Know you not that there is enmity between the Warori and the children of the Arabs? Mostana, the great chief whom the cruel traders slew, was my friend; and can I forget his death with such a contemptible present as that which you have brought to me? Go slaves, and tell your masters that, unless they send me fifty bales of cloth, and fifty guns, with twenty barrels of gunpowder, they must return the way they came.' These, my masters, are the words which Olimali bade us tell you." A deep silence followed this declaration of the King of Kwikuru, and the Arabs instinctively looked at one another in surprise and dismay. Sheikh Mohammed, the black-browed Arab, resolute and determined as he always was, first broke the silence with the question, directed to Moto: "Have you regarded well this village of Olimali?" "I have, master," said Moto. "Is it strong? Speak, for I respect your opinion, Moto." "It is strong, master, much too strong for us to attack it with our people. If the Warori come out of their village they could not take this camp while our men remained within." "That is well-spoken, Moto," replied Mohammed; and turning to Sheikh Khamis, he asked: "Hast thou decided what to do, son of Abdullah?" "Mashallah! my friend, can I decide upon so important a subject as giving away thy property to this greedy infidel? May his soul perish in Al Hotamah! Does he think that cloth, and guns, and powder grow in the jungles of Africa? But this is serious, and we must set on our heads the caps of wisdom and understanding to consider the determination of Olimali. Speak, friends, Arabs of Muscat and chiefs of Zanzibar, my ears are open." Out spoke Amer bin Osman: "Do you think, Moto, if we offered half he would accept?" "No, master, I do not. I think Olimali desires war and not peace, and if he thought you would send fifty bales of cloth, he would ask for fifty more. I heard the people talk, as I left the King's presence, of war. My ears are very sharp." "War!" shouted Mohammed, "then war he shall have, and I shall have the pleasure to put light through his body with my good Shiraz sword;" and Sheikh Mohammed looked as fierce as his threat. "Peace, Mohammed, my friend," said Sultan bin Ali. "It is not everyone who trusteth in his sword flourisheth. I think there are more ways of tiding over this evil hour than by war, even if we were doubly strong with men and guns. Let us act prudently in the hour of danger." "Sultan bin Ali is right," said Sheikh Thani. "Rather let us try all pacific measures first, and let war be the last resource. We have slaves, and women, and little ones in the camp, besides much property. We must remember this before we act hastily." "Thani has spoken well, and with understanding; and I propose that we send forty good cloths and forty ordinary cloths, besides an odd gun or two, with half a keg of powder to Olimali by Moto and the kirangozi, who will speak him fairly and with due respect," said the leader, Khamis. "I do not go again," said Moto. "What I have seen in the village, and what my ears have heard are no light things, and I would ask permission from my master to remain." "Well, never mind, any man will do who has a smooth tongue and fair speech," said Khamis. "Let the kirangozi choose whom he will take, and let him go with the cloth." A man was readily found, who, ignorant of the danger, had no reason to refuse to go upon the errand which the always bold Moto had refused. But even as the guide and his companion were leaving the camp Moto saw he had acted wisely, for the cattle were being driven towards the village with far more expedition than the time of day warranted; but he held his tongue, not wishing to alarm the camp unnecessarily. He followed the movements of the kirangozi and his companion with exceeding interest until they had arrived at the gate, where they were halted; and after a short pause, he saw the two men returning towards the camp. Proceeding to the gate of the camp, he there awaited the arrival of the kirangozi, and when he was near enough Moto quietly asked of him: "Is it peace, or war?" "War!" He needed to hear no more, for he had been certain of it, and he went directly to his friend Simba to communicate the news, who received it with surprise. "War, Moto? Then our fears, my friend, have turned out true, and it is because of the battle which thou wert in with Kisesa against Mostana, eh?" "Yes, Simba; and wouldst thou believe it? I saw two or three fellows eye me pretty hard, and it was for that I refused to go the second time; for if they had known to a certainty that I was in that battle thou wouldst never have seen Moto again, friend Simba." During the greater part of that night the Arabs sat in council, debating how to proceed; but not agreeing, they separated for the night, not, however, without posting sentinels all around the camp under the charge of Sheikh Thani. CHAPTER FOUR. KHAMIS'S ADDRESS TO THE ARABS--PROPOSALS FOR ATTACK ON KWIKURU--SIMBA SPLITS THE GATE FROM TOP TO BOTTOM--THE WARORI CHIEF SHOT--DEATH OF KHAMIS BIN ABDULLAH--AMER BIN OSMAN PIERCED BY AN ARROW--SELIM MADE PRISONER--SELIM BRUTALLY LASHED BY TIFUM--THE THREE ARAB BOYS BROUGHT BEFORE FERODIA--SELIM REFUSES TO DRINK OR DANCE--ABDULLAH REFUSES TO BE CALLED A SLAVE--FLIGHT OF SULTAN BIN ALI--DIVISION OF THE SPOILS--THE MAGIC DRINK: MUTILATION OF THE DEAD--THE CHANT OF THE MAGIC DOCTORS. The young people who have been fortunate in buying this book may not have experience of the battle-field, and therefore may not know what the feelings and thoughts of those who are about to stake their lives against the lives of others for the victory in the bloody contest are. The feeling is the same in all men, whether white or black, though some natures are so constituted that they are enabled to hide feelings which some say partake largely of fear. But I deny that such indicate fear, though, left to themselves, they might create fear. In the Arab camp, as report and rumour had been busy at the camp-fires, a feeling of dread predominated in all minds, but had there been one chief of resolution, with power unlimited over all, a few words of cheer had done wonders in improving the tone of their minds. Khamis bin Abdullah was a brave man; no man might deny that; but his bravery was undisciplined; it was uncultivated; it was the bravery of a wild but noble heart. He had not seen so many battle-fields that he could afford to smile at the declaration of Olimali; he had not the experience of war which would have satisfied him that, however large and numerous the force of Olimali was, he had resources enough in himself to defeat them all. Khamis bin Abdullah could die himself, but he could not bring others to look upon death with calmness and courage. So that, despite the high-spirited courage of his race, which he eminently possessed, the truth must be told without any disparagement to himself; a feeling of depression, some undefined dread, remained settled in his breast, though his outer aspect, his mien, or behaviour, did not betray this. As it was with Khamis, so was it with the other chiefs. Amer bin Osman was as brave as a lion, but he could not depend upon his people as he could depend upon himself personally, and this thought created the dread, and doubt, and apprehension of something undefinable, which all the chiefs at this critical moment felt. Sheikh Mohammed, Sultan bin Ali, and the rest were as brave as any living men. Had there been only one hundred Arabs, a doubtful issue of the war would never have been entertained; but there were only twelve Arabs and six hundred black men; and how long would the black men stand together? At sunrise, another meeting was called, and the Arab chiefs, with their sons, hastened to the council. Khamis, the leader, when all had been seated, said: "My friends, the last words of Olimali, according to my kirangozi, were that the Arabs need not try to tempt him to forego his revenge, but that we must prepare for war. We can easily prepare for war, for we are always ready; but we must endeavour to sustain each other by friendly counsel and cheering words; for in a fatal issue to us of this war we know what the fate of us true believers will be. We can hold out in our camp against four times the number that Olimali may bring against us. We are weak, however, in this country, because we have no friends to supply us with food, and it is not a little that will suffice to feed six hundred souls. The men had no food yesterday, they have none to-day; they cannot hold out long in the camp against hunger. In this case what do you propose?" Sultan bin Ali spoke and said, "Our answer has been given to us, and there is no longer any doubt of what we have to do. We must fight, but how fight is the question. Shall we await here in the camp the coming of the infidel savages, or shall we sally out of the camp and attack them in their boma (palisade)?" Sheikh Mohammed answered, "We cannot remain in the camp to starve and eat each other; we must go out and get cattle, while a few of us stop inside here to strengthen the camp with branches. I would suggest also that a trench be dug all around the camp, and the earth thrown against the hedge as a parapet. Wallahi! I have seen such things done in Unyanyembe, and the enemy beaten." "Mohammed's words are well spoken," said Amer bin Osman. "I would advise eleven of us sally out with our men, and one Arab remain with one hundred men, who will stir themselves to strengthen the defences with our cloth bales and baggage; and if we have to fall back, we shall find a strong place ready for us. We can harry those infidels; though they may be hidden behind triple rows of palisades, some of our bullets will reach them. Thanks to Allah! we have enough ammunition with us." "Very good indeed," said Sheikh Thani, a wiry, cautious old man, who had had much experience in Africa; "but supposing we are beaten in our attack upon the palisades of Kwikuru, we shall not be any better off than we were before, but worse; our men will get disheartened, and starvation will stare us in the face. I propose that five hundred men, divided into two parties, make for the gates as quickly as possible, and break open everything with all the speed we can. It is only in this way that we can succeed." "The oldest among ye have spoken," said the leader Khamis, "and ye have spoken well. But I have been in Urori before, and know the customs of the Warori. If we succeed in taking this village of Kwikuru, we cannot hope to be permitted to march through this country any more; but as soon as we take it we must strike along the road to Unyanyembe. It is useless for me to tell ye that I advised ye at first not to take the Urori road. I shall not quarrel with ye about that now, but will try to do my best for our general safety. If we succeed in destroying Olimali and his people, we must begin our march north to Unyanyembe to-night, for in two days the fugitives will carry the news from one end of the country to another." "Excellently spoken, brave Khamis," said Amer bin Osman. "Thou hast a wise head, and art a worthy leader. Do thou, with thy men and other chiefs, attack one gate, and I, with my men and other chiefs, will attack the other gate, and whosoever takes a gate first, let him blow on his horn once. I advise now that whatsoever we may have we shall eat, and that after we break our fast we sally out." "Praised be Allah for his goodness! Let us eat; then fight!" all shouted. In half an hour breakfast had been despatched, and every chief sallied out with his men under his respective flag, except Sultan bin Ali, who was left with one hundred men to prepare the camp for defence in case of failure. Simba and Moto had also had their little council together; and as they marched by the side of Amer bin Osman, various signs might have been seen by the observer to pass between them, accompanied by many ominous shakings of the head. A deep silence prevailed near the village; not a soul was seen, not a dog was heard to bark; but the sun shone as usual with its summer heat, and the sky was perfectly cloudless and beautiful in its azure purity. But little did the approaching Arabs and their followers heed the beauty of the sky, the brilliancy of the day, or the heat of the sun. When they had advanced within 300 yards of the village, the force under Amer bin Osman separated from that of Khamis bin Abdullah, and marched at a respectful distance from the village towards the southern gate, and when he had gained his position, at a preconcerted signal both forces began their firing, advancing rapidly as they fired. The village stirred not; not a sign of life was visible for some time, until the Arabs had approached within fifty yards; then clouds of arrows were seen to issue from the village, and furious yells were heard, which seemed to rend the sky. Numbers of the Arab followers fell pierced to the core by the arrows; but the animated shouts of their chiefs spurred them on towards the palisade. In a few moments, after repeated discharges of musketry, the Arabs gained the outer defence of the village, and, intruding their guns between the tall posts, were soon firing right in the faces of the astonished but not dismayed people of Olimali. But at this juncture, a long blast on a deep-sounding horn was heard from the interior, simultaneously with a shorter and shriller sound which proceeded from the southern gate. The shriller horn belonged to Amer bin Osman, and was blown by Moto; but what did the bass horn from the interior of the village mean? But there was no time to lose in conjecture. Amer bin Osman had advanced with resistless impetuosity towards the southern gate, and the gigantic Simba had, with one blow of his heavy axe, split the gate from top to bottom, and, giving it a strong push with his foot, had sent it flying open, through which, accompanied by his master Amer and Selim, who carried his rifle, he had bounded into the interior, firing his musket with the utmost rapidity. Amer's followers, animated by the valour of their master and the immense strength of Simba, now became as brave as lions, and vied with each other in noise and bravery. Not being able to make their way rapidly enough by the gate, which was thronged by the besiegers, they climbed over the palisades like monkeys, and little Niani's agility might have astonished his namesake. Abdullah, Mussoud, and Isa were with their parents, Sheikhs Mohammed and Hamdan, and they crept through the gate much behind Selim and his father Amer, owing to the press of besiegers. So quickly had Simba gained the gate and destroyed it, that all the fugitives were not able to enter the inner inclosure which surrounded the king's quarters, and a body of them, numbering about fifty, under the leadership of the king's eldest son, now stood with their backs to the palisades, resolutely confronting Simba and his companions, with heavy spears in their hands. Simba, at this time before a foe on whom he could exert the full power of his arm, became transformed into the embodiment of a black Mars, the god of war. He was no longer the humble and obedient servant of Sheikh Amer and the true friend of Selim. He was more; he was their irresistible leader. In his eyes glowed the ardour of fierce battle; the terrible savage spirit of the Warundi, hitherto constrained for faithful, though menial, service, had burst its trammels, and he now stood, with uplifted musket,--confessed--the bronze Achilles of the war. His fierce eye caused the doomed fugitives to quail with cowardly dread; and when aimed at him, the heavy spears of the Warori fell harmless at his feet. Giving vent to the hitherto latent passion of the savage's soul in a loud bellowing cry, he sprang forward, and the rapidity with which he dealt his blows with his clubbed musket awed even the warrior soul of his Arab chief. But not for long did Amer pause to regard even the prowess of Simba. Calling to his followers, he raised his long two-edged sword, and darted at the enemy, plying the weapon best known to him and his race with a power which elicited as much admiration as Simba's strength of arm and dexterity of stroke had done. Rendered desperate by the knowledge of their situation, the remaining Warori, headed by their chief, made a rush towards their enemies and used their heavy spears with frantic energy. In front of the Warori chief stood Selim, firing and loading his rifle with a coolness and method which would have won applause from his father's people had the combatants not been so busily engaged. He was in the act of re-loading when the desperate rush of the Warori was made, and their chief stood with uplifted spear above him; but well was it for him that the watchful eye of Moto was on him, else had our story been ended here, ere it is hardly begun. When it seemed that Selim could not have been saved, and he stood expectant of the blow which would have ended his young life there and then, he saw the chief's head fall back with a cruel jagged wound in the temple, through which the bullet of Moto had sped home. The Warori no longer resisted when they saw their chief fall, and attempted to fly, but the force of Arabs was too numerous; they fell dead to a man. Khamis bin Abdullah had also been successful. Cheered by the news which the horn of Amer conveyed, he soon effected an entrance, and, accompanied by his followers, he had entered the village, and almost similar scenes awaited him, though not so sanguinary. When they had succeeded in forcing the outer inclosure, they had still a hard struggle before them to conquer the village; but they, no doubt, would have done so had not a new enemy come upon the field. Unknown to the Arabs, a few miles west of the village was stationed a large body of Watuta, whose chief had been sent by Katalambula, brother of the dead Mostana, to pay his respects to his brother's friends, and to renew "assurances of his esteem and consideration" for them, as the old letters used to say. This body of Watuta was one thousand strong, and as soon as the Arab caravans hove in sight, Olimali had despatched messengers to Ferodia, the Watuta chief, telling him of his intentions, and bidding him hasten to the neighbourhood to watch events, and to be ready for the signal, as he intended to attack the Arab camp. But the attack of the Arabs upon his village had caused him to give the signal earlier than he had at first anticipated, and the easy entrance of the Arabs into the outer village had been partly effected through the connivance of this wily chief, though in the loss of warriors and in the death of his eldest son he had paid dearly for his treachery. While the Arabs and their followers now devoted their attention to the attack upon the inner inclosure, which was vigorously defended, the major number of the Watuta had risen, in response to the deep-sounding war-horn of the Warori, from among the corn-fields to the west of the village and camp of the Arabs, and had hurried to the rescue. They came upon the outer inclosure just as the Arabs commenced their attack upon the inner palisade, and the first time the Arabs knew of their presence was when they were first fired upon before and behind. The followers of the Arabs, before so valiant, now became panic-stricken, and they simultaneously made a rush for the gates, while, the defiant yells of the savages completely drowned their cries; but the cunning Watuta had closed the gates, or had so barricaded them that egress was impossible. They now saw nothing but death staring them in the face--savages in front, savages behind; both parties defended by palisades, while they stood exposed between, to be shot to death in their tracks. It was useless for the Arab leaders to attempt to encourage them, for one after another of these brave men fell and died. Khamis bin Abdullah fell, pierced by a dozen arrows, and his son, the noble young Khamis--the proud-spirited young Arab--fell also across the body of his father at the hands of the people whom he so much despised. Mussoud, and Thani, and Amram died also bravely, and one after another of their followers fell to rise no more, until those who were left threw down their guns crying "Aman, aman!" (Mercy, mercy!) upon seeing which the Watuta and Warori desisted from further murder, to make slaves of those who cried for quarter. The force under Amer bin Osman, Sheikh Mohammed, and Hamdan, and the other chiefs, fared as badly. They were engaged in vigorously attacking the inner defence in front of them, when they heard a loud gurgling shriek issue from Sheikh Mohammed, who had been pierced in the nape of the neck from an arrow behind, and on turning to see whence it came, they were dismayed to find an enemy of another tribe behind them. Moto, on seeing them, shouted "The Watuta! the Watuta! Olimali has betrayed us into their hands." Bimba, hearing the words of Moto, desisted from further attack, and came to Amer bin Osman, counselling him to fly with him, and handing him a shield to cover his body, which, from the dress he wore, was a prominent mark. Moto also held a couple of shields before Selim, while Abdullah and Mussoud were ordered to do the same. "Fly!" said the astonished Amer--"fly! Ah, Simba, my friend, had we wings, we might fly. See you not the gate is closed?" "The gate is closed, I know, great master, but Simba's arm is strong, and I will force it open." "No, Simba, I cannot fly to be butchered like a bullock outside. I shall meet my fate here. Ha! do you hear that? See! the savages are within. Khamis bin Abdullah is dead! Save my boy Selim, for his mother's sake! Ho, my son, come to me! One embrace before we part for ever; but, my son, remember, I shall meet thee in Paradise!" The father and son were united in a fervent embrace when Amer received an arrow in the back from within the inner inclosure, which caused him to fall, with his son in his arms, to the ground. The arrow had been driven by a strong hand, for the point projected in front and slightly wounded Selim in the chest, the blood of father and son commingling in one stream. "Brave Simba and faithful Moto, where are ye? Save my boy!" cried Amer, looking up with glazed eyes at the two who bent over him, heart-stricken with sorrow. "Save my darling Selim! Save him for the love I bore you! Ah, Selim, my son, kiss thy mother for thy fa--Amina!--Sel--Ah!"--and the great soul of Amer hastened upward to the Judgment Seat. Simba and Moto, when they saw their master had breathed his last, stretched his form out evenly, and, placing a cloth reverently over his face, caught hold of Selim, and pressing the heart-broken boy to the ground, close by the body of his father, said to him: "Lie still, young master. Nay, but you must. Your father commanded us to save you, and we will; but you must do what we advise you. Think of your mother, of many happy days yet in store for you. Lie still as death, and they will take you to Katalambula's village, and there you will meet us. Here, Abdullah! Mussoud! Isa! lie down here, alongside of Selim. What, all the chiefs dead already! Wallahi! but this is a sad day for the Arabs at Zanzibar!" Having given these instructions to the Arab boys, which had been given in much less time than we have taken to record them, Simba and Moto also fell to the ground, but retaining their spears and shields in their hands. By this time the Watuta were within the village, crowing triumphantly over their success; but Ferodia, the chief, after giving orders to bind the captives, hastened away with nearly all his force to attack the camp, which, under old Sultan bin Ali, held out still against the force that had been detached to attack it. While the few remaining Watuta were binding the captives, Simba and Moto rose to their feet, and, using their spears right and left, soon cleared a passage to the gate, before the astonished savages could recover their senses. Once outside the gate, Simba and Moto exerted their powers to the utmost, and by their extraordinary speed soon left their pursuers far behind. Finding it useless to pursue the runaways, the Watuta began to examine the wounded, and especially the Arabs, whom they surveyed with astonishment. The group formed by Amer bin Osman, Selim his son, Abdullah, Mussoud, and Isa, attracted them most for their rich dresses. They began to strip the bodies, but their astonishment was very great when they perceived Isa sit up and fold his hands, asking for mercy. Suspecting that others shammed death, they laid hold of Selim, and he also sat up; then Abdullah and Mussoud, and they also sat up, looking very sheepish, or like guilty people caught doing a mean action. Angry at the cheat, as they imagined, to have been practised upon them, they snatched the cloth from the face of the dead body of Amer bin Osman; but there was no mistaking him--he was dead. Some were for slaying the boys at once; but the majority interposed, and said in an inquiring tone, "Why slay boys, when you can make slaves of them?" which shortly met general approbation. Upon agreeing to this, they began to strip Isa, who shortly found himself as naked as when he was born; but being extremely dark of colour, there appeared nothing remarkable about him to attract any special attention, and he was taken at once to the other captives, where he wae firmly bound with strips of green bark. They then laid violent hands on the others, on Selim, Abdullah, and Mussoud; and despite their struggles and tears, they were soon denuded of their finery and of their rich embroidered dress. When they saw the pale and clean colour of their bodies, the fierce Watuta gathered about them, and wondered what strange beings these were who were all over white, while they themselves were all black. They looked at the wound in Selim's chest, and on pressing it saw the red blood flow, which only increased their astonishment; for how could people with white skins have red blood? But Selim's proud heart was rebelling against the indignity of being stared at as a curious specimen of humanity, and he had endeavoured to hide his blushes with his hands; but when they pulled them down, and ordered him to show his tongue and teeth, and began to feel the muscles of his arms and legs, then he could bear no more; and flinging himself across the dead body of his father, he wept aloud, and prayed to God that he might die. Abdullah and Mussoud were as yet too terrified to do more than cry silently; and they were accordingly led away and bound without resistance. They then took hold of Selim to tie him, but he would not rise; and, angered at what they deemed his stubbornness, two warriors brought the shafts of their spears full upon his body, which had well-nigh broken the high courage of the young Arab; for so great was the pain his pride suffered, and so indescribable were his emotions, that he lay like one stunned. While the boy lay fainting in the hot sun amid the dead and the blood, the chief of the party in charge of the prisoners, casting his eyes around, saw a whip of hippopotamus-hide in the waist-cloth of one of the dead fundis, or overseers, of the Arabs. This pliant and formidable whip the chief--a man of stern and forbidding aspect, whose name was Tifum (pronounced Tee-foom),--Tifum Byah, or the "Wicked Tifum," and who was evidently a traveller--handled like a man who knew its uses, for he made it fly about his arm in black circles, and made it hiss its menace in the ears of the sorely-tried Selim. "Proud Arab boy, arise! Tifum Byah speaks but once, else you will feel the pains of this whip, with which your cursed race torture the backs of your slaves. Many days lie between here and Ututa, and you will suffer more than this ere you see our plains. Arise! No? then words are light as air, and seldom go into the ears of the stubborn;" and as he spoke, he lashed the prostrate youth with all his might, while the shrieks which the pain elicited at last from him were responded to by the mocking laughter of the brutal crowd, who pointed at the marks which the whip made in high glee. When Tifum fancied he had punished him enough, he ordered the boy to be assisted up to his feet and bound; and when this was done Tifum lowered his face to Selim's, and said, "Mark my words, child of the pale race! You shall be Tifum's slave, to hoe his field and bring him wood and water. You shall nurse his children, be a herdsman of his cattle, and I will break your heart, and make your ears open to his slightest breath. Do you hear me, white face?" So strong was the nauseous and hateful repugnance he felt towards this man that Selim could not repress the expression of the loathing that filled him, and almost unconsciously he spat in his face, which was instantly retaliated by Tifum with a tremendous box on the ear, which prostrated the boy once more across the dead body of Amer, where he lay like one deprived of life, and not all the brutal lashing which the almost lifeless form received evoked one groan from him; and it was in this unconscious state that he was carried to where the other prisoners stood huddled together like frightened sheep. Then, directing his attention to the dead bodies of the Arabs, these were ordered to be denuded of their clothing, and to be laid in a row together, Sheikhs Khamis, Amer, Abdullah, Mussoud, Thani, Hamdan, Mohammed, Amram, and young Khamis, and two others of lesser note--an honourable company truly, even in death! There seemed to have penetrated into the brain of the unconscious Selim some idea of what was about to occur; for as soon as the dead had been gathered together, he raised his head and sat up, with his eyes fixed upon the dishonoured bodies of his father and his father's friends, which were laid side by side. He heeded not the taunts of the Warori who had collected to menace and insult the prisoners, and feast their curiosity with a sight of the noble dead; he heeded not the groans of his boy-companions Isa, Abdullah, and Mussoud, nor the wailing of the little slave Niani, who had been born on his father's estate, and who was now crying his eyes out for the loss of his master Amer, and for the more pitiable condition of his young master Selim; he heeded not the hot sun which was blistering his back with its fierce heat, nor the scores of flies which troubled his numerous wounds; he sat heedless of all, with his great eyes fixed sadly on the remains of his father. But night was approaching, and Ferodia had not yet returned. Volleys of musketry were heard incessantly all the afternoon; but as the sun set the musketry ceased, and Ferodia returned with all but a few of his people, when it was reported that the camp still held out, but that in the morning all the fighting men of Olimali and Ferodia would take the camp at a rush. Until then he had left a few of his men to watch it, lest they might abscond at night and take away the most part of the great wealth which must be stored within the camp. The losses of the Watuta had been excessively heavy, as, when Ferodia darted out with his victorious men, it was expected that the camp would have surrendered at once; but it seems that Sultan bin Ali had so well fortified it that it was almost impregnable, and that the Watuta had been punished severely. The Warori of the village of Kwikuru had prepared food in a great quantity for the warriors of Ferodia, who were too much engaged with satisfying their ravenous hunger to display much interest in prisoners whom they knew were secure; and when they had finished, they had so gorged their stomachs with food and pombe, that they were too indolent to stir. But when Tifum, who was obsequious enough to Ferodia, though cruel to his subordinates, had told the latter of the interesting character of the white slaves, as he called the three Arab boys, and how he had found them shamming death, he commanded him to bring them before him and Olimali that they might be amused. Tifum hastened out obedient to his chief's mandates, and, arriving before the prisoners, searched for the Arab boys, who had already forgotten their misery in a deep sleep. Finding that they were in a too uninteresting condition to amuse his master, he had several gourds full of water brought to him, which he threw over them to cause them to cast off the disposition to sleep. This being done, he led them to the presence of his chief. Ferodia was holding forth to Olimali upon the prospects of the great riches they should share with each other on the morrow when the young prisoners were ushered before him. By the dim light which the torches gave out, they appeared much more pallid and strange in a land where white people had never been seen; indeed, one might say they were rather alarming; and it is no wonder that Ferodia started as the three were pushed towards him. But, quickly recovering himself, as he remembered who they were, he burst out into a laugh, saying, "Ah, I remember, these are the Arab youths thou didst speak to me of, Tifum. This pombe, Olimali, is strong. I think it has made me light-headed,"--speaking these words aside to the Mrori chief. Then attentively fixing his gaze upon the prisoners, and looking them all over, he said, half to himself, "What strange people these Arabs are--all white! Their hides are as white almost as the yolk of eggs but how came the tallest one, I wonder, to have so many wounds?" "Tifum," said Ferodia, aloud, "what ails this tallest lad? These wounds are not the wounds of arrows." Tifum, bending his back almost double, said, "My chief, this boy is as stubborn as an ass. When I remembered the cruelties the people of this boy have practised upon those of our colour, my blood boiled within me, and when I told him to arise and be bound like the other prisoners, he spat in my face, and I flogged him." "Pah, pah, Tifum! he but acted as the Watuta boys would have done; but lay not thine hand on him again. I take him for my slave. The boy is half dead already. Here," said he, addressing Selim, "drink this," handing him a good ladleful of sparkling pombe; "it will put life in thy dull veins." Selim shook his head and curled his lips in scorn, and looked at the half-inebriated chief with contemptuous indifference. The chief regarded him for a moment in silence, with the cup still stretched, and then said, "Thou art right, Tifum; no Mtuta boy would have had the courage to refuse a cup of pombe from a chief, nor regard his future master with such a look. He is a fool, and stubborn as an ass, truly. But I will tame him, or I will kill him. How Kalulu, the nephew of Katalambula, will wonder at him! Why, he must be of the same age as Kalulu; but Kalulu is taller and stronger; but I doubt if he has this lad's high courage, though he is proud as if he were already king of the Watuta. Kalulu would act differently from this youth if he were in his place; he would have taken the pombe and then killed me as soon as he had the opportunity. Ah! Kalulu is a true Mtuta. But here I am with the cup still in my hand. If this boy will not drink it, perhaps the others will. Here, you!" addressing himself to Abdullah, "drink, young one. No? And you refuse it, too? Well, you smallest one," to Mussoud. "Not even you? Strange youths! Dost thou speak their language, Tifum?" "A little, my chief." "Ask this tallest one why will he not take this cup of pombe from the hand of Ferodia, chief of the Watuta warriors." "Boy," said Tifum, addressing Selim, "Ferodia, chief of the Watuta warriors, demands to know why you will not accept the drink at his hands." "Then tell thy master," said Selim, without ever, turning his eyes towards the man, "that I may not accept anything in kindness from his hands, since he gives it to me while he believes me to be a slave. Tell him I am not his slave, and never shall do his bidding save under constant compulsion." When Tifum had communicated this to his chief, Ferodia burst into another loud laugh; then said: "This boy is verily proud; but, Tifum, ask him to dance." "Dance!" said Selim, when the order was communicated to him--"Dance! when my heart is breaking, when my father lies dead and dishonoured before yonder gates! Sooner would I die than obey!" "Then tell him to sing," shouted Ferodia, laughing. "Sing!" replied Selim. "How long, oh Allah! shall I suffer these tortures? Sing! As well might you ask the dead to sing!" "What, will he do nothing, then? I will wait until the marts of thy rough hand have been cured, when I will make marks of my own on that hide of his," said Ferodia, with a wrathful glance in his eye. "But where is that whip of thine, Tifum?" "Here, my chief, at the door of the house," said he, rising to fetch it. "Give it me." And giving Selim a severe stroke with it across his shoulders, he ordered him to stand back, and Tifum to cut the bonds of the boys Abdullah and Mussoud. Then, commanding the youths to be brought before him, he told Tifum to tell Abdullah to dance and Mussoud to sing. For awhile Abdullah hung down his head in confusion, not seeming to understand or to realise that _he_, the son of Mohammed, was actually required to dance by the slayer of his father; while Mussoud looked from Abdullah to the chief Ferodia's face in quite a foolish way. "Ask him, Tifum," said Abdullah, in a trembling voice, "if Ferodia understands what he requires of me." "Why need I ask him? Do I not tell you that he commands you to dance, and the other slave to sing?" "Slave!" shouted Abdullah, recovering quickly firmness of tone in his voice. "Slave! Lying dog! Do you call my brother a slave? Am I a slave?" "What does he say?" thundered Ferodia. "He says he is not a slave, and calls me a liar. They are all asses and sons of asses," replied Tifum. "Verily, though they own hundreds of black slaves at Zanzibar, they don't seem to know that the chance of war has made them slaves." "Tell him, Tifum, that I say he is a slave, he and his brother; that they shall be my slaves; that they shall do whatever I bid them, and if not, that I will punish them until they do. Ferodia speaks." "Do you hear and understand, asses and sons of asses?" asked Tifum of Abdullah and Mussoud. "Do ye hear, children of the Arabs? Ferodia the chief tells you that you shall be his slaves to do his bidding, and if you do not, he will punish you. Listen to the chief's words, and obey him." "We are Arabs," said Abdullah, proudly tossing, his head back, while his chest seemed to dilate with the great thought. "We are Arabs, and children of the Arabs of Muscat. A chief of the free Bedaween was my father Mohammed, and I am his son Abdullah. The desert wind is not freer than our never-conquered race, and every child of that race is free. We, therefore, cannot be slaves. Ferodia has lied." "Tell him, Tifum, that I will beat him until he is bleeding on this floor--until he confesses himself my slave." "Ferodia says he will beat you, Abdullah, if that be your name, until you bleed on this floor." "Tell him from me he may beat me until I die, but he cannot make me a slave. Has he not slain my father, and has he not dishonoured me by causing me to stand naked before him? Can he punish me more? He is a strong man--you call him a chief; he has in his hand a whip; he says he will use it. I am but a child, but he cannot make me a slave. See, I go to him nearer, and turn my back to him. I will not cry, though he tear my flesh;" and the indomitable young Arab walked up nearer to the chief, looked at him in the eye for a second, then slowly turned his bare back to him, and with bended head and folded arms waited for the blow. Ferodia, though a chief and a Mtuta warrior, was a true savage; he had never heard of that rare quality which belongs to races civilised and semi-civilised, and is called magnanimity, or a generous forbearance to a conquered foe. He beheld the defenceless boy who was fully in his power standing within reach of the lash he held in his hand,--that delicate youth with the fair and faultless skin, on which an angry blow had never descended, which a whip had never dishonoured,--and the savage could not restrain his instincts of cruelty or the delight to torture and rend which is the instinct of wild men as well as of wild animals. So, when Tifum explained to him what Abdullah had said, and what he meant by thus turning his back to him, Ferodia, as though it were an everyday matter in which no principle was involved, lifted his whip, and as he saw the tender flesh shrink and redden, and then bleed and gape, it but kindled the desire to hurt; but a powerful antidote and corrective,--even subjugator, you may say,--was the resolute passiveness and determined silence of his victim; and without being aware himself of what lessened the power of his blows, and weakened his anger, and finally conquered the desire to torture, his arm was stayed, and still the boy stood up, now confronting him, with the same steady gaze and heroic mien, to ask the astonished savage with a curling lip: "Well, have you made me a slave now? Am I more a slave than before?" "Stand aside, fool, else I will do thee a greater harm; and thou, Tifum, away with them, treat them as slaves; and when we are on the road, give them loads to carry. Since they think it such a terrible thing to be naked, let their nakedness be seen of men and women, and if they suffer through it, so much the better. Slaves were made to suffer. Are my words nothing? Shall these baby-faces beard me before my own people?" So saying, Ferodia threw his whip from him, and drowned his further reflections in a mighty gourd-bowl full of strong pombe; and as he sighed his content, all traces of anger vanished; and as he observed his friend Olimali had long ago measured his length upon the clay floor of the hut, he laughed heartily; but the fumes of the pombe he had already drunk were rapidly conquering the conqueror--even Ferodia, chief of the Watuta. The first news Ferodia and Olimali received, when they had recovered in the morning from their drunken stupor, was not calculated to content them. This was the flight of Sultan bin Ali and his men by night from the camp, with but two or three bales of cloth, so that a party flying for their lives, and so lightly laden, were not easily to be overtaken, and could not be done before they would reach a country friendly to the Arabs. Still, when the two chiefs, after venting a few angry expletives, came to reflect, to converse, and turn over coolly, calmly, and deliberately the news, it was found not to be so bad after all-- rather the reverse; until, finally, it was settled that the news was the best that could be heard of what might concern them, and they felt accordingly very gratified. Four hundred bales of cloth and beads, one hundred kegs of powder, a vast number of bullets, rugs, carpets, counterpanes, feather pillows, richly embroidered caps, knives, looking-glasses, despatch-boxes, a few guns, kettles, cups and saucers, sugar, coffee, tea, spices, curry, and numberless little things which go to make the miscellaneous sum-total of the plunder of a large and wealthy caravan--in short, the sum of fifty thousand silver dollars would not have covered the cost price of the articles found in the Arabs' deserted camp. In the possession of these articles, what a difference had been made within twenty-four hours in that small area contained within the compass of a square half mile, a spot in Africa that might be covered by a pin's point on an ordinary school-map of the world! How much noise, confusion, blowing of gunpowder, did the fact of possession comprehend! How many lives had been destroyed! What noble men had died! How much misery had been created! And on such a very small spot in this world, that no one would ever have heard of it, had I not been elected the historian of the battle of Kwikuru! Yet who will dare deny my right and duty to relate truly and clearly how it all happened--what dashing bravery Simba showed; how Khamis bin Abdullah and his lion-hearted son and the noble Amer bin Osman died; how our proud, high-spirited heroes, the Arab youths, Selim, Abdullah, and Mussoud, endured their sad misfortunes--to illustrate the high and noble principles involved in all these things, and to point with bold finger the moral which adorns this chronicle? Happy are ye, my young readers, if your eyes fall upon these few pages; for ye shall be counted as those to whom a new world of human life has been revealed, where exist passions and joys so akin to our own that none may be so blind as not to perceive our relationship to them! Putting by moralising for the present, let us glance at the incidents which transpired on the news of the desertion of the Arab camp becoming generally known. Ferodia and Olimali became exceedingly elated when the rich store of plunder was described to them. They rubbed their hands, like two children rejoicing gleefully over a nice Christmas present; they laughed, and giggled, and said so many tender silly things to one another, that the historian of these events finds his patience too exhausted to relate them. Trusty men were at once despatched to the camp to superintend the removal of the riches to Kwikuru, and when they were all conveyed into the inner inclosure and exhibited to the view of the chiefs, they could barely realise that they were the actual possessors of all this immense wealth until they had peered into every box, and felt over and over again the texture of the gaudy cloths before them. The palisade was lined by men, women, and children, who endeavoured to thrust their over-large heads for such intentions through the narrow spaces between the poles. Their cries of admiration were irrepressible. They hummed, and hawed, and heyed, and coughed their immeasurable satisfaction. The division of the spoils was made with religious justice. Ferodia retained half of everything, and to Olimali, his friend and ally, was given the other half. But their respective halves were so large, that there was no room for quarrel, and the most ambitious African could never have dreamed of such abundant store as had now fallen into the hands of these fortunate chiefs. When Ferodia, assisted by ten favourite head men, had reckoned up, after much mental calculation, how much cloth he had, he could only express it by saying that there were belonging to him one hundred hundreds of dotis and sixty hundreds of dotis of cloth, including all kinds; or, as we should say, with our expressive terms, there were 16,000 doti, or 64,000 yards. Ferodia caused his warriors to be drawn up in line. Though a few had been killed, still there were enough men in the line to warrant the statement that there were 900 men where originally there had been 1000 of them. To these warriors the head men delivered six doti each of mixed cloth, which left in Ferodia's possession 10,600 dotis. The odd 600 were for himself and his head men and doctors of magic--himself, as may be supposed, retaining the lion's share. The remaining 10,000 dotis, and the beads and other things, were for the king Katalambula and his prospective heir, Prince Kalulu. The 10,000 dotis of cloth were made into 200 light portable bales containing fifty dotis each, which weighed about forty pounds. The beads were distributed for the like purpose, as well as the fifty barrels of powder, etc. etc. The distribution having taken place, and each warrior made perfectly satisfied with his share, there remained one more duty to perform--a religious duty--which might not be neglected long, and this was the religious ceremony of making each warrior magically strong in arm and limb, by giving him to drink of the consecrated drink. This ceremony took place the evening of the day after the battle. First, fires were lighted around a large circle outside the boma, or outer palisade of Kwikuru, with only one entrance left for the passage of the sacrificial bodies of the dead Arabs. The bodies, being all denuded of their clothing, were laid diametrically across the circle. Then earthen, tin, and copper pots full of water, with some millet-flour in each, were placed over the fire, and then small bottle gourds (with numbers of small pebbles in them), two for each magic doctor, were prepared and placed near the heads of the bodies. Everything being thus ready, the magic doctors took their sharp knives in their hands and began their work. To the sound of a low crooning song, or rather chant, the words of which could not be distinguished, the knives were set to work on the bodies of their enemies, first in cutting the tips of each nose, then the lower lip, then the flesh under the chin, then the ears and the eyebrows, which, when ended, they conveyed to the pots over the fires. Continuing their work, the nipples of the breasts were then cut, the muscles of their arms and legs, and, lastly, the whole of the flesh covering the abdomen, which they took and placed in the pots over the fire. Then the hearts were extracted, and, finally, the fat of the entrails of each body. After this mutilation and disfigurement of the dead, the head of each body was cut off and placed on the end of pointed poles, to be borne around the camp during the ceremonial song. Within half an hour the water had boiled sufficiently, and the magic doctors, taking the wonderful gourds filled with pebbles in their hands, began to shake them to the tune of a monotonous chant, in the chorus of which the warriors, bearing the heads aloft on poles, joined, marching slowly as they sang around the circle. The words ran thus, as well as they may be translated: Oh, the horrible, fearful battle, Where warriors slew and were slain, Where dead lay unnumbered, and wounds were made, Till the field ran red with blood that was shed In the horrible, fearful battle. _Chorus_. With the blood that was shed In the horrible, fearful battle. Ferodia the chief, Ferodia the strong, The lion and leopard in war, Tifum Byah, Maro, and Wafanyah, Great chiefs of the unconquer'd Watuta, In the horrible, fearful battle, _Chorus_. In the horrible, fearful battle. They heard the loud note, the war-horn's note, Olimali, their friend, was distress'd; They rose from the bush, they rose from the ground, They rush'd to Kwikuru, and hemm'd them round, For a horrible, fearful battle. _Chorus_. For a horrible, fearful battle. The Arabs and blacks who came from afar. Who came from near the sea, To give the Warori and Watuta, King Olimali and Ferodia, A horrible, fearful battle. _Chorus_. A horrible, fearful battle. Warori were brave, the Watuta were strong, 'Gainst those who came from afar. The Arabs lie dead by hundreds around; They will hear never more the war-horn's sound, For a horrible, fearful battle. _Chorus_. For a horrible, fearful battle. Then, drink, warriors! drink the true magic drink! The strength of your enemies slain! Drink of the blood, of the fat, and the heart, Drink to commemorate before we part, The horrible, fearful battle. _Chorus_. Before we part The horrible, fearful battle. Then, drink, warriors! drink the true magic drink! The strength of your enemies slain! Be strengthened in heart, in limb, and in arm, Be strong, be swift, be wise, and safe from harm In each horrible, fearful battle. _Chorus_. And safe from harm In each horrible, fearful battle. When this chant was over, which has been rendered into English as faithfully as possible, the poles on which the ghastly trophies had been placed were planted in the ground before each gate of the village. But the young Arabs were spared this fearful scene, as they had been sent ahead with the loads, escorted by a strong guard. Then, the ceremony over, the chief Ferodia embraced in a loving manner his friend Olimali, and departed to the sound of booming horns and drums, and a general grateful look from the young women of Kwikuru--he and his warriors. At sunset they camped in a forest, through which the road led towards the south-west. CHAPTER FIVE. SIMBA AND MOTO'S MIDNIGHT HALT IN THE FOREST--MOTO'S PLAN FOR SAVING SELIM--BIMBA AND MOTO MADE PRISONERS AT KATALAMBULA'S VILLAGE--THEY ARE BROUGHT BEFORE THE KING--KALULU RECOGNISES MOTO--THE KING GIVES EACH OF THEM A WIFE--KALULU'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE--THE GREAT AFRICAN GIANTESS-- THE MARRIAGE SONG--CONCLUSION OF THE MARRIAGE FESTIVITIES. Simba and Moto were men as capable of enduring fatigue as the Watuta were, as good runners also; so that even had their enemies pursued them with a greater determination than they showed, the two men might have laughed securely, as night would soon have shrouded them with its friendly mantle. For a long time, however, the two held on their way, raising their eyes every now and then toward the bright Southern Cross, which shone so clearly, and pointed their future road so plainly. They travelled with their figures half-profile to the Cross, or in a south-westerly direction. But at midnight the two halted in the denser portion of the forest; and there they built two fires and prepared their resting-places with leaves and tender twigs; and having done so, they breathed a long sigh of relief, sat down, and gradually their eyes lost the eager, intelligent look in vacancy. But after a while Simba said in a deep, low voice, half to himself and half to Moto: "Wallahi! but this has been a sad day for us. That large and costly caravan and the brave men and leaders are gone. It was but last night I stood at their tent-door, looking at my noble master Amer and his friend Khamis, and I was thinking that there never lived finer and nobler-looking men. Ah, Arab sheikhs! where are ye now, chiefs of Zanzibar?" Then, raising his head, he said, "Answer me, thou black, blackest night! Answer me if ye can, oh twinkling stars! Answer me, dark and dread silence! Shall I never see dear master again? Moto, where dost thou think Amer is now?" To which Moto answered: "Amer, the noblest of his tribe, the worthiest master that ever lived, the man with the kind heart and liberal hand, is not dead--he sleepeth." "Sleepeth! Ah, would it were so! then this great heaviness of sorrow within me would vanish. But what meanest thou, Moto?" "Hast thou forgotten already the words of our noble master, the son of Osman, how that he said to us often, a man cannot die; the body may remain on the ground to moulder, and rot, and become dust, but the life that was in him cannot die? Hast thou never heard him mention the word Soul--that unseen, unfelt thing, which is as light as air, yet is the most important part of a man? For a long time I laughed at Amer's words in my secret heart, but when I heard all the Arabs say the same thing, and the Nazarenes at Zanzibar say it also, I was obliged to believe, though I could not tell what the soul was like, or who had seen it, or if anybody had ever seen it. But now Amer's head lies low on the ground and a cruel wound has found his kind heart, I shall keep thinking of his words, and believe in them; and I believe truly that Amer's soul looks down upon us through this darkness from above." "I remember me now much the same thing," said Simba, "though my sorrow of heart had blinded my memory. Is it not a happy thought, Moto, that master Amer is not quite, quite dead, and that we shall see him again?" "Yes, very happy. Thou knowest, Simba, that he cannot be dead with us either, for we shall carry him in our memories like a valued treasure, and will never cease talking of him when we are together." "Ah! thou hast a good memory, Moto; but who, thinkest thou, is the happiest--master Amer, up above there, or young master Selim, a prisoner?" "Oh, Simba! while I was beginning to think myself happy, thou hast made my heart black with sorrow, by making me think of what that boy must suffer. If it were not for his future good I would never have left him. Amer is happiest in Paradise, but Selim, his son, living on earth, must be miserable." "It is just as I thought also," said Simba. "Poor child! Do you not remember how pretty he looked when he hinted to his father, that perhaps Simba would like his freedom? How his eyes, always beautiful, seemed filled with softness, and love, and gratitude to me? Ah, Selim, young master of everything that Simba has, it will go hard with some of these savage Watuta if they harm thee!" "They will not harm Selim or the Arab boys; they will keep them as curiosities, unless some of them have seen Arabs before going about to buy slaves, in which case I pity them all," said Moto. "Moto," shouted Simba, raising himself up, "art thou revenging thyself on me for making thee unhappy with the mention of him? Speak. Selim a slave! That petted, tender Arab boy a slave! Answer me, Moto." "It is as I tell thee; if any of the Watuta understand, as we do, what the word Arab is, all the Arab boys will be made slaves, and be beaten like dogs," answered Moto. "We are not obeying master Amer by running away from the camp of the Watuta. He told us to save his son Selim. I am going back;" and Simba snatched his spears and gun. "Fool!" said Moto. "We cannot save him from the Watuta by going into their camp. We can only do it by finishing as we have begun. We must go to Katalambula's village and see Kalulu. He only can save Selim and ourselves." "Well, I believe thou art right," said Simba. "Let us go to sleep, and at dawn let us be off to see this Kalulu." Saying which, he lay down between the fires, but sleep did not visit his eyes for some time afterwards. For fifteen days they marched long and far towards the south-west without any incident worthy of notice. Now and then they left the forest occasionally, to follow a road leading to some village and obtain information as to the whereabouts of the village of Katalambula of those people whom they might meet, with little danger to themselves. On the sixteenth day of their night they came to a large plain, extremely populous and rich. The dun-coloured tops of huts arose above the tall corn and millet everywhere. At midday they came to a deep river flowing north-west, which the people called Liemba. On the opposite side of the river they were also told was Katalambula's village. They were rowed across, for which Simba paid the canoe-man with a couple of arrows, having no other means of paying him. Then, following the right bank of the river for a few minutes, by fields of splendid corn, they came in sight of the village. It was substantially built; and was constructed in the same manner as the Kwikuru of Olimali, except that the king's quarters were flat-roofed tembes, surrounding a square of large dimensions, where the king kept his cattle and goats, and two or three donkeys, which were preserved more as curiosities than for any use that were made of them, and where he himself lived with his numerous family of women; for, strange to say, Katalambula, with all his wives, had never been able to obtain a son. The principal gate was, as usual, decorated with the only trophies savages respect or regard, viz., glistening white skulls of their enemies. When Simba and Moto arrived near the gate, the former's gigantic height of body and breadth of shoulders soon attracted attention, and drew crowds towards him of curious gazers. "Health unto you," was his greeting to them. "And unto you, strangers!" they replied. "Whence come you?" they then asked. "We are travellers," said Moto, "who have heard of King Katalambula, and have desired much to see Ututa's king." This was said in good Kirori, which, excepting a few words, is the same as Kituta. "Your words are well, strangers. You are Warori?" a chief, who now made his presence known, asked them. "Though your garb is different, and the punctures on the cheek and forehead are wanting." "I am a Mrori," answered Moto, "but my companion is not; he is a stranger from a far land." "Then do the Warori carry guns nowadays? And how is it that you wear such fine clothes?" he asked, regarding them suspiciously. "We were successful in hunting, and shot an elephant, whose teeth we sold for cloth and two guns." "And where did you meet elephants?" "On the frontier, near Urori." "And where did you meet the Arabs?" "In Ututa, two days from Urori." "Did you ask them where they were going?" "They were going to Uwemba." "Perhaps you can tell us where they came from?" "From Ubena." "Strangers," said the chief, "you are liars. No Arabs have been in this country for a long, long time. You are our prisoners, and must come before the King in our company;" and, as he spoke, the men that had gathered near rushed at them and disarmed them. In a short time they found themselves within the inner square; and under a large sycamore in the centre was seated, on a dried mud platform, raised two feet above the ground, and which ran around the tree like a circular sofa, covered with kid and goatskins, and over these skins of wild beasts, an old white-haired man, whom, by the deference paid to him, the prisoners knew was King Katalambula. The King had on his head a band of snowy white cloth, and his dress was a long broad robe of crimson blanket cloth. He was a kindly-looking old man, and he was evidently at the time being much amused with something that a tall young lad of sixteen, or thereabouts, was saying; but as the group of warriors guarding Simba and Moto entered the square, the old man looked up curiously, and when they drew nearer he demanded to know what the matter was. "My sultan, my lord," said the principal man to whom we were first introduced at the gate, "these men are suspicious characters. To every question I asked them they replied with a he; wherefore we brought them to you to judge." "Speak, strangers, the truth. Who and what are ye?" The quick eye of Moto had seen the young lad standing by Katalambula when he entered, and he suspected that he was the object of his search, the young friend of bygone years. "Great king," said Moto, "I did lie; but to you I will give the truth. I am a Mrori, who was taken when a child by the Arabs of Zanzibar. Years after that time, when I was a man, I accompanied an Arab chief, called Kisesa, to Unyanyembe; but soon after arriving, he declared war against the Warori, and--" "Kisesa!" said the young lad, advancing towards him with the stride of a young lion. "War against the Warori!" he added again, with an angry glitter in his eyes. "Yes, young chief," said Moto, humbly; "and I accompanied Kisesa to this war. After a long march we came before a Tillage near Ututa, governed by--" "By whom?" asked the young chief. "Tell me his name--quick, dog!" "Mostana," said Moto, deliberately. "Mostana!" shrieked the boy, and the word was echoed in a tone of surprise by all. "Yes, Mostana was his name," said Moto, unheeding the menacing looks or the angry murmurs which arose from all sides, but hurrying on with his story. "We took the village after a short time, though Mostana's men fought well, and numbers of our people were killed. Mostana's men were nearly all killed, and those who were left were made slaves, according to the custom of the Arabs." "Yes, that is true," said Katalambula. "Those cruel people make clean work of it when they fight, but I--" "Were they all made prisoners?" asked the boy chief, in a curious tone. "All, except one, and--" "And his name was--?" "Kalulu!" replied Moto, in a clear tone. Again rose a murmur of astonishment from all sides, but, apparently heedless that he had said anything very strange, Moto continued: "Yes, Kalulu, the son of Mostana, was standing by his father's side, when Kisesa, observing him, said he would give fifty pieces of cloth to whoever would take him alive. On hearing that, my soul felt a feeling of pity for him, as you must remember I was a Mrori; and, though I liked the Arabs, I could not kill my own people at their bidding, nor did I like to see such a brave boy as Mostana's son in danger of being made a slave by Kisesa. So, on hearing the offer made by Kisesa, I snatched up a shield and rushed forward to whisper to him to follow me, but the boy thought probably that I was about to kill him, as he put a spear clean through my shield and pinned my arm to it." A loud cry of admiration greeted this, while the boy already advanced nearer to Moto and regarded him affectionately; but Moto heeded nothing of this, but continued: "Seeing me still advance, the boy sprang back just as his father fell dead by a bullet from some gun behind me. I hastened after the boy, saw him look cautiously around, and spring over the palisade; but I was right behind him; and when he was a little distance off in the forest I chased him at my best speed, and soon came up to him. I explained to him who I was, and why I chased him, and told him I was his friend; upon which he told me that he was going to his uncle, a great king in Ututa, and that if ever we met again he would be my friend." As Moto finished this part of his story, the boy chief sprang forward and embraced Moto, saying: "Dost thou not know me? I am Kalulu! And thou art my friend Moto! I shall keep my promise, and the King must thank thee," said Kalulu, as he drew Moto forward towards Katalambula. As they heard these words from Kalulu, the chiefs and elders clapped their hands, and saluted Moto, while the King took hold of Moto's right hand and said: "Kalulu has told me the story which related how the Kirori slave would not take him when he might have done so; and though I never expected to see the man, I promised him that if any of my people met him and they should bring him to me, I should be his friend; that he should have one of my daughters for wife, and that I would bestow on him anything else he asked, for Kalulu is as dear to me as though he were my son. Speak, Moto, add tell me what I can do for thee." Then Moto, after a seat had been given to him, repeated briefly the story which we have already given to the readers, while murmurs of approbation at the wonderful good fortune of Ferodia rose from every side; then, when these had subsided, Moto said: "Oh, Kalulu, if what I have done for thee deserves kindness at thy hands, and if thou wert sincere when thou didst promise to be my friend, speak to the great King of the Watuta for me, and let him give my young master Selim, the Arab slave, as well as the three other slaves their freedom, and let them depart to their own land, and to the friends who will mourn for them." "Kalulu has already given his promise to thee, Moto. Kalulu is the friend of thy friends, and the enemy of thy enemies. Katalambula, the King, hears my words, and will do this kindness for thee for what thou hast done for me. Speak, great King," said Kalulu, advancing to him as he spoke. "Ah, Kalulu!" said the King Katalambula, "thou knowest not what thou askest, but I will do for thee what may be done. I can intercede with Ferodia for them, but I may not command him. Those Arab youths are the slaves of Ferodia; but if he is willing to exchange for them, I will give him two female slaves for each of the Arab boy-slaves. Will that content thee, Kalulu?" "I will wait until he comes here. I will then give thee my answer. But I think thou givest way too much to Ferodia in all things; he likes me not too well, because I stand between him and thy favour. If I were king of the Watuta, I should give Ferodia a lesson." "Tush, boy! be not too hasty with thy tongue. Ferodia is chief in his own right of a large tract of country. Dost thou wish me to take that from him which he has won by his spear and his bow?" asked Katalambula, slightly frowning. "He has not won by himself, with his sword and his spear, the battle against the Arabs. Fight hundred of the ten hundred warriors he has with him are thine, taken from thy country. Wilt thou that he shall choose for himself what he shall please to reserve, or wilt thou choose what he shall have and what thou wilt keep?" "Boy, boy, Ferodia is the chief warrior of the Watuta; he knows every art of war. He has never been beaten in the battle, either by the Wabena, or the Warungu, or the Wawemba, or any other; and though I have furnished him with men, he has always given me the greater and the most valuable share. Why wilt thou, who art but a boy, tell me these things concerning Ferodia? Be patient; I will ask him when he comes for these slaves for thee. But had it not been for the good deed this man did for thee, I should have ordered Ferodia to roast them all alive. Go thou, rather, and do thy duty towards these travellers; give them food and drink; and when they have rested, give each a house. Then let my daughter Lamoli be given to Moto for wife; and to this tall man give one of my female slaves for wife. Katalambula has spoken." While the King was speaking he was evidently getting more peevish, for he was old and soon tired; so Kalulu refrained from taxing his patience further, and beckoning to Moto and Simba, he walked away with his guests, leaving the King to be assisted by his chiefs to his quarters. When young Kalulu arrived at his own house, or rather room--for the entire square was surrounded but by one house--he again embraced Moto, and promised to leave no stone unturned until he had secured the freedom of the Arab boys. "But," said Kalulu, "it is well for them that you are my friend, as I do not think I can ever forgive the Arabs for murdering my father; and the King finds it very hard to do this thing for you, because in Mostana he lost a brother; and those of our tribe who have travelled far to hunt and kill elephants always come back with tales of their cruelty. I fear if Ferodia insists on their being slaves my uncle will not resist him; for, but for you, nothing would please him better than to torture them, and I should have liked it too." "Oh, Kalulu," said Moto, "you do not know Selim. He would never have treated a man badly, neither did his father. Simba and I were proud to be slaves of such a man as Amer bin Osman, and we were proud to call Selim our young master. Do you know that Selim is just your age, though you are taller than he is, and you are thinner than he was; though, poor boy! he will be thin enough when he comes here. But how you have grown, Kalulu! yet you cannot be more than sixteen years old!" "I do not know how old I am," Kalulu said, laughing. "I wae little when I saw you, or you would never have caught me. But I must do what the King has commanded me to do." And Kalulu darted out, spear in hand, his ostrich plumes trailing over his head far behind. Perhaps here would be a fit place to intercalate a description of the native youth whose name forms the title-page to this strange historical romance. Since ancient Greece displayed the forms of her noblest, finest youth in the Olympian games, and gave her Phidias and Praxiteles models to immortalise in marble, all civilised nations have borrowed their ideas of manly beauty from the statues left to us by Grecian and Roman sculptors, because civilised nations seldom can furnish us with models to compete with the super-excellent types designed by Greece. While American and English sculptors go to Rome to play with marble and plaster, and borrow for their patterns of an athlete or perfect human form, the vulgar, low, and uncouth lazzaroni of Rome, the centre of Africa teems with finer specimens of manhood than may be found in this world; such types as would even cause the marble forms of Phidias to blush, Kalulu was one of the best specimens which the ancient sculptors would have delighted to imitate in stone. His face or head may not, perhaps, have kindled any very great admiration, but the body, arms, and limbs were unmistakably magnificent in shape. He had not an ounce of flesh too much, yet without the tedious training which the modern athlete has to undergo, and following nothing but the wild instinct of his adopted tribe, he was a perfect youthful Apollo in form. The muscles of his arms stood out like balls, and the muscles of his legs were as firm as iron. There was not one of the tribe of his age who could send a spear so far, or draw the bow with so true and steady aim as he, or could shoot the arrow farther. None had such a springy, elastic movement as he, none was so swift of foot, none followed the chase with his ardour, none was so daring in the attack; yet with all that constant exercise, the following of which had given him these advantages, his form lost nothing of that surpassing grace of movement and manly beauty for which he was styled by me, just now, a perfect youthful Apollo. If I give him such praise for his elegance of form and free graceful carriage, I may not continue in the same strain in the description of his face. Kalulu was a negro, but his colour was not black by any means, it was a deep brown or bronze. His lips were thick, and, according to our ideas, such as would not lend beauty to his face; his nose was not flat, neither was it as correct in shape as we would wish it; but, with the exception of lips and nose, one could find no fault with his features. His eyes were remarkably large, brilliant, sparkling, and black as the blackest ink, while the whites of his eyes were not disfigured by the slightest tinge of unhealthy yellow, nor seamed with the red veins common to negroes of older growth. His ears were small and shapely, and, strange to say, the lobes were not as yet distorted out of all form with the pieces of wood or gourd-necks, which, unhappily, with the Watuta, are too common among their ear ornaments. His ears were simply decorated with two Sungomazzi beads, [these beads are as large as a pigeon's egg, and are either of coloured porcelain or coloured glass] one to each ear, each bead suspended by a piece of very fine brass wire. His hair, though woolly, hung below his shoulders in a thousand fine braids, adorned with scores of fine red, yellow, and white beads. His ornaments, besides those already mentioned, consisted of three snow-white ostrich plumes, fastened in a band which ran around his head, and which, besides holding the plumes, served to hold his hair; a braided necklace, ivory bands above each elbow, and ivory bracelets, and broad bead-worked anklets. While the author has been endeavouring to portray Kalulu, that the reader may become acquainted with his excellence, the youthful hero had hastened to bring Lamoli to her husband; and he now appeared on the threshold of the door with his cousin, who at once pleased Moto as much as the King expected she would. We will say this, however, in passing, that though she was not by any means the loveliest of her sex, she was neither ugly, toothless, nor old; nor was she young, pretty, or one calculated to charm our fastidious tastes. But Moto did not refuse her; on the contrary, he thought it a high honour to many the daughter of a king, and became lavish in his praise, with which Lamoli was not at all displeased. Having performed this marriage according to the customs of the Watuta, Kalulu remembered that he had still another marriage on his hand, and at once asked Simba what kind of a wife he fancied. Simba was not at all displeased with the idea of another wife, though he and Moto had each a wife at Zanzibar, who had borne them children; and he at once replied that Kalulu might choose for him. After an absence of only a few minutes, Kalulu returned with a young woman who might have drawn crowds in London and New York, as the "Great African Giantess." As he saw the gigantic couple together, Kalulu clapped his hands in high glee, and danced about them as if he were about to receive a magnificent gift, and laughed as he burst into a mock rhapsody. "Lo, Kalulu has seen strange things! he has seen two trees drawn together from a great distance! he has seen them walk together arm-in-arm!! Behold how the trees, the sycamore and the mtambu, the great baobab, and the mbiti, how they nod their heads, and are pleased!! For they rejoice that two great trees are married, and a forest of young trees will soon sprout up. As they move, the ground shakes and the huts reel. Verily this is a great day; both the ground and the huts have been guzzling pombe--they are drunk, rejoicing over the marriages Kalulu, the future King of the Watuta, has performed! "Lamoli, my sweet cousin, daughter of Katalambula--of Katalambula the great King--was sorrowing for a husband. She was thirsting, like a pool in the middle of the plain in a long summer. She, the flower of Katalambula's household, was sick for a husband. But the day came--ah, happy day! A man from afar--from the island in the sea--he came, he saw me, I knew him. He was my friend; and in him Katalambula--Katalambula the great King--found a husband for his daughter--a mate for Lamoli. "Ah, Lamoli! Lamoli! Lamoli! weep no more; but laugh until thy mouth reaches from ear to ear, and I, Kalulu, thy cousin, can see the joy welling from thy throat, like living water springing from a rock! Laugh, Lamoli, sweet Lamoli! so that the unmarried women of all Ututa may hear and envy thee; so they may rend their bosoms with rage, or crush themselves to death with the over-weight of their ornaments. Laugh, Lamoli, sweet Lamoli! until every foot of man and woman moves to the sound of thy happy laughter! And thou, tall woman of Ututa! do thou laugh and sing, until all the tall trees of Ututa will become jealous of thee! we then may have rain. And thou, Simba, tall man from afar, well named the Lion! roar for joy, and thou wilt hear the wild lions of the forest roar in concert with thee, and each will be roused to fury, roaring for their loving mates. But enough; be happy, and raise warriors for your tribes. Kalulu is not a singer; he is a young warrior, who is learning how to throw the spear and shoot with the bow. The singers are coming with drums to do you honour, for such are the King's commands." While Kalulu had been thus employing himself, a company of drummers, eight in number, two tumblers,--or, as we should call them, two mountebanks,--and fifty couples of young men and women had formed themselves in a circle; and as Kalulu ceased speaking, the Magic Doctor, or Mganga, as the natives called him, raised his voice and sang the marriage song, while he danced in an ecstatic manner as he sang. I should also say, before giving the song, that the smallest drums only accompanied his voice, while the great drums thundered together when the chorus was given by the dancers. The words were, as near as they can be translated: We sing the happy marriage song, We sound the drum, and beat the gong In honour of Lamoli! She is the daughter of a king, Yet she spent her days in weeping, Being left alone and sorrowing. Poor sorrowing Lamoli! _Chorus_. Oh, Lamoli! Poor Lamoli! Sorrowing Lamoli! A day has come, ah, happy day! That brought a stranger in the way Of sorrowing Lamoli! Long ago the stranger did a deed, A friendly deed, in time of need, Which won for him the lover's meed. Sweet Lamoli! _Chorus_. Oh, Lamoli! Sweet Lamoli! Charming Lamoli! This stranger sav'd young Kalulu From cruel bonds at Kwikuru. The good stranger! Kalulu swore to this brave man, As long as life-blood in him ran, To praise the name to every man Of this brave stranger! _Chorus_. Oh, stranger! Good stranger! Brave stranger! This man has come to Tuta Land, This man who sav'd with friendly hand Our young Kalulu! Shall we deny him our faint praise? Shall we refuse him wedlock lays? Shall we not wish him happiest days? Who sav'd Kalulu? _Chorus_. Oh, Kalulu! Young Kalulu! Brave Kalulu! Our great King heard the stranger's name, And nearer to him the stranger came, To Katalambula! He said, "I've known this story long, A Mtuta's memory is strong. I love the good and hate the wrong," Said Katalambula! _Chorus_. Oh, Katalambula! Good Katalambula! Great Katalambula! Give him house, give him home. You boy! Give him pombe and food. Give him joy! Give him Lamoli! Brave man! take the pride of our race; Take the dearest girl with the loveliest face. Live in the shade of our kingly mace With good Lamoli! _Chorus_. Oh, Lamoli! Good Lamoli! Sweet Lamoli! We sing the happy marriage song. We sound the drum and beat the gong For joy with Lamoli. Now a wife, no longer weeping, No more to spend her days in mourning, She will be for ever laughing, Happy Lamoli! _Chorus_. Oh, Lamoli! Charming Lamoli! Happy Lamoli! The music accompanying this song was slow and sweet, worthy of the great occasion on which it was given. During the chorus, the dancing became more lively, and each man and woman lifted the voice high, which created a grand and majestic volume of sound, while the drums were beaten with a terrific vigour. The festivities lasted all the day and night, until sunrise next morning; but during the night they were better attended, nearly a thousand souls joining in the song and chorus. Kalulu and many others were hoarse from over-exertion of voice, when they retired next morning to rest. Having brought Simba and Moto to their temporary home and through their difficulties, let us now withdraw from this scene for a while, and see how it fares with the Arab boy-slaves and Ferodia's caravan. CHAPTER SIX. SUFFERINGS OF SELIM, ABDULLAH, AND MUSSOUD--IN THE SLAVE-GANG--ISA SEIZED WITH SMALL-POX--ISA LEFT BEHIND TO DIE--SELIM'S PRAYER--SELIM PROPOSES TO ESCAPE--SELIM'S PREPARATION--SELIM'S ESCAPE--THE ROAR OF THE KING OF THE FOREST--SELIM SHOOTS A LION--SELIM SHOOTS AN ANTELOPE--HE SUFFERS FROM HUNGER--HE FALLS FAINTING TO THE GROUND--SELIM'S DESPAIR-- HIS REFLECTIONS--HE GIVES HIMSELF UP TO DIE. Although the caravan started the day after the departure of Simba and Moto, it could not of course travel so fast as two fugitives; so that the journey, which only occupied a few days with our two friends, lasted nearly a month with Ferodia's caravan. Ferodia, the chief of the Watuta caravan, had besides four Arab slaves-- three of whom were perfectly white--nearly three hundred black slaves, who had been captured in the battle of Kwikuru. If the report was spread abroad that he possessed so many slaves, as would undoubtedly be the case, he would soon be visited by traders from Unyanyembe and from Kilwa, and perhaps, if he waited long enough, from Tette, on the Zambezi river; so it was for his advantage to travel slowly, not only that the rumour might have time to spread, but also to give the human cattle plenty of time to recover from their wounds. The marches were, therefore, commenced at six o'clock in the morning, and seldom lasted longer than noon, as the first part of the country through which he now travelled was extremely populous and rich, and each chief was friendly to him and his men; but after the tenth day he neared the debatable ground, consisting of extensive tracts of forest and jungle, lying between Urori and Ututa, and inhabited by no living being, except wild beasts. From the farthest westerly point of this debatable tract, there were three long marches, or say ninety miles, to Katalambula's country. Having explained so much, let us glean what may be interesting to the general reader of the incidents of this march relating to the slaves. Besides suffering intensely from the heat, Selim, Abdullah, and Mussoud suffered excessively from the loads which they were compelled to carry, and which chafed their tender shoulders frightfully. For the first three days they went entirely naked, as it must not be supposed that, because the Watuta were rich in clothes, they possessed one yard too much, or that they could have dispensed with a yard for the comfort of slaves. Slaves are cattle, are supposed too often to be able to live like cattle, and are therefore treated like cattle. So these three hundred slaves were chained--for chains, it must be confessed, were part of the plunder which the Watuta had found in the Arab camp--by twenties; an iron collar ran around the neck of each adult, while the boys, Selim, Abdullah, Mussoud, Isa, and the negro boys, among whom, it must be remembered, was our mischievous Niani, or the monkey, and others, were tied by ropes around the waist, about six feet apart, the tallest first. Of the adult slaves there were fifteen herds, or gangs of twenties, each gang being superintended by a sub-chief or a trustworthy warrior, and there was one gang of boys which were looked after by Tifum Byah. I have already said that the slaves were cattle. The word cattle must be understood by the reader in its most literal sense. Decency was therefore out of the question. If one needed to wash his face in camp, the whole gang, accompanied by the chief, were obliged to march out for the convenience of this one. If from any cause a man required to fall out of the line, there was a halt and a constant worrying of the unfortunate wretch until the caravan had been overtaken. If one needed a drop of water all had to stop. In all gangs and crews of slaves there is always one calling for something or requiring something more than his fellows; and this to the others is a source of vexation, because the chief who has charge is soon irritated if such a proceeding is carried too far, and he is not slow to avail himself of the rod to quicken the footsteps of the lagging gang. In the boy's gang, Isa was one of those who continually required to halt, and all the boys suffered in consequence, especially Selim, whose file-leader was the lagging and unfortunate lea. Niani saw through the trick of lea in a very short time, and no doubt he would have remained silent about it, had he not seen that his young master Selim suffered through it. For two or three days of the march Niani held his peace, but when Selim received a more than usually severe beating from Tifum Byah, Niani exploded, and told the chief, to his surprise, that he was whipping the wrong boy, that it was Isa who was the cause of the stoppage; whereupon Isa received a severe punishment with the ever-ready kurbash (hippopotamus-hide whip). While Selim had been whipped Isa had never expressed any great sympathy with him, but when he was punished himself his cries and groans were dreadfully long and loud, and in the camp he was constantly bewailing his hard lot, and always threatening that supple-minded and tough-bodied little negro Niani for his expose of him. On the evening of the fifth day after their arrival at camp, Niani, who knew how to like and how to hate, said aloud to Selim, as soon as he had an opportunity, that he would much prefer if Selim took his waist-cloth. Selim refused it upon the ground that he would have none left for himself. "Oh, but, Master Selim," said Niani, "I am but a little nigger; no one will mind me. I wanted to give it to you before, but I did not like to offer my cloth to you, because it is dirty." "Anything is better than nothing. I will take it with thanks, since you say you don't want it; but won't you keep a little of it for yourself?" "Not an inch," said Niani, resolutely. "I don't want a cloth anyhow-- never did want it; besides that is the cloth you gave me that night I tripped Isa, and cruel Isa was going to put me on the fire." Selim then rose up to put this filthy piece of torn cotton cloth around his waist; but as he was about to put it on, he saw his friends Abdullah and Mussoud looking wistfully up; and their colour, as well as his own, made them look all too nude for a country where all skins were black. Without saying a word he measured the cloth in three equal pieces, and tore it into three equal strips, one of which he presented to Abdullah, another to Mussoud, and the other he reserved for himself. The two boys rose up, blushing gratefully, and Abdullah said to Selim: "Thy heart is as soft as fine gold. The cloth is not six inches wide, but I feel more grateful to thee than ever I did when I received fine daoles (rich gold-worked cloth) at the hand of my father, Mohammed, whom may God preserve! A pure heart like thine will not long go unrewarded at the hand of Allah." "Thou mightest have given me a piece," said Isa to Selim, in a complaining tone. "How can you talk so, Master Isa?" asked Niani. "Your skin is as black as mine; sure, you look as though you were clothed already. You should be happy in having a black skin, instead of wanting a piece out of nothing." "A truce to your insolence, Niani, or I will come and break every bone in your body," said Isa, angrily. "You had better not, Isa, because I am a slave of Ferodia, the Mtuta chief; and if you kill me, Ferodia will kill you," answered Niani. "Well, then, hold your tongue, and don't torment me. I am sick of life already, and sick in mind and body," said Isa. "Dost thou suffer much, lea?" asked Selim. "Indeed I do. My head aches as if it would split, and all down my back run sharp pains. They are not the pains which that savage dog Tifum made, but something else. I think there is something serious the matter with me," moaned poor suffering Isa. "I hope not," said Selim. "Cheer up, lea, my friend; we have only to reach Katalambula to have rest. This march cannot last for ever." "I shall never reach the country of the accursed Watuta," said Isa. "My illness is too serious." "Why, what can the matter be with thee, my friend?" "Don't start, Selim, and don't curse me when I tell you that I have the _jederi_ (the small-pox)." "The small-pox! What makes thee think that?" Selim asked. "I have seen it often enough, and have seen the men die on the road from it, and I fear I shall die too," said Isa, mournfully. The next morning Isa was very much worse, and it was obvious to every one that the boy had it very badly, but he was not permitted to halt or to be carried. Slaves are not carried: there are no means of carrying sick slaves in Africa, and so he was driven along with the rest; but about ten o'clock, after four hours' march, as they were approaching a forest, the sick lad became delirious, and he began to reel like a drunken man, and after a short time the load fell from his head, and as Tifum came up raging furiously at this weakness, Isa fell across his bale with his eyes half protruding from their sockets, and his tongue hanging out. But Tifum had no sense of kindness in his heart; so he began to flog the unfortunate wretch with all the force that an unnatural cruelty alone could have impelled, until Selim, unable longer to bear the disgusting sight, hurled the load he carried on his head full at the head of the savage ruffian, and while he was down he snatched the whip from his hand, and began to belabour him with all his might until he was overthrown himself on the ground by the infuriated Tifum, and belaboured in his turn until Tifum was obliged to desist lest he might kill him. Gutting the rope which joined the prostrate bodies of the boys, the one insensible from violence, the other from a deadly sickness, he called for a gourdful of water, and pouring it on Selim's head; soon restored him to consciousness. Then the refined cruelty of the slave-traders, and the utter abomination of the inhuman traffic, began to be exhibited. Trembling with rage and merciless hate, he called for the long, heavy, wooden yoke, which, furnished with two prongs a little apart from each other, is used for the most refractory slaves. When green, this yoke-tree weighs about thirty pounds, but dry it generally weighs about twenty pounds. One of these tree-yokes had been prepared but a few days before, so that it could not be much reduced in weight from what it weighed originally. This was the clumsy, heavy instrument of torture with which Tifum designed to encumber Selim's body. After the neck of the half-unconscious lad was placed between the prongs, the ends of the prongs were drawn together by means of a strong cord, so that the head remained firmly imprisoned, while the huge unwieldly tree of the yoke sloped behind him about ten feet off from his shoulders. In order to avoid employing a guard to carry the tree, the end was lifted up and tied to Abdullah's shoulders and arm. When things had thus been prepared for the continuance of the march Tifum proceeded to the dying Isa, and seeing it was hopeless to expect further work from him, as the look of death was already on his face, the savage fiend bestowed a kick on the body, and swishing his kurbash warningly, gave the hint to Selim, who was now the file-leader, to proceed. In a short time the caravan was out of sight, while the unfortunate Isa was left in the middle of the road to gasp his last, unseen, unwept, and unhonoured. On the twentieth day of the march it was found that little Mussoud was attacked with the small-pox. Numbers of the slaves had already perished from this fell disease; for as fast as they fell from the ranks and could not rise again, despite repeated applications of the staff of a spear, or a rod, or a kurbash, they were left to die the miserable death of deserted sick where they fell, and not one thought was ever directed to them again. Thus when Mussoud became sick, the alarm of his brother Abdullah and his friend Selim was extreme. They requested permission to share the burden of his load by having it tied to the yoke-tree with which Selim's neck was still furnished, but the slight request was refused, and when the latter's eyes again flashed a dangerous light, Tifum, who saw that he had a stubborn soul to deal with, replied with another dose of vigorous lashing on the boy's shoulders until they were one mass of weals and bruises. Selim uttered not a word nor moan; he was getting to be past all feeling of bodily pain, though his heart was keenly alive and sensitive. While plodding along in this manner under the burning sun, no sound breaking the soft shuffling sound of the tramp of naked feet of the slaves, except a low moan now and then from poor little Mussoud, and Tifum had retired to vent his spite upon those in the rear, it struck him as a sudden idea that he was being punished more cruelly than the others because, despite the fine religious education he had received, he had of late, since he had been in bondage, forgotten the God of his fathers, whom Amer had counselled him so often never to forget. His conscience was not a whit more hardened; the reason of this neglect was the delicacy he felt in approaching his God with unwashed hands and feet; but now he determined to avail himself of the first opportunity of a halt, and prepare himself for prayer. After repeated prayers from the sick boy Mussoud to Tifum to give him one little halt to rest, it was at last granted; more, however, to give Tifum an opportunity to light his pipe than for the sake of the sick boy. No sooner had Tifum turned his back, than Selim bent down and began to scrape together the dry, white, sandy dust from the road, and to rub his feet, and hands, and face, and body with it, as if he were washing himself; then turning his face to the north-east, in the direction of Mecca, he began his prayer in a whisper: "Oh, Thou who art the light of heaven and earth, whom all creatures praise, unto whom all things belongeth, thou bounteous, wise, and compassionate God! be gracious and merciful to one of the true believers, who now standeth before Thy footstool. "Thou art great, Thou art holy, Thou art almighty, Oh God! and unto those who invoke Thee Thou hast promised, through Thy prophet Mohammed, blessed be his name! to be attentive and to lend assistance. "Thou all-knowing and gracious God! avert from me the torments of Jehenna, which I suffer at the hands of these infidel savages. "The unbelievers have laid cruel hands upon me, a true believer, and a son of a true believer. Lo! they have bound me like unto a sheep about to be slaughtered; they have laid their whips upon me, the cruel thongs have cut into my bones, and with their sharp spears have they gashed me. "Thou Powerful and Self-sufficient God! Thou hast promised to protect the fatherless and the orphan, and to be solicitous for him, and to punish those who oppress him. "Thou compassionate and loving God! let the orphan's cries take the form of prayers, and suffer them to ascend unto Thee before Thy footstool, and do Thou bow down Thine head, and let them penetrate Thine ear. "Thou one, only, and eternal God! hearken compassionately onto my prayers, and rescue me from the unbelievers. "Thou Lord of men, King of men, and God of men! save me from mine enemies, by the promise Thou hast given unto all true believers through Thy holy apostle Mohammed, and be Thy heart softened toward the orphan, and hear his prayers." When Selim had finished this urgent, sincere appeal to his God, he prostrated himself to the earth, and then rose refreshed in body and spirit. Turning to Abdullah, who had been attending to his brother, he said: "Abdullah, my friend, I feel refreshed and strong. I have a bright idea in my head." "I have seen you pray, Selim, and have wished that I could pray, too; but my heart is too bitter for prayer. I feel as if I could curse all men, and myself, and die. Poor Mussoud's days are numbered, I fear: and if he dies, I do not care what becomes of me." "But, my dear friend, the Kuran says: `When thou art in distress pray to thy God and He will hear thee; His ear is open to the oppressed.'" "I know it, Selim, but I cannot pray now. I fear I should curse God for permitting his faithful to be treated as we have been. Listen to the moans of my brother, and think of his being left to die all alone in the road, because, if he cannot march, they will not let me remain with him! But what is thy bright idea, Selim?" "My idea is to run away to-night, and go to the depths of this forest. Far better to die there than lead this life so wretched. If one of these people can trust himself in the forest, why may I not do so? They have not been able to kill me with all the weight of their cruelties. The forest were far kinder than these inhuman Watuta." "And my brother, what of him?" "We will take him with us; and when we are alone, safe from our pursuers, we will be able to nurse him. We will build ourselves a strong little hut near some nice stream, where we shall be safe and quiet; and while you are watching your sick brother, I will take my spear and go out to gather wild fruit and honey. But, hush! Here comes Tifum. Help Mussoud to his feet, and let him hold up until to-night." Just then the stern signal to march was given, and the boys turned industriously and submissively to their bales; and Mussoud feeling relieved by the rest, the caravan set out at its usual pace. About noon they halted in the forest, and, knowing that no danger from men was to be feared in the forest, the Watuta were heedless of the usual boma or brush fence around the camp. The boy-gang being tied together, were of course inseparable, and Abdullah, in his usual place, sat next to Selim, as they munched their roasted Indian corn or their half-boiled holcus grains. Mussoud was accustomed to sit next to Selim, but owing to his illness he was placed outside the camp, as all the Watuta knew this disease was contagious, and what danger lay to the whole unvaccinated camp by the dread presence of the small-pox. At night they were still together, Selim and Abdullah. Inside the circle of the camp were men seated in circles near the fire, discussing various topics. Outside the camp, in the deep, deep night was perfect silence; not a sound broke upon the ear, save now and then the uneasy growl of the hyena. "Well, Abdullah," said Selim, "the night has come, and thou must decide what thou wilt do." "Dear Selim, I cannot go and leave my brother. Poor Mussoud will not live till to-morrow morning. I am afraid he is very ill to-night. His head was so hot, and he did not seem to know me. If thou goest away I shall be alone of us all. Poor Isa is dead already; Mussoud is dying; and thou wilt be gone; and I shall be alone." "Well, Abdullah, if thou dost not go, I shall. I am tired of this life. I wish to die. I am not afraid of death, but it shall never be said that Selim, the son of Amer, died like an ass in the road, to be spurned by the foot of that dog Tifum, like poor Isa was. If I am to die, let me die like an Arab, with none but my God to pity my wretchedness, with none but the birds of the air around my bed. Do me this favour, Abdullah, friend of my heart. If Mussoud still lives in the morning, tell him Selim is gone, and give him one kiss for me; and before thou goest to sleep thou must give me one, for when thou wakest up in the morning, Selim, the son of Amer, will be gone. The lashing of this clumsy yoke around my neck is already loose; it only requires a second to be free." "I thank thee, Selim, for this thought of my brother. I wish thee God's peace and blessing. If I live after this hard march, I shall dream and ever think of thee, and shall sometimes whisper thy name in my prayers, that the angels may carry it to thy ear, and that some memory of Abdullah, thy friend, may be preserved in thy heart. Thou art a true Arab, son of Amer, a true friend; thy soul is a jewel, brighter and purer than the diamond. On the road to thy home look up at night to those seven stars which thou seest together, and say to thyself, `Abdullah thinks of me. Poor Abdullah!' May the holy Mohammed take thee to thy mother, and when thou art welcomed back to thy friends, think of my mother, and bear to her the kindly remembrance of her son. Selim, dear friend, I am about to compel myself to sleep, that I may be ready for my morrow's work. See! I kiss thee with the kiss of lasting friendship, and, since thou goest, be strong with Abdullah's faith that Allah will save thee!" They then both lay down, and, after a few uneasy tossings, Abdullah fell asleep, while Selim also lay down to plan out his march. Suddenly he remembered the parting words of Simba and Moto, and wondered to himself how he had not thought of them before, as they would have enabled him to bear up with a little more patience and fortitude the trials he had undergone. But they came not too late; he felt that with such friends as those he was not alone in the world, and he resolved on leaving the camp to strike south, then wait a day in the woods, and afterwards strike off through the forest until he came near to a village in Ututa, and then lie in wait for some one who would direct him to Katalambula. A cruel thought came across his mind once, to stab Tifum with his own spear, but he instantly rejected it as unworthy of an Arab and the son of Amer bin Osman. The hours passed by, but not wearily, as Selim's thoughts had been busy. All slept soundly, and the fires also seemed to have fallen into drowsiness, for nothing but dull red embers marked the places where the fires stood. He muttered a short prayer to God for courage and strength, and the lashings of the cruel yoke fell apart, and he drew his head through, free. Free! not yet. He stood up silently, walked straight to a tree deliberately but noiselessly, chose a couple of spears, a gun, a powder horn, and a cartouche box, and began to withdraw as stealthily as he had advanced. It seemed an age to him, the time before he began to congratulate himself that he was safe; for so precious were the articles in his possession, and so rich seemed the prospect of freedom. A few long strides brought him from tree to tree, and the more he counted of these trees the more certain was he of safety. Tree after tree was passed, their tall thick columns--taller and thicker by night-- formed a denser rampart between him and his enemies, an impenetrable protection against pursuit. Finally, he was free! Free he felt, freely he walked, freely he thought, and the new idea, as it settled in his mind, seemed to fill him to strangling, it had such power of expansion; the lungs were more inflated, the stride became firmer, the head assumed a prouder air, and the back of him straightened rigid! He was impelled forward, fatigue seemed to fly from him, an eager urgency of movement seemed to have come upon him; he was walking against time for freedom! An endless number of dark solemn trees were passed, countless numbers of acres in front, behind, and around him, of this tree-covered upland, and still it remained night. To darkness there seemed no end, nor did he want it to have end; he wished it would ever remain night and his enemies ever sleep. But though the night was long, and friendlily sheltered him with its kind mantle of impenetrability, through which a fugitive was not visible, it had an end, for all things have an end; but Selim and the Watuta camp were far apart! Daylight--a dull grey mantle seemingly, which night had put on for a fickle change--appeared, but greyer and greyer it came through the foliage above; it then came pale, and then a steely blue. A streak of silver light shot athwart his path; the foliage was a bright green, and the leaves moved responsively, gently sighing to the morning wind! How cool, how fresh it was! How newly-born seemed the world, while the hum of busy insect life told him there were other creatures, after their rest, rejoicing in the new light of day! It became full day, for the sun, a round globe of living fire, or like a fiery balloon, surged upward light and airily. But oh! with what different feelings he gazed upon it now. Yesterday it was hateful with its dry heat and blister, and its thirst-begetting warmth; to-day it was like a huge lamp hoisted up to the sky to light the dim and lengthy aisles of the forest. There was no heat nor thirst in its appearance, nothing but strengthful vigour and cheery light! At noon, Selim came to a quiet pool in the forest; the lotus flowers rose like yellow cups above its surface, while the leaves lay languidly flat. All around the rim the pool was garnished with these water flowers of Africa; and, so decked, it looked like a great shallow dish adorned with a pictured border! How delicious did the water taste! How cool and tranquil the spot! What deep silence pervaded the forest at noon! How soothing to the fugitive soul! A little distance off he espied a large baobab, which had a hole in its body. Walking to it and looking in, he saw the hole led to a large hollow in the tree, as large as a small chamber. He crept in, for it was empty, and there he laid down to rest, and finally he slept. He had escaped, and was safe! It was night when he awoke; he must have slept eight or ten hours; there were no means of knowing how many. It was evidently a hard task to wake up, for after the first movement indicating life, he lay still, and tried to compel the sodden brain to recover its duty, and the eyes to aid it by piercing that thick darkness of the natural chamber in which he found himself. Bit by bit, the senses resumed the old order of things. Mind stirred up, and gave its master to know that he had run away from a most cruel slavery. Ah! yes! and, the keyword touched, all became clear. "The Watuta!--that torturing yoke-tree, and the sleepless nights it caused me! my galled shoulders, my wealed back, my racking head! that monster Tifum! that fierce man-animal whom pity never touched! that pariah dog-face, repulsive in its animal malignity! those thick lips which uttered such horrible blasphemy! that always-ready whip! Who can forget him? May the foul mother who bore him, and her fouler son, perish like one of those whose fate will be Al Hotamah! "All is clear to my mind now. I am free! Arise, my soul, for further freedom; the dark night is kinder than day. The wilderness will take more pity on me than man. Shake thyself, son of Amer, thy mother is patiently waiting for thee; thy kinsmen at Zanzibar still look for thee. Courage, my heart, there is nothing to fear." He rose to his feet and looked out. "Is that a beast, or is it my timid fancy which creates such a shape? Hush, that was a step! a slow, stealthy step of padded feet; no man alone in the wilds would walk on all fours. Hush, but a moment. Ah! what is it?" For just then an unearthly laugh--terrible in its satiric wildness of tone--rang through the forest. It was startling for a moment, because it was unexpected, and fearful, because it seemed to challenge all the denizens of the wilds. "What beast can it be? "Ah! I remember now. Moto has told me of it. It is only a hyaena, and the hungry fellow has scented a prey. Not yet, my friend, can I be thine. Selim is safe from thy jaws. He must see Zanzibar first, before any of thy species can eat him. Oh God!--" The satiric laugh of the hyaena was succeeded now by a roar which echoed through the forest, and another and another succeeded it, which almost deafened the lad with its volume and power. No animal but the dread king of the forest could have emitted such sounds, and there is nothing more startling than the first sudden bellowing outburst of his lungs--it is so deep, so protracted; but, as if he expends the concentrated power of his lungs in the first roar, the others which succeed it come out in short, gasping, rasping sounds, which seem to chase one another as they peal through the forest in quick succession. Though the first sudden outburst is startling, even appalling, when unexpected, a certain feeling of admiration quickly succeeds the first fear, at the volume and the force of it, and at the echoes which it wakes up. "It is a lion!" said Selim to himself when he had regained his bewildered senses; "the king of beasts. I have often desired to see thee and to hear thee, but I may not venture too near thee, as I fear thy claws and thy cavernous mouth. Halt where thou art until dawn, my friend, and I will look at thee well, but just now I will remain here. Ah, that is right; thou comest nearer, but I have a gun, and there is a bullet in it, O lion, so thou hadst better keep a respectful distance. The window through which I look at thee is too small for thee to enter; besides, king of beasts, I need no companion like thee in this small chamber with me. How my bones would crack under thy strong jaws, and what a delicious morsel thou wouldst deem me. The _hulwah_ of Muscat [a species, of sweets made in Muscat, Arabia] were as nothing to it; the honey of thy native wilds were bitter compared with my flesh, and bones, and warm blood. Nay, I beseech thee keep thy distance, O lion. If thou art hungry catch that laughing devil of a hyaena; but me, poor me, thou wilt surely not harm me!" But the lion had advanced nearer to the tree; he had also scented a prey, and while he knew that the prey was contained within the tree, he was doubtful whether he could obtain the wherewithal to satisfy his hunger, and this was why he advanced roaring. Arriving at the foot of the tree he halted, and stood looking up at the tempting morsel. As if he heard and understood the low-spoken words which the Arab youth addressed to him, he uttered another terrific roar. This caused Selim to draw in instinctively and seize his gun, but at the same instant the lion's form came bounding in at the hole through which Selim had entered, where he clung tenaciously with his claws, and endeavoured to drag himself in. Then Selim, with his heart in his mouth at the dreadful presence, put the muzzle of the gun against the lion's head and fired, and the monster fell dead outside. Selim, finding it dangerous to leave his friendly shelter, resolved to remain where he was until morning, and after he had listened, a long time at the aperture of the tree, and became satisfied that the lion was dead, he laid down again on the floor of his natural chamber, and, happily for one in his situation, fell asleep once more. About two hours after dawn he awoke, and immediately going to the window, he looked down, and when he saw the dead lion stretched stiff at the foot of the tree, he said to himself: "He would have it; he would not listen to me. Like Tifum he revelled in his strength, and was conscious of his might, and, like him, he wished to rend and tear me, but I have a gun, and I would that Tifum came after me, so that I could give him the same answer I gave this lion." As he spoke, he placed his spears outside, then his: gun, then went out himself, and, taking his weapons up, he stood by the body of the lion. The following thoughts, though unexpressed, ran through his mind: "Behold! how strong this lion was early last night--how proud his pace as he roamed through the silent forest looking for his prey! All the animals ran from before him, and left him lone in his proud strength. As if they knew his power, the echoes submissively sent his voice pealing through the long colonnades of the forest, like the heralds trumpeting the approach of a king. His eyes pierced the darkness and searched the night, his nostrils scented prey and blood, and he came and stood before me, the relentless tyrant of the wilderness! His great, flaming eyes glowed red with rage, his nostrils dilated wide as he thought of his hunger and the prospective feast; he pawed the ground and whirled his tail in fury, and tossing his mane back impatiently, he sprang at me and met his death. "Now, how weak! An unarmed infant might play with his mane and pull at his great teeth. There lies no more danger in him; and as he is, so may all my enemies be! Farewell, thou lion! I would have preferred thou were not so unclean. My hunger is now sharp, and woe befall the hoofed animal I meet, but thee I may not eat." Then Selim, shouldering his gun and spears, having observed the sun, and found out the direction he intended to go, strode on, looking keenly to the right and left for any game that might promise him relief from the gnawing pangs of hunger he began to feel. He had been now thirty-six hours without food, for he had disdained to steal the rations of his comrades, as he might have done, knowing from experience that the slave who lost his rations or consumed them before the next distribution of food was very apt to suffer, as none of his fellows, having nothing too much for himself, could find charity enough in his own destitution to share with him. Thirty-six hours is a long period for a growing boy to be without food, and Selim began to feel it. There were none of those wild fruit-trees, so common in Ukonongo, and Kawendi, and Usowa, the mbembu, the singwe (the wild wood-peach and plum); no wild grape nor nux vomica fruit, as in the south-eastern forests of Urori. The long, extensive plain south of the Cow River seems to have made two zones, different from each other, of Southern Unyamwezi and South-western Urori. The trees in this forest were more adapted for building purposes; but had Selim understood the ways of wild life in the forest, had he been anything but the tenderly-nurtured and pampered youth from Zanzibar, even here he might have found plenty of eatable roots. There was no lack of these about him; the roots of those long, slender, primate-leafed plants, on which he trod, he would have found to be as nutritious as the yams of Zanzibar. But the boy was innocent of this knowledge, and so he kept on, seldom looking on the ground, except when he began to feel disheartened. As it was approaching sunset, however, he espied a small antelope crouching behind the bushes about fifty yards from him. Lifting his gun, with a prayer for success, he fired, and the animal, after making two or three convulsive leaps, fell wounded on its side. Hurrying up, he caught it as it was about to rise to its feet, and using one of his spears as a knife, looked towards the north-east, in the direction of Mecca, and uttering his fervent "Bismillah"--(in the name of God!) the pious youth cut its throat. Then, proceeding with the work of preparing the meat, he cut off the head, skinned the animal, and extracted the inward parts, which he left for the hyaenas, while the eatable portions he conveyed to the fork of a great tree, where he intended to rest that night. Hastily collecting some dry leaves, twigs, and sticks, he conveyed these also to the fork of the tree, and with the aid of some powder, he succeeded, after much patient work, in making a fire, over which he placed whole pieces of the antelope to roast, or rather to warm, for his ravenous hunger would not permit him to wait for the roast. Had Selim understood the art of travelling, he would, of course, have cut the meat into thin strips, and have dried them slowly over the fire, and by this means have furnished himself with sufficient food for two or three days. But not knowing the art, he had placed all the pieces over the fire at once, believing, doubtless, like many other hungry people, that he could eat them all at one meal. Before, however, he had eaten half of one leg, he felt gorged; and feeling tired, put out the fire, raked all the ashes away, and when the fire-place had cooled somewhat, he laid himself down, with his legs coiled, and went to sleep. In the morning, before starting on his journey again, he ate the other half of the leg, out of which he had formed his supper, and tying the other three legs together, he descended the tree and resumed his march. During that day he was more bent upon walking than upon anything else; consequently he made a good day's march. At night, when he began to eat his supper, perched, like the night before, in the fork of a great tree, he perceived the meat was tainted, but as he had no other means of gratifying his hunger, he suppressed the rising nausea, and contentedly ate the ill-smelling meat. In the morning the meat swarmed with maggots, and he tossed it from him with disgust, and, without breakfast, resumed his journey. During the morning he travelled, at noon he rested; and for a couple of hours in the afternoon he contrived to hold on, until, faint with hunger, he was compelled to halt and go to sleep supperless also. Another day dawned, and Selim, descending from his perch, resolutely determined upon prosecuting his journey. The forest was unusually silent and deserted; not an animal crossed his path; a few kites alone hovered above. Hour after hour he dragged his weakened legs along till the sun was sinking over the western horizon. He had seen no water on this day, and thirst sharply and severely attacked his frame. And still another day dawned. Hunger and thirst had made great inroads on his strength, and had begun to sap his resolution. If he had but known that a few hours ahead of him lay the corn-fields of the Watuta villages, or if he had but known that only a mile north of the line he traversed lay the road over which Ferodia's caravan had travelled two days before! But enveloped round about by the great forest, to which there seemed to be no end, he knew nothing,--tiny mite that he was, alongside of one of those straight-stemmed and towering trees,--beyond the thin line of vision which his low stature permitted him. Could he only have seen one foot above those trees, he had been safe, and could have directed his steps whither he desired. But he could barely see the sky, so dense was the foliage and so closely did each tree's branches embrace the other. How hard it is to strive to attain the end of the interminable! What a seeming waste of strength is it to ever work and work to span the infinite! How disheartening it is to one to feel that he can never live to see the end of the endless! Interminable, infinite, and endless seemed this forest to the wearied, hungry, and thirsty Selim. He strained his eyes ever in his front, hoping that every low swell of the ground would enable him to see something encouraging; he looked in all directions for anything bearing the semblance of a living creature, of beast, or fowl; he looked upwards, striving to gain a glimpse of the serene face of heaven, which, in his present state of mind and body, would have afforded him momentary relief. Had he been more experienced in African travelling he would have known how to procure water; he would have known that in any one of those hollows a few hours' excavation with a pointed stick would have procured him water, and that if there were not roots to satisfy a craving stomach, then the land would be poor indeed. Knowing nothing, however, of these things, he wasted the precious hours in resting, and then plunging nervously on his way, until his body was obliged to confess its weakness and his starved legs refused to go. When much time was thus wasted, again he would rise to again fall; and, finally, he fell fainting to the ground. Poor boy! he was paying dearly for the desire of his father to increase his riches by the bartering of cloth and flimsy beads for human creatures! After a fainting fit, which lasted some minutes, he sat up, but was too weak to remain long even in that condition, and he fell back; and while thus prostrate, with his eyes upward, thought was busy with the pleasures he had been obliged to leave, and the more his body suffered the more his thoughts loved to revel in the luxurious scenes he had known. Groaning from sheer agony of body, he cried aloud: "Ah, for one sight of the foaming wave of the Zangian Sea, which curled at morn into graceful wreaths like liquid flowers as the monsoon gently kissed it! One glance, if nothing more, of the snowy strand whereon I have sported often with my playmates, little Suleiman, and lea, and Abdullah before we plunged gaily into the foam and spray with which each moment the sea drenched the margin of the island. How oft, as nude I lay stretched on the warm sandy shore, the great sun descending towards the continent, have I watched the great ships idly rocking on that sea which in its deep dissolving bosom of blue depths reflected as a mirror the spotless azure of the sky! Happy days! Memory recalls so much that a thousand years would never obliterate. My dear father's happy household gathered under the shade of the towering mangoes, whose rich fruit, golden, and purple, and brown, hung so temptingly over my head; the evening zephyr wind gently brushing by the light leaves as it rustled through from one tree to another with its welcome whispers, bending, as it flew, the tops of the kingly cocoa and the fragrant cinnamon, wafting the rich green bough of the orange, whose precious fruit was as a balm to my soul. Now could I but feel one in my fevered hand! What ample wealth does not my mind bring before my sickened eyes! The amber-coloured stalk of the sugar-cane and its luscious juice; dark green leaves of orange and mangoe; great cocoa-nuts, with their nutritious milk; the brilliant pomegranate, with its sweet soothing odour and thirst-assuaging pippins; the soft, rich guava, with its health-giving meat; the lime, with its yellow, golden fruit, at the mere sight of which fever and thirst are forgotten; and melons, whose deep green skins cover such crisp, sweet treasures. Ah! there is no place on earth to me like the beautiful island of Zanzibar. It is blessed by the beneficent God with Eden's wealth. Streams laugh with gladness and murmur with joy. Fresh, healthy winds blow over it, laden with the fragrance of earth's dearest and best treasures. God has blessed it with abundance, and has caused its warm bosom to heave with triumph. Lo! its gardens pass by me one after another; happy homes stand in their midst; the pride of my race sit happy under the shade of their orange trees, surrounded by their dependents, whose faces seem kindled with the quiet rapture which fills them. Trees and flowers, houses and gardens, men and women, hills and valleys, the sea and streams,--all of Zanzibar,--come nearer to the unhappy and forsaken son of great Amer bin Osman. "Come nearer, nearer still, to your kinsman Selim, Let me embrace ye before my destiny is accomplished! "No! no! Ah, ye are unkind! Gaze in pity upon my abject condition! Look down upon me, ye that are elated with pleasure. Mark my surroundings! This great, silent wilderness of forest, to which there is no end; it stretches from sunset to sunrise, from sea to sea; it excludes light and air; it smothers the earth with its limitless length and breadth. Through its thick, heavy drapery of leafage--I may not breathe, neither be warmed, by ever a single sun-ray. "Hark to the storm of wind sweeping over the tops of the giant trees! How it expends its might in attempting to open even a slight gap, that one of the true believers might see a glimpse of heaven before he dies! But it may not be. Nature took ages to build this rampart and construct this impregnable palisade, and the baffled tempest retreats, and leaves me hopeless and despairing. "The air is pregnant with deadly vapours; gigantic trees, fallen from extreme age, lie prone on the ground, infested by myriads upon myriads of creeping things; withered branches strew the ground thickly, and their leaves, long since dead, lie damp and sappy, reeking with every insect abomination. From afar, like the indistinct and distant sound of thunder, is borne to my ears, after traversing aisles upon aisles, the hungry lions' roar, suggestive of what may happen if relief comes not early to the lonely Arab boy; and my quickened hearing catches strains of a still fiercer meaning, the voice of the leopard calling to his mate, mingled with the growls of the hyaena. "Ah, cruel chance, that my fresh young life should be thus beset with dangers which menace it. What sin has my infancy committed that my youth must be punished so severely? What wrong have these boy-hands performed, that their owner merits death? What guile has ever my childhood's heart conceived for which my youth must pay the penalty? What crime has ever my brain meditated, that I must be reft of my life at so early an age? None,--none. I but ever acted as I knew how; not wantonly, not recklessly, but just as instinct and nature, untutored, impelled me to. "I would my father had never felt the power of manhood, or met my mother. I would my mother's womb, with its embryo, had withered up; then had I not been born to encounter such evil days. From the evil day Khamis bin Abdullah kindled in my father's breast knowledge of his comparative poverty I date the birth of my misfortune; from that time hard and evil days innumerable have I seen; mischance has succeeded mischance, danger succeeded danger, one suffering has produced another. "I saw my parent die as became the chief of his tribe. The friendly shields, which endeavoured to shelter him from harm, averted not the death which sought his lion heart; his companions in arms fell thickly around him in heaps upon heaps of unnumbered dead; while I stood alone, first to wonder at the strange phase of nature--death, then to mourn for the great loss that had befallen me, then to suffer torture like that to those who visit Eblis, and, finally, to wish that I had never seen the light which animates the earth, or had died upon that fatal field of battle. I, the son of great Amer, was made a slave by those hideous Watuta, who are but monstrous apes, was stripped of my clothing to have my modest youth shocked by the unbelievers' rude gaze. When, blushing at their impertinence, I resented the rough behaviour, they bound and scourged me, and they laughed and mocked me as the tortured flesh gave way and hung in gory tatters, and the red blood dyed my limbs crimson. Probed and pricked by their spears, they drove me to the journey amongst a herd of other slaves, while the relentless sun streamed its rays upon my naked and defenceless body, and I thought that all the agony of the damned was not to be compared to that which I suffered. Ah, the suffering that followed! The long, long days of marching, which seemed to be interminable, the protracted pains from thirst, the weary, leaden limbs that refused to be moved at my command, the long, long, immeasurable road, the poor victims that fell never to rise again, whom, nevertheless, I envied for their eternal relief from misery and poignant pain. Their stolid faces upturned to heaven, blank and unmeaning; the unwinking eyes, that must have once reflected domestic joys, gaped wide, but were dim and glazed, and nothing more on earth would ever cause them to cover that horrible, steady gaze on emptiness and vacancy; the greedy vulture might peck at them, the kites might satiate themselves on their entrails, the hyaena might gorge himself on their flesh, yet those once sensitive eyes would never wink their discontent. This is death! It is real death. It is the death which threatened me until, rendered desperate by the keen terrors which filled me one night, I deserted that ever-moving caravan, to find myself after a time in this strait, and the terror of death has followed me hither. Every thought, and moan, and cry speaks of it. For ever present is the fearful sight of death; it is in this stagnant, oppressive air which I breathe; and the tomb which God has raised above my head--in these lofty columns, bearing far up their leafy roof--I see. "Fit tomb for an Arab chief's son. A sultan of the Arab tribes might envy me mine. But where are the mourners? There should be my kindred weeping hot tears over Selim's early death. My mother, with her maids, should be present to wash my limbs ere shrouding them with snowy shash [fine bleached domestic, or cotton cloth]. There should be my playfellows to chant a dirge over my early departure from this life; and the holy Imam to repeat the prayers for the dead. There should be my kinsmen to dig my grave, and women to weep. But I am alone, to die without bidding farewell to my friends,--to die without taking with me to that other world that last enduring look of love from all who esteemed me, which must ever thrill the souls of those who leave sympathising friends behind. Then come and welcome, cruel, cruel Death; wreak thy will on me; my limbs are already chained to that earth of which they are a portion; thou hast hedged me around with thy terrors and affrighted my soul long enough; thou hast advanced and receded, as though it were child's play; I have alternately felt strong and faint, felt brave and weak. I may not balk thee longer! "Farewell, happy island, with thy purling streams, thy orange-groves, thou home of my happy childhood, home of my kindred! "Farewell, thou solemn earth; ay, bend thine head with shame for the frown with which thou hast regarded thy innocent child! "Farewell, thou monster Death! Thou tyrant! I am conquered; and I--I must--yield. I come, father, dear fa-ther!" CHAPTER SEVEN. FERODIA'S TRIUMPHAL APPROACH--HIS RECEPTION BY KATALAMBULA--THE KING PRAISES FERODIA--ABDULLAH IS GIVEN TO KALULU--ABDULLAH MEETS WITH SIMBA AND MOTO--KALULU'S PLAN OF SEARCH FOR SELIM--A GUN FOUND--SELIM FOUND-- THE SENSELESS FORM OF SELIM CARRIED TO THE VILLAGE--SELIM RECOVERS-- KALULU FRATERNISES WITH SELIM--KALULU'S FRIENDSHIP FOR SELIM. On the twenty-ninth day after the battle of Kwikuru, Ferodia, the chief of the Watuta, made his triumphant entrance to Katalambula's village. Messengers had arrived the night before at the King's house to announce the approach of the victorious chief; and when next morning, near noon, a great cloud of dust was perceived on the left bank of the river, then the women, posted on every advantageous point for a good view, began the glad lu-lu-lu-ing, and the welcome tones, when heard by the Watuta, were answered by them with a shout which might have been heard at the great lake into which the Liemba ran. Long before Ferodia had emerged from the leafy corn-fields on the left bank of the river, the vicinity of the great gate of Katalambula's village was thronged by a multitude of men, women, and children gathered from the rich plain around, who were the brothers, cousins, nephews, wives, sisters, and children of the warriors whose return was now so enthusiastically, nay, frantically, welcomed. Two thousand voices sounded the happy "lu-lu-lu;" four thousand hands were clapped together; four thousand legs, brown and black, and black and brown, danced, leaped, moved, and wriggled as the emotions of their owners moved them. And Ferodia was all this time slowly approaching, while the drums, with tremendous thunderous volume of tone, ushered him into the presence of the assembled multitudes. Note him well as he approaches. What civilised monarch ever acted the triumph he felt so well as Ferodia? What civilised king ever possessed that gait? What actor could have imitated Ferodia? Mark his steps, his lion strides, with his legs encumbered with one hundred rings of fine wire. Watch how negligently he lays his arms, heavy with broad ivory wristlets, on the shoulders of the supple-bodied youngsters, who are jealous of this high honour conferred on them. Note the toss of his head with its wealth of braids! It is the majesty of triumph impersonified. Happy men would those actors be who could but imitate that regal air! The procession is in the following order, as it appears before the gate and the multitude. Two hundred warriors in front of Ferodia, file after file, each head adorned with feathers in huge, dancing, waving tufts, each man solemnly marching through the gate into the quadrangular square surrounded by the King's quarters to occupy one side of the square in line. Then Ferodia himself, supported by two stalwart young warriors, one on each side. Then two hundred warriors, each warrior's face surrounded by the black, stiff hairs of the zebra's mane, stripped entire with the hide from the zebra's neck, which gives each warrior a fierce appearance, much fiercer than the black bearskin caps give to English hussars. Then the adult captives in gangs of twenty, bearing the plunder Ferodia had taken from the Arabs. Then the boy captives, at the head of whom was Abdullah, whose white face and body obtained universal notice. Then five hundred warriors bringing up the rear, each head decorated according to the caprice of its owner, with feathers, and red, white, and blue cloth. The nine hundred warriors were formed around the square, while the captives, after depositing their loads near the great tree in the centre of the square--the cloth bales by themselves, the beads in a separate pile, the boxes by themselves, the kettles, pots, pans, and miscellaneous goods by themselves, the powder barrels and bullets by themselves, and the guns by themselves--formed a circle around the tree. Katalambula was seated on his mud bench or sofa, which was garnished on this occasion with over a score of lion and leopard skins. In his hand was a short rod, to the end of which was neatly fixed a giraffe's tail, with which he negligently whisked the flies from his face. The multitude which we first saw outside the gate had climbed upon the roofs of the square tembes, and looked down now intent upon the warriors, the slaves, the plunder, and the king, seated with Kalulu and the grey-headed elders and councillors of the tribe under the tree. Ferodia stood with spear in hand alone in the centre of the inner circle formed by the ring of slaves, and close to the great heaps of spoil he had taken from the camp of the Arab traders. His attitude was unmistakeably grand, and spoke the proud chieftain. A broad robe of crimson blanket cloth, which trailed to the ground, was tied in a knot over his left shoulder, leaving his right shoulder free. There was a dead silence; not a word was heard from the warriors or from the multitudes. Then the mild voice of Katalambula was heard, saying: "Ferodia, we have expected thee. We have heard of thy great success; how thyself and the Watuta warriors have triumphed over the Arab traders. Speak, our ears are open." Then Ferodia replied: "O King, and ye elders of our tribe! I was sent by Katalambula to bear presents to his friends, the Warori chiefs; and, as I had concluded, I was thinking of returning to Ututa, when Olimali sent word to my camp that the Arabs--the traders from the sea--had come to his country with an immense store of cloth and beads. He said they were of those who had slain Mostana thy brother, O Katalambula." "Eyah! Eyah!" greeted the speaker from the king and his elders, in which Kalulu joined. Lifting his voice higher, and adopting a more energetic strain, while his spear was used to describe gestures, Ferodia continued: "When I heard the words of Olimali, the King of the Warori, I became as a hungry lion, even as a roaring lion before his prey. I said aloud, `Lo, Malungu (the Sky-spirit, or God) has put the Arabs into my hands, even the slayers of Mostana, thy brother. I will arise and avenge Katalambula and Mostana's son on them. I will make strong drink from their bodies, and give their entrails to the fowls of the air, and their heads I will raise before Olimali's gate to the terror of all other Arabs who come, and murder, and steal, and make slaves, from near the sea.'" "Eyah--eyah!" shouted the multitude. "When the morning came, the Watuta warriors were in the bush and in the corn. They heard the horn of Olimali, they heard the noise of the Arabs' guns, they heard the shouting and the battle, and, at my signal, the Watuta warriors rose as one man. They came with the swiftness of arrows, like the flash of a bright spear. We saw the foe in the village of Olimali, we hemmed them round, we closed the gates, and we began to slay. Before our arrows and spears the foe fell in numbers, in heaps, until those that were left cried aloud for mercy, and fell on their knees. Then we made slaves of hundreds of men and boys, and bound them captives for Katalambula. We took guns, and powder, and bullets; we gathered a heap of wealth, of fine cloth and beads. Of the cloth, and beads, the guns, and powder, and lead, I have given half to Olimali, the King of the Warori. Then each Mtuta warrior received his due, six cloths to each man; the Watuta chiefs received their due, and Ferodia took a share. Fifty slaves died on the road to Ututa, two Arab slaves died, and one white Arab ran away to die in the forest. We have two hundred and fifty men-slaves, and seventeen boy-slaves left, one of whom is the son of an Arab chief. The cloth, and the beads, and the other plunder from the Arabs lie before you in these heaps. O King, and ye elders of the tribe, I have spoken." "Eyah! eyah!" burst out in applausive accents amid clapping of hands and lu-lu-ing from all the people. Then Katalambula spoke and said, "O Ferodia, great chief and warrior! thou art like a right arm to me; thou art a very lion in war. Who is stronger than thou in the battle? The Wabena, the Wasowa, the Wakonongo, and even the Wajiji, have felt thy spear. Verily thou hast spread the name of the Watuta and the renown of Katalambula to the ends of the earth. "Let the people hear, and let the elders open their ears. What king has a warrior like Ferodia? He goeth forth with empty hands, but returneth full. He goeth from the village poor, and returneth rich. His warriors are beggars when they depart from us, but they return with Merikani, and Kaniki, fine Sohari, and Joho cloth, and their nakedness is hidden under heaps of finery. Who is like unto Ferodia? Were not our maidens in tears when he and his warriors left us? Lo, and behold, they are now laughing, and their hearts dance for joy. Were not our children hungry when he departed? Lo, and behold, they cry no more, for their bellies are full. Katalambula--even I--was poor, whereas who is to be compared to me now in wealth? Verily thou art great and good, Ferodia, and Katalambula is pleased with thee. I have spoken." Then Katalambula got up and examined the slaves, while Ferodia walked by his side and commented on such as exhibited extraordinary qualities; and in going around the circle, the King came to the boy-gang, and when he came to Abdullah he could barely contain himself for delight and gratified curiosity. "Verily," said he, "the Arabs are strange people, and this is one of that race. Strange people; all white!" Katalambula put out his finger to touch the pale skin of Abdullah, and he instantly drew it back as if the skin had bitten him, laughing at himself for his timidity. But, encouraged by Ferodia, he placed his hand on his shoulders, and marvelled at their softness; and then toyed with the boy's hair, remarking that it felt like goat's hair. Then the boy was obliged to open his mouth while Katalambula peered down his throat, as if he were in search of some hidden treasure, or as if he expected something would jump out, since the white boy was such a wonderful creature. "But what are you going to do with him?" asked Katalambula. "It is for the King to command," said Ferodia, in an insinuating tone. "Well, I will give him to Kalulu; but I thought there were three of them; or were there four?" "Only three white," said Ferodia; "one died on the road, a little fellow, and the tallest ran away, about five days from here." "Why did he run away?" asked the King. "Because he was a fool, and the son of a fool," responded Ferodia. "I never saw such a stubborn ass; his mouth was full of words, but his back had no work in it; therefore he preferred to die in the woods, as he cannot live. Yet had he spirit enough for two warriors, and he would have made a fine slave by-and-bye." "Who art thou speaking of, Ferodia?" asked young Kalulu. "Now, hold thy tongue, boy, and do not thou interfere with the affairs of men; but rather see how good Ferodia, thy uncle, is to thee; he has given thee that white slave for a playmate. Take him, cut loose his bonds, and teach him to be a warrior." "Nay, let Ferodia answer me," persisted Kalulu, "and I will then see about the white slave. Who is he that has run away?" "If thou must know," said Ferodia, looking on Kalulu kindly, "'twas a young Arab slave, about thy age, who ran away. He was the son of a chief, and I half suspect he was driven to run away by Tifum's unkindness." "Tifum Byah!" cried Kalulu; "no wonder he ran, Ferodia; Tifum has not a gentle hand; but I will see thee again, uncle. I must look after my white slave now, and teach him to eat first." And Kalulu, leaving the King and Ferodia to pursue their examinations into their property, turned to Abdullah with a curious look, and then, taking his spear, he proceeded to cut the rope around his waist; then, beckoning to the astonished Arab boy, he walked away towards his own quarters, followed by him. When he had Abdullah in his own apartment, all to himself, he again turned to take a look at him, and silently surveyed him from head to foot. Then, walking up to him, he stood with his back to Abdullah's, and, putting his hand over his head, he seemed desirous of knowing whether he was taller than him; and having satisfied himself, he turned round to him again, and, smiling, said to him in Kituta--the language of Ututa: "Son of an Arab, canst thou speak Kituta? No? is that what thou meanest by shaking thy head? Canst thou speak Kirori? No, again? Kibena, perhaps? No? Canst thou speak Kinyamwezi? No? Then what language dost thou talk? But, never mind, thy head must think of thy belly now; I will go fetch thee some food. Sit down on this bullock-hide until I return." And Kalulu vanished, having pointed to the hide on which he desired Abdullah to seat himself. [_Ki_ placed before Tuta means, the language of Tuta; _U_, the country of Tuta; _Wa_, people of Tuta; _M_, a man of Tuta. This rule is the same with other African names.] Presently he returned with a female slave bearing some roast kabobs (small pieces of meat), rice, honey pombe, or native beer, and a thick porridge; and pointing to the food and to his mouth, he intimated to him his desire that he should fall to and eat; which Abdullah, casting a grateful look on him, was not slow to understand and to avail himself of. After watching the Arab boy eat for some moments, he left the hut again, but soon returned with two men, whose faces immediately attracted Abdullah's attention and made him cease eating from surprise. When he opened his mouth to speak, he ejaculated-- "Simba! Moto! how came you here?" "Abdullah! poor boy!" The two men having spoken, Abdullah sprang to his feet, and, throwing his arms first around Simba's neck, then around Moto's, he embraced and kissed them both, and shed floods of tears from joy, while Kalulu, looking at them all, smiled with fraternal pleasure. "I am not alone, then, as I thought; I have still some friends left," sobbed Abdullah. "I thought all had left me." "Nay, weep not, Abdullah," said Bimba. "Allah is good. Tell me, son of Mohammed, where are Selim, and Mussoud, and Isa?" "Ah! Simba; evil days have been our fate ever since we came to Urori. Isa died of the small-pox soon after starting for Ututa; then, some days afterwards, Mussoud, my dear little brother, fell ill of the same disease and died; and Selim--" "Yes, tell us where he is!" said Moto, eagerly. "The same night that Mussoud was dying, Selim asked me to go with him to the forest; he said he could not live longer, while Tifum was beating him all the time; and to see the men and boys die on the road, and left to be eaten by beasts of prey, sickened his soul. I could not go while the fate of my little brother was uncertain, but I gave Selim my prayers, and after I had fallen asleep he must have gone, for he was not by my side when I awoke, and his yoke-tree was empty. I think he took with him a gun and some spears, for the Watuta who lost those things made a great noise about their loss." "Bun away!" said Simba and Moto, looking at one another blankly. "Selim gone! but, Abdullah, did he tell you which way he was going after he would leave you?" "He said he intended to try to get to Zanzibar, but while I was dropping to sleep, or whether I dreamed it or not I can't say, I thought I heard him mutter something about you, and Moto, and Katalambula." "Ay, that's it, more likely," said Moto. "He remembered our warning. The boy, if he is not here now, must be in that forest still. Did he say, Abdullah, whether he would go north or south first?" "Oh, south, because the camp was on the southern side of the road, and our part of the camp was the most southerly; so it was easy for him to slip away unperceived." "And how many days from here, Abdullah, is the spot from whence Selim disappeared?" "We came here in six or seven days--I forget the exact number," answered the boy. All this time, Kalulu looked from one to the other; and seeing the looks of anxiety and uneasiness on the faces of his friends, he asked Moto what the matter was, upon which Moto explained that his young master was missing--he for whose sake he had sought out himself and Katalambula. Then he asked what Moto purposed doing, and was answered that he did not know, but would consult with Simba; upon which Kalulu promised that, whatever they did, he would assist them. Simba and Moto, sometimes assisted by Abdullah, consulted together for a few minutes, at the end of which Moto informed Kalulu that they had decided that it was their duty to hunt up their young master, who was by this, perhaps, perishing from hunger, or was captured again by some other tribe of the Watuta. Young Kalulu had expected this would have been the answer; for, being sharp-witted, and knowing how great was their affection for their young master, he could have divined nothing else. And he replied that, if his assistance was wanting, he was ready with his influence to promote anything necessary for the restoration of Selim to his friends. "For," said he, "since I have seen what the Arabs are face to face, I begin to like them. At least, I think I shall like this one and Selim; besides, my uncle has already given me this one for a slave, and he will give me the other one, if I can catch him. But, Moto, they both shall be thine when thou wilt demand them from my hands." When this was translated into Kisawabili, the language of Simba, by Moto, Simba said to Moto: "Tell the young chief that if he can get fifty men from Katalambula, on the pretence that he has heard there are elephants in the forests, we can start at once, and by spreading out through the woods, either find him ourselves there, or hear some news of him, or rescue him from those who have already got him." After expressing his approval of the scheme, Moto conveyed it by translation to Kalulu, who replied immediately that he would set about it at once; and while saying it, he left the hut. In half an hour he returned, and informed Simba and Moto that the men were outside the gate waiting for them, though it was unusual to start on a hunting expedition without the ceremony of the magic doctors. "However," he added, "I have explained that it shall be done at the village nearest the forest, where we shall arrive to-morrow at noon if we travel well. So come on, Moto; I want to do something too, or Ferodia will be on everybody's tongue, and Kalulu's name will never be heard; besides, I want to see this young master of thine, and see if he is as good as you say he is." While he had been talking, Simba and Moto had snatched up their guns and declared themselves ready, and Kalulu, after giving orders to have Abdullah sleep in his hut, and to be well fed and looked after, accompanied by Simba and Moto, hastily left the hut. Kalulu was very proud as he showed his friends his warriors, and was sure that with such people the lost Arab boy would be found. Then, putting himself at their head, with his friends next to him, he rapidly led the way along which Ferodia had arrived from Urori. As it was noon when they started, they could continue their march until late at night, which they did; and a couple of hours before dawn next morning found them _en route_ again. At noon, as Kalulu had said, they saw the forest darkening the western horizon ahead; but between them and the forest was a village, whose corn-fields were then reached, situated about a mile south of the road, from which Simba supposed it would be best to spread out, and keep a sharp eye for anything that promised to furnish a clue of him for whom they were about to search. They soon came to the village, and when the inhabitants recognised Katalambula's adopted son, they manifested great delight, and immediately set about furnishing him and his men with the best they had, consisting of bananas, and porridge, beans, and rice, and pombe. The chief of the village was very assiduous to please Kalulu, and sat down close to him, imparting local news; and, as he began to impart it, he remembered an incident which had occurred that morning, which was, that one of his men, searching for wild honey, a couple of hours off in the forest, had found a gun. "A gun!" said Moto. "A gun!" echoed Kalulu. "Yes, a gun; and the medicine was in it--the medicine powder and bullet--for when the man who found it was playing with it, boom! it went, almost killing him with fright." "Yes, yes, that's very funny; very funny," said Moto, trying to curb his impatience; "but did your man find nothing else near it?" "Nothing else, my brother. What do you mean? Was not the finding of a gun strange enough in a forest which, for aught I know, never saw one before? Can many more miracles happen to us like this?" "But, my brother," urged Moto, with anger in his tones, "how could the gun have come there if some one had not left it?" "The Mienzi Mungu (Good Spirit) placed it there for me. It was not many days ago since my father, the chief, died; and when I had put him in the ground deep, and covered him with earth, I collected all his property in a heap, and thanked the Mienzi Mungu, who had been so kind to me, and prayed to him to make me rich and strong. The good Mienzi Mungu has heard my prayers, and has sent this gun, with its strong medicine, from the skies, for me." "Chief, be silent," said Kalulu, holding up his hand; "the heir of Katalambula commands thee. Knowest thou the spot where thy man found this wonderful gun?" "My lord, thy slave is silent when Kalulu speaks. I know not the place, but my man must know." The man was called, and when he was asked if he had searched the vicinity for further treasures, he replied that he had not, as he had hurried away with what he had found to his chief. He was then told to prepare himself to accompany Kalulu and his men to the spot where he had found the marvellous treasure. Within two hours they had arrived, and stood under a tree in a dense part of the noble forest. The trees grew around thickly, with many towering columns, supporting a mass of leafage, impenetrable to glare of sun or the white light of day. On the man pointing the exact spot to Kalulu, Moto, and Simba, the warriors of Katalambula were formed in line, and one half was ordered to march northward, each distant from his fellow fifty paces, and the other half was ordered to step out, with their faces to the south, in like manner. The men having thus been posted in skirmishing order, were then ordered to front towards the east and march forward, observing closely everything strange they might see. The men had not advanced far--not more than two hundred yards--when one of them gave a shout, which instantly attracted the attention of all. He was seen pointing with excited motions at some object lying on the ground. Simba uttered a roar of joy, when, bounding upward to catch one glimpse of the object, he perceived it to be the pale-coloured and apparently inanimate body of his young master. Moto, also, labouring under no less joyful excitement, shot forward with the speed of an arrow, and Kalulu's light and graceful form was seen cleaving the air as he sped with nimble feet towards Simba. The men soon shared in the excitement, and came running up to know the cause; and, among the first, was seen the peasant who had found the gun in this same forest, little dreaming that its owner lay so near. But the joy of the leaders was soon turned to sorrow. The giant Simba stood nerveless and speechless at the head of the body, Kalulu looked on with deep sympathy on his face, at the side, while Moto threw himself on his knees with clasped hands, at the feet, keen anguish written in every line of his face. The positions of the others, as they came up one by one to obtain a view of the prostrate form of the boy, indicated sorrow, mixed with curious awe; but that of the man through whose aid the body had been discovered was the most remarkable. When he had approached the curious object which attracted such attention and elicited such shouts, he stood stock still, as if he had been suddenly petrified; but seeing that the pale object bore the semblance of a man, and that it remained motionless, he advanced slowly on tiptoe, while his face underwent remarkable changes as his emotions moved him. "What is it?" he asked of the nearest man to him. "Is that the Mienzi Mungu who left the gun?" "No," answered the man, shortly, "this is not the Mienzi Mungu, thou fool; 'tis but an Arab boy, who has died from hunger," he added, proudly, and with the compassionate tone of one who pitied such woeful ignorance. "An Arab boy!" he uttered. "What is that?" "He is one of the white people who live in the middle of the sea," the warrior answered. "Well, what makes him so white? Is his skin like the shell of an egg? Is he hard or soft to the touch?" he asked again, with a strange curiosity. "Art thou afraid of a dead boy? Go to the body and feel it, fool." The peasant smiled foolishly as he was thus rebuked; but presently he was seen to crawl towards the body and timidly put his hand on the boy's chest to feel it; but he suddenly removed it with a cry. "He is not dead! His skin is soft, and I felt it move!" Moto and Kalulu sprang and knelt down by the boy's side, and a joyful sparkle was seen in Simba's eyes as he also bent down and placed one hand within that of the motionless boy, and the other on the chest. Moto felt the head, to see if there was internal warmth in it, and Kalulu seemed desirous of knowing the truth by reading it in the eyes of Simba and Moto with his own. "He lives! my young master Selim lives! Allah be praised!" cried Simba fervently. "But he will not live long if we don't carry him away to put something into him," said Moto, anxiously and hurriedly. "Dost thou see Simba, how thin he is? he is nothing but skin and bone--and look here, Simba! Wallahi! what sheitan (bad man, fiend) has done this? See the bruises on his shoulders, and--turn him over on his side--there!--look at his back, Simba!" "Moto," answered that great and tender-hearted giant, "Tell me, what could have done this? Is it a man? A man?--no! No man could have wounded and striped that back so, because Selim--poor innocent Selim!-- could have done nothing to deserve it. This is the work of a pure mshensi (savage), and I will tear out that man's heart, so help me Allah! But let us bear him quickly but gently to the village--and, Moto, ask Kalulu to send the man back running to tell the people to have some very thin ugali (porridge) boiled in goat's milk ready by the time we reach there." The order was given by Kalulu immediately, and Moto, laying hold of his shoulder-cloth, which he had thrown away from him at the first burst of excitement, began to spread it out on the ground. Simba aided Moto then to lift the wasted form of their young master on the cloth, groaning from sheer sorrow and grief at the thought of what he must have suffered, and murmuring to himself, "Selim will tell me if he lives, and if he dies, little Abdullah will tell me, and then, you sheitan, you mshensi dog! I will treat you in the same way as you treated Selim-- sure, sure." When the senseless form of Selim had been placed on the cloth, Simba and Moto took hold of each corner of it at the head while two other men were ordered by Kalulu to take hold of each corner at the feet, and in this manner they proceeded on their return to the village. When the party arrived at the village, they found the inhabitants loudly and excitedly discussing the strange events that had occurred, and the report which Kalulu's messenger, the peasant, had made concerning the discovery of a white boy, nearly dead from hunger, in the forest. The report that a white boy had been found created an unprecedented surprise and excitement; no stranger news could have been given in a village where white people had never been heard of or dreamed of before; the wildest imagination could not have produced any shape or human figure so wonderful. A boy all white! white skin--as white as the yolk of an egg! They might have imagined black men with horns, or black men with two heads, six arms, and as many legs as a centipede, or any other monstrosity; but a white boy, with skin so soft and smooth that the slightest pressure with the finger produced an impression on it,--this was wonderful and excelled all tradition. No wonder, then, that when the party which bore the white boy was seen advancing, the people made a general rush to see the curiosity. But Kalulu, warned by Moto, had thought of this; and his warriors had been so skilfully arranged that the excited people found themselves balked; and Moto, Simba, and the other two men bore their burden into an empty hut which the village chief, at Kalulu's command, showed them. The ugali, or porridge, which had been prepared, was then taken by Simba, and while Moto gently forced the mouth of the boy open, Simba, with a small wooden paddle, which he had soon scooped out into a shallow spoon, began to drop some of the nourishing gruel into the open month. The effect was almost instantaneous, although to the anxious Simba it appeared a long time; the open lips closed and a slight movement of the throat was observed. Again the lips opened, and the watchful Simba poured a few more drops of the warm and grateful restorative, and soon, as fast as he poured, the thirsty mouth received it, with other agreeable effects which the friends were quick to perceive. Kalulu, who knelt at Selim's head, pointed Simba to the minute beads of perspiration which had formed on the previously dry forehead, and Moto, placing his hand on the chest, gladdened the ears of all with the news that the heart throbbed quicker and stronger. Presently, Selim heaved a sigh, and the eyelids, hitherto closed, opened, revealing the lustrous orbs which give light and the sense of seeing to the body. "Ay, what eyes! so large and beautiful!" ejaculated Kalulu, with wonder. "Hush-sh," said Simba, warningly, as he bent his ears to the lips which now were whispering words which brought the tears to Simba's eyes. "And sons shall mourn for Arab fathers slain, And Arab wives shall shed their tears like rain." "Poor boy!" said Simba; "he repeats the words his mother said before son and mother parted." And then in a louder tone he said, "Selim, young master, dost thou know me?" The head turned round, and the eyes of his young master rested on him full, with the light of intelligence in them. "Ah, Simba! Is it thou?" asked Selim, in a faint but glad voice. "Yes, I--thy slave Simba. Praised be Allah for his goodness! my master knows his slave." "Where am I?" Selim then asked. "I have had such a fearful dream. I thought I was dying from thirst and hunger. But this is not that awful forest I saw. I am in a house, and Simba is at my side. How is this, Simba?" "Dost thou not know Moto, master?" asked Moto, who had risen to his feet. "And thou too, Moto, here? Then I am happy. I am not alone, as I dreamed I was." "No, master, thou art not alone; but take some more of this," said Simba, as he industriously stirred the porridge. "It is good for thee, and thou wilt be quite strong by-and-bye." And Selim obediently opened his mouth and permitted himself to be fed without demur, though his eyes worked and looked about to aid his mind in resolving the remarkable change of circumstances which had taken place since he fell down in the forest from fatigue, hunger, and thirst. When the gruel was exhausted and he had eaten his fill, Selim found his strength much recovered, his mind firmer, and he asked Simba to tell him how this change had come about. Simba related briefly all the facts already known to us, to Selim's infinite surprise and joy; and Selim, in answer to a question from Simba, related what occurred to him, from the time Simba and Moto disappeared at Ewikuru to the time he laid down as he thought to die, Kalulu came round now, and kneeled in front of Selim, and Simba introduced him as the adopted son of the King, who had been so good to Moto, and as the young chief through whose aid they had been enabled to discover him. Selim lifted his hand, and grasped Kalulu's fervently, and asked Moto to tell him how grateful he felt to him for his kindness, which was no sooner done than Kalulu said: "Let the son of the Arab chief eat, and rest, and get strong. Let neither hunger nor thirst approach him. Kalulu is his brother. With Kalulu my white Arab brother may tread the forest glades in safety; for the forest is kind to Kalulu; the trees nod their tall heads to him as a friend, the birds make music for him, and the honey-bird finds sweet treasures for him. The forest is fall of beauty and richness, and Kalulu's heart is glad when he can roam through it alone. Neither the lion nor the leopard harm him, and the wild boar starts in fear when Kalulu is near him. Get well, my brother, get strong, and fear harm no more." To which Selim answered, while grateful tears filled his eyes: "The voice of Kalulu sounds in my ears as the living waters of a fountain in the ears of a thirsty man. My soul responds to his kind words as the closed petals of the lotus to the warm light of day. Fear and distrust fly from me as the gloom of night and early mist before the sunshine. When the heart is tranquil and sadness does not disturb the mind, a man sees joy in all things; even the sombre forest is reft of its terrors, and becomes beautiful, the ground is found to be clothed with sweet grass and pretty flowers. The waving grain and tasselled corn does not bend more easily to the breeze than a man's heart does to his emotions; the dark past will be forgotten by me, and with Kalulu as a brother I shall find beauty in all things, music in birds, pleasure in the fields, joy in sunshine and night." Kalulu replied: "Thy voice, my white brother, makes Kalulu glad. His heart grows under its pleasant sounds, and is moved like the foliage by the soughing breezes. I will teach thee what the Sky-spirit has taught the children of the Watuta, and thou shalt teach me what the Sky-spirit has taught the pale-faced children of the Arabs. Thou shalt show me what the great sea is like whose waters are salt, and to what it is like when the angry pepo (storm) blows on it; and I will show thee the brown Liemba, where, among the thick matete brake, hides the long-nosed mamba (crocodile), and where the hippopotamus loves to bathe his great body. I will show thee the pretty islands, silent as the night in their loneliness, which are guarded by scores of crocodiles, for me to roam when I like. I will teach thee how to hunt the swift antelope and the leaping springbok; how to pierce the thick hide of the pharo (rhinoceros); how to laugh at the fierce bellow of the wild buffalo; and how a Mtuta boy meets the lion. Eat and get strong. But tell me, my brother, how comes thy back so scarred and wealed?" "Kalulu, my brother, thy words have made me strong already. Heed not my bruised body; thy words are a medicine for it. The music of thy voice has healed my sores. I feel them no more." "Nay, but tell me the name of the man who made them. Was it Ferodia?" "No. Ferodia has not struck me; it was the man they call Tifum Byah." "Tifum Byah! the cruel dog; but never mind, I will stripe his back for him." "Nay, please trouble him not, for my sake, Kalulu; the dark days are over." "Well, we shall see," said Kalulu. "But now we will leave thee to sleep and rest. We shall stay two days here, when thou wilt be strong enough to be carried before Katalambula. I marvel at the friendship I bear thee; but Moto was good to me, and when he told me thou wert his master, I loved thee then. Now I love thee for thyself. The Watuta know how to love and hate, how to like and dislike." Then, turning to his warriors, who had crowded into the hut, Kalulu said, "Come, let us leave Moto and Simba with the pale-faced boy; they will watch him." CHAPTER EIGHT. CEREMONY OF BROTHERHOOD--CEREMONY OF BLOOD-DRINKING--SELIM BROUGHT INTO FERODIA'S PRESENCE--SIMBA TO THE RESCUE--THE WARNING TO KALULU--KALULU SPEAKS FOR SELIM--WHERE IS PARADISE?--SELIM AND ABDULLAH ARE CLOTHED-- DOWN THE LIEMBRA--THE HIPPOPOTAMUS--OVERBOARD--FIGHTING THE CROCODILE-- HOW KALULU FOUGHT THE CROCODILE--SECURING THE RIVER-HORSE. On the third day after his discovery in the forest by his friends Simba, Moto, and young Kalulu, Selim was sufficiently strong to begin his journey to the village of Katalambula. Had Kalulu not assured him of his friendship, and that he would be a brother to him, it is doubtful that Selim would have looked upon the idea of meeting Ferodia and his obsequious servant Tifum Byah--to whose tyranny he owed so much misery-- again with pleasure. But it was agreed between Kalulu and Selim that the ceremony of brotherhood, of which he had heard much before, should take place the evening before they arrived at Katalambula's village. The party travelled by easy stages, and on the fifth day of the journey, the day set apart for the ceremony of brotherhood, they found themselves close to the Liemba stream, at a village called Kisari, distant but eight miles from the capital of Katalambula. Here the author may remark, for the benefit of the younger readers, that a close brotherhood among men or boys, unrelated by blood, birth, or marriage, is in no way singular. I need but mention David and Jonathan, Achilles and Patroclus, Damon and Pythias, as examples among men; and what boy of any nation, in any public school, has not some friend who is as dear to him as a born brother? It arises from a similarity of dispositions generally, from the desire to relieve ourselves from little anxieties, and to have some one in whom we have thorough confidence. There were two things singular about this ceremony of brotherhood about, to be enacted between Selim and Kalulu. First, was the ceremony of blood-drinking connected with it; and, secondly, was the fact that a Moslem boy--a true believer--was about to become a brother with a Pagan boy--an unbeliever--and to drink his blood. For it is expressly prohibited by the Kuran that blood shall be drunk by the true believer; next, it is expressly prohibited that a true believer shall make any such close friendship with an infidel. But it may be argued for poor Selim that he was yet but a young boy; that he was driven by necessity to this as the best method of assuring his freedom and safety from recapture, and this the Kuran, whose laws are not cruel, permits when there is necessity; and it might be said that Selim was, perhaps, not aware of the Kuran's prohibition in this small matter; otherwise, I doubt that a boy so generally pious would have erred against the law of the Prophet consciously. On Kalulu's side, nothing could be said against the ceremony. It was a common custom with his tribe, when any of them met anybody they liked better than another, to go through the ceremony. Sometimes the chiefs did it with neighbouring chiefs, to strengthen their alliance from motives of policy, for the same reason that European monarchs contract-- or rather did, for it has lost long ago its former significance-- advantageous alliances among themselves for their sons and daughters. Kalulu wished the ceremony to proceed, because he had a strong liking for Selim, born of gratitude to Moto; because Selim was of his own age; because he had pleasant ways with him, and friendship having grown out of the accidental circumstances under which they met, he desired to assure himself, with the ardour of a boy, that real friendship existed between them. Once his brother by this ceremony, no one of his tribe could injure Selim; and Ferodia and Tifum Byah might storm and fret in vain, for the ceremony of brotherhood with Kalulu could not be disregarded. We shall see, however, what came of it. At sunset, Kalulu was asked to seat himself side by side with Selim on the ground, which he did, taking hold of Selim's right hand, each with his profile half turned to the other. Simba was the master of the ceremonies on this occasion, who held a knife with all the solemnity of one who was about to offer a sacrifice to some horrid deity who delighted in the blood of youths. Moto stood by as a supernumerary, and to interpret the words of Simba for Kalulu. The people of Kisari had also come to witness the ceremony. Simba advanced as the sun was setting, knife in hand, while the two boys retained each other's right hands, and said to Kalulu: "Art thou willing to be a brother to Selim, to be more than a friend to him, to share what thou hast with him, to defend him against all enemies to the best of thy power, and to stand by him until death?" Kalulu answered, "I am." "With what wilt thou seal thy word?" "With the blood of my right arm." "And what wilt thou give him as a sign?" "I will give him a sheep." "Art thou willing further to drink his blood, that his blood may pass unto thee, that the bond of eternal brotherhood may be made strong and sure?" "I am." Then turning to Selim, Simba asked: "Art thou, Selim, willing to accept Kalulu as a brother, to be more than a friend to him, to share what thou hast with him, to defend him to the utmost of thy power against all enemies, and to stand by him to the death?" Selim answered, "I am." "With what wilt thou seal thy promise?" "With the blood of my right arm." "And what wilt thou give him as a sign?" "I will give him my gun." "Art thou willing, further, to drink his blood, that his blood may pass unto thee, that the bond of eternal brotherhood may be made strong and euro?" "I am." "Then let it be done!" Simba said; and with that he made a small incision in the arm of each, and as the blood began to flow, he shouted, "Drink!" and immediately the youths seized each other's right arms, and left their right hands free, and putting their lips to the wounds, sucked a small quantity and swallowed it, and the ceremony was concluded by a fraternal embrace. During the exchange of presents which followed, men, women, and children shouted and clapped their hands; and the youngest of them, in the exuberance of their childish hearts, kicked up their heels and danced, as they do upon most great occasions in Africa. The next morning, a little before noon, the party arrived at the capital. Selim's arrival caused a great sensation; but Kalulu immediately took him and his two friends, Simba and Moto, into his own hut, where Selim, to his great joy, met Abdullah, who was quite recovered from the severe punishment he had received and the fatigues he had undergone. The meeting between the two Arab boys was very affecting, as they could understand each other's feelings and interpret them faithfully one to the other. After a short time, Simba and Moto left the two boys to themselves and retired to their own hut, while Kalulu, after seeing Selim attended to and supplied with food, started for the King's house to acquaint the King with the events which we have just detailed. It was not long after the two Arab boys were left alone that a rustling of many feet was heard at the door, not noisy, but hurried, and somewhat alarming; and immediately there stood before the astonished boys the form and malevolent face of Tifum Byah, his former tyrant, accompanied by other warriors, armed with spears and knob-sticks. "Oh, ho! hee, hee!" shouted Tifum, with a wicked leer on his face. "This is my runaway slave. Ha, ha! thou art caught like a sneaking jackal in a trap. Come, my pale-faced slave, you must follow me;" and he advanced and laid a rough hand upon his shoulder. "Why with you?" asked Selim. "Come, no words. Ferodia, the chief, calls." "But I am now Kalulu's brother," said Selim, attempting to release himself from his grasp, "and I am no longer a slave." "You the brother of Kalulu! Since when came you to be the brother of Kalulu, you son of an ass?" "Since yesterday; and if you do not let me go, Kalulu will punish you for entering his hut." "We'll see about that. Warriors, bear him to Ferodia!" said Tifum, turning to his companions. And Selim was borne away, despite his remonstrances, to Ferodia's presence, who happened to be seated under the tree in the middle of the square. "Here is the runaway," said Tifum, laying a heavy hand on Selim's shoulder, to Ferodia. "Ha! pale-faced dog!" shouted Ferodia, angrily. "What made you run away? Did you think to better yourself by doing so? Speak." "I am not a dog!" retorted Selim in a passion; for he was getting desperate at the prospect of another lease of such cruel bondage as he had experienced. "I am not a dog, but you are a dog." "Eyah, eyah! hear him! A slave insults Ferodia the chief!" cried the obsequious Tifum. "Fool, do you know what you say?" "Silence, pariah!" thundered Selim, more passionately. "I defy you!--I spit on you! You are dirt. Do your worst, great chief--the Arab boy will not bend to you!" As the boy uttered these words, showing more spirit, and such anger, and bitter contempt as none of the Watutu ever had witnessed before, both Ferodia and Tifum were struck speechless for a moment; but Ferodia broke the silence at last with fiery accents, saying: "Tifum, dost thou hear me? Lay that stubborn ass down on his face and cut his back for me with thy whip. Beat, beat, and spare not." But Selim waited to hear no more. Ferodia had but begun his cruel order when the latent Bedouin spirit of resistance electrified him. His arm felt surcharged with the impulse to strike, and his hand, weighted with hate, was shot full in the face of Tifum, who reeled as if he had been struck with a knob-stick. Then with a light bound he sprang from the circle, sending a mocking laugh into Ferodia's ears as he flew towards the King's house, which had been pointed out to him on his first arrival, shouting "Kalulu! Simba, to me! To me, Simba! Kalulu!" He had reached the threshold of the King's house when he felt an arm on his shoulder. He turned around; it was Tifum! Rage had given the man a quickened sense and speed to his feet, even superior to the fear which hurried the feet of Selim away. The strong hand crushed the weakened frame of the youth to the ground for the execution of the cruel sentence of Ferodia, and his brain was fast whirling with the terror which possessed him, when he heard a shout--a roar of rage--behind him, and at the same time the force with which he was being compelled to the ground relaxed. Simba was seen bearing down upon the party with irresistible power. He saw for an instant how the gigantic form of his friend and protector dilated, as he had seen it in the battle of Kwikuru; he saw the powerful muscular arms, with their wealth of sinew and muscle, and the eyes glowing with the ferocity of a beast of prey: only an instant, for Simba was before Tifum, face to face with the monster who had striped the son of Amer, and there was no time to think before he saw Tifum's body in the air, nor time to utter the thought of pardon which he wished to say, before he saw the man dashed with the force of a cannon ball against the body of warriors who had hurried up to lend assistance to Tifum--laying half a dozen of them prostrate on the ground. Ferodia had seen the giant form of Simba hurrying to the rescue of the white slave, and comprehending at a glance that something would happen, he snatched his spear and started after him. But he had never imagined that such a thing as he saw could have been done by living man; and the wonder of it all paralysed his arm, which tingled but a moment before to send his spear through the man's body. While Ferodia thus stood, lost in wonder at such human power, three new-comers had appeared on the scene--Moto, who had hurried after Ferodia, and stood behind him, seemingly careless and unconcerned; Kalulu and Katalambula, the King, who appeared on the threshold, the former of whom had dragged Selim behind him. Katalambula, though old and on the verge of infirmity, could demean himself royally enough upon occasions; and this was one of them evidently; for he advanced and stood before Simba and Ferodia, spear in hand, with a bearing seldom witnessed. "What means this, Ferodia?" he asked in a cool, quiet tone. "It means, O King, that I sent Tifum to catch that runaway slave who deserted me in the great forest; that the slave ran towards thy house, and Tifum ran after him, only to meet with this man, who caught up Tifum as if he had been a piece of wood, and sent him flying against those warriors of mine, who are now picking themselves up." "Indeed! Who art thou? Oh, I remember, thou art the friend of the stranger who saved Kalulu in Urori! Thou art very strong." Then turning toward the group which had been prostrated, he asked if any of them had been hurt. One replied that he felt a pain in the chest, another that he could not breathe; one felt his head swim, another a pain in the abdomen; one felt a lump in his throat, another replied that he had a sore back; while Tifum declared he felt bruised all over, and all looked at Simba with terror. Ferodia now advanced, and made as if he would lay a hand on Selim; but Kalulu interposed his slight form with a drawn bow and fixed arrow in his hand, and a dangerous glitter in his eyes. "Keep away, Ferodia; or, by the grave of Mostana my father, I will send this arrow through thy body." "What ails thee, boy? Is not one white slave enough for thee, that thou wouldst deprive me of the other? I made him captive with my bow and spear at Olimali's village. Stand aside." "Go away, I tell thee! This `slave' of thine is now my brother. The blood ceremony has been made. Who injures him injures me; and I am Kalulu, adopted son of Katalambula." "Well, if he is thy brother, keep him; but give me the other white slave in his place," replied Ferodia. "Thou hast given him to my father. My father has given him to me. I am too poor in white slaves to be able to give thee any. I have but one slave, for the other is my brother." "Katalambula," said Ferodia, "this is injustice. White slaves are not caught every day. I must have one of them." "We may not disregard the laws of brotherhood, Ferodia," said the King, mildly. "When Kalulu made the white boy his brother he made him a Mtuta, and all the Watuta are free men. Thou gavest me the other, and I gave him to Kalulu. It is not our custom to return gifts, thou knowest, Ferodia. But take thou three Wabena men at my hand instead, and be friends with Kalulu." "No, no, no!" said Ferodia, in a burst of anger. "Thou art unjust, Katalambula, to one who fought for thee with such success, and brought thee so much wealth. I depart at once; and thou," said he warningly to Kalulu, "do thou beware of me; eagle's wings have been clipped ere now, and young lions tamed. Ferodia is king over his own tribe." "Ferodia," said Kalulu with a sneer, "I fear thee not. I know thee for a bad man; and were it not for my father thou shouldst not leave this village, for I should garnish the gate with thy skull." "Peace, boy!" cried Katalambula, "and do not make bad worse with thy saucy tongue. And thou, Ferodia, heed him not; remember, he is but a young boy. But it is thou who art unjust, not I. Hast thou not received a fourth of all thou didst bring me? Hast thou forgotten the slaves, the cloth, the powder, and guns I gave thee? Whose were the warriors with whom the battle was won at Kwikuru? Who sent thee there but I? Go home if thou must, and peace be with thee." Ferodia left the party, but not before he had again menaced Kalulu, which menace that young chief returned with interest. Within an hour he had departed from the village with his warriors, slaves, and property, breathing revenge and hatred, fuming and storming at the slaves, and sarcastically bitter to the bruised and discomfited Tifum Byah. Katalambula was angry also with Kalulu; but the latter, though forward enough when Ferodia, of whom he was intensely jealous, was concerned, knew the ways of the old man well; and, unmindful of his frowns, he went up and embraced him, and accompanied him towards his house. "Oh, my uncle, and father!" cried Kalulu, "why dost thou not say a kind word to my white brother? Is he not a handsome brother? Look at his eyes; they are like the young kalulu when it looks at the hunter in fear. Speak to him, ah, do. Think of that horrid Tifum Byah beating him! I am so sorry I did not drive an arrow through him. He is a wicked man, verily, and is properly named Byah. He would cut my head off readily if Ferodia commanded him." "And thou art the new brother of my boy Kalulu, art thou, pale-faced boy?" asked Katalambula, stopping in front of Selim. "Kalulu has been very good to me," said Selim, looking up gratefully towards that youth. "He has been pleased to call me his brother." "Yes," said Katalambula. "Kalulu is a good boy--a good boy--he loves the old King, too. I believe he has a kind heart for those he loves, but he is hot, hot as fire, when anybody crosses him. Take care he does not kill and eat you," he added, smiling, and passing on towards his house. "But, father," said Kalulu in a whisper, "thou seest he is naked, except that rag. He is the son of an Arab chief, and is not accustomed to our ways. Thou art rich in cloth. Canst thou not give him something to cover his nakedness?" "What need he cover his nakedness, boy? He looks fair and clean enough without anything. He is not a girl. I am sure if I had a white skin I would rather be naked to show it," chuckled the old man, looking at Selim. "But, father, he has told me himself that he feels ashamed of being without cloth. His people never go out unless they are covered from head to foot. It is against their custom, and there is a book written by the Sky-spirit, which tells them not to be without clothes." "Well, well, do as thou wilt. Give him four doti (sixteen yards), and let him cover himself from head to foot if he wants to, though I think it all folly, all nonsense." "Thou art good, very good, father," cried the delighted Kalulu, leaping about the old man. "Ah, yes, I know I am good," replied Katalambula, "especially when I let thee have thy own way. There, go now. I am sleepy and tired." Kalulu left the old man, and, proceeding to the store-room, extracted the four doti he was permitted to take; one of blue cotton, one of white, one coloured barsati, and one fine sohari, which he rolled into a bundle, and covered with a goatskin, and conveyed to his hut, where he found Simba, Moto, Abdullah, and Selim. When he had seated himself, he asked Selim: "What book is that thou wert talking of to me yesterday?" "It is the Kuran," replied Selim, "written by a holy man, sent by the Sky-spirit to tell men how to conduct themselves on earth, so they may enter the good place called Paradise." "What is the Sky-spirit like?" "No man, since that great man, has seen him; he is a spirit, and cannot be seen," replied Selim. "Why do the pale-faces obey a thing that cannot be seen?" "Because the holy man, Mohammed, who wrote his words down, has given us all we want to know. The holy man saw him, and wrote his words faithfully down." "Is Mommed alive now?" asked Kalulu. "Oh no! He has been dead ever so long, many, many years. So many as one hundred sultans of Ututa have lived and died since Mohammed--not Mommed--died," answered Selim. "Where is this Paradise to which the good men go? I am good. Shall I go to Paradise?" asked Kalulu, with a smile. "Paradise is away, up, far, far above the clouds. No man is permitted to go there except he is a true believer, who believes in God, Mohammed, and the Kuran." "And where shall I go when I die?" "If thou diest without believing, thou shalt go to the place which is reserved for such as were ignorant, and were not taught the true word. It is far from Paradise." "Hum! it is not as good as Paradise, then?" asked Kalulu. "No." "The Sky-spirit is wicked," said Kalulu. "He sends a holy man called Mommed to tell good words to the white peoples, and prepares a nice place for them. For it is easy to believe, when people are taught what to believe. But the black peoples, they see no holy man. Nobody comes to tell them anything; but because they are ignorant they are sent to a bad place. Bah! the Sky-spirit is very wicked; he is unjust; I don't want to see him, because I shall not die; I won't die." Selim had here a fine chance to deliver a sermon, and make a proselyte, but he was too young to take advantage of the opportunity; besides, he did not want to make his new brother angry or more rebellious than sheer ignorance made him already. "But, Selim, tell me; why do thy people wear clothes? Why do you not go about without clothes, as we do?" "Because it is wrong; it is not decent. The good book says `Thou shalt restrain thine eyes, and do no immodest action.' It is immodest to expose the person. Beasts are clothed with fur and hair, fowls with feathers; men cover themselves with clothes. Is man so poor that when he sees all things clothed--the rocks with earth, the earth with trees, the trees with foliage, the beasts of the forest with hair and fur, the birds with feathers, the fish with scales, that he himself who owns all these things shall have nothing?" "Well, Selim, thou shall; not be immodest any more while thou art with me. I have brought thee and Abdullah cloth. Am I not good now, and shall I not go to Paradise?" "Thou shalt have all things, Kalulu, when thou wilt become a true believer," answered Selim, clapping his hands with joy and gratitude at Kalulu's delicate kindness. "What dost thou say, Simba? and thou, Moto? Abdullah? We shall be sons of Arabs, and true believers now, eh?" "I shall be so proud of these clothes, I will not know myself," said Abdullah, as he folded around his body a brand new shukkah (two yards) with the skill of one who knew the art of wearing shukkahs. Another shukkah was thrown over his shoulders, while a piece of snowy cloth, a foot wide and a yard long, was folded around his head, and he stood up to be admired, his pleased and sparkling black eyes mutely inviting his friends to express their pleasure at the transformation. "Why, Abdullah!" exclaimed Simba. "Wallahi! but thou lookest better in the negro costume of Zanzibar than thou didst in the braided gold jacket and embroidered shirt of Sheikh Mohammed's son; and thou too, Selim. I think I see my young master once more himself. Fine sohari and fine barsati in Ututa! Who would believe it?" "Ay," said Moto, "my young master and Abdullah, having covered themselves, will forget their misery and vexation, and grow fat and happy. After this I shall always look out for young chiefs in danger, to help them, hoping they will all turn out to be as good as Kalulu has been." "Now that we are all so happy and good, I propose to my new brother Selim and my white slave Abdullah, who is now no more a slave than I am, that we take a canoe to-morrow, and go down the Liemba to spear hippopotamus and crocodiles; for you must see the Watuta at home in their sports, and we must, by-and-bye, go to the great forest several days south of where thou wert found, Selim, to have a grand elephant hunt. What do ye say, Selim--Abdullah?" "I shall be delighted," answered Selim. "And I too," responded Abdullah. "Then it is settled; eh, Simba and Moto?" "Yes," those faithfuls replied. At dawn, the time prescribed, the party set out for the river, two warriors accompanying them, bearing the paddles for the canoe. Simba and Moto carried their guns, Kalulu carried the one given him by Selim at the brotherhood ceremony, besides his spear, while Selim and Abdullah carried guns which Kalulu had procured them from the King's store-room, with the King's permission. Arriving at the river, the party found a large number of idlers there already, who had collected to see their young chief and his white slaves, as Selim and Abdullah were called, set off. Some of them wondered that Kalulu should so soon take his slaves away on a pleasure excursion, but they said nothing, the majority of them thinking that he took them with him as gun-bearers. Several of the Watuta offered to accompany Kalulu in his canoe, but he waived them off peremptorily, saying he had enough with him. Soon after Kalulu had taken his seat in the stern with Selim and Abdullah, Simba, Moto, and the two warriors, taking each a paddle, shot the canoe into mid-river; then with dexterous strokes they pointed her head down stream, to the music of a boatman's song. Each man industriously plied his paddle, and Katalambula's village receded from view. This mode of journeying the two Arab boys, having nothing to do but to sit down and enjoy the scenery, thought much preferable to the continual march of the caravan; and the contrast was certainly great to that bitter experience they had endured on the journey from Kwikuru in Urori to Katalambula with the heavy-handed and callous-souled Tifum. They looked on with delight at the brown river and the tiny billows of brown foam which the stout canoe made with her broad bow; at the dense sedge and brake of cane which lined the river's banks, wherein, now and then, was heard a heavy splash, as the drowsy crocodile, alarmed by the approaching crew, leaped into his liquid home; at the great tall trees which now and then were passed, out of which the canoes of the Watuta are made; at the enormous sycamore, with its vast globe of branch and leaf, affording grateful shade to beast and bird; at the brown cones, the habitations of men, encircled by their strong palisades; at the grain-fields, which shimmered and waved gaily before the tepid southern wind; and at lengthy, straight, far-reaching vistas of river and wooded banks which were revealed to them as they glided down the Liemba. "Happy hour!" thought Selim. "Would it might last ever, or at least until I reached my own home and mother at Zanzibar!" "Hail, joyous day!" thought Abdullah. "Give joy to all men, as I have joy. Be still joyous, to-morrow and the day after, until mine eyes shall once more rest on the blue wares of the Indian Sea." The two boys looked into each other's eyes; the look was interpreted aright by each, and tears crept into the corners of their eyes, and rolled down their faces in still drops--still as the joy which caused them. About two hours before noon the canoe touched an island; and, disembarking, the party proceeded to select a nice place to rest for an hour, and to refresh themselves with the lunch, consisting of dried meat, smoked fish, and, a potful of cold porridge they had brought with them. Just as the hour had transpired, a hoarse, deep bellow woe heard close by, which caused the entire party to start to their feet and glide to the edge of the island, whence they saw a herd of hippopotami quietly enjoying the cool deep waters near a place where the river began a sharp curve at the other end of the island. "Good!" cried Kalulu; "one--three--fire hippopotami! Now for sport. My white brother, canst thou swim?" he asked Selim. "Yes; why?" "Because, if thou cannot, 'twere better that thou shouldst stay here. Can Abdullah swim?" "Very well," replied Abdullah for himself. "Then come on to the canoe at once. But stop; ye both had better doff your shoulder-cloths, and roll the lower clothe far up the hip; ye may have to swim, for a hippopotamus sometimes charges on the canoe, or kicks it viciously, and then down ye go to the bottom. If it should happen this time, dive down to the bottom of the river at once, and make off under the water towards the island. The hippopotamus is very apt to cut a man in two if he catches him. The animals are now coming up the river; we will wait for them, and when they have gone above us a little way we can sally out from our hiding-place, and give it to them. Do ye understand?" "Perfectly," both answered; while Simba and Moto, rolling their cloths tight around their hips and loins, nodded their approval of what Kalulu had said. Having done what the sage young chief had advised, Selim and Abdullah accompanied _him_ to the canoe; Simba and Moto took their paddles in their hands, while the two warriors, who were famous for their harpooning, prepared the instrument which they intended to drive into the first animal nearest to them. This instrument was similar in shape to the harpoons which whalers use for destroying the whales, except that it was not half as neat or sharp. It had a long, heavy staff, and had once been used to pound corn into flour by some woman, as was evident by its close grain and polish, showing that it was hard and heavy, and had been of frequent use. To its pointed end was a broad, heavy, and barbed spear, well sharpened and polished, around the handle of which was fastened the end of a long rope, of native manufacture, made of the bark of the baobab tree. While the harpooneers were quietly preparing themselves, Kalulu pointed the two Arab boys through a thin edge of cane which hid the boat from the approaching animals, as they came up slowly and unsuspectingly abreast of the place where they lay. What magnificent beasts they were! What splendid and powerful necks they had! The best prize-bull ever fattened on English grass might have been ashamed of his breadth of neck had such as these been exhibited side by side with him. Unaware of the danger that lay in wait for them, they came up to breathe quickly and boldly, and by so doing exposed nearly all their heads and necks. On the backs of their powerful necks the colour was that of a bright reddish yellow, which also tinged their heads over the eyes and the ears, and broad patches of this colour were also seen on the cheeks. In appearance the head bore a striking similarity to the head of a large and powerful horse; especially did the bold and prominent eyes, the short pointed ears, and noble curve of neck aid the comparison; but at the nose it was more like that of an ox. The name of this enormous and apparently unwieldy animal, by which he is known to us, is hippopotamus, from the Greek words--hippos, a horse; potamos, a river. Had the Greek travellers been better acquainted with the appearance of this animal they might have called it river-cow, or river-hog. It is only when his head is half-submerged that we can correctly designate him as a river-horse. Once we see his nose and mouth, we are apt to call him a river-cow; but when he is once well out of the water, and we see his heavy body and short legs, we would say immediately that he was more like an over-fat hog than either cow or horse. The hippopotamus has four equal toes on each foot, inclosed in hoofs. The unwary beasts rose and sank not many feet from the canoe for the last time while they were abreast of the canoe; and, at the word given by Kalulu, Simba and Moto dipped their paddles, and sent the boat into the stream bow forward, the harpooneer entrusted with the duty of striking standing rigid with uplifted weapon, ready for the blow. A minute thus he stood, and all eyes were fixed expectant, when at the bow rose the monstrous head and neck of a bull hippopotamus, and at the same moment the harpoon was shot straight and deep into his neck, while the bright blood gushed upward in streams. The stricken animal sounded immediately, while the water was lashed into foam by his struggles, and soon the canoe was moving up the river at terrific speed, while the water rose in high, brown waves at the bow. Presently the speed slackened, and the canoe began to float down the stream. "Pull back! pull back!" shouted the harpooneer, and at the same time he tossed the buoyant gourd, to which he had fastened the end of the rope hitherto attached to the boat by a round turn around a cleat, into the water. Responsive to the cry, Simba and Moto dashed their paddles into the water; but they were too late, for they felt the boat lifted up bodily out of the water, and the crew, losing their equilibrium, staggered on one side, which completely turned the canoe over, and precipitated them into the water. The three boys, Kalulu, Selim, and Abdullah, instinctively, as they felt the canoe lifted out of the water, rose to their feet with their guns in their hands, and when it was assumed beyond doubt that it would turn over, sprang into the water in different directions, and dived to the bottom, dragging themselves toward their island beneath, by clutching the tenacious mud. For some time the wounded hippopotamus remained master of the field, and no enemy appearing in sight, he sank, uttering a horrible bellow as he disappeared out of sight. Immediately after, Selim appeared above the surface, more than twenty yards from the scene of the disaster, and swimming vigorously towards the island, which he soon gained in safety. Then appeared Abdullah, about ten yards from the bank; Kalulu close to the shore, with Simba, and Moto, and the two warriors close to him. In a second they stood on the shore, Kalulu minus his gun, but having his sharp spear in his hand; the two warriors had also retained their spears, while Simba and Moto had their guns in their hands, and their long broad knives in their waists. As soon as they had regained the shore, and stood on dry land, the party began to cheer the youthful straggler, Abdullah, and to encourage him to greater exertions. He was within five yards of the bank, and Simba and Moto were already stretching their guns to him to grasp, when suddenly Abdullah's smiling face assumed a look of terror, and a wild, thrilling shriek was uttered by him, which was silenced instantly by the brown waters closing over his head; and the calm, placid river flowed on, and no swimmer was seen disturbing its surface. For the shortest possible instant, all hands seemed turned into stone; not a sound nor a breath was heard, until Kalulu was heard uttering the terrible and awful word, "mamba!"--crocodile. Simba and Moto then breathed, and confused murmurs were heard from all. "Save him!" cried Selim; "oh, save poor Abdullah!" There was no need to utter the prayer; for young Kalulu had divested himself of his wet loin-cloth, had broken the staff of the spear he held short off, close to the sharp head, and with the latter grasped firmly in his hand, had plunged head-foremost, unconscious, as it were, of the imminent danger of the hazardous undertaking, into the water, where Abdullah was last seen. Kalulu's feet had but disappeared beneath the water, when Simba and Moto, dropping their guns, divested themselves of their loin-cloths, and, grasping their long heavy knives, sprang in likewise, and the river, disturbed for but a short second, flowed on as before, with its silent, still flow. It seemed an age to Selim, who stood on the bank with clasped hands, and cowering form, a prey to the keenest anxiety for the fate of all his friends, who had disappeared beneath the treacherous face of the river. Yet thirty seconds could not have passed before the deep, brown water was again disturbed, this time in a violent manner, while it began to be slightly discoloured with, blood, and the crocodile's tail shot suddenly above the surface, lashing the water into foam, and immediately after, Abdullah's head; then Kalulu, Simba, and Moto simultaneously appeared above, making for the shore with all haste. As they reached the shore, Kalulu was seen supporting, with his hand beneath the hip, the body of Abdullah, who seemed to have lost consciousness. The ready hands of the two warriors dragged the almost lifeless body, as it reached the bank, and laid it carefully a few feet from the river, on the ground, while Kalulu, wringing his long braids clear of water, and drawing the draggled ostrich feathers from his head, uttered a ringing peal of laughter, and then said in a triumphant tone to Selim: "We were too much for the mamba, Selim. He did not get my slave Abdullah this time!" "Ah, thou art so brave, so good, Kalulu!" while grateful tears ran down his cheeks, as he sprang forward to embrace the young hero. "I shall never, never forget thee! I would not miss thy friendship for the world! Thou hast twice saved me--once from death, and another time from the hands of the cruel Tifum. Thou hast still more increased my love for thee, my brave brother, by rescuing Abdullah from the jaws of that horrid mamba. How shall I thank thee, my Kalulu? How shall I praise thee? Thou art swifter than an eagle, braver than a lion, comelier than any of the sons of men! Thine eyes are more tender than a gazelle's to thy friends, fiercer than the greedy leopard's, when it scents the blood of its prey, to thy enemies. Thou art tall as a palm-tree, straight as the hardened shaft of a spear, grace breathes in every movement of thy limbs. Thou hast saved the life of my playmate--even the life of Abdullah, the Arab boy. The dark grey waters had closed over his young head, his voice had been silenced in the deep, when thou, O Kalulu, didst leap in--a true hero!--to do battle with the scaly monster in behalf of Abdullah, my friend, and playmate of my happy childhood. I saw the waters hiss and foam, as the monster battled with thee for his prey. The victory was given to thee; Allah made thine arm strong, thine heart brave; for Abdullah, my friend, was brought back from death to life, from the dark waters to the sunlight, from the grave to the light of day. O Kalulu! if a fatherless boy is beloved by Allah, my prayer shall go up to God night and day for thee; if a true believer may intercede with Heaven, then wilt thou be blessed, and the soul of Abdullah's dead father shall cry for thee before the holy footstool of Allah!" "Ah, Selim!" replied Kalulu, embracing him in return, "has Kalulu, the son of Mostana, pleased thee? then is Kalulu rewarded. Kalulu is thy brother, and his heart is soft towards Selim, and to the Arab boy, for thy sake. Thou art good--there is no guile in thee. Kalulu is also good, but he has seen wicked men; and when a wicked man draws nigh to him, Kalulu's heart is black, and bitter, and his spear comes quickly to his hand. His eyes search out the good; they found the good in thee, and Kalulu's heart went to thee as thou didst lie like an antelope stricken to death in the forest. I shall love all Arabs for thy sake for ever. There shall be bad blood no more between us. For as good as thou art am I good, and as I am good, so art thou. Where I shall he, there shalt thou be, and where thou wilt be, there shall I be, until thou canst return in safety to thine own land. And when thou goest, do thou but remember thy brother Kalulu, and but whisper his name, then our Sky-spirit shall send the wind to bear thy whisper to me. Come, let us see how poor Abdullah fares." Proceeding to the spot where the still unconscious form of Abdullah lay, they found that the crocodile had snatched the young swimmer by the right leg, just below the knee, where his cruel sharp teeth had pierced to the bone, leaving ugly marks behind him. "How didst thou find the crocodile, Kalulu?" "Oh, I sprang to the place where I saw thy friend sink, and by good luck I came upon the crocodile's back. The crocodile having dragged the boy down, let go of his leg, and laid on top of him. When the crocodile felt me on his back, he turned round savagely, but without leaving his prey. I had no time to stop talking with him, or to ask him to give me Abdullah back, because I knew he wouldn't; and besides, I didn't go to ask him, for it is very close down there, and there is no air. So I felt for his foreleg, and while I stabbed him behind, I felt my two friends, Moto and Simba, who perhaps thought that I was the crocodile, though my hide is not quite so rough as the hide of him. When the fellow felt the keen point of my spear in his heart, he rolled off Abdullah, and began to kick and lash with his tail in a dreadful way, and losing my spear, I caught hold of Abdullah by the leg, and came up. That's how it was." "And what didst thou, too, Simba?" asked Selim, turning to his friend. "When I went down, I caught hold of Moto's hand, and diving, I touched Kalulu, but I knew at once that he was not the crocodile, for his skin is as soft as a child's; the next minute I got hold of the crocodile's leg, though he was kicking and laying about him furiously, and I let go Moto's hand, who got hold of another leg. I buried my knife in the crocodile's belly several times, and he swam away, leaving his inside dragging after him, while I came up to find Kalulu, Abdullah, and Moto right close to me. I think the crocodile has got more than he thought he would get, and that he will leave Abdullah alone in future." "Do you think Abdullah will come to soon?" "Oh yes," replied Simba; "he has swallowed a little too much water, or he has fainted from the pain. See now, Master Selim, he breathes! There, his eyes are open!" Abdullah had only fainted, as Simba said, and this was the reason why the crocodile had so soon released his hold of his leg, and had lain on him. When he opened his eyes, Abdullah gave a long sigh, and asked where he was, to which a cheery answer was returned; and presently he talked, and discussed the event calmly, but not before he had endeavoured to kiss the feet of his saviour, which Kalulu had too much manliness to accept; but he knelt down by him and embraced him, while Abdullah availed himself of the opportunity, and kissed his forehead. Abdullah having in a measure recovered, the two warriors were sent to hunt after the canoe, which fortunately was found, stayed in its progress by the reeds, at a point of the island projecting into the current; and, to their great joy, close to the canoe was the gourd to which was fastened the harpoon rope. Giving vent to a loud halloo, Simba, Moto, and Kalulu rushed towards them, and by their united aid they dragged the body of the dead hippopotamus to shallow water, and setting vigorously to work, they soon loaded their canoe with the luscious flesh, it being a food highly prized by the tribes of Central Africa. By the time this work was despatched, it was night, and the hunters, lifting the wounded Abdullah into the canoe, and having a clear course up the river towards home, they started on their return journey, feeling as proud as men who have been successful in a dangerous exploit only can feel. They sang over and over again exciting hunting and boat songs with vociferous chorus, until midnight, when the fishermen's fires, near Katalambula's village, gladdened their eyes and made them rejoice as home-returned wanderers generally do. CHAPTER NINE. SELIM--HAPPY DAYS--THE LOVER'S SONG--THE MAGIC DOCTOR SOLTALI--KALULU PROPOSES TO HUNT ELEPHANTS--PREPARATIONS FOR A DANCE--THE HUNTING-SONG-- THE ELEPHANT HUNTERS SET OUT--THE SCENES ON THE MARCH--THE HUNTERS' DAMP--TEN ELEPHANTS!--KALULU ADDRESSES THE KING ELEPHANT--THE KING ELEPHANT DIES--SELIM'S CONDUCT IN THE FIELD--KALULU IS ASTONISHED AT SELIM'S PROWESS. Selim was now happy; and next to being able to reach his own Zanjian Isle, and revisit the scenes of his childhood, and romp, as of yore, with the playmates of his youth, and enjoy walks through the orange-groves with young Abdullah, he could not have chosen for himself a more tranquil life than that which he now enjoyed with his friend and new brother, Kalulu. For the bright Liemba River was beautiful, though brown; its crisp little wavelets, where they washed over stone and pebble in the shallower parts, had music for him, though he never forgot that horrible scene near the island, when the smiling face of Abdullah changed into one of horror and sank down into the depths, with his shriek echoing through the woods. The banks of the Liemba became for him a frequent resort, for Kalulu had made it generally known to all that he was his brother, and no Mtuta under the King Katalambula might molest him. Hence, he wandered where he pleased, finding charms in the wild woods, and in the depths of waving grain, in the peaceful, still life that reigned around, in the music of the birds, and even in the harsh cries of paroquets. The Selim, the brother of Kalulu, was not the Selim of Zanzibar, but was the product of him, refined and pure from the fiery crucible of the unusual hardships he had endured. It was the same boy, but not the same heart. He, whom we knew at Zanzibar, the gay, light-hearted, sunny youth, playing with the females in the harem and his playmates on the beach, but ever listening in wonder to the great, wise words and sayings of white men, was changed for the dreamy boy with the poet's heart, who chose solitudes, forests, and the depths of tall corn-stalks to indulge in reverie, which we are too apt to ascribe to melancholy. Perhaps it was melancholy, a tender, soft melancholy, engendered by many reminiscences of a mournful nature, crowding together in the mind of a boy who had suffered much, but who had seen but few years. There was the death of a loving father and loving kinsmen, the tragic fate of Isa and Mussoud, the most narrow escape he had himself from death, and poor Abdullah's narrow escape from a horrible fate. These were not the best kind of subjects to dwell in the mind of a boy of Selim's years; but what aided to soften all these, and did much to lighten his burden, was his present position, the tender friendship of Kalulu, the company of the gentle Abdullah, the calm tranquillity of the life he was now enjoying, and the consciousness--which his perfect trust in the goodness of God created--that there was a God above, who was both good and great, and who would bring him in his own good time out of all trouble. For many days Abdullah suffered from the wounds which the crocodile's sharp teeth had made in his leg. High fever set in, during which time he was attended by Simba, and Moto, Kalulu, and Selim. All sport was at an end for Selim and Kalulu while their friend Abdullah was thus suffering. Nothing of enjoyment was thought of, nothing could be thought of but their poor young patient, whose constitution was battling vigorously against the fever which threatened often to terminate his life. And what a time poor Abdullah had! Instead of the soft, silken counterpane and feathered bolsters, and the fragrance of lime and orange of his own comfortable home at Zanzibar, here were a mud-hut, low roof of straw and mud, a goatskin for his bed, a low door of cane-stalks, through which the white sunlight streamed hot and glaring, voices of a thousand rats for music, and the bad smells caused by the indecent habits of savages, for the perfume of ripe orange and cinnamon. All these aggravated the fever and created hideous dreams at night. For food he had a thin gruel, which Simba made for him to the best of his ability; for drink, the muddy water of the Liemba or some pombe-beer. Despite these, however, his constitution triumphed; the fever left him, and the wounded leg, carefully bathed each morning by Simba, began to heal. When convalescent, Abdullah would leave his hut at evening, pale and thin as a ghost, leaning on the arm of his true friends, Kalulu and Selim, to enjoy the mild air, and to listen to the songs of the Watuta, and the sonorous music of the drums. The sight of the pale and thin Arab boy touched the heart of many a maternal bosom, and many were the expressions of condolence which he received from them. He often heard these dark-faced women utter expressions which he had never thought at Zanzibar could ever be uttered by black women; and he was rapidly beginning to learn that women are the same all over the world, whether they are white or black, and that human love and kindness belong as much to the black as to the white, and are as often practised. And the outcast, despised negro race were rising daily in his estimation. Neither was Selim indifferent to the tones of sympathy he heard from them; not only did Kalulu win his friendship more and more each day, but the whole negro race was being admitted into his brotherhood. These were really happy days. Abdullah was improving each day, and Selim was fast becoming as joyous a companion as Kalulu could desire. Inspired by the invigorating sound of the drums, and the lively chorus, he was compelled to leave the side of Abdullah and join in the dance. A favourite song of the Watuta was the boatmen's song, which seemed interminable; but the chorus was so pretty, and had such a sweet, pathetic melody, that Selim joined with pleasure in it for its pathos. The first and second verses ran somewhat in this strain:-- Down the brown Liemba, The home of fierce Mamba [crocodiles], We are gliding. With sudden stroke and song The boat is sent along, Swiftly gliding. We fear no fierce mamba In the deep Liemba While we are gliding; Nor bush nor thickest brake, Nor foe that would us take-- Swiftly gliding. The fifth, seventh, and eighth verses are descriptive of the scenery on the Liemba:-- By waving fields of grain. With song and loud refrain, We are gliding; While women hoe the corn Till eve from dewy morn-- Swiftly gliding. Lo! Isle of Ihata, Blest Isle of Liemba, By which we are gliding. The isle was long ago Blest by great Moshono-- Softly gliding. Near that tree on yon plain Died Moshono in pain-- We are gliding-- Burnt by dread Warungu, Who fear no Malungu-- Softly gliding. The ninth verse is somewhat superstitious:-- Sole on that lofty rock Lives Moshono's sacred cock. We are gliding. Now, boatmen, here cease to row, Bad luck, to hear no crow!-- Softly gliding. As I have said, the boat song is almost interminable; it describes every view on that beautiful river, each tradition that surrounds the hills, and memorable sites of battles fought and victories won; for it is thus that our history was kept before writing was known to us. Another song, which was a favourite with the young men and maidens of Katalambula's village, describes what love-making is known to the Watuta. For this reason only is it valuable, as illustrative of the mode of marriage. The following verses are sufficient as an example:-- Canst thou love me as I love thee? Wilt thou not come and live with me? My father talked with thine to-day, Thy father did not tell him "Nay." Said he, "Bring me two score of sheep; Bring me pombe in pots thus deep; Bring me ten goats of the best class, Thy son may take my pretty lass." I've built my hut of sedgy cane, The well-thatched roof keeps out the rain, The floor is spread with river sand, The latch waits lifting by thy hand. Thy husband calls, do not delay: Come to his house ere end of day; Put now thy hand in mine and come, Come to Kiranga's heart and home. Selim and Abdullah heard numbers of these during the period of the latter's convalescence, and were constantly amused by them. To sit under the great tree in the centre of the square, to hear the music of the drums, to hear the songs sung, and to see the people dance, was like going to a theatrical entertainment with us. Kalulu often sat with them, but not for long; the exhilarating influence of the music produced such an effect on his feet and legs, that while listening to it he found himself unable to restrain them. As Abdullah got better and became able to move about during the day, Kalulu used to take him and Selim to the great Maganga, or magic doctor, to enjoy the conversation of the wise man of the tribe. This doctor must have been at least eighty years old, for he remembered Katalambula as a child, and knew Mostana, Kalulu's father, and remembered the "great, great" King Loralamba, father of Katalambula and Mostana. This was very old history to Kalulu, who could not conceive the number of years that had elapsed since Loralamba's death, though the time could only have been between forty and fifty years. The doctor, whose name was Soltali, knew any amount of things that no other man knew. He remembered the time when the Northern Watuta, who now live north of the Malagarazi River, separated from the Southern Watuta, over whom Katalambula was chief ruler, for some pique that the younger brother had against Loralamba. He remembered many wars that had taken place between the Watuta and Wabena, and remembered well the incident of which the boatmen sang as they travelled down the Liemba, viz., the burning of Moshono, a great doctor, who lived on the island of Ihata. The Warungu came in great numbers, and were conquering wherever they went, until they came opposite Ihata. Then their cattle died, and their warriors died of a horrible disease which Moshono punished them with. Finally, however, they got across the river and landed on the island; the village was taken, and Moshono was carried to the plain opposite the island, and burnt alive near a great tree. But it seemed as if the Sky-spirit heard the words of Moshono, and stirred up the Watuta--all; every man who could bear a sword and spear--against the Warungu, and a few days after, the Watuta, under Loralamba, rushed on their camp at night, and there was an exceeding great slaughter. Only a few Warungu escaped, and since then they had settled quietly in their own country, south of the Lake Liemba, many days' march from Katalambula's. Soltali was rich in this history, which, alas! is never destined to see the light; a history that were a man disposed to write it for the mere love of giving it to the world, and instructing it in the past life of this obscure corner of the world, might enlighten the learned of all countries in much that concerns the great races of Central Africa. Soltali's hut was a veritable museum; but it bore a striking resemblance to the rich men's houses in England and America in this respect. What ducal castle or baronial hall is there, in England, but has its collection of deer, antelope, and buffalo horns; its stuffed lions; its tigers, etc. etc.? What rich man's house is there in America which has not some trophy of its master's hunting prowess? Soltali had his trophies, though, owing to his pitiable ignorance of taste, book knowledge, etc, etc, his trophies were not arranged as a Schwartzenberg of Austria or a Duke of Sutherland arrange theirs. There were horns upon horns of antelope, kudu, hartebeest, black buck, springbok, gemsbok, gnu, buffalo, and rhinoceros, and tusks upon tusks of polished ivory. But the great store of curiosities that he set the greatest value upon consisted of tails of elephants, horns of giraffes, eyelids of zebras, tusks of boars, paws of lions, nose-hairs and whiskers of leopards, claws of eagles, beaks of bustards and kites, wings of ostriches, scales of fish, dried eyes of ibis; all wrapped up in pieces of goatskin, each separate the one from the other. He had a great number of little gourds, filled with the calcined heads of the various animals he had ever killed, and smaller gourds, like phials, filled with the burnt brains of men whom he had killed in war. There were so many brains of Warungu, Wabena, Wasowa, Wakawendi, Wawemba, Warori, Wanyamwezi, Wamwite, Wakanyara, Wakokoro, and a number of other smaller tribes; for in his prime, when he fought side by side with Loralamba, the "great, great" King, Soltali's spear was heavy, sharp, and sure. Poor, ancient Soltali! who shall sing thy praises? Who shall tell the wide, wide world all the deeds done by thy mighty hands? Where is the Homer who shall arise and sing of thy prowess? Homer, and Virgil, and Tasso, De Ercilla, and Camoens are dead, and we have none left capable of conveying thy name to future generations. But be content, old man; this page, at least, of this little book will tell a few of the growing generation of true-hearted American and British youths, that such a man did once live as thee, oh, Soltali! and, perhaps, in an obscure corner of the British Museum, thyself and wondrous museum of monstrosities shall, embodied as it were in this page, rest a few years until they become a heap of dead, unintelligible dust! At the end of about two months, Abdullah was so far recovered as to be able to go about alone, without the aid of any of his friends; but he had an unconquerable antipathy to the banks of the Liemba. The brown waters of this river, in which he was so very near being engulphed, inspired him with a nauseous aversion, having something of the effect of tartar emetic on his stomach, and he never dared, as Selim often did, to wander along its banks alone. When he became tired of the village he walked to the fields, or the gardens, where the pot-herbs, the lentils, the pig-nuts, and the beans grew. Neither forest nor solitude charmed Abdullah; the company of the nursing women, or the workers in the field, was far preferable. One day, Kalulu proposed to Selim, and Simba, and Moto, that they should get up a party to make a grand elephant hunt, and, as an apology, said to Selim: "I should have asked thee long ago, were it not that I knew thou wouldst not come; but Abdullah is so much better that he travels about the village as if he had never been bitten by a crocodile." "To hunt elephants I will surely come with thee. I have got my gun, which I saved from the Liemba, and I should like to try a shot at an elephant. Moto is a great hunter, and he shall teach me how to tickle the tail and hams of one; thou hast never heard him tell the story. Oh, it is such an incredible one! but he never tells a lie to me." "Does Moto say he tickled the tail of an elephant? if it is true, he has done more than old Soltali himself. Soltali has done some wonderful things with elephants too, but he never did anything like this. However, we shall see how he acts before a real wild elephant. We shall watch him--eh, Selim?" "Oh, I shall have my eyes on him, depend on it; but when shall we go, Kalulu?" "At daybreak to-morrow. To-night Soltali must sing the elephant hunting-song of the hunters, and must give each of the hunters a charm, since he is too old to accompany us. I shall take fifty men with me, so that we can make a strong party. If Ferodia catches us in the woods he would make short work of us, and my head would not remain long on my shoulders if he caught me; for then he knows he would be king." "Why, thou art not going near his country, surely! because I would rather stop here, if thou art. I want to see no more of Ferodia," said Selim in alarm. "Be at ease, my brother. I go not near him with the best fifty men that the Watuta can count. I go in a different direction, south-east; he lives south-west, south of the Liemba Lake." "All right; but really thou didst frighten me. My back fairly tingles at the thought of Tifum, and Tifum is with Ferodia." "Yet, my brother, thou didst hit him a blow in the face, and Moto-- cunning man--said he saw it, and said it was well done." "I wish the blow had gone through his head, then my mind would be at ease, for that man is my bane--my Afrit. [Afrit is a bad spirit with the Moslems.] Even when I am at Zanzibar I shall think of that man." "There, enough, my brother; I will put one of my barbed arrows through his throat the first time I see him, for thy sake. Go and prepare thy gun, and bullets, and medicine powder, and to-night thou must attend to the song of the doctor, or thou shalt have bad luck with us in the hunt." And Kalulu turned away with light hounding steps, which soon carried him away from his Arab brother. At night--probably at the hour of nine with us, the moon being up--a long, low, rumbling roll of the largest goma brought the destined hunters, together with Kalulu, Selim, Simba, and Moto, running and chasing each other towards the drum stand. There were ten drums, and a boy for each, ascending in height from the smallest to the biggest drum; so that the boy who beat the smallest drum must have been about ten years old, and the boy who beat the largest drum was a sturdy youth of twenty, or thereabouts. Pots full of pombe and plantain-wine were ranged a little distance off, from which the dancers and the singers could regale themselves when they felt disposed. For the eve of a hunting party's march is considered a great event, second only to the return of a successful party with plenty of ivory. The hunters formed a select circle round the drummers and the pombe pots; a larger circle, made by about three hundred people--men, women, boys, and girls--surrounded the hunters. Each hunter had on a capricious head-dress. One tall fellow was very conspicuous by wearing a pair of buffalo horns; another had a rhinoceros horn on the top of his head; another had his head draped with a piece of zebra skin, which gave him quite a remarkable appearance by moonlight; one had a zebra crest, which made him appear as if he wore a Greek helmet; another had a goatskin over his head. Kalulu wore three magnificent snowy ostrich plumes on his head. Selim wore a turban. Simba and Moto also wore turbans. One fellow, next to Moto, wore an enormous black earthen pot on his head; another had a broad, wooden dish; but it would be wearying to enumerate all the strange things they wore. The drummer boys struck up an interlude, which was a verse from the boatmen's song--the chorus, We are gliding, Softly gliding, seemingly giving them immeasurable enjoyment as they lingered over the word "gliding." While they were busy with feet and lungs, moving about in a circle, a sudden silence prevailed;--the great Soltali, the greatest elephant hunter and doctor of magic of the age, arrived upon the scene. A loud murmur of approbation greeted the extraordinary old man. The most remarkable of all head-dresses was on the head of Soltali, for he had the skin of an elephant's trunk, the base of the trunk fitting his head, as if it had grown there, while the trunk, filled with grass, was stiff enough to stand perfectly erect, though perhaps it was stiff enough without. The weight of this must have been considerable; but the ridiculous vanity of men causes them to do strange things sometimes, and this act could have been nothing else than absurdest vanity. Hanging around the old man's neck was a string of giraffe tails, whose hairs were blacker than ink. On his arms he wore wristlets and armlets of pure white ivory. In each hand he carried a gourd half full of pebbles, which he rattled every now and then with a horrible noise. He first, after he entered the inner circle, walked around three times, staring at each man, rattling his gourds alternately, as he passed round; then walking to the centre, while the bass drum began to hum and murmur its deep sounds, he began to move his body to the right and left, each hunter sighing deeply in sympathy with the now fast rising murmur of all the drums in concert. Loud and louder beat the drums, until the noise was deafening, and the voices of the singers became a demoniac din; then lower and lower descended the voices and the drum-sounds, until nothing was heard but the pacific and low murmur of the bass drum and the low sighs of the dancers. Then Soltali opened his mouth and sang, in the heroic vein, of his doings in the elephant hunt in the far southern lands, the streamy land of the Wa-marungu, in the hot swampy lands of the Wawemba, and on the broad plains of Ututa; of his mishaps and fortunes, his narrow, hair-breadth escapes, and his wonderful adventures, out of which the author of the present history might make his fame and fortune were he gifted with the power to translate into some kind of verse what Soltali said. Though demurring somewhat at the necessity of translating at all what the old man said, the author feels compelled to give the gist of the charge he gave the hunters concerning their conduct when they should meet an elephant. He spoke authoritatively and well, and it is a pity that a better translator is not at my side to assist me in the translation of some of the Kituta polysyllables. "Let the warrior Watuta, and the hunters bold Heed and mark well the words of the Mganga old; Let them behold these charms, these trophies of my might Each of them reminds me of many a hard fight. Should ye meet the elephant alone in a plain, Seek not too hastily to give him the death pain. Singly let none attack him--'tis an unequal fight; For the elephant is strong, the embodiment of might; But surround him coolly, and carefully all, Be ready to obey your leader's slightest call; Then charge on him, all shouting, and charge with your spears; Let the stoutest and best of you aim behind his ears. Watch well the unfortunate on whom he turns round! He must run this and that way, and oft change his ground; Ye others must tease him, and invite him your way, Hamstring him, and spear him, and do what ye may. Beware of his front! range on his sides and his rear, Go all together, and let each man heave a sure spear. Fast as he veers round, hasten at right angles away To 'scape the elephant's first charge is no child's play, For his stride is so long he swallows the ground: One stride of his is as long as a hunter's bound. After a while he will get tired--heed well what I say, He is never so dangerous as when standing at bay; For the hunter too often thinks he is dead game, And advances too near him, too eager for fame; But be ye guided by me, and stand off afar, And your good hunt so well done, ye will not mar. Let the elephant bleed, let him fall to the ground, Let him gladden your ears with his fall's heavy sound! Then think of the Mganga, the words he has said; Be sure that his services to you are well paid! Then will ye succeed in your hunt on the plain, Succeed without loss, and succeed without pain!" The author may not attempt further translations from the speech, or song rather, of this old Mganga or magic doctor, the Kituta polysyllables having tasked his powers to the utmost; but from his knowledge of hunting in Africa, he feels bound to admit that the old man had a sound head on his shoulders; and the band of hunters having heard his lengthy chant to the end, declared that they felt eternally grateful to him. On the conclusion of his chant, he delivered to each hunter a small portion of whitish powder, which we, who have been in his museum, feel confident consisted of burnt brain, mixed with wood ashes. But this charm, consecrated by the magic doctor, could not fail to render each hunter highly successful in his enterprise. The pombe, or beer, next attracts the attention of the singers, and each singer incontinently sets to the agreeable task of guzzling, where the author leaves them until the morrow--the Kituta polysyllables and the pombe having fairly upset him for the time. In the morning, at daybreak, without any of the formalities of muster or calling the roll, Kalulu, Selim, Simba, and Moto, left the village by the principal gate, followed by about fifty strong active young warriors, not one of whom could have been over thirty years old. The horn of the leading hunter sounded merrily as he blew his ringing blasts of adieux, while the party dived into the depths of the gigantic corn-stalks, and their friends at the village listened long and attentively, until the horn could be no longer heard. Kalulu had a couple of broad-bladed spears, and half-a-dozen assegais, much lighter than spears, with long flexible shafts, besides a bow and a quiver pack-full of arrows, which was slung over his shoulders. Selim, radiantly happy, walked next to Kalulu, as the path was so narrow that but one could walk at a time on the smooth, hard road, and carried his own gun--the "gun from London," which Kalulu had found among the plunder, with its own special ammunition. It was probably a fine "Joe Manton" as the barrels were of fine steel, short, of large bore, and a heavy price had been paid for it by Amer bin Osman through his Bombay agent. It was one of those fortunate accidents that occur sometimes. Olimali might have had the gun, had not Ferodia, seeing its great beauty and superiority, specially reserved it for a present to Katalambula; and the king not caring, or not having any use, for it, had placed it among his treasures in his store-room; and Selim, accompanying Kalulu to the store-room, as a privileged brother, to pick out a gun, suddenly saw the beautiful little masterpiece of the English gunmaker, which his father had presented him with, and with which he had shot the greedy crocodile on the Lofu, while his sharp teeth were lacerating his slave Mombo's leg. Could anything have been more fortunate? "Impossible!" thought Selim, as he had hastened to secure it, with the ammunition and the percussion caps. "Impossible!" thought he now, as he strode on after Kalulu, laughing and chatting gaily, and sometimes turning round to Simba and Moto with a gay remark, which permitted them to see his bright, happy face and sparkling eyes. Simba had his own bright-barrelled gun, which he had as yet never parted with, besides a ponderous spear, which might have made Goliath of Gath faint with the carrying of it. Behind Simba strode nimble-footed Moto, who also had his own gun, besides a couple of long keen-pointed spears. Behind Moto strode the Watuta hunters, one after another, some of them armed with shields, besides their handfuls of spears and quivers fall of arrows. Merriness is what distinguishes the conduct of all hunting parties, whether white or black, while on the way to the chase or the hunt. Pleasures unlimited are anticipated, and happy sport is expected, and this anticipation and expectation are what produce so many good jokes, and wit, and fun, and raillery, or, as the English call it, "chaff," when the hunting-field has not yet been reached and all feel bright and fresh. The hours that precede the chase or the hunt form the flower-time which men's minds love to remember and dwell upon for the unalloyed happiness which it furnished. It is needless to describe in detail the ground the party traversed. Once out of the corn-fields, the pastoral plains spread before them, where young Watuta boys were seen indulging in the excitement of a mimic battle or hunt while they tended their fathers' flocks. Here and there were little tracts of cultivation where women were at work hoeing the corn; and as they passed some isolated village, near the gate, under the trees, sat the nursing mothers, lullabying their babes to sleep, or the snowy crisp-haired elders sat on short three-legged stools retailing to each other the experiences of their lives, dwelling with fondness on some particular episode of their generally uneventful lives; while chubby, abdominous little children listened in wonder at what they heard, as chubby, abdominous little boys of white men's lands do when a particularly interesting tale is told. Beyond the plains and corn-fields, the cultivated tracts and villages, heaved into view the dark-blue line of forest--that forest which Selim knew, where he suffered, where he fainted, and laid unconscious. Finally, the party entered it, and they were involved in its twilight gloom. A week's, marching through the forest brought the party to the elephant hunting-grounds of the Watutu. The broad tracks, pounded and pressed, trodden compact and smooth as an asphalte pavement by the elephants' broad, heavy feet, indicated too clearly that this was a common resort for the ponderous beasts. Lengthy sinuous hollows, overgrown with thicket and shrub, tufted grass, and tall cane, spoke of clear but stagnant water being plentiful here, their ridges, clad with dense brush, ran in serpentine directions, and separated these swampy hollows from each other. Overhead were the leafy crowns of gigantic columnar trees, forming as they met close together a thorough shade for the locality, under which, undisturbed by any enemy, the elephant might cool himself during the fervid noon. Pressing further on out of this swampy region, they came, about sunset, to a thin jungle, where here and there rose a giant baobab, the monarch of all woods. Choosing one of these great trees, whose foliage was denser than ordinary, the party proceeded to cut down the smaller trees and brush, to form a brush fence around their camp, for the centre of which they chose this great baobab. They built the fence solid, secure, and high, as an efficient protection against wild beasts and nomadic freebooters. They then erected their huts--placing four short pronged poles in the ground, one at each corner of a square of six feet; then two taller poles dividing the square into halves; over these two taller poles and the two shorter poles on each side they laid transverse poles, which rested in the forks; and over these again they laid laterally light sticks, sloping down each side, which they covered over with long grass, and in a short time they had a perfect miniature house. There were other kinds of houses or huts being constructed; but the following illustration will best describe the architectural knowledge of the Watutu. After constructing their huts, some roamed into the woods to hunt for wild fruit, others to look for flat stones to grind their corn upon, others to procure sticks to make their fires with, others to get water; while others, again, scoured and prepared their pots to boil their porridge in. There were about fifteen huts in the encampment, some huts having as many as five for a mess, others only three, while others had but two. It is a noteworthy fact in African camps that, where the mess is large, the more important of the party are together; or that the most popular are those who prefer each other's society to that of any of the rest; though in each large mess one may be sure that one of the members has been admitted only for the sake of utilising his services; and his folly and ignorance, or cowardice and unworthiness, are forgiven and borne with, so long as he is industrious and not idle. Thus in Kalulu's mess were Selim, Simba, Moto, and an ignorant and timid fellow, who was only too glad to be near the great, and who industriously strove to please them for the sake of the patronage which he received for his labour. Kalulu, of course, as chief, could command the services of all if he chose to do so, but none would have worked as well as the timid fellow who voluntarily offered to cook for him. After the suppers were cooked and eaten, and their limbs were somewhat rested, and earth had drawn its sable mantle, chequered with the diamonds of heaven, over its head, and the dark foliage of the baobab began to be peopled with formless shapes and shadows, and the fires burned bright, and cast their tongued flames with splutter, and hissing, and crackling, the dispositions of each began to be exhibited. They squatted around a blazing pile, listening to an exciting tale of adventure, or a funny story, which makes men's sides almost explode with laughter. What can be more enjoyable? Nothing. People, for the time, forget everything but the interesting present. Not one in such a position can be left to himself; for his little world is before him, and he must be drawn into its vortex of pleasantry and enjoyment, and forget what he selfishly thinks belongs to himself. The desire of slumber came on by-and-bye, and each man crept into his hut, and on his own little pile of straw or leaves, drowned in kindly, healthy sleep, forgot not only himself, but his neighbours, his friends, and his tribe. At dawn, five of the likeliest fellows were sent by Kalulu to reconnoitre the vicinity and the open, swampy ground near which they had camped, and where they had obtained their water for cooking the night before. They had not been gone fifteen minutes before one of them returned, who, with a warning finger, imposed silence, and whispered the words "Kumi tembo"--ten elephants! You might have seen then how quickly the looks of indifference were changed into one of exciting interest, how eyes danced gladly, and sparkled at the joyful news; how Kalulu's hunter-soul kindled into raptures, and how Moto and Simba looked significantly at one another, and how Selim even felt a throb and a warm glow stealing over him. Moto advanced to Kalulu, and reminded him of the advice given by Soltali to hunt one at a time, and said that while he and his warriors should single out one, it would be better that those armed with guns, viz., he and Simba, and Selim, should engage another, and so kill two. Kalulu at once acceded to the proposal. The hunters, as soon as they got outside of the boma or camp, deployed in a long line, while Selim, Moto, and Simba stole quietly and quickly away on their own venture, in a direction considerably to the left of the Watuta hunters. All the natives had denuded themselves entirely; Selim and his two friends had but girded their cloths about their loins. The natives thus deployed, and ready at a signal, moved forward silently, and soon they were joined by the four remaining scouts, who, ensconced behind the bushes, had continued to watch the elephants, who were seen slaking their thirst at a pool, and playfully tossing the water over their backs. As the hunters emerged from this jungle into the cleared space near the pool, the elephants turned short round to look at the strange intruders, who were thus boldly appearing in their presence. The hunters stopped also with one accord to survey the ponderous animals they had come to kill. What a sight this was! Ten such noble beasts, clothed with bluish-grey hides, with uplifted trunks, and great ears standing out straight in array before those fifty naked pigmies, who, had they not their sharp spears and their barbed arrows, would no more have dared to approach these magnificent creatures than they would have climbed up to the highest tree and jumped off, expecting to be able to fly. They stood thus a minute opposed to each other; then Kalulu advanced to the front in the absence of the magic doctor, as the chief hunter, and with uplifted spear in hand, chanted the death-song of the elephant he chose should be killed. This was a picture also worthy of a great artist--the warriors in the foreground, the slight and nude form of the young chief in the centre, with his ostrich plumes waving above his head, as his body oscillated from side to side while he sang; and fronting him, about thirty feet off, a monster elephant, with his herd behind him, all looking astonished at the scene. The words ran after this fashion:-- "Thou monarch of beasts, thou king of the woods, Thou dangerous beast in thy angry moods, Thou elephant strong, thou form of great might, Behold Kalulu before thee for fight! I've come from the green groves of Liemba, From the country of old Loralamba, With magic from Soltali Mganga [Magic Doctor], The surest and best of his Uganga [Magic Medicine]. Then look at that sun, look at the pool In which thou didst revel, and think so cool; Look on that forest, and look on this grass. The sweetest and best of this wide morass; No more shalt thou see the sun or the pool, No more shalt thou revel in waters cool, No more shalt thou walk in the forest's shade, No more shalt thou delight in forest glade, No more shalt thou daintily feed on the grass Of the plain, or jungle, or this morass! Soltali the Mganga cannot lie: Young Kalulu is here! prepare to die!" As he finished his song his head was violently thrown back, the right arm was drawn to its length, and the bright spear-head, flashing once, twice, white sun-glints, was buried deep in the elephant's chest. A loud shout greeted the brave effort; and at the instant the elephant felt the keen sharp iron in him, he uttered a loud trumpet-note of rage, and charged, clearing at one bound several strides of a man. "Be off, Kalulu, thou brave prince of the Watuta! Hie away young hero! Stay not to count thy steps, thou dusky chief! Spring out, my boy; run as thou didst never run before! Impel thy haunches on--lift thy feet clear from the ground; out with thy chest--set thy head far back! Let thy lungs inhale free the rushing air! Beware of a stumble, else the tale is ended! Ha! well done--at right angles now! So; see the elephant charges the empty air, and runs headlong after vacancy! Now, warriors, is our time, with a whoop, and the shrill cry of the Watuta!" Such were the words that could be distinguished from the noise and tumult produced by the charge. Twenty spears had been launched into the elephant's body to distract his attention, and had it not been for Soltali's good advice to "turn at right angles away," the elephant would soon have overtaken the daring young chief; but, by his dexterous and easy movement to the right, the monster had charged on far ahead before he became aware that his enemy had escaped him. When he turned round he found the hunters like a cloud about him; he found himself isolated from his herd; the other elephants having charged in another direction in fury and fright to meet an enemy in another guise, and with different weapons. While the elephant seemed to take this all at a glance, a loud report was heard, which sounded like a volley of fire-arms; but he, unheeding the sound, charged again, with irresistible power, at his nearest foe, only to be foiled once more by the ever-evading, ever-shifting figures of his remorseless enemies. Again and again he charged, only to receive new wounds, an additional shower of spears and barbed arrows, which tormented him cruelly; until, fatigued with the unusual speed, faint from loss of blood, he stood stock still, confronting his enemies, defiant and still dreadful, though the spears and arrows in his body might have been counted by hundreds. Heedful of the prudent counsel of old Soltali, the Watuta drew back, but still surrounding him, awaiting his fall. They had not to wait long, before they saw his body oscillate from side to side, and the left knee bend, as if he were getting weak; then he staggered forward, rose up again, and finally rolled on his side--dead, crushing the spears in his side like straws in his fall. Leaving the Watuta to indulge in their self-glorification, let us proceed to see how the other three, Selim, Simba, and Moto, fared. Moto, as the three left the Watuta, drew alongside of Selim, and whispered some words in his ears, how to conduct himself, to reserve his fire, and to fire at the last elephant which would pass him, aiming behind his ears, which, of course, would be standing straight out, giving him an ample opportunity and a good target to fire at. Selim, faithfully promising, was placed behind a tree at the furthest end of the cleared ground in the neighbourhood of the pool. Simba chose one a few yards off, further still to the left, and Moto another tree twenty yards to the left of Simba; and in this position they waited the denouement. Selim could see the swaying form and nodding plumes of Kalulu, could hear the death-song, and with his finger on the two triggers of his gun, which was heavily loaded specially for this purpose, stood behind his tree waiting. Soon he saw Kalulu launch his spear, saw the charge and flight, heard the deafening noise, and while his heart palpitated fast, and his pulses throbbed, and his ears tingled, came the affrighted animals of the herd, charging in fear and fury by him. Obediently he waited, according to orders, until the last elephant was passing his position, then, stilling the heart's palpitation and the wildly beating pulse, full of trust and confidence in the powers of his English gun, he deliberately aimed behind the elephant's ears, and fired both barrels at once. The concussion knocked him down; but, while falling, he saw his elephant stumble and fall on his head in a motionless heap, stone dead. Picking himself hastily up, and snatching his gun, he stayed a moment to take in how matters stood; and finding the elephants in full flight, two limping laggards behind, and Simba and Moto following, he began to load his gun again with equally heavy charges as those he had in it previously; and having placed the caps carefully on, and taking a glance of pride at the game he had "bagged," he ran after Simba and Moto. His two friends he found firing, running, and loading as fast as they could; not a very hard task when the animals were so badly wounded. His nimble feet soon carried him nearer them, and after dodging and running as he had been directed to, as he was pursued by one or the other of the elephants, he had the satisfaction at last of seeing both stand still. Retreating a little distance from view, he took a circuit round, and then returned, taking advantage of every tree, and by great caution succeeded in coming behind a large tree at the distance of twelve paces from one of them. Lifting his gun, already cocked, to his shoulders, he took aim again behind the ears, and fired the two barrels once more, which was met with the same fatal result, for the elephant, after beating the air with his forelegs for a short time, swayed pitifully, and fell over, dead. But Selim had no time to make these observations, for the other elephant turned short round and charged at the tree. Selim stood his ground until the tree had almost been reached, when, dropping the gun on the ground, he started off for another tree, the elephant in hot pursuit after him. To the right, to the left, forwards and backwards, from tree to tree, Selim ran, until the elephant, to his astonishment, suddenly stopped, the hind-legs doubled under him, the forelegs bent, and his head came to the ground heavily, and in this kneeling position the poor elephant breathed his last. Selim had his gun brought to him by Simba, who lavished praises, almost fulsome, on his bravery and accuracy of shooting, in which Moto, who now came up, joined with heart and spirit. Simba, while he embraced his young master, would have it that Selim was the best elephant hunter known; there never was such an Arab boy before, who shot two elephants dead one after another. "And thou must consider, Moto," said he, apologetically, "Selim is but sixteen; if he shoots two elephants, one after another, when he is sixteen, what will he do when he is a grown man?" "True," answered Moto, "when he is double his age he will shoot four one after another. Selim is a great hunter truly. I wonder what the Watuta have done. Whisht! hear their cries! Their elephant is dead. We must go to see them. Or do thou stop with Selim to watch these whilst I go to tell them what our young master has done. Say, Simba, how much money would the ivory of these three elephants bring at Zanzibar, dost thou think?" "I know not. How many frasilah dost thou think there are in the three?" asked Simba. "Somewhere about twelve, I should say? Twelve frasilah of ivory at 50 dollars the frasilah (35 pounds) would make how much?" asked Moto. "I don't know--plenty, I suppose," said Simba; "but Selim knows." "Twelve fifties will make 600--six hundred dollars," answered Selim. "Six hundred dollars! What a pity we cannot carry it to Zanzibar!" said Moto. "I shall be back directly." Moto bounded away lightly towards the pool, and in a short time in the middle of the plain beyond he saw the Watuta in a group cutting and slashing at the dead elephant, with noise and excitement enough to frighten every elephant for miles around. When he approached, the Watuta gathered about him, and Kalulu pointed exultantly at the dead beast into which he had driven the first spear, and Kalulu then asked what luck they had had. Moto answered: "Selim has killed two, and I have killed one." "Selim killed two!" echoed Kalulu, with surprise. "What! little Selim my brother?" "The same," answered Moto. "Eyah, eyah!" murmured the group, while Kalulu seemed lost in astonishment, and could not utter a word more. "Selim stands waiting to shew them to his brother, Kalulu," said Moto. "Oh, I shall come. Why Selim is a hero, a lion, an elephant! Is he not, Moto?" "He is a brave young Arab, and the son of an Arab chief," answered Moto. When the young chief started off, all but a few Watuta, who remained to extract the tusks, followed him to see the wonderful three dead elephants. In the same position in which he had first fallen lay Selim's first prize, with his tusks half buried in the ground. Kalulu gazed at the wide wound in his head, put his fist into it until it was buried up to the wrist, and then turned to Moto with wondering eyes, and said: "Kalulu has seen dead men in his father's village, pierced to the heart with the leaden balls which the rifles of Kisesa threw, but what gun is this that makes such big holes in the elephant's head?" Then Moto told him that Selim had fired the two barrels of the gun at once, at such a short distance from the elephant, that the two big bullets went into the head as one, and that this was the reason there was such a big hole, which quite satisfied the young chief. Leaving ten men to extract the tusks, Kalulu proceeded to where Selim and Simba stood, close to the former's second prize; and here, again, Kalulu saw the wide rent and savage wound in the same spot as that found in the first elephant. Kalulu sprang on Selim's neck, and embraced him warmly, while the Watuta gazed at Selim as on one they had never seen before, with surprise and unlimited admiration. By evening the tusks had all been extracted from the elephants, and great portions of the meat were carried to camp, especially the feet, the hearts, and livers, and ribs, where, before blazing fire-piles, the meat was set to roasting, while the adventures of the day were rehearsed over and over, with new additions each time, until midnight of that eventful day came and sealed all eyes in deep slumber. They moved further south, and in less than two weeks the party had killed twenty elephants, which so loaded them with ivory, that they were obliged to return towards home, unable to carry more. CHAPTER TEN. THE BURIAL SONG--KALULU BECOMES KING--LONG LIVE KING KALULU--KALULU'S ORATION--SELIM ASKS PERMISSION TO DEPART--THE DISSATISFIED MINORITY-- FERODIA'S AMBITION--TIFUM THE WICKED, AND HIS ADVICE--FERODIA VISITS KALULU--THE TREACHEROUS GUESTS. After a march of two weeks without a single incident, they arrived at Katalambula's village, to hear the sad news that the King had died the day before, and that everybody was mourning for him. This was a great shock for Kalulu, for the King had loved him dearly, and the young chief bore him great affection in return. When at first the news was conveyed to him, he seemed to be suddenly stricken dumb, his face assumed a livid hue, and he trembled all over. Then, giving vent to his sorrows in a long, sad cry of sorrow, he hastened to the King's house, where the doctors were found attending the corpse, and at once threw himself on the body, uttering the most doleful lamentations, crying, "Awake, thou King! thou chief of the Watuta, awake! Behold me, thy son, Kalulu, returned from the chase! Open thine ears, O Katalambula! Listen to the voice of thy son! Open thy eyes, O Katalambula! stretch out thine hand, and feel the form of him thou didst so love! Speak, Katalambula! Say, whither hast thou gone, that thy voice may no longer be heard, nor thy ears may longer hear Kalulu's Voice? Kalulu, the child of thy brother Mostana, calls unto thee! Come out with me, O Katalambula! Come out under the tree! come and tell Kalulu of thy prowess when thou wert young! Ah! Katalambula, I shall die if thou wilt not wake up!" and thus he kept calling on the dead, until he found his cries and tears were of no avail. He rose then, and went to his hut, and closed the door, and on his rugged bed, his tears flowed silently and swiftly, until it seemed as if his soul would melt in tears. When near sunset, the grave being ready, under a hut erected over it at the corner of the square, and the ceremony of burial was about to begin, Kalulu came out of his hut to do honour to the body of Katalambula. All the Wa-mganga [Wa-mganga--plural of mganga--magic doctors] from the neighbouring villages were gathered together; all the elders, the councillors, and principal men of the tribe were assembled, until the great square of the capital was crowded with warriors, women, and children. In order that the ceremony might be allowed to proceed in due form, they had arranged themselves around a large circle, having the great tree for its centre. In this circle were assembled the doctors of magio and the chief mourners, and near them were the fattest, finest bulls that could be procured, black in colour and without a single blemish, which were to be killed over Katalambula's grave; near by, also, were enormous earthenware pots of pombe (beer) and plaintain wine, which were to be poured over the grave as a libation to his manes. The drummers were in their places, the wa-mganga (doctors) were ready, painted and striped with white chalk all over, with the gourds, half-filled with pebbles, in their hands; and the chant began. The author, in order to do something like justice to the pathetic death-song of the King, finds himself compelled to give as literal a translation as possible. The tune was most mournful, the chorus most pathetic, being drawn out into a long, sweet-toned wail; and the voices of the women and children, mingling with the deeper voices of the warriors, were effectively impressive: The son of Loralamba, The conqueror of Uwemba, The Sultan of Liemba, Is dead! The brother of Mostana, The wisest Manyapara, The King of the Watuta, Is dead! _Chorus_. Is dead! Oh, he is dead! He who fought Wa-marungu, The great lord of Kwikuru, The wise son of Malungu, Is dead! He who slew Tamaniro, Chief of the Wukhokoro, By the river Amhenuro, Is dead! _Chorus_. Is dead! Oh, he is dead! Who triumph'd o'er Kansala, Near the Mount Araboella, In the land of Kinyala, Is dead! _Chorus_. Is dead! Oh, he is dead! The uncle of Kalulu, The sire of Koranilu And pretty Imamulu, Is dead! He who married Lamoli, The daughter of Soltali, By the woman Zimbili, Is dead! _Chorus_. Is dead! Oh, he is dead! The lord of Mohilizi, And the land from Bonzi To the River Zambezi, Is dead! The bravest, wisest Mwenni, Of the tribe of Meroeni, The dauntless Simbamwenni, Is dead! _Chorus_. Is dead! Oh, he is dead! He was fear'd by Wagala, By the fierce Wazavila, Was great Katalambula, Who is dead! But the mighty Mtuta, Bravest of the Watuta, The Sultan of Ututa, Is dead! _Chorus_. He is dead! Oh, he is dead! Ah! the King we did adore, We shall see his face no more, And our hearts are sad and sore, For he is dead! Kindest, best, and wisest King, On thy head the dust we fling, And in sorrow do we sing. Our lord is dead! _Chorus_. Our lord is dead! Alas! our lord is dead! O King! why didst thou thus die? Deep in the grave thou must lie, While we will for ever cry, Our chief is dead! O'er him pour libative wine, O'er him slay the fattest kine, O'er him make the magic sign, For our King is dead! _Chorus_. For our King is dead! Alas! our King is dead! When the chant was ended, the body was laid on a long, broad piece of stiff bark, and four wa-mganga (doctors) carried it to the grave, where it was laid on the right side, with the King's shield, spears, bow, and quiver of arrows. A pot, full of millet-flour, mixed with water was placed, closely covered, by the head, and the stiff piece of bark, which served to convey the body to the grave, was placed over the body; then the plaintain wine was poured over this, the black bulls were brought up and slaughtered, the blood pouring into the grave; then the earth was scraped in and stamped close and hard; and, finally, ten potfuls of pombe were poured over the grave, and the ceremony was over. Then the elders, the councillors, and the doctors gathered together under the great tree, and began to discuss the question who should be King. A large number proposed that Ferodia should be sent for, as he was a relative of the King; but the majority, though small, were for Kalulu, who, not only was nephew of Katalambula, but adopted son, and the choice of the old King. Besides, Kalulu was a brave lad, and would in time be a greater warrior than Ferodia, perhaps greater than Katalambula, and the equal of Loralamba. His youth was full of promise, and he had already won everybody's regard for his amiability and good heart, said they. Whereupon the discussion grew fierce; those for Ferodia threatened to leave Katalambula's tribe and go over to him, and would return with spear and sword to cut Kalulu's head off. Finally, when all this was at its greatest height, and wordy dissension came near ending in bloodshed, Soltali rose, and, by his eloquence, succeeded in calming the turbulent and winning over to Kalulu's side several of the adherents of Ferodia, until there remained but a email, contumacious minority for the latter. While the majority waited for the messengers sent to inform Kalulu of the honour conferred on him, the minority rose and departed out of the village, muttering threats, and promising to return with Ferodia, who would punish all with a terrible vengeance. Kalulu received the deputation, and when told its mission, rose at once and followed them to Soltali. This old man--the principal magic doctor of the tribe--was not only one of the chief councillors, or chief manyapara--to give the technical Kituta term--but had also had the honour of having Katalambula for his son-in-law, as the King had taken his daughter Lamoli for wife, and Moto's wife, Lamoli, was granddaughter to Soltali. But, aside from this relationship to Kalulu, the old man dearly loved the amiable prince, and rejoiced that he was now permitted to inform Kalulu that he was elected King. Some of the _dowa_, or uganga (the millet-flour mixed with water, a most potent medicine or charm), was placed near Soltali, and as Kalulu stood before them in the now bright moonlight, graceful as a dusky Ganymede, the magic doctor rose, while the elders and councillors sat around, and, taking some of the potent medicine in his hand, he touched the boy's forehead, each cheek, nose, mouth, and chin, crying in a loud voice: "Be thou King! Be thou brave! Be thou strong! Be thou good! And let all thy enemies run before thee!" In succession each elder rose, dipped his hand in the medicine, and touched Kalulu's forehead with it, saying, "Be thou King! Be thou brave! Be thou strong! Be thou good! and let all thy enemies run before thee!" Then the warriors were summoned by the drums to the square, and all the women and children gathered also, and old Soltali, the high priest and magic doctor, sang to them the new King's good qualities, his birth, his troubles, his arrival at Katalambula's village, the joy of the old King; how Kalulu became henceforth as his son to him; and how Katalambula had solemnly sworn that Kalulu was his choice for his successor to him, Soltali; what Kalulu had already done towards winning fame; ending with a solemn injunction to all that they should honour and serve Kalulu as they had served his father, so that the glory of the Watuta would become known to all nations, and their bravery be sung in all the corners of the earth. N.B.--The author extracts such portions of the chant as he deems most interesting; but refuses positively to disfigure any more of his chapters with the uncouth Kituta polysyllables; and refuses, furthermore, to touch upon such ceremonies as have verse or chorus in them, however interesting they may be; for he finds his patience sadly exhausted with being compelled continually to render into barbarous rhyme words which grate on his sensitive ears: The hero and lion chief, Loralamba, King of Liemba and the streamy Wemba, Lord of all the pasture lands of broad Usango From West Urori to far Ukonongo, Whom the unnumber'd tribes of Tuta and Sowa, From hilly Lobisa to the lake-land Itawa, Obey'd without scruple, him who in each campaign Had slain his foes by hundreds on each hill and plain, When dying, bequeathed his youngest son Mostana The lands of Rori from Wiwa to Kantana, While to his eldest son, our King, Katalambula, He gave all wide Ututa, including Kinyala. Our King died heirless, but in Rori's Kwikuru His brother Mostana was blest with Kalulu. When, years ago, the Arabs fell 'pon Kantana, Destroyed Kwikuru, and slew brave Mostana, Young Kalulu came, and sought his father's brother, And in our King, his uncle, he found a father. Ye recall the day when the King this orphan met; How on his head our King's infirmed hands were set; How fondly he clasp'd the youth to his aged breast. And, in endearing accents, bade him there find rest. Ye know what delight this boy has since to him been, And the King's paternal love ye have also seen. Oft have ye heard the King make mention of his name, As one born to win a hero's long-enduring fame. 'Tis needless to rehearse the deeds already done By the stout arm of dead Mostana's princely son; They are known to all the Watuta tribes around, And all our most ambitious youths his praises sound. Morula, King of Ubena, fell by his hand, So died the false and cruel chief of Bemba land. The rebel Bongo, tribal chief on Chuma plain, Fell by Kalulu's spear, was by Kalulu slain. When the Arab boy sank in the deep waters brown, Gripped by the greedy crocodile, and sank deep down, Who div'd to rescue him? Who but young Kalulu? Who but the noblest, bravest son of Malungu! The King swore to me,--the Mganga Soltali, I,--who to him wedded my daughter Lamoli, "None shall rule as King over Tuta's Kwikuru But brave Mostana's son, my princely Kalulu!" Now in council, your priests and elders do maintain That o'er the Tuta tribes none may aspire to reign Save brave Mostana's son, and the choice of Malungu. We now proclaim him King. Long live King Kalulu! The warriors gave a great shout, the drums thundered, and all the warriors, the women, the children, the doctors, the councillors, and elders cried "Long live King Kalulu!" When silence prevailed, Kalulu stood up before the people, and while the body swayed and the hands made gestures, according as his emotions governed him, the young King might, by a stretch of fancy, have been taken for a demi-god visiting a favoured people, teaching them the ways of the wise, and urging them to abandon savage habits. While all listened intently and admiringly, the elected chief spoke as follows:-- "Warriors of the Watuta, and ye elders and councillors! Ye have elected me King, because I, the son of Mostana, was beloved by Katalambula, and because he, being heirless, said to Soltali, `Since I have no son, Kalulu shall reign in my stead, when I am laid in the ground.' Katalambula has gone to his fathers; he was old, he was weighed down with the burden of years, and loaded with honours; he is no more; the cruel earth covers him. The King is dead, but ye have chosen me to fill his place. I am young, I have not seen many moons, and I am not yet a full warrior. How, then, shall I fill Katalambula's place? I will tell you. Katalambula was good; he loved the good and hated the wrong. So do I love the good and hate wrong. Katalambula was just. As Katalambula was just, so shall I be. When Katalambula was young, he was strong, he was brave, he was a lion in war. When I shall be a full warrior, I shall be strong, I shall be brave, I shall be a lion in war. Katalambula was wise. Ah! I am young, I am not wise; but I have Soltali, Katalambula's friend, with me. I have the same elders, the councillors, and the magic doctors; their wisdom they will give me when trouble comes, and by their wisdom shall I be wise. There is peace in the land to-day; the Watuta are rich and prosperous. There is no sickness amongst the people, neither is there disease in the herds, or in the flocks. But the dark days may come, when a strong enemy shall come upon the land; yet not before Kalulu shall know it. Sickness may come; but who can prevent the bad spirits that visit us with baleful disease and thin our warriors, and make us poor in flocks and herds? Yet Kalulu shall be ready with his sacrifices and his potent medicine to soften the hearts of the bad spirits. It is well. The Watuta love Kalulu; they have made him their King. When the time comes, and necessity demands, Kalulu will die for the Watuta. I have spoken." Having finished his Oration, Kalulu retired from amongst the people, and went into his own hut, where he found Selim and Abdullah, Simba and Moto, conversing upon the events of the last two days. The four rose to receive him courteously, and offered him a clean ox-hide to sit upon, and began to condole with him upon the loss of the King who loved him so much. "Ah! yes, he was a dear, good man. My going out and coming in he watched like a lioness her whelps. He was proud of me, too; for he said I had the eyes of Loralamba, his father, and carried my head like him. He often said that I should make the Watuta a great nation, greater than it was in the time of Loralamba. He told me, a little before I went away after the elephants, how to behave myself when I should become King, and advised me to travel with a great many warriors all around Ututa, and see for myself how great my country is, and who pay the tribute and who do not; because, he said, when Kings forget their people their people forget who is their King, and set up for themselves. Then quarrels begin, and war follows, and tribes rise against one another, and a nation becomes weak. I mean to follow his advice; and when the next moon is full, begin the journey. Say, Selim, how wouldst thou like it?" "Oh, Kalulu! thou art King now of all this great nation, thou art rich and powerful; there is none like unto thee in all the lands of Africa. Thousands of warriors are ready to do thy bidding; armies of great, strong, fierce men are under thy feet. If thou wilt but more that little tongue of thine, there is war everywhere; men will begin to hate one another and to lust for each other's blood; Tillages will be destroyed, and whole tribes shall be known no more. Thou, who art but a boy like me, art dreadful in thy sudden power. But a few days ago, under the tree where the dead elephant lay, thou didst embrace me, thou didst say all manner of kind things unto me. Wilt thou do Selim a favour, Kalulu?" "Will I do thee a favour? Oh, Selim! dost thou think that, because I am King of the Watuta, I can forget our brotherhood? Dost thou think that Kalulu's friendship changes like the antelope, which roameth about for the sweet grass, now here, now there? No; Kalulu's friendship is like the water of a river, always flowing in the same direction, true and constant. Ask me anything thou wilt, and I will give it thee! Dost thou want a wife? Take pretty Imamalu, and if she is not enough, take Koranilu; and if thou wouldst like another, ask for her, and thou shalt have her. Dost thou need a gun? Ask for as many as thou wilt. What is it thou wouldst ask?" "I would ask," answered Selim, "that, now thou art King, thou wilt permit Abdullah, Simba, and Moto, and myself to depart to our own land." "Depart!" echoed Kalulu, "and leave me alone! What has Kalulu done unto thee or thy friends, that thou wouldst leave him?" "Nay, my brother--if thou wilt permit me to call thee by that name still--thou hast done nothing of wrong unto us," replied Selim. "Thou hast been too good, if anything. What should we have done without thy friendship? But thou must remember, Kalulu, we left our own land to trade for ivory and slaves. We came as far as Urori, intending to go to Rua, on the other side of Lake Tanganika; but at Ewikuru of Olimali the caravan was destroyed, our fathers and friends were killed, others were made slaves along with ourselves. But we were happy in finding a friend in thee. We were released from slavery, and in my master I found a brother. But, Kalulu, at Zanzibar, Abdullah and I have mothers, who are sorrowing for us. I have a rich estate, and plenty of money waiting for me; Simba and Moto have wives and children. If Kalulu permits us to go, would it be well for us to remain here?" "Ah! poor Katalambula is dead, he has been but just buried; and now Selim wants to go away, and leave me. What evil spirit is this, that makes me suffer so? What have I done, that all should leave me? Why should I suffer, when all other men are happy? I wish I were in Katalambula's place, and he in mine. Thou wilt not want to go at once, Selim, wilt thou? Surely, thou wilt have pity upon me, and remain a few moons longer; then I myself--though I know I shall die--will take thee with a thousand warriors to where thou wilt find thyself safe, and among thy friends." "Oh, Kalulu, I did not mean to go away at once. I meant after one moon. Wilt thou not let me go after one moon, my brother? Think of my poor mother, what she must suffer all this time! It is this that makes me wish I had the wings of an eagle, to fly to her, and tell her how safe and happy I have been with thee. It is this only which could make me wish to leave thee so soon after thy great loss." "Then, Selim, let it be as thou wilt. Kalulu has not the bad heart to keep a son from a mother; sooner would his own heart burst in his own body, than my brother should suffer. Thou hast said thou hadst intended to have gone to Rua for ivory and slaves. No need to go so far. I have here two hundred of the Arabs' people Ferodia took at Ewikuru. They shall be thine, and each man shall be loaded with ivory, one hundred of which shall be thy portion, and the other hundred for Moto, and Simba, and Abdullah. Art thou satisfied?" "Satisfied!" said Selim, in a wondering tone.--"Satisfied! I should be worse than dead clay, if I were not. Nay, thy kindness must have some reward; for the same Sky-spirit which has touched thy heart with soft kindness towards me, has now touched mine: I shall stay two moons with thee, and I then shall ask thee to let me go. But thou art so good, Kalulu; I shall never meet thy like again, when I depart from thee," and Selim wept grateful tears, as he threw himself upon the neck of the noble young savage, while Abdullah, in a transport of joy, kissed the generous chief's feet; nor was Simba or Moto backward in expressing their admiration of Kalulu's generosity. They spent many hours together, until late in the night, consulting about what should be done in the meantime, and how a new amusement should be furnished for almost every day; after which they retired, each to his bed to sleep, with their hearts full of peace and love towards one another. We will now leave the young King and his friends to their pleasures, while we note what became of the minority who expressed themselves so strongly against the election of Katalambula's choice for King, and who departed before the ceremony of election and appointment began, muttering threats. These threats were by no means idle. They were made by men who had accompanied Ferodia to Urori, and fought at Kwikuru, and who were rewarded so handsomely by him during the distribution of cloth. They were warriors who paid respect to courage and success, and to them Ferodia was a hero far more deserving of the chief authority over the tribe than a boy, who, however promising he might be, had not yet distinguished himself more than any other boy would have done, placed in the same position. Ferodia was a chief, who, were he King, might be able to make each warrior rich in cloth, in ivory, in slaves, and cattle; while with Kalulu as King, many years must elapse before he would think of venturing upon a war unprovoked. When they left the village, and were safe outside, these feelings found expression, and, consulting and advising with each other, they were not long in coming to the conclusion that their interest lay in proceeding at once to Ferodia's country, a week's march south-west, and acquaint him with their hopes and desires, and invite him to proclaim himself King, with the aid of all malcontents, and friends, and to march upon Kalulu's village and depose the boy-king. This duty of self-interest they at once set about executing, by commencing their march for Ferodia's country. Within a week they made their appearance before Ferodia's village, and when they told their errand, they were at once introduced before the chief, who sat under a tree, similar to the one at Katalambula's, obsequious and villainous-faced Tifum the Wicked standing by his side. "Peace be unto ye, my brothers," said Ferodia, rising, and hurrying to embrace each one in succession, and, as is the custom in Ututa and in all the lands adjoining Lake Tanganika, rubbing their elbows first, then their arms, then their shoulders, and then falling on their necks, slapping them on the back gently with the disengaged right hand, muttering continually as he rubbed each part, "Wake, wake, wake, waky"-- Health, health, health, and peace. Finally, after going through the ceremony of greeting, like an assiduous old diplomat that he was, he asked: "Whence come ye, my brothers? and what is your purpose?" The chief of the party of chiefs, who was the spokesman, answered, "Why should we come thus far, O Ferodia, if it were not to greet thee as King of all the Watuta? Katalambula, the great King, is dead. He is no more. There is nothing left of him. He is in the ground. The Watuta tribes have now no leader, no chief, no king; they are like unto the flocks on the plain, bleating for the shepherd that cannot be found. They are going astray after one who is not old enough to be their shepherd. They have elected the boy Kalulu, who is but a child, and is not yet a warrior. He is like unto an infant just weaned, who seeketh the pap refused him. Katalambula being dead, Kalulu is drowned in tears; verily, he has lost his head from sorrow, for he is but a child, and has lost his friend and father, and knoweth not what to do. Wherefore, we came unto thee, O Ferodia, to ask thee to be our shepherd, our leader, our king. Say, what is thy answer?" Ferodia answered softly: "The words thou hast spoken are words of truth, my brother. Katalambula being dead, the Watuta have lost their leader. Kalulu, in truth, is but a child--but a child completely spoiled. Any of my boy-slaves were fitter to be king of the warlike Watuta than he. Who is Kalulu? He is not a matuta, he is not a warrior, he is not the son of Katalambula, he has not won the right to carry a spear, save as a burden. He is a Mrori, the son of Mostana, one of a stranger tribe. Katalambula being dead, the Watuta have no leader. But who has a better right to fill his place than I, Ferodia? Who won his battles for him, but I, Ferodia? Who conquered the Wabona, the Wumarungu, the Wakonongo, the Wanyamwezi, the Wasowa, the Wakawendi, and the Warimba, but I, Forodia? By my fame I have won the right to succeed him who is dead. By my courage in the field, there is none fitter to take his place. By my victories, I have deserved the honour. Verily, thy words are words of truth, my brother, and thou makest me glad with thy wise remarks." "Speak, Ferodia, O chief, when wilt thou that we go and punish Soltali, and those who have chosen another in thy place?" asked the spokesman of his visitors. Whereupon a council was called, to which all the chiefs and all the great warriors, the doctors, the councillors, even all those who had authority were invited. The discussion was lively, and had a newspaper reporter who understood Kituta polysyllables been there, I doubt not he would have been as much edified as he would be elsewhere amongst councils. "How is Katalambula's village to be taken? How is Kalulu to be ousted out of his right? How are the warriors in the village to be brought to submission to Ferodia, if they have made Kalulu king?" were the questions to be answered. One chief suggested that Ferodia should visit Kalulu, and offer him the hand of friendship, and in the night rise up and slay; another, that Kalulu should be invited for a grand elephant hunt: when in the woods the young King might be easily disposed of; another, that he should be invited to Ferodia's country, to celebrate his coming to power, when he could be poisoned by the doctors--in short, all things were suggested to aid the daring conspirators to deprive Kalulu of his rights. "Tifum, what dost thou advise? Thou art cunning as a phizi (hyaena), chary of thy speech as the flying-cat is of its form, wise as a lord of an elephant herd, but cruel as the sable leopard; which letteth not go whatever it seizes upon. Thou art invaluable to me, O Tifum; therefore speak, and give thy chief counsel," said Ferodia. Being commanded to speak, Tifum the Wicked rose and said: "Words, words! Who is like unto Forodia in wisdom? He searches the heart, and penetrates to the hidden and unspoken thoughts. Ferodia knows that Tifum the Wicked can give him counsel, and he forthwith commands him to speak. Who is like unto Ferodia in the battle? He rages about the war-field, seeking the strong arm and the brave with whom he may measure his strength. His feet lift him from point to point, swift as the swiftest quagga in the forest. He springs aloft with his ever-thirsty spear, seeking to drink the blood of the strongest. When his voice is heard his foes stand abashed, as if the roaring lion had come into the fight. I, Tifum the Wicked, have seen him oft in the war, and Tifum knows whereof he speaks. Ferodia the chief commands Tifum to give him counsel. My counsel is this, O chief. Katalambula's village is strong--the warriors are many--the palisade is lofty and close, and the villages round about are more than can be counted. Ferodia's tribe is small and weak; it is like a handful of sand compared to the sand of all the plain. Alone, we may not venture on a war with all the Watuta. Let us, then, send messengers to the people of Kinyala, whose chief Katalambula killed, and who are yet resentful. To the chiefs of Marungu, and to those of Itawa by the lake. Let us send good words to Mohilizi and to the band of Wazavila, who live but a few days' off, and with all these together, and with the aid of these discontented chiefs of the Meroeni tribe, we may hope to make a successful war. The is this: Let Ferodia take with him all the warriors of his own tribe, and with them proceed to Kalulu, and if he asks why we have come, say, `We are come to offer thee our congratulations. Art thou not our King? Wherefore we have come to serve thee.' Then Ferodia, with one hundred of his best warriors, shall go in unto the village and make friends with all, and be assiduous to please Kalulu, while the rest shall remain outside until the tenth night, when the hillmen from Amboella, the men from the soft pasture lands, the leas, and the meadows of the lake-land Itawa, when those of the fierce tribe of the Wazavila, the strong men of Urungu, and the tall men of Mohilizi, shall have been gathered together--then on the tenth night, while the warriors of Ferodia shall seize on Kalulu and some upon Soltali and other elders, some shall come to the gates, and stand there until it is time for those outside to act; then, when all is ready, let all rush in and slaughter and kill. In the morning, when the Watuta shall hear that Ferodia has conquered, they will be afraid, and will come to him in a body, as one man, and be faithful to him, as they were to Katalambula. But Kalulu must die--there can be no peace while he lives; and if it pleases Ferodia, let it be my task to wring off that young cock's head. O chief, these are the words of Tifum the Wicked." "Good, good!" all shouted enthusiastically; and even Ferodia was as loud as any in his approbation. The excellent advice of Tifum was acted upon; and the messengers were at once despatched in all directions, to rouse the subdued tribes and to enlist all the discontented to rally to Ferodia's standard, and to bid them all march by way of the great forest, and by night through the corn-fields as near as possible to Katalambula's village, and to be outside the village near the morning after the tenth night. Ferodia, selecting his warriors, out of which he again selected a chosen hundred--men of mettle and might, unscrupulous, and quick with their spears--proceeded the next morning for Katalambula's village, the Kwikuru of Ututa, while the discontented of the tribe of Meroeni hastened, by day and by night, to make ready their men for the great and momentous struggle. Tifum had with him as bearers several of the boy-slaves which were captured at Kwikuru of Urori, and who had endured the fatigues of the march with Selim and Abdullah; and among these was found the little negro boy Niani, who had so mysteriously disappeared from our view and our knowledge. These were not in bonds now; they had come to be entrusted by their new masters for their docility and weakness; and Niani had come to be quite a favourite with Tifum, who recognised the little fellow's shrewdness and deftness of hands. Ferodia, as he drew near Kwikuru, left the larger number of his warriors, and all the slaves and servants behind; and, taking with him only the choice hundred warriors, advanced upon the capital of the Watuta, and made his appearance before the gates, where, coming in the guise of friendship to congratulate the new King, he was heartily received, and admitted to the great square. Kalulu was disposed at first, when he was informed of Ferodia's arrival, to be resentful, and his mind was crowded with suspicious thoughts; but Ferodia's excessive courtesy and amiability, the warmth of his greeting and congratulations, soon disarmed the mind of the ingenuous youth, and, as well as he was able, he replied kindly, and tendered the hospitalities of the village. To Tifum's greeting Kalulu gave a cold and haughty nod; but Tifum was a diplomat of the first water, and, as needs must when needs drive, Tifum excelled Tifum's self in deceptive cordiality and genuflective graciosities. He was smiling and chatting now with Kalulu, and anon with Selim, who he declared had wonderfully improved; that he was now but a little less handsome and but a little shorter in height than Kalulu the new King, who was sure, by-and-by, to become a greater King than his grandfather Loralamba. He went up also to Simba, who had so bruised his body some time ago, and so purred and fondled that giant that Simba's repugnance became so strong that he told him to desist, that Arabs were not accustomed to carry their greetings with strangers in such a familiar way. But nothing could upset Wicked Tifum's equanimity and plans; he roared with laughter, and slapped his thighs so loudly that Moto began to think Tifum had lost his mind. Tifum, however, while Moto made the remark, caught sight of the sweet, pale face of Abdullah, and at once darted upon him; and, despite Abdullah's struggles, embraced the lad as if in him Tifum had found a lost son; but when he released him finally, Abdullah, while his face blushed crimson at this indignity, slapped Tifum full on the cheek; but the heroic Tifum did not mind that in the least; he only laughed louder than ever, though Abdullah thought he detected a fierce blaze of anger in his eyes. However, Ferodia and Tifum were inside Kwikuru, and the time intervening between their entrance into it and the night appointed for the consummation of their enterprise passed quickly and quietly enough. On the tenth morning Tifum communicated to Ferodia the gratifying intelligence that their friends were in the neighbourhood distributed among the villages of the tribe of Meroeni, three hours' distance. The tenth day passed tranquilly, and the night came. Not a single breath of suspicion had been uttered, though among themselves Kalulu and his friends expressed strong misgivings; but this was set down to their dislike to the ambitious Ferodia, and his cunning, intriguing, cruel parasite, Tifum the Wicked. Ah! could Kalulu have but known what devilish plans were lurking unseen in his village--what plot was hatching--what evil hung over him, how quickly had he sounded the cry of alarm, how different would he have acted; how he would have sprung as a leopard into their midst, and torn the conspirators into pieces! But neither Kalulu nor his friends dreamed of anything of all this evil, and drowsiness stole over their bodies, and gentle, unsuspicious slumber pressed their eyelids, and stilled their minds into unconsciousness. Notes. Loralamba, father of Katalambula and Mostana. Uwemba, a country bordering Lake Tanganika. Liemba, the river which sometimes gives its name to a portion of Ututa. Manyapara is a Kituta term for councillor, wise elder. Wa-marungu: people of Marungu. Kwikuru: the capital. Malungu: sky-spirit. Wakhokoro: a tribe north of Urori. Kinyala: a small country south-west of Ututa. Rufizi: a river. Zambesi: known as Chambezi. Mwenni: Lord. Simbamwenni: Lion lord, or Lion king. Wagala: people of Ugala. Wazvila: people of Uzavila--a scattered tribe north of Ututa. Mtuta: a man of Ututa. Watuta: the people of Ututa. CHAPTER ELEVEN. KING KALULU IS A PRISONER--POOR KALULU!--THE MAGIC DOCTOR IS BURNT-- KALULU IS TOLD TO PREPARE FOR DEATH--THE NIGHT FOLLOWING SOLTALI'S EXECUTION--THE MOUSE ASSISTS THE LIONS--THE END OF TIFUM THE WICKED--IS THIS MURDER?--NIANI CALLS IT "JUSTICE"--SAFE! AND FREE!--SELIM PLEADS TO KALULU--SELIM WANTS KALULU TO GO HOME WITH HIM--SIMBA THE GIANT PLEADS--THE HEAD OF TIFUM THE WICKED--THEY INTEND GOING TO UJIJI. About three hours before dawn a body of thirty men, under the leadership of Ferodia, made their appearance in the square outside of their sleeping quarters, the garish moonlight revealing them visibly clear. At the same time an equal number issued from the dark, cavernous doors of the tembe, and, after a whispered consultation with the first party, proceeded stealthily across the square to where Soltali lived; while forty men, dividing themselves into two parties, hastened towards the gates. Ferodia, seeing all at their posts, waited a short time, until he saw numbers of dark forms glide into the square, and until he was told that the warriors were pouring in by the two gates; he then proceeded towards the door of Kalulu's hut, and, after taking a quiet survey of the sleeping forms of Kalulu, Selim, and Abdullah, beckoned to Tifum and the warriors behind him, and suddenly sprang in with a piercing cry of triumph upon the prostrate and unconscious young King, while Tifum sprang upon Selim, and another warrior upon Abdullah. Warrior after warrior poured in, and in a short time the three boys found themselves, while yet not quite recovered from their sleep, hound and helpless prisoners. In the meantime the war-cry of the Watuta, sounded first by Ferodia, was caught up by all the warriors in the square, and was immediately echoed by each new comer, while crowds had hastened to the hut occupied by Simba and Moto, but only to find these wary men prepared for a resolute struggle. Neither Simba nor Moto, however, had had time to load their guns; they could only club them and crush each skull as it ventured into the darkened hut; but the roof was too low for Simba to exert the full power of his strong arm, so that, finally, numbers prevailed, and Simba and Moto found themselves at last prisoners, bound hand and foot. In a short time Ferodia found himself master of the village. The plan had been too well devised, too skilfully carried out, to fail. And each surprised warrior, when that first dreadful cry awoke him from his dreamy sleep, only awoke to find himself in the power of foes relentless and desperate. Every soul in the village was in the power of Ferodia, so that he found himself in the morning with over five thousand slaves-- for prisoners of war are always slaves in Central Africa. The chains found in the store-room of the King, which came formerly from the Arab camp near Kwikuru, in Urori, were of use now, and into the strong iron collars attached to them the necks of Kalulu, the two Arab boys, and the most refractory of the captured warriors, were placed; but as there were no locks, or they could not be found, the eyes of the folding iron crescents, which folding together formed the collars, were simply tied together firmly, while the hands of the captives were tightly hound behind. When all were secured with their hands in inexorable bonds behind their backs, they were marched outside by gangs, under chiefs, of ten and twenty warriors. Then the ivory, the cloth, the guns, the powder and bullets, and everything of value, were brought forth and distributed amongst the warriors and conveyed outside at a safe distance from the village. After all these things had been done the torch was applied to every tembe, and in an inconceivably short space of time the whole village was wrapped and encircled by the tongues of destroying flames; the straw, and the oil and butter found stored in the huts, and the resinous, gummy substance of the wood which formed the rafters and palisade, adding intensity to the flames, which were speedily devouring all. While the village--the scene of so much merrymaking, and fun, and innocent frolic, scene of the ceremonies, the rejoicings, which have found place in our history--was thus being ruthlessly destroyed, being rapidly reduced to black ashes, to be as a thing in our memories alone, to become only as a tradition for those unborn, the great sun arose as usual in the east with his usual splendour and grateful benignity to light the second epoch of misery through which Kalulu, Selim, and Abdullah passed, and to guide the footsteps of the enslaved King and Watuta on their way to slavery. Ah! ye, my young readers, surrounded by a halo of kindness and love, by the bloom, the brightness, and the happiness of a civilised life, with which Heaven has favoured you, can ye imagine the deep, indescribable misery in which the high-spirited young King found himself when he thoroughly realised the vast change in his condition that one short night had made in his existence? Assist me, then, with your imaginations; describe him to your own satisfaction, with his feelings all in one wild riot, with his confused senses struggling to picture himself as not having fallen to this state, endeavouring to draw one ray of brightness out of the dark gloom which environed him, and say for him, "God--the good, beneficent, all-seeing God--pity the poor prince and King!" And the author shall say, "Amen, and Amen!" Once cleared of the immediate neighbourhood, the captives were divided. The Wa-marungu, with their gangs of slaves, chose one road, towards Ferodia's village; the tribe of Meroeni chose another, with their slaves; the Wazavila chose another; while Ferodia, with five hundred warriors driving before them the gangs in which were found those in whom we have become interested, struck for the forest where Kalulu discovered Selim. Ferodia did not trouble the young King nor his friends, nor did Tifum venture near them; they both satisfied themselves from the rear that they were safe. After they had made a wide detour for many days through the forest, and come to a place where there was no road nor any signs of its being inhabited, and having completely baffled pursuit had such been ever made, and when they had made their camp, Ferodia drew near to the gang where Kalulu and his friends were found. Kalulu, as he saw his hated enemy approach, ground his teeth in rage, and foamed at the mouth like one suddenly stricken with madness, while Ferodia burst into a laugh and teased him to further exhibitions of fury, saying: "That is right, my little crow-cock, shake thy wings, fan the air with them, and utter a lusty crow, that the fish-eagles, whose screams I hear from yonder swamps, may try and vie with thee. I have wrung a boastful cock's head ere this, and Tifum has too. Hast thou not, Tifum?" "That have I done, my King!" answered that servile follower, who was close behind him. "Thou hearest, Kalulu, what Tifum says;" and, turning to Tifum, he asked, "Dost thou think, Tifum, thou couldst wring Kalulu's neck for me, and do it deftly and neatly?" "Try me, O King, nothing could please me better," answered Tifum, with a significant glance at Kalulu. "Kalulu's neck is slender, not much thicker than a grass stalk. Thou canst easily do it, I think, if thou wilt bury thy hand in those long, gay braids of his. Thou shalt try thy hand on him to-morrow." Advancing closer to him, he struck the boy in the chest with the butt of his spear. "Dost thou hear, boy!" But he did not retreat quickly enough, for the lithe form of Kalulu shot out and flung itself against him, and the boy's teeth were buried in Ferodia's neck, and he had surely strangled him had not Tifum, lifting his spear, struck him a mighty blow full on the spinal column, which almost paralysed Kalulu. "Thou fiend, and leopard's whelp, thou shalt die by torture to-morrow at break of day; meantime thou shalt see Soltali burning for daring to make thee King of the Watuta, and while he is burning thou shalt be stretched until thy limbs crack;" and thus saying, the angry chief strode away, rubbing his neck and fuming with passion, and gave orders that a fire should be built near a large tree, and that old Soltali should be brought forth. In a few minutes a great fire was sparkling and roaring at the foot of the central tree in the camp, and old Soltali was brought forth before Ferodia. "False mganga, seest thou you tree and that fire?" asked Ferodia. "I see it, Ferodia," answered the old man. "There shalt thou burn, and thy accursed ashes shall remain there to blacken and curse that tree, under which perished a false magician. Ho, Tifum! quick. Bring Kalulu here first, stretch him on this ground, with his face turned towards the magician, and let us see if Soltali's black art will save Kalulu from the pain he suffers, or himself from the fire." Kalulu was at once brought forth, and though he bit, and struggled, and kicked, he was pressed to the ground by overwhelming numbers, and four men tied cords to his limbs and began to draw them, until it seemed as if the young body would be torn asunder; after which the cords were fastened round pegs driven deep into the ground. Then the brutish Ferodia used the staff of his spear on his body, and, taunting him, bade him look up and see the false mganga, who had made him King, burning in the fire. The gang to which Selim, Abdullah, Simba, and Moto were chained was brought up and huddled together close to Kalulu. Soltali was dragged to the fire, and was tied to the tree; and the fire was pushed close to his feet, and new wood piled on it, and the smoke began to rise, and presently changed into flame. Then Soltali, finding the flames begin to scorch and burn him, raised his right hand and shouted out with all the strength of his feeble voice, saying: "Hearken, thou Ferodia, and ye savage Watuta. Ye think to triumph now, and make Ferodia king; but the will of the Sky-spirit must be done. Soltali had not made Kalulu king had it not been his will; Soltali obeyed but the voice of the Sky-spirit. Thou hast triumphed only for a time, Ferodia. Kalulu shall be king, must be king. Thou shalt see a bitter end, O Ferodia, to which my sufferings may not be compared; and thou, Tifum, shalt have thy head taken from off thy body, and the kite and the vulture shall pick out thine eyes. Moshono, who was burnt by the Wa-marungu, calls to Soltali. Soltali goes before thee, Tifum; and thou shalt follow me, O Ferodia. I come, great Moshono, I come. Mosh--" Before he could utter the last word Soltali's aged head fell upon his breast, while still the flames leaped up and embraced him with their fiery arms, until, finally, the green bark cords which bound him shrivelled up and snapped beneath the weight of the superincumbent mass, and Soltali's body fell forward, while the sparks were shot up and the flames blazed anew. The warriors hastened to pile up wood, but Selim and Abdullah turned their faces away, unable to bear the horrid scene. Ferodia turned to Kalulu and said, "To-morrow thou shalt die, as sure as Soltali has died. To-night lie where thou art, and when the sun rises be thou prepared to follow him. Tifum shall try his hand on thee." "Ah, Ferodia, thou hast heard the voice of the good Soltali. The Sky-spirit has said I shall be king. Look to thyself, for I shall kill thee yet. Thou robber, cutthroat, and coward, dost thou hear me?" cried Kalulu. "Talk away, and crow, my little cockling. Talk as long as thou canst, if it give thee any comfort. Nay, thou mayst burst thyself with talking if thereby thou wilt ease thyself, but to-morrow Tifum shall cut thy head off, and I will get strong medicine out of it. I have said it." So saying Ferodia walked away, but Tifum could not refrain from going up to Kalulu. He encircled his neck with his hand, and, giving it a gentle pressure, said: "Ah, Kalulu, to-morrow my knife shall sever that head of thine from thy body. The pain will soon be over, for Tifum's knife is sharp, and I will sharpen it still more, Kalulu, to-night, so that thou mayst suffer but little pain. Am I not good, Kalulu? I shall boil those cheeks of thine with my porridge, and think as I eat them how often they were patted by the silly old King Katalambula. Sleep in peace to-night, Kalulu. Sleep well, for it will be thy last night's sleep. Farewell!" "Stay, Tifum Byah, stay one moment," cried Kalulu gently, as if he dearly loved the wretch. "Didst thou hear Soltali's words?" "Ay, certainly I did. Am I deaf?" asked Tifum. "Dost thou not fear the fate Soltali promised thee?" asked Kalulu, with mock earnestness. "I fear a mad old man's ravings! Tifum the Wicked fear what Soltali said! Bah, bah; sleep, Kalulu, go to sleep." "But stay one moment and hear me. Kalulu shall be King over the Watuta, and he will take thy head off surely, and give it to the Kituta dogs. Come here and bend thy head, closer, I wish to tell thee something," said Kalulu, as he nodded with his head. "There, so! How dost thou like--" but that moment Kalulu buried his sharp teeth in Tifum's cheeks, and held on with the tenacity of a bull-dog, while Tifum, uttering a shrill cry of pain, could only release himself by clutching the boy's neck and strangling him to unconsciousness. Tifum's face bore a frightful wound, for the teeth, filed into a point in front, according to the customs of the Ututa, had bitten a piece clean out, leaving the cheek-bone exposed, which quite spoiled what beauty he had for ever. As he felt the havoc made in his cheek the man uttered a frightful howl, and seized a spear-staff and began to belabour the unconscious boy. He probably would have beaten him to death had not Ferodia appeared and ordered him to desist, and to reserve his revenge for the morrow, when he might take it in full. It was difficult to restrain the infuriated man, while his whole head tingled with the most exquisite pain; but then Ferodia was King, and a King's commands must be obeyed even though his whole body ached, and he at last turned away moaning over his wound. Soltali, the Mganga, was more feared when dead than when alive, it seemed, for while his body was being rapidly consumed the people had begun to move their camp a few yards off, none daring to erect his hut near the awful ashes of the magician, and as night came, with its sombre shades filling the whole forest with almost palpable darkness, and thick, dark, formless shadows, it was noticeable that they still further retreated from the death tree, and whispered to each other their belief that Soltali's spirit was in the tree, with great angry eyes of fire, looking down at the camp. Thus the mortal ashes of the old doctor, whom they had so cruelly murdered, were left alone by the superstitious people, and Kalulu, helplessly stretched near by, was the only living being within fifty yards of the dread embers which covered the remains of Soltali. Tifum the Wicked, too much engrossed with the pain of his wound, had seen nothing of this movement, for he had retired to his hut, with his head close to the door to breathe the cool air of the night. In his hut were the spoils from Katalambula's village, which his own particular slaves had carried for him. Among these were two bales of cloth, ten fine ivory tusks, a keg of powder, a bag of bullets, three or four guns, and, singular as it might seem, was Selim's gun, the Joe Manton which Sheikh Amer had purchased for his son, through his Bombay agent. This accident may be attributed to Tifum's cupidity, who had appropriated this gun as his own, on seeing that it was of a superior class to all others, as well as the belt, which contained a large supply of ammunition. Ferodia would very probably have appropriated such a fine weapon for himself had he not been so occupied with the extent of his success and fortune. The night grew deeper and more sombre. Melancholy sounds were heard at intervals through the forest, and the superstitious warriors ascribed these to the restlessness of the spirit of Soltali, consequently they huddled into their huts, forgot the cravings of their stomachs, and sought in the cosy warm huts a temporary oblivion from their fears and superstitious troubles, and, as the night got still more aged, even moaning Tifum became tranquil and slept. When the camp had become as still as though no five hundred warriors with strong lungs and a healthy capacity for noise within them slept in that darkness, Niani's light, active, boyish form, who hitherto has been unnecessarily neglected, began to move from the neighbourhood of a fire where, along with other slaves, he had curled himself to rest, but not to sleep, in the direction of the slave-gang to which his master, Selim, Abdullah, gigantic Simba, and Moto belonged. The pale-coloured forms of the two Arab boys were clearly discernible, and choosing the tallest, he crept up to him, and gently placing his hand over the mouth of Selim, whom he rightly judged it to be, he bent his head low down to his ear. "I am Niani, your slave; be still, master. I have come to save you, for I have heard Tifum swear that to-morrow you shall die with Kalulu. Hush! I have my knife. I shall cut your bonds, and those of your friends, and we shall all go away far." So saying Niani released his hand, and with his knife parted the hark rope that fastened the iron collar, and in a second Selim felt his neck free from the ignominious chain. Niani crept to Abdullah, and performed the same kindness for him upon the express condition that he should lie still until the hint was given to rise. From Abdullah Niani crept to Simba, and told that wondering giant who he was, and why he was there. Simba understood at once, and slightly turned over that Niani might cut the bonds which confined his hands behind his back, and raised his head that he might be released from the collar. Moto's turn came next, and in a short time he was also free. Each head was now touched, and they at once rose and followed Niani past the sleeping forms, by the fires, and past the open huts confidently, but still quietly, until they came behind the fatal tree at whose base lay the ashes of poor old Soltali. "Now, Master Selim, speak, what is to be done?" asked little Niani in a low voice. "Let Simba and Moto answer; but we must not go without Kalulu, for rather than go without him I will go back and die with him." "I don't intend to go either without him," said Abdullah. "I would count it a deed worthy of paradise to die with him, and by his side. Here, give me the knife, I will go and cut his bonds." "No, no, master," said Simba, "I want to go back for a particular purpose, besides rescuing Kalulu. Thou, Moto, stay here, and if any alarm is made, then do thou run east, and in the morning turn south. Here, Niani, come with me. Give me that knife." They both disappeared on the other side of the tree, and Simba, crawling on his hands and knees, followed by Niani, made towards where Kalulu lay stretched in anguish of body and mind. When he had advanced sufficiently near, Simba whispered the boy's name with a warning--"Hush!" Simba was presently close to Kalulu; and, after informing him of his purpose, soon freed him from his painful position, and Kalulu sat up, though feeling almost too sore and cramped to move. Simba waited patiently for the first feeling of numbness to wear away, then whispered to him: "Kalulu, dost thou remember Soltali's words? Soltali said that Tifum's head should be taken from off his body. I am going to take it now. Wilt thou come?" The instant these words were suggested all feeling of soreness vanished, and the boy sprang up and was about to shout his gladness, when the big hand of Simba was placed over his mouth, and he whispered: "Nay, not a word, not a breath, as thou dost value our lives. Our friends are behind that tree; they are waiting for us. Thou must obey me now, if success is what thou dost hope for." Kalulu clasped his hand, and understood at once what was necessary, and followed Simba, who was preceded by Niani, without further remark. When near Tifum Byah's hut Niani, who was as cunning as the nature of the mammal from whom he derived his name, stopped, and pointed silently to the hut, which stood alone and removed a good distance from any other that was inhabited. Simba turned to Kalulu, and, handing him the knife which he had received from Niani, whispered to him: "Stay here silent as a dead tree, until thou dost hear my signal," to which a nod of the head only was given for reply. "Now, Tifum the Wicked," whispered the resolute mind of Simba to itself, "it is either I or thou; I think thou. Selim's stripes have to be paid for with thy blood; if not Selim's, then Kalulu's wrongs. But how can I ever pay thee for all? Sheikh Amer, my master; poor Isa; little Mussoud;" and the busy mind fanned itself into a white heat of anger, and churned the deep hate into a white foam of fury; and the Nemesis, in the form of this mighty, big-muscled man, stood over him, Tifum the Wicked. The great form bent, and suddenly drooped, with two great bony, sinewy hands clutching the sleeping man's throat, crushing, compressing bone, gristle, sinew, and vein into a soft, yielding, pulpy mass, until there was no breath of life nor power of motion left in him. All had been done so quietly--the deed of stern vengeance so quickly, coolly executed, that Kalulu started with surprise as he heard the signal; he could hardly believe it to have been consummated, yet he advanced determinedly, as if his help was to be needed. Think of Simba needing help for such an ordinary creature as Tifum. "Cut it off!" said Simba, and Kalulu, nothing loth, bent down and severed the head off without one remorseful pang, and the body of Tifum was headless; and the prediction of Soltali had become thus soon verified. Simba and Kalulu were about to move off, when Niani stepped up and whispered: "The guns in his hut!" "Ah, true," and Simba turned round and gave Niani a couple of guns, to Kalulu he gave one, he reserved one for himself, then went into the hut, found the powder bag, the load of bullets and ammunition; snatched a bow, a quiver full of arrows, a couple of spears, and a long Arab sword, which Tifum had also appropriated, and with the booty, too valuable to be measured at a money value for such an expedition as he now proposed to himself, he withdrew as silently as he had come. Once at the tree the guns were distributed, one to Abdullah, one to Moto, the "Joe Manton" to Selim, who hugged it to his heart, while Simba retained another. To Kalulu he gave a spear with the bow, and a quiver full of arrows. Niani got another spear, while he also received the precious powder-keg to carry. Simba carried the bullets and sword. Kalulu still carried the ghastly load, but nothing was said to any of the others of the deed that was done. Simba merely said "Come," and the five followed him obediently. "Four hours more of night till dawn," said Simba, after they had got a little distance off. "We must march south. Come." In a hard, dry, trackless forest, when once a fugitive escapes it becomes impossible to find him. Had Kalulu not taken the precaution to strip himself of his cloth, and place the head of Tifum in it, it is probable that the fugitives might have been pursued; but there was no clue to the direction they had taken, for five hundred warriors had trodden the ground all around while hunting for fruit, or sticks, or water for cooking, the day before, even if the hard drouthy ground might have received the impression of a few men's naked feet. And the natural questions the warriors would ask themselves and each other in the morning would be, "Which way have they gone? Is it north, south, east, or west? or any other of the lesser or intermediate points?" to which, of course, no definite answer could be given; while the more superstitious would say, "Ah! it is Soltali who has taken them away!" and would fear to leave their fellows. Simba, Moto, and Kalulu knew this, and though they journeyed fast, they journeyed confidently. But, as each of the party was busy with his own thoughts, no words were exchanged until it was grey morning, and day had more power to pierce the gloom of the forest than the old moon, which but faintly showed them their way before morning, when Selim saw some mysterious bundle in Kalulu's hand, and asked him what it was. "Don't ask now, Selim, my brother, we must march," said Kalulu, and nothing more was said until at nine o'clock they stopped at a swamp to refresh themselves with water, when Kalulu setting down his bundle to drink, the cloth fell off one side, and exposed the head of a man. "Allah!" ejaculated Selim, profoundly astonished; "what is this?" and Abdullah also cried out in astonishment the same words. "What should it be, my brothers, but the head of Tifum the Wicked?" asked Kalulu. "But this is murder, is it not?" asked Selim, aghast at the unsightly and livid head. "Murder!" echoed Simba; "I think not, young master. It may be with thy people, but with Kalulu cut off his head. Was Tifum not going to cut off Kalulu's head?--and perhaps thine, for he hated thee enough, Allah knows." "Yes," said Niani, "I heard Tifum swear he would do it." "Well, but he did not do it, and I am sorry, Simba, thou hast thus needlessly taken life," said Selim, with difficulty repressing a shudder. "Selim, son of Amer, permit Simba, the Mrundi, to ask thee if thou hast already forgotten thy dead father, thy kinsmen, thine own miseries? Say, where is Isa? Where is little Mussoud? How was Abdullah treated? What became of Kalulu, thy friend? Where is Soltali? What has become of the village of Katalambula? I tell thee, young master, that if an Arab boy can so soon forget these, I, a Mrundi, cannot; and were Tifum the Wicked possessed of a thousand lives, I would take a life of his at every opportunity. What sayest thou, Moto, my friend? Have I not said well?" "Quite right, my brother Simba, I should have done the same; and I am only sorry it fell to thy lot to take his life, because I should like to have taken it myself," answered Moto promptly. "What sayest thou, Kalulu?" asked Simba of the young chief. "Here is my answer," answered Kalulu, pointing to the head, which he picked up and tossed into the air, smiling as the head fell on its nose. "What sayest thou, Abdullah? thou who art an Arab, and the son of an Arab?" asked Simba. "The Kuran says: `_And if thy enemy depart not from thee, and offer thee peace, and restrain his hand from warring against thee, take him and hill him wheresoever thou dost find him, for over him God has granted the true believer a manifest power_' Since the prophet Mohammed (blessed be his name) speaks on thy side, Simba, far be it from Abdullah, son of Sheikh Mohammed, to say thou hast done wrong in this fearful thing. I think thou hast done right," answered Abdullah gravely. "Then, if the Kuran says so, I, Selim, son of Amer, am convinced thou hast done right," said Selim, as he hastened up, and, with an apologetic look, begged Simba's pardon. "I, Niani, the mtuma (slave) of Selim, the son of Amer, do pronounce that Simba did right," cried the little negro, with an assurance which made all smile, and for a moment forget their previous mood. "But what art thou going to do with the head, Keklu?" asked Selim. "I am going to take medicine from it," replied Kalulu, "to make my arm strong against Ferodia, when we get to the camp," folding it up in the cloth again as he spoke. "Ah, don't, Kalulu, for my sake," pleaded Selim with earnest eyes; "don't, it is bad; only the lowest and most degraded do that. Cast the ugly thing away, and let it be food for the fowls of the air and the beasts of prey." "It has been the custom of the Watuta to do such things, and if I do not do it Kalulu will never be king," replied the young chief, resolutely moving forward. "It has been the custom of the Warundi too, and of all the tribes around here that I have met," said Simba. "Let Kalulu do as he will with it, young master." "But thou art a Moslem, Simba; thou art not a Mrundi infidel now;" urged Selim, whose feelings revolted at such a degraded idea. "Ay, I am a Moslem in name, but a Mrundi in heart, master; and when I think of all that Tifum the Wicked has done, and would have done, I myself should like to take medicine from it," replied Simba, with a vengeful look. "But Simba," said Abdullah, "the Kuran says we `_are forbidden to eat that which dieth of itself, and blood, and swine's flesh, and that on which the name of any beside God hath been invoked, and that which hath been strangled_.'" "Al Forkan" (the Kuran) "is a holy book, Simba, that may not be disregarded, and he that turneth his back to it shall surely perish," added Selim. "I am not going to eat Tifum's head; the Warundi do not eat men. They only take medicine from them; but if the good book says it is wicked, I give you my word I shall not do it," responded Simba. "But let us march, we have no time to talk," and setting the example, by vigorous strides, he induced the little party to strain themselves to keep up with him; and from this time until sunset there were few words exchanged, except a remark now and then upon some exceptional feature of the forest through which they were travelling. At sunset the fugitives were obliged to halt, and seeing a dense jungle clump before them, they sought an opening which led to it, which they presently discovered, narrow and a little inconvenient, but it led them into a delicious and secure resting-place. The camp, which they now intended to make, was surrounded by an impenetrable hedge, about fifty feet thick and about twelve feet high, of thorn and cactus, aloetic plants, convolvuli, all-interlacing, embracing, twining round each other, each leaf, or twig, or branch armed at all points with a myriad thorns, through which a boa-constrictor might in vain attempt to pass, a man never, were he armed in triple steel, least of all a rude savage; while inside was soft, green, silken grass, and a small circular depression in its centre like a "buffalo-wallow," which contained water. Could anything have been more tempting than this? Surely not. Had the most cunning Moto devised the best protection he could, he had never conceived anything more formidable against naked man or beast! And the two Arab boys laughed merrily, and rubbed their hands together, as they thought how secure they were. Simba, who had assumed the leadership, as though leadership was an everyday thing to him, looking around, said: "We are safe. No Watuta can find us here, but we are short of food, and boys become hungry soon. In the morning we must look for food, as we journey south. What dost thou think, Moto? is this forest likely to last much longer?" "I know not, friend Simba. I should think not; but the minute it becomes thinner and more open we shall see game," replied that clever woodsman, with so much confidence that Selim, Abdullah, and Niani began to smack their lips, as if they already tasted the luscious, juicy meat of fat game. "Simba, I know this forest well," cried Kalulu; "but before I say anything about it, I must know where thou dost intend to go." "Ah! where?" asked Simba, looking at Moto, and speaking in a tone which was more of a doleful echo than a question. "Where?" said Moto, in the same tone, looking at Simba. "I must know," said Kalulu. "We are far from pursuit now. Ferodia might as well look for the honey-bird, hiding his head in a hole, as look for us. Speak, Simba and Moto, where do ye both intend to go?" "Answer thou, young chief," replied Simba and Moto, together. "I? Well, let it be so," he answered. "I mean to return towards the east, through the forest, and then turn up north and west, and seek out every man left of my tribe, and make war against Ferodia. Make war on the traitorous thief, until every man that lifted spear in his cause shall be even as this carrion is," (pointing to the chilled head of Tifum). "War, until all my enemies shall fall, and be utterly destroyed as the dry grass of the summer is destroyed by a fire. That is what I intend beginning to do at sunrise to-morrow;" and as the young chief said the last few words he sprang to his feet, and dashed his spear deep into the now unoffending head of Tifum the Wicked, and his whole body quivered with the fury that animated him. While he was thus imagining that he had already his enemies low at his feet, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and as he turned his head around he saw the gentle, winning face of Selim turned up to him with pleading eyes, and heard him say: "Kalulu, thou art still the King of the Watuta to us; sit down quiet by my side, like, my brother Abdullah and little Niani here, and listen to what thy brother Selim has to say." The friendship he entertained for Selim came to the aid of the Arab boy, and this, together with the kindly tones and sympathising eyes turned towards him, completely subdued him, and he sat down, and for the first time, to our knowledge, Kalulu wept. Selim's tender heart could not bear the proud young chief's tears, and he also wept out of sheer sympathy. "Kalulu," said Selim, when he had conquered this feeling, and could command firmness of voice, "when I was dying of hunger in the forest thou didst come to my aid, and, pitying me, a friendship grew in thy heart towards me, and when I opened mine eyes, and saw thy large black eyes rest on me with so much pity, so much love in them for me, who until then was as one doomed to die a lingering death, was as an outcast from Nature, I learned to love thee as my brother. The blood ceremony was made, and I gladly became a brother to thee. When I was in the village, and I felt Tifum's heavy hand on me, with the cruel order of Ferodia ringing in my ears, thou didst again come like a good angel to my aid; and in my heart I blessed God and thee. When Abdullah struggled in the dark waters, and the greedy crocodile snapped him by the leg, and drew him down out of sight, down into the depths, I cried out in my agony, `Oh, save him!' and thou, ever our good angel, didst leap into the depths, and far out of sight thou didst grapple with the monster, and in a short time didst bring him--Abdullah--back to life and to his friend. When thou wert made king, and thou hadst power of life and death over an immense multitude of warriors given unto thee, I did ask thee for permission to go to my own home at Zanzibar, to lift the veil of sorrow from my mother's eyes, and thou didst promise to give me wealth, and abundance, and men under thine own command to protect me on the way. But evil days came. Ferodia, like a thief in the night, came with a great number of men; they took thy power from thee, made thyself, and ourselves, and thy people prisoners and slaves. They bound thee, and made thee--a king--also a slave; and until last night thou wert in bonds, and yesterday thou wert beaten like the meanest, and to-day's sun was to rise on thy corpse. But Niani--good Niani, whom I believed to be created only for mischief and fun--rose in the night, and delivered us all from the power of Ferodia; and we are all here safe from our enemies, and free once more. Allah be praised for ever!" Kalulu was sobbing violently, and Selim, when he heard his sobs, could hardly refrain from joining him, but, conquering the feeling with an effort, he continued: "Kalulu, my brother, it is but a little thing that I am going to ask of thee, yet if thou wilt but grant it me, thou wilt make Selim happy--ay, happier even than when thou didst whisper the sweet words in my ear--`Thou art free! Thou art my brother!' I fear to ask it of thee, lest thou wouldst hurt me with a refusal." "Speak, Selim; what can Kalulu do for thee? Have I not told thee long ago thou hast but to command me. Yet what have I to give thee? Was not Kalulu a slave yesterday? Ha! ha! what has a slave to give?" and the young chief laughed bitterly. "Thou hast more to give me than ever thou didst possess, Kalulu. Wilt thou promise it me what I shall ask." "Thou art but mocking me; but I give thee my promise, and a promise is not broken lightly by a Mtuta chief," Kalulu answered. "Then listen, O my brother! At Zanzibar I have a beautiful home; and all around it are trees, great trees, like those in the forest, heavy with yellow globes of sweetness, called oranges, others borne down with great fruit larger than the matonga (_Nux vomica_) of the forest, which are sweeter than honey, and are called mangoes; and there are tall trees, called palms, which bear nuts large as thy head, full of milky wine, so refreshing when thou art thirsty, that thou wilt recall the time when thy mother suckled thee, and laughed at the greediness of her bright, baby boy; and there are numbers of others, which give both fruit to fill a man's spirit with delight, and others to give perfume, which, when a man inhales it, his senses become suffused with pleasure; and as for the vegetables which my fields and gardens furnish, there is nothing in all ututa, or the lands adjoining, to compare with them. There are squashes, and pumpkins, and melons, blue and purple egg-plants, cucumbers, chick-peas, and beans, yams, sweet potatoes, white and yellow tomatoes, and plaintains, and bananas, and numbers of things thou dost not dream of. And then my house--ah! there is nothing like it in all Negro-land; it is as high as the tallest tree, and as large almost as the great square of thy Tillage, all of white stone; the floors, instead of being of earth or of sand, are of white stone, smooth and shining as the stillest, whitest water thou hast ever seen; and the beds are of down and of finest, whitest cloth, which when thou dost rest thy body upon them will cause thee to sleep and forget all troubles; and from the upper doors, which we call windows in Arab land, thine eyes rest upon the great blue sea, and the laughing wares, which murmur of love, and beauty, and pleasure all the day. It is to this beautiful home I invite thee, my brother. It is to these scenes of holy love, and God's beauty, which He has given to me, that I wish to take thee; and to my dear mother, who will be to thee as she is to me; who will love thee for what thou hast done for her child, as she loves her own son; to my beautiful mother, whose face is as white as yon white cloud, and as beautiful as the moon, I wish thee to come. Say, Kalulu, wilt thou come, and share my sweet mother's love with me? Say, wilt thou come, and let me show thee the wonders of Zanzibar?" Kalulu answered not; he never ceased sobbing while Selim spoke; he seemed loth to give the answer in the affirmative, yet he remembered his promise, and he remembered it was Selim who was asking him a favour. A few seconds, therefore, passed in this silence; but when it was finally broken it was by Simba's deep voice, who said: "Those are wise words, young chief, that Master Selim has spoken. Neither Moto nor I could have thought of them; but the boy's heart has spoken wiser words than Simba and Moto's heads together could have spoken. Young chief, thou shalt yet be King of Ututa; but it will be better first that thou goest to Zanzibar, where thine eyes may see strange things, and thy head learn wisdom. I, Simba, a servant of Selim, could not have invited thee to Zanzibar, because Simba has but a very little hut, not bigger than a camp-cote, where the hunter has to coil himself up like a serpent. My hut would then have been no place for the King of the Watuta; but Master Selim has got a big house, bigger than any king's house in Negro-land; he has numbers of servants, cattle, goats, donkeys, gardens, fields, and fruit-trees, and his riches are beyond my knowledge. Oh! I see light and hope now, young chief. I know what is best for all of us. I know how thou, by going to Zanzibar, may come to Ututa a greater king than Loralamba even. I'll tell thee how. Through the aid of Selim thou wilt become acquainted with numbers of rich Arabs, whom thou wilt like when thou wilt know them better. They are good men at heart, though some are bad, as there are bad men everywhere. This acquaintance will benefit thee and them, for after thou shalt have rested a year or two at Zanzibar, thou wilt be able to induce them to come with thee to thine own country, when for their aid to set thee in thy rights, thou wilt be able to give them back the Arab slaves Ferodia took at Kwikuru, and give them ivory in abundance; and they will make thee rich in cloth and fine things: thou wilt by that time, through the knowledge of such things obtained at Zanzibar, be able to judge of what is good, and what is bad; thou wilt be able to build thy villages strong against every attack of evil men, to conquer Ferodia, and every tribe round about, to make thy country great, so there will be none other like unto it; so that thy name and glory be sung in all the corners of the earth. To be a great king thou must teach thyself and learn many things; and this thou canst do by going to Zanzibar. I have said it." Then Kalulu, impulsive youth that he was, sprang up and cried, "Enough, Selim, thou hadst almost persuaded me; but Simba has conquered me. I shall go to Zanzibar, I shall learn how to be a great king, and I shall come back to Ututa a strong, big man like thou, Simba; then let Ferodia look to himself. Let him live upon the fatness of the land. Let him enjoy his gains until Kalulu comes back, then by Soltali's ashes, by the grave of Mostana, by the black ruins of Katalambula's village, I shall have fullest revenge. I have spoken." "Good--good--good," cried all at once, and Selim sprang up and embraced him, while Simba and Moto took each a hand and shook it eagerly, while little Niani jumped and hopped about as though he were a real monkey, whereas he was only a monkey in name, and Abdullah, after Selim released him, insisted also upon the same right to embrace him, and promised upon the Kuran to come back with him to Watuta and see him righted. There was such joy in the little camp, closed in by that impenetrable jungle hedge, such as we are certain was never seen before, and never will be seen there again. "There is one other little thing I should like to see Kalulu do," said Selim, smiling, but looking on the ground nevertheless. "What? anything else for me to do? Well, I will do it. Speak," replied Kalulu, lifting Selim's head up with his hand so that he could see his face. "Thou art so good, Kalulu, to promise me so many things before thou knowest what it is I am going to ask. Thou knowest that I am very timid and fearful, and I could not sleep to-night quietly with that ugly head so near me, and--" Kalulu rose immediately, and taking hold of the head by the hair, he tossed it into the middle of the jungle hedge, where, rolling through a little, it remained fixed in the forks of a thorn-bush situated exactly in the middle of the hedge, where it was more effectively buried safer from all living creatures than were it buried ten feet deep in the earth. "Good--good," cried Abdullah and Selim, really more rejoiced and feeling safer from Tifum than they liked to confess. "Now," said Simba, when each person's feelings were calmed, "let us talk of other matters. Kalulu, thou knowest this country. How can we get away to Zanzibar?" "But where is Zanzibar?" asked Kalulu, surprised. "It ought to be east directly from here, just where the sun rises every morning," answered Simba. "I can show the way to Urori; but what lies beyond Urori I do not know," said Kalulu. "We are too small a party to be able to go through Uhehe alone," said Simba. "That won't do. What do you suggest, Moto?" he asked of his friend. "If I were anywhere on the track of the traders," answered that wise and cautions old hunter, "I would soon find out. If I were in Marungu or in Usowa I could soon tell. Did I not hear thee say, Kalulu, that there lay a lake, a large body of water somewhere about here?" "Yes, Lake Liemba; there is no end to it. It runs towards the north," replied Kalulu. "Lake Liemba! Liemba!" said Moto to himself, like one trying to remember whether he had ever heard the name before. "I never heard of Liemba that I know of. I have been on Lake Tanganika several times in going from Ujiji to--" "Ujiji!" said Kalulu, in a surprised tone. "Ujiji! I never heard the Watuta travellers talk about the Tanganika; but I have always heard that Ujiji was on Liemba, not far from Usowa, but further up." "Wallahi!" shouted Moto. "Then Lake Tanganika is only another name for Lake Liemba, for Ujiji is on Lake Tanganika, and Usowa is only a few days south of Ujiji. First after Ujiji there is Kawendi; then we come to Usowa; and after that is Uwemba--no, not Uwemba--Ufipa; and after Ufipa, Uwemba; then we always went straight to Marungu." "If thou canst go from Ujiji to Marungu, then," said Kalulu, "or to Wemba or Usowa, the road is easy, if thou knowest the road from Ujiji to Zanzibar." "Ah! don't I?" answered Moto, in a triumphant tone. "I will find the road from Ujiji to Zanzibar. I have travelled the road five times from Ujiji to Zanzibar, and I ought to know it. I have been guide to Sayd bin Hashid from Unyanyembe to Ujiji; but there is a better and nearer road to Zanzibar from Fipa to Usowa; then to Ukorongo and Unyanyembe." "Well, then," said Simba, "what we have got to do is to reach this lake, whence it is easy to reach Ufipa or Usowa, and from thence to Unyanyembe, after which it will be easy to get to Zanzibar." "I know the road to the Lake," said Kalulu, "for I was on the lake some moons ago. It ought to lie just where you saw the sun set to-night about twenty days' march from here. But between us and this lake is Ferodia's country. We should go a week further this way (pointing to the south), then turn round and go up, slowly towards the lake." "Ngema--Ngema" (good, good), all cried delighted. "To-morrow we will continue the journey south, and after a week we will pick our way toward this lake, and Inshallah! we shall see Zanzibar within five moons from now," said Simba. "And to-morrow we shall get food--Inshallah!" said Moto. "Inshallah, Inshallah!" all the Moslems cried. They now proceeded to divide their ammunition, the powder and the bullets for Simba and Moto and Abdullah; while Selim, on inspecting his cartridge-bag, found a box with a thousand caps and one hundred bullets for his "Joe Manton." Kalulu employed himself in examining the string of his bow; while Niani, seeing everybody else examine his weapon, thought he might as well follow their example, and began to look at the blade of his spear in a wise manner, and delighted everybody with the news that it was sharp. CHAPTER TWELVE. MORNING IN THE AFRICAN FOREST--BUFFALO--THE SUCCESSFUL STALKING--PLENTY OF BEEF--LITTLE NIANI'S STORY--THE END OF NIONI'S STORY--SIMBA ADOPTS NIANI AS HIS SON--THE TORMENTS OF A JUNGLE--JUNGLE AND PLAIN--THE JOURNEY AND ITS FATIGUES--THE LION--THE LION DESPOILED OF HIS MANE--A CORNFIELD--A CHANCE OF ESCAPE. As the sky began to flush and brighten, and to be suffused with colour as it heralded the uprising sun, our party of travellers, cosily asleep in their camp, began to yawn and to stretch their limbs until they were finally awake, and sat up. There were no tents to pack, there were no loads to prepare for the journey; there was nothing for them to do but to shake off the grass and soft earth on which they had slept from their bodies, leave the camp, and march. This they did. Nothing is so delightful as an African forest at break of day, where there is no high grass dripping with dew, no cane with its sword leaves to slash you wet with a showering rain as you pass under, nothing but the soft brown leaf-mould on the ground into which the feet sink as into a thick Persian carpet, thus giving you ample opportunities to observe the beauty of a forest at early morn, without inconvenience or anxiety on the score of your health. The forest, with its countless trees, each loaded with its wealth of leaves and twigs, seems in the first grey opaque light before sunrise to have been planted, full-grown, and decked with light green leaves during the chaos of night, as they stand in their several positions row upon row in numbers untold, all wonderfully silent and still, awaiting the issue of the morning. And while they stand thus apparently labouring under excitement, though outwardly still as death, in the grey light and opacity through which the trees were first seen, there suddenly dart myriads of bright sheets of brilliant whiteness, which soon alternate with some of the hue of pale gold-and-yellow, and unconsciously the brilliant sheets of colour of glory have become indistinguishable in the general light of day which has at last come. Then, in harmony with the advent of the glorious day, the trees seem to recover from their astonishment, and their leaves begin to rustle and whisper to each other their gentle comments on the great change which the sun has wrought; and from afar, borne by the breath of the wind to the human ears bent on listening, comes the low murmur of wakened life, the songs of birds, the fish-eagle's and paroquet's discordant cries, the hum of busy termites at work, the murmur of lady-birds, the whir of gadflies and tsetse, the startling "crick" of crickets; and away, almost at your feet, rushes the frightened landrail uttering a piercing cry, and above your head flies the guinea-hens which, unknown to you, had roosted on the tree-bough just above, with an assumed terror, which provokes your smile; and presently the hyaena is heard uttering his last farewell howl as he hies to his den to shun the honest sunlight, and the lion sends his last farewell roar, filling the forest with its awful sound, and the young fawns and horned antelope are seen browsing on the sweet fresh grass, which is decked with many a minute head, and the elands and the kudu, the sable buck and hartebeest, blue-buck and zebra, are beheld munching and chewing in the glades with might and main, as if they had a task to fulfil before the end of some set time, which we may take as a warning that we have also our appointed work, and must be up and doing. This beautiful transformation from the gloam of the morning to the full burst of day was seen and enjoyed by the most poetical of our travellers, as they marched as rapidly as their waning strength would permit them after the tireless forms of Simba and Moto. They had marched an hour, and the whole forest, which to them was a world, was all aglow with insect life, when Simba suddenly halted, with his finger pointing towards an open country bounded by hills in the far distance, and said in a whisper, "Mbogo" (buffalo). The excitement became general, and the question which first came to each lip was, "Where are they?" but following the direction towards which Simba's finger pointed, they were able to discern with difficulty three or four black specks in a portion of the open country which apparently was the same Ututa plain which had bounded the forest to the right all the time. Simba, Moto, Selim, Abdullah, and Kalulu, at once and instinctively struck for the open plain, followed by Niani, who, with his single spear, looked as important as one could well be, and who seemed to think that all the buffaloes would eventually fall beneath his hand. Arriving on the edge of the forest, Simba, in order to make sure of one of them, separated his forces, each about forty yards from the other, with instructions to crawl towards the animals and surround them on all but the windward side; to make no noise, and to wait for a low whistle to rise up and fire. After each of them had promised faithfully for the commonweal to obey such injunctions, which were also impressed on their minds emphatically by the hunter Moto, the laborious task of working their way towards the animals began. Fortunately the wind was from the westward, so they were not compelled to make any detour to avoid tainting the air, and between the buffaloes and themselves rose several low hummocks, ancient ant-hills deserted long ago, and now covered with dense tall yellow grass. The plain was also covered with the same tall grass, but at their base grew the young herbage--signs of the coming spring and rainy season now fast advancing--which probably was that upon which the buffaloes fed. To our people it was a serious matter to fail, as their hungering stomachs could not sustain their bodies much longer in their march, without replenishment soon; besides, the excitement of the escape from cruel bondage had vanished, so that it became a vital necessity to obtain food. This strong, urgent necessity probably compelled their caution, and taught each person the art of stalking much sooner than they had any idea could be learnt before. Steadily they advanced, crouching close beneath the grass-heads, hiding behind the numberless hummocks which rose in their front at intervals, behind the tall mysterious palms whose fan-like leaves kept up an unceasing rustle, and waving as the breeze swayed them up and down, and blew them with a startling noise against the tall trunks. Nearer, step by step, they crawled with bated breath, and crowds of anxious thoughts running through their heads, lest the slightest error or alarm might be made by some awkward companion, every now and then lifting their heads up to note the progress they made, or the position of the massive and fierce brutes whom they intended to attack. Kalulu, more experienced than any other, had found his task much lighter than either Simba or Moto, least of all the Arab boys, his lithe, sinewy form had penetrated through the grass with the ease of the young antelope, from which he derived his name, and had found it no difficulty whatever to stalk the buffaloes; so that, long before his companions had gained their several positions, he had ventured as near a buffalo bull as prudence would suggest, and one of his arrows was already resting on the string which his practised hand would surely send home into the animal's flanks on the first sound of the signal. In a few minutes, Simba having kindly waited for his friends, Kalulu heard the whistle, and as he stood up he took a second's survey of the field. Moto was far to the right of Simba, Simba was next to Kalulu, Abdullah was a few yards behind him, on his left, with his gun pointed at the same animal he had chosen. Selim was the furthest on the left, about thirty or forty yards from a young bull buffalo. This was taken in at one glance, and probably Simba and Moto had taken the same precaution. The next second Kalulu's bow twanged. Selim's rifle and the muskets of Simba and Moto were heard together, and there was confusion and momentary dismay among the animals, as they heard the startling reports of the fire-arms. The lord of the little herd, in whose side Kalulu's arrow was buried up to the feathers, had already lowered his head, and was preparing for a charge, when Abdullah's gun rang out sharp and loud, close behind, it seemed to Kalulu, who instinctively bent his head, and the formidable bull reeled under the stroke of the bullet, which was flattened in the centre of his head but only for a moment; for, after uttering a frightful bellow, he lowered his head again, and came down, tearing the earth, towards the active young chief. Pooh! the brute might as well have charged upon smoke, as upon the young Mtuta; for a single bound took him to one side, clear out of danger, and as the buffalo passed by, exposing his flanks, Kalulu drew his bow until it was almost double, and sent a barbed arrow clean through his heart, which rolled him over and over in the agonies of death. Thus Kalulu won the first prize. Simba and Moto had been engaged with the same animal, which two bullets well aimed soon settled for ever. Selim, on the other hand, had broken a leg, just at the shoulder, of the buffalo to which he was opposed, and with his second barrel had sent a shot through the body, which so sickened the young bull, that he could do no more than roar painfully, and vomit blood, sure signs of his fast-approaching doom. Before he could reload his gun, the buffalo staggered, fell on his knees, and rolled over, still and dead. Little Niani had in the meantime been skulking behind a tree, watching with a critical eye the battle, and now as he saw it terminated he advanced from his place of security, and gave a shout of triumph, and made as much noise, as though he, single-handed, had laid the three buffaloes low; but, for the good deed that he had so lately done, nobody cared to dispute his assumption, and all laughed merrily as they saw him dance on the body of Kalulu's bull. Not for long, however, for human stomachs were calling for food, and spear-blade, and knife were therefore set industriously to work to carve out the finest pieces of beef. Simba and Moto each carved out a hind-leg of rosy, juicy beef, at the sight of which the saliva ran out of their mouths like water, and Niani, as he saw the rich chunks which Kalulu, with the aid of Abdullah, extracted from his game, almost drowned himself with swallowing his saliva. When each was loaded down with beef, the party returned to the forest again, straight towards the east, for its gloomiest recesses, where they might remain in security, while they cooked and ate, should any enemies have heard the reports of their guns. In about an hour they reached a secure place, a similar clump of jungle almost to that wherein they had slept so cosily the night before. A fire was soon made with the aid of their muskets, by Simba and Moto, while the boys, under the direction and example of Kalulu, employed themselves in preparing slender rods, pointed, with which they pierced small pieces of beef, to plant around the fire for a speedy broil. In their great hurry to allay their gnawing hunger, too, they threw several thin slices into the hottest part of the fire, which no sooner were warmed than they were extracted again and eaten with a relish and satisfaction which the poor stomachs alone could have properly described had they the same power of speech as they had of digestion. While they were thus eating, a glance at the fire showed a regular palisade of slender sticks, on which numberless pieces of meat were impaled, and Simba and Moto having thus satisfactorily arranged the cooking of the rations, began to make other preparations for the same purpose on a more extensive scale, while Abdullah and Niani were detailed to procure wood, and keep up a regular scorching fire, as the march was to be resumed after noon. The men selected four sticks with prongs, which they planted at each corner and outside the beefy-palisade, and laying two slender poles lengthwise, with their ends resting in the forks of the upright sticks, and over these poles they laid shorter sticks crosswise, and apart from each other, which structure, when completed, had somewhat the appearance of a gridiron. On this platform were laid long strings of meat, and the object of their preparations was soon explained to Selim, who in this knowledge perceived where he had been at fault, when he escaped from Ferodia on the march to Katalambula's village. It was really wonderful how much these heroes of ours managed to eat. The palisade on which the kabobs were roasting, and hissing, and spluttering, was rapidly disappearing before the voracious attacks of the gourmands. Some hand was constantly stretched out to take and uproot the defences round the fire, and fingers were incessantly employed in extracting from the sticks the juicy and luscious pieces, and one mouth or another was continually opened to receive, while the jaws of all were perpetually grinding meat with their lips emitting a chorus of "auch," "auch," "tlap," "tlap." Though there has been an omission to mention that, over the body of each buffalo, before its throat was cut, the blessing of God was invoked, it must not be taken for granted that such pious sons of Islam as Selim and Abdullah were, could have done such a deed without going through the grateful ceremony which the Kuran has enjoined on all true believers. And in the feeling of plenitude which was at last felt, they found their reward. My young readers who have never experienced the pangs of hunger and thirst will have perhaps some difficulty in comprehending the fierceness of appetite and voracity which these children of nature exhibited. About two o'clock in the afternoon, the meat was taken from the platform, "done brown," and was bound into a light bale of provisions for each person, with bark rope, and with a perfectly satisfied feeling, the party sallied out, and continued the journey south. At sunset they encamped near a pool of water, and after surrounding themselves with a stout brush fence, they set to work upon some more meat, with an enjoyment and gusto few can realise outside of those who have gone through similar experiences. Jokes were freely made; Simba uttered his dry, crisp remarks, which set them all laughing. Then, when the supper was over, and Moto had taken out from some extraordinary recess of his loin-cloth a leaf of tobacco, and some lime, and handing a bit to Simba, who received it with joyful gratitude, and placed it in his mouth, with a pleasure which lit his face up. Moto called out to Niani for a story. Little Niani was taken aback by this, and blushed as much as he could blush, for his face seemed to burn, and tingle, as he felt the high honour conferred on him. He answered, he did not know how to tell a story. But Moto having explained to him that he only wished to know what had become of him after he left Katalambula's village, Niani said: "Oh, it is soon told. Tifum the Wicked, after we came to Katalambula's, took me to his own hut, and made me wait on him, fetch water, and light his pipe for him, and when Ferodia left Katalambula's that night, when he was angry because Simba and Kalulu would not let him take Master Selim with him, I was marched off by Tifum. On the road, Tifum beat me several times, and once threatened to cut my head off, if I did not hurry my steps. I was sorry, and I felt as if I did not care much what he would do to me, since I was parted from Master Selim, who was always so good to me. One of the Arab slaves was caught as he was trying to run away, and Ferodia ordered him to be killed. He was thrown on the ground by six men, and while one man drew his head back by the hair, another with a knife that was not sharp, began to cut his head off. The blood of that poor man spouting up in the faces of the cruel men, while his body was shaking, and moving about as he tried to breathe, I shall never forget; and if only for that savage work of Tifum, who stood by laughing, I think Tifum the Wicked has been served right. Nothing else happened on the road, except that every day some poor slave was badly used, and beaten until he died. I think that more than twenty people died on the road. We got at last to Ferodia's village, which is not near so big as Katalambula's was, though he has plenty of cows, and sheep, and goats. Tifum had four wives, all ugly and cruel, and when Tifum told them to make use of me, those bad women treated me worse than he had done; they pulled my hair, pinched my ears and face, slapped me on the back, made me run after water, to tend their goats, and bring them back at night. Indeed, they nearly killed me, while Tifum laughed as if he enjoyed it. I then thought it better to be very good, and do my work quick, which, when Tifum saw, he took me away from them, and made me work for him only; but he was all the time saying he would cut my throat some day, and eat me--and he used to open his mouth so wide! I think I could have jumped down into it, if I tried hard. I heard him say often, too, how sorry he was he did not have one of the white slaves--meaning Master Selim and Master Abdullah--the Pagan dog! for he thought he could have been much more thought of by his people if he had one of them. Then we heard, one day, that Katalambula was dead, and Kalulu was king, which made Ferodia fearfully angry, and say how he would chop up into little bits everybody who helped him; and the next day, after plenty of talk, he took a great number of people with him, and came towards Katalambula's. Tifum took me with him, and made me carry his spears, and bag of rice, and a gourdful of water. I was thinking all the time I would tell Simba and Moto what Ferodia was going to do, if I could only get in; but at the village of the tribe of Meroeni, Tifum left me behind, by orders of Ferodia, and I knew I could not help you. The night it was all to take place I tried again, but I could not; and in the morning we all left for Katalambula's, only to find the warriors of Ferodia masters of the village. You know the rest. I saw you all slaves, and I came very near crying when I saw it; but I stopped it, for fear of Tifum. But all the time I was thinking, and thinking how I could help you all, but I was afraid. Then that night in the forest, after Soltali was burnt, I heard Tifum swear that in the morning he would cut Kalulu's head off, and, whether Ferodia liked it or not, he would then cut off Master Selim's head. I became angry then. Yes, you may laugh; but my heart was black, and once or twice I looked at Tifum's knife hungrily, and I thought how I should like to bury it in his black neck; but no; I waited until after Tifum had eaten his supper, and I heard him groan in pain, and I thought he would never stop; but he did at last, and went asleep. Then I got up, with Tifum's knife in my hand, and came to you, Master Selim. And now you know all that Niani knows." "_Ngema toto, Toto nwema sana_," (Good child, very good child), cried Moto; but Simba stretched out his long, strong arm, and laid hold of Niani and lifted him up, and hugged the little mite--until he was almost hidden by the great, strong arms--close to his mighty breast, and poured into his ear such endearing terms that poor little Niani had never heard before, that made his eyes water after a singular manner, which he could not very well have explained but that he felt a great big lump in his throat, which seemed as if it would choke him. Selim, his son, dear young master, who was so very superior to him, and all whom he had ever seen, his Master Selim, who had such a beautiful mamma at Zanzibar--his Master Selim, whom he had seen dressed in gold and silver raiment, in the beautifullest clothes of blue and red silk, and whitest linen, Niani saw looking at him with eyes full of kindness, and a smile on his face,--for which he would have gone through the hottest fire,--with a look which went straight into him, and kindled within him a feeling akin to idolatry, and heard the sweetest words which were ever uttered in his hearing from him. "Come to me, come near Selim, Niani;" and the little black waif, who hitherto had been neglected and allowed to grow wild unnoticed by a single kind human eye, was clasped by his young master and kissed! "My own mamma shall thank thee, Niani," said Selim, resting his hand, upon his head. "Thou dost remember her, dost thou not, Niani?" "Ah, when shall I forget her, master, or you?" said Niani; while from under the half-closed eyes and bowed head rolled the tears in streams down his cheeks. "Nay, Niani, thou shalt not say `you' to me more; say `thou,' because thou art no longer my slave--thou shalt be more; thou shalt be my friend. Selim has no slaves around this fire. Neither Simba nor Moto are my slaves; they are my friends, and now thou art also one." "Yes, but Master Selim, Simba and Moto are big, and I am little and bad, and some day, perhaps, I shall do something wrong, and you will be no longer my friend." "And when that day comes," responded Selim, "I shall remember a little boy who crept through a camp of wicked people in the dead of night, while all others were afraid of Soltali's ghost, and came and delivered his master Selim from the sharp knife of Tifum, and the memory of that deed shall be sure to make me say, `Forgive Niani, for the sake of that he did to thee. Forgive him for the life he gave back to thee.'" "Niani will always try to be good, because he loves his Master Selim," the little fellow said. "So be it," answered his master. "And I," said Abdullah, "want to be Niani's friend; and he must say `thou' to me, and when we reach Zanzibar, Niani will find how grateful an Arab boy can be." Simba said: "Niani must look upon me as his father from this evening, because he has neither father nor mother of his own. Master Selim, Abdullah, and Moto are his friends; and when Niani is big like me, Master Selim will give him a wife and garden, and a home, and he will grow up with plenty of little Nianis around him." This set them all laughing, and the idea of little Niani having plenty of other little Nianis, lasted as a good joke until it was time to sleep. The fire was allowed to die out; but through the gloom of night in the dark forest, with the broad, shadowy boughs swaying softly over the sleepers, the everlasting stars, the southern cross, glittering Orion, and bright, shining Canopus, searched them out, but they never looked down from their exalted heights on a camp in Central Africa, where were purer fellowship, or greater human kindness than that which those sleeping forms contain within them towards one another. The march of our party was continued the next day and for six days more toward the south without having once emerged from the forest. They saw plenty of game, and almost every day bagged something for the larder; but they always kept a surplus of dried meat by as a provision for exigencies. On the seventh day after the scenes just detailed above, Kalulu thought they might now turn west, and after going in that direction for three days, might slowly point their faces toward the north-west, or alter their direction towards Lake Liemba, as circumstances permitted. [See note at end of this chapter.] The genial shade and tranquillity of the primeval forest was soon exchanged after they turned their faces west for the intolerable heat and vexation of a low, thorny jungle. Their nostrils became offended with the fetid rank exhalations of the cactaceous and aloetic plants, and black gummy bushes, armed with many a horrid thorn, which struggled with each other for place and air with the wanton luxuriance and spontaneous growth which belongs to tropical plants. These loaded the air with a pungent, acrimonious odour, which set them all coughing, and when they impatiently rubbed the tormented organs of respiration, they but added to their discomfort, for their hands had unconsciously rubbed against some leaves as they passed through, and communicated a burning sensation to their noses and lips like that which cayenne pepper provokes. Long creepers, armed upon all sides with ridges of thorn, evoked many an impatient word, as at an unlucky moment they stumbled against these, and were held fast to the great and severe wounding of the epidermis, and pendulous arms, overhanging the road which they traversed, caught them fast often with their crooked and sharp thorns by the skin of the throat, causing severe and painful wounds. These pains and penalties, which the jungles of that region impose upon the unlucky travellers who are compelled to travel through them, were but a few of the inconveniences and discomforts which our friends suffered. The whole ground seemed strewn with the opened kernel of a seed thorn, which is armed outside with as many straight, sharp thorns as there are quills in a porcupine's back. Fancy men with naked feet walking over a ground strewn with miniature porcupines, and you will agree with me that the pain and torment would be as great almost as walking over hot embers. At least such were the opinions of our friends, as they were compelled, while their faces were wrinkled with pain, to stop every other minute to extract the vile thorn kernels which had wounded their feet. Apart from these miseries of the jungle were those which the heated and cracked earth furnished. The red, drouthy ground was full of wide and unsightly seams, rugged rents, which gaped open to receive the incautious foot, and many a stumble and cry was elicited from the unwary Arab boys, who, instead of watching against these mischances, permitted their eyes to rove over the inhospitable scene. And over all these shone the sun with a true tropic fervour, where, untempered by the slightest breeze, with no friendly tree intervening with its thick foliage between their heads and the full power of the sun, their nude bodies seemed destined to be baked while they yet had the power of locomotion. These several things, the heat of the sun, the hot vapour from the earth surging upward like steam, the prickly bush and the frequent stumblings, engendered a violent thirst which they all began to feel, while the perspiration streaming from their bodies added more and more to its intensity. Ah! they may well think with regret of the grateful shade which the luxuriant forest afforded; they may well say that they wished that the forest had lasted for ever, for it furnished many a pool of clear water, the freshness of which the pale yellow lotus flowers, languidly resting on its surface, seemed to enhance. They may well think of the joyous chorus which the gorgeously-feathered birds gave out incessantly from morn until evening; they may well think with regret of all the pleasures which the primeval woods furnished, which they have now exchanged for the steamy plain and acrid jungle. But the road to home and comfort lies through many a jungle yet, and these inconveniences ye have to suffer, my friends, if ye ever think to embrace the friends who await ye at Zanzibar! At sunset they came to a shallow pool, whose consistence was that of liquid mud of a chalky colour. The vicinity showed that it was a frequent resort for such animals as were benighted in the inhospitable plain on their way to more northern pasture-grounds, and that its colour and unsavoury taste had been caused by the thirsty beasts plunging into its middle in their hurry to assuage the thirst which consumed their vitals. But little recked our thirsty heroes for the colour or the unsavoury taste of the water so long as it relieved in the slightest degree the pangs which tormented them. Continuing their journey towards the west the next day, one of the annoyances which troubled them the day before abated. The jungle had disappeared, and in its place stretched a treeless plain before them, which was covered with tall and bleached grass of the last summer's growth. This plain, when they had travelled many hours towards its centre, and took a survey around, they found to be an oval depression, as the jungle which they had left in the morning appeared to be on much higher ground than that on which they now stood, and Kalulu expressed his opinion that they had begun to descend towards the lake-land of southern Liemba, in which opinion Simba and Moto concurred. As they advanced still further to the west, the country began to heave upward on the horizon, though they seemed to descend into a yet lower level. Presently walking became a task of difficulty. The firm close ground over which they had travelled, and the dense pasture-grass changed into a tall sedge which formed tussocks, separated and isolated from each other, which they had to span with long strides, and which shook beneath their weight, as they sprang from one tussock to another. After two hours of this fatiguing work they came to a black spongy ooze, which appeared firm enough on the surface, but as soon as it felt their weight it admitted them up to their waists into the depths of the putrid composition of wet grass and sedgy mould, over the surface of which trickled many a miniature stream of oily slime. The sword leaves of the pubescent reed and sedge slashed and cut their bodies as though razors had been lightly drawn across them, and the blood streamed down their chests and limbs. They presented a miserable spectacle as they finally emerged from the swampy fen, and felt the firm ground under their feet once more, for they were spattered all over with clots of black mud, which, under the sun's heat, were rapidly baked, and formed a filthy grey encrustation. But heedless of all this they urged their steps until they had reached the ridgy horizon, which, ever since morning, had loomed greyishly blue before them. As it was night when they had reached this elevation, they rested here, completely worn out with the dire march of the day, and so great was their fatigue that they did not pay much heed to the thirst they otherwise would have suffered from. Long before day on the third morning they were on the way again, looking with dismay at the extensive plain which waved and heaved before them like a sea, and throughout all its prospect promised no amelioration of the fatigue and pain they had endured the day before. Away, as far as the vision could command, the land rose in successive ridges, of a whitish hue, which they knew to be the result of the dry and parched grass which clothed them. It was through such an inhospitable country the march of the third day westward took them. On the fourth morning Kalulu chose a broad ridge which ran north-westerly, and led the way along its spine, whence they obtained views of all around. Now and then the travellers dipped into hollows, but regained rising ground as oft as they could, and towards night they were gratified by observing dark mountainous masses in the distance, which they were told would be reached in about twelve hours' march the next day. The night of the fifth day verified the prediction of Kalulu, for they found themselves at the base of a conical hill, near a stream of pure water, close by a bamboo jungle, whose vivid green leaves afforded a grateful contrast to the bleached grass, through which daily grew into greater importance the noisy but clear rivulet, which brawled over pebbles and gravel bottom to the impetuous stream thundering down rocky slopes, past granite and basaltic pinnacles, in foamy sheets and curved round bends, with moan and wail, until it gained the level lea, where it flowed tranquilly on towards its eternity. They plunged through leafy woods, where the sycamore was in its glory and towered aloft in an enormous globe, acknowledged king of trees; through bamboo jungles, through park-lands of unusual beauty, by conical hills, and along the base of ridges of grey rock, defiling through deep ravines, until they finally came to a verdant champaign dotted here and there with noble trees, where the swards were as soft as velvet. And all these days they had been descending slowly but surely towards the lake they were in search of, and the vigorous young grass which now gladdened their eyes informed them that they were not far from it. They formed their camp, warmed their last morsel of dried meat, and comforted each other, that in such a land they need not be long looking for game. About midnight they were roused from their slumbers by the roar of a lion, apparently very near them, and Moto said, as soon as he could collect his faculties: "What did I tell ye? I knew such a country as this must be full of game, and the roar of that beast confirms it, for a lion is never found except where there is food for him, but, Selim, thou must be ready with thy rifle, for if the fellow is very hungry he will try to take one of us." "I see him," whispered Kalulu. "There! look at him; do ye not see that dark form slowly moving past that big tree now? There! he stops and looks towards us!" "Hush!" whispered Simba, "he is coming. Be ready and sure with thy gun, young master!" "Shall I fire now?" asked Selim in a low tone. "No, no, no," replied Moto. "Wait until I give the word. Pooh, young master, thou must drive thy hall through and through his head. It will never do to wound him." The sound of the pulsations in their bodies might almost have been heard, as still as the tree stem under whose leafage they were crouching, they waited the ferocious and powerful thief and prowler who ranges at will, seeking whom he may devour, throughout the long night in the game lands of Africa. Fortunate was it for some of them that he signalled his presence in the forest with that first loud roar, for had he but crept to them, unwarning, as he was now doing, what a terrible confusion he had thrown the panic-stricken people into! Not a sound was heard as he neared them. It was only by the approaching bulk and dark loom of him they knew he was advancing; but presently he again stopped, and they heard the soft brushing of the grass, probably made with his tail, as he twirled and tossed it about wantonly, and through the gloom they saw two specks of luminous light, shine like miniature lanterns, by which Selim was able to take aim. The hand of Moto lightly resting on the Arab boy's shoulders, warned him and restrained him from firing. For a moment the lion stood surveying the creatures he knew to be crouched under the tree. He then was seen to move to the left, as if he were about to make a circuit round them, but at every step he took Selim turned his gun, resting on his knee, at him, completely covering him. Suddenly he halted and confronted them, and a loud appalling roar broke on their startled ears, terrible enough in its volume and sound to unnerve the stoutest, and which caused little Niani and Abdullah to shrink behind Simba and Moto, who in the meantime had prepared their guns lest Selim's nerve might fail him at the critical and trying moment. The form of the lion, now fearfully plain, came to the earth with an almost imperceptible downward movement, and each second as it passed, while he waited for the command, was freighted with keenest anxiety to Selim. Kalulu warned Moto that the beast was preparing for a spring. Then Moto bade all be ready, and the word "Piga" (fire) was heard, sharp and peremptory, and the three guns simultaneously belched flame and fire, lit up the form of the then uprising lion, and a savage cry and dull heavy thud upon the earth announced to these anxious souls that the lion's spring was cut short, and that he was either dying or was dead. They hastily raked the hot embers together, and throwing straw on it, soon blew it into a bright blaze which threw a light over the late scene of terror, and showed the lion's form stretched on its right side, with its left fore-paw, vainly beating the air, and the opened jaws, the gleaming white teeth, and protruding tongue, and the head almost split asunder, where two bullets had entered home to the brain, and robbed him of the cruel life which only endured to rend and devour prey. "Ah ha, lion! thou greedy beast," cried Niani, hopping about as light as a young springbok. "Thou didst think to eat Niani, thou cruel one. Father Simba, rightly called `lion,' and Master Selim, and friend Moto have given thee as good as thou didst intend to have given me. He will roar no more, will he, chief?" he suddenly asked Kalulu. "No, little one," responded that more decorous and dignified youth; "he will haunt the forest no more, nor startle the antelopes with his roar during the gloom of night. Thou mayst sleep in peace now, Niani." "Ay," added Selim, "and dream of the sweet and sugared hulwa (sweetmeats) and dates of Muscat, and of the pretty jackets with silver lace on them, he is going to get from me at Zanzibar." "Yes, and the red fez with the gold tassel which his friend Abdullah will give him," said that Arab youth. "And he must not forget the little wife and lots of Nianis he is going to get by-and-by," added Simba, as he walked forward closer to the dead Simba, after whom he was named. "He will do there until morning," said Moto. "Let us continue our sleep, or do ye all go to sleep while I watch, because this carrion may bring others in search of him," which good advice was soon adopted, and after some little time had passed all, except Moto, had resumed their slumber. As the horizon was greying in the east Moto awoke his companions, who set at once to work to make a fire to warm themselves after the chilly night-dew. Kalulu cut off the claws of the lion, which he gave to Simba, Moto, and Selim, while the fourth paw's claws he offered to Abdullah, and when refused by him he reserved for himself. Simba also stripped the splendid furry mane from the lion's neck and cut it into six equal strips, which he divided amongst his companions, and then suggested that the journey be continued, and that each should keep a bright look-out for game. Within an hour Simba saw a kudu, and leaving his companions alone, he proceeded after it, and in a few moments the crack of his gun was heard, and his friends, with infinite satisfaction, said that his shot was effective, and, running up to him, were just in time to hear him utter his "Bismillah" (in the name of God), and to see him draw his knife to sever the throat of the fine animal. Moto, while the juicy steaks were broiling over red coals, and the jaws of his companions were already hard at work, proposed that after the long march they should rest that day and strengthen themselves with meat; but Simba and Kalulu were for prosecuting the journey until they should get a sight of the Lake Liemba, and after hearing Kalulu's reasons Selim concurred in the proposition, though Abdullah and Niani sided with Moto, pleading their fatigue. They rested until noon, however, and by this time Niani and Abdullah felt so strengthened with the meat they had eaten and digested, that they declared themselves strong enough to march a month longer, which statement was received with pleasure by all. The same champaign spread out on either side of them as they continued their journey, as beautiful as when it first was revealed to them, and in the far distance they saw herds upon herds of buffalo, giraffe, and antelope feasting on the rich grass. Here and there, to vary the monotony, rose a clump of mimosa, or a tall tamarind, or a silk-cotton tree, or a group of stately palmyra, adding grace and beauty to the picture, and now and then they passed a low thicket of brush and thorn. Above, over their heads, soared the kite and the bustard, the vulture and the hawk, searching with keen eyes for prey, while the smaller birds made the groves and the thickets and the lordly trees merry with their chirping song. There was such repose and tranquillity, and a feeling of perfect security in the scene, that the Arab boys wished it would last until it was replaced by the happier scenes of Zanzibar. Poor youths! well they might wish it, after the disagreeabilities of travel they had encountered in all shapes during their short stay in Africa. But to make even this pleasant view one of horror, to transform its peaceful aspect into one ominous and fatal to them, it needed but fifty warriors of Ferodia to make their appearance before them, and how quickly were it all changed, and to make even the jungle and treeless plain a paradise compared to it! Kalulu ventured a remark that evening, as they were comfortably collected around the camp-fire, that he did not think such a beautiful and rich country could be without inhabitants somewhere in the neighbourhood. At least, said he, he had always found it so, and he thought that on the morrow, or the next day, they must see signs of cultivation and population, as they must be rapidly nearing the lake. The next morning, after they had journeyed a few hours, Simba, who was in advance, cried out that he saw a cornfield, which sent a momentary feeling of terror into the minds of his younger companions; but, habituating themselves to the sight of it, they became reassured, as they remembered that Ferodia must be far away, and that possibly the people had never heard of a man who had made himself a bugbear to them by his ferocious disposition and cruel character. In an hour or so, after skirting the cornfield, they came to a river, brown and deep, and about twenty yards wide, flowing towards the north, and while they were hugging the thick tall spear-grass which grew along the bank, Niani uttered a low cry, and pointed with his finger towards something that was hidden near the bank. Kalulu retraced his steps quickly to observe what had escaped his eyes, and he saw a canoe with four paddles in it! He was not long in imparting the tidings, and the party drew together for a whispered consultation; but Moto advised strongly that they should not expose themselves, but that they should retreat at once into the first thicket, a piece of prudent counsel which was acted upon as soon as intimated. They found, about two hundred yards away from the object of their surprise and concern, a suitable place in a dense bush, wherein they crouched down, after they had posted Niani to observe narrowly from the entrance for any suspicious object, for a discussion about their future movements. "Who do you think these people are, Kalulu?" asked Simba. The young chief answered that he thought the tribe was that of the Wa-liemba, and that the canoe belonged to a party of hunters from the village, who were out looking for game. Moto then suggested that they should wait until near midnight and get into the canoe and float down the river. Simba and Kalulu concurred, and thought it would be a good thing, and an easy way of reaching the lake; but Selim and Abdullah strongly demurred to the proposition, as the act would be one of hostility against a tribe that so far had done nothing to them, besides being dishonest. Simba and Moto, however, aided by Kalulu, brought such powerful arguments to bear against the two Arab boys that they were silenced. They were, said they, escaping from a land where every man's hand was raised against them; where a small party like their own only invited attack from those who felt themselves strongest, against whom, however skilful they managed their movements, they could not expect to be always able to cope successfully. Prudence and safety suggested to them this means to avoid trouble and recapture, and if they did not avail themselves of this happy opportunity, they might, perhaps, in a few hours, be cursing their squeamishness and irresolution, while lamenting their fate in bonds more cruel than any they had undergone while in Ferodia's power. Before such considerations Selim and Abdullah submitted to the superior judgment and craft of Moto and Simba, and said no more, though to each other they regretted that such a step had to be taken. Night came, without anything alarming having occurred, and Niani was called from his watch, and whatever they said among themselves until the hour of departure was said so low that no one could have heard their voices even had some straggler by accident been outside the bush. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Notes. The real direction in which our people journeyed may be found by any reader curious enough to wish to know if he will examine the map of Central Africa as published in the book `How I Found Livingstone,' when the reader will be able to locate easily the scenes laid here. He will find that the countries are laid down with a fidelity which generally belongs to standard geographical works, that no liberties are taken with the habits, the customs, or the true ethnology of the great country of Ututa, or with the geography of Central Africa, neither with the probabilities of a life in that far region. The chain of circumstances, as here portrayed, alone belong to the romantic and the fictitious, and this fact the author would fain impress upon the minds of his readers. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. DOWN THE RIVER--THE LAKE AT LAST--SELIM DESCRIBES THE LAKE'S BEAUTIES-- KALULU ANSWERS SELIM--KALULU DOES NOT BELIEVE IN SELIM'S SKY-SPIRIT.-- THE JOURNEY ON THE LAKE--SELIM SHOOTS A ZEBRA--SELIM'S FURIOUS RIDE ON A ZEBRA--SELIM SAFE--THE TEMPEST ON THE LAKE--SLAVES AGAIN. The time to make a bold stroke towards regaining a country where they might meet friends came about three hours after darkness had fallen upon the earth. No sound had been heard to cause alarm: the bullfrogs growled inharmoniously among the wild spear-grass; the bull-crocodile woke the echoes with his hoarse roar; the black ibis had long ago hushed its harsh screams. It was surely time to be astir, for at this time of night peaceful Africans or weak parties seldom venture out of their villages. They soon found the canoe, and without exchanging a word the men and boys cautiously got in, and Simba and Moto, each taking a paddle, drove the boat out until it reached the flood, and silently dipping their paddles in the water they guided their boat to the opposite side, and under the lee of the tall grass and mangrove trees impelled her along noiselessly. They came abreast of the village, and they rested on their paddles; they passed it, and the work was resumed with caution. Once beyond the fields, Kalulu and Selim each took a paddle, and the increased muscle soon sent her swiftly gliding down. They were now passing through an uncultivated tract, and Simba exerted his giant strength, and Moto his sinew and muscle to the work, and the rapid progress they were making was seen by the swift flight of trees and branches and tall cane by them. The stars, in bright galaxies and shiny myriads, lit their course, the river flow aided them, and the rapid rate at which they went exhilarated them. They were probably going down the river at the rate of five miles an hour, thus paddling with the current; nine hours of such work would put them out of reach of danger by morning, even should they be pursued; and provided they paddled on unseen by the natives no trace would be left behind by them. This was a happy and expeditious way of travelling towards home, thought our people. The longest day's march was nothing compared to the number of miles that may be travelled down stream, for even should they rest awhile the friendly current still conveyed them down towards their destination. So, blessing your stars, and your fortune, glide on my heroes, glide down until morning! The day dawned and revealed their surroundings, prominent hills, all crowned with tall trees, with slopes descending rapidly to the river's edge, a straight course before them; the current swifter; sometimes racing past the rocks with the speed of a rapid, and not a sign of cultivation about them anywhere. Cheered by the auspicious outlook they bent to their paddles with will and vigour. Beyond the hill-country the river broadened and became sluggish in its flow; tall matete cane towered above them to the height of bamboo. This also was cheering, for except fishermen no tribe cares to live in such a sickly neighbourhood. After resting a short time and recruiting their strength with a breakfast of dried meat, they continued their course. Low, sandy islands rose in mid-stream, covered with reeds, on which lay, basking in the morning sun, several crocodiles, who rushed to their liquid homes at hearing the sound of the paddles, and on seeing the intruding canoe. On our friends rowed, past mangroves and groups of _Eschinomense_, which flung their random roots out in all directions; past sandy isles and patches of sandbars; through narrow channels, along which they raced, whither they knew not, whither they cared not, so they took them to the inland sea they were in search of. At noon our party halted in the depths of a mangrove swamp, and went to sleep in the bottom of the canoe. In the dark night they woke thoroughly refreshed, and tasked their powers of digestion with some more beef, and then paddled out to the stream once more. Another night was passed under the beamy stars and dark-blue sky, while mild breezes bathed their hot brows, and tall cane gently nodded their heads as a token of farewell, and the leaves sighed their regrets at the evanishing canoe. The water broke in wavelets against her side, and formed a foamy wake behind. The bull-crocodile sonorously roared, and the bull hippo, at his banquet of tiger grass, uttered his deep base bellow, which strange noises the startled night caught up and pealed across the swampy fens and morasses, rousing the indignant and protesting frogs. Still silent sat the rowers, uttering no words, speechless as shadows; while the canoe cleft the murky-faced river, glided swiftly under the nodding reeds and sombrous mangrove, and halted not for frog or crocodile. And morning came; and as the rising sun began to drive the mist of night away--lo! the lake at last! Liemba's lake! And the hitherto speechless rowers burst into a triumphant shout and an enraptured "Ah!" as they thought the goal was won. Let each reader fancy to himself the expanding view of the silver grey waters of the lake; its miniature waves lifting their snowy crests as they felt the force of the gentle gale; the sun reflected a thousand times as, rising above the eastern horizon, it slanted over the heads of the joyous rowers and mirrored itself in the tiny waves and troughs. On the left, the lake-shore studded with many a hummock cone and blue hill, and between each the shadowy forest glades; and along the margin of the shore a strip of white sand, laved by whiter foam. And now the canoe is quite out of the river current, and points up the lake, with glorious scenery awaiting it on the right, brown rock mountains receding from the water's edge to lofty altitudes, while their slopes contiguous are enriched with tier upon tier of luxuriant and green mimosa, and tamarind of darker green. This was the prospect which greeted them after their venturesome flight with a canoe belonging to other people, after rowing over one hundred miles in twenty-five hours, down the river. But they were not safe yet; their pursuers might be behind them, and it behoved them to row far and long before they could be said to be quite out of danger. Selim and Kalulu were relieved by Abdullah and Niani, Simba and Moto were tireless. They followed the right shore of the lake for over eight hours; but at the end of that time they drew in shore under the lee of an island situated in the middle of a snug picturesque bay, and hiding their boat deep among the reeds, disembarked at last on the island to shake each other by the hand, to enjoy in full the happy thoughts and the serenity of mind which the knowledge of their secured freedom had created within them. "Ah, Kalulu, we are safe!" cried Selim in a transport of joy, as he drew the young chief to his side and sat down to rest with him. "Yes, my brother, we are safe for the present; but Zanzibar is yet far, is it not?" "Yes, about five months; but I think, after we reach Usowa we need fear nothing more. Moto tells me the people are kind to the Arabs. But say, is not this beautiful?" asked Selim. "Yes; but let us go to the top of the island, whence we can see all around," said Kalulu; "and we can sleep in safety, and have the breeze to cool us much better than below here." In a few minutes they had gained the highest point of the island, and sitting under the shade of a far-spreading mimosa, Selim, having taken at a glance the unusual beauties of the scene, proceeded to point them out to his companion one after another, saying: "Follow me, Kalulu, and let me point out to thee what I consider pretty. Look at the water of Liemba, so beautiful, so clear, so deep; and, does it not shame the sky with its blueness where it is deep? And look at the shores dotted with the little hills! They stand apart from each other, as if each was the abode of some spirit. They also image themselves in the deep water, as if they wished to see, as our vain women do, how pretty they look. Are they not pretty? Seest thou not how each hill is like a Kituta hut; but, unlike the straw with which the Watuta thatch their houses, the great Sky-spirit has thatched these with beautiful trees, and sent the lake winds to make music among the leaves and branches. And look between the hills, Kalulu; follow the winding valleys with thine eyes, until they rest where the valleys are lost in those grey mountain folds. If thou wert close to any of those valleys, thou wouldst hear the brooks sing and laugh as they race over rock and pebble towards the deep Liemba." After a little while he continued, more seriously: "The music of the trees and the music of the brooks mingling together speak to us children of the Arabs of the goodness of the Sky-spirit. If thine hearing was fine enough, and we two were under those trees of the valley yonder, thou wouldst be able to hear the voice of my mind and heart sing in sympathy with the brook and the trees; and just as my heart sings out of sympathy with their voices, so do the birds sing. Hast thou never thought how pretty and sweet sound the songs of birds, Kalulu? I have often, when in the mangoe grove near my father's house, seated on a carpet of young and tender grass, watched a little bird coming with a graceful, easy flight, and listened to it singing as it flew. I have watched it turning its little head about so cunningly to see if I was there, and I have seen it looking for a comfortable twig to rest upon, and when it was satisfied I have heard it utter a wondrous melody, and this it seemed to do by simply opening its mouth and erecting its head, and I could not imitate it, try how I might. But though my voice failed, my heart joined with it in song; and if all the little singing birds sang together, my heart could sing as free, as clear as they. "Hark, Kalulu! dost thou not hear the deep lake sing? No! I hear it, and understand its song. Look at the minute waves the zephyr rolls on the beach. Listen to the sound of them as they gather themselves up like long bales of white cloth, and rush to lave the sand. That is music to me, and while it sings I think of the deeper, sweeter music which the sea of Zanj makes at eve of day, which it made while my father and his kinsman sat near the foamy waves to watch the sun falling towards the sunset land. Wouldst thou believe it, dear Kalulu, the voices of those tiny waves sounding in my ear like the sighs of departing friends make me better and purer, more like a child of great Allah, the pure Sky-spirit, who made both thee and I, and all mankind. They make me better, because the gentle thought of love to all men fills my mind; they make me purer, because they draw me nearer to God. I have at this moment no hateful, unkind feeling towards any man. To even Ferodia I bear no ill-will. I forget--I have a wish to forget--what misery he caused me and mine. For what am I in the presence of Allah, whom I see in yon great mountains of grey rock, in yon boundless forests, in those far-reaching valleys, in those tall hills, in those wavelets, in the deep, deep water below us, and that immense roof of cloud and vapour--so vast, so far above us, above which the golden throne of Allah rests." Kalulu had all this time been listening with wonder to Selim, whom he regarded as talking magic; for the truth was, that Selim's feelings were so wrought upon by the beauty of the scene and the gratitude he felt for his escape from the tribe whose canoe his companions had taken that his face had assumed a beatified look, which the more practical Kalulu could not comprehend, unless he supposed he was talking magic. Magic powers and gifts Kalulu could understand and appreciate. When he recovered his speech Kalulu said: "Selim, my brother, thy voice kindles in me a wish that I were born an Arab's son. Yet for all I have listened to thee, I fail to see the beauty thou sayest thou dost see. I fail also to hear the song or music of the Sky-spirit, or of the brook, or of the trees, or of the waves. But I am not one of the Arabs. I am of Urori, and now a Mtuta and a king. I am the son of Mostana, the Kirori king, whom Kisesa the Arab slew. I have lived in the sunshine of Urori and Ututa. I have seen the forests of both countries, and have roamed over their plains. I have chased the antelope and the buffalo, hunted the quagga and the giraffe. I have searched for honey in the woods, and followed the honey-bird wheresoever he led me. I have trapped wild birds and guinea-fowl in the jungle. I have been in valleys, and bathed in the streams that ran through them. I have climbed steep rocks and high mountains, camped on the hills many and many a night; but I never heard music in any of these things. "Music!" continued Kalulu. "What tribe loves music better than the Warori and the Watuta. Our mothers, seated under the shade of plantain or tamarind, sing us to sleep while we suck. They sing of corn-fields, of labour, of gliding down rivers, of war, of great kings long since dead, and of festal days. But they never sing of birds, or of the music of the water. We never hear such music as thou dost hear. Before we have barely learned to walk, our little feet keep step to the sounding `goma' (drum) of the village, and our hands begin a-clapping with the chorus. When we are great boys we drum and sing all day under the shade, and at night during the large moon we often continue the dance and song until the morning. Our women, while they hoe in the field, sing; and while they gather the sticks for the evening fire, or pound the grain into flower, and while they cook for their lords, they sing. The warriors sing always before they go out on the hunt, before the battle, at the marriage, at a death, and at a burial, they sing. They are ever singing, and so am I when I may. I love to sing. But none of our warriors ever said that waters sing, or that trees, or leaves, or branches sing. Thou mightst as well have told me that the cattle, when they low, sing; or that kids when they bleat, or that the hyaena when he growls, or that the jackal when he hungrily yelps, or that the lion when he roars. Dost thou call the roar of the mamba, or the bellow of the hippopotamus, or the screaming cry of the quagga, or the shrill neigh of the zebra, singing? Hast thou heard the furious bellow of the buffalo, or the rageful trumpet of the elephant when he charges, or the grunt of the wart-hog, or the warning snort of the eland, or the noise of the rhinoceros when he plunges at his foe? Would the children of the Arabs say any of these sang? If thou sayest that birds when they chirp, the wind when it moans, the leaves when they rustle, or the waters when they splash and roll over the beach, do sing, then why not say that the noises of the animals are their songs?" After a short breathing spell Kalulu continued: "Ah! Selim, my brother, thy Sky-spirit and mine are not the same. Thine teaches thee nothing but lies. Lo! he is afraid to show himself, or perhaps, like the Watuta warriors, he loves to bask in the sun on his throne of gold; perhaps he loves his `pombe' (beer) like our chiefs. If, as thou sayest, he lives above the clouds, it must be very hot above there, and great heat makes people lazy. Why does he not come down and show himself? Our Sky-spirit comes often to visit us. He is one day like a bird, with white wings; the next he is like a big raven. One day he is a roaring lion, another day he is like a leopard. The Mganga calls unto him with his medicine and gourd, and he either makes us strong in war, or gives us abundance of cloth, beads, and elephant teeth. He kills us, if he is angry, with a bad disease; sends strong tribes, and stirs their hearts against us, while he makes our hearts faint and our arms weak; but he never lies. When a good magic doctor asks him he always answers, and his words come to pass." After another pause, Kalulu continued once more. "Thou sayest that thy Sky-spirit made thee and me, and all men. Perhaps he did make thee and the Arabs, for thou and they are white; but he did not make the Warori or the Watuta. We are black, born of black mothers, and sired by black fathers. Hast thou seen the kidling by the side of its dam? or the young fawn frisking by the side of its mother? Even as the kidling and the young fawn came to this world, came the children of the Watuta and Warori. Thou didst tell me once that the good Arabs go when they die to a beautiful place called Paradise. Perhaps they do, for they are white, and have been favoured by thy Sky-spirit. But good or bad, Warori and Watuta, when they die, go to the ground, into the deep grave, and there are no more words from them, because they have no breath; they are ended. That is what the magic doctors, and those who know, have told me, and there is no untruth in what I say." "Oh! Kalulu, my brother, thou art now like those who cannot see, because there is no light in their eyes, or like those who do not hear, because their ears are stopped. There is no doubt that God, the Sky-spirit, made the sky like a curtain round about us, and that He made the earth like a bed spread out for us to live in, and, though thou art black, He made thee as well as He made me--He made the birds, the trees, the rocks, the valleys, and the hills; He hath caused the rain to fall in its proper season, and all the fruits and corn of the earth to grow for us, each in its own good time. There is no lie in all this, it is truth as clear as yon mountains. Thou art now like a child in the knowledge of these things, but when thou wilt reach Zanzibar, and shall have learnt our language, thou wilt know the truth of what I speak. Thy mind is now like the troubled clouds of the morning, which are yet dark and gloomy, but through them all comes the sun, and the black clouds vanish before his bright glory; so will the darkness which now covers thy mind, and hides the light, for when thou canst talk, and understand what I say, the truth will shine through it all, and the darkness will be no more. Enough for the present; let us rest and sleep, that we may be ready for our journey to-night," and Selim lay down, and Kalulu, after trying in vain to penetrate the meaning of all his brother's words, and to see the promised light before the fulfilment of time, finally lay down, and forgot all about the wonderful Sky-spirit in a deep slumber. They were wakened by Simba's voice, who stood like a colossal shadow-being of the spirit-land above them, for so his figure appeared to their half-dreamy senses. But a vigorous shake of both by his heavy hand soon dispelled the half-formed dreams, and informed them that it was night, and that their friend Simba was urging them to be up and away. Lightly they descended the hill and stepped into their dear little canoe, and presently the isle of Mimosas, on which they had rested, was but a dim configuration of a low hill, and, receding still further, it became lost in the general gloom of night. The canoe was far enough from shore not to be delayed by any fishing-boats; the deep water was all about them, and the lofty, far-upheaving, beaming heaven above them, with its countless myriads of ever-blinking lights, lighting them, poor wanderers, on their way. Kalulu, to wile away the time and to cheer his companions, struck up, in a low voice, the boat song of the Liemba, with the chorus "We are gliding, Swiftly gliding." And, in the quicker, throb-like impulsion of the canoe which followed, Kalulu knew that the song and music had the desired effect on the crew. Morning came again, and keen eyes searched the shore for habitations, but, assured that there were none, the crew advanced perceptibly nearer; and Simba, perceiving an opening between two low hills, advised that they should row for it, and try their hands on game, as provisions had run very low. A happier place could not have been chosen, for all around was clear of cane and rank grass, which generally bordered the lake-shore near the river mouths; and instead of this swampy vegetation rose a thin forest, in which there were numbers of fruit-trees, ripe black singwe--an oval fruit of the size of a plum, but which has a more piquant flavour than our plume--and yellow mbembu--a stone fruit, in shape like a small peach; but though I call it the forest peach from this likeness, its flesh breaks off like a pear's, even when ripest, but its taste is a mixture of the peach and the pear--to which our party rushed, like the half-starved creatures they were. Having refreshed themselves with handfuls of the delicious fruit, Kalulu proposed that he and Selim should venture out in one direction, while Moto and Abdullah should go in another, to look for game; meantime Simba and Niani to look after the canoe. The proposition was agreeable to all. Kalulu and Selim chose a north-east direction, Moto and Abdullah selected a south-east route. The first couple, with whom we have most to deal, struck out boldly, Kalulu armed with his spear, and bow, and arrows, Selim with his English "Joe Manton," which had often before distinguished itself on many a hunting-field. Thickets were passed by, as well as the thin forest, without meeting with a single head of game; but suddenly the thin forest gave way to a bit of park-land, that is, an open country sprinkled with a few noble trees here and there, with its face slightly rolling, thus forming an agreeable prospect compared to what a flat ground would have furnished. In the distance, say at a hundred yards off from the thin forest they were about leaving, the two boys saw a herd of noble zebra engaged in play, in nibbling each other's necks, or, with ears drawn back, were playfully kicking at each other. Selim flung his rifle-barrel into the hollow of his left hand, and aimed at a perfectly regal animal, kingly in his pride and beauty, regal in shape and size, who, foremost of the herd, had seen the intruders, and who, with an erect head and noble mien, was engaged in surveying them. Crack went the rifle, and the magnificent beast rolled on his side, while the herd, uttering their alarm and sorrow in shrill neighs, scampered off to a safer distance to scrutinise the intruders, who with merry laugh and light bounds hastened to secure their game. The wounded zebra lay still, and Selim, thinking it dead, could not help laying down his rifle, quite forgetful of the Moslem's duty of severing its throat and letting out the blood, to survey the beautiful beast. It was so beautiful he could not help going to it, and striding the back, taking hold of the mane, and saying to Kalulu: "Ah, what a fine horse he would make! how I wish that such an animal as this would carry me to Zanzibar," and as he said this, while Selim was on his back imitating the movements of a rider, the zebra rose to his feet so quick that the boy had no time to throw himself off, and bounded after the herd with the swiftness of lightning. Kalulu uttered a cry of horror; but, recovering quickly, he drew his bow and sent an arrow deep into the flanks of the fleeing animal. This wound but spurred the furious and frightened beast, with his strange rider, to quicker speed. Kalulu heard the glad neighing of the zebra herd as they greeted the approach of their lord; he saw them surround him, then looking suspiciously at the rider; saw them, while furiously galloping over the park-land, run at the boy with open mouth and drawn ears; saw them frantically kicking their heels about to the right and left; and, while his heart stood still with fear for his white brother's safety, he saw the herd, still chasing the ridden zebra, vanish in the forest beyond. Then, waking from the stupor of fear and surprise, Kalulu noted the direction the herd had taken, he hastened back to the bivouac, where Simba and Niani sat waiting the return of the hunters, and breathlessly informed the astounded giant that Selim had galloped away on the back of a zebra into the forest, and urged him to take his gun and follow him; and, without waiting to see the effect of his words, he bounded off again in pursuit of the flying herd. Niani uttered a cry of sorrow, but Simba, after waiting a second to tell him not to stir from his concealment, ran after Kalulu. Overtaking him, they both stood for a moment under the tree where the zebra had lain apparently dead. Kalulu pointed to the direction the herd had taken, and without more words the two, Simba and Kalulu, braced themselves for a run. The soft ground showed the pursuers the traces of the hoofs which had been fiercely struck deep into the ground, as the flanking animals outside of the herd had charged at the rider of their lord; at the base being who had audaciously usurped a seat no living man had a right to claim. The pursuers noted these things as they ran, and could well have described the fury of the herd, as they saw their noble king thus ignominiously treated. What! they! free rovers of the virgin forest and plain, the untamed creatures of the wilds, whose gorgeous backs and splendid hides had never been defiled, within the memory of the oldest zebra, by the bestriding limbs of any man, to see their noble lord insulted! No wonder when such thoughts filled them, that their eyes flashed and their crests bristled, and their flowing tails erected, and their hoofs struck deep with frantic energy into the yielding turf. Then they thought of what Selim's feelings must be, surrounded thus by the indignant creatures, charging, and biting, and kicking at him, eyes kindled with honest rage, as they ranged around their monarch--their open nostrils glowing like fire, and emitting their hot, steamy breath, while he struck right and left, and shouted to fend them off. On continued the pursuers, with increased speed, as they thought of the great danger their young friend was in, with their heads resting on their shoulders, and their faces cutting the tepid breeze, and their mouths wide open to inhale the air in short, quick draughts, for the lungs that rapidly exhausted it, with their hands fanning the wind, and their chests rising and subsiding with each breath they took, and the hips urging and impelling the lagging feet, which fain would have spurned the ground. On, on, my brave, faithful friends! take no heed to yourselves; think not of your growing weariness, or of future pain. Let your livers ache, and the overtasked lungs feel exhausted! Let your heads throb, and your limbs be fatigued; your friend is in need! Be not discouraged. See the large clots of blood that stain the sheeny grass; the zebra monarch must yield to fate, despite his royal body-guard. His life wanes fast, as ye may note by the red blood which dyes the ground. On, on, my gallant souls! Speed on, my agile Kalulu! Confess no fatigue; for thou art a son of the forest, and rightly named after the swift-footed fawnling. On, on, my brave Simba! one effort more; let it not be said that a boy shamed thee! Ha! behold! What said I? Yonder lies your prize stretched on the ground! And see, here is Selim himself advancing towards ye! The Arab boy is then safe. Simba and Kalulu were so tired after their long run, which had lasted an hour, that they were compelled to throw themselves on the ground, while the throbbing hearts heat wildly, and their lungs laboured hard and fast; but finally, though their heads yet ached with pain, they were tranquil enough to hear Selim's story, which was, in the main, described above, though when the zebra staggered and fell, Selim said that he leaped down, and ran behind a tree, while the herd, neighing shrilly, disappeared in the forest, and left their monarch alone to his fate. After a short time Simba and Kalulu were so far recovered, as to be able to rise up to cut up some of the zebra that had given them so much trouble and anxiety; then, loaded with meat, they began to retrace their steps along the same road they had ran so fast in pursuit of him whom they now heard laughing as he told some points of the story. At sunset they arrived at the tree whence the unequal race began, where they found Selim's rifle, which he had unwisely left on the ground, and proceeding to their bivouac, were all heartily welcomed by Moto and Abdullah, who had killed a young buffalo cow, whose generous meat was already cooking on the wooden platform we have in another chapter described. They rested that night in the same spot, where they were so secure from molestation, to enjoy the abundance Nature had furnished them, and to relieve themselves from the strain the arduous labour of flight had imposed upon them the last few days. Continuing their journey at sunrise, they hugged the shore, which they had thus a chance to observe more closely. They could see the waves of the surf break on the rocks at the foot of hills rising above them, or playfully toss themselves in wanton glee on the shingly or the sandy beach, their curling caps becoming white foam as they met resistance in the firm land; and at each hollow between the hills they could note the lazy rillets dribble through the tiny sandy furrows into the lake; or watch how the greater streams that continually discharged themselves by every avenue to the great lake, came sailing round the bends of their course from under the sunless gloom of embracing mangrove bough and cane; or look in wonder at the remarkably lofty matete, which they ever and anon passed, whose each stalk was furnished with many a rapier-like leaf, which rustled gently before the wind, and showed a sheen and glister which the finest silk they had ever seen could not rival; or glance with curious eyes at their stalks below, when they came in contact with the black earth that nourished such profuse vegetation, and see how, one after another, these receded to rayless shadow and all-pervading darkness, in which, however, their ears detected the movements of busy feet, the quick pattering on the earth, the signals and low triumphant cries of the birds, which seek shelter and have their being in such gloomy recesses--from the sleek-looking diver to the active little kingfisher; from the crested crane, or the towering pelican, to the pretty white paddy-birds. They passed many and many a bold cape and lowland, whereon grew wild plaintains, whose broad fronds offered an impervious protection against the noon-day heat, which nourished scores and scores of wild guinea-palms, and dark green tamarinds, and tall trees, too, from whose stems the natives excavate their canoes, and umbrageous sycamores and wide-spreading mimosa. All these headlands and lowlands, head-capes, and far in-reaching bays and creeks, where sported the hippopotami, and lazily floated the crocodile in his enormous length--yea, all were beautiful. Then the lake contracted; the two shores came nearer, and a strong current carried them safely towards the north, and to a lake of still greater size and extent. They continued along the right shore of the lake, congratulating themselves that they were now in the sea of Ujiji. Now and then they passed villages, which they took good care to avoid, and at night they rested on the shore in the deepest recesses of a cane-brake, or on some lonely island far removed from any habitation; day after day they continued their journey unmolested; and each person of the party now came to think that Usowa would certainly be reached in safety. But on the sixth day after they had entered the great lake a storm arose, accompanied by lightning and a great downpour of rain, and the furious waves arched their white crests, and were driven wilder and higher above their heads by the angry wind; while the canoe which had carried them so long became tossed about and pelted by the maddened water, until it seemed as if they must all perish. Simba and Moto manfully laboured at their paddles, and endeavoured to direct her head to the shore, but the strong wind laughed at their efforts, and blew her on before it, and the waves dashed their heads against it, and drove it on--now on their topmost crests, and now into the engulfing troughs which opened to receive it as it was precipitated down to them. The lightning played in all directions, the heavens seemed rent with the deafening thunder-crash, and the rain poured like a deluge; and while the wretched boys were compelled to bale the water with their hands, the wind and wares carried the half-submerged canoe where they listed. Thus through the mist, and fog, and blinding rain, while Simba and Moto continued to keep her before the wind, the canoe was being driven towards an inhabited portion of the shore. The rain ceased for a moment, and the mist cleared away, only to allow the crew in the canoe to see whither they were drifting, and to allow a number of people crowded under a temporary shed on the shore to see them. "Who were these people?" thought the fear-stricken fugitives. "What would be their reception?" But they had no time to think more before they were in the surf, and a mighty wave came and struck the paddle from Simba's hand, and spun the canoe round broadside to a second wave which lifted it to an immense height, and dashed it upside down; while a third came on irresistibly, and sent it and its late crew far on the beach, stunned and bruised, where, before they could arise to their feet, they were pounced upon by the shore people, to be enslaved once more. Oh, misery! The shore people turned out to be a nomadic tribe of Wazavila-- or Wazavira, as the Arabs pronounce the name--who erect their huts anywhere between southern Unyamwezi and Liemba, from Usowa to the borders of Ututa. Had Simba and his companions been able to travel three days longer they might have reached friendly Usowa easily, but here, almost on the threshold of the friendly region, they had fallen into the power of the disreputable Wazavila freebooters, Simba struggled desperately, but neither he nor any of his companions had the slightest chance against the numbers that surrounded them. They were bound hand and foot, and carried under the roof of the shed, where the white bodies and straight hair of the Arabs elicited many a wondering comment, and provoked as much surprise as they had done amongst the Watuta when they were first captured. The chief of these rovers was called Casema. His people, including women and children, numbered about three hundred. About four months before the period at which they are introduced to us by this capture of our unfortunate heroes, they had started from their home, Benzani, a district which lay somewhere north of the Bungwa River, and east of Usowa, to which they now intended to return, having secured such prizes. Simba and Moto heard these remarks, as the chief consulted with his people about the plan of action, and felt convinced they need not despair, that the prospects of an escape eventually from these people were exceedingly bright if they were only prudent in their behaviour. They could govern themselves, but they were not so sure of the fiery young Kituta chief, Kalulu, who would probably before long commit some act of imprudence; nor were they quite sure of the indomitable young Arabs, who would be naturally inclined to despair at so many reverses; for Niani, poor little fellow! who was a slave by birth, they need fear nothing, as he could relapse at will into that state of frigid, stoical apathy a slave with no promising future before him so soon assumes, The sky soon cleared up, the wind went down, and the wares abated, and the captors became more lively in their behaviour; but fearing that some aid might come to their captives in some shape by the lake, at sunset they broke camp, and started for the interior, but not before their miserable slaves had been tied together by the neck, with stout thongs of green hide. The general direction they travelled was east, but the caravan filed by bends and curves so numerous, that it was with great difficulty Moto could settle in his mind in which direction they were going. At midnight they bivouacked in the depth of a forest, and warriors were detailed to watch the captives, but the latter were so fatigued with the exertions of the day, that such precautions were needless. They had soon fallen asleep, despite the unpleasant thongs that encircled their necks, or the more unpleasant bonds which confined their hands behind them. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE SLAVE HUNTERS MEDITATE ANOTHER ATTACK--A TRUE PICTURE OF THE SLAVE TRADE--THE INUNDATED PLAIN--A TERRIBLE CATASTROPHE--THE JOYS OF LIBERTY--SIMBA FIGHTS WITH A LEOPARD--KALULU SYMPATHISES WITH WOUNDED SIMBA--KALULU SHOWS ABDULLAH THE ART OF MAKING A FIRE--NIANI PUNISHES THE DEAD LEOPARD--HOW A MTUTA CHIEF FIGHTS--KALULU VICTORIOUS--SIMBA THINKS KALULU A HERO--SPEARING THE LEPIDOSIREN--HOW A TRUE SON OF THE FOREST ACTS--WHAT KALULU FOUND IN THE ARABS' CAMP--KALULU IS KIDNAPPED!--A VICTIM OF AN ATROCIOUS DEED. The unfortunate captives were wakened rudely at sunrise by smart taps applied to them by the warriors with the butts of their spears. Kalulu felt very much like resenting this rough behaviour; but Moto entreated him, as he saw him raise his flashing eyes, not to urge them to greater violence, as, whether he liked it or not, he was compelled to bear it. They were soon on the road, for savages and slaves take but little time to make ready for their journey. After they had marched a little while, Moto heard the warriors nearest him talk of an attack Casema had determined to make upon a village some time during that night, as he had found out that most of the fighting men had gone south on a hunting expedition, leaving only a few able men to guard it, while there were numbers of women and children within. The village belonged to an isolated tribe of the Northern Wabemba, sometimes called Bobemba. Towards the decline of day the Wazavila halted in a thick grove; and as they would not permit the captives or their own people to kindle fires, all were compelled to eat the grains of Indian corn doled out to them unroasted--a task which the stoutest jaws would find excessively hard. In the meantime it was noticed how the warriors sharpened their spears, and critically examined the strings of their hows, and made other preparations for war upon the defenceless village of the Wabemba, which must have been near, else why all their preparations? About three hours after darkness, after leaving twenty men to guard Kalulu and his companions, the Wazavila, to the number of one hundred and fifty, started to put their murderous purpose into effect. Though Kalulu, Selim, and their friends listened keenly for the sounds of the strife, they heard nothing; but at the end of a couple of hours they saw a red blaze over the tops of the trees to the south, and they knew that the work of the devil was being enacted, or that it had been consummated, and that fearful glare of fire seen against the sky was only the final completion of the craven and wicked deed. About midnight the fiends returned with about two hundred and fifty women and children, and a few old men, the able-bodied having perished to a man, as they afterwards found out, in the defence of their homes. The order to march was given, and through the pathless jungle and forest the Wazavila urged their slaves with spear, blade, and shaft, so they might be far out of reach before the vengeful Wabemba came on their trail. The morning rose and found them still tramping on in a direction considerably north of east, and showed the scene with all its horrors to the sympathising Selim and Abdullah, though to Kalulu, Simba, and Moto such scenes were not new. On this and the following days, for nearly a fortnight, the two Arab boys had this accursed evil of Africa brought vividly before their minds, and they saw to its fullest extent the immeasurable vastness of the sin and crime of which the Wazavila freebooters were guilty. They had wantonly attacked an unoffending village, and reduced to servitude and misery the poor people, whose homes had been fired, the flames of which had made the sombre night lurid with the red glare, and had exhausted themselves among smoking embers and the scorched bodies of the men who had lost their lives in disputing the advance of the Wazavila assassins and midnight robbers, who had stealthily entered this village to make the night hideous and awful with their crimes. Step by step, through that pathless jungle and forest, which seemed interminable, did the poor people moisten the ground with their bloody sweat; step by step did they vent their miseries in hot tears, in groans, which were answered by vicious blows on their backs from their relentless captors. Each day saw an infant, which had been until then full of promise of lusty life, laid down by the side of the path cold and dead; for the mother, under the load of her miseries and privation, could not sustain the young life with her emptied breasts, and too often for detailed recital, she herself resignedly knelt and died by her starved offspring. Too often, alas! did the wretched mother, lacking proper sustenance, first fall dead in her tracks, with her little baby vainly sucking at the chilled breast, while a blank look of hopelessness stole over his little face as he wonderingly looked after the departing caravan, and trembled with an unexplained horror at the dread silence and loneliness of the forest. No mourner was left behind to bewail the fate of these hapless ones; only the moaning winds sang their monotonous requiems until the voracious hyaena and the hungry jackal came to consume that which had become as a blight and ugly spot on nature. Nothing was better calculated to cure Selim and Abdullah of the desire of ever making money by buying and selling slaves than these scenes, even if the unutterable wretchedness of their own condition had not taught them the full meaning of the term "slave" before this. Day by day every good feeling within them was shocked; for day by day new victims to human lust of gain were left cold and stretched in death along the road--old and young seemed to perish alike from the same cause--starvation and fatigue. Neither the patriarch nor the child was absolved from the dire fate. About the fifteenth day they came to a populated plain, where the Wazavila, by the sale of two slaves, obtained sufficient food to distribute a week's rations to each man of the caravan; and in order that their human cattle might recuperate somewhat, they rested in the plain two days. The Wazavila had still nearly one hundred and seventy slaves, over eighty having perished since the night of the attack. When they continued their march the direction which they took was nearly due north, as they were now about a hundred and forty miles due east of the Sea of Ujiji, the great lake in whose troubled waters Kalulu and his companions came so near to an untimely end. During nearly the whole march rain had fallen, and the plain through which they now traversed added by its marshy character to increase the fatigue of marching. In two days the plain had sensibly declined to a lower level, and the water rushing from the higher ground had inundated the whole of that part of it they now traversed to the depth of about six inches; in some places it was still deeper. This portion of the plain the Wazavila told Moto was called Bikwa; and from general conversation that he heard, he knew that shortly they might expect to see a river called the Bungwa, which every year during the rainy season flooded its banks. It was for the purpose of giving their starved slaves strength to cross this terrible plain that the Wazavila had halted two days, as it required a long day's march to traverse the inundated part and to cross the river, on the other side of which was higher ground; while, had they been compelled to travel to the eastward, three days would not have sufficed to get over the swampy plain. Moto communicated his opinions to Simba, declaring that he thought the time to try to make their escape had arrived. It would probably be night, or nearly so, by the time they would reach the river, and, in order to save their slaves from drowning, the Wazavila would be compelled to free them. Simba coincided with Moto, and they passed the word to their friends to hold themselves ready for any contingency that might arise. What little strength the wearied women and children had gained by their two days' rest was soon exhausted in the passage of the Bikwa swamp. The quagmiry road, trodden into tenacious paste by the long file of human beings ahead, soon rendered travelling by those behind them a work of unconquerable difficulty, and some unfortunate woman or child was momentarily struggling for life in the muddy waste, never to rise again. And as the day rapidly passed away, and no signs of the river were yet seen, the anxiety of the Wazavila became evident. But a little after sunset, as the dying day was being rapidly exchanged for night, the head of the caravan arrived at the ford of the Bungwa, which river, as was expected, was emptying an immense volume of water to spread out and inundate the plain. Two or three warriors cautiously ventured into the stream to ascertain its depth and force. As soon as they got in it was evident, by the effort they made to keep their feet, and by its depth, which rose up to the tops of their shoulders at times, that the crossing of the river would be attended with appalling loss of human life. Our party were close to the bank when this experiment was made, watching it with intense interest, and as soon as the warriors had safely crossed, Moto asked a warrior to cut the bonds which bound his hands behind his back, that he might have a chance to save his life. As this was but fair, the warrior complied with his request, and released his hands, as well as those of his companions, and then generously severed the thongs which bound the party neck to neck. Simba led the way into the water; and, being tall and strong, he took Selim by one hand, and Abdullah by the other, into the raging flood. Moto took Niani, Kalulu, lightly touching his lee shoulder, was able to avail himself of Moto as a breakwater, and at the same time assist him with Niani. When Simba reached the middle of the river the feet of both Arab boys were swept from under them, and the same happened to little Niani, while Kalulu could with difficulty keep his feet--so strong was the flood. It was a long and anxious task, even for Simba and Moto; but they finally emerged on the bank in the darkness, and sat down, apparently worn out. Closely following Simba's party were about twenty of the warriors, each leading a woman or a child by the hand; but the first of these warriors happened to be unfortunate, for the woman he led, feeling herself unable to resist the flood, uttered a terrible cry of alarm, and sprang forward, and, being swept against the almost submerged head of the warrior, carried him down with the rapid current. The warrior dived to release himself from the woman, and swam bravely for the shore--two of the warriors on the shore alongside of Simba's party running down the bank to assist their companions. The cries and screams of the drowning woman threw the women and children then in the stream into a panic, and so confused the men leading and assisting them, that they staggered and allowed themselves to recede downwards, step by step, which soon took them into deep water, and the men themselves had to begin straggling for their lives, while the poor women and children were carried down, far beyond aid, by the impetuous current, uttering their drowning cries, which were heard far above all, until they ceased to struggle, and were silenced by the watery grave they had found. Casema's voice was heard commanding that every two warriors should lead a woman between them, and while the shouts and the screams of the terrified females announced that this course had begun to be tried, Simba nudged Moto as a sign to be ready, and to seize the bows and arrows of the two men who had gone down the bank, while he himself would snatch the spear of the warrior who was still standing by as a sentry over them. Moto conveyed the intimation to Kalulu and the other three to hold themselves ready, and hinted back to Simba to begin. Quick as a lightning's flash, Simba rose, and snatching the spear on which the warrior leaned, lifted him high in the air, and tossed him head-foremost into the river before he could utter a cry. Meantime, Moto had collected the three bows, and three quivers full of arrows; and each, taking hold of one another by the hand, ran from the bank before a single alarm could be given. Our friends were far out on the plain before a chorus of shrill cries for help announced that another calamity had taken place at that awful ford; and were it only for being relieved from witnessing the many more calamities that must take place before all those living could reach the hither bank, they conceived that they had just cause to congratulate themselves. Once clear out of sound of the disastrous ford, Moto suggested that they should strike to the north-west, lest, by going too far to the north, they might fall across more of the predatory Wazavila, a suggestion that Simba thought prudent and thoughtful. Kalulu breathing free again, after his escape a second time from slavery, felt light as air, and was for the moment as happily disposed as he could well be, while Selim and Abdullah felt in their hearts an overflowing gratitude to Allah for his protection and deliverance from vile bondage, and breathed prayers to him to continue in his care of them. Long before morning dawned, they felt that the character of the country was changed; for rounded shadows heaving upwards gave them an idea that hills were becoming frequent, and that these they saw were but the vanguard of some range they were approaching. The morning and its welcome light confirmed this opinion; for before them rose a majestic ridge of mountains, clothed from top to base with greenest verdure. Prudence counselled them to seek the mountains by the most unlikely way, and they accordingly adopted the precaution, and were soon scaling a steep slope, overgrown with the feathery bamboo. From the eminence they attained, they turned their eyes to note the plain they had left, which was now spread out before them in one grand prospect, while it spoke or revealed nothing of the misery and sorrow which they knew existed in some part of it, among the human beings driven to hopeless bondage by the cruel Wazavila. Unable to dwell upon its false and treacherous beauty, they turned towards the mountains, which, so far, had nothing of the ominous or fatal in its features for them. The sun seemed a long time coming out, they thought, as they looked towards the east; but then it was the rainy season throughout Central Africa, which had been heralded in by that awful storm on the sea of Ujiji, and out of which they had escaped to experience the privations of bondage; and the lowering mist and humid fog hovering over the crag-bound ridges above them was the result of the rains that had lately submerged the Bikwa Plain throughout its length and breadth. About noon, after they had lost themselves in the deep folds of the mountains, our party rested to recover their strength, and to aid the recovery more rapidly by grinding some of their corn rations between their jaws. Simba thought this very dry eating, since they were free, and expressed a decided objection to remain much longer without meat, which, in his opinion, was the only food fit for a free man. Kalulu agreed with him in all he said, and volunteered to accompany any man in a search for game, which, he said, ought to be plentiful in such solitudes. Whereupon Simba agreed to accompany him; but since he did not know much about a bow, he would take his spear, which he could throw as well as any other man, while Kalulu could take a bow and his quiver of arrows. Matters being thus arranged, Moto promised to be very good, and look after the boys, and see that they got into no mischief during the absence of Simba and Kalulu, upon which Simba thanked him, and bade him surely expect something within an hour. Kalulu held three arrows in his left hand, and his bow in his right, and descending a deep ravine which opened shortly into a mountain valley of exquisite beauty, he was gratified to observe a solitary eland lying under a tree, with a splendid pendulous dew-lap, moving about as it erected its head to chew the cud and to enjoy in that solitude the sweet repast of grass it had lately eaten. Simba stood hid behind a tall tree, while Kalulu, master of the art he was now practising, began to move through the grass towards it with the ease of a snake. For a moment the young chief debated within himself when to send his arrow, but finally arrived at a conclusion; for he drew his bow, and drove an arrow behind the fore-shoulder, which, penetrating through, pierced the heart, and after one or two spasmodic bounds into the air, the eland stretched himself on the ground, dying. Kalulu turned round to beckon to his companion, when he saw with surprise that Simba had broken his spear short, and, after stripping himself, had rolled his loin-cloth around his left hand, and raising his shortened spear, had put himself into an attitude of defence against something. He at once bounded forward to assist his friend, when at the first step he took he saw a leopard spring upon Simba with a terrific cry. Uttering a cry of horror--but nothing daunted by the ferocity of the animal--he placed a barbed arrow on the string of his bow, and came up close to the combatants just as he witnessed Simba thrusting his left hand into the leopard's mouth, and driving his spear repeatedly into his side. The animal's claws were buried in the left hip and knees of Simba, which he was viciously tearing; but his jaws were rendered useless by thick folds of cloth which Simba had thrust into his mouth at the first onset of the brute. It was well that Simba was such a powerful man, else the shock of the onset would have knocked him down, when it would have become doubtful work to save his throat from the gleaming fangs. Kalulu stayed only to take in these observations, and then stepped deliberately nearer, and drove an arrow through him; and without waiting to watch the results, drove another, and still another, while Simba drove his spear several times deep into his heart, and exerting his strength when he felt the claws relax, he brought his right leg forward, and turning the animal's back on it, pressed down his head with his left hand, and drew the sharp spear-blade twice across the throat, almost severing the head. Then the animal, yielding to superior strength and weapons, fell off, shivered once or twice, and lay extended lifeless-- dead. Poor Simba was most grievously wounded; for the claws had penetrated deep into his hip, while the knee-bone was bare. "Ah!" sighed he, as he heard the expressions of sympathy from his young friend, "if I had only some of that eland thou didst shoot, Kalulu, in me yesterday, to-day I should have bent that beast double, as easily as I would fold a piece of cloth. But grain-food! who can be strong after feeding on grain-food for sixteen days? Give grain to asses, but meat for men!" "See here, Simba. Do thou rest thyself under this tree, while I go and bring our friends here. It is far easier for them to come here than for us to carry the eland to them. Thou mayest take my cloth to wrap round thy wounds. I don't need cloth while thou art thus." So saying, the generous, sympathising youth hastened to inform his friends of the accident that had happened to Simba, which they received with surprise and consternation. Selim and Abdullah, who had been indebted so often to the power that lay in Simba's arm, as soon as they heard of the wounds which their champion had received, now hastened to him to offer their services. "Speak, Simba! Oh! the frightful beast!" said Selim, as his eye caught sight of the mangled and gashed leopard. "Speak! art thou much hurt?" Simba was reclining under the tree, looked slightly troubled with his pains; the clothe he had taken to staunch the blood were lying on the wounded hip and knee, by no means pleasant to look at. The two boys, seeing these things, judged immediately that Simba's case was very grave--that he was going to die; and, not knowing what else to do, they began to cry, to sound the praises of their dear friend, and lament his sudden "taking off." Simba, however, answered them as quickly as he could subdue a pang of pain, and command language. "Nay, weep not, young masters. Simba is but slightly wounded--flesh wounds--nothing more. No, no, Simba is not going to die; he must see his wife and children, and Selim in his home again, before he can die. But--Master Abdullah!" "Yes, Simba, what is it?" "Dost thou really like big Simba?" "Oh, Simba, how canst thou ask? Thou hast succeeded my father Mohammed in my affections. Remember the Liemba and the crocodile. I can never forget that awful moment, for the scars on my leg remind me of it daily." "I thought thou didst like Simba a little; but wouldst thou be very sorry if Simba died to be left in this valley to be eaten by the hyaena and the jackal, Abdullah?" "Don't, don't, Simba, for Allah's sake, ask any such thing. Thou hast said thou art not going to die, then why torment me?" "Yes; but I might die if Master Abdullah did not do me one favour, for--" "Speak; command me, Simba--anything, everything," urged Abdullah. "If Master Abdullah would only make a little fire, and Master Selim cut a little meat from that fine eland that lies dead by that tree yonder, Simba might eat meat and live." "Thou shalt have meat, Simba," cried Abdullah, "before thou canst count one hundred," and he bustled about, ran here and there; collected bunches of dry grass, leaves, twigs, sticks; brought a good-sized log or two of dead wood, between which a fire should be built; while Selim, after taking the spear which had probed the leopard's heart, had run towards the dead eland, and was slashing and carving great chunks of meat. Abdullah had his pile of wood ready, but he now turned with a puzzled expression towards Simba, and said "Here is the wood; but where and how can we get fire? Our guns are in the bottom of the sea!" Kalulu, Moto, and Niani had come up by this time, and Moto, after examining the wounds of his friend, turned round to Abdullah and said: "Kalulu will help thee, Abdullah, to get fire; he does not need a musket-pan or powder." Abdullah wae curious to know how, for he had always seen a musket-pan used, though he had wondered often when a slave with the Wazavila how the natives obtained a fire; but he had never seen the process. Kalulu, however, proceeded to show Abdullah how the Watuta obtained fire by other means than a musket-pan. Selecting a piece of stiff, dry bark, he placed it between his feet on the ground, and sprinkled it with a little sand, which he first rubbed dry and warm between the palms of his hands. He now chose the strongest arrow in his quiver, and, cutting off the feathers and the notch, he pared the end until it was level. Then gathering some dry leaves and grass straw on the sanded bark, rested the end of his arrow in the centre, and began to twirl the arrow round with the palms of his hands with a steady downward pressure. In a short time smoke was seen to issue, and, continuing the operation, two or three sparks of fire shot out among the straw and leaves, which, being blown, was soon nursed into flame. "That is how the Watuta obtain their fire," said Kalulu to Abdullah, with an air of superiority, which the latter thought was quite pardonable, since Kalulu did really produce a fire on which meat might be cooked for the benefit of his friend Simba. "O Selim! Selim! O Selim!" cried Kalulu, "haste hither with the meat." Abdullah, in his impatience to see Simba's jaws at work, reiterated the cry, "O Selim! Selim! O Selim! come with the meat, come quick." "Coming!" was the answer which that industrious young Arab gave, as he turned his face toward the group with a shoulder of eland meat on his back. "Now, Niani, haste to get more. Think of poor Simba, thy father, suffering for want of it; there's a good boy, bring plenty," said Abdullah; while in the meantime Kalulu had chosen an arrow-blade, and with it was preparing the slender sticks to impale the meat when it would be cut into kabobs for broiling, and Moto had bound Simba's wounded knee with bandages made out of Kalulu's loin-cloth, and had staunched the blood that had been pouring from the wounded hips. Moto also set to work at erecting a shed, which might shelter the whole party, and made a luxurious bed of grass and leaves on to which his friend was assisted. Kalulu then, while the meat was broiling, and the most pressing duties of the camp had been performed, turned to skin the leopard, whose hide, he thought, would make an admirable loin-covering for himself. Simba, after he had managed to eat as much of the eland as any two ordinary men would have eaten, began to feel his strength returned to him, and said: "Ah! there is nothing like meat for medicine, after all. It makes a man look kinder towards his fellows, and if he has his stomach full there is nought that he cannot bear. If I had always plenty of meat in me I would as soon fight a leopard every day as not; and if I had a good knife I would be willing to fight a lion rather than run away from him." Such sentiments, noble and worthy of the great man who spoke them, met with hearty approbation from his repleted friends, and Moto was of the opinion that after a stomachful of good meat he might also, if hard pressed, do damage to either a leopard or a lion. Selim, following suit, suggested that he, being but a boy, ought to have his English gun in his hand before he could be expected to fight a lion or a leopard; while Abdullah and Niani gravely expressed their fears that if they met either of those beasts of prey they would think of climbing some tall tree before doing anything else. Kalulu, after skinning the leopard, proceeded to spread the hide out on a piece of spongy sward for the sun to dry it, putting a number of small pegs around to stretch it. The leopard, being denuded of his splendid dress, was not so much an object of fear to little Niani as it had been; it was no more fearful than a skinned dog would have been, though the canine teeth still looked formidable. But knowing the injury it had caused Simba during life, he could not help seizing the broken spear-shaft, and belabouring the dead brute with it in a vicious manner, which no doubt the leopard would have resented, could he have felt the blows showered on him. Having taken his fill of this mild revenge, Niani seized it by the tail and dragged it far out of sight. The valley wherein these adventures occurred would have been deemed by our friends exceedingly pretty at any other season, but almost every other moment the wind drifted great dense masses of rain-cloud across its face, which completely blurred its beauty, and added more volume to the streams that constantly poured down the slopes from above. Safe, however, for the time under their shed, they could contemplate their little annoyances with liberal philosophy, and could readily adapt themselves to the circumstances without great sacrifice of comfort. Simba was too sore to move for two days, but on the third day they broke their miniature encampment, and continued their journey through the mountains in a direction nearly north-west. Tropical mountains are always grand, but during the rainy season their grandeur is enhanced. Why? Because wherever you turn your eyes you see some pinnacle, or crag, or summit buried in the angry clouds, which are a dirty grey, and ragged at the edges, but are an impenetrable mass behind of inky blackness, as if the night had been gathered and compressed into an enormous black ball ready to be hurled upon the valleys and plains by some vengeful fury. These black balls of clouds, poised upon the topmost mountain, are a feature in Central Africa; they seem to stand a moment in their precarious position, when a furious wind, which flurries everything in its way, tears along with a mighty sound, reaches the monstrous ball, lifts it up a moment above the mountains, and then hurls it upon the quiet sunlit valleys with thunder-crash and lightning, and great floods of rain. These were of daily, sometimes hourly, occurrence, while our travellers journeyed slowly to where they conceived friends might be found. Owing to Simba's wounds, their progress was necessarily slow, and this gave them ample opportunities to watch the phenomena we have described. At the end of a week they were not forty miles from the Rungwa Plain, and at the termination of that period Simba declared he felt as strong and as well as ever, and the eighth day he led the way as formerly, and twenty-five miles were marched. This day's journey brought the travellers to a long, straight, narrow valley, which was converted through alluvial deposits and vegetable mould of centuries into a quagmire of extraordinary profundity. On the opposite side of the oozy valley to that on which they stood, there was some cultivation, and in a circular jungle they descried a few huts, probably a village. On their side the ground rose up gradually to an ancient clearing, from which disused roads ramified in all directions, which were a sufficient evidence that at one time the country was well populated. They were striking up one of these roads leading to the old clearing, called Tongoni in the language of Zanzibar, when an arrow whistled close to Simba's ear, followed by another and another. Kalulu's trained ear detected the sound at once, and casting his eyes hastily around he saw a group of men wearing cloth round their loins, hidden in a thick bush; how many men he could not tell, nor did he wait to count them, but shouted to his friends: "Up, up! Simba--Moto--up, my brother! up, Niani! run towards that peak beyond the clearing. I will follow you. I shall stop to bring these fellows out, and to show them how a Mtuta and a chief can fight." "No," said Simba, "we will not go up without you. Come with us, Kalulu." "Fear not for me, but think of the Arab boys and yourselves. They cannot catch me. Go on to the peak. Go, Selim, Abdullah; Kalulu begs of you." "Let him be, Simba," said Moto; "Kalulu knows what he is about;" and without waiting to see whether Simba followed him, he snatched hold of Selim's hand and ran with him up the hill. Simba followed with Abdullah and Niani before him. As soon as he saw his friends start off, Kalulu limped most painfully towards a tall tree that stood near him, and crawled as if he were grievously wounded behind it. But the minute he felt himself safe behind the tree, he fixed an arrow in his bow, while he held three others in his left hand. Kalulu had not to wait a second before six men came from behind the bush and rushed towards his hiding-place, until they had come within about fifty yards from the tree, when they surrounded it, and one of them seeing him, hurled his spear at him. The spear fell short, about a yard from the feet of Kalulu, but the boy never made any sign of movement. Encouraged by his silence, another spear was hurled at him, which just missed his body, for it fell quivering at his side, not six inches from him. Then an assegai, or a long javelin came, and grazed the bark above his head, and still no answer, from which they surmised that he was wounded too much to make any reply; but immediately one of them, bolder than the rest, made a forward leap to advance towards him, Kalulu drew his bow and sent an arrow through his chest, and before the others could seek shelter again he had shot another through his side. Then, snatching the two spears and assegai which had been thrown at him, the young chief uttered the Kitutu war-cry and bounded, light as an antelope, through the thin jungle. On seeing the lad run the others rose from their shelter and gave chase. On reaching the top of the rising ground, Kalulu threw himself behind a thick bush of thorn and waited, with eyes and ears on the alert, and fingers on his bow-string, until catching sight of the foremost he took a deliberate aim at him and pierced his throat with an arrow; and, before a sound could have been uttered by the dying man, he had fixed his arrow again and was aiming at a fourth, when the fellow turned about to run, but too late to escape the arrow which, following him, buried itself up to the feathers in his back. Emerging from his hiding-place, he retraced his steps, deliberately took up the arms, the bows and arrows and spears of the two last he had slain, and seeing the two remaining in full flight, turned round, and sought his companions, who were anxiously waiting for him on the summit of the peak. In a few moments he had come up with them, and they listened in wonder to his tale, how he had slain four of their enemies, to which his trophies bore ample testimony. Simba began accusing himself of cowardice, and everything else that was bad, when the young chief stopped him, and said: "Not so, Simba; thou art big and a good target for an arrow; but I am small and thin, and if there had been twenty I could, by being prudent, have escaped easily. None of these people like to come out to the open to fight, and so long as there was but one to fight they would never have chased anybody else; and by dodging through the bushes, shooting the most forward of them, I could have so thinned them that when they reached us on this peak they would not have been able to take us without losing many more men, and perhaps losing all. If we all had been together those fellows might have killed two or three of us, and whom could we have spared?--Selim? Abdullah? Niani? No, Simba; thou seest that I could not have acted otherwise." "I saw that when you told us to go," said Moto. "Who of us knows much about arrows? Master Selim and Master Abdullah know nothing; Niani is too small even if he did know. Simba says he don't, and I am sure I know but very little compared to a man who all his life has shot with nothing else but his bow. Now, with a gun--" "Ah, yes; if we had but three or four guns," sighed Simba, "thou wouldst not have been left alone, Kalulu." "If I had only my English gun here now,--two barrels,--always true--not one of those men would have escaped," remarked Selim. "But, my brother, surely only two have escaped as it is," replied Kalulu, laughing; "and they are too scared to trouble us any more, I think, though it is time for us to be off before others from the village on the other side of the valley come after us. Here is a spear for thee, Moto; and a spear also for thee, Simba. I will keep one spear, and Selim and Abdullah may keep the hows and arrows. We shall have something for Niani by-and-by, perhaps." "I hope not," said Simba, "before we get amongst friends." This feat of Kalulu's in killing four men raised him highly in Simba's estimation, and the consequence of it was that he came to pay great deference to him, far greater than he ever had paid to him before; for thus far, except that he showed himself capable of bearing great fatigue, could run well, was lithe and strong for his age, he had looked upon him as a boy merely. Now, however, as he turned to seek the deep woods, on the ridge leading from the peak to the low range of hills beyond, he furtively eyed him from head to foot, and then shook his head, muttering to himself; "What is the matter, friend Simba," asked Kalulu, "that thou dost eye me so, and shake thy head?" "Thou hast a quick eye, Kalulu; and it is as true as thy wrist and arm. I have been thinking," he said in a low voice, "that when thou art a few years older thou wilt be almost as strong as I am now, and that when thou returnest to thy country, Ferodia will be sorry for what he has done, for he will find thee a very lion in his way." "Thou mayst well say that, Simba," said Moto. "The little boy who pinned my arm to the shield I held when Kisesa attacked his father's village, is improved wonderfully. Wallahi! if he kills four men now when he is but a boy, how many will he kill when he is a man. Ferodia will wish that he had never thought of being king." "Wait, my friends, wait! Wait a few moons only; I will show you what Kalulu can do. Killing four men is nothing. I have killed chiefs and many men in our wars, as Soltali said in his song. Ferodia shall see Kalulu's face again; but I do not think it will be as his slave." "I wonder," said Moto, "what country this is; and what tribe did that village belong to. Hast thou any idea, Simba?" "Not I; I never was here before." "Dost thou know, I think those were Wazavila too. They are scattered everywhere about this country since they were driven from their own by Simba, son of Mkasiwa, of Unyanyembe. Ah! that chief is such another as thou art, Simba. A lion by name and a lion in war. He has been the only one able to punish these thieves of Wazavila." "In what direction is his country? dost thou know?" asked Simba. "It ought to be north of where we are--two or three days yet. He is chief of a country called Kasera; but we ought to come to the Unyanyembe road, that goes from Usowa and Fipa, before we reach Kasera." That night our friends camped near the base of a reddish range of mountains, by the side of a small stream, and in the morning they breasted the most feasible part of the range, and made their way with considerable difficulty through a tangle of bamboo, tiger grass, and thorn-bush. Emerging out of the depths of a stony ravine, they at last stood upon the topmost height of the red mountain range, the colour of which they perceived came from the vast quantities of haematite of iron, of which the mountains principally consisted. By using their observation, they were also enabled to ascertain that this range was the watershed of the Rungwa River, for it ran so far east and west that no springs issuing into the plain of the Bungwa could rise further north of this range, for as far as they saw north the country trended north and west, while south of the range on which they stood the country trended west and south. Moto took this as a good sign of their approaching Unyamwezi, and raised the spirits of his friends considerably by delivering this as his opinion. He also advised that they should now bend their steps east of north. After a very long march that day, they camped near a lengthy but shallow pool in a forest several leagues to the north-east of the red range. Kalulu thought that, from the numbers of birds about--of fish-eagles, cranes, pelicans, hornbills, kingfishers, ducks, and curious geese armed with spurs on their wings, that there must be fish in the pool, and accordingly took his spear and stationed himself near it. In a very short time he saw a movement in the muddy water, and darting the spear straight for it, brought out of the slimy depths a specimen of the Lepidosiren, or a bearded mud-fish, weighing about ten or twelve pounds. His success was hailed with delight by his half-famished comrades, who, though they had bagged a small antelope since the eland, had been much stinted in their meat rations lately. Each member at once constituted himself a harpoonist; but, excepting Simba and Moto, no luck met the efforts of the others, as they could never throw their spears straight downwards, the spear always swerving to one side when near the bottom, owing to the over-firm hold with which they held their spears. But the success of Kalulu, Simba, and Moto proved ample to furnish the entire party with sufficient for a good supper and breakfast. They found the meat of the mud-fish very good, though very fat; but being half-starved, their stomachs were not over delicate. Continuing their march next day at sunrise, they came to a park-land, agreeably diversified with noble sycamores, and islets formed by dense growths of aloetic plants and thorn-bush; and about noon they came to a well-tramped road, which, after noticing its direction, Moto declared would take them to the Unyanyembe road. Inspired by this news, which certainly, after all they had gone through, was well calculated to produce joyous emotions within them, they tramped along this road at a rapid rate, and visions of home, though still far away, came vividly to the minds of the Arab boys, and they unconsciously pictured their mothers looking out of the lattice-windows of their homes, ever-gazing towards the continent and ever-wondering where their absent boys were. A couple of hours before sunset they arrived in a thin forest. They formed their camp, and surrounded it with brushwood to guard against beasts of prey, and proceeded to warm what fish they had left. It was such a very small morsel for hungry men that Kalulu proposed that he should sally out with his bow and endeavour to pick up something more. He was strongly dissuaded not to go by Simba and Moto; even Selim and Abdullah begged him to remain with them, as they could well afford to be without more food until morning; but Kalulu laughed merrily, and told them not to be alarmed, he could take good care of himself. Seeing that he was determined, they said no more. As Kalulu left the little camp, he threw out, for a last remark, that they might expect him shortly back with something fit to eat. He chose the road before him--the road that his companions would have to take next morning. He looked keenly to the right and the left, searched every suspicious place, and allowed nothing to escape him. The thin forest thinned once more to a small plain sprinkled with dwarf ebony and a species of blue gum-thorn. Numbers of ant-hills also dotted the plain, whose grey tops presented a strong contrast to the young grass of the plain. Beyond this loomed a forest thickening again; it was but ten or twelve minutes walking; success might meet him there, he thought, and he proceeded towards it, arriving there by smart walking a few minutes earlier than he anticipated. He still marched on, hoping that something might meet his eye which might be broiled over a comfortable fire, and enliven the little society of wanderers with whom he found himself; and thus arguing with himself, he proceeded still further. Suddenly he saw smoke. There is nothing specially dangerous in smoke, he thought; but what smoke could this be in the forest? There was no cultivation about, therefore it could not be a village. What was it? Kalulu was a true son of the forest--a true hunter; his instincts were on the alert. The curious phenomenon of a smoke in the forest daring the rainy season must be explained. What could it be? He began to glide from tree to tree, from clump to clump; now crouching behind a wart-hog's mound, that that beast had raised above its burrow, then wriggling along the grass like a snake, and presently leaping up with the activity of a leopard, until he drew nearer to the smoke, so near that he heard voices. "Voices!" The very fact of a human voice being heard in the forest, except his own, had something portentous in it; for had not all voices lately been those of enemies? He was ten times more cautious now; and something like a half-regret for venturing hither came into his mind. Why had he come so far at all? Why had he not listened to his brother Selim and his friends, who begged him not to go out? He watched from behind the tree, and saw people; men wearing cloth round their heads, long cloth clothes leading down to their feet, like those (he heard from Selim often) the Arabs used at Zanzibar. He listened; and while trying to distinguish the language heard words such as Selim, Abdullah, Simba, Moto, and Niani used. The language was not of the interior of Africa around Ututa, nor Uzivila, nor Uwemba, surely; and these people going about the camp in white cloths and long white clothes were not natives. He had never heard of any natives wearing such clothes. They must be Arabs! Did not Moto tell him that they were on the Unyanyembe road, and that they might meet an Arab caravan going to Fipa, or catch up an Arab caravan going to Unyanyembe from Fipa. Of course these were Arabs; people of Simba, and people of Selim, Moto, Abdullah, and Niani! They were his friends, since he was a brother of Selim! What should he do? Should he go back at once and gladden the hearts of his friends with the good news? Ah! the suggestion came near being acted upon; but it was not, for immediately it was replaced by another, "Why not go to them, make thyself known, and they will be good to thee for Selim's sake?" Poor boy! Innocent youth! He judged all Arabs to be good, like Selim and Abdullah, and he stepped out of his hiding-place and walked deliberately to the camp. He was soon seen, addressed, and invited to come up to them. "Hi, Ndgu! njo." ("Hello, my brother! come here.") This was a fair beginning, to call him "my brother," the English reader will think. Not at all; it is an ordinary hail to a stranger, in the same way that "Rafiki," my friend, is. But Kalulu advanced, and many men--probably thirty--hurried to meet him. Three men, apparently chiefs of the party--but they were not white, like Selim or Abdullah--were talking together as he came up to them. The oldest of them--marked with the small-pox, a man with very small eyes--who had a light bamboo cane in his hand, turned towards him, and asked him who he was, where he came from, what he was doing in the forest all alone, to which Kalulu answered as well as he was able in broken Kisawhili--the coast language--smiling all the time, and wishing he would testify some pleasure at seeing him. The man turned round to his companions, and talked with them rapidly a language he did not understand, but it was horribly guttural. It was Arabic; and as the harsh words were heard Kalulu almost shuddered. The man with the stick pointed to Kalulu often, the others nodded, apparently agreeing with what the pock-marked, small-eyed chief said. The chief Arab--he was not an Arab, but a half-caste, half-negro, half-Arab--sat down and pointed to Kalulu to seat himself by him. This, thought Kalulu, was friendly; and in pure guilelessness he asked him: "Are ye Arabs?" "Certainly. Mashallah! What did you take us for?" replied the chief. "I don't know. I thought ye were Arabs, but I was not sure." Then Kalulu looked round, more at home. In one corner of the camp he saw a large gang of slaves, chained and padlocked safe. No chance of running for any of those, he thought. Simba could not break that chain, nor any of the strong iron padlocks which confined each collar. He was about to ask another question, when, without warning, without the least suspicion having been raised in his mind, he was pounced upon by half-a-dozen men from behind and disarmed. The slave-gang was brought up close to him, an iron collar was handed to the chief, who encircled the young neck of Kalulu with it, slipped an iron loop over the folding crescents, introduced a strong padlock into a staple after it, locked it, and then stood up to survey his captive. He nodded to the men who had hold of him. They released him, and the boy stood up, and the captor and captive looked at each other. "Did ye not tell me ye were Arabs?" "We are Arabs," answered the chief, laughing at his simplicity. "Then if ye are Arabs, what does this violence mean?" "It means you are my slave." "Slave! I a slave?" "Certainly, and worth over fifty dollars at Zanzibar." "I a slave! Do you know Selim?" "Selim? What Selim? I know plenty of Selims." "My Selim. Only my Selim. A white Arab boy, of my size?" "What of him?" "He is my brother." "Your brother! A white Arab boy your brother. Dog of a pagan!" "The blood ceremony was entered into between us. I am the King of the Watuta." "You a king of the Watuta! Ha! ha! ha! We have plenty of kings with us. Do you see that woman before you? She is a queen in Uwemba. Kings sell well. If you were king of all the devils, and brother to all the Arab Selims, you are my slave now, and the likeliest, best looking I ever had. I will not part with you under one hundred dollars. Wallahi! There, go. Men, take them away. Strike camp. He for the sofari" (journey.) "But listen, chief, I am not your slave. Let me go. Simba and Selim will be angry with you if you keep me. Let me go, chief. Oh! let me go to the camp; it is right close here." "Silence! No words, not one word. You are my slave. Arabs know how to keep slaves. For the bad slaves there is a yoke-tree, besides chains. Be wise, and keep silence. You shall go to Zanzibar with that chain around your neck; if you are bad, you shall go with the yoke-tree around your neck. For those slaves who talk too much we have sticks. Be wise, I tell you. Drive the gang on, men." Kalulu was desperate; the blood rushed to his head; he got furious. His senses and feelings were one wild riot. He could not describe how or why he leaped with frantic energy at the villain. He was possessed with fury. He therefore struck at him, caught hold of him, tried to beat his brains out with his chain, and would have done it, no doubt, or so bruised his features that they would have become undistinguishable; but he now had to deal with clever men, who knew what the spasmodic, despairing energy of slaves newly captured was. Before he had given the man more than three blows he was dragged off, kicked, pounded, cuffed, bruised, and almost strangled. Then a systematic flogging took place; such a flogging that a villainous half-caste, enraged, would be likely to give, while he fought with all his might, and gave half-a-dozen of them work enough to hold him. When the punishment was over, he was not left to meditate upon his position, but was marched off in the direction of Unyanyembe, the last of the slave-gang! The Arabs were about making what they call a "tiri-kesa"--that is, an evening journey--in order to reach water before noon next day, by which time they would probably have made a march of thirty miles. They had camped deep in the woods, about half a mile from the road. Had it not been for the smoke of their fires, Kalulu would never have seen them, probably. When once their fires went out it would be difficult for anybody to know that a slave-gang had been there, or that such a cruel deed as the kidnapping of Kalulu had ever taken place. If the Arabs but continued their journey until noon, and started again at night, and left no trace behind, how would it be possible for those who would seek Kalulu to find a trace of him? What a change of feeling came over the outraged youth! What a sudden and complete transformation was this! He left a camp of Arabs to enter another. In one, he was beloved, esteemed, idolised; in the other, he was a slave, beaten like a dog, chained! In one camp the Arabs were good, kind, brotherly; in the other, they were robbers, kidnappers, enslavers, villains. In one camp he esteemed, he admired, he loved; in another, he brooded over his injuries, and he hated with all the hate with which one wronged is able to hate. If he was treated so harshly at the beginning of his slavery; if he was the victim of such damnable atrocity as that which he had suffered, by what rule or system could be measured that which he would have to suffer before he reached Zanzibar; and at Zanzibar, with that iron collar perpetually about his neck, how could he ever advantage himself? Would there ever be an end to the indescribable misery he suffered now? Had he parted for ever from freedom and friendship? Would there ever be hope for him more? These were the thoughts that filled his mind as he was marched off to slavery with that inflexible iron collar about his neck, and the horrid chain swinging from one side to the other, with that long file of slaves before him, and the long file of flinty kidnappers behind him. Ah! poor Kalulu! Thou art but one of the thousands upon thousands of wretched men, women, and children who have trodden that road to its present hardness and smoothness; whose wild delirious thoughts have never found speech as thine have; whose hopeless looks have never been portrayed in any book; whose silent prayers have never seen the light, nor have been rehearsed in any hall where kind Christian men and women would hear them and commiserate their sufferings; whose indescribable agonies have never been touched upon by a kindly pen! But go thou on to slavery, as the thousands who have gone before thee, until English readers shall meet with thee again! CHAPTER FIFTEEN. THE ALARM OF KALULU'S FRIENDS--THE SEARCH FOR KALULU--O KALULU, KALULU!--SHALL WE NEVER MORE SEE KALULU?--ONLY TREES, TREES, TREES-- KALULU IS LOST!--THE MARCH TO UNYANYEMBE--WHY COME YE IN THIS GUISE, CHILDREN?--AMONG FRIENDS AT LAST!--SELIM AND ABDULLAH IN ARAB COSTUME-- THE LION LORD'S CITY--HOME AGAIN!--SELIM EMBRACES HIS MOTHER--KALULU DISCOVERED!--THE SLAVE-MARKET. HOW MUCH FOR KALULU?--KALULU RESTORED TO HIS FRIENDS--KALULU INTRODUCED TO ABDULLAH'S MOTHER--MY KALULU! Returning to the camp of our friends, we find the sun has set, and darkness is settling fast over the earth. Simba stands at the gate of the camp with an anxious face, for his young friend Kalulu has not yet returned. Moto, Selim, and Abdullah are just within waiting, and listening eagerly for the slightest sound of footsteps. "What can be the matter with the boy? Dost thou think he could get lost, Moto?" asked Simba. "No; Kalulu could not lose himself if he tried. He has slain something, and is coming with a heavy load of meat, so as not to make two journeys. It takes the like of Kalulu to know how to kill game." "I wish he had not gone away," said Selim, "because it would be a pity if he came to harm when we are so close to friends." "What harm can happen to him about here, except from a lion or a leopard? But if he met either beast I would set Kalulu against him. There are plenty of trees about here for him to climb up, and I should like to see the monkey that would excel him in climbing," said Moto. Still the night grew deeper and deeper, and the anxiety of the friends increased. "What road did he take; dost thou know, Moto?" asked Simba. "I think he took the Unyanyembe road; but he may have gone after something in the forest. If he saw any game he would not be likely to remain in the road. He would go after it, of course," replied Moto. "Well, I am going to look for him. Wilt thou come? The boys can keep a good fire up to let us know where the camp is," said Simba. "What a soft fellow thou art, Simba! Dost thou not know that in the night we can do nothing to hunt him up, when he may be anywhere but in the place where we are looking for him? If we had a gun we might signal him; but by going out in this darkness we would only tire ourselves to no purpose. If Kalulu has been taken too far away by following an antelope or something else, the boy has a thousand ways of passing the night. He could sleep in a tree-bough, in a hollow tree, or in the burrow of a wild boar, just as well as he could sleep in the camp. I am no hunter like Kalulu, yet I could do it, for I have been lost many times in the woods. What we must do, is to sleep in the camp to-night, and the first thing at daybreak we two shall go different roads, and wake all the country round with our cries." "Thou art wiser than I am, Moto, yet it is very hard. If any harm comes to him, I shall always accuse myself for a poor silly fellow who did not know how to take care of a boy. I am sorry I did not stop him, for something tells me harm has come to him. I would I knew where he was. I would soon see whether a good friend at his back could help him or not. We shall rest here until daybreak, and may Allah grant that we find him!" "Amen, and amen," responded the Arab boys fervently. At break of day Simba woke his friends. He had not slept a wink, though he had lain down. With a heart that had palpitated violently at every sound, he had lain listening acutely to every noise that broke the silence. It might have been a light-footed antelope, or the rustling of a fan palm, or the fall of a branch, or the shuffling feet of a hyaena, yet each of these, as he heard it, had inspired a momentary hope that it was the footstep of the returning Kalulu. Simba was impatient to be off and to use his strong lungs; and when the sun was up, he was brusque in speech to Moto, when he said: "Come, man, art thou never going to stir? Let us be off. Which way wilt thou take, south or north?" "Oh, any road will do for me; do thou take the south, I will walk towards the north, and let each of us strike towards the east. We must be back by noon, for if Kalulu is not here by then, and neither of us have found him, then he is--" "What, Moto?" said Selim, now really alarmed. "Oh, do not say he is lost! We must find him. We cannot give him up. I will go along the Unyanyembe road as far as I can, and return here by noon." "Young master," said Simba, "don't go away from this camp, I beg of thee. To lose Kalulu is as much as I can bear; but if thou art lost too, then may all the bad things of this earth happen to me, I do not care how soon." "But, dear good Simba, it is now day. I cannot be lost, for I will not leave the road. Whilst thou and Moto go north and south, I will take the eastern road, and after going two hours on the road, I shall return along the road to the camp. Who knows what has happened to my brother Kalulu? He may be wounded, and I may find him waiting for us. He has done enough for me; I ought to risk something on my part for him. I shall go, Simba--there. Abdullah and Niani shall stay in the camp to watch." "Well, well, as thou wilt. Thou art master here, and wherever I be. Come, Moto, let us be off." "Now, Simba," said Selim, running up to him, "thou art angry with me. Seest thou not it is but my duty to search for him? Is it nothing, what Kalulu has done for me all these months? Be good, Simba, as thou hast always been to me. Let me go without feeling that thou art offended with me." "Nay, go, my young master, and Allah go with thee. Simba knows not much about Allah; but Simba, while he looks for Kalulu, will pray to him to be kind to thee, and look after thy safety. Come, Moto, let us go." "God be with thee, Simba, and with thee, Moto," cried Selim, as he turned to depart. "And with thee also," replied Simba and Moto, as they strode off in their several directions. Soon Abdullah and Niani, left alone in the camp, heard the shouts at intervals of each of their friends as they wandered off-- "Kalulu! O Kalu-lu! Ka-luuu-luu!" was the cry they heard repeated until the sounds were lost by distance. Selim strode on, uttering the name of his lost friend over and over. He made the thin forest ring with its liquid sounds until he fancied that every tree lent its aid to cry out the sweet name. "O Kalulu--Kalulu--Ka-luu-luu-u!" was uttered on the desolate plain among the dwarf ebony and blue gum. The thick forest beyond was reached, and here again the stunted woods re-echoed to the name of "Kalulu." There was no reply. There was not the slightest trace of any Kalulu in the grim solitude. The forest was as calm and silent as though no one had ever ventured within its gloom since it grew. He looked down on the road; the road was smooth and compact, though now and then he thought he saw traces of human toes; but there were so many of them, one person could never have made so many marks with the toes of his feet. Was it not the road on which caravans journeyed to Unyanyembe? After he had gone many miles through the forest, Selim began to retrace his steps towards the camp, but still shouting the beloved name of "Kalulu;" but there was no reply to it, and sorrow, alarm, and gloom settled down on his heart, and in this state he reached the camp, a little before noon, to wait the arrival of Simba and Moto. His friends soon returned, as unsuccessful as he, without having seen the slightest trace of him whom they now began to lament as a lost friend. The sorrows of Kalulu's friends were deep. Selim wept copious tears, and all his imagination could not lighten the gloom he felt over the fate of his friend and adopted brother, who had been so good to him; no fancy could alleviate for one instant the overwhelming misery that the unexplained absence of Kalulu now caused. Continually he asked himself what could have befallen him, but all in vain. He had gone away in the full vigour of his youth; his lithe, slender, but sinewy form seemed so indurated and so protected against all mischances by the clever head to plan, the muscular arm to execute, and the clean-shaped limbs and swift feet to run, that he appeared invulnerable. And he had gone away smiling, but since then there was no clue, and his imagination and fancy were paralysed. Selim turned to Moto, and asked: "Oh, if thou canst give me the slightest hope that I shall see Kalulu again, I will bless thee?" "I can't think of anything. A lion may have followed him and sprang on him, and carried him away bodily--though it is unlikely. A buffalo may have gored him, and left him dead. Savage men may have found him and made him a captive; though as this is a `polini' (a wilderness) I don't see how men could be here. Thou knowest what he has done already, how quick and cunning he was with his arm and feet. He was a true son of the forest; and if danger and death overtook him, it must have been very sudden." "What dost thou think, Simba?" asked Selim. "I can't think of anything, young master, except that he is not here, and we don't know what has become of the brave young chief without whose aid none of us would have been so far on our way home;" and the generous-hearted man wept aloud, and his weeping had a sad effect on all. "And shall we see--never more see Kalulu?" sobbed Abdullah; "never more see him who saved me from the jaws of the monster in the Liemba, who freed us from bondage, who was our friend and brother, who has been everything to us, the kindest, best, the noblest Pagan child that ever breathed?" "He who saved me from death in the forest, who made me his brother, and stood by me through many troubles--who on my account threatened Ferodia, and from that lost his kingdom--with whom I have roamed through plain and forest, and have talked so often with as a brother--the dearest and best brother I can ever have!" cried Selim. "Stay, young masters, do not give way to such tears. Kalulu may not be lost. He may return to the camp this afternoon. I am going out now to look for him again, and to see if I cannot get something for us to eat," cried Moto. "Meantime, hope; stranger things than his return have happened." The boys and Simba looked their gratitude, as, next to Kalulu, they knew that Moto was the best woodsman of the party. Moto strode off in the direction of the Unyanyembe road. At night he returned, bringing on his back a fat young antelope, and news which made all start. Said he, while he and Simba turned to prepare some of the meat: "I went along the same road that master Selim went this morning. I crossed a `mbuga' (small plain), and came to a thick forest. Soon after entering the wood I saw on the left-hand side of the road a yellow heap of earth which a wild boar had made above his burrow. I went up to it, and what do ye think I saw?--the marks of two feet of a boy. They were small and narrow, not broad and large, like a man's foot--Simba's or mine--would be. They must have been Kalulu's. He had jumped on that yellow mound, for the toes had sunk deeper in than the heels. I went on, where the leaves had been disturbed, but all marks were soon lost. However, I went further on in that direction, and in about half an hour I came to a camp, not fenced round, but where fires had been kindled. The ashes below the surface were slightly warm. If Kalulu is anywhere, I feel sure that Kalulu is with those people. But who are those people? Are they Waruga-ruga (bandits)? Are they Wanyamwezi? Are they natives? Are they Arabs? This is a `polini' (wilderness); there is no village near here. Where have those people gone to?" "Let us go on, then, and find out; let us follow this road until we come to some village where we can ask?" said Simba. "Yes, yes," said Selim, "let us go." "I am ready now," said Abdullah. "Wait, young master, and thou, Simba. Eat first as much as ye can, then we can go," said Moto, in the tone of one who knew what he was about. In an hour a full meal had been despatched, and about an hour before sunset they started towards Unyanyembe; but before they reached the camp which had excited Moto's attention it was dark, and prudence insisted on them stopping there. All kinds of suggestions were made as to Kalulu's fate, and they fondly called up, by retrospective glances at the past few months, all they knew concerning Kalulu, all he had done, his amiability, his kindness of heart, and the generous character of the young chief, until each sighed for morning. There was but little sleep that night, and the next morning they were early afoot on the road. The narrow path which they trod led to Unyanyembe, and had been tramped to hardness and compactness. It ran around bushes; sometimes it went straight ahead; then it made great curves like a lengthy brown serpent. There seemed no end to the road or to the forest. It was ever woods, woods, woods, in their front--woods to the right of them, woods to the left of them, woods behind them, and not a sign of cultivation or of population anywhere. Only trees, trees, trees. Trees of all kinds--the candelabra kolqual, the prickly cactus, spear-leafed aloes, thorn-bushes, gummy woods, silk-cotton trees, sycamores, mimosa, plane, or the silvery chenar, tamarinds, wild fruit-trees, but no fields or villages. Darkness coming on at fall of day, they sought a place to make their camp. Another day dawned, and again they were on the road; the forest thinned into park-land--the park-land gave place to a sterile bit of chalky-coloured plain--the plain was succeeded by a thin forest--the thin forest by a jungle--the jungle by a plain again, and still there was no sign of living man or of men. They seemed to be the only inhabitants living in the world. Yet the road still ran before them in serpentine curves and long, straight stretches. At night they rested again near a broad river. They were eking out their meat as much as they could, and at dawn they continued their march. At noon they saw fields of young corn, and beyond the yellow tops a village, and when they came to it they saw natives standing outside the gate. "Ho, my brothers, health to ye!" cried Moto. "Health, health to ye!" was the response. "What country is this?" "Manyara." "Manyara!" cried Moto, astonished. "Yes, and Ma-Manyara is king." "Why, then, Unyanyembe is not far from here?" "About nine days off." "Was not that the Gombe River we passed?" "Yes, if you came from Ukonongo along the road." "We did. We have been hunting, and have had a misfortune on the road. We are going to Unyanyembe. What news?" "Ah! Good news. Manwa Para is dead." "Dead, is he? Have ye seen a caravan lately going by here towards Unyanyembe?" "No--none for many days." "Health, health to ye, my friends!" "Health, health!" was the response. Our friends strode on until they got beyond the cultivation and were deep in the forest again, when Moto turned round and said: "Kalulu is lost!" "Lost! Oh, Moto! must we give him up for ever?" asked Selim. "I fear so. I thought that caravan belonged to Arabs. If they were Arabs they would have come this way, and those people at the gate would have seen them. But I think now that camp belonged to the Waruga-ruga (bandits). And where have they gone to? Are they from Ugala or Ukonongo? Were those people Wazavila or wild Wanyamwezi? They were not Arabs, or they would have come this way. We are too far away to go back, and we might hunt for Kalulu years and years among the tribes about here without finding him. The bandits kill all men as soon as they catch them, if they cannot make slaves of them. They are never seen. They are everywhere, but nowhere when ye desire to see them. No; Kalulu is lost, and unless we want to lose ourselves, we must go on to Unyanyembe." This was a sudden shock to the Arab boys and to Simba. They had nourished a lively hope that their friend might be found, but they were now sternly told that their friend was "lost." "Poor Kalulu!" said Selim. "He is not lost to me. I will build him up--from his feet to his head, with all his fine high courage, quick, generous temper, and his warm heart, in my memory, where he shall dwell as the noblest and best I have ever met. Until I die I shall remember him as the truest friend and kindest brother." "And so shall I, Selim," said Abdullah. "Thou and I shall often talk of him as one to whom there was no equal in worth. When we meet our mothers, we shall remember his name as one without whom they never would have seen us again, and our mothers shall bless him. His memory shall be to me like a plant nightly watered by the dew of heaven, never to die, and whenever I hear his name mentioned I will pray that I may be like him. For Kalulu's sake, all black people who call me master shall be well treated, and shall never be abused." As he said these words, little Abdullah wept copiously, as the worth of his friend rose so vividly before him. "And I make a vow," said Selim, "for my brother's sake, never to purchase a slave for my service while I live; and when I die my slaves shall all be free. No black man in my service shall have cause to regret that I met with Kalulu in Africa; but they shall rejoice, and know that their treatment is due to Kalulu alone, that they may sing his praises under my palms and mangoes." "Allah be with ye both!" cried Simba. "If all Arabs were like ye, the Arab name would become beloved throughout all the tribes of the Washensi." [Pagans.] "Ay, so it would," said Moto; "so it would; and the people of our race and colour would not be bought like sheep and goats, and driven with sticks to the market to be sold. A great wrong is done by the Arabs every day in this country, and it is no wonder that the tribes treat them badly when they can. Tifum treated Masters Selim and Abdullah cruelly, because he heard that they did the some to the black people. We, thou, and I, Simba, should not have been so good as we are had any other than Sheikh Amer bin Osman been our master." "I believe thee, Moto," replied Simba. "We would not be going back to Zanzibar either, if noble Amer's son was other than he is. Master Selim is the best Arab living. Prince Madjid's sons are worthless, compared to my young master. But let us go to Unyanyembe, before some evil overtakes Selim and Abdullah, and we have no hope of pleasure left to us more." Moto started at the suggestion of evil to his young master, and at once put his best foot forward, until they came to a plain, where he strove to obtain an additional supply of meat, and was so successful with his arrows, that he brought down a zebra. The march to Unyanyembe lasted fifteen days longer, owing to the lack of the cheery presence of Kalulu, and to the frequent stoppages they had to make to procure food, and to nourish their strength; but on the morning of the sixteenth day, the well-known features of the hills around the Arab settlements greeted the eyes of Moto and Simba, who had seen them before. To their left rose the table hill of Zimbili, at their base were the Arab houses of Maroro, and stretching nearer to them, was the fertile basin of Kwihara; and soon rose before them the Arab houses of Sayd bin Salim, Abdullah bin Sayd, Sheikh Nasib, and of the redoubtable Kisesa. But passing by these, and walking rapidly along a road which led through Kisiwani, and between two hills which separate Kwihara from the larger settlement of the Arabs, the great tembes of Tabora greeted them, each surrounded by plantains and pomegranate trees. Upon asking some of the people who were passing from Tabora to Kwihara-- and who stared at Selim and Abdullah as if they had never seen Arabs before--who lived at Tabora, they were given a long list of names, and among these was the name of Sultan bin Ali! "Where does he live?" asked Selim. "Yonder, by that big tree. The first tembe ye come to." Selim and Abdullah gave a shout of joy, in which they were joined by Moto, Simba, and Niani, and as they passed on, Selim proposed that they should break in upon the old man suddenly, who would no doubt be found on his verandah, chatting with half-a-dozen other Arabs. In a few minutes--minutes that were never counted, but which glided by swiftly--they found themselves pushing their way through crowds of well-dressed Zanzibar slaves, who looked upon the Arab boys with surprise, mingled with awe, but who made way for them immediately, but eyeing them as if they had never seen Arabs. Selim and Abdullah passed on, however, and came at last before the spacious tembe. They saw the white-bearded Sheikh, seated with his back to the wall, leaning on a pillow which was covered with gay print. On each side of him sat several other Arabs. All started up as they saw the strange Arab boys, undressed and naked, with the exception of ragged pieces of dirty cloth about their loins, walk up to them, and heard the unmistakable Arabic of Muscat, as the boys said: "Salaam Aleekum!" (Peace be to ye.) "Aleekum Salaam!" (and unto ye be peace), responded the startled Arabs, rising to their feet. "Are ye Arabs, children?" said the old Sultan bin Ali, gazing at them sternly. "We are children of the Arabs of Muscat," answered Selim, with a tremulous voice. "How is it, then, in the name of Allah," said the aged Sheikh, "that ye come in this guise, naked, into the presence of true believers?" "Our fathers are dead. They were rich merchants of Zanzibar. They were slain in battle, and we, their sons, were made slaves. After many months we have escaped--praised be Allah for his mercies!--and have sought ye, our kinsmen." "Slain in battle!" echoed the Sheikh. "Who are ye? In what battle were your fathers slain?" "This," said Selim, pointing to Abdullah, "is Abdullah, son of Sheikh Mohammed bin Mussoud; I am Selim, son of Amer, son of Osman; thou art Sultan, the son of Ali, my kinsman and friend." "Oh, blessed be the compassionate God! Praised be the Lord of all creatures--the most merciful, the King of the Judgment-day!" cried the aged Sultan, as he rushed to Selim and Abdullah, and brought them together, and embraced them both at once, and kissed their foreheads, and would not release them for a moment, but continued to pour his kisses on their faces, and endearing terms into their ears, while hot tears poured down his cheeks as he said, looking at them with a memory which carried him and them to that fatal day in Urori, "And thou art Selim, the son of noble Amor, my kinsman! and this is Abdullah, son of Mohammed! Ah, wondrous are the ways of God, and merciful is He to true believers! I see Amer and Mohammed in your eyes, children; how came I to forget that fatal day of Kwikuru? But enter, children. Enter, in the name of the Most High. Amer's kinsman cannot forget his duties to Amer's son!" But the other Arabs could not permit Sultan, son of Ali, to take the boys away without being permitted to embrace them, and while scalding tears fell down their cheeks, they cried out, "Blessed is the Most High, the merciful and compassionate God!" and poured their congratulations into the ears of the escaped captives. Before quite going in at the door of the tembe, Selim turned to Sheikh Sultan and said: "Sultan, son of Ali, let not the son of Amer be called ungrateful. Lo! here are my friends. Thou hast not thanked them for what they have done to us. This is Simba, and this is Moto! Dost thou not know them?" "Ah, who does not know Simba and Moto?" said the old man, as he rushed at them and gave them a warm embrace, and kissed, out of pure gratitude, those rugged and dusky men of Africa. "Enter, men, in the name of God. Command the kinsman of Amer, what ye will eat, and drink. But who is this little fellow--thy son, Simba?" "No, Sheikh Sultan; he is Niani, Master Amer's slave." "Is he the little fellow who used to play tricks upon Isa, son of Thani, Selim?" "The same." "Come, child, to an old man's arms!" said he, as he caught him up, and gave him a warm kiss. Simba, and Moto, and Niani found themselves embraced by the other Arabs in turn, and Sultan bin Ali's slaves, hearing who they were, came rushing up by the dozen to embrace their friends, whom they had given up as lost for ever, on that fearful day, when four hundred Arabs and their people met with such a sad fate. But Sultan bin Ali, seeing them thus engaged, turned to his slaves, and bade them prepare the best at once for food, and then ushered Selim and Abdullah to his own cosy, carpeted room, and, inviting them to rest a moment, hastened out again to an Arab of middle age, named Soud bin Sayd, who was seated on his verandah, and said to him: "Soud bin Sayd, thou hast two sons of the same age as these boys. Hasten, my friend, bring two dresses for these children--the best thou hast--name thy price for them, but bring them." "Do not name price. Sheikh, thou hast them. I will but mount thy riding-ass and be back before thou canst say, Bismillah!" and the good-hearted man hurried off as he said it. Then Sultan bin Ali called to his barber, and bade him bring his basin and razors directly to him, then joined the young. Arab boys, who had been weeping continually for joy, fast locked in each other's arms. The barber soon came, and Sultan told him to shave off the boys' hair, which was grown almost to their shoulders. Before the depilatory process was completed, Soud bin Sayd had returned with two complete dresses--shirts, handsome embroidered dishdashehs (robe), and embroidered skull-caps, two fine blue cloth damirs (jackets), wide-flowing linen drawers, and slippers. Then, excusing the barber of the kind-hearted Soud, Sultan ushered the boys into the lavatory with their new dresses, where there was abundance of water, soap, and towels for them; and after telling them, when dressed, to come out to him and his friends on the verandah, he closed the door on them, and joined the Arabs, who were still in a high state of excitement, consequent upon the unexpected appearance of the Arab boys, and their marvellous escape from slavery. "Sultan, son of Ali," said Soud bin Sayd, "this is a great day." "Thou mayst well say so. How rejoiced the widows of Amer and Mohammed will be, and Leila, who is to be Selim's wife when he gets old enough! My friends, ye must join me in eating the noon-day meal with the poor children, that they may feel that they are among kinsmen and friends once more. Poor boys! what they must have suffered! But there is a great deal to be told yet; we shall hear their story presently. I am glad ye are here to welcome them with me." "It is wonderful!--wonderful! I feel impatient to hear all they have to say," said a swarthy-faced young Arab of about twenty-five. Within half-an-hour the two Arab boys, Selim and Abdullah, came from their room, dressed, and so changed they could barely be recognised as the wild-looking, long-haired boys who had so electrified the old man with their unpresentable appearance. Selim came first, Abdullah behind, the Arabs rising respectfully as they came near, the former advancing to Sheikh Sultan, with his handsome face all aglow at the change he felt in him, took hold of the old man's right hand, and raised it respectfully to his lips, and went on to the other Arabs to do the same to them, but they would not permit this, but saluted him on the cheek, as well as Abdullah. The Sultan bin Ali invited the boys to the seat of honour near him, and had pillows brought for them, so they would not feel chilled by contact with the wall, and invited Selim to tell his story, with which he at once complied, and gave them a succinct but brief account of all that happened to them from the battle-day to their appearance at Unyanyembe. He never had such an attentive audience before in his life. The Arabs were deeply interested in it, and often broke out into exclamations, which showed the two Arab boys that they were really amongst friends at last. Kalulu received great praise, and Sultan bin Ali expressed his fears that the boy was either murdered or carried into hopeless captivity and slavery. Presently food was brought in such quantities that made the hungry boys stare; one dish was expressly for Simba, Moto, and Niani, who were called from among their friends to partake of it. Water was poured over each person's right hand, and as Selim and Abdullah saw the great dish of snowy rice, and the dish of curried meat, they could not help uttering one great long sigh of satisfaction. Sultan assisted the boys to the best portions, placed more curry over their rice than he placed over any other, though he did not neglect his guests. Then hulwa (sweetmeats) and sweet cakes were brought, with honey, and the boys were continually urged to eat, until they at last declared that they had had enough. The next day the two Arab boys were taken to all the tembes of Tabora, Kwihara, and Maroro, where they were heartily received by everybody, and were invited to feasts, which followed one another in quick succession, until, at the end of a month, Selim and Abdullah had fed so well that they got quite rotund in figure, and appeared none the worse for their privations. After two months' stay at Unyanyembe, Selim and Abdullah were placed in charge of Soud bin Sayd, who was bound for the coast with a caravan consisting of two hundred slaves, loaded with ivory. Sultan bin Ali and a dozen other Arabs accompanied Selim and Abdullah as far as Kwikuru, three miles from Tabora, and after fervently blessing them, and wishing them all sorts of success, and a long-lived happiness, parted from them with saddened faces. Tura, on the frontier of Unyamwezi, was reached within five days, and crossing the wilderness of Tura they merged in New Ukimbu. Within three weeks afterwards they were travelling through arid Ugogo, which they passed safely in two weeks; then the friendly wilderness of the Bitter Water--Marenga M'kali--burst upon their view, and the next day, after a march of thirty miles, they were defiling by the cones of Usagara. Continuing their march, ten days more brought them to the Makata Plain, and on the eighth day after leaving Usagara they camped near Simbamwenni, or the "Lion Lord's" city, which both Selim and Abdullah remembered as the scene where Niani had a disagreeable incident with Isa. Poor Isa! he is dead. After a rest of two days at Simbamwenni, the caravan of Soud bin Sayd continued its march, and on the seventieth day from Unyanyembe the Arab boys, Selim and Abdullah, and their friends, Simba, Moto, and Niani, looked at the sea of Zanj, from the ridges behind Bagamoyo, and pointed out its ever-smiling azure face to one another with emotions too great for utterance. They feasted their eyes on it until they lost sight of it, as they plunged into the depths of the umbrageous groves and gardens of the sea-coast town of Bagamoyo, into the streets of which they presently emerged, to be welcomed, as wanderers generally are, with glad cries, embraces, smiling countenances, and hearty claspings of the hand. The next day Soud bin Sayd embarked his caravan in two Arab ships, and accompanied by the young Arabs and their friends he had the anchor hoisted, and the lateen sails sheeted home, and the ships began to move, as they felt the influence of the continental breeze, towards Zanzibar, across the strait which separates Zanzibar from the mainland. "Moving towards home!--glorious thought!" cried the enraptured Selim, as he turned towards his friend Abdullah, and fell on his neck overpowered by his feelings. "Home!" said Abdullah, "at last! We have been frequently tried, Selim, but we have been taught good lessons. Thanks be to Allah! He has been but trying us, to make us better and purer, and I mean to profit by what I have learned. Wilt thou, Selim?" "With the help of God, I will," he replied. "Dost thou know what chapter of the Kuran fits our case better than any other, Selim?" asked Abdullah. "Which?" "That entitled the Brightness, wherein the Prophet, blessed be his name! says: `_By the sun in his meridian splendour, by the shades of night, thy Lord hath not forsaken thee, neither doth He hate thee. Did He not find thee an orphan, and did He not take care of thee? And did He not find thee wandering in error, and hath He not guided thee into the truth? And did He not find thee needy, and hath He not enriched thee? Wherefore oppress not the orphan, nor repulse the beggar, but declare the goodness of thy Lord_.'" "Beautiful!" said Selim; "oppress not the orphan may mean oppress not the slave. He found us fatherless, and He took care of us. He found us needy, ailing, perishing in the wilderness, and He hath enriched us. Praised be God, the one God, the eternal God, He begetteth not, neither is He begotten; and there is not any one like Him." "Amen! and Amen!" responded Abdullah. "There is only one God, who is God, and Mohammed is His Prophet." "Amen! and Amen!" exclaimed Simba and Moto, who were as powerfully affected by their present and coming happiness as were either Selim or Abdullah. The shores of Zanzibar at last were seen to rise from the sea, like an emerald set in the centre of a circular sapphire, and the lovely isle was hailed by vociferous shouts by the wanderers, while their hearts beat faster and faster. They neared the shore steadily, and each point became an object of interest, and every well-remembered house received due attention. Finally, the ships rode in the harbour, and Selim, and Abdullah, and their friends, bidding a kindly farewell to Soud bin Sayd, after inviting him to come and see them, got into a boat called by the kind Arab, and were rowed ashore. As they stand at last on the island where both of these boys were born, on the threshold of their own homes, how much money would, we wonder, induce them to return to Africa without ever having seen their homes? Judging from their faces, we should think the world would not be sufficient, not even to induce them to return to Bagamoyo. What bright, joyous faces they wore! What flashing eyes! Men turned round in the streets to look at them, and talked to their companions, with smiles, about their looks. They saw several whom they knew, but they were too impatient, so near home, to stop to talk to any one, and they paced determinedly towards home; they passed the Arab, the Hindoo, the Negro quarter; crossed the bridge, and were among the gardens of the rich Arabs. Once outside the city, the capital of the island, they broke into a run; but as they drew near their homes they sobered down, became exceedingly agitated, and pale in the face. Abdullah suddenly shouted, "There, Selim, is my home! As thou hast to pass it, come with me." Selim consented, and accompanied his friend to the door, gave him one last embrace, bade him come round and see him soon; and then bounded off towards his own stately mansion, accompanied by Simba, Moto, and Niani. He saw the mangoe trees, the orange-groves, the cinnamon and the slender clove trees. Soon he saw the house itself, looming large and white between the trees; he saw the latticed windows, which he had often pictured to himself in the depths of the African wilderness; he saw the cupola of the Arab temple, which his father, Amer, had erected; he saw the walls of the courtyard; he cast one glance at the blue sea, and the spot consecrated by happy associations, where his father and kinsmen had often sat, gazing upon the sea; and then burst through the door of the courtyard, dashed breathlessly across it, and through the great carved door of the mansion, up the stairs, and into the harem, where he saw a woman seated on the divan, near the lattice, looking out. One penetrating glance assured him that she was Amina, his mother! She looked up and saw her son, Selim! returned to her heart and love! from Negro-land. Let us drop a kindly veil over the solemn and affecting meeting of mother and son, feeling assured that the joy of both was indescribable; that they interchanged the most endearing phrases; that they embraced each other as loving mother and loving son, long parted, would; that while he sat by her side he poured into her ears the sad tale of woe, bereavement, suffering, privation, difficulty, disappointment; the account of the marvellous adventures, hair-breadth escapes; of true friendships formed; the sacrifice, the courage, and the constancy of one whom he could never forget, Kalulu; and that his mother gave him an account of all that she had endured for the last two years; how his uncle had attempted to manage the estate himself, but she would not permit him, knowing his character; how everything had prospered during his absence; how rich he was; and how, with Leila's portion, which Khamis, her father, had given her, he might consider himself one of the richest men on Zanzibar Island. But she begged of him not to think of marrying yet, as he was not yet eighteen--a mere boy--to which Selim gave his promise. What wonderful things they had to tell each other! things which do not concern the world to know, but concerned both mother and son; which they appreciated, and enjoyed, and could repeat, and laugh merrily over together, without caring one jot what the world outside thought. On the third day after his arrival at Zanzibar Selim, accompanied by his factor, a smart, shrewd, clever, honest Hindoo Mahometan, by Simba, Moto, and Niani, went towards the city to purchase clothes for his faithful servants and their families. On the way he turned to Abdullah's home and called out to him to ask if he would like to go with him. Abdullah was only too happy, and forthwith appeared outside, dressed in the very height of Arab fashion, and as gay as could be. Arriving within the city, the factor drew for Selim's use the sum of two hundred dollars, and then, before making any purchases, Selim called upon the sons of the Zanzibar Sultan, his old playmates, who warmly greeted him, and who detained him to hear his story about his sufferings and escape from slavery, all of which the factor had already known from Selim and his mother. Several other friends living in the neighbourhood of the Sultan's palace, were called upon, all of whom expressed the greatest surprise and pleasure at seeing him. Selim, accompanied by his friends, was about crossing to Shangani Point, when they suddenly came upon the slave-market, crowded with the miserable beings about to be offered to the highest bidders. The buyers were there in considerable numbers, stout, portly Arabs, and well-to-do half-castes, besides Mohammedans from India, who bought for other people, all of whom were examining critically the subjects to be sold. These "subjects" were of all ages, and of both sexes, almost entirely nude. Hardly one of them had a healthy look, mostly all appeared half-starved and sick. There had lately been several importations from Kilwa, Mombasah, Whinde, Saadani, and Bagamoyo, which had eluded the searching eyes of the British cruisers and the agents of the British consulate. But here they were almost under the windows of the house over which the flag of England waved, examples of human suffering, subjects of human brutality; the most hapless-looking beings, the most woe-begone "human cattle" that the sun had ever shone upon. Selim was about departing, disgusted with the brutal scene, when, casting a last look at the auctioneer, he saw the face of the slave whom he was about to sell. With a frenzied look and pale face he said to the factor, to Abdullah, and his other friends: "Come this way--come this way--quick, for Allah's sake," drawing the factor away after him until he was hidden from the auctioneer's gaze behind a group of sightseers. "What is the matter, Selim?" asked Abdullah. "Art thou sick?" "Sick! No; but listen all of ye. Do ye see yon slave about to be sold now?" "Yes," answered all. "Then that slave, as sure as Allah is in heaven, is my adopted brother Kalulu!" "Kalulu!" exclaimed the startled friends. "Yes, Kalulu!" "Wallahi, he is!" exclaimed Moto in an excited tone. "There is not another here present who can hold his head like that, be he Arab or African. He is the King of the Watuta! I swear it;" and as he said that he was about to rush off, followed by Simba, when Selim shouted, "For Allah's sake, don't stir!" "Why? He is not a slave," shouted Simba. "He has been stolen by that Arab caravan, which travelled by night, because the chiefs feared the day, bike thieves. Moto, thou wert right. I see it all now. Wallahi! but I will break the back of the thief, even if the Sultan of Zanzibar cuts my head off. Let me go, Selim!" "Silence, Simba," said the factor. "Thou wilt draw attention to the young master. I see what Selim wants. He wants me to go and buy him. Ah, ha! Africa has taught thee cunning, Selim!" "Yes, go," said Selim. "Offer anything; but don't let him be bought by anybody else. Give a thousand dollars for him, but bring him to me. We will wait thee here." "Fear not; but there is one thing thou hast not observed, Selim. I know I shall get him cheap. Dost thou not see that he is handcuffed? He is dangerous. Simba, be thou ready. Watch me nod my head, do not stir until I do so, then go to him and catch him. When I have paid the money he becomes Master Selim's slave. And thou, Selim, keep guard over this big fellow, or he will ruin the game I am going to play. Abdullah, Moto, do ye hear?" asked the factor. "We do; we understand," they answered. From their position they could observe everything without being seen. They saw the factor make his way to the front among the buyers. They heard the auctioneer, a sturdy, strong-voiced fellow, conspicuous from an enormous turban he wore round his head, bellow out: "Ho, Arabs, children of Zanzibar, and ye rich men, look up! Here is a priceless slave from Ututa. He calls himself King of Ututa" (a laugh from a bystander). "Kings command high prices." ("They make very bad slaves!" shouted Selim's factor.) "I am going to run this fellow high." ("No you won't;" Selim's factor.) "Look at him well. Watch his eyes; they are living fire. See the pose of his head. Observe his limbs; clean and well-shaped as a Nedjed mare's. Look at his chest; there's wind, there's hard work there." ("Very little work, plenty of wind to run;" Selim's factor.) "Just take a glance at his teeth; there,--open boy. No, dog! take that" (buffeting him). "Look at his hair; it hangs below the shoulders. Believe me, no slave was ever offered in this market to equal him. Offer; an offer, Arabs. Rich men, who require a good slave, make an offer for the best slave ever brought to Zanzibar." "Say, auctioneer, why is he handcuffed? did he try to murder his master? And why is the chain about his neck? Has he tried to run away?" asked Selim's factor. "Silence!" thundered the auctioneer. "An offer is what I want." "Two dollars!" shouted the factor, smiling sardonically. "Two dollars!! Only two dollars! for this unequalled slave. Man, look at him, and offer a hundred." "Five dollars!" shouted a bystander. "Five dollars! Five, five, five, five, five." "Six!" shouted the factor. "Six dollars! Six, six." "Ten dollars!" from a bystander. "Twenty dollars!" shouted the factor. "Twenty dollars. Come, bid up. Only twenty, twenty, twenty, twenty. Who goes beyond twenty?" "Twenty-five!" shouted the bystander. "Thirty dollars! He is worth more, but he is a devil. I can see that by his eye." "Thirty, thirty, thirty, thirty. Bid up. Only thirty! He is worth more. Bid up, Arabs. Thirty, thirty, thirty. Going,--going,--going,-- gone!" and the auctioneer nodded to the factor. The factor walked up, counted thirty dollars in American gold to the auctioneer, who laughed as he put the money in his pouch, and said: "My friend, this slave will murder thee the first time he catches thee asleep. Be wary of him; I should hate to hear some morning that thy throat is cut from ear to ear." ear. "Fear not for me, my friend. I have seen worse than he is tamed. Release his neck from the chain. Let go his hands." "Art thou mad?" asked the auctioneer. "Not at all. Let him go free," replied the factor. The neck-chain slipped off, and the hands were about to be freed, when the factor nodded to Simba, who sprang through the bystanders like a very lion, and while the hands were being freed, uttered, with his deep voice, the magic name-- "Kalulu!" The slave, still on the stand, turned round at the sound of the word. He saw the unmistakable face of Simba, and behind him, advancing slowly, two Arab boys, well-dressed, whom he did not know, but he recognised Moto and Niani. He reeled as one struck, but the great strong arms of Simba were round him; they lifted him up from the stand, carried him on the run towards the two Arab boys, and he was placed face to face with the tallest of them. "See, Kalulu, dost thou not know Selim?" asked Simba. The astonished boy looked at the face one moment. He saw him advance-- with his old smile towards him, and he sprang at him, and thus it was how the two friends had met after so many months. Abdullah, Simba, Moto, Niani, were embraced one after another, to the astonishment of the bystanders, who could not conceive how such Arab boys could degrade themselves so low as to hug a slave that a few minutes ago was in chains, and sold for the cheap sum of thirty dollars! Are not all bystanders in all parts of the world always wondering why such and such things happen? Is not the world for ever in a maze, and deeming many things of like nature to be incomprehensible? When was the world not shocked at an exhibition of nature? But our friends paid no heed to the surprise of the bystanders or to their remarks; they left the marketplace arm in arm, and proceeded towards a shop where "long clothes" were sold. An Arab shirt thrown over him, and a piece of white cloth folded around his head, made a wonderful change in Kalulu. Then Selim gave orders to the factor to purchase the best clothes he could get for Kalulu, blue cloth jacket, embroidered cap, and embroidered shirt, linen drawers, crimson fez with long blue tassel, and slippers, besides a Muscat shash and Arab dagger, over and above what he had intended to purchase for him, to which the factor promised to pay implicit attention. Selim turned to Kalulu and said: "In two or three days, Kalulu, thou wilt be as well-dressed as any son of an Arab in Zanzibar; but now I must show thee my mother and my home. When we are outside the city thou canst tell us thy story." In half an hour they were in the country; and Kalulu, when requested to begin, said: "I went out to look for game, and coming to the forest I saw smoke, and men wearing Arab clothes. I went to their camp when I found they were Arabs, not thinking they could act as they did. They spoke me fair at first; but while I was seated alongside of the chief his men sprang on me, and they chained me. I struggled hard at first, but they hurt me and abused me as if they meant to kill me. We travelled that night through the forest, and every night until we came to Unyanyembe, where we were kept in a house in a dark room. After a few days we began another journey, which ended at this sea. On coming to the island the chief put me to work in the field; but they could not get me to work. They beat and beat me every day; but I would not work, and the chief, finding he could do nothing with me, sent me with many more to be sold. That is the story." "Dost thou know that thou art my slave now, Kalulu? But when I was a slave of thine thou didst set me free and protect me by making me thy brother. I do the same to thee now. Thou art free, and I shall be a brother to thee, and my mother shall be thy mother," said Selim. "And mine too, Kalulu," said Abdullah; "Selim shall not keep thee all to himself. My mother wants to see thee. And here we are at my mother's house, to which I ask thee to come now." In a few moments they were at the door, and Abdullah invited Selim and Kalulu to walk in. They were led up a flight of stairs, and presently stood in an ante-chamber. Leaving their slippers outside, Abdullah ushered his two friends into a spacious saloon, close to the walls of which ran a luxurious divan, covered with soft silken carpeting, the like of which Kalulu had never dreamed of before; the floor was also covered with Persian carpets of great thickness. "Ah, Kalulu, my house is not so grand as Selim's; but it is better than most Arab houses," said Abdullah. "Stay here a moment until I go to prepare my mother." Abdullah was not gone long before he returned with his mother, whose face was veiled by a thin muslin gauze, but who, on seeing that the stranger was but a boy, threw off the veil and advanced towards him, and began to thank him in the sweetest tones he ever heard. She also told him to make the house his home whenever he liked, or whenever Selim could spare him, and after saying all that was required of her to say by her son, she vanished into her own room. After his mother had gone, Abdullah said: "Thou seest, Kalulu, that our women have customs different from thine. Wert thou a man, thou shouldst never have seen her face? Yet thou art such a big boy now, my mother is even afraid of thee. However, whatever my mother failed to tell thee, her son says. Thou art welcome: come early or late, thou must consider all my mother or I have at thy service. These are the words of my mother and of myself." "Thou hast done with Kalulu for the present, Abdullah. Come thou with us to my mother," said Selim. "Nay, Selim; my brother Kalulu must eat in my house, and then we shall go together with thee." "Our noon-meal is ready. Come thou and eat with us. I want Kalulu to see my mother. Come, Abdullah, we can return and take the evening meal with thee." Seeing Selim was urgent, and really anxious, Abdullah, being but a boy, consented, though it was against Arab custom; but he was consoled by the reflection that the principal meal was to be eaten with him; and bidding Selim stay a moment, he went back to his mother, and informed her that they should have guests for the evening meal; then returning, he sallied out with Selim and Kalulu. Simba, Moto, and Niani were at the door waiting for them, and together they proceeded to Selim's house. If Kalulu was impressed with the grandeur of Abdullah's house, he was much more so with the splendid appearance of Selim's. The shining white marble of the courtyard, the spaciousness, cleanliness, and order that prevailed; the well-dressed slaves, that came forward assiduous to please; the broad stairs, the carved portals, and the roomy entrance-hall, took away the young chief's breath almost with surprise. He was speechless with astonishment, and he mentally compared his own miserable clay-floored hut with this grandeur. He looked for Simba and Moto, but found they were stopping at the door; they were excluded from above, whither he was ascending, and Kalulu reflected upon this. The ante-chamber was passed, at the door of which Selim and Abdullah left their slippers, and they advanced into a grand and spacious saloon, larger than the one at Abdullah's house, more superbly furnished, with numbers of curious things which Sheikh Amer had collected through his Bombay agent. Selim turned round to Kalulu and asked: "How does the young King of Ututa like his brother Selim's house?" "Thou art greater than I, my brother. I have had thousands of warriors who would have done my slightest bidding; but I am the first King of Ututa who ever saw a house like this. I have had plenty of ivory, and cows, and sheep, and goats that could not be counted for number, but I never had a house like this." "By-and-by, Kalulu, when we are all men and strong, we shall take thee back to Ututa and see thee righted in thy own; thou having seen these things, thou wilt be able to do likewise. But thou and I have much to learn yet. We are boys, and we cannot fight Ferodia; but until we are men, rest with Abdullah and me at Zanzibar; make my house thy own. Stay here; I go to Call my mother, Amina, whom thou must like." "I shall like everything that thou dost like, Selim," answered Kalulu, seating himself on the divan as he spoke. Selim knocked at the door of his mother's apartments, who came to the door. Her son respectfully saluted his mother's right hand, and led her into the room; but when she saw a stranger and a black man, she drew back, and said: "Who is this, my son; and what dost thou mean by bringing a slave into a place where none but Arabs are admitted? And I have left my veil behind. Fie, boy!" "Nay, dear mother, this is only a boy; and he is not a slave, he is my brother," answered Selim, smiling, as he beckoned Kalulu to advance, who looked somewhat awed at the transcendent beauty of Selim's mother. "Thy brother! How, hast thou two mothers? My lord, Amer, never told me he had other wives than those who live in this house. What folly is this, Selim, my son? Who is this boy?" "Dost thou not know, mother? Canst thou not guess? Behold my brother, my Kalulu!" "Kalulu!" echoed his mother, and immediately she recovered her smiles, and walking up to him, she poured into Kalulu's ears all a fond mother could say to one whom she considered as her dear son's saviour and deliverer, and she ended with saying: "This house is at thy service. Command anything thou dost wish, and thou shalt be obeyed. I also, who am Selim's mother--who for so long mourned him as dead--know how to be grateful. Simba, Moto, and little Niani, who shared his troubles with him, have already been rewarded with houses and gardens, and Selim is continually sounding their praises to me. But to thee, knowing as I do that thou hast suffered much, I shall be as a mother; and thou shalt be My Kalulu." The End. 
38389	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 38389-h.htm or 38389-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38389/38389-h/38389-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38389/38389-h.zip) STANLEY'S ADVENTURES IN THE WILDS OF AFRICA: A Graphic Account of the Several Expeditions of Henry M. Stanley into the Heart of the Dark Continent. Covering Stanley's Expedition to Find Livingstone, His Crossing the Continent and Exploration of the Congo from Its Headwaters to the Ocean, His Establishment of the Congo Free State, and His Last Great Achievement--the Discovery and Deliverance of Emin Pasha. by HON. J. T. HEADLEY, Author of "_Napoleon and his Marshals_," "_Washington and his Generals_," "_Sherman and his Campaigns_," "_Farragut and our Naval Commanders_," "_Sacred Mountains_," "_Life of General Grants_," _etc._ and WILLIS FLETCHER JOHNSON, Author of "_The Saga of the Mistletoe_," "_Landmarks_," "_Facts and Fancies of Evolution_," "_The Age of Commonplace_," "_The Johnstown Flood_," _etc._ Illustrated. Edgewood Publishing Co. 1890. Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1890, By Walter J. Brooks, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D.C. [Illustration: HENRY M. STANLEY.] STANLEY'S WONDERFUL ADVENTURES IN "THE DARK CONTINENT." PREFACE. For centuries Africa has been "the dark continent" of our globe. The sea-washed edges of this immense tract have been known time immemorial. Egypt, at its northeastern corner, is the oldest of the governments of the earth; while the nations skirting the Red and the Mediterranean seas were actors in the earliest recorded history. But Africa as a whole has been an unknown land. That it was a fertile land, was demonstrated by the treasures brought from its depths by those mighty rivers, the Nile, the Niger and the Congo. That it was populous, was proven by the fact that its native tribes had furnished to the world without, forty millions of slaves in the period of two centuries. Both the slave-hunter and the slave told wondrous tales of the inner depths of the land, but these were mere hints as to the actual facts of the case. Africa remained a mystery and a riddle, that seemingly were never to be penetrated. For many years explorations in Africa were made simply to gratify curiosity, or from a desire to penetrate beyond lines reached by other men. All the results desired or expected were amusement or fame. But in later years African explorations have assumed an entirely different aspect. From Livingstone, who first began to open up "the dark continent," to Cameron and Stanley who pierced its very heart, all explorations have tended to one great end--the civilization and Christianization of the vast population that inhabits it. No matter what the ruling motive may have been in each case, whether, as in Livingstone, to introduce Christianity; or, in Baker, to put a stop to the slave trade; or, in Stanley, to unlock the mystery of ages, still the tendency has been the same: to bring Africa into the family of continents instead of being the earth's "pariah;" to throw light on this black spot of our planet, and make those who inhabit it practically and morally, what they are really, a portion of the human race. Mungo Park, Denham and Clapperton made explorations of considerable value early in the present century, but Livingstone with thirty years of toil in Africa was the real pioneer of successful work. In 1840, at the age of twenty-five, he embarked as a missionary to South Africa, thus entering the land where he lived and died, and which he never left save on two brief visits to his native land. After Livingstone's last return to Africa, circumstantial reports of his death were received. These were subsequently contradicted and other reports of death came. He wrote but few letters and some of these failed to reach their destination; his fate, therefore, remained in painful uncertainty until Bennett sent Stanley to discover him, dead or alive. This commission led to the two expeditions of Stanley, the thrilling events of which are narrated in this volume. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. HENRY M. STANLEY. Stanley's birth-place--Early roving--Extensive travels--Correspondent in Abyssinia--The lost Dr. Livingstone--Bennett's confidence in Stanley--Stanley's marching orders--His interview with Bennett--Off to his work--En route for Africa--Stanley meets Livingstone--Stanley's extreme measures, 17 CHAPTER II. DESCRIPTION OF AFRICA. Inaccessibility of Africa--Extent of Africa--Products of the land, 42 CHAPTER III. STANLEY'S SEARCH FOR LIVINGSTONE. Preparations for the march--The start inland--Wretched surroundings--Death of the horses--Jungle travel--The belles of Kisemo--News of Livingstone--African fever, 49 CHAPTER IV. WILD EXPERIENCES. Slow marching--Irreparable losses--The sultana's judgment--Deliverance from difficulties--In a pitiable plight--New burdens--Incipient mutiny--Forgiveness--Murderous attempt--A man left behind, 68 CHAPTER V. TRIALS BY THE WAY. Down with fever--Strange tribes--A cowardly mob--The country described--What Africa may be--Tribes of Africa--Marks and weapons--African ornamentation--A nobler tribe--Warriors armed--Filthy homes--Social customs--Agriculture, 93 CHAPTER VI. ADVENTURES IN GREAT VARIETY. Chiefs of Tabna--Fighting with Mirambo--A Flying caravan-- Despondency--Triumph--Shaw left--The hunter's paradise--On the hunt--Crocodiles, 128 CHAPTER VII. THE END APPROACHES. Mutinous conduct--News of a white man--Hastening to Ujiji--A screaming woman--A narrow escape, 150 CHAPTER VIII. STANLEY MEETS LIVINGSTONE. Ujiji in sight--The village entered--The doctor at hand--The lost found--Opening his mail--Talking and eating--A long talk--Ambition satisfied, 161 CHAPTER IX. STANLEY'S HOMEWARD MARCH. Sweet converse--Livingstone's surprise--Homeward bound--Parting with Livingstone--Tribute to Livingstone--Passing the swamps--Again at Zanzibar, 180 CHAPTER X. STANLEY'S SECOND EXPEDITION. Journeying inland--Lost in the jungle--Lion soup--Plenty of food--Edward Pocoke's death--Letter of condolence--Burial of Pocoke--Magic doctor, 197 CHAPTER XI. PRESSING TOWARD THE INTERIOR. A hostile surprise--A battle--A massacre--Summary retribution--Confident amid perils--Immense table-lands--Geological history, 216 CHAPTER XII. EXPLORATION OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA. Getting to work--Journal of the explorations--Navigating the lake--A narrow escape--Review of the route, 231 CHAPTER XIII. EXPLORATION OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA. Source of the Nile--King Mtesa--Royally entertained--The needed missionary--Wild justice, 243 CHAPTER XIV. EXPLORATION OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA. A night surprise--Narrow escape--In a storm--A welcome sight--A treacherous trick--A critical moment--Terrible recompense--A night tempest--Again in the storm, 256 CHAPTER XV. AN INTERVAL OF REST. Proposals to abandon camp--Rest after toil--Stanley's day-dreams--Seeking canoes--The king's strategy--Treachery thwarted, 277 CHAPTER XVI. PREPARATIONS FOR FURTHER EXPLORATIONS. Organizing an attack--Terrible punishment--Completely subdued--New schemes--The Albert Nyanza--Military escort, 291 CHAPTER XVII. THE EXPEDITION TO ALBERT NYANZA. Snow-capped mountains--A strange race--Toward the Albert Nyanza--A miserable failure--The inglorious return--Mtesa's friendship--Lakes of Karagwe--Sources of the Nile--Exploring the Kagera--An African village--Bead currency, 304 CHAPTER XVIII. EXPLORATIONS OF LAKE TANGANIKA. Cameron's outlet--A wholesale massacre--Where is the outlet?--Difficulties in the way--Curious customs, 331 CHAPTER XIX. NYANGWE AND ITS HISTORY. A beautiful region--The slave trade--Slave pens--Hunting the slaves--How to stop it, 345 CHAPTER XX. ORGANIZING A NEW EXPEDITION. Stanley's new purposes--Napoleonic spirit--An escort secured--African markets--Tipo-Tipo's army, 356 CHAPTER XXI. THROUGH THE FORESTS. The start--Discouraging progress--Wonders of the forest--Soko skulls, 368 CHAPTER XXII. FLOATING DOWN THE CONGO. Terrible suspense--Drifting downward--A stratagem--Departure of Tipo-Tipo--A mournful scene, 379 CHAPTER XXIII. DESCENT OF THE CONGO. Beset by cannibals--Beautiful scenery--Zaidi in peril--Stanley as a strategist--Seeking man-meat--Battling onward--Portuguese muskets--Chased again--Famine at hand--Hospitable entertainment--"Stanley pool"--Brotherly proceedings, 390 CHAPTER XXIV. AMONG THE CATARACTS. Wild surroundings--Terrible rapids--Soudi's marvelous escape--Narrow escape of Stanley--Cluster of cataracts--Canoes on mountain tops, 419 CHAPTER XXV. EXPERIENCES BY THE WAY. Canoe building--A terrific pass--Trial for theft--Touching scene--Unexpected dilemma--A merry evening, 435 CHAPTER XXVI. DEATH OF FRANK POCOKE. Pocoke's value to Stanley--Stanley in peril--Drowning of Pocoke--Stanley in grief--Pocoke's character, 448 CHAPTER XXVII. THE COMPLETED WORK. Incipient mutiny--In despair--A perilous moment--Brightening prospects--Captured for stealing--Word to the outside world--A starving company--Greeted by friends--Approaching Zanzibar--Home again--Stanley's crowning honor, 460 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE FRUITS OF VICTORY. Stanley called to Brussels--A conference concerning the Congo region--A company organized--At the mouth of the Congo--Up the river--Locating stations--Making treaties--Difficulties surmounted--Stanley Pool reached, 484 CHAPTER XXIX. THE CONGO FREE STATE. Treaty concerning the new realm--Area of the Congo basin--Peculiarities of the river--Its volume--Scenery on the Congo--Climate--Commercial advantages--Stanley's fame, 494 CHAPTER XXX. EMIN, THE LAST OF THE SOUDAN HEROES. History of Emin Pasha--In Egyptian service--Efficient work--Lost to the world--Betrayal of Gordon--Popular demand for Emin's rescue--The "Emin Relief Committee," 500 CHAPTER XXXI. STANLEY TO THE RESCUE. Stanley in America--Recalled to Europe--Back to Africa--His escort--Disposition of his forces--Into the wilderness--Distressing reports--Forged dispatches--Disaster elsewhere--Good news from Stanley, 505 CHAPTER XXXII. STANLEY AND EMIN. Emin's forces--His hesitation--His delays--Discussions on the subject--Hopes of success, 511 CHAPTER XXXIII. IN THE HEART OF AFRICA. Stanley heard from--Hidden again--Further news--A barrier of silence--Summary of incidents--Advance contested--Unholy regions--Providence or luck--Seriously ill--Promises kept--Surroundings changed--Sublime scenery--Officers in doubt--Further news--Emin and his people arrive, 518 CHAPTER XXXIV. FORWARD MARCH. The grand muster--Moving--In camp--Great expectations--Route of the advance--Supplies forwarded--Arrival at Mpwapwa--Early arrival of the expedition--Losses by the way--Much fighting--Dangers everywhere, 526 CHAPTER XXXV. ON THE COAST AT LAST. Met by journalists--Emin described--Royal entertainments--Emin's accident--Congratulations--Return messages--Rejoicings everywhere, 534 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE HENRY M. STANLEY (Frontispiece). Zanzibar, 51 Ceremonies of the Queen's Court, 79 Shooting Hippopotami near Lake Ugenlo, 83 Execution for Witchcraft, 111 African Warriors and Warfare, 117 Waste of Human Life, 125 A Council of War, 131 Spring-bok Browsing, 145 Stanley Meeting Livingstone, 169 Village on Tanganika Lake, 185 Burial of Edward Pocoke, 211 Reception of Mtesa's Body-guard, 247 A Treacherous Assault, 265 Stanley's Dash Across Unyoro, 305 Hot Springs of Mtagata, 323 Setting out to Cross Lake Tanganika, 339 Scene in Camp at Nyangwe, 359 Natives Hunting Sokos, 375 Fighting our Way Around, 395 Boat Fight with the Savages, 409 Death of Kalulu, 425 Drowning of Frank Pocoke, 455 Shooting the Rapids, 467 Emin Pasha, 515 CHAPTER I. HENRY M. STANLEY. Stanley is one of those characters which forcibly illustrate the effect of republican institutions in developing strong men. Despotism cannot fetter thought--that is free everywhere--but it can and does restrain its outworking into practical action. Free institutions do not make great men, but they allow those endowed by nature with extraordinary gifts free scope for action. This fact never had, perhaps, a more striking illustration than in the French Revolution. The iron frame-work of despotism had rested so long over the heads of the people that it had become rusted in its place, and no individual force or strength could rend it asunder. But when the people, in their fury, shattered it into fragments, there was exhibited the marvelous effects of individual character. A lieutenant of artillery vaulted to the throne of France and made marshals and dukes and kings of plebeians. A plebeian himself, he took to his plebeian bed the daughter of the Cæsars. He took base-born men and pitted them against nobles of every degree, and the plebeians proved themselves the better men. In other words, he put men against titles, and the tiles went down before the men. Thus, no matter how despotic he became, he and his marshals and new-made kings were the most terrible democracy. The mighty changes that were then wrought show what results may be expected when the whole world shall be thus set free, and every man be allowed to strike his best and strongest blow. When the race is thus let loose on the planet we inhabit, we shall see the fulfillment of that prophecy, "a nation shall be born in a day." The same truth is apparent in our own country, though its exhibitions are not so sudden and startling. Indeed they could not be, because this freedom of action has no restraints to break through, and hence no violent effort is required. Every man grows and expands by degrees without let or hindrance. In a despotism, Webster would probably have taught school in a log school-house all his days, and the "mill-boy of the slashes" never would have made the forum of a nation ring with his eloquence, nor the "rail-splitter" have become the foremost man of his time, nor the "tanner-boy" the president of the republic. Republican institutions never made any of those men--they simply allowed them to make themselves. Stanley is among the latest and most extraordinary examples of this. It is folly to point to such men as he, as a stimulus to youthful ambition. No amount of study or effort can make such a boy or man as he was and is. The energy, daring, self-confidence, promptness and indomitable will were born in him, not acquired. The Latin proverb, _Poeta nascitur, non fit_, "the poet is born, not made," is not truer of the poet than of a character such as his. His peculiarities may be pointed out for the admiration of others, his good qualities may teach youth how perseverance, and determination, and work will elevate a man, whatever be his walk in life. One born with a combination of qualities like Stanley's, must have room given him or he will make room. He has such an abundance of energy and will-power that they must have scope for action. A despotism could not have repressed him. He would either have become a wanderer or adventurer in strange lands, or he would have headed a revolution and vaulted to power or to a scaffold, as others had done before him. But although Stanley developed his character under free institutions, he was not born under them, he being a native of Wales. He was born near Denbigh, in 1840. His father's name was Rowland. When three years old, he was sent to the poor-house at St. Asaph, to get an education. Here the poor, unpromising lad remained till he had finished such an education as this institution could furnish, and then he sought employment as a teacher, and for a year was employed as such at Mold, Flintshire. But the strong instincts of his nature then began to show themselves. He felt that a school-teacher's life, however honorable and useful, could not be his, and, therefore, with his scant earnings, he shipped as cabin-boy in a vessel bound for New Orleans. Having arrived in safety, he began to look about for employment. By what lucky chance it happened we do not know, but he fell into the hands of a merchant named Stanley, who became so attached to the frank, energetic, ambitious youth, that he finally adopted him and gave him his name. Thus the Welsh boy Rowland, became the American youth Stanley. Fortune had certainly smiled on him, and his future seemed secure. As the partner, and eventually heir of his benefactor, as he doubtless would become, fortune, ease and a luxurious life lay before him. But even here, so pleasantly situated and cared for, the same restless spirit that has since driven him over the world, exhibited itself, and he wandered off into the wilds of Arkansas, and in his log-cabin on the banks of the Wichita River, with the pine-trees moaning above him, he dwelt for a long time, among the strange, wild dreams of his imaginative and daring youth. His adopted father mourned him as dead, never expecting to behold him again. But the youth made his way to the Mississippi, and going on board a flat-boat, became the companion of the rough western characters to be found on these boats, and slowly floated down to New Orleans and was received by his overjoyed father as one risen from the dead. But just here, fortune, which seemed to have had him in her special care, took him another step forward by apparently deserting him. His adopted father suddenly died without making his will. His place and prospective heirship both disappeared together, and the curtain was let down between him and a pleasant, successful future. Doubtless that father intended to provide for his adopted son, but now all the property went to the natural legal heirs, and he was once more thrown upon the world. In the delirium of an African fever, tossing in his hammock, far from the haunts of civilization, there came back to him remembrances of his life at this point. We learn that impelled by his roving disposition he wandered away among the California miners, and at last among the Indians, and sat by their council fires. He seemed destined to see every phase of human life, to become acquainted with the roughest characters, to prepare him for the wildest of all men, the African savage. This kind of life also toughened and hardened the fibre of the youth, so that he settled down into the man with a constitution of iron, without which he could not have endured the trials he has since undergone, and still retain his health and physical powers unworn. At this time a new field opened before him. The civil war broke out, and being a Southern man, he enlisted in the Confederate army. This was a kind of service just adapted to his peculiar character, one in which a man with the courage, daring, energy, promptness and indomitable will that he possessed, was sure to win fame and promotion. But before he had time to exhibit these qualities, fate, that seemed against him to human eyes, again advanced him a step toward success by causing him to be taken prisoner by the Union troops. As a prisoner he was worthless, and the Union cause really having his sympathies, he proposed to enlist in the Northern army. Whether the military authorities were afraid of this sudden conversion or not daring to give too much freedom of action to one who showed by his whole bearing and language, that there was no undertaking too daring for him to attempt, we are not told, but they put him where he would probably have little chance to show what stuff he was made of, and he was placed on the iron-clad ship Ticonderoga. It is said, he was released as prisoner and volunteered to enlist in the navy. Be that as it may, though totally unfit for service of any kind on board of a man-of-war, he soon became acting ensign. At the close of the war he looked about for some field of active service, and what little war he had seen seemed to fit his peculiar character, and hearing that the Cretans were about to attempt to throw off the Turkish yoke, he resolved to join them. He proceeded thither with two other Americans, after having first made an engagement with the New York _Herald_, as its correspondent. Disgusted, it is said, with the insurgent leaders, he abandoned his purpose, and having a sort of roving commission from Mr. Bennett, he determined to travel in the East. But he and his fellow-travelers were attacked by Turkish brigands, and robbed of all their money and clothing. They laid their complaint before Mr. Morris, then our minister at Constantinople, who in turn laid it before the Turkish government, and at the same time advanced them funds to supply their wants. After various journeyings Stanley returned to England. Here a strong desire seized him to visit the place of his nativity in Wales, the house where he was born, and the humble dwelling where he received the first rudiments of his education at St. Asaph. One can imagine the feelings with which this bronzed young man, who had traveled so far and wide, entered the quiet valley from which he had departed so long ago to seek his fortune. It speaks well for his heart, that his sympathies turned at once toward the poor-house of which he had been an inmate in his childhood. Remembering that the greatest boon that could have been conferred at that time on him would have been a good, generous dinner, he resolved to give those poor children one. The daring young adventurer, in the presence of those simple, wonderstruck children, would have made a noble subject for a picture. We venture to say that Mr. Stanley enjoyed that unobtrusive meal in that quiet Welsh valley more than he has ever enjoyed a banquet with nobles and princes; and as the shadows of life lengthen he will look back on it with more real pleasure. He addressed the little ones of the Institution, giving them a familiar talk, telling them that he was once one of that household, accompanying his words with good advice, saying for their encouragement, and to stimulate them to noble endeavors, that all he had been in the past and all he hoped to be in the future, he attributed to the education which was begun in that poor-house. This was a real episode in his eventful life, and, though it doubtless soon passed away in the more stirring scenes on which he entered, yet the remembrance of it still lingers around that quiet, retired Welsh valley, and, to-day, the name of Stanley is a household word there, and is the pride and glory of its simple inhabitants. And as time goes on and silvers those dark hairs, and the "almond-tree flourishes" and "desire fails because man goeth to his long home," he, too, will remember it as a green oasis he once longed to see and found in the arid desert. In 1867, when he was twenty-seven years of age, he returned to the United States and, in the next year, accompanied the English army in its campaign against Theodore, king of Abyssinia, which was set on foot to revenge the wrongs this tyrant had committed against the subjects and representatives of the British government. Stanley went as correspondent of the New York _Herald_, and gave a vivid and clear account of the painful march and skirmishes up to the last great battle in the king's stronghold, where, with a gallant dash, the fortress was taken, the king killed and the war ended. With that promptness in acting, which is one of his chief characteristics, he at once dispatched the news of the victory and the ending of the campaign to London, outstripping the government dispatches sent by the commander-in-chief, so that one morning the readers of the London newspapers knew that of which the government was ignorant. This, of course, was a genuine surprise. A young American newspaper correspondent, without a vessel at his command, had, nevertheless, by his enterprise, beaten the government messenger, and steady old conservative England was disgusted to find its time-honored custom reversed, which was that the government should first give notice of successes to the public, leaving to newspaper correspondents to fill up the minor details. But an enterprising young American had furnished the important news, leaving the British government the secondary duty of supplying these details. Notwithstanding the admiration of the enterprise that had accomplished this great feat, there was a ludicrous aspect to the affair, in the position in which it placed official personages, that raised a quiet laugh on both continents. Stanley's letters contain the best history of that expedition that has been written. This was still another onward step in the great work before him, of which he, as yet had no intimation. The next year, 1868, he returned to the United States, and in the following year was sent by the _Herald_ into Spain, to follow the fortunes of the civil war there, as correspondent. Like everything else that he undertook, he performed his duties more than faithfully. Exposure, danger, hardships, nothing interfered when there was a prospect of acquiring valuable information. It mattered not to him whether he was on the margin or in the vortex of battle--he never thought of anything but the object before him and toward which he bent all his energies. His letters from the seat of war not only gave the best description of the battles fought and of the military position of affairs, but, also, of the political state of the kingdom. But while he was here, considering himself fixed down for an indefinite period, for Spain is proverbial for the protracted duration of its civil wars, Mr. Bennett, in Paris, was planning an expedition to go in search of Dr. Livingstone, buried, alive or dead, somewhere in the heart of Africa. The sympathies of everybody were enlisted in his fortunes, yet the British government, though he had done so much to enhance the fame of his native country, refused to stir a step toward ascertaining his fate, discovering his whereabouts, or relieving him if in want. The Royal Geographical Society, ashamed of the apathy and indifference of the government, had started a subscription to raise funds from private sources to defray the expenses of an expedition to go in search of him. In the meantime this American editor, scorning alike state patronage or private help, conceived the bold project of finding him himself. Looking around for a suitable leader to command an expedition, his eye rested upon Stanley in Spain. And here should be noted the profound sagacity of Mr. Bennett in selecting such a leader for this desperate expedition, that was to go no one knew where, and end no one knew how. Most people thought it was a mammoth advertisement of the New York _Herald_, nothing more. If he was in earnest why did he not select some one of the many African explorers who were familiar with the regions of Central Africa, and had explored in the vicinity of where Livingstone was, by the best judges, supposed to be, if alive? Men, for instance, like Speke, Baker, Burton, Grant and others. This certainly would have given great eclat to the expedition, and, if it failed in its chief object, would unquestionably have furnished new facts for the geographer and the man of science. But to send one who made no pretensions to science, no claims to be a meteorologist, botanist, geologist, or to be familiar with astronomical calculations, all of which are indispensable to a great explorer, seemed absurd. But Mr. Bennett had no intention of making new scientific or geographical discoveries. He had but one object in view--to find Dr. Livingstone--and on the true Napoleonic system of selecting the best man to accomplish a single object, he, with Napoleonic sagacity, fixed on Stanley. The celebrated men who would have given greater distinction to the enterprise would, doubtless, divide up their time and resources between scientific research and the chief object of the expedition, and thus cause delays that might defeat it; or, with more or less of the martinet about them, push their researches only to a reasonable extent and be content with reports instead of personal investigation. But he wanted a man who had but one thing to do, and not only that, but a man who would accomplish the errand on which he was sent or die in the attempt. This was to be no mere well-regulated expedition, that was to turn back when all reasonable efforts had been made. It was one that, if desperate straits should come, would resort to desperate means, and he knew that with Stanley at its head this would be done. He knew that Stanley would fetch out Livingstone, dead or alive, or leave his own bones to bleach in the depths of Africa. Stanley was comparatively young, it was true, and had always accompanied, never led, expeditions. He knew nothing of Africa, or how an expedition should be organized or furnished--it mattered not. Bennett knew he had resources within himself--nerves that never flinch, courage that no amount of danger could daunt, a will that neither an African fever nor a wasted form could break down, and a resolution of purpose that the presence of death itself could not shake, while, to complete all, he had a quickness and accuracy of judgment in a perilous crisis, followed by equally quick and right action, which would extricate him out of difficulties that would overwhelm men who had all his courage, will and energy, but were slower in coming to a decision. This latter quality is one of the rarest ever found even in the strongest men; to think quick and yet think right, to come to a right decision as if by impulse, is a power few men possess. To go swift and yet straight as the cannon ball or lightning's flash, gives to any man's actions tenfold power. In this lay the great secret of Napoleon's success. His campaigns were started, while those of others were under discussion, and the thunder and tumult of battle cleared his preceptions and judgment so that no unexpected disaster could occur that he was not ready to meet. This quickness and accuracy of thought and action is one of the prominent characteristics of Stanley, and more than once saved his life and his expedition. On the 16th day of October, 1869, as he was sitting in his hotel at Madrid, having just returned from the carnage of Valencia, a telegram was handed him. The thunder of cannon and tumult of battle had scarce ceased echoing in his ear when this telegram startled him from his reverie: "Come to Paris on important business." In a moment all was hurry and confusion, his books and pictures were packed, his washed and unwashed clothes were stowed away, and in two hours his trunks were strapped and labeled "Paris." The train started at 3 o'clock, and he still had some time to say good-bye to his friends, and here by mere accident comes out one of the most pleasing traits of his character. Of the friends he is thus to leave, he merely refers to those of the American legation, but dwells with regret on the farewell he must give to two little children, whom he calls his "fast friends." Like a sudden burst of sunlight on a landscape, this unconscious utterance reveals a heart as tender as it is strong, and increases our interest in the man quite as much as in the explorer. At 3 o'clock he was thundering on toward Paris, ready, as he said, to go to the battle or the banquet, all the same. His interview with Mr. Bennett reveals the character of both these men so clearly that we give it in Stanley's own words: "At 3 P. M. I was on my way, and being obliged to stop at Bayonne a few hours, did not arrive at Paris until the following night. I went straight to the 'Grand Hotel,' and knocked at the door of Mr. Bennett's room. "'Come in,' I heard a voice say. Entering, I found Mr. Bennett in bed. "'Who are you?' he asked. "'My name is Stanley,' I answered. "'Ah, yes, sit down; I have important business on hand for you.' "After throwing over his shoulders his _robe de chambre_, Mr. Bennett asked: 'Where do you think Livingstone is?' "'I really do not know, sir.' "'Do you think he is alive?' "'He may be, and he may not be,' I answered. "'Well, I think he is alive, and that he can be found, and I am going to send you to find him.' "'What,' said I, 'do you really think I can find Dr. Livingstone? Do you mean me to go to Central Africa?' "'Yes; I mean that you shall go and find him, wherever you hear that he is, and get what news you can of him; and, perhaps'--delivering himself thoughtfully and deliberately--'the old man may be in want. Take enough with you to help him, should he require it. Of course, you will act according to your own plans, and you will do what is best--but FIND LIVINGSTONE!' "Said I, wondering at the cool order of sending one to Central Africa to search for a man whom I, in common with most other men, believed to be dead: 'Have you considered seriously the great expense you are liable to incur on account of this little journey?' "'What will it cost?' he asked abruptly. "'Burton and Speke's journey to Central Africa cost between £3,000 and £5,000, and I fear it cannot be done under £2,500.' "'Well, I will tell you what you will do. Draw a thousand pounds now, and when you have gone through that, draw another thousand, and when that is spent draw another thousand, and when you have finished that draw another thousand, and so on--but FIND LIVINGSTONE!' "Surprised, but not confused, at the order, for I knew that Mr. Bennett, when he had once made up his mind, was not easily drawn aside from his purpose, I yet thought, seeing it was such a gigantic scheme, that he had not quite considered in his own mind the pros and the cons of the case, I said: 'I have heard that, should your father die, you would sell the _Herald_, and retire from business.' "'Whoever told you so is wrong, for there is not money enough in the United States to buy the New York _Herald_. My father has made it a great paper, but I mean to make it a greater. I mean, that it shall be a newspaper in the true sense of the word; I mean that it shall publish whatever news may be useful to the world, at no matter what cost.' "'After that,' said I, 'I have nothing more to say. Do you mean me to go straight on to Africa to search for Dr. Livingstone?' "'No; I wish you to go to the inauguration of the Suez Canal first, and then proceed up the Nile. I hear Baker is about starting for Upper Egypt. Find out what you can about his expedition, and, as you go up, describe, as well as possible, whatever is interesting for tourists, and then write up a guide--a practical one--for Lower Egypt; tell us about whatever is worth seeing, and how to see it. "'Then you might as well go to Jerusalem; I hear that Captain Warren is making some interesting discoveries there. Then visit Constantinople, and find out about the khedive and sultan. "'Then--let me see--you might as well visit the Crimea and those old battle-grounds. Then go across the Caucasus to the Caspian Sea. I hear there is a Russian expedition bound for Khiva. From thence you may get through Persia to India; you could write an interesting letter from Persepolis. "'Bagdad will be close on your way to India; suppose you go there and write up something about the Euphrates Valley Railway. Then, when you have come to India, you may go after Dr. Livingstone. Probably you will hear by that time that Livingstone is on his way to Zanzibar; but, if not, go into the interior and find him, if alive. Get what news you can; and if you find that he is dead, bring all possible proofs you can of his being dead. That is all. Good-night, and God be with you.' "'Good-night, sir,' I said, 'what is in the power of human nature I will do; and on such an errand as I go upon, God will be with me.' "I lodged with young Edward King, who is making such a name in New England. He was just the man who would have delighted to tell the journal he was engaged upon what young Mr. Bennett was doing, and what errand I was bound upon. I should have liked to exchange opinions with him upon the probable results of my journey, but dared not do so. Though oppressed with the great task before me, I had to appear as if only going to be present at the Suez Canal. Young King followed me to the express train bound for Marseilles, and at the station we parted--he to go and read the newspapers at Bowles's Reading-room, I to Central Africa and--who knows? There is no need to recapitulate what I did before going to Central Africa." He started on his travels, and we hear of him first in Constantinople, from our minister there, Mr. Morris, who had relieved him and his companions when plundered by Turkish brigands. One of Mr. Stanley's traveling companions who had been robbed with himself, accused him, in a published letter, of dishonesty regarding the money our minister had advanced. It is not necessary to go into this accusation or a refutation of it now. It is sufficient to say that Mr. Morris declared the whole charge false, and as the shortest and most complete refutation of such a charge, we give Mr. Morris's own views of Mr. Stanley: "The uncouth young man whom I first knew had grown into a perfect man of the world, possessing the appearance, the manners and the attributes of a perfect gentleman. The story of the adventures which he had gone through and the dangers he had passed during his absence, were perfectly marvelous, and he became the lion of our little circle. Scarcely a day passed but he was a guest at my table, and no one was more welcome, for I insensibly grew to have a strong attachment for him myself." In speaking further on of his projected travels, he said he advised him to go to Persia, which Stanley suddenly came to the conclusion to follow out. "He therefore," he says, "busied himself in procuring letters of introduction to the Russian authorities in the Caucasus, in Georgia and in other countries through which he would have to pass." This is quite enough to put to rest the scandal, which at one time produced quite a sensation, that Stanley had cheated Mr. Morris and misappropriated the funds advanced by him. No explanations are required after this indorsement. Of this long and hazardous journey, the columns of the _Herald_ gave all the principal details. There is nothing in them that illustrates the peculiar characteristics of Stanley more than, or even so much as, his subsequent acts, hence his brief summary of this tour, that seems to have had no definite object whatever, except to give the correspondent of the _Herald_ something to do, until the proper moment to start on the expedition for Livingstone, is, perhaps, the best account that could be given, so far as the general reader is concerned. All we can say is, it seems a very roundabout way in which to commence such an expedition. "I went up the Nile and saw Mr. Higginbotham, chief engineer in Baker's expedition, at Philæ, and was the means of preventing a duel between him and a mad young Frenchman, who wanted to fight Mr. Higginbotham with pistols, because Mr. Higginbotham resented the idea of being taken for an Egyptian through wearing a fez cap. I had a talk with Captain Warren at Jerusalem, and descended one of the pits with a sergeant of engineers to see the marks of Tyrian workmen on the foundation-stones of the Temple of Solomon. I visited the mosques of Stamboul with the minister resident of the United States, and the American consul-general. I traveled over the Crimean battle-grounds with Kinglake's glorious books for reference. I dined with the widow of General Liprandi, at Odessa. I saw the Arabian traveler, Palgrave, at Trebizond, and Baron Nicolay, the civil governor of the Caucasus, at Tiflis. I lived with the Russian embassador while at Teheran, and wherever I went through Persia I received the most hospitable welcome from the gentlemen of the Indo-European Telegraph Company; and, following the example of many illustrious men, I wrote my name upon one of the Persepolitan monuments. In the month of August, 1870, I arrived in India." In completing this sketch of Mr. Stanley's life and character, it is necessary only to add that his after career fully justified the high estimate Mr. Bennett had placed on his extraordinary qualities. These were tested to their utmost extent in his persistent, determined search after the man he was sent to find. But we believe that Livingstone, when found, with whom Stanley passed some months, exerted a powerful influence on the character which we have attempted to portray. Stanley was comparatively young, full of life and ambition, with fame, greater probably than he had ever anticipated, now within his reach. Yet, here in the heart of Africa, he found a man well on in years, of a world-wide fame, yet apparently indifferent to it. This man who had spent his life in a savage country, away from home and all the pleasures of civilized society, who expected to pass the remnant of his days in the same isolated state, was looking beyond _this_ life. He was forgetting himself, in the absorbing purpose to benefit others. Fame to him was nothing, the welfare of a benighted race everything. This was a new revelation to the ambitious young man. Hitherto he had thought only of himself, but here was a man, earnest, thoughtful, sincere, who was living to carry out a great idea--no less than the salvation of a continent--nay more than this, who was working not for himself, but for a Master, and that Master, the God of the universe. He remained with him in close companionship for months, and intimate relations with a man borne up by such a lofty purpose, inspired by such noble feelings, and looking so far away beyond time for his reward, could not but have an important influence on a man with Stanley's noble and heroic qualities. It was a new revelation to him. He had met, not a successful, bold explorer, but a Christian, impelled and sustained by the great and noble idea of regenerating a race and honoring the God of man and the earth. Such a lengthened companionship with a man of this character could but lift Stanley to a higher plane, and inspire him with a loftier purpose than that of a mere explorer. But while this expedition brought out all the peculiar traits we have spoken of, yet his later expedition developed qualities which circumstances had not previously shown. When from this he emerged on the Atlantic coast with his company, he was hailed with acclamations and a British vessel was placed at his disposal in which to return home. But the ease and comfort offered him, and the applause awaiting him, were nothing compared with the comfort and welfare of the savage band that had for so long a time been his companions and his only reliance in the perils through which he had passed. True, they had often been intractable, disobedient and trustless, but still they had been his companions in one of the most perilous marches ever attempted by man, and with that large charity that allowed for the conduct of these untutored, selfish animals of the desert, he forgot it all and would do nothing, think of nothing, till their wants were supplied and their welfare secured. He would see them safe back to the spot from which he took them, and did, before he took care of himself. A noble nature there asserted itself, and we doubt not that every one of those poor ignorant savages would go to the death for that brave man to whom their own welfare was so dear. In this sketch of Mr. Stanley, as it appears to us from the record of his life, we have omitted to notice those faults which are incident to poor human nature, in whatever person it is enshrined. But perhaps this is as good a place as any to notice the charge brought against him by some persons in the English press, of having killed natives, not in self-defense but to carry out his explorations; they asserting that neither for fame nor science, nor for any other motive, had a man a right to take the life of his fellow-man. Without going into an argument on this point, or bringing forward the circumstances of this particular case, leaving that to be explained in the narrative, as it will appear in subsequent pages, we wish simply to say that the philanthropy and Christianity, in behalf of which the charge is made, is pure Pharisaism. Those writers asserted that life should be taken only in self-defense. But in their eyes it is right, from mere covetousness to seize territory in India, and thus provoke the rightful owners to rise in defense of their own, which act converts them into assailants that must be killed in self-defense. But this man having passed through friendly territory, suddenly finds himself stopped by hostile savages, who declare that he must retrace his three months' journey and turn back, not because they are to be despoiled of their land, or wronged in their persons, but from mere savage maliciousness and hate. Mr. Stanley quietly insists on continuing his journey, desiring no conflict, but finding them determined to kill him and break up his expedition, he anticipates their movements and shoots down some of them, and lo, these writers who defend the slaughter of tens of thousands of men in India, so that England may enjoy her wholesale robbery, nay, who threaten Europe with bloody war at the mere hint that others may want to share her unjust possessions--these writers call on the English people to refuse to give Stanley a public reception, because he killed a half-dozen savages who wanted to kill him. He should have waited, they say, till they fired the first shot; as he did not his conduct should be investigated by the philanthropic subjects of Her Majesty the Queen. CHAPTER II. DESCRIPTION OF AFRICA. All there was of civilization in the world was found at one time in Africa. Art and science had their home there, while now as a whole it is regarded as the most benighted and barbarous portion of the earth and is, not inaptly, called "the dark continent." With a breadth at the equator of four thousand five hundred miles, with the exception of thin lines of sea-coast on each side, this vast space has been as much unknown as the surface of a distant planet. The Barbary States and Egypt on the Mediterranean and Red Seas, some Portuguese settlements on the Indian Ocean, the English and Dutch colonies of South Africa, a few trading ports and the English and American colonies in Guinea, constituted Africa, so far as the knowledge of the civilized world went. And yet within these outer rims lay real Africa, and there lived its immense population. The vast Desert of Sahara on the north, stretching down to the equator, presented an impenetrable barrier to explorers entering from that direction, while along the eastern and western coasts they were beaten back by savage tribes or fell victims to the diseases of the country. Matted forests, wild beasts and venomous reptiles were added to the other obstacles that beset their path, so that only now and then an adventurous explorer penetrated the continent itself. The Nile, piercing to the equator, seemed the most natural avenue by which to enter this region, but the slave hunters by their cruelty, and the petty wars they had engendered among the various tribes, made the presence of a white man in their midst the occasion of hostile demonstrations. The lofty mountains and broad rivers that came out of this vast unknown region added to the mysterious interest that enveloped it. Though certain death awaited the daring traveler who endeavored to penetrate far into the interior, fresh victims were found ready to peril their lives in the effort to solve the mystery of Central Africa. The paths of these travelers, when traced on the map, appears like mere punctures of the great continent. Missionary effort could only effect a lodgment along the coast, while colonies remained stationary on the spot where they were first planted. Although holding the entire southern portion the English colony could make but little headway against the tribes that confronted them on the north. The most adventurous men urged not by curiosity or desire of knowledge, but cupidity, penetrated the farthest into the interior, but, instead of throwing light on those dark places, they made them seem more dark and terrible by the miserable naked and half-starved wretches they brought out to civilization, to become more wretched still by the life of slavery to which they were doomed. Hence it could not be otherwise than that the name of white man should be associated with everything revolting and cruel, and that his presence among these wild barbarians should awaken feelings of vengeance. A white man, to those inland tribes, represented wrong and cruelty alone. The very word meant separation of wives, and husbands, and families, and carrying away to a doom whose mystery only enhanced its actual horrors. Hence the white man's rapacity and cruelty put an effectual bar to his curiosity and enterprise. The love of knowledge and physical science was thwarted by the love of sin and wrong, and the civilized world, instead of wondering at the ignorance and barbarity that kept back all research and all benevolent effort, should wonder that any one bearing the slightest relationship to the so-called outside civilized world, should have been allowed to exist for a day where these wronged, outraged savages bore sway. It is not a little singular that the first real encroachment of these forbidden regions was not made by daring explorers either for adventure or geographical knowledge, or to extend commerce, but by a poor missionary, whose sole object was to get the Gospel introduced among these uncounted millions of heathen. Livingstone really broke the spell that hung over tropical Africa, and set on foot movements that are to work a change in the continent more important and momentous than the imagination of man can at present conceive. It is the tropical region of Africa that gives birth to its largest rivers, is covered by its most magnificent forests, is crossed by its loftiest mountains, and where dwell its teeming millions. And this is the unknown part of the continent and the central point toward which all explorers press. This tropical Africa extends from about ten degrees above to ten degrees below the equator, and from ten to thirty-five east longitude, or in round numbers, nearly a thousand miles above and below the equator, to two thousand or more east and west between these parallels of latitudes. With an ordinary map before him, and with Zanzibar on the east and Congo on the west as great landmarks, the reader will get a very clear idea of the ground aimed at and touched, or pierced and crossed by the more recent explorers, and the thorough final explorations of which will unlock the hidden mystery of Africa, and open all there is of interest to both the Christian and commercial world. That to the former there is a field to be occupied that will tax the self-sacrifice and benevolence of the Christian world, there can be no doubt; while to the commercial world a field of equal magnitude and importance will be laid open. From the mere punctures into the borders of this unknown land, and the two slight trails recently made across it, there remains no doubt that from sixty to one hundred millions of men are here living in the lowest and most degraded condition of heathenism, while the country is burdened with those articles which the commercial world needs and can make of vast benefit to man. A glance at the map will reveal what a vast territory remains to be explored and what a mighty population exists there, yet to come into contact with the civilized world. It is probable that that unexplored region between the equator and the great Desert of Sahara will reveal even greater wonders than have yet been discovered. It is a little strange that the enterprise and the curiosity of man should urge him to make repeated costly and vain attempts to reach the north pole, where there are neither inhabitants nor articles of commerce, while one of the largest continents on our globe, crowded with people and rich in the very products most needed by man, should be allowed to remain so long a sealed book. What little of Africa has been traversed reveals untold wealth waiting the enterprising hand of commerce to bring it forth to civilization. A partial list of the products of this rich country will show what a mine of wealth it is destined to be. Sugar-cane, cotton, coffee, oil palm, tobacco, spices, timber, rice, wheat, Indian corn, India rubber, copal, hemp, ivory, iron, copper, silver, gold and various other articles of immense value are found here, and some of them in the greatest profusion. Thus it will be seen that this vast continent, which from creation seemed destined only to be the abode of wild beasts and reptiles, and of man as wild and savage as the animals amid which he dwelt, and who when brought into contact with civilization becomes more debased, if possible, by the bondage in which he is kept, contains almost everything that civilization needs, and in a future which now seems near, it will be traversed by railroads and steamboats, and the solitudes that have echoed for thousands of years to the howl of wild beasts and the yells of equally wild men, will resound with the hum of peaceful industry and the rush and roar of commerce. The miserable hut will give way to commodious habitations, and the disgusting rites of heathenism to the worship of the true God. Reaching to the temperate zones, north and south, it presents every variety of climate and yields every variety of vegetation. What effect the great revolution awaiting this continent will have on the destiny of the world, none can tell. He would have been considered a mad prophet who would have predicted one-half of the changes that the discovery of the American continent, less than four hundred years ago, has wrought. None can doubt that the Creator of these continents had some design in letting this one, which constitutes nearly a fourth part of our planet, remain in darkness and mystery and savage debasement so long, and now, by the effort of one missionary, cause it to be thrown open to the world. CHAPTER III. STANLEY'S SEARCH FOR LIVINGSTONE. We have seen how suddenly Mr. Stanley was called from Spain, to take charge of an expedition in search of Livingstone, how he was sent to see Baker who was about to enter Africa from the north, and how he was first sent east. But the time came at last for him to enter upon his work in earnest, and he sailed from Bombay, on the 12th of October, for Zanzibar. On board the barque was a Scotchman, named Farquhar, acting as first mate. Taking a fancy to him, Stanley engaged him to accompany the expedition to find Livingstone. Nearly three months later, on the 6th of January, he landed at Zanzibar, one of the most fruitful islands of the Indian Ocean, rejoicing in a sultan of its own. It is the great mart to which come the ivory, gum, copal, hides, etc., and the slaves of the interior. Stanley immediately set about preparing for his expedition. The first things to decide were: How much money is required? How many pigeons as carriers? How many soldiers? How much cloth? How many beads? How much wire? What kinds of cloth is required for the different tribes? After trying to figure this out from the books of other travelers, he decided to consult an Arab merchant who had fitted out several caravans for the interior. In a very short time he obtained more information than he had acquired from books in his long three months' voyage from India. Money is of no use in the heart of Africa. Goods of various kinds are the only coin that can purchase what the traveler needs, or pay the tribute that is exacted by the various tribes. He found that forty yards of cloth per day would keep one hundred men supplied with food. Thus, three thousand six hundred and fifty yards of cloth would support one hundred men twelve months. Next to cloths, beads were the best currency of the interior. Of these he purchased twenty sacks of eleven varieties in color and shape. Next came the brass wire, of which he purchased three hundred and fifty pounds, of about the thickness of telegraph wire. Next came the provisions and outfit of implements that would be needed--medicines, arms, donkeys, and last of all, men. [Illustration: ZANZIBAR. The capital of the island of Zanzibar, off the east coast of Africa.] A man by the name of Shaw, a native of England, who came to Zanzibar as third mate of an American ship, from which he was discharged, applied for work, and was engaged by Stanley in getting what he needed together and to accompany him on the expedition. He agreed to give him three hundred dollars per annum, and placed him next in rank to Farquhar. He then cast about for an escort of twenty men. Five who had accompanied Speke, and were called "Speke's Faithfuls," among whom, as a leader, was a man named Bombay, were first engaged. He soon got together eighteen more men as soldiers, who were to receive three dollars a month. Each was to have a flint-lock musket, and be provided with two hundred rounds of ammunition. Bombay was to receive eighty dollars a year, and the other "faithfuls" forty dollars. Knowing that he was to enter a region of vast inland lakes, and that much delay and travel might be avoided by the possession of a large boat, he purchased one and stripped it of all its covering, to make the transportation easier. He also had a cart constructed to fit the goat-paths of the interior and to aid in transportation. When all his purchases were completed and collected together, he found that the combined weight would be about six tons. His cart and twenty donkeys would not suffice for this, and so the last thing of all, was to procure carriers, or pagosi, as they were called. He himself was presented with a blooded bay horse by an American merchant at Zanzibar, named Gordhue, formerly of Salem. On the 4th of February, 1871, twenty-eight days from his arrival at Zanzibar, Mr. Stanley's equipment was completed and he set sail for Bagomayo, twenty-five miles distant on the mainland, from which all caravans start for the interior, and where he was to hire his one hundred and forty or more pagosi or carriers. He was immediately surrounded with men who attempted in every way to fleece him, and he was harassed, and betrayed and hindered on every side. But, at length, all difficulties were overcome--the goods packed in bales weighing seventy-two pounds each--the force divided into five caravans, and in six weeks after he entered Bagomayo, Stanley himself was ready to start. The first caravan had departed February 18th; the second, February 21st; the third, February 25th; the fourth, on March 11th, and the last on March 21st. All told, the number comprised in all the caravans of the "Herald Expedition," was one hundred and ninety. It was just seventy-three days after Stanley landed at Zanzibar, that he passed out of Bagomayo on his bay horse, with his last caravan, accompanied by twenty-eight carriers and twelve soldiers, under Bombay, while his Arab boy, Selim, the interpreter, had charge of the cart and its load. Out through a narrow lane shaded by trees, they passed, the American flag flying in front, and all in the highest spirits. Stanley had left behind him the quarreling, cheating Arabs, and all his troubles with them. The sun, speeding to the west, was beckoning him on; his heart beat high with hope and ambition; he had taken a new departure in life, and with success would come the renown he so ardently desired. He says, "loveliness glowed around me; I saw fertile fields, rich vegetation, strange trees; I heard the cry of cricket and pewit, and jubilant sounds of many insects, all of which seemed to tell me, 'you are started.' What could I do but lift up my face toward the pure, glowing sky, and cry, 'God be thanked?'" The first camp was three miles and a half distant. The next three days were employed in completing the preparations for the long land journey and for meeting the rainy season, now very near, and on April 4th, a start was made for Unyanyembe, the great half-way house, which he resolved to reach in three months. The road was a mere foot-path, leading through fields in which naked women were at work, who looked up and laughed and giggled as they passed. Passing on, they entered an open forest, abounding in deer and antelope. Reaching the turbid Kingemi, a bridge of felled trees was soon made; Stanley, in the meantime amusing himself with shooting hippopotami, or rather shooting at them, for his small bullets made no more impression on their thick skulls than peas would have done. Crossing to the opposite shore, he found the traveling better. They arrived at Kikoka, a distance of but ten miles, at 5 o'clock in the afternoon, having been compelled to unload the animals during the day, to cross the river and mud pools. This was slow marching, and at this rate of speed it would take a long time to reach the heart of Africa. The settlement was a collection of rude huts. Though bound to the same point that Speke and Burton had reached, Ujiji, Stanley took a different route from them, and one never traveled by a white man before. On the 27th, he left this place and moved westward over a rolling, monotonous country, until they came to Rosako, the province of Ukwee. Just before his departure the next morning, Magonga, the leader of the fourth caravan, came up and told him that three of his carriers were sick, and asked for some medicine. He found the three men in great terror, believing they were about to die, and crying out like children, "Mama, mama." Leaving them, with orders to hurry on as soon as possible, he departed. The country everywhere was in a state of nature except in the neighborhood of villages. Sheltered by the dense forests, he toiled on but was so anxious about the fourth caravan left behind that, after marching nine miles he ordered a halt and made a camp. It soon swarmed with insects, and he set to work to examine them and see if they were the tsetsé, said to be fatal to horses in Africa. Still waiting for the caravan, he went hunting, but soon found himself in such an impenetrable jungle and swamp, filled with alligators, that he resolved never to make the attempt again. The second and third days passing without the arrival of the caravan, he sent Shaw and Bombay back after it, who brought it up on the fourth day. Leaving it to rest in his own camp, he pushed on five miles to the village of Kingaru, set in a deep, damp, pestiferous-looking hollow, surrounded by pools of water. To add to the gloominess of the scene, a pouring rain set in, which soon filled their camping-place with lakelets and rivulets of water. Toward evening the rain ceased, and the villagers began to pour in with their vendibles. Foremost was the chief, bringing with him three measures of matama and a half a measure of rice, which he begged Stanley to accept. The latter saw through the trickery of this meagre present, in offering which the chief called him the "rich sultan." Stanley asked him why, if he was a rich sultan, the chief of Kingaru did not bring him a rich present, that he might give him a rich one in return. "Ah," replied the blear-eyed old fox, "Kingaru is poor, there is no matama in the village." "Well," said Stanley, "if there is no matama in the village, I can give but a yard of cloth," which would be equivalent to his present. Foiled in his sharp practice the chief had to be content with this. At this place he lost one of his horses. The burial of the carcass not far from the encampment, raised a terrible commotion in the village, and the inhabitants assembled in consultation as to how much they must charge him for burying a horse in their village without permission, and soon the wrinkled old chief was also at the camp, and the following dialogue took place, which is given as an illustration of the character of the people with whom he was to have a year's trading intercourse: White Man--"Are you the great chief of Kingaru?" Kingaru--"Huh-uh--yes." W. M.--"The great, great chief?" Kingaru--"Huh-uh--yes." W. M.--"How many soldiers have you?" Kingaru--"Why?" W. M.--"How many fighting men have you?" Kingaru--"None." W. M.--"Oh! I thought you might have a thousand men with you, by your going to fine a strong white man who has plenty of guns and soldiers two doti for burying a dead horse." Kingaru (rather perplexed)--"No; I have no soldiers. I have only a few young men." W. M.--"Why do you come and make trouble, then?" Kingaru--"It was not I; it was my brothers who said to me, 'Come here, come here, Kingaru, see what the white man has done! Has he not taken possession of your soil, in that he has put his horse into your ground without your permission? Come, go to him and see by what right!' Therefore have I come to ask you who gave you permission to use my soil for a burying-ground?" W. M.--"I want no man's permission to do what is right. My horse died; had I left him to fester and stink in your valley, sickness would visit your village, your water would become unwholesome, and caravans would not stop here for trade; for they would say, 'This is an unlucky spot, let us go away.' But enough said; I understand you to say you do not want him buried in your ground; the error I have fallen into is easily put right. This minute my soldiers shall dig him out again and cover up the soil as it was before, and the horse shall be left where he died." (Then shouting to Bombay). "Ho, Bombay, take soldiers with jeinbes to dig my horse out of the ground; drag him to where he died and make everything ready for a march to-morrow morning." Kingaru, his voice considerably higher and his head moving to and fro with emotion, cries out, "Akuna, akuna, Bana"--no, no, master. "Let not the white man get angry. The horse is dead and now lies buried; let him remain so, since he is already there, and let us be friends again." The matter had hardly been settled, when Stanley heard deep groans issuing from one of the animals. On inquiry, he found that they came from the bay horse. He took a lantern and visited him, staying all night and working to save his life. It was in vain--in the morning he died, leaving him now without any horse, which reduced him to donkey riding. Three days passed, and the lagging caravan had not come up. In the meantime, one of his carriers deserted, while sickness attacked the camp, and out of his twenty-five men, ten were soon on the sick list. On the 4th, the caravan came up, and on the following morning was dispatched forward, the leader being spurred on with the promise of a liberal reward if he hurried to Unyanyembe. The next morning, to rouse his people, he beat an alarm on a tin pan, and before sunrise they were on the march, the villagers rushing like wolves into the deserted camp to pick up any rags or refuse left behind. The march of fifteen miles to Imbike showed a great demoralization in his men, many of them not coming up till nightfall. One of the carriers had deserted on the way, taking with him a quantity of cloth and beads. The next morning, before starting, men were sent in pursuit of him. They made that day, the 8th, but ten miles to Msuwa. Though the journey was short, it was the most fatiguing one of all. As it gives a vivid description of the difficulties experienced in traveling through this country, we quote Stanley's own language: "It was one continuous jungle, except three interjacent glades of narrow limits, which gave us three breathing pauses in the dire task of jungle-traveling. The odor emitted from its fell plants was so rank, so pungently acrid, and the miasma from its decayed vegetation so dense, that I expected every moment to see myself and men fall down in paroxysms of acute fever. Happily this evil was not added to that of loading and unloading the frequently falling packs. Seven soldiers to attend seventeen laden donkeys, were entirely too small a number while passing through a jungle; for while the path is but a foot wide, with a wall of thorny plants and creepers bristling on each side, and projecting branches darting across it, with knots of spiky twigs, stiff as spike-nails, ready to catch and hold anything above four feet in height, it is but reasonable to suppose that donkeys, standing four feet high, with loads measuring across, from bale to bale, four feet, would come to grief. "This grief was of frequent recurrence here, causing us to pause every few minutes for re-arrangements. So often had this task to be performed, that the men got perfectly discouraged, and had to be spoken to sharply before they would set to work. By the time I reached Msuwa, there was nobody with me and the ten donkeys I drove but Mabruk, who perseveringly, though generally stolid, stood to his work like a man. Bombay and Uledi were far behind with the most jaded donkeys. Shaw was in charge of the cart, and his experiences were most bitter, as he informed me he had expended the whole vocabulary of stormy abuse known to sailors, and a new one which he had invented _ex tempore_. He did not arrive until two o'clock next morning, and was completely worn out. Truly, I doubt if the most pious divine, in traveling through that long jungle, under those circumstances, with such oft-recurring annoyances, Sisyphean labor, could have avoided cursing his folly for coming hither." A halt was made here, that men and animals might recuperate. The chief of this village was "a white man in everything but color," and brought him the choicest mutton. He and his subjects were intelligent enough to comprehend the utility of his breech-loading guns, and by their gestures illustrated their comprehension of the deadly effects of those weapons in battle. On the 10th, somewhat recuperated, the caravan left this hospitable village and crossed a beautiful little plain, with a few cultivated fields, from which the tillers stared in wonder at the unwonted spectacle it presented. But here Stanley met one of those sights common in that part of the world, but which, it is to be hoped, will soon be seen no more. It was a chained slave-gang, bound east. He says the slaves did not appear to be in the least down-hearted, on the contrary, they were jolly and gay. But for the chains, there was no difference between master and slave. The chains were heavy, but as men and women had nothing else to carry, being entirely naked, their weight, he says, could not have been insupportable. He camped at 10 A. M., and fired two guns, to show they were ready to trade with any of the natives in the region. The halting-place was Kisemo, only twelve miles from Msuwa which was the centre of a populous district, there being no less than five villages in the vicinity fortified by stakes and thorny abattis, as formidable, in their way, as the old fosse and draw-bridge of feudal times. "The belles of Kisemo," he says, "are of gigantic posterioral proportions," and are "noted for their variety in brass wire, which is wound in spiral rings round their wrists and ankles, and for the varieties of style which their wisped heads exhibit; while their poor lords, obliged to be contented with dingy, torn clouts and split ears, show what wide sway Asmodeus holds over this terrestrial sphere--for it must have been an unhappy time when the hard besieged husbands gave way before their hotly-pressing spouses. Besides these brassy ornaments on their extremities, the women of Kisemo frequently wear lengthy necklaces, which run in rivers of colors down their black bodies." But a more comical picture is seldom presented than that of one of those highly-dressed females, "with their huge posterior development, while grinding out corn. This is done in a machine very much like an old-fashioned churn, except the dasher becomes a pestle and the churn a mortar. Swaying with the pestle, as it rises and falls, the breast and posteriors correspond to the strokes of the dasher in a droll sort of sing-song, which gave to the whole exhibition the drollest effect imaginable." A curious superstition of the natives was brought to light here by Shaw removing a stone while putting up his tent. As he did so, the chief rushed forward, and putting it back in its place, solemnly stood upon it. On being asked what was the matter, he carefully lifted it, pointed to an insect pinned by a stick to the ground, which he said had been the cause of a miscarriage of a female of the village. In the afternoon the messengers came back with the deserter and all the stolen goods. Some of the natives had captured him and were about to kill him and take the goods, when the messengers came up and claimed both. He was given up, his captors being content with receiving a little cloth and a few beads in return. Stanley, with great sagacity, caused the thief to be tried by the other carriers, who condemned him to be flogged. They were ordered to carry out their own sentence, which they did amid the yells of the culprit. Before night a caravan arrived, bringing, among other things, a copy of the _Herald_, containing an account of a Presidential levee in Washington, in which the toilette of the various ladies were given. While engrossed in reading in his tent, Stanley suddenly became aware that his tent-door was darkened, and looking up, he saw the chief's daughters gazing with wondering eyes on the great sheets of paper he was scanning so closely. The sight of these naked beauties, glittering in brass wire and beads, presented a ludicrous contrast to the elaborately-dressed belles of whom he had been reading in the paper, and made him feel, by contrast, in what a different world he was living. On the 12th, the caravan reached Munondi, on the Ungerangeri River. The country was open and beautiful, presenting a natural park, while the roads were good, making the day's journey delightful. Flowers decked the ground, and the perfume of sweet-smelling shrubs filled the air. As they approached the river, they came upon fields of Indian corn and gardens filled with vegetables, while stately trees lined the bank. On the 14th, they crossed the river and entered the Wakami territory. This day and the next the road lay through a charming country. The day following, they marched through a forest between two mountains rising on either side of them, and on the 16th reached the territory of Wosigahha. As he approached the village of Muhalleh he was greeted with the discharge of musketry. It came from the fourth caravan, which had halted here. Here also good news awaited him. An Arab chief, with a caravan bound east, was in the place, and told him that he had met Livingstone at Ujiji, and had lived in the next hut to him for two weeks. He described him as looking old, with long, gray mustache and beard, just recovered from illness, and looking very wan. He said, moreover, that he was fully recovered, and was going to visit a country called Monyima. This was cheering news, indeed, and filled Stanley's heart with joy and hope. The valley here, with its rich crops of Indian corn, was more like some parts of the fertile west than a desert country. But the character of the natives began to change. They became more insolent and brutal, and accompanied their requests with threats. Continuing their journey along the valley of the river, they suddenly, to their astonishment, came upon a walled town containing a thousand houses. It rose before them like an apparition with its gates and towers of stone and double row of loop-holes for musketry. The fame of Stanley had preceded him, being carried by the caravans he had dispatched ahead, and a thousand or more of the inhabitants came out to see him. This fortified town was established by an adventurer famous for his kidnapping propensities. A barbaric orator, a man of powerful strength and of cunning address, he naturally acquired an ascendency over the rude tribes of the region, and built him a capital, and fortified it and became a self-appointed sultan. Growing old, he changed his name, which had been a terror to the surrounding tribes, and also the name of his capital, and just before death, bequeathed his power to his eldest daughter, and in her honor named the town _Sultana_, which name it still bears. The women and children hung on the rear of Stanley's caravan, filled with strange curiosity at sight of this first white man they had ever seen, but the scorching sun drove them back one by one, and when Stanley pitched his camp, four miles farther on, he was unattended. He determined to halt here for two days to overhaul his baggage and give the donkeys, whose backs had become sore, time to recuperate. On the second day, he was attacked with the African fever, similar to the chills and fever of the west and southwest. He at once applied the remedies used in the Western States, using powerful doses of quinine, and in three days he pronounced himself well again. CHAPTER IV. WILD EXPERIENCES. Stanley had now traveled one hundred and nineteen miles in fourteen marches, occupying one entire month lacking one day, and making, on an average, four miles a day. This was slow work. The rainy season now set in, and day after day it was a regular down-pour. Stanley was compelled to halt, while disgusting insects, beetles, bugs, wasps, centipedes, worms and almost every form of the lower animal life, took possession of his tent, and gave him the first real taste of African life. On the morning of the 23d of April, he says the rain held up for a short time and he prepared to cross the river, now swollen and turbid. The bridge over which he carried his baggage was of the most primitive kind, while the donkeys had to swim. The passage occupied five hours, yet it was happily accomplished without any casualties. Reloading his baggage and wringing out his clothes, he set out again, leaving the river and following a path that led off in a northerly direction. With his heart light and cheerful by being once more on the march and out of the damp and hateful valley, which was made still more hateful by the disgusting insect life that filled his tent, he ascended to higher ground, and passed with his caravan through successive glades, which opened one after another between forest clumps of trees hemmed in distantly by isolated peaks and scattered mountains. "Now and then," he says, "as we crested low eminences, we caught sight of the blue Usagara Mountains, bounding the horizon westerly and northerly, and looked down on a vast expanse of plain which lay between. At the foot of the lengthy slope, well watered by bubbling springs and mountain rills, we found a comfortable Khembi with well-made huts, which the natives call Simbo. It lies just two hours, or five miles, northwest from the Ungerengeri crossing." We here get incidentally the rapidity with which he traveled, where the face of the country and the roads gave him the greatest facilities for quick marching, two "hours or five miles," he says, which makes his best time two and a half miles an hour. In this open, beautiful country no villages or settlements could be seen, though he was told there were many in the mountain inclosures, the inhabitants of which were false, dishonest and murderous. On the morning of the 24th, as they were about to leave, Simbo, his Arab cook, was caught for the fifth time pilfering, and it being proved against him, Stanley ordered a dozen lashes to be inflicted on him as a punishment, and Shaw was ordered to administer them. The blows being given through his clothes, did not hurt him much, but the stern decree that he, with his donkey and baggage, should be expelled from camp and turned adrift in the forests of Africa, drove him wild, and leaving donkey and everything else, he rushed out of camp and started for the mountains. Stanley, wishing only to frighten him, and having no idea of leaving the poor fellow to perish at the hands of the natives, sent a couple of his men to recall him. But it was of no use; the poor, frightened wretch kept on for the mountains, and was soon out of sight altogether. Believing he would think better of it and return, his donkey was tied to a tree near the camping-ground, and the caravan started forward and having passed through the Makata Valley, which afterward became of sorrowful memory, it halted at Rehenneko at the base of the Usagara Mountains. This valley is a wilderness covered with bamboo, and palm, and other trees, with but one village on its broad expanse, through which the hartbeest, the antelope and the zebra roam. In the lower portions, the mud was so deep that it took ten hours to go ten miles, and the company was compelled to encamp in the woods when but half-way across. Bombay with the cart did not get in till near midnight, and he brought the dolorous tale that he had lost the property-tent, an axe, besides coats, shirts, beads, cloth, pistol and hatchet and powder. He said he had left them a little while that he might help lift the cart out of a mud-hole and during his absence they disappeared. This told to Stanley at midnight roused all his wrath, and he poured a perfect storm of abuse on the cringing Arab, and he took occasion to overhaul his conduct from the start. The cloth if ever found, he said, would be spoiled, the axe, which would be needed at Ujiji to construct a boat, was an irreparable loss, to say nothing of the pistol, powder and hatchet, and worse than all, he had not brought back the cook, whom he knew there was no intention to abandon, and Stanley then and there told him he would degrade him from office and put another man in his place, and then dismissed him, with orders to return at daylight and find the missing property. Four more were now dispatched after the missing cook, and Stanley halted three days to wait the return of his men. In the meantime, provisions ran low, and though there was plenty of game, it was so wild that but little could be obtained, he being able to secure but two potfuls in two days' shooting, but these were quail, grouse and pigeons. On the fourth day, becoming exceedingly anxious, he dispatched Shaw and two more soldiers after the missing men. Toward night he returned, sick with ague, bringing the soldiers with him, but not the missing cook. The soldiers reported that they had marched immediately back to Simbo and having searched in vain in the vicinity for the missing man, they went to the bridge over the river to inquire there. They were told, so they said, that a white donkey had crossed the river in another place driven by some Washensi. Believing the cook had been murdered by those men who were making off with his property, they hastened to the walled town and told the warriors of the western gate that two Washensi, who had murdered a man belonging to the white man, must have passed the place, with a white donkey. They were immediately conducted to the sultana, who had much of the spirit of her father, to whom they told their story. Of the results, Stanley says: "The sultana demanded of the watchmen of the towers if they had seen the two Washensi with the white donkey. The watchmen answered in the affirmative, upon which she at once dispatched twenty of her musketeers in pursuit to Muhalleh. These returned before night, bringing with them the two Washensi and the donkey, with the cook's entire kit. The sultana, who is evidently possessed of her father's energy, with all his lust for wealth, had my messengers, the two Washensi, the cook's donkey and property at once brought before her. The two Washensi were questioned as to how they became possessed of the donkey and such a store of Kisunga clothes, cloth and beads; to which they answered that they had found the donkey tied to a tree with the property on the ground close to it; that seeing no owner or claimant anywhere in the neighborhood, they thought they had a right to it, and accordingly had taken it with them. My soldiers were then asked if they recognized the donkey and property, to which questions they unhesitatingly made answer that they did. They further informed Her Highness that they were not only sent after the donkey, but also after the owner, who had deserted their master's service; that they would like to know from the Washensi what they had done with him. Her Highness was also anxious to know what the Washensi had done with the Hindi, and accordingly, in order to elicit the fact, she charged them with murdering him, and informed them she but wished to know what they had done with the body. "The Washensi declared most earnestly that they had spoken the truth, that they had never seen any such man as described; and if the sultana desired, they would swear to such a statement. Her Highness did not wish them to swear to what in her heart she believed to be a lie, but she would chain them and send them in charge of a caravan to Zanzibar to Lyed Burghosh, who would know what to do with them. Then turning to my soldiers, she demanded to know why the Musungu had not paid the tribute for which she had sent her chiefs. The soldiers could not answer, knowing nothing of such concerns of their master's. The heiress of Kisabengo, true to the character of her robber sire, then informed my trembling men that, as the Musungu had not paid the tribute, she would now take it; their guns should be taken from them, together with that of the cook; the cloth and beads found on the donkey she would also take, the Hindi's personal clothes her chiefs should retain, while they themselves should be chained until the Musungu himself should return and take them by force. "And as she threatened, so was it done. For sixteen hours my soldiers were in chains in the market-place, exposed to the taunts of the servile populace. It chanced the next day, however, that Sheikh Thani, whom I met at Kingaru, and had since passed by five days, had arrived at Limbamwanni, and proceeding to the town to purchase provisions for the crossing of the Makata wilderness, saw my men in chains and at once recognized them as being in my employ. After hearing their story, the good-hearted sheikh sought the presence of the sultana, and informed her that she was doing very wrong--a wrong that could only terminate in blood. 'The Musungu is strong,' he said, 'very strong. He has got ten guns which shoot forty times without stopping, carrying bullets half an hour's distance; he has got several guns which carry bullets that burst and tear a man in pieces. He could go to the top of that mountain and kill every man, woman and child in the town before one of your soldiers could reach the top. The road will then be stopped, Lyed Burghosh will march against your country, the Wadoe and Wakami will come and take revenge on what is left; and the place that your father made so strong will know the Waseguhha no more. Set free the Musungu's soldiers; give them their food and grain for the Musungu; return the guns to the men and let them go, for the white man may even now be on his way here.' "The exaggerated report of my power, and the dread picture sketched by the Arab sheikh, produced good effect, inasmuch as Kingaru and the Mabrukis were at once released from durance, furnished with food sufficient to last our caravan four days, and one gun with its accoutrements and stock of bullets and powder, was returned, as well as the cook's donkey, with a pair of spectacles, a book in Malabar print and an old hat which belonged to one whom we all now believed to be dead. The sheikh took charge of the soldiers as far as Simbo; and it was in his camp, partaking largely of rice and ghee, that Shaw found them, and the same bountiful hospitality was extended to him and his companions." Stanley was now filled with keen regrets for the manner in which he had punished the cook, and mentally he resolved that no matter what a member of his caravan should do in the future he would never drive him out of camp to perish by assassins. Still he would not yet believe that the man was murdered. But he was furious at the treatment of his soldiers by the black Amazon of Limbamwanni, and the tribute she exacted, especially at the seizure of the guns, and if he had been near the place would have made reprisals. But he had already lost four days, and so, next morning, although the rain was coming down in torrents, he broke camp and set forth. Shaw was still sick, and so the whole duty of driving the floundering caravan devolved upon himself. As fast as one was flogged out of the mire in which he had stuck, another would fall in. It took two hours to cross the miry plain, though it was but a mile and a half wide. He was congratulating himself on having at last got over it, when he was confronted by a ditch which the heavy rains had converted into a stream breast deep. The donkeys had all to be unloaded, and led through the torrent, and loaded again on the farther side. They had hardly got under way when they came upon another stream, so deep that it could not be forded, over which they had to swim, and float across their baggage. They then floundered on until they came to a bend of the river, where they pitched their camp, having made but six miles the whole day. This River Makata is only about forty feet in width in the dry season, but at this time it was a wide, turbid stream. Its shores, with its matted grass, decayed vegetable matter and reeking mists, seemed the very home of the ague and fever. It took five hours to cross it the next morning. The rain then came down in such torrents that traveling became impossible, and the camp was pitched. Luckily this proved the last day of the rainy season. It was now the 1st of May, and the expedition was in a pitiable plight. Shaw was still sick, and one man was down with the small-pox. Bombay, too, was sick, and others complaining. Doctoring the sick as well as he knew how, and laying the whip lustily on the backs of those who were shamming, Stanley at length got his caravan in motion and began to cross the Makata plain, now a swamp thirty-five miles broad. It was plash, plash, through the water in some places three or four feet deep, for two days, until they came in sight of the Rudewa River. Crossing a branch of this stream, a sheet of water five miles broad stretched out before the tired caravan. The men declared it could not be crossed, but Stanley determined to try, and after five hours of the most prostrating effort they reached dry ground. The animals, however, began to sicken from this day on, while Stanley himself was seized with dysentery caused by his exposure, and was brought to the verge of the grave. The expedition seemed about to end there on the borders of the Makata swamp. On the 4th, they came to the important village of Rehenneko, the first near which they had encamped since entering the district of Usagara. It was a square, compact village, of about one thousand inhabitants, surrounded by a mud wall and composed of cane-topped huts, which the natives moved from place to place at pleasure. The peculiar ceremonies of the queen's court were very interesting to witness. They rested here four days to recruit. On the 8th, they started forward and began to ascend the mountain. Having reached the summit of the first range of hills, Stanley paused to survey the enchanting prospect. The broad valley of Makata stretched out before him, laced with streams sparkling in the sun, while over it waved countless palm-trees, and far away, blue in the distance, stretched a mighty range of mountains. "Turning our faces west," he says, "we found ourselves in a mountain world, fold rising above fold, peak behind peak, cone jostling cone; away to the north, to the west, to the south, the mountain tops rolled away like so many vitrified waves, not one adust or arid spot was visible in all this scene." [Illustration: CEREMONIES OF THE QUEEN'S COURT. As witnessed in the village of Rehenneko, in the district of Usagara.] The change from the pestilential swamps, through which they had been so long floundering, was most grateful, but the animals suffered greatly, and before they reached their first camping-ground, two had given out. The 9th, they descended into the valley of Mukondokno, and there struck the road traversed by Speke and Burton in 1817. Reaching the dirty village, Kiora, Stanley found there his third caravan, led by Farquhar. By his debaucheries on the way he had made himself sick and brought his caravan into a sad condition. As he heard Stanley's voice, he came staggering out of his tent, a bloated mass of human flesh that never would have been recognized as the trim mate of the vessel that brought Stanley from India. After he examined him as to the cause of his illness, he questioned him about the condition of the property intrusted to his care. Not able to get an intelligent answer out of him, he resolved to overhaul the baggage. On examination, he found that he had spent enough for provisions on which to gormandize to have lasted eight months, and yet he had been on the route but two and a half months. If Stanley had not overtaken him, everything would have been squandered, and of all the bales of cloth he was to take to Unyanyembe not one bale would have been left. Stanley was sorely puzzled what to do with the miserable man. He would die if left at Kiora; he could not walk or ride far, and to carry him seemed well-nigh impossible. On the 11th, however, the two caravans started forward, leaving Shaw to follow with one of the men. But he lagged behind, and had not reached the camp when it was roused next morning. Stanley at once dispatched two donkeys, one for the load that was on the cart and the other for Shaw, and with the messenger the following note: "_You will, upon the receipt of this order, pitch the cart into the nearest ravine, gully or river, as well as all the extra pack saddles; and come at once, for God's sake, for we must not starve here._" After waiting four hours, he went back himself and met them, the carrier with the cart on his head, and Shaw on the donkey, apparently ready, at the least jolt, to tumble off. They, however, pushed on, and arrived at Madete at four o'clock. Crossing the river about three, and keeping on, they, on the 14th, from the top of a hill caught sight of Lake Ugenlo. The outline of it, he says, resembles England without Wales. It is some three miles long by two wide, and is the abode of great numbers of hippopotami, while the buffalo, zebra, boar and antelope come here by night to quench their thirst. Its bosom is covered with wild fowl of every description. Being obliged to halt here two days on account of the desertion of the cooper, with one of the carbines, Stanley explored the lake, and tried several shots at the lumbering hippopotami without effect. [Illustration: SHOOTING HIPPOPOTAMI NEAR LAKE UGENLO.] The deserter having returned of his own free will, the caravan started forward, cursed by the slow progress of the peevish, profane and violent Shaw. The next day at breakfast, a scene occurred that threatened serious consequences. When Shaw and Farquhar took their places, Stanley saw by their looks that something was wrong. The breakfast was a roast quarter of goat, stewed liver, some sweet potatoes, pancakes and coffee. "Shaw," said Stanley, "please carve and serve Farquhar." Instead of doing so, he exclaimed, in an insulting tone, "What dog's meat is this?" "What do you mean?" demanded Stanley. "I mean," replied the fellow, "that it is a downright shame the way you treat us," and then he complained of being compelled to walk and help himself, instead of having servants to wait upon him as he was promised. All this was said in a loud, defiant tone, interlarded with frequent oaths and curses of the "damned expedition," etc. When he had got through, Stanley, fixing his black, resolute eye on him, said: "Listen to me, Shaw, and you, Farquhar, ever since you left the coast have had donkeys to ride. You have had servants to wait upon you; your tents have been set up for you; your meals have been cooked for you; you have eaten with me of the same food I have eaten; you have received the same treatment I have received. But now all Farquhar's donkeys are dead; seven of my own have died, and I have had to throw away a few things, in order to procure carriage for the most important goods. Farquhar is too sick to walk, he must have a donkey to ride; in a few days all our animals will be dead, after which I must have over twenty more pagosi to take up the goods or wait weeks and weeks for carriage. Yet, in the face of these things, you can grumble, and curse, and swear at me at my own table. Have you considered well your position? Do you realize where you are? Do you know that you are my servant, sir, not my companion?" "Servant, be ----" said he. Just before Mr. Shaw could finish his sentence he had measured his length on the ground. "Is it necessary for me to proceed further to teach you?" said Stanley. "I tell you what it is, sir," he said, raising himself up, "I think I had better go back. I have had enough, and I do not mean to go any farther with you. I ask my discharge from you." "Oh, certainly. What--who is there? Bombay, come here." After Bombay's appearance at the tent-door, Stanley said to him: "Strike this man's tent," pointing to Shaw; "he wants to go back. Bring his gun and pistol here to my tent, and take this man and his baggage two hundred yards outside of the camp, and there leave him." In a few minutes his tent was down, his gun and pistol in Stanley's tent, and Bombay returned to make his report, with four men under arms. "Now go, sir. You are at perfect liberty to go. These men will escort you outside of camp, and there leave you and your baggage." He walked out, the men escorting him and carrying his baggage for him. After breakfast, Stanley explained to Farquhar how necessary it was to be able to proceed; that he had had plenty of trouble, without having to think of men who were employed to think of him and their duties; that, as he (Farquhar) was sick, and would be probably unable to march for a time, it would be better to leave him in some quiet place, under the care of a good chief, who would, for a consideration, look after him until he got well. To all of which Farquhar agreed. Stanley had barely finished speaking before Bombay came to the tent-door, saying: "Shaw would like to speak to you." Stanley went out to the door of the camp, and there met Shaw, looking extremely penitent and ashamed. He commenced to ask pardon, and began imploring to be taken back, and promising that occasion to find fault with him again should never arise. Stanley held out his hand, saying: "Don't mention it, my dear fellow. Quarrels occur in the best of families. Since you apologize, there is an end of it." That night, as Stanley was about falling asleep, he heard a shot, and a bullet tore through the tent a few inches above his body. He snatched his revolver and rushed out from the tent, and asked the men around the watch-fires, "Who shot?" They had all jumped up, rather startled by the sudden report. "Who fired that gun?" One said the "Bana Mdogo"--little master. Stanley lit a candle and walked with it to Shaw's tent. "Shaw, did you fire?" There was no answer. He seemed to be asleep, he was breathing so hard. "Shaw! Shaw! did you fire that shot?" "Eh--eh?" said he, suddenly awakening; "me?--me fire? I have been asleep." Stanley's eye caught sight of his gun lying near him. He seized it--felt it--put his little finger down the barrel. The gun was warm; his finger was black from the burnt gunpowder. "What is this?" he asked, holding his finger up; "the gun is warm; the men tell me you fired." "Ah--yes," he replied, "I remember it. I dreamed I saw a thief pass my door, and I fired. Ah--yes--I forgot, I did fire. Why, what's the matter?" "Oh, nothing," said Stanley. "But I would advise you, in future, in order to avoid all suspicion, not to fire into my tent; or, at least, so near me. I might get hurt, you know, in which case ugly reports would get about, and that, perhaps, would be disagreeable, as you are probably aware. Good-night." All had their thoughts about this matter, but Stanley never uttered a word about it to any one until he met Livingstone. The doctor embodied his suspicions in the words: "He intended murder!" Mr. Livingstone was evidently right in his conjecture, and Mr. Stanley wrong about the intent of Shaw. In the first place, the coincidence in time between the punishment inflicted on Shaw and this extraordinary shot, in which the ball took the still more extraordinary direction of going through Stanley's tent, that is, to say the least, very difficult to explain. In the second place, his drowsy condition when questioned, and finally remembering so much as that he dreamed a thief was passing his door, _is more_ than suspicious. The fact that, as Mr. Stanley says, he could have had much better opportunities of killing him than this, we regard of very little weight. Opportunities that are absolutely _certain_ of success without suspicion or detection, are not so common as many suppose. Besides, an opportunity so good that the would-be murderer could desire nothing better might occur, and yet the shot or stab not prove fatal. In this case it doubtless never occurred to this man that any one would run his finger down his gun-barrel to see if it was hot from a recent discharge, while no man could tell, in the middle of the night, who fired the shot. It is true, that the wretch knew that the chances were against such a random fire proving fatal, but he knew it was better to take them than the almost certain discovery if he adopted any other method. If, for instance, he had in a lonely place fired at Stanley and the shot had not proved mortal, or if mortal, not immediately so, he well knew what would have been his fate, in the heart of Africa, where justice is administered without the form of law. On the 16th of May the little caravan started off again, and after a march of fifteen miles, camped at Matamombo, in a region where monkeys, rhinoceros, steinboks and antelopes abounded. The next day's march extended fifteen miles, and was through an almost impenetrable jungle. Here he came upon the old Arab sheikh, Thani, who gave him the following good advice: "Stop here two or three days, give your tired animals some rest, and collect all the carriers you can; fill your insides with fresh milk, sweet potatoes, beef, mutton, ghee, honey, beans, matama, madeira nuts, and then, Inshalla! we shall go through Ugogo without stopping anywhere." Stanley was sensible enough to take this advice. He at once commenced on this certainly very prodigal bill of fare for Central Africa. How it agreed with him after the short trial of a single day, may be inferred from the following entry in his diary: "Thank God! after fifty-seven days of living upon matama porridge and tough goat, I have enjoyed with unctuous satisfaction a real breakfast and a good dinner." Here upon the Mpwapwa, he found a place to leave the Scotchman, Farquhar, until he should be strong enough to join him at Unyanyembe. But when he proposed this to the friendly chief, he would consent only on the condition that he would leave one of his own men behind to take care of him. This complicated matters, not only because he could not well spare a man, but because it would be difficult to find one who would consent to undertake this difficult task. This man, whom Stanley had thought would be a reliable friend and a good companion in his long, desolate marches, had turned out a burden and a nuisance. His wants were almost endless, and instead of using the few words in the language of the natives to make them known, he would use nothing but the strongest Anglo-Saxon, and when he found he was not understood, would fall to cursing in equally good round English oaths, and if the astonished natives did not understand this, relapse into regular John Bull sullenness. When, therefore, Stanley opened up the subject to Bombay, the latter was horrified. He said the men had made a contract to go through, not to stop by the way; and when Stanley, in despair, turned to the men, they one and all refused absolutely to remain behind with the cursing, unreasonable white man, one of them mimicking his absurd conduct so completely, that Stanley himself could not help laughing. But the man must be left behind, and somebody must take care of him; and so Stanley had to use his authority, and notwithstanding all his protestations and entreaties, Sako, the only one who could speak English, was ordered to stay. Having engaged twelve new carriers, and from the nearest mountain summit obtained an entrancing view of the surrounding region for a hundred miles, he prepared to start, but not before, notwithstanding the good milk it furnished, giving Mpwapwa a thorough malediction for its earwigs. "In my tent," he says, "they might be counted by thousands; in my slung cot by hundreds; on my clothes they were by fifties; on my neck and head they were by scores. The several plagues of locusts, fleas and lice sink into utter insignificance compared with this damnable one of earwigs." Their presence drove him almost insane. Next to these come the white ants, that threatened in a short time to eat up every article of baggage. He now pushed on toward the Ugogo district, famous for the tribute it exacted from all caravans. CHAPTER V. TRIALS BY THE WAY. On the 22d of May the two other caravans of Stanley joined him, only three hours' march from Mpwapwa, so that the one caravan numbered some four hundred souls, but it was none too large to insure a safe transit through dreaded Ugogo. A waterless desert thirty miles across, and which it would take seventeen hours to traverse, now lay before them. On the way, Stanley was struck down with fever and, borne along in a hammock, was indifferent to the herds of giraffes, and zebras, and antelopes that scoured the desert plain around him. The next morning the fever had left him and mounting, he rode at the head of his caravan, and at 8 A. M. had passed the sterile wilderness and entered the Ugogo district. He had now come into a land of plenty, but one also of extortion. The tribute that all passing caravans had to pay to the chiefs or sultans of this district was enormous. At the first village the appearance of this white man caused an indescribable uproar. The people came pouring out, men and women, naked, yelling, shouting, quarreling and fighting, making it a perfect babel around Stanley, who became irritated at this unseemly demonstration. But it was of no use. One of his men asked them to stop, but the only reply was "_shut up_," in good native language. Stanley, however, was soon oblivious of their curiosity or noise, as heavy doses of quinine to check a chill sent him off into a half doze. The next day, a march of eight miles brought him to the sultan of the district. Report did not exaggerate the abundance of provisions to be found here. Now came the pay of tribute to the exorbitant chief. After a great deal of parley, which was irritating and often childish, Stanley satisfied the sultan's greed, and on the 27th of May he shook the dust of the place from his feet and pushed westward. As he passed the thickly-scattered villages and plenteous fields, filled with tillers, he did not wonder at the haughty bearing of the sultan, for he could command force enough to rob and destroy every caravan that passed that way. Twenty-seven villages lined the road to the next sultan's district, Matomhiru. This sultan was a modern Hercules, with head and shoulders that belonged to a giant. He proved, however, to be a much more reasonable man than the last sultan, and, after a little speechifying, the tribute was paid and the caravan moved off toward Bihawena. The day was hot, the land sterile, crossed with many jungles, which made the march slow and difficult. In the midst of this desolate plain were the villages of the tribe, their huts no higher than the dry, bleached grass that stood glimmering in the heat of the noonday sun. Here he was visited by three natives, who endeavored to play a sharp game on him, which so enraged Stanley that he would have flogged them out of camp with his whip, but one of his men told him to beware, for every blow would cost three or four yards of cloth. Not willing to pay so dearly to gratify his temper he forbore. The sultan was moderate in his demands, and from him he received news from his fourth caravan, which was in advance, and had had a fight with some robbers, killing two of them. The water here was so vile that two donkeys died from drinking of it, while the men could hardly swallow it. Stanley, nervous and weak from fever, paid the extravagant tributes demanded of him, without altercation. From here to the next sultan was a long stretch of forest, filled with elephants, rhinoceros, zebras, deer, etc. But they had no time to stop and hunt. At noon they had left the last water they should find until noon of the next day, even with sharp marching, and hence, no delay could be permitted. The men without tents bivouacked under the trees, while Stanley tossed and groaned all night in a paroxysm of fever, but his courage in no way weakened. At dawn the caravan started off through the dark forest, in which one of the carriers fell sick and died. At 7 A. M. they drew near Nyambwa, where excellent water was found. The villagers here crowded around them with shouts and yells, and finally became so insolent that Stanley grabbed one of them by the neck and gave him a sound thrashing with his donkey-whip. This enraged them, and they walked backward and forward like angry tom-cats, shouting, "Are the Wagogo to be beaten like slaves?" and they seemed by their ferocious manner determined to avenge their comrade, but the moment Stanley raised his whip and advanced they scattered. Finding that the long lash, which cracked like a pistol, had a wholesome effect, whenever they crowded upon him so as to impede his progress, he laid it about him without mercy, which soon cleared a path. The Sultan Kimberah was a small, queer and dirty old man, a great drunkard, and yet the most powerful of all the Ugogo chiefs. Here they had considerable trouble in arranging the amount of tribute, but at length everything was settled and the caravan passed on and entered on a vast salt plain containing a hundred or more square miles, from the salt springs of which the Wagogo obtained their salt. At Mizarza, the next camping-place, Stanley was compelled to halt and doctor himself for the fever which was wearing him to skin and bones. Early in the morning he began to take his quinine, and kept repeating the doses at short intervals until a copious perspiration told him he had broken the fever which had been consuming him for fourteen days. During this time, the sultan of the district, attracted by Stanley's lofty tent, with the American flag floating above it, visited him. He was so astonished at the loftiness and furnishing of the tent, that in his surprise he let fall the loose cloth that hung from his shoulders and stood stark naked in front of Stanley, gaping in mute wonder. Admonished by his son--a lad fifteen years old--he resumed his garb and sat down to talk. Stanley showed him his rifles and other fire-arms, which astonished him beyond measure. On the 4th of June, the caravan was started forward again, and after three hours' march it came upon another district, containing only two villages occupied by pastoral Wahumba and Wahehe. These live in cow-dung cone huts, shaped like Tartar tents. Stanley says: "The Wahumba, so far as I have seen them, are a fine and well-formed race. The men are positively handsome, tall, with small heads, the posterior parts of which project considerably. One will look in vain for a thick lip or flat nose amongst them; on the contrary, the mouth is exceedingly well cut, delicately small; the nose is that of the Greeks, and so universal was the peculiar feature, that I at once named them the Greeks of Africa. Their lower limbs have not the heaviness of the Wagogo and other tribes, but are long and shapely, clean as those of an antelope. Their necks are long and slender, on which their small heads are poised most gracefully. Athletes from their youth, shepherd bred, and intermarrying among themselves, thus keeping the race pure, any of them would form a fit subject for a sculptor who would wish to immortalize in marble an Antrinus, a Hylas, a Daphnis, or an Apollo. The women are as beautiful as the men are handsome. They have clear ebon skins, not coal black, but of an inky hue. Their ornaments consist of spiral rings of brass pendent from the ears, brass ring collars about the neck, and a spiral cincture of brass wire about their loins, for the purpose of retaining their calf and goat skins, which are folded about their bodies, and depending from the shoulder, shade one-half of the bosom, and fall to the knees. "The Wahehe may be styled the Romans of Africa. "Resuming our march, after a halt of an hour, in four hours more we arrived at Mukondoku proper. "This extremity of Ugogo is most populous. The villages which surround the central tembe, where the Sultan Swaruru lives, amount to thirty-six. The people who flocked from these to see the wonderful men whose faces were white who wore the most wonderful things on their persons, and possessed the most wonderful weapons: guns which 'bum-bummed' as fast as you could count on your fingers, formed such a mob of howling savages, that I, for an instant, thought there was something besides mere curiosity which caused such a commotion, and attracted such numbers to the roadside. Halting, I asked what was the matter, and what they wanted, and why they made such a noise? One burly rascal, taking my words for a declaration of hostilities, promptly drew his bow, but as prompt as he had fixed his arrow my faithful Winchester with thirteen shots in the magazine was ready and at my shoulder, and but waited to see the arrow fly to pour the leaden messengers of death into the crowd. But the crowd vanished as quickly as they had come, leaving the burly Thersites, and two or three irresolute fellows of his tribe, standing within pistol range of my leveled rifle. Such a sudden dispersion of the mob which, but a moment before, was overwhelming, caused me to lower my rifle and indulge in a hearty laugh at the disgraceful flight of the men-destroyers. The Arabs, who were as much alarmed at their boisterous obtrusiveness, now came up to patch a truce, in which they succeeded to everybody's satisfaction. "A few words of explanation, and the mob came back in greater numbers than before; and the Thersites who had been the cause of the momentary disturbance were obliged to retire abashed before the pressure of public opinion. A chief now came up, whom I afterwards learned was the second man to Swaruru, and lectured the people upon their treatment of the 'white strangers.'" The tribute-money was easily settled here. On the 7th of June, the route was resumed. There were three roads leading to Uyanzi, and which of the three to take caused long discussion and much quarreling, and when Stanley settled the matter and the caravan started off on the road to Kiti, an attempt was made to direct it to another road, which Stanley soon discovered and prevented only by his prompt resort to physical arguments. At last they reached the borders of Uyanzi, glad to be clear of the land of Ugogo, said to be flowing with milk and honey but which had proved to Stanley a land of gall and bitterness. The forest they entered was a welcome change from the villages of the Ugogo, and two hours after leaving them they came, with the merry sound of horns, to a river in a new district. Continuing on, they made the forest ring with cheers, and shouts, and native songs. The country was beautiful, and the scenery more like cultivated England in former times than barbaric Africa. Passing thus merrily on, they had made twenty miles by five o'clock. At one o'clock next morning the camp was roused, and by the light of the moon the march was resumed, and at three o'clock they arrived at a village to rest till dawn. They had reached a land of plenty and fared well. Kiti was entered on the 10th of June. Here cattle and grain could be procured in abundance. A valley fifteen miles distant was the next camp, and a march of three hours and a half brought them to another village, where provisions were very cheap. They were now approaching Unyanyembe, their first great stopping-place, and where the term of service of many of Stanley's men expired. They marched rapidly now,--to-day through grain-fields, to-morrow past burnt villages, the wreck of bloody wars. At last, with banners flying and trumpets and horns blowing, and amid volleys of small arms, the caravan entered Unyanyembe. Of the three routes from the coast to this place, Stanley discarded the two that had before been traveled by Speke and Burton and Grant and chose the third, with the originality of an American, and thus saved nearly two hundred miles' travel. Mr. Stanley, after reaching this first great objective point, goes back and gives a general description of the regions he has traversed. To the geographer, it may be of interest, but not to the general reader. But the following, taken from his long account, will give the reader a clear idea of the country traversed and of its inhabitants. Beginning with Wiami River, emptying into the Indian Ocean near Zanzibar, he says: "First it appears to me that the Wiami River is available for commerce and, by a little improvement, could be navigated by light-draft steamers near to the Usagara Mountains, the healthy region of this part of Africa, and which could be reached by steamers in four days from the coast, and then it takes one into a country where ivory, sugar, cotton, indigo and other productions can be obtained." Besides, he says: "Four days by steamer bring the missionary to the healthy uplands of Africa, where he can live amongst the gentle Wasagara without fear or alarm; where he can enjoy the luxuries of civilized life without fear of being deprived of them, amid the most beautiful and picturesque scenes a poetic fancy could imagine. Here is the greenest verdure, purest water; here are valleys teeming with grain-stalks, forests of tamarind, mimosa, gum-copal tree; here is the gigantic moule, the stately mparamnsi, the beautiful palm; a scene such as only a tropic sky covers. Health and abundance of food are assured to the missionary; gentle people are at his feet, ready to welcome him. Except civilized society, nothing that the soul of man can desire is lacking here. "From the village of Kadetamare a score of admirable mission sites are available, with fine health-giving breezes blowing over them, water in abundance at their feet, fertility unsurpassed around them, with docile, good-tempered people dwelling everywhere at peace with each other, and with all travelers and neighbors. "As the passes of the Olympus unlocked the gates of the Eastern empires to the hordes of Othman; as the passes of Kumaylé and Sura admitted the British into Abyssinia; so the passes of the Mukondokwa may admit the Gospel and its beneficent influences into the heart of savage Africa. "I can fancy old Kadetamare rubbing his hands with glee at the sight of the white man coming to teach his people the words of the 'Mulungu'--the Sky Spirit; how to sow, and reap, and build houses; how to cure their sick, how to make themselves comfortable--in short, how to be civilized. But the missionary, to be successful, must know his duties as well as a thorough sailor must know how to reef, hand and steer. He must be no kid-glove, effeminate man, no journal writer, no disputatious polemic, no silken stole and chasuble-loving priest, but a thorough, earnest laborer in the garden of the Lord,--a man of the David Livingstone, or of the Robert Moffatt stamp. "The other river, the Rufiji, or Ruhwha, is a still more important stream than Wiami. It is a much longer river, and discharges twice as much water into the Indian Ocean. It rises near some mountains about one hundred miles southwest of Nbena. Kisigo River, the most northern and most important affluent of the Ruhwha, is supposed to flow into it near east longitude thirty-five degrees; from the confluence to the sea, the Ruhwha has a length of four degrees of direct longitude. This fact, of itself, must prove its importance and rank among the rivers of East Africa. "After Zanzibar, our _début_ into Africa is made _via_ Bagomayo. At this place we may see Wangindo, Wasawahili, Warori, Wagogo, Wanyamwezi, Waseguhha and Wasagara; yet it would be a difficult task for any person, at mere sight of their dresses or features, to note the differences. Only by certain customs or distinctive marks, such as tattooing, puncturing of the lobes of the ears, ornaments, wearing the hair, etc., which would appear, at first, too trivial to note, could one discriminate between the various tribal representatives. There are certainly differences, but not so varied or marked as they are reported. "The Wasawahili, of course, through their intercourse with semi-civilization, present us with a race, or tribe, influenced by a state of semi-civilized society, and are, consequently, better dressed and appear to better advantage than their more savage brethren farther west. As it is said that underneath the Russian skin lies the Tartar, so it may be said that underneath the snowy dish-dasheh, or shirt of the Wasawahili, one will find the true barbarian. In the street or bazaar he appears semi-Arabized; his suavity of manner, his prostrations and genuflexions, the patois he speaks, all prove his contact and affinity with the dominant race, whose subject he is. Once out of the coast towns, in the Washensi villages, he sheds the shirt that had half civilized him, and appears in all his deep blackness of skin, prognathous jaws, thick lips--the pure negro and barbarian. Not keenest eye could detect the difference between him and the Washensi, unless his attention had been drawn to the fact that the two men were of different tribes. "The next tribe to which we are introduced are the Wakwere, who occupy a limited extent of country between the Wazaramo and the Wadoe. They are the first representatives of the pure barbarian the traveler meets, when but two days' journey from the sea-coast. They are a timid tribe and a very unlikely people to commence an attack upon any body of men for mere plunder's sake. They have not a very good reputation among the Arab and Wasawahili traders. They are said to be exceedingly dishonest, of which I have not the least doubt. They furnished me with good grounds for believing these reports while encamped at Kingaru, Hera and Imbiki. The chiefs of the more eastern part of Ukwere profess nominal allegiance to the Dwians of the Mrima. They have selected the densest jungles wherein to establish their villages. Every entrance into one of their valleys is jealously guarded by strong wooden gates, seldom over four and a half feet high, and so narrow, sometimes, that one must enter sideways. "These jungle islets which in particular dot the extent of Ukwere, present formidable obstacles to a naked enemy. The plants, bushes and young trees which form their natural defense, are generally of the aloetic and thorny species, growing so dense, interlaced one with the other, that the hardest and most desperate robber would not brave the formidable array of sharp thorns which bristle everywhere. "Some of these jungle islets are infested with gangs of banditti, who seldom fail to take advantage of the weakness of a single wayfarer, more especially if he be a Mgwana--a freeman of Zanzibar, as every negro resident of the island of Zanzibar is distinguished by the Washensi natives of the interior. "I should estimate the population of Ukwere, allowing about one hundred villages to this territory (which is not more than thirty miles square, its bounds on the south being the Rufu River, and on the north the River Wiami), at not more than five thousand souls. Were all these banded together under the command of one chief, the Wakwere might become a powerful tribe. "After the Wakwere we come to the Wakami, a remnant of the once grand nation which occupied the lands from the Ungerengeri to the Great Makata River. Frequent wars with the Wadoe and Waseguhha have reduced them to a narrow belt of country, ten rectilinear miles across, which may be said to be comprised between Kiva Peak and the stony ridge bounding the valley of the Ungerengeri on the east, within a couple of miles from the east bank of the river. "They are as numerous as bees in the Ungerengeri Valley. The unsurpassed fertility has been a great inducement to retain for these people the distinction of a tribe. By the means of a spyglass one may see, as he stands on the top of that stony ridge looking down into the fair valley, clusters of brown huts visible amid bosky clumps, fullness and plenty all over the valley, and may count easily over a hundred villages. "From Ukami, we pass Southern Udoe, and find a warlike, fine-looking people, with a far more intelligent cast of features, and a shade lighter than the Wakami and Wakwere--a people who are full of traditions of race, a people who have boldly rushed to war upon the slightest encroachment upon their territories, and who have bravely defended themselves against the Waseguhha and Wakami, as well as against nomadic marauders from Uhumba. "Udoe, in appearance, is amongst the most picturesque countries between the sea and Unyanyembe. Great cones shoot upward above the everlasting forest, tipped by the light, fleecy clouds, through which the warm, glowing sun darts its rays, bathing the whole in sunlight, which brings out those globes of foliage, which rise in tier after tier to the summits of the hills, colors which would mock the most ambitious painter's efforts at imitation. Udoe first evokes the traveler's love of natural beauty after leaving the sea, her roads lead him up along the sharp spines of hilly ridges, whence he may look down upon the forest-clad slopes, declining on either side of him into the depths of deep valleys, to rise up beyond into aspiring cones which kiss the sky, or into a high ridge with deep, concentric folds, which almost tempt one to undergo much labor in exploring them for the provoking air of mystery in which they seem to be enwrapped. "What a tale this tribe could relate of the slave-trader's deeds. Attacked by the joint forces of the Waseguhha from the west and north, and the slave-traders of Whinde and Sa'adani from the east, the Wadoe have seen their wives and little ones carried into slavery a hundred times, and district after district taken from their country, and attached to Useguhha. For the people of Useguhha were hired to attack their neighbors, the Wadoe, by the Whinde slave-traders, and were also armed with muskets and supplied with ammunition by them, to effect large and repeated captures of Wadoe slaves. The people of this tribe, especially women and children, so superior in physique and intelligence to the servile races by which they were surrounded, were eagerly sought for as concubines and domestics by the lustful Mohammedans. "This tribe we first note to have distinctive tribal marks--by a line of punctures extending lengthwise on each side of the face, and a chipping of the two inner sides of the two middle teeth of the upper row. "The arms of this tribe are similar to the arms of the Wakami and Wakwere, and consist of a bow and arrows, a shield, a couple of light spears or assegais, a long knife, a handy little battle-axe and a club with a large knob at the end of it, which latter is dexterously swung at the head of an enemy, inflicting a stunning and sometimes a fatal blow. "Emerging from the forest of Mikeseh, we enter the territory of the Waseguhha, or Wasegura, as the Arabs wrongly call this country. Useguhha extends over two degrees in length, and its greatest breadth is ninety geographical miles. It has two main divisions, that of Southern Useguhha, from Uruguini to the Wiami River, and Northern Useguhha, under the chieftain Moto, from the Wiami River to Umagassi and Usumbara. "Mostly all the Waseguhha warriors are armed with muskets, and the Arabs supply them with enough ammunition, in return for which they attack Waruguru, Wadoe and Wakwenni, to obtain slaves for the Arab market, and it is but five years since the Waseguhha organized a successful raid into the very heart of the Wasagara Mountains, during which they desolated the populated part of the Makata plain, capturing over five hundred valuable slaves. "Formerly wars in this country were caused by blood feuds between different chiefs; they are now encouraged by the slave buyers of the Mirma, for the purpose of supplying these human chattels for the market of Zanzibar. The Waseguhha are about the most thorough believers in witchcraft, yet the professors of this dark science fare badly at their hands. It is a very common sight to see cinereous piles on the roadside, and the waving garments suspended to the branches of trees above them, which mark the fate of the unfortunate 'Waganga' or medicine man. So long as their predictions prove correct and have a happy culmination, these professors of 'uchawi'--magic art--are regarded with favor by the people; but if an unusual calamity overtakes a family, and they can swear that it is the result of the magician's art, a quorum of relentless inquisition is soon formed, and a like fate to that which overtook the 'witches' in the dark days of New England surely awaits him. [Illustration: EXECUTION FOR WITCHCRAFT. Sometimes performed by burning; at other times by beheadal and casting into the river.] "Enough dead wood is soon found in their African forests, and the unhappy one perishes by fire, and, as a warning to all false professors of the art, his loin-cloth is hung up to a tree above the spot where he met his doom. "In Southern Usagara, the people are most amiable; but in the north, in those districts adjacent to the Wahumba, the people partake of the ferocious character of their fierce neighbors. Repeated attacks from the Waseguhha kidnappers, from the Wadirigo or Wahehe robbers on the southwest, from Wagogo on the west and from Wahumba on the north, have caused them to regard strangers with suspicion; but after a short acquaintance they prove to be a frank, amiable and brave people. Indeed, they have good cause to be distrustful of the Arabs and the Wangwana of Zanzibar. Mbumi, Eastern Usagara, has been twice burned down, within a few years, by the Arabian Waseguhha kidnappers; Rehemeko has met the same fate, and it was not many years ago since Abdullah bin Nasib carried fire and sword from Misonghi to Mpwapwa. Kanyaparu, lord of the hills around Chunyo, Kunyo, once cultivated one-fourth of the Marenga, Mkali; but is now restricted to the hill-tops, from fear of the Wadirigo marauders. "The Wasagara, male and female, tattoo the forehead, bosom and arms. Besides inserting the neck of a gourd in each ear--which carries his little store of 'tumbac' or tobacco, and lime, which he has obtained by burning land shells--he carries quite a number of primitive ornaments around his neck, such as two or three snowy cowrie-shells, carved pieces of wood, or a small goat's horn, or some medicine consecrated by the medicine man of the tribe, a fund of red or white beads, or two or three pieced Lungomazzi egg-beads, or a string of copper coins, and sometimes small brass chains, like a cheap Jack watch-chain. These things they have either made themselves or purchased from Arab traders for chickens or goats. The children all go naked; youths wear a goat or sheep-skin; grown men and women, blessed with progeny, wear domestic or a loin-cloth of Kaniki, or a barsati, which is a favorite colored cloth in Usagara; chiefs wear caps such as are worn by the Wamrima Diwans, or the Arab tarboosh. "Next on our line of march, appears the Wagogo, a powerful race, inhabiting the region west of Usagara to Uyanzi, which is about eighty miles in breadth and about one hundred in length. "The traveler has to exercise great prudence, discretion and judgment in his dealings with them. Here he first heard the word 'houga' after passing Limbomwenni, a word which signifies tribute, though it formerly meant a present to a friend. Since it is exacted from him with threats, that if it is not paid they will make war on him, its best interpretation would be, 'forcibly extorted tribute or toll.' "Naturally, if the traveler desires to be mulcted of a large sum, he will find the Wagogo ready to receive every shred of cloth he gives them. Moumi will demand sixty cloths, and will wonder at his own magnanimity in asking such a small number of cloths from a great Musungu (white man). The traveler, however, will be wise if he permits his chief men to deal with them, after enjoining them to be careful, and not commit themselves too hastily to any number or amount of gifts. "They are, physically and intellectually, the best of the races between Unyamwezi and the sea. Their color is a rich dark brown. There is something in their frontal aspect which is almost leonine. Their faces are broad and intelligent. Their eyes are large and round. Their noses are flat, and their mouths are very large; but their lips, though thick, are not so monstrously thick as those our exaggerated ideal of a negro has. For all this, though the Wagogo is a ferocious man, capable of proceeding to any length upon the slightest temptation, he is an attractive figure to the white traveler. He is proud of his chief, proud of his country, sterile and unlovable though it be; he is proud of himself, his prowess, his weapons and his belongings; he is vain, terribly egotistic, a bully, and a tyrant, yet the Wagogo is capable of forming friendships, and of exerting himself for friendship's sake. One grand vice in his character, which places him in a hostile light to travelers, is his exceeding avarice and greed for riches; and if the traveler suffers by this, he is not likely to be amiably disposed toward him. "This sturdy native, with his rich complexion, his lion front, his menacing aspect, bullying nature, haughty, proud and quarrelsome, is a mere child with a man who will devote himself to the study of his nature, and not offend his vanity. He is easily angered, and his curiosity is easily aroused. A traveler with an angular disposition is sure to quarrel with him--but, in the presence of this rude child of nature, especially when he is so powerful, it is to his advantage and personal safety to soften those angles of his own nature. The Wagogo 'Rob Roy' is on his native ground, and has a decided advantage over the white foreigner. He is not brave, but he is at least conscious of the traveler's weakness, and he is disposed to take advantage of it, but is prevented from committing an act because it is to his advantage to keep the peace. Any violence to a traveler would close the road; caravans would seek other ways, and the chiefs would be deprived of much of their revenues. [Illustration: AFRICAN WARRIORS. The shields and assegais are flourished in the air while the demon-like warriors dance and yell in preparation for battle.] "The Wagogo warrior carries as his weapons a bow and a sheaf of murderous-looking arrows, pointed, pronged and barbed; a couple of light, beautifully-made assegais; a broad, sword-like spear, with a blade over two feet long; a battle-axe, and a rungu or knob-club. He has also a shield, painted with designs in black and white, oval-shaped, sometimes of rhinoceros, or elephant, or bull-hide. From the time he was a toddling urchin he has been familiar with his weapons, and by the time he was fifteen years old he was an adept with them. "He is armed for battle in a very short time. The messenger from the chief darts from village to village, and blows his ox-horn, the signal for war. The warrior hears it, throws his hoe over his shoulder, enters his house, and in a few seconds issues out again, arrayed in war-paint and full fighting costume. Feathers of the ostrich, or the eagle, or the vulture nod above his head; his long crimson robe streams behind him, his shield is on his left arm, his darting assegai in his left hand, and his ponderous man-cleaver--double-edged and pointed, heading a strong staff--is in his right hand; jingling bells are tied around his ankles and knees; ivory wristlets are on his arms, with which he sounds his approach. With the plodding peasant's hoe he has dropped the peasant's garb, and is now the proud, vain, exultant warrior--bounding aloft like a gymnast, eagerly sniffing the battle-field. The strength and power of the Wagogo are derived from their numbers. "Though caravans of Wagogo are sometimes found passing up and down the Unyamwezi road, they are not so generally employed as the Wanyamwezi in trade. Their villages are thus always full of warriors. Weak tribes, or remnants of tribes are very glad to be admitted under their protection. Individuals of other tribes, also, who have been obliged to exile themselves from their own tribes, for some deed of violence, are often found in the villages of the Wagogo. In the north, the Wahumba are very numerous; in the south may be found the Wahehe and Wakimbu, and in the east may be found many a family from Usagara. Wanyamwi are also frequently found in this country. Indeed, these latter people are like Scotchmen, they may be found almost everywhere throughout Central Africa, and have a knack of pushing themselves into prominence. "As in Western Usagara, the houses of the Wagogo are square, arranged around the four sides of an area--to which all the doors open. The roofs are all flat, on which are spread the grain, herbs, tobacco and pumpkins. The back of each department is pierced with small holes for observation and for defense. "The tembe is a fragile affair as constructed in Wagogo; it merely consists of a line of slender sticks daubed over with mud, with three or four strong poles planted at intervals to support the beams and rafters, on which rests the flat clay roof. A musket-ball pierces the wattled walls of a Wagogo tembe through and through. In Uyanzi, the tembe is a formidable affair, because of the abundance of fine trees, which are cut down and split into rails three or four inches thick. "The tembe is divided into apartments, separated from each other by a wattled wall. Each apartment may contain a family of grown-up boys and girls, who form their beds on the floor, out of dressed hides. The father of the family, only, has a kitanda, or fixed cot, made of ox-hide, stretched over a frame, or of the bark of the myombo tree. The floor is of tamped mud, and is exceedingly filthy, smelling strongly of every abomination. In the corners, suspended to the rafters, are the fine, airy dwellings of black spiders of very large size, and other monstrous insects. "Rats, a peculiarly long-headed, dun-colored species, infest every tembe. Cows, goats, sheep and cats are the only domestic animals permitted to dwell within the tembe. "The Wagogo believe in the existence of a God, or sky spirit, whom they call Mulungu. Their prayers are generally directed to him when their parents die. A Wagogo, after he has consigned his father to the grave, collects his father's chattels together, his cloth, his ivory, his knife, his jeinbe (hoe), his bows and arrows, his spear and his cattle, and kneels before them, repeating a wish that Mulungu would increase his worldly wealth, that he would bless his labors and make him successful in trade. They venerate, and often perform a dance in honor of the moon. "The following conversation occurred between myself and a Wagogo trader: "'Who do you suppose made your parents?' "'Why, Mulungu, white man.' "'Well, who made you?' "'If God made my father, God made me, didn't He?' "'That's very good. Where do you suppose your father has gone to, now that he is dead?' "'The dead die,' said he, solemnly, 'they are no more. The sultan dies, he becomes nothing--he is then no better than a dead dog; he is finished, his words are finished--there are no words from him. It is true,' he added, seeing a smile on my face, 'the sultan becomes nothing. He who says other words is a liar. There.' "'But then he is a very great man, is he not?' "'While he lives only--after death he goes into the pit, and there is no more to be said of him than any other man.' "'How do you bury a Wagogo?' "'His legs are tied together, his right arm to his body, and his left is put under his head. He is then rolled on his left side in the grave. His cloth he wore during his life is spread over him. We put the earth over him, and put thorn-bushes over it, to prevent the fize (hyena) from getting at him. A woman is put on her right side in a grave apart from the man.' "'What do you do with the sultan, when he is dead?' "'We bury him, too, of course; only he is buried in the middle of the village, and we build a house over it. Each time they kill an ox, they kill before his grave. When the old sultan dies, the new one calls for an ox, and kills it before his grave, calling on Mulungu to witness that he is the rightful sultan. He then distributes the meat in his father's name.' "'Who succeeds the sultan? Is he the eldest son?' "'Yes, if he has a son; if childless, the great chief next to him in rank. The msagira is the next to the sultan, whose business it is to hear the cause of complaint, and convey it to the sultan, who, through the sultan, dispenses justice, he receives the honga, carries it to the mtemi (sultan), places it before him, and when the sultan has taken what he wishes, the rest goes to the msagiri. The chiefs are called manya-para; the msagiri is the chief manya-para.' "'How do the Wagogo marry?' "'Oh, they buy their women.' "'What is a woman worth?' "'A very poor man can buy his wife from her father for a couple of goats.' "'How much has the sultan got to pay?' "'He has got to pay about one hundred goats, or so many cows, so many sheep and goats, to his bride's father. Of course, he is a chief. The sultan would not buy a common woman. The father's consent is to be obtained, and the cattle have to be given up. It takes many days to finish the talk about it. All the family and friends of the bride have to talk about it before she leaves her father's house.' "'In cases of murder, what do you do to the man that kills another?' "'The murderer has to pay fifty cows. If he is too poor to pay, the sultan gives permission to the murdered man's friends or relatives to kill him. If they catch him, they tie him to a tree, and throw spears at him--one at a time first; they then spring on him, cut his head off, then his arms and limbs, and scatter them about the country.' "'How do you punish a thief?' "'If he is found stealing, he is killed at once, and nothing is said about it. Is he not a thief?' "'But, suppose you do not know who the thief is?' "'If a man is brought before us accused of stealing, we kill a chicken. If the entrails are white, he is innocent; if yellow, he is guilty.' "'Do you believe in witchcraft?' "'Of course we do, and punish the man with death who bewitches cattle or stops rain.' "Sacrifices of human life as penalty for witchcraft and kindred superstitions--indeed for many trivial offenses--are painfully numerous among nearly all the tribes. [Illustration: WASTE OF HUMAN LIFE. Human life is sacrificed as a penalty for witchcraft, theft, murder and many trivial offenses.] "Next to Wagogo is Uyanzi, or the 'Magunda Mkali'--the Hot Field. "Uyanzi or Magunda Mkali is at present very populous. Along the northern route--that leading _via_ Munieka--water is plentiful enough, villages are frequent and travelers begin to perceive that the title is inappropriate. The people who inhabit the country are Wakimbu from the south. They are good agriculturists, and are a most industrious race. They are something like the Wasagara in appearance, but do not obtain a very high reputation for bravery. Their weapons consist of light spears, bows and arrows, and battle-axes. Their tembes are strongly made, showing considerable skill in the art of defensive construction. Their bomas are so well made, that one would require cannon to effect an entrance, if the villages were at all defended. They are skillful, also, in constructing traps for elephants and buffaloes. A stray lion or leopard is sometimes caught by them." CHAPTER VI. ADVENTURES IN GREAT VARIETY. Stanley received a noiseless ovation in Unyanyembe as he walked with the governor to his house. Soldiers and men by the hundreds, hovered round their chief, staring at him, while the naked children peered between the legs of the parents. Tea was served in a silver tea-pot and a sumptuous breakfast was furnished, which Stanley devoured as only a hungry man can, who has been shut up for so many months in the wilds of Africa. Then pipes and tobacco were produced, and amid the whiffs of smoke came out all the news that Stanley had brought from Zanzibar, while the gratified sheikh smoked and listened. When Stanley took his leave to look after his men his host accompanied him to show him the house he was to occupy while he remained. It was commodious and quite luxurious after his long life in a tent. All the caravans had arrived, and he received the reports of the chief of each, while the goods were unpacked and examined. One had had a fight with the natives and beaten them, another had shot a thief, and the fourth had lost a bale of goods. On the whole, Stanley was satisfied and thankful there had been no more serious misfortunes. Food was furnished with lavish prodigality, and while he was surfeiting himself, he ordered a bullock to be slain for his men, now reduced to twenty-five in number. On the second day of his arrival, the chief Arabs of Tabna came to visit him. This is the chief Arab settlement of Central Africa, and contains a thousand huts and about five thousand inhabitants. The Arabs are a fine, handsome set of men, and living amid rich pastures, they raise large herds of cattle and goats, and vegetables of all kinds, while their slaves bring back in caravans from Zanzibar the luxuries of the East, not only coffee, spices, wines, salmon, etc., but Persian carpets, rich bedding, and elegant table service. Some of them sport gold watches and chains. Each one keeps as many concubines as he can afford, the size of his harem being limited only by his means. These magnates from Tabna after finishing their visit, invited Stanley to visit their town and partake of a feast they had prepared for him. Three days after, escorted by eighteen of his men, he returned the visit. He arrived in time to attend a council of war which was being held, as to the best manner of asserting their rights against a robber-chief named Mirambo. He had carried war through several tribes and claimed the right to waylay and rob Arab caravans. This must be stopped, and it was resolved to make war against him in his stronghold. Stanley agreed to accompany them, taking his caravan a part of the way and leaving it until Mirambo was defeated, and the way to Ujiji cleared. Returning to Unyanyembe, he found the caravan which had been made up to carry supplies to Livingstone in November 1st, 1870. Having gone twenty-five miles from Zanzibar, to Bagomayo, it had stayed there one hundred days, when, hearing that the English consul was coming, it had started off in affright just previous to Stanley's arrival. Whether owing to his great change in diet or some other cause, Stanley was now stricken down with fever and for a week tossed in delirium. Selim, his faithful servant, took care of him. When he had recovered, the servant also was seized with it. [Illustration: A COUNCIL OF WAR. The chiefs of the tribes in a certain vicinity meet to confer concerning their wrongs and to plan for redress.] But by the 29th of July all the sick had recovered, and the caravan was loaded up for Ujiji. But Bombay was absent and they had to wait from eight o'clock till two in the afternoon, he stubbornly refusing to leave his mistress. When he arrived and was ordered to his place he made a savage reply. The next moment Stanley's cane was falling like lightning on his shoulders. The poor fellow soon cried for mercy. The order "March" was then given, and the guide, with forty armed men behind him, led off with flags streaming. At first, in dead silence, they moved on, but soon struck up a monotonous sort of chorus, which seemed to consist mostly of "Hoy, hoy," and was kept up all day. The second day he arrived at Masangi, where he was told the Arabs were waiting for him at Mfuto, six hours' march distant. The next morning, he arrived at the place where the Arab army was gathered, numbering in all two thousand two hundred and twenty-five men, of whom fifteen hundred were armed with guns. With banners flying and drums beating, they, on the 3d of August, marched forth, but in a few hours Stanley was again stricken down with fever. The next day the march was resumed, and at eleven o'clock Zimbize, the stronghold of the enemy, came in view. The forces quickly surrounded it. A general assault followed and the village was captured, the inhabitants fleeing toward the mountains, pursued closely by the yelling Arabs. Only twenty dead bodies were found within. The next day, two more villages were burned and the day after, a detachment five hundred strong scoured the country around, carrying devastation and ruin in their path. At this critical period of the campaign, Stanley was still down with fever, and while he lay in his hammock, news came that the detachment of five hundred men had been surprised and killed. Mirambo had turned and ambushed them, and now the boasting of the morning was turning into despondency. The women made the night hideous with shrieks and lamentations over their slain husbands. The next day there was a regular stampede of the Arabs, and when Stanley was able to get out of his tent only seven men were left to him; all the rest had returned to Mfuto, and soon after to Tabna twenty-five miles distant. It was plain that it was useless to open the direct road to Ujiji, which lay through Mirambo's district. In fact, it seemed impossible to get there at all, and the only course left was to return to the coast and abandon the project of reaching Livingstone altogether. But what would Livingstone do locked up at Ujiji? He might perhaps go north and meet Baker, who was moving with a strong force southward. But he was told by a man that Livingstone was coming to Nyano Lake toward the Tanganika, on which Ujiji is situated, at the very time it was last reported he was murdered. He was then walking, dressed in American sheeting, having lost all his cloth in Lake Leemba. He had a breech-loading double-barreled rifle with him and two revolvers. Stanley felt that he could not give up trying to reach him now, when it was so probable that he was within four hundred miles of him. On the 13th, a caravan came in from the east and reported Farquhar dead at the place where he had been left. Ten days after, Mirambo attacked Tabna and set it on fire. Stanley, at this time, was encamped at Kwihara, in sight of the burning town. The refugees came pouring in, and Stanley, finding the men willing to stand by him, began to prepare for defense, and counting up his little force found he had one hundred and fifty men. He was not attacked, however, and five days after, Mirambo retreated. The Arabs held councils of war and urged Stanley to become their ally, but he refused, and finally took the bold resolution of organizing a flying caravan, and by a southern route and quick marching, reach Ujiji. This was August 27th, and the third month he had been in Unyanyembe. Having got together some forty men in all, he gave a great banquet to them prior to their departure, which an attack of fever caused him to postpone. On the 20th of September, though too weak to travel, he mustered his entire force outside the town and found, that by additional men which the Arabs had succeeded in securing, it now numbered fifty-four men. When all was ready Bombay was again missing, and when found and brought up, excused himself, as of old, by saying he was bidding his "misses" good-bye. As he seemed inclined to pick a quarrel with Stanley, the latter not being in the most amiable mood and wishing to teach the others a lesson, gave him a sound thrashing. Soon, everything being ready, the word "march" passed down the line and Stanley started on his last desperate attempt to push on to Ujiji, not much farther than from Albany to Buffalo as the crow flies, but by the way he would be compelled to go, no one knew how far, nor what time it would take to reach it. But Stanley had good reason to believe that Livingstone was alive, and from the reports he could get of his movements that he must be at or near Ujiji, and therefore to Ujiji he was determined to go, unless death stopped his progress. He had been set on a mission, and although the conditions were not that he should surmount impossibilities, still he would come as near to that as human effort could. Though sick with fever, and with that prostration and utter loss of will accompanying it, he nevertheless with that marvelous energy that is never exhibited except in rare exceptional characters, kept his great object in view. That never lost its hold on him under the most disastrous circumstances, neither in the delirium of fever nor in the utter prostration that followed it. This tenacity of purpose and indomitable will ruling and governing him, where in all other men it would have had no power, exhibit the extraordinary qualities of this extraordinary man. We do not believe that he himself was fully aware of this inherent power, this fixedness of purpose that makes him different from all other men. No man possessing it is conscious of it any more than an utterly fearless man is conscious of his own courage. The following touching extract from his journal at this time lets in a flood of light on the character and the inner life of this remarkable man: "About 10 P. M. the fever had gone. All were asleep in the tembe but myself, and an unutterable loneliness came on me as I reflected on my position, and my intentions, and felt the utter lack of sympathy with me in all around. Even my own white assistant, with whom I had striven hard, was less sympathizing than my little black boy Kalulu. It requires more nerve than I possess to dispel all the dark presentiments that come upon the mind. But, probably, what I call presentiments are simply the impress on the mind of the warnings which these false-hearted Arabs have repeated so often. This melancholy and loneliness which I feel, may probably have their origin from the same cause. The single candle which barely lights up the dark shade which fills the corners of my room, is but a poor incentive to cheerfulness. I feel as though I were imprisoned between stone walls. But why should I feel as if baited by these stupid, slow-witted Arabs, and their warnings and croakings? I fancy a suspicion haunts my mind, as I write, that there lies some motive behind all this. "I wonder if these Arabs tell me all these things to keep me here, in the hope that I may be induced another time to assist them in their war against Mirambo! If they think so, they are much mistaken, for I have taken a solemn, enduring oath--an oath to be kept while the least hope of life remains in me--not to be tempted to break the resolution I have formed, never to give up the search until I find Livingstone alive, or find his dead body; and never to return home without the strongest possible proofs that he is alive or that he is dead. No living man or living men shall stop me--only death can prevent me. But death--not even this; I shall not die--I will not die--I cannot die! "And something tells me, I do not know what it is--perhaps it is the everliving hopefulness of my own nature; perhaps it is the natural presumption born out of an abundant and glowing vitality, or the outcome of an overweening confidence in one's self--anyhow and everyhow, something tells me to-night I shall find him, and--write it larger--FIND HIM! FIND HIM! Even the words are inspiring. I feel more happy. Have I uttered a prayer? I shall sleep calmly to-night." There is nothing in this whole terrible journey so touching, and revealing so much, as this extract from his journal does. It shows that he is human, and yet far above common human weakness. Beset with difficulties, his only white companion dead or about to be left behind, the Arabs themselves and the natives telling him he cannot go on, left all alone in a hostile country, his men deserting him, he pauses and ponders. To make all these outer conditions darker, he is smitten down with fever that saps the energies, unnerves the heart and fills the imagination with gloomy forebodings, and makes the soul sigh for rest. It is the lowest pit of despondency into which a man may be cast. He feels it, and all alone, fever-worn and sad, he surveys the prospect before him. There is not a single soul on which to lean--not a sympathizing heart to turn to while fever is burning up his brain, and night, moonless and starless, is settling down around him. He would be less than human not to feel the desolation of his position, and for a moment to sink under this accumulation of disastrous circumstances. He does feel how utterly hopeless and sad is his condition; and all through the first part of this entry in his journal, there is something that sounds like a mournful refrain; yet at its close, out of his gloomy surroundings, up from his feverish bed speaks the brave heart in trumpet tones, showing the indomitable will that nothing can break, crying out of the all-enveloping gloom, "_no living man or living men shall stop me_--only death can prevent me." There spoke one of the few great natures God has made. The closing words of that entry in his journal ring like a bugle-note from his sick-bed, and foretell his triumph. But, at last, they were off. Shaw, the last white man left to Stanley, had been sick and apparently indifferent whether he lived or died; but all after a short march became enlivened, and things looked more promising. But Stanley was soon again taken sick with the fever and the men began to be discouraged. Staggering from his sick-bed he found that twenty of his men had deserted. Aroused at this new danger he instantly dispatched twenty men after them, while he sent his faithful follower, Selim, to an Arab chief to borrow a long slave-chain. At night, the messengers returned with nine of the missing men. Stanley then told them that he had never used the slave-chain, but now he should on the first deserters. He had resolved to go to Ujiji, where he believed Dr. Livingstone was, and being so near the accomplishment of the mission he was sent on, he was ready to resort to any measures rather than fail. Deferring the use of the chain at present, he started forward and encamped at Iresaka. In the morning, two more men were missing. Irritated but determined, this resolute man halted, sent back for the fugitives, caught them, and when brought back, flogged them severely and chained them. Notwithstanding this severe treatment, the next morning another man deserted, while to add to his perplexities and enhance the difficulties that surrounded him, a man who had accompanied him all the way from the coast asked to be discharged. Several others of the expedition were now taken sick and became unable to proceed; and it seemed, notwithstanding the resolute will of the leader, that the expedition must break up. But fortunately, that evening men who had been in caravans to the coast entered the village where they were encamped with wondrous stories of what they had seen, which revived the spirits of all, and the next morning they started off, and after three hours' march through the forest came to Kigandu. Shaw, the last white man now left to him, between real and feigned sickness had become such a burden, that he determined to leave him behind, as the latter had often requested. That night, the poor wretch played on an old accordion "Home, Sweet Home," which, miserable as it was, stirred the depths of Stanley's heart for the man now about to be left alone amid Arabs and natives in the most desperate crisis of the undertaking. But it could not be helped. Speed was everything on this new route, or Mirambo would close it also. So on the morning of the 27th he ordered the horn to sound "get ready," and Shaw being sent back to Kwihara, Stanley set off on his southern unknown route to Ujiji and entered the dark forests and pressed rapidly forward. In seven hours he reached the village of Ugunda which numbers two thousand souls. It was well fortified against the robber, Mirambo. Around their principal village, some three thousand square acres were under cultivation, giving them not only all the provisions they wanted for their own use, but also enough for passing caravans. They could also furnish carriers for those in want of them. On the 28th, they arrived at a small village well supplied with corn, and the next day reached Kikura a place impregnated with the most deadly of African fevers. Over desert plains, now sheering on one side to avoid the corpse of a man dead from small-pox, the scourge of Africa, and again stumbling on a skeleton, the caravan kept on till they came to the cultivated fields of Manyara. A wilderness one hundred and thirty-five miles in extent stretched out before them from this place, and Stanley was inclined to be very conciliatory toward the chief of the village, in order to get provisions for the long and desperate march before him. But the chief was very sullen and wholly indifferent to the presents the white man offered him. With adroit diplomacy, Stanley sent to him some magnificent royal cloths, which so mollified the chief that abundant provisions were soon sent in, followed by the chief himself with fifty warriors bearing gifts quite equal to those which Stanley sent him, and they entered the tent of the first white man they had ever seen. Looking at him for some time in silent surprise, the chiefs burst into an incontrollable fit of laughter, accompanied with snapping their fingers. But when they were shown the sixteen-shooters and revolvers their astonishment knew no bounds, while the double-barreled guns, heavily charged, made them jump to their feet with alarm, followed by convulsions of laughter. Stanley then showed them his chest of medicine, and finally gave them a dose in the form of brandy. They tasted it, making wry faces, when he produced a bottle of concentrated ammonia, saying that it was for snake bites. One of the chiefs asked for some of it. It was suddenly presented to his nose, when his features underwent such indescribable contortions that the other chiefs burst into convulsions of laughter, clapped their hands, pinched each other and went through all sorts of ludicrous gesticulations. When the chief recovered himself, the tears in the meanwhile rolling down his cheeks, he laughed and simply said, "_strong_ medicine." The others then took a sniff and went off into paroxysms of laughter. Wednesday, October 4th, found them traveling toward the Gombe River. They had hardly left the waving corn-fields, when they came in sight of a large herd of zebras. Passing on, the open forest resembled a magnificent park, filled with buffalo, zebra, giraffe, antelope and other tropical animals, while the scenery on every side was entrancing. These noble animals, coursing in their wild freedom through those grand, primeval forests, presented a magnificent sight. Stanley, thoroughly aroused, crept back to his camp, which had been pitched on the Gombe River, and prepared for a right royal hunt. He says: "Here, at last, was the hunter's paradise! How petty and insignificant appeared my hunts after small antelope and wild boar; what a foolish waste of energies, those long walks through damp grasses and thorny jungles. Did I not well remember my first bitter experience in African jungles, when in the maritime region? But this--where is the nobleman's park that can match this scene? Here is a soft, velvety expanse of young grass, grateful shade under close, spreading clumps, herds of large and varied game browsing within easy rifle-shot. Surely I must feel amply compensated now for the long southern detour I have made, when such a prospect as this opens to the view! No thorny jungles and rank-smelling swamps are to daunt the hunter, and to sicken his aspirations after true sport. No hunter could aspire after a nobler field to display his prowess. [Illustration: A SPRING-BOK BROWSING] "Having settled the position of the camp, which overlooked one of the pools found in the depression of the Gombe Creek, I took my double-barreled smooth bore, and sauntered off to the parkland. Emerging from behind a clump, three fine, plump spring-bok were seen browsing on the young grass just within one hundred yards. I knelt down and fired; one unfortunate antelope bounded forward instinctively and fell dead. Its companions sprang high into the air, taking leaps about twelve feet in length, as if they were quadrupeds practicing gymnastics, and away they vanished, rising up like India-rubber balls, until a knoll hid them from view. My success was hailed with loud shouts by the soldiers, who came running out from the camp as soon as they heard the reverberation of the gun, and my gun-bearer had his knife at the throat of the beast, uttering a fervent 'Bismillah' as he almost severed the head from the body. "Hunters were now directed to proceed east and north to procure meat, because in each caravan it generally happens that there are _fundi_ whose special trade it is to hunt for meat for the camp. Some of these are experts in stalking, but often find themselves in dangerous positions, owing to the near approach necessary before they can fire their most inaccurate weapons with any certainty. "After luncheon, consisting of spring-bok steak, hot corn-cake and a cup of Mocha coffee, I strolled toward the southwest, accompanied by Kalulu and Majwara, two boy gun-bearers. The tiny perpusilla started up like rabbits from me as I stole along through the underbrush; the honey-bird hopped from tree to tree chirping its call, as if it thought I was seeking the little sweet treasure, the hiding-place of which it only knew; but, no! I neither desired perpusilla nor the honey. I was on the search for something great this day. Keen-eyed fish-eagles and bustards poised on trees above the sinuous Gombe thought, and probably with good reason, that I was after them, judging by the ready flight with which both species disappeared as they sighted my approach. Ah, no! nothing but hartbeest, zebra, giraffe, eland and buffalo this day. "After following the Gombe's course for about a mile, delighting my eyes with long looks at the broad and lengthy reaches of water, to which I was so long a stranger, I came upon a scene which delighted the innermost recesses of my soul; five, six, seven, eight, ten zebras switching their beautiful striped bodies, and biting one another, within about one hundred and fifty yards. The scene was so pretty, so romantic, never did I so thoroughly realize that I was in Central Africa. I felt momentarily proud that I owned such a vast dominion, inhabited by such noble beasts. Here I possessed, within reach of a leaden ball, any one I chose of the beautiful animals, the pride of the African forests. It was at my option to shoot any one of them. Mine they were, without money and without price; yet, knowing this, twice I dropped my rifle, loath to wound the royal beasts, but--crack! and a royal one was on his back, battling the air with his legs. Ah, it was such a pity! but hasten, draw the keen, sharp-edged knife across the beautiful stripes which fold around the throat, and--what an ugly gash! it is done, and I have a superb animal at my feet. Hurrah! I shall taste of Ukonongo zebra to-night. "I thought a spring-bok and zebra enough for one day's sport, especially after a long march. The Gombe, a long stretch of deep water, winding in and out of green groves, calm, placid, with lotus leaves resting lightly on its surface, all pretty, picturesque, peaceful as a summer's dream, looked very inviting for a bath. I sought out the most shady spot under a wide-spreading mimosa, from which the ground sloped smooth as a lawn to the still, clear water. I ventured to undress, and had already stepped to my ankles in the water, and had brought my hands together for a glorious dive, when my attention was attracted by an enormously long body which shot into view, occupying the spot beneath the surface which I was about to explore by a 'header.' Great heavens, it was a crocodile! I sprang back instinctively, and this proved my salvation, for the monster turned away with the most disappointed look, and I was left to congratulate myself upon my narrow escape from his jaws, and to register a vow never to be tempted again by the treacherous calm of an African river." CHAPTER VII. THE END APPROACHES. The following extract from Stanley's journal, written up that night after his hunting tour, shows that this strong, determined, fearless man was not merely a courageous lion, but that he possessed also the eye of an artist and the soul of a poet. With a few strokes of his pen, he sketches a picture on the banks of the forest-lined river, full of life and beauty: "The adventures of the day were over; the azure of the sky had changed to a deep gray; the moon was appearing just over the trees; the water of the Gombe was like a silver belt; hoarse frogs bellowed their notes loudly by the margin of the creek; the fish-eagles uttered their dirge-like cries as they were perched high on the tallest trees; elands snorted their warning to the herd in the forest; stealthy forms of the carnivora stole through the dark woods outside of our camp. Within the high inclosure of bush and thorn which we had raised about our camp, all was jollity, laughter and radiant, genial comfort. Around every camp-fire, dark forms of men were seen squatted: one man gnawed at a luscious bone; another sucked the rich marrow in a zebra's leg bone; another turned the stick, garnished with huge cabobs, to the bright blaze; another held a large rib over a flame; there were others busy stirring, industriously, great black potfuls of ugali, and watching anxiously the meat simmering, and the soup bubbling, while the firelight flickered and danced bravely, and cast a bright glow over the naked forms of the men, and gave a crimson tinge to the tall tent that rose in the centre of the camp, like a temple sacred to some mysterious god; the fires cast their reflections upon the massive arms of the trees, as they branched over our camp; and, in the dark gloom of their foliage, the most fantastic shadows were visible. Altogether, it was a wild, romantic and impressive scene." They halted here for two days, the men hunting and gormandizing. Like all animals, after gorging themselves they did not want to move, and when on the 7th of October Stanley ordered the caravan to be put in motion, the men refused to stir. Stanley at once walked swiftly toward them with his double-barreled gun, loaded with buck-shot, in his hand. As he did so he saw the men seize their guns. He, however, kept resolutely on till within thirty yards of two men, whose heads were peering above an ant-hill, their guns pointed across the road,--then suddenly halting, he took deliberate aim at them, determined come what would to blow out their brains. One of them, a giant, named Azmani, instantly brought up his gun with his finger on the trigger. "Drop that gun or you are a dead man," shouted Stanley. They obeyed and came forward, but he saw that murder was in Azmani's eyes. The other man, at the second order, laid down his gun and, with a blow from Stanley that sent him reeling away, sneaked off. But the giant, Azmani, refused to obey, and Stanley aiming his piece at his head and touching the trigger was about to fire. The former quickly lifted his gun up to his shoulder to shoot. In another second he would have fallen dead at Stanley's feet. At this moment an Arab, who had approached from behind, struck up the wretch's gun and exclaimed, "Man, how dare you point your gun at the master?" This saved his life, and perhaps Stanley's also. It required nerves of iron in a man thus to stand up all alone in the heart of an African forest surrounded by savages and defy them all, and cow them all. But the trouble was over, peace was concluded, and the men with one accord agreed to go on. The two instigators of this mutiny were Bombay and a savage, named Ambari. Snatching up a spear Stanley immediately gave the former a terrible pounding with the handle. Then turning on the latter, who stood looking on with a mocking face, he administered the same punishment to him, after which he put them both in chains. For the next fourteen days, nothing remarkable occurred in the march, which had been in a southwesterly direction. Near a place called Mrera, Stanley, for the first time saw a herd of wild elephants, and was deeply impressed with their lordly appearance. Here Selim was taken sick and the caravan halted for three days, Stanley spending the interval in mending his shoes. He now had four districts to traverse, which would occupy him twenty-five days. Taking a northwesterly route having, as he thought, got around the country of Mirambo, he pushed forward with all speed. Buffaloes, leopards and lions were encountered; the country was diversified, and many of the petty chiefs grasping and unfriendly, so that it was a constant, long, wearisome fight with obstacles from the beginning to the end of each week. But, on November 3d, a caravan of eighty came into Stanley's camp from the westward. The latter asked the news. They replied that a white man had just arrived at Ujiji. This was startling news indeed. "A white man!" exclaimed Stanley. "Yes, a white man." "How is he dressed?" "Like the master," pointing to him. "Is he young or old?" "He is old, with white hair on his face; and he is sick." "Where has he come from?" was the next anxious inquiry. "From a very far country, away beyond Uguh-ha." "And is he now stopping at Ujiji?" "Yes, we left him there eight days ago." "How long is he going to stay there?" "Don't know." "Was he ever there before?" "Yes; he went away a long time ago." Stanley gave a shout of exultation, exclaiming: "It is Livingstone!" Then came the thought, it may be some other man. Perhaps it is Baker, who has worked his way in there before me. It was a crushing thought, that after all his sufferings, and sickness, and toils, he should have been anticipated, and that there was now nothing left for him but to march back again. "No!" he exclaimed to himself: "Baker has no white hair on his face." But he could now wait no longer, and turning to his men, he asked them if they were willing to march to Ujiji without a single halt. If they were, he would, on their arrival, present each two doti of cloth. They all shouted, "Yes!" Stanley jots down: "I was madly rejoiced, intensely eager to resolve the burning question, 'Is it Dr. Livingstone?' God grant me patience; but I do wish there was a railroad, or at least, horses, in this country. With a horse I could reach him in twelve hours." But new dangers confronted him. The chiefs became more exhorbitant in their demands and more hostile in their demonstrations, and but for Stanley's eagerness to get on, he would more than once have fought his way through some of those pertinacious tribes. But his patience, at last, gave out, for he was told after he had settled the last tribute that there were five more chiefs ahead who would exact tribute. This would beggar him, and he asked two natives if there was no way of evading the next chief, named Wahha. "This rather astonished them at first, and they declared it to be impossible; but finally, after being pressed, they replied that one of their number should guide us at midnight, or a little after, into the jungle which grew on the frontiers of Uhha and Uvinza. By keeping a direct west course through this jungle until we came to Ukavanga, we might be enabled--we were told--to travel through Uhha without further trouble. If I were willing to pay the guide twelve doti, and if I were able to impose silence on my people while passing through the sleeping village, the guide was positive I could reach Ujiji without paying another doti. It is needless to add that I accepted the proffered assistance at such a price with joy. "But there was much to be done. Provisions were to be purchased, sufficient to last four days, for the tramp through the jungle and men were at once sent with cloth to purchase grain at any price. Fortune favored us, and before 8 P. M. we had enough for six days. "November 7th.--I did not go to sleep at all last night, but a little after midnight, as the moon was beginning to show itself, by gangs of four the men stole quietly out of the village; and by 3 A. M. the entire expedition was outside the bonna and not the slightest alarm had been made. After whistling to the new guide, the expedition began to move in a southern direction along the right bank of the Kanenzi River. After an hour's march in this direction, we struck west across the grassy plain, and maintained it, despite the obstacles we encountered which were sore enough to naked men. The bright moon lighted our path; dark clouds now and then cast immense long shadows over the deserted and silent plain, and the moonbeams were almost obscured, and at such times our position seemed awful-- "'Till the moon, Rising in clouded majesty, at length Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.' "Bravely toiled the men, without murmur, though their legs were bleeding from the cruel grass. 'Ambrosial morn' at last appeared, with all its beautiful and lovely features. Heaven was born anew to us, with comforting omens and cheery promise. The men, though fatigued at the unusual travel, sped forward with quicker pace as daylight broke, until at 8 A. M. we sighted the swift Rusugi River, where a halt was ordered in a clump of jungle for breakfast and rest. Both banks of the river were alive with buffalo, eland and antelope, but though the sight was very tempting, we did not fire, because we dared not. The report of a gun would have alarmed the whole country. I preferred my coffee, and the contentment which my mind experienced at our success. "An hour after we had rested, some natives carrying salt from the Malagarazi were seen coming up the right bank of the river. When abreast of our hiding-place they detected us, and dropping their salt-bags, they took to their heels at once, shouting out as they ran, to alarm some villages that appeared some four miles north of us. The men were immediately ordered to take up their loads, and in a few minutes we had crossed the Rusugi, and were making direct for a bamboo jungle that appeared in our front. Almost as soon as we entered, a weak-brained woman raised a series of piercing yells. The men were appalled at this noisy demonstration, which would call down upon our heads the vengeance of the Wahha for evading the tribute, to which they thought themselves entitled. In half an hour we should have hundreds of howling savages about us in the jungle, and probably a general massacre would ensue. The woman screamed fearfully again and again, for no cause whatever. Some of the men, with the instinct of self-preservation, at once dropped their bales and loads and vanished into the jungle. The guide came rushing back to me, imploring me to stop her noise. The woman's husband, livid with rage and fear, drew his sword and asked permission to cut her head off at once. Had I given the least signal, the woman had paid with her life for her folly. I attempted to hush her cries by putting my hand over her mouth, but she violently wrestled with me, and continued her cries worse than ever. There remained nothing else for me to do but to try the virtue of my whip over her shoulders. I asked her to desist after the first blow. 'No!' She continued her insane cries with increased force and volume. Again my whip descended on her shoulders. 'No, no, no.' Another blow. 'Will you hush?' 'No, no, no,' louder and louder she cried, and faster and faster I showered the blows for the taming of this shrew. However, seeing I was as determined to flog as she was to cry, she desisted before the tenth blow and became silent. A cloth was folded over her mouth, and her arms were tied behind her; and in a few moments, the runaways having returned to their duty, the expedition moved forward again with redoubled pace." That night they encamped at Lake Musunya, which swarmed with hippopotami. No tent nor hut was raised, nor fire kindled, and Stanley lay down with his rifle slung over his shoulders, ready to act on a moment's notice. Before daylight they were off again, and at early dawn emerged from the jungle and stretched rapidly across a naked plain. Reaching the Rugufa River, they halted in a deep shade, when suddenly Stanley heard a sound like distant thunder. Asking one of his men if it were thunder, the latter replied no, that it was the noise made by the waves of Tanganika breaking into the caverns on its shore. Was he, indeed, so near this great inland sea, of which Ujiji was the chief harbor? Pressing on three hours longer they encamped in the forest. Two hours before daylight they again set out, the guide promising that by next morning they should be clear of the hostile district. On this Stanley exclaims, "Patience, my soul! A few hours more and then the end of all this will be known. I shall be face to face with that white man with the white beard on his face, whoever he may be." Before daylight they started again, and emerging from the forest on to the high road, the guides, thinking they had passed the last village of the hostile tribe, set up a shout, but soon, to their horror, came plump upon its outskirts. Fate seemed about to desert him at the last moment, for if the village was roused he was a doomed man. Keeping concealed amid the trees, Stanley ordered the goats to be killed lest their bleating should lead to discovery, the chickens to be killed also, and then they plunged into the jungle, Stanley being the last man to follow. It was a narrow escape. After an half-hour's march, finding they were not pursued, they again took to the road. One more night in the encampment and then the end would come. Next morning they pushed on with redoubled speed, and in two hours, from the top of a mountain Stanley, with bounding heart, beheld Lake Tanganika, a vast expanse of burnished silver, with dark mountains around it and the blue sky above it. "Hurrah," shouted Stanley, and the natives took up the shout, till the hills and forest rang with their exultant cries. The long struggle was near over; the goal toward which he had been so long straining was almost won. CHAPTER VIII. STANLEY MEETS LIVINGSTONE. Stanley's excitement at this supreme moment of his life can never be described or even imagined. When he started from Zanzibar, he knew he had thrown the dice which were to fix his fate. Successful, and his fame was secure, while failure meant death; and all the chances were against him. How much he had taken upon himself no one but he knew; into what gloomy gulfs he had looked before he started, he alone was conscious. Of the risks he ran, of the narrow escapes he had made, of the toils and sufferings he had endured, he alone could form an estimate. With the accumulation of difficulties and the increasing darkness of his prospects, the one great object of his mission had increased in importance, till great though it was, it became unnaturally magnified so that, at last, it filled all his vision, and became the one, the great, the only object in life worth pursuing. For it he had risked so much, toiled so long and suffered so terribly, that the whole world, with all its interests, was secondary to it. Hope had given way to disappointment and disappointment yielded to despair so often, that his strong nature had got keyed up to a dangerous pitch. But now the reward was near. Balboa, when alone he ascended the summit that was to give him a sight of the great Pacific Ocean, was not more intensely excited than was Stanley when he labored up the steep mountain that should give him a view of the Tanganika. The joy, the exultation of that moment, outbalanced a life of common happiness. It was a feeling that lifts the soul into a region where our common human nature never goes, and it becomes a memory that influences and shapes the character forever. Such a moment of ecstasy--of perfect satisfaction--of exultant, triumphant feeling that asks nothing better--that brings perfect rest with the highest exaltation, can happen to any man but once in a life-time. To attempt to give any description of this culmination of all his effort, and longing, and ambition, except in his own words, would be not only an act of injustice to him, but to the reader. The descent to Ujiji and the interview with Livingstone is full of dramatic interest and the description of it should not be made by a third party, for to attempt to improve on it would be presumption and would end only in failure. We, therefore, give it in Mr. Stanley's own words, that glow with vivid life from beginning to end, and this shall be his chapter: "We are descending the western slope of the mountain, with the valley of the Linche before us. Something like an hour before noon we have gained the thick matite brake, which grows on both banks of the river; we wade through the clear stream, arrive on the other side, emerge out of the brake, and the gardens of the Wajiji are around us--a perfect marvel of vegetable wealth. Details escape my hasty and partial observation. I am almost overpowered with my own emotion. I notice the graceful palms, neat plats, green with vegetable plants, and small villages, surrounded with frail fences of the matite cane. "We push on rapidly, lest the news of our coming might reach the people of Bunder Ujiji before we come in sight and are ready for them. We halt at a little brook, then ascend the long slope of a naked ridge, the very last of the myriads we have crossed. This alone prevents us from seeing the lake in all its vastness. We arrive at the summit, travel across and arrive at its western rim, and--pause, reader--the port of Ujiji is below us, embowered in the palms, only five hundred yards from us. At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we have marched, of the hundreds of hills we have ascended and descended, of the many forests we have traversed, of the jungles and thickets that annoyed us, of the fervid salt plains that blistered our feet, of the hot suns that scorched us, nor the dangers and difficulties now happily surmounted. At last the sublime hour has arrived! our dreams, our hopes, our anticipations are about to be realized. Our hearts and our feelings are with our eyes, as we peer into the palms and try to make out in which hut or house lives the white man, with the gray beard, we heard about on the Malagarazi. "'Unfurl the flags and load the guns.' "'Ay, Wallah, ay, Wallah, bana!' responded the men, eagerly. "'One--two--three--fire.' "A volley from nearly fifty guns roars like a salute from a battery of artillery; we shall note its effect, presently, on the peaceful-looking village below. "'Now, Kirangozi, hold the white man's flag up high, and let the Zanzibar flag bring up the rear. And you men keep close together, and keep firing until we halt in the market-place, or before the white man's house. You have said to me often that you could smell the fish of the Tanganika. I can smell the fish of the Tanganika now. There are fish, and beer, and a long rest awaiting for you. MARCH!' "Before we had gone one hundred yards our repeated volleys had the desired effect. We had awakened Ujiji to the fact that a caravan was coming, and the people were witnessed running up in hundreds to meet us. The mere sight of the flags informed every one immediately that we were a caravan, but the American flag, borne aloft by the gigantic Asmani, whose face was one broad smile on this day, rather staggered them at first. However, many of the people who now approached us remembered the flag. They had seen it float above the American consulate, and from the mast-heads of many a ship in the harbor of Zanzibar, and they were soon heard welcoming the beautiful flag with cries of 'Bindera Kisungu!'--a white man's flag! 'Bindera Mericani!'--the American flag! These cries resounded on all sides. "Then we were surrounded by them--by Wajiji, Wanyamzi, Wangwana, Warundi, Waguhha, Wamanyuema and Arabs, and were almost deafened with the shout of 'Yambo, yambo, bona! Yambo bona, Yambo bona, Yambo bona!' To all and each of my men the welcome was given. "We were now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji, and the crowds are dense about me. Suddenly I hear a voice on my right say: 'Good morning, sir!' "Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of black people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see him at my side with the blackest of faces, but animated and joyous--a man dressed in a long white shirt, with a turban of American sheeting around his woolly head, and I ask: 'Who the mischief are you?' "'I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone,' said he, smiling and showing a gleaming row of teeth. "'What! is Dr. Livingstone here?' "'Yes, sir.' "'In this village?' "'Yes, sir.' "'Are you sure?' "'Sure, sure, sir. Why I just left him.' "'Good-morning, sir,' said another voice. "'Hallo,' said I, 'is this another one?' "'Yes, sir.' "'Well, what is your name?' "'My name is Chumah, sir.' "'What are you, Chumah, the friend of Weko-tani?' "'Yes, sir.' "'And is the doctor well?' "'Not very well, sir.' "'Where has he been so long? "'In Manyuema.' "'Now you, Susi, run and tell the doctor I am coming.' "'Yes, sir,' and off he darted like a madman. "By this time we were within two hundred yards of the village, and the multitude was getting denser, and almost preventing our march. Flags and streamers were out; Arabs and Wangwana were pushing their way through the natives in order to greet us, for according to their account we belonged to them. But the great wonder of all was, 'How did you come from Unyanyembe?' "Soon Susi came running back and asked me my name; he had told the doctor that I was coming, but the doctor was too surprised to believe him, and when the doctor asked him my name Susi was rather staggered. "But during Susi's absence the news had been conveyed to the doctor that it was surely a white man that was coming, whose guns were firing and whose flag could be seen; and the great Arab magnates of Ujiji--Mohammed bin Sali, Sayd bin Majid, Abid bin Suliman, Mohammed bin Gharib and others--had gathered together before the doctor's house, and the doctor had come out on his veranda to discuss the matter and await my arrival. "In the meantime, the head of the expedition had halted and the Kirangozi were out of the ranks, holding the flag aloft, and Selim said to me, 'I see the doctor, sir. Oh, what an old man! He has got a white beard.' And I--what would I not have given for a bit of friendly wilderness where, unseen, I might vent my joy in some mad freak, such as idiotically biting my hand, turning a somersault, or slashing some trees, in order to allay those exciting feelings that were well-nigh uncontrollable. My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances. "So I did that which I thought was most dignified, I pushed back the crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue of people until I came in front of the semi-circle of Arabs, in front of which stood the white man with the gray beard. As I advanced slowly toward him I noticed he was pale, looked wearied, had a gray beard, wore a bluish cap with a faded gold band around it, had on a red-sleeved waistcoat and a pair of gray tweed trousers. I would have run to him, only I was a coward in such a mob--would have embraced him, only, he being an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing--walked deliberately to him, took off my hat and said, 'Dr. Livingstone, I presume?' "'Yes,' said he, with a kind smile, lifting his hat slightly. "I replace my cap on my head, and he puts on his cap, and we both grasp hands, and then I say aloud: 'I thank God, doctor, I have been permitted to see you.' "He answered: 'I feel thankful I am here to welcome you.' [Illustration: STANLEY MEETING LIVINGSTONE AT UJIJI.] "I turned to the Arabs, took off my hat to them in response to the saluting chorus of 'Yambos,' I receive, and the doctor introduces them to me by name. Then oblivious of the crowds, oblivious of the men who shared with me my dangers, we--Livingstone and I--turn our faces toward his tembe. He points to the veranda, or rather mud platform, under the broad over-hanging eaves; he points to his own particular seat, which I see his age and experience in Africa have suggested, namely, a straw mat with a goat-skin over it, and another skin nailed against the wall to protect his back from contact with the cold mud. I protest against taking this seat, which so much more befits him than me, but the doctor will not yield: I must take it. "We are seated--the doctor and I--with our backs to the wall. The Arabs take seats on our left. More than a thousand natives are in our front, filling the whole square densely, indulging their curiosity and discussing the fact of two white men meeting at Ujiji--one just come from Manyuema, in the west, the other from Unyanyembe, in the east. "Conversation began. What about? I declare I have forgotten. Oh! we mutually asked questions of one another, such as: 'How did you come here?' and 'Where have you been all this long time? the world has believed you to be dead.' Yes, that was the way it began; but whatever the doctor informed me, and that which I communicated to him, I cannot exactly report, for I found myself gazing at him, conning the wonderful man, at whose side I now sat in Central Africa. Every hair of his head and beard, every wrinkle of his face, the wanness of his features, and the slightly wearied look he wore, were all imparting intelligence to me--the knowledge I craved for so much ever since I heard the words, 'Take what you want, but find Livingstone.' What I saw was deeply interesting intelligence to me, and unvarnished truths I was listening and reading at the same time. What did these dumb witnesses relate to me? "Oh, reader, had you been at my side that day at Ujiji, how eloquently could be told the nature of this man's work! Had you been there but to see and hear! His lips gave me the details; lips that never lie. I cannot repeat what he said; I was too much engrossed to take my note-book out and begin to stenograph his story. He had so much to say that he began at the end, seemingly oblivious of the fact that five or six years had to be accounted for. But his account was oozing out; it was growing fast into grand proportions--into a most marvelous history of deeds. "The Arabs rose up with a delicacy I approved, as if they intuitively knew that we ought to be left to ourselves. I sent Bombay with them to give them the news they also wanted so much to know about the affairs at Unyanyembe. Sayd bin Majid was the father of the gallant young man whom I saw at Masange, and who fought with me at Zimbizo, and who soon afterwards was killed by Mirambo's Ruga--Ruga in the forest of Wilyankuru; and knowing I had been there, he earnestly desired to hear the tale of the fight; but they all had friends at Unyanyembe, and it was but natural that they should be anxious to hear of what concerned them. "After giving orders to Bombay and Asmani for the provisioning of the men of the expedition, I called 'Kaif-Halek,' or 'how do ye do,' and introduced him to Dr. Livingstone as one of the soldiers in charge of certain goods left at Unyanyembe, whom I had compelled to accompany me to Ujiji that he might deliver in person to his master, the letter-bag he had been intrusted with by Dr. Kirk. "This was the famous letter-bag marked 'Nov. 1st, 1870,' which was now delivered into the doctor's hands, three hundred and sixty-five days after it left Zanzibar! How long, I wonder, had it remained at Unyanyembe, had I not been dispatched into Central Africa in search of the great traveler? "The doctor kept the letter-bag on his knee, then, presently, opened it, looked at the letters contained there and read one or two of his children's letters, his face, in the meanwhile, lighting up. "He asked me to tell him the news. 'No, doctor,' said I, 'read your letters first, which, I am sure, you must be impatient to read.' "'Ah,' said he, 'I have waited years for letters, and I have been taught patience. I can surely afford to wait a few hours longer. No; tell me the general news; how is the world getting along?' "'You probably know much already. Do you know that the Suez Canal is a fact--is opened and a regular trade carried on between Europe and India through it?' "'I did not hear about the opening of it. Well, that is grand news! What else?' "Shortly I found myself enacting the part of an annual periodical to him. There was no need of exaggeration--of any penny-a-line news, or of any sensationalism. The world had witnessed and experienced much the last few years. The Pacific Railroad had been completed; Grant had been elected President of the United States; Egypt had been flooded with savans; the Cretan rebellion had terminated; a Spanish revolution had driven Isabella from the throne of Spain, and a regent had been appointed; General Prim was assassinated; a Castelar had electrified Europe with his advanced ideas upon the liberty of worship; Prussia had humbled Denmark and annexed Schleswig-Holstein, and her armies were now around Paris; the 'Man of Destiny' was a prisoner at Wilhelmshöhe; the queen of fashion and the empress of the French was a fugitive; and the child born in the purple had lost forever the imperial crown intended for its head; the Napoleon dynasty was extinguished by the Prussians, Bismarck and Von Moltke, and France, the proud empire, was humbled to the dust. "What could a man have exaggerated of these facts? What a budget of news it was to one who had emerged from the depths of the primeval forests of Manyuema! The reflection of the dazzling light of civilization was cast on him while Livingstone was thus listening in wonder to one of the most exciting passages of history ever repeated. How the puny deeds of barbarism paled before these! Who could tell under what new phases of uneasy life Europe was laboring even then, while we two of her lonely children rehearsed the tale of her late woes and glories? More worthily, perhaps, had the tongue of a lyric Demodocus recounted them; but in the absence of the poet, the newspaper correspondent performed his part as well and truthfully as he could. "Not long after the Arabs had departed, a dishful of hot hashed-meat cakes was sent to us by Sayd bin Majid, and a curried chicken was received from Mohammed bin Sali, and Moeni Kheri sent a dishful of stewed goat meat and rice; and thus presents of food came in succession, and as fast as they were brought we set to. I had a healthy, stubborn digestion, the exercise I had taken had put it in prime order, but Livingstone--he had been complaining that he had no appetite, that his stomach refused everything but a cup of tea now and then--he ate also--ate like a vigorous, hungry man; and as he vied with me in demolishing the pancakes, he kept repeating, 'You have brought me new life.' "'Oh, by George,' I said, 'I have forgotten something. Hasten, Selim, and bring that bottle; you know which; and bring me the silver goblets. I brought this bottle on purpose for this event, which I hoped would come to pass, though often it seemed useless to expect it.' "Selim knew where the bottle was, and he soon returned with it--a bottle of Sillery champagne; and, handing the doctor a silver goblet brimful of the exhilarating wine, and pouring a small quantity into my own, I said: 'Dr. Livingstone, to your very good health, sir.' "'And to yours,' he responded. "And the champagne I had treasured for this happy meeting was drank with hearty good wishes to each other. "But we kept on talking and talking, and prepared food was brought to us all that afternoon, and we kept on eating every time it was brought until I had eaten even to repletion, and the doctor was obliged to confess that he had eaten enough. Still, Halimah, the female cook of the doctor's establishment, was in a state of the greatest excitement. She had been protruding her head out of the cook-house, to make sure that there were really two white men sitting down in the veranda, when there used to be only one, who would not, because he could not, eat anything; and she had been considerably exercised in her mind over this fact. She was afraid the doctor did not properly appreciate her culinary abilities; but now she was amazed at the extraordinary quantity of food eaten, and she was in a state of delightful excitement. We could hear her tongue rolling off a tremendous volume of clatter to the wondering crowds who halted before the kitchen to hear the current of news with which she edified them. Poor, faithful soul. While we listen to the noise of her furious gossip, the doctor related her faithful services and the terrible anxiety she evinced when the guns first announced the arrival of another white man in Ujiji; how she had been flying about in a state of the utmost excitement, from the kitchen into his presence, and out again into the square, asking all sorts of questions; how she was in despair at the scantiness of the general larder and treasury of the strange household; how she was anxious to make up for their poverty by a grand appearance--to make up a sort of Barmecide feast to welcome the white man. "'Why,' said she, 'is he not one of us? Does he not bring plenty of cloth and beads? Talk about the Arabs! Who are they, that they should be compared to white men? Arabs, indeed!' "The doctor and I conversed upon many things, especially upon his own immediate troubles, and his disappointment upon his arrival at Ujiji when told that all his goods had been sold, and he was reduced to poverty. He had but twenty cloths or so left of the stock he had deposited with the man called sheriff, the half-caste, drunken tailor, who was sent by the British consul in charge of the goods. Besides which he had been suffering from an attack of the dysentery, and his condition was most deplorable. He was but little improved on this day, though he had eaten well, and already began to feel stronger and better. "This day, like all others, though big with happiness to me, at last, was fading away. We, sitting with our faces looking to the east, as Livingstone had been sitting for days preceding my arrival, noted the dark shadow which crept up above the grove of palms beyond the village, and above the rampart of mountains which we had crossed that day, now looming through the fast-approaching darkness; and we listened, with our hearts full of gratitude to the great Giver of Good and Dispenser of all Happiness to the sonorous thunder of the surf of the Tanganika, and to the chorus which the night insects sang. Hours passed, and we were still sitting there with our minds busy upon the day's remarkable events, when I remembered that the venerable traveler had not yet read his letters. "'Doctor,' I said, 'you had better read your letters. I will not keep you up any longer.' "'Yes,' he answered, 'it is getting late, and I will go and read my friends' letters. Good-night, and God bless you.' "'Good-night, my dear doctor, and let me hope, your news will be such as you desire.'" Since the creation of the world there never has occurred such another interview. The feelings of Stanley that night, in the heart of Africa, can only be imagined. The strain had ended, the doubt and suspense were over--_he had found Livingstone!_ he had succeeded; his most extravagant dreams had been realized; his wildest ambition was satisfied, and from that hour the adventurer, the newspaper correspondent, took his place among the great explorers of the world. But it was no stroke of luck,--it was the fitting reward of great risks and great endeavor. CHAPTER IX. STANLEY'S HOMEWARD MARCH. Rest and repose were now enjoyed to the full by Stanley. His long struggles, his doubts and fears, his painful anxiety were over, and the end toward which he had strained with such unflagging resolution, the most disheartening circumstances, and which at times seemed to recede the more as he pressed forward, was at last reached. The sweet repose, the calm satisfaction and enjoyment which always come with the consciousness of complete success, now filled his heart, and he felt as none can feel but he who has at last won a long and doubtful battle. It was complete rest, the entire fruition of his hopes; and as he sat down there in the heart of Africa, beside Livingstone, he was doubtless for at least the first few days, the happiest man on the globe, and well he deserved to be. The goal was won, the prize secured, and for the time being his utmost desires were satisfied. Why should he not be happy? His intercourse with Livingstone for the next four months will be marked by him as the brightest portion of his eventful life. Independent of all he had undergone to find this remarkable man, the man himself enlisted all his sympathies and awakened his most extravagant admiration and purest love, and a more charming picture can hardly be conceived than these two men, walking at sunset along the beach of the wild and lonely lake of Tanganika, talking over the strange scenes and objects of their strange, new world, or recalling home and friends far away amid all the comforts and luxuries of civilization. The man whom Stanley had at last found was almost as new and startling a revelation to him as the country in which he had found him. Simple, earnest, unselfish--nay, unambitious, so far as personal fame was concerned, borne up in all his sufferings and trials by one great and noble purpose, and conquering even savage hate by the power of goodness alone, he was an object of the profoundest interest. And no greater eulogium on the innate goodness and nobleness of Stanley's nature could be given than he unconsciously bestowed on himself by the deep attachment, nay, almost adoration, he expresses for this lonely, quiet, good man. He fastens to him at once, and casting off old prejudices and rejecting all former criticisms of his character, he impulsively becomes his champion, and crowns him the prince of men. The talk between them at their first meeting in this far-off land, was long and pleasant, and when the good-night was given, it was with strange feelings that Stanley turned into his allotted sleeping place in a regular bed. After all the toils and almost unnatural excitement of the day, he soon sank into profound slumber. The next morning he awoke with a start, and looked about him for a moment in a dazed way. He was not on the ground, but in a bed; a roof, not a tent, was above him, while not a sound broke the stillness save the steady, monotonous roar of the surf beating on the shore. As he lay and listened, strange thoughts and varied emotions chased each other in rapid succession through his heart. At length he arose and dressed himself, intending before breakfast to take a stroll along the shore of the lake. But the doctor was up before him and met him with a cordial "Good-morning," and the hope that he had rested well. Livingstone had sat up late reading the news that Stanley had brought him from the outside world, from which he had heard nothing for years. "Sit down," said the venerable man, "you have brought me good and bad news," and then he repeated, first of all, the tidings he had received from his children. In the excitement of the day before, the doctor had forgotten to inquire of Stanley the object of his coming, or where he was going, and the latter now said: "Doctor, you are probably wondering why I came here." "It is true," was the reply, "I have been wondering." That wonder was increased when Stanley said: "I came after you, nothing else." "After me!" exclaimed the now utterly bewildered man. "Yes," said Stanley, "after you. I suppose you have heard of the New York _Herald_?" "Yes," said the doctor. "Well, Mr. Bennett, son of the proprietor, sent me, at his own expense, to find you." Poor Livingstone could hardly comprehend the fact that an American, and a stranger, should expend $25,000 to find him, a solitary Englishman. Stanley lived now some four months in the closest intimacy with Livingstone. Removed from all the formalities of civilized life--the only two in that far-off land who could converse in the English language, and who were of the same lineage and faith--their relations of necessity became very intimate. All restraint was thrown off, and this noble man poured into the astonished ears of Stanley all he had thought, prayed for, endured and suffered for the last long five years. It was a new revelation to his hearer. It opened up a new world; gave him a new and loftier conception of what human nature is capable of attaining, and he says: "I had gone over battle-fields, witnessed revolutions, civil wars, rebellions, emeutes and massacres; stood close to the condemned murderer to record his last struggles and last sighs; but never had I been called to record anything that moved me so much as this man's woes and sufferings, his privations and disappointments, which were now poured into my ear. Verily did I begin to believe that 'the gods above us do with just eyes survey the affairs of men.' I began to recognize the hand of an overruling Providence." After resting for a week, during which time Stanley became thoroughly acquainted with Livingstone and learned to respect and love him more and more, the former asked the doctor if he would not like to explore the north end of the Tanganika Lake and among other things, settle the question whether the Rusizi River flowed _into_ or _out_ of the lake. The doctor gladly consented, and they set off in a canoe manned by sixteen rowers. The weather was fine, the scenery charming, and it seemed like floating through a fairyland. Day after day they kept on--landing at night on the picturesque shores, undisturbed, except in one or two instances, by the natives. The luxuriant banks were lined with villages, filled with an indolent, contented people. With no wants except food to eat, and the lake full of fish, they had nothing to stimulate them to activity or effort of any kind. [Illustration: VILLAGE ON TANGANIKA LAKE] Islands came and went, mountains rose and faded on the horizon, and it was one long holiday to our two explorers. As the rowers bent steadily to their oars and the canoe glided softly through the rippling waters, they spent the time in admiring the beautiful scenery that kept changing like a kaleidoscope, or talking of home and friends and the hopes and prospects of the future. A hippopotamus would now and then startle them by his loud snort, as he suddenly lifted his head near the boat to breathe, wild fowl skittered away as they approached, a sweet fragrance came down from the hill-sides, and the tropical sky bent soft and blue above them. The conventionalities of life were far away and all was calm and peaceful, and seemed to Stanley more like a dream than a reality. They were thus voyaging along the coast twenty-eight days, during which time they had traversed over three hundred miles of water. But at last the time came for Stanley to turn his footsteps homeward. He tried in vain to prevail on Livingstone to go home with him, but the latter, though anxious to see his children, resolutely refused, saying that he must finish his work. He, however, concluded to accompany Stanley as far as Unyanyembe, to meet the stores which had been forwarded to that place for him from Zanzibar. On the 27th of December, therefore, they set out by a new route. Nothing occurred in the long journey of special interest, except the shooting of a zebra or a buffalo, the meeting of a herd of elephants or giraffes, or a lion. It was a tedious and toilsome journey, during which Stanley suffered from attacks of fever, and Livingstone from lacerated feet. They were fifty-three days on the march, but at last Unyanyembe was reached. Stanley once more took possession of his old quarters. Here both found letters and papers from home, brought by a recent caravan, and once more they seemed put in communication with the outside world. Being well-housed and provided with everything they needed, they felt thoroughly comfortable. The doctor's boxes were first broken open, and between the number of poor articles they contained and the absence of good ones which had been abstracted on the way, they proved something of a disappointment. Stanley then overhauled his own stores, of which there were seventy-four loads, the most valuable of which he intended to turn over to Livingstone. These also had been tampered with; still many luxuries remained, and they determined to have their Christmas dinner over again. Stanley arranged the bill of fare, and it turned out grandly. But now he saw that he must begin to prepare for his return to the coast, and so he left Livingstone to write up his journal and to finish the letters he was to send home. In overhauling the stores and making up the packages he should need on his return route, he was able to select and turn over to the doctor two thousand seven hundred and eighty-eight yards of cloth, nine hundred and ninety-two pounds of assorted beads, three hundred and fifty pounds of brass wire, besides bed, canvas boat, carpenters' tools, rifles, revolvers, ammunition, cooking utensils and various other articles of use, making in all about forty loads. These, with the doctor's personal stores, made Livingstone quite a rich man for Central Africa--in fact, he had a four years' supply. At length the letters were all written, the loads strapped, and the next day fixed for Stanley to turn his face homeward and Livingstone his to the heart of Africa. At night the natives gave a great dance as a farewell compliment, and a wild, weird dance it was. Bombay wore a water-bucket on his head, while each carried or wore something grotesque or dangerous. The first was a war dance, and when it ended, a second and different one was started, accompanied by a chorus or song chanted in a slow, mournful tone, of which the burden was "Oh-oh-oh, the white man is going home." That night as Stanley lay and pondered on the morrow, when he should see the "good man" for the last time, he was filled with the keenest sorrow. He had grown to love him like a father; and to see him turn back alone to the savage life he must encounter in his great work, seemed like giving him over to death. It was a sad breakfast to which the two sat down next morning. But it was over at last and the parting hour came. "Doctor," said Stanley, "I will leave two men with you for a couple of days, lest you may have forgotten something, and will wait for them at Tura; and now we must part--there is no help for it--good-bye." "Oh," replied Livingstone, "I am coming with you a little way; I must see you off on the road;" and the two walked on side by side, their hearts burdened with grief. At last Stanley said: "Now, my dear doctor, the best friends must part, you have come far enough, let me beg of you to turn back." Livingstone stopped and, seizing Stanley's hand, said: "I am grateful to you for what you have done for me. God guide you safe home and bless you, my friend." "And may God bring you safe back to us all, my friend," replied Stanley, with a voice choked with emotion. "_Farewell._" They wrung each other's hands in silence for a minute, and then Stanley turned away to hide his tears, murmuring: "Good-bye, doctor; dear friend, good-bye." He would not have been the man he is, not to have been overcome at this parting; alas, to be, as it proved, a final parting, so far as concerns meeting again in this life. But this was not all--the doctor's faithful servants would not be forgotten, and rushing forward, they seized Stanley's hands and kissed them for their good master's sake. The stern and almost tyrannical man, that neither danger nor suffering could move, completely broke down under this last demonstration and could recover himself only by giving the sharp order, MARCH! and he almost drove his men before him, and soon a turn in the path shut out Livingstone's form forever. Yes, forever, so far as the living, speaking man is concerned, but shut out _never_ from Stanley's life. That one man fixed his destiny for this world, and who knows but for the eternal ages? No wonder that he said, long after, "My eyes grow dim at the remembrance of that parting. For four months and four days I lived with him in the same house, or in the same boat, or in the same tent, and I never found a fault in him. I am a man of a quick temper, and often without sufficient cause, I dare say, have broken ties of friendship; but with Livingstone I never had cause of resentment, but each day's life with him added to my admiration of him." The caravan marched wearily back, meeting with nothing eventful till it entered the Ugogo territory, where, owing to a misunderstanding on the part of the natives, who got it into their heads that Stanley meant to pass them without paying the accustomed tribute, a fight seemed inevitable. Had it occurred, it is doubtful whether he or Livingstone's papers would ever have been heard of again. But Stanley had seemed from his infancy a child of destiny, and escaped here, as everywhere, by the skin of his teeth. It was a constant succession of toilsome, painful marches, even when the natives were friendly, while there was often a scarcity of provisions. To secure these he, at last, when on the borders of the wilderness of Marenga Mkali, dispatched three men to Zanzibar, with a request to the consul there to send them back with provisions. These messengers were told not to halt for anything--rain, rivers or inundations--but push right on. "Then," says Stanley, "with a loud, vigorous hurrah, we plunged into the depths of the wilderness which, with its eternal silence and solitude, was far preferable to the jarring, inharmonious discord of the villages of the Wagogo. For nine hours we held on our way, starting with noisy shouts the fierce rhinoceros, the timid quagga and the herds of antelopes, which crowd the jungles of this broad Salina. On the 7th, amid a pelting rain, we entered Mpwapwa, where my Scotch assistant, Farquhar, had died." In twenty-nine days they had marched three hundred and thirty-eight miles. Twelve miles a day, including stoppages and delays, was in such a country rapid marching--nay, almost unparalleled; but Stanley had turned his face homeward and could stand no African dilly-dallying on the way. We cannot go into the details of this homeward march,--to-day startled by a thousand warriors, streaming along the war-path,--to-morrow on the brink of a collision with the natives, the end of which no one could foresee, but the caravan pressed on until they came to the neighborhood of the terrible Makata swamps, that Stanley had occasion so well to remember. Heavy rains had set in, swelling all the streams and inundating the plains, so that the marching was floundering through interminable stretches of water. Now swimming turbulent rivers--now camping in the midst of pestiferous swamps, and all the time drenched by the rain, that fell in torrents--they struggled on until, at last, they came to the dreaded Makata swamp itself. The sight that met them here was appalling, but there was no retreat, and for long hours they toiled slowly through, sometimes up to their necks in water, sometimes swimming, and where it was shallow sinking in deep mire. They thus fought their way on, and at last, weary, worn and half-starved, came to the Makata River. But no sooner were they over this, than a lake six miles wide stretched before them. The natives warned him against attempting to cross it; but nothing could stop him now, and they all plunged in. He says: "We were soon up to our armpits, then the water shallowed to the knee, then we stepped up to the neck and waded on tiptoe, until we were halted on the edge of the Little Makata, which raced along at the rate of eight knots an hour." Fierce and rapid as it was, there was no course left but to swim it, and swim it they did. For a whole week they had been wading and swimming and floundering through water, till it seemed impossible that any one could survive such exposure, but, at last they came to dry ground and to the famous walled city of the Sultana Limbamwanni, which we described in his upward journey. But the heavy rains that had inundated the whole country, had so swollen the river, near the banks on which it was situated, that the water had carried away the entire front wall of the town, and some fifty houses with it. The sultana had fled and her stronghold had disappeared. All along the route was seen the devastating power of the flood as it swept over the country, carrying away a hundred villages in its course. The fields were covered with débris of sand and mud, and what was a paradise when he went in was now a desert. With the subsidence of the water the atmosphere became impregnated with miasma, and the whole land seemed filled with snakes, scorpions, iguanas and ants, while clouds of mosquitoes darkened the air till life became almost intolerable. At last, on May 2d, after forty-seven days of incessant marching, and almost continual suffering, they reached Rosako, where, a few minutes after, the three men he had sent forward arrived, bringing with them a few boxes of jam, two of Boston crackers, and some bottles of champagne; and most welcome they were after the terrible journey through the Makata Valley. The last great obstacle (a ferry of four miles across a watery plain) being surmounted, the caravan approached Bagomayo, and in their jubilant excitement announced its arrival by the firing of guns and blowing of horns, and with shouting hurrahs till they were hoarse. The sun was just sinking behind the distant forests, from which they had emerged and which were filled with such terrible associations, when they entered the town, and sniffed with delight the fresh sea-breeze that came softly stealing inland. The putrid air of the swamps, the poisonous miasma that enveloped the entire country, were left far behind with want and famine, and no wonder the heart was elated and their bounding joy found expression in exultant shouts. Happy in having once more reached civilization; happy in the thought of his triumphant success; and still more happy in the joy that he believed the good news he brought would give to others, Stanley's heart was overflowing with kindness to all, and the world seemed bright to him. But, in a moment it was all dashed on opening the papers at Zanzibar. Scarcely one had a kind word for him; on the contrary, he found nothing but suspicion, jealousy and detraction, and even charges of fabricating the whole story of having found Livingstone. He was stunned at this undeserved cruel reception of his declaration, and the faith in the goodness of human nature, with which Livingstone had inspired him, seemed about to give way before this evidence of its meanness and littleness. He could not comprehend how his simple, truthful, unostentatious story could awaken such unkind feelings, such baseless slanders. It was a cruel blow to receive, after all that he had endured and suffered. No wonder he wrote bitter words of the kid-glove geographers, who criticized him, and the press that jeered at him. But he has had his revenge, for he has triumphed over them all. He immediately set to work to organize a caravan to send off to Livingstone the things he had promised, and then started for home. CHAPTER X. STANLEY'S MAIN EXPEDITION. Stanley, after he had found Livingstone, naturally thought much of the latter's explorations. Africa had become to him an absorbing subject, and he began to imbibe the spirit of Livingstone. This was natural, for Stanley had already won fame there, and why should he not win still greater laurels in the same field? This feeling was much increased after the death of the great explorer, leaving his work unfinished, which Stanley longed to complete. True, Cameron was on the ground to accomplish this very object, but Stanley knew the difficulties one would have to contend with without a boat of his own. The matter was talked over a good deal, and finally the proprietors of the New York _Herald_ and London _Telegraph_ determined to send Stanley once more into Africa. The vast lake region, embracing some six degrees of longitude, and extending from the equator to fifteen degrees south latitude, had become a region of the greatest interest to explorers. On this vast water-shed lived a mighty population, and these lakes, with the rivers running into and out of them, must furnish the roads to commerce and be the means by which Africa should be lifted out of its barbarism into the light of civilization. The large lakes Nyassa and Tanganika had been more or less explored, but the one possessing the greatest interest, the Victoria Nyanza--on account of the general impression that it was the head of the Nile--was almost wholly unknown. The persistence with which the Nile had mocked all previous attempts to find its source, had imparted a mystery to it and caused efforts to be made to unlock the secret, which were wholly disproportioned to its seeming value or real importance. This lake, therefore, was to be Stanley's first objective point. Livingstone, Speke and Burton, and others had seen it--_he_ would sail around it in a boat which he would take with him. This he had made in sections, so that it could be carried the nearly one thousand miles through the jungles of Africa to its destination. Everything being completed he started on his route, and in the latter part of 1874 found himself once more at Zanzibar, after an absence of four years. Here, in organizing his expedition, he discovered that the builder had made his boat, which he had christened the Lady Alice, a great deal heavier than he had ordered; but he luckily found a man in Zanzibar who was able to reduce its weight so that it could be transported by the carriers. His force consisted in all, of a little over three hundred men, and he took with him several powerful dogs. The interest of this great expedition begins where he struck off from the regular route of the caravans going west, and entered an entirely new country and encountered a new race of people. Instead of moving directly westward, he turned off to the north, and at length reached the western frontier of Ugogo, on the last day of the year 1874. The country at this point stretched before him in one vast plain, which some of the natives said extended clear to Nyanza. He found that his course led him along the extremity of Whumba, which he was glad to know, as he thought his march would now be unmolested. Two days' march brought them to the borders of Usandawa, a country abounding in elephants. Here he turned to the north-west and entered Ukimbu or Uyonzi on its eastern extremity. The guides he had hired in Ugogo to take him as far as Iramba here deserted him. Hiring fresh ones, he continued two days in the same direction, when these deserted him also, and Stanley found himself one morning on the edge of a vast wilderness without a guide. The day before, the guides had told him that three days' march would bring him to Urimi. Relying on the truth of this statement, he had purchased only two days' provisions. Thinking, therefore, that they would be there by the evening of the next day, he thought little of the desertion and moved off with confidence. But the next morning, the track, which was narrow and indistinct at the best, became so inextricably mixed up with the paths made by elephants and rhinoceros, that they were wholly at a loss what course to take. Halting, Stanley sent out men to seek the lost trail, but they returned unable to find it. They then, of course, could do nothing but march by compass, which they did. As might be expected, it brought them, after a few hours' march, into a dense jungle of acacias and euphorbias, through which they could make their way only by crawling, scrambling and cutting the entangling vines. Now pushing aside an obstructing branch--now cutting a narrow lane through the matted mass, and now taking advantage of a slight opening, this little band of three hundred struggled painfully forward toward what they thought was open country, and an African village with plenty of provisions. In this protracted struggle the third night overtook them in the wilderness, and there they pitched their lonely, starving camp. To make it more gloomy, one of the men died and was buried; his shallow grave seeming to be a sad foreboding of what awaited them in the future. The want of provisions now began to tell terribly on the men, but there was nothing to do but go forward, trusting to some break in this apparently interminable wilderness. But human endurance has its limit, and although Stanley kept his little force marching all day, they made but fourteen miles. It was a continual jungle, with not a drop of water on the route. The poor carriers, hungry and thirsty, sank under their loads and lagged behind the main force for many miles, until it became a straggling, weary, despondent crowd, moving without order and without care through the wilderness. The strong endeavored to help the weak, and did relieve them of their burdens and encourage them to hold on, so that most of them were able to reach the camp at night. But in despite of all effort five sick, despairing men, strayed from the path, which was only a blind trail made by those in advance. After the camp for the night was pitched, Stanley sent back scouts to find the wanderers. They explored the woods for a mile each side of the track, but only one man was found, and he fully a mile from the trail and dead. The other four had wandered off beyond reach and were never heard of more. This was getting to be fearful marching--five men in one day was a death-roll that could not be kept up long, and Stanley began to cast about anxiously to determine what step he should next take. There was but one course left open to him, to attempt to retrace his steps was certain death by famine, to advance could not be worse, while it might bring relief, so "push on," was the order, and they did push on, weary, thirsty, starving, and on the fifth day they came to a little village recently established, and which consisted of only four huts, occupied by four men with their wives and children. These had scarcely provisions enough to keep themselves, and hence could give nothing to Stanley's starving men. It was useless to attempt further marching without food, for the men staggered into camp exhausted, and would rather die there than attempt to move again. Stanley's experience had taught him how far he could urge on these African carriers and soldiers, and he saw they had now become desperate and would not budge another inch until they had something to eat. He, therefore, ordered a halt, and selecting twenty of his strongest men, sent them off in search of food. They were to press on to a village called Suna, about thirty miles distant, of which the natives told him, and where they said food was in abundance. As soon as they had disappeared in the forest, Stanley took his gun and strolled out in search of game. But, filled as the country seemed with it, he could find nothing to shoot. One of his men, however, came across a lion's den, in which were two cubs, which he brought to Stanley. The latter skinned them and took them back to camp. As he entered it, the pinched and worn faces of his faithful men, as they sat hungry and despairing, moved him so deeply that he would have wept, but for fear of adding to their despondency. The two cubs would go but a little way toward feeding some two hundred and twenty men, if cooked as ordinary meat, so he resolved to make a soup of them, which would go much farther. But the question was where to get a kettle large enough to make a soup for such a large body of men. Luckily, he bethought himself of a sheet-iron trunk which he had among his baggage, and which was water-tight. He quickly dumped out of it its contents, and filling it with water, set it over a fire which he had ordered to be made. He then broke open his medical stores, and taking out five pounds of Scotch oatmeal and three one-pound tins of _Revalenta Arabica_, he made with it and the two young lions a huge trunk full of gruel, that would give even two hundred and twenty men a good bowl apiece. He said it was a rare sight to see those hungry, famished men gather around that Torquay dress-trunk and pile on the fuel, and in every way assist to make the contents boil, while with greedy eyes, with gourds in their hands full of water, they stood ready to pour it in the moment it threatened to boil over and waste the precious contents. "But," he adds, "it was a rarer sight still to watch the famished wretches, as, with these same gourds full of the precious broth, they drank it down as only starving men swallow food. The weak and sick got a larger portion, and another tin of oatmeal being opened for their supper and breakfast, they awaited patiently the return of those who had gone in quest of food." Stanley's position now became painfully trying. He was five days' march from where he could obtain food, if he attempted to go back. This march, in the present condition of his men, they could never make, and if any did survive, it would be on the terrible condition of the living eating the dead. The only hope lay in reaching supplies in advance. But what if those twenty strong men he had sent on to find them never returned, having been ambushed and killed on the way, or what if they, at the end of several days, returned and reported nothing but an unbroken wilderness and impassable jungle or swamps in front, and themselves famished, ready to die? These were questions that Stanley anxiously put to himself and dared not contemplate the answer. The hours of painful anxiety and suspense, the maddening thoughts and wild possibilities that fire the brain and oppress the heart in such crises as these cannot be imagined, they can be known only by him who suffers the pangs they inflict. This is a portion of the history of the expedition that Stanley can never write, though it is written on his heart in lines that will never be effaced. The empty trunk lay on one side, and the night came down and the stars burned bright and tranquilly above, and all was silent in the wide solitude as Stanley sat and listened for the return of his men. But they came not, and the morning broke and the sun rode the tropical heavens once more in his splendor, but no musket-shot from the forest told of the returning scouts. The weary hours wore on and the emaciated men lay around in silent suffering. To Stanley those hours seemed days. Night again darkened the forest and still no sign of the returning party. Would they ever return? was the terrible question Stanley was perpetually putting to himself, and if not, what desperate movement should he attempt? The third morning broke as calm and peaceful as the rest; he was beginning to despair, when, suddenly, a musket-shot broke over the forest, and then another and another, sending sudden life and activity throughout the despairing camp. The men, as they emerged into view laden with food, were greeted with a loud shout, and the hungry wretches fell on the provisions they brought like ravening wolves. The report of abundance ahead so excited the men that they forgot their feebleness and clamored to be led on that very afternoon. Stanley was quite willing to get away from the jungle, filled with such painful associations, and cheerfully ordered the march, but before they could get away two men breathed their last in the camp and were left to sleep alone in the wilderness. That night they encamped at the base of a rocky hill, from which stretched away a broad plain. The hill, lifting itself into the clear air, and the open plain, seemed like civilization compared with the gloomy jungle in which they had been starving for the last two days, and where they had left two of their number. They awoke next morning cheerful and refreshed. Starting off with the prospect of abundant provisions ahead, they made a steady march of twenty miles and reached the district of Suna in Urimi. Stanley was surprised, on entering the rude village, to see a new type of African life. Men and women of great beauty and fine physical proportions met his astonished sight. They stood before him in all their naked beauty, unabashed: the women bearing children alone wearing a covering of goat skins, designed evidently as a protection against external injury, and not caused by any notions of modesty. Their fine appearance seemed to indicate a greater mental development than any other tribes which they had met. Whether this were so or not, it would be difficult to tell, for they were the most suspicious, reserved people Stanley had ever met, being greatly disinclined to barter provisions, of which they had more than they wanted, for cloth and beads, of which they apparently had none. They had no chief, but seemed to be governed in their actions by the old men. With these Stanley therefore treated for permission to pass through their land. It required great tact to secure this, and still more to obtain the required food. Stanley bore this silent hostility patiently, for though he could have taken all he wanted by force, he wished to avoid all violence. While lingering here, two more of his exhausted company gave out and died, while his sick list swelled up to thirty. Among the latter was Edward Pocoke, whom, with his brother, Stanley had engaged in England to accompany him as attendants. This compelled him to halt for four days, but finding that the hostile feeling of the natives increased the longer he stayed, he determined, dangerous as it was to the sick, especially to Pocoke, to leave. Dysentery and diarrhoea were prevailing to an alarming extent, and rest was especially necessary for these, if they hoped to recover; but he was afraid matters would become dangerously complicated if he remained, and he turned his soldiers into carriers and slung the sick into hammocks. Encouraging them with the prospect of plenty and comfort ahead, he gave the order to march, and they passed out and entered upon a clear, open and well cultivated country. Reaching a village at 10 o'clock they halted, and here, to the great grief of all, young Pocoke breathed his last. In speaking of this sad event, which cast a gloom over the camp, Stanley says: "We had finished the four hundredth mile of our march from the sea and had reached the base of the water-shed, where the trickling streams and infant waters began to flow Nile-ward, when this noble young man died." They buried him at night under a tree, with the stars shining down on the shallow-made grave; Stanley reading the burial service of the Church of England over the body. Far from home and friends in that distant lonely land he sleeps to-day, a simple wooden cross marking his burial place. Stanley sent the following letter home to the young man's father, describing his sickness and death: "KAGEHYI, ON THE VICTORIA NYANZA, "March 4th, 1875. "DEAR SIR: A most unpleasant, because sad, task devolves upon me, for I have the misfortune to have to report to you the death of your son Edward, of typhoid fever. His service with me was brief, but it was long enough for me to know the greatness of your loss, for I doubt that few fathers can boast of such sons as yours. Both Frank and Ted proved themselves sterling men, noble and brave hearts and faithful servants. Ted had endeared himself to the members of the expedition by his amiable nature, his cheerfulness, and by various qualifications which brought him into high favor with the native soldiers of this force. "Before daybreak we were accustomed to hear the cheery notes of his bugle, which woke us to a fresh day's labor; at night, around the camp-fires, we were charmed with his sweet, simple songs, of which he had an inexhaustible _répertoire_. When tired also with marching, it was his task to announce to the tired people the arrival of the vanguard at camp, so that he had become quite a treasure to us all; and I must say, I have never known men who could bear what your sons have borne on this expedition so patiently and uncomplainingly. I never heard one grumble either from Frank or Ted; have never heard them utter an illiberal remark, or express any wish that the expedition had never set foot in Africa, as many men would have done in their situation, so that you may well imagine, that if the loss of one of your sons causes grief to your paternal heart, it has been no less a grief to us, as we were all, as it were, one family, surrounded as we are by so much that is dark and forbidding. "On arriving at Suna, in Urimi, Ted came to me, after a very long march, complaining of pain in his limbs and loins. I did not think it was serious at all, nor anything uncommon after walking twenty miles, but told him to go and lie down, that he would be better on the morrow, as it was very likely fatigue. The next morning I visited him, and he again complained of pains in the knees and back, which I ascribed to rheumatism, and treated him accordingly. The third day he complained of pain in the chest, difficulty of breathing and sleeplessness, from which I perceived he was suffering from some other malady than rheumatism, but what it could be I could not divine. He was a little feverish, so I applied a mustard-plaster and gave him some aperient medicine. Toward night he began to wander in his head, and on examining his tongue I found it was almost black and coated with dark gray fur. At these symptoms I thought he had a severe attack of remittent fever, from which I suffered in Ujiji, in 1871, and therefore I watched for an opportunity to administer quinine--that is, when the fever should abate a little. "On the fourth day, the patient still wandering in his mind, I suggested to Frank that he should sponge him with cold water and change his clothing, during which operation I noticed that the chest of the patient was covered with spots like pimples or small-pox pustules, which perplexed me greatly. He could not have caught the small-pox, and what the disease was I could not imagine; but, turning to my medical books, I saw that your son was suffering from typhoid, the description of which was too clear to be longer mistaken, and both Frank and I devoted our attention to him. He was nourished with arrow-root and brandy, and everything that was in our power to do was done; but it was very evident that the case was serious, though I hoped that his constitution would brave it out. "On the fifth day we were compelled to resume our journey, after a rest of four days. Ted was put in a hammock and carried on the shoulders of four men. At 10 o'clock on the 17th of January, we halted at Chiwyn, and the minute he was laid down in the camp he breathed his last. Our companion was dead. [Illustration: BURIAL OF EDWARD POCOKE.] "We buried him that night under a tree, on which his brother Frank had cut a deep cross, and we read the beautiful service of the Church of England over him as we laid the poor worn-out body in its final resting-place so far from his own home and friends. "Peace be to his ashes. Poor Ted deserved a better fate than dying in Africa, but it was impossible that he could have died easier. I wish that my end may be as peaceful and painless as his. He was spared the stormy scenes we went through afterwards in our war with the Waturn: and who knows how much he has been saved from? But I know that he would have rejoiced to be with us at this hour of our triumph, gazing on the laughing waters of the vast fountain of the old Nile. None of us would have been more elated at the prospect before us than he, for he was a true sailor, and loved the sight of water. Yet again I say peace be to his ashes; be consoled, for Frank still lives, and, from present appearances, is likely to come home to you with honor and glory, such as he and you may well be proud of. Believe me, dear sir, with true sincerity, your well-wisher, "HENRY M. STANLEY." Stanley still traveled in a northwest direction, and the farther he advanced the more he was convinced that the rivulets he encountered flowed into the Nile, and he became elated with the hope that he should soon stand on the shores of the great lake that served as the head reservoir of the mighty river. Two days' march now brought them to Mongafa, where one of his men who had accompanied him on his former expedition was murdered. He was suffering from the asthma, and Stanley permitted him to follow the party slowly. Straggling thus behind alone, he was waylaid by the natives and murdered. It was impossible to ascertain who committed the deed, and so Stanley could not avenge the crime. Keeping on they at length entered Itwru, a district of Northern Urimi. The village where they camped was called Vinyata, containing some two thousand to three thousand souls, and was situated in a broad and populous valley, through which flowed a stream twenty feet wide. The people here received him in a surly manner, but Stanley was very anxious to avoid trouble and used every exertion to conciliate them. He seemed at last to succeed, for at evening they brought him milk, eggs and chickens, taking cloth in exchange. This reached the ears of the great man of the valley, a magic doctor, who, there being no king over the people, is treated with the highest respect and honor by them. The next day he brought Stanley a fat ox, for which the latter paid him twice what it was worth in cloth and beads, besides making a rich present to his brother and son. To all this man's requests Stanley cheerfully consented in his anxiety to conciliate him and the natives. That day, taking advantage of the bright sun to dry the bales and goods, he exposed his rich stores, an imprudence which he very quickly deeply regretted, for he saw that the display awoke all the greedy feelings of the natives, as was evinced by their eager looks. But the day passed quietly, and on the third morning the great man made his appearance again and begged for more beads, which were given him and he departed apparently very much pleased, and Stanley congratulated himself that he would be allowed to depart in peace. CHAPTER XI. PRESSING TOWARDS THE INTERIOR. For a half an hour after the magic doctor left, Stanley sat quietly in his camp, his anxieties now thoroughly dissipated, thinking over his speedy departure for the Nyanza. The camp was situated on the margin of a vast wilderness, which stretched he knew not how far westward, while away to the north, south and east extended a wide, open plain, dotted over, as far as the eye could see, with villages. There were nearly two hundred of them, looking is the distance like clusters of beehives. Everything was peaceful, and not a sound disturbed the Sabbath-like stillness of the scene, when there suddenly broke on his ears the shrill war-cry, which was taken up by village after village till the whole valley resounded with it. It was one loud "he-hu, he-hu," the last syllable prolonged and uttered in a high, piercing note that made the blood shiver. Still Stanley felt no alarm, supposing that some war expedition was about to be set on foot, or some enemy was reported to be near, and listened to the barbaric cry simply with curiosity. The men in the camp kept about their usual avocations--some fetching water from a neighboring pool, while others were starting off after wood--when suddenly a hundred warriors appeared close to camp in full war costume. Feathers of the eagle and other birds waved above their heads, "the mane of the zebra and giraffe encircled their foreheads, their left hand held the bow and arrows, while the right grasped the spear." Stanley arose, and telling the men not to leave camp nor do anything to provoke a hostile act, waited to see what this sudden warlike attitude meant. In the meantime the throng increased till the entire camp was surrounded. A slight bush fence had been built around it, which, though it concealed those within, was too slight to be of use in case of an attack. Seeing that this hostile demonstration was against _him_, Stanley sent out a young man who spoke their language, to inquire what they wanted. Six or seven warriors advanced to meet him, when a lively conversation followed. The messenger soon returned and reported that they accused one of the party of having stolen some milk and butter from a small village, and they must be paid for it in cloth. He at once sent the messenger back, directing him to tell the warriors that he did not come into their country to rob or steal, and if anything had been taken from them they had but to name the price they asked for it and it should be paid at once. The messenger brought back word that they demanded four yards of sheeting; although this was worth four times as much as the articles were which they alleged had been stolen, he was very glad to settle the matter so easily, and it was measured and sent to them. The elders declared that they were perfectly satisfied, and they all withdrew. But Stanley could not at once shake off the suspicion this unexpected show of hostile feeling had excited, and he watched narrowly the villages in the distance. He soon saw that the warriors were not pacified if the elders were, for he could see them hurrying together from all parts of the plain and gesticulating wildly. Still he hoped the elders would keep them from any overt act of hostility. While he was watching them, he saw about two hundred men separate themselves from the main body, and taking a sweep, make for the woods west of the camp. They had hardly entered when one of Stanley's men rushed forth from the same vicinity into camp bleeding profusely from his face and arms. He said that Suleiman (a youth) and he were gathering wood when the savages came suddenly upon them. He was struck with a stick that broke his nose, and his arm was pierced with a spear, while Suleiman fell pierced with a dozen spears. His story and bloody appearance so excited the soldiers that Stanley could with difficulty restrain them from rushing out at once and attacking the murderers. He did not yet despair of preventing an outbreak, but took care to open the ammunition and be prepared for the worst. He saw at once that an immensely large force could be brought against him, and he must fortify himself or he would be overwhelmed by numbers, and so ordered the men immediately to commence strengthening the fence. They had not been long employed at it when the savages made a dash at the camp, and sent a shower of arrows into it. Stanley immediately ordered sixty soldiers to deploy fifty yards in front. At the word of command they rushed out, and the battle commenced. The enemy soon turned in flight and the soldiers pursued them. Every man was now ordered to work on the defenses; some cut down thorn-trees and threw together rapidly a high fence all around the camp, while others were ordered to build platforms within for the sharp-shooters. All this time Stanley could hear the fire of the soldiers growing more and more indistinct in the distance. When the fence was completed he directed the sections of the Lady Alice to be placed so as to form a sort of central camp, to which they could retire in the last extremity. As soon as everything was finished he ordered the bugle to sound the retreat, and soon the skirmishers came in sight. They reported fifteen of the enemy killed. All had fought bravely, even a bull-dog had seized a savage and was tearing him to pieces, when a bullet put the poor wretch out of his misery. They were not molested again that day, which gave them time to make their position still stronger. The night passed quietly, and they were allowed to breakfast in peace. But about 9 o'clock the savages in great numbers advanced upon the camp. All hopes of peace were now at an end, and since he was forced to fight, Stanley determined to inflict no half-way punishment, but sweep that fair valley with the besom of destruction. He therefore selected four reliable men, placed them at the head of four detachments, assigning to each a fleet runner, whose duty it was, not to fight, but to report any disaster that threatened or befell the detachment to which the man belonged. He then ordered them to move out and attack the savages. As the route of the enemy was certain, he directed them to pursue them separately, yet keep before them as the place of final rendezvous, some high rocks five miles distant down the valley. The detachments poured forth from the camp, and the deadly fire-arms so appalled those savage warriors, armed only with the bow and spear, that they at once turned and fled. The detachments followed in hot pursuit, and what promised to be a fight, became a regular stampede. But one detachment having pursued a large force of the enemy into the open plain, the latter turned at bay. The leader of the detachment, excited by the pursuit, and believing, in his contempt for the savages, that the mere sight of his little band would send them scurrying away in deadly fear, charged boldly on them. Quick as thought they closed around him in overwhelming numbers. The runner alone escaped and bore the sad tidings to Stanley. The appointment of these runners shows his wonderful prevision--that foresight which on many occasions alone saved him. He at once sent assistance to the detachment that the courier had reported surrounded. Alas, before it arrived every man had been massacred. The aid, though it came too late to save the brave detachment, arrived just in time to save the second, which was just falling into the same snare, for the large force that had annihilated the first had now turned on this, and its fate seemed sealed. The reinforcements hurried off by Stanley found it completely hemmed in by the savages. Two soldiers had already been killed, the captain was wounded, and in a few minutes more they would have shared the fate of the first detachment. It was at this critical moment they arrived, and suddenly pouring a deadly volley into the rear of the assailants, sent them to the right about with astonishing quickness. The two detachments now wheeled and poured a concentrated volley into the savages, which sent them flying wildly over the plain. A swift pursuit was commenced, but the fleet enemy could not be overtaken, and the march up the valley was scarcely resisted. Stanley, in camp, carefully watched the progress of the fight, which could be distinguished at first by the volleys of his soldiers, and when, receding in the distance, these could be no longer heard, by the puffs of smoke which showed where the pursuit led. But at length clouds of smoke of a different character began to ascend from the quiet valley. To the right and left the dark columns obscured the noonday sun, and far as the eye could reach, the plain, with its hundreds of villages of thatched huts, presented one wide conflagration, till the murky mass of cloudy vapor, as it rolled heavenward, made it appear like a second Sodom, suffering the vengeance of heaven. To the distance of eight miles, Stanley could see jets of smoke that told of burning villages. He had delayed to the last moment hostile action, but having once commenced it he meant to leave behind him no power of retaliation. It was a victorious but sad day, and the return of the detachments was anything but a triumphal march, for they bore back twenty-one dead men, besides the wounded, while they could report but thirty-five of the enemy killed. So little difference in the number of the slain, when one was the pursued and the other the pursuing party, and when the former was armed only with spears and bows, and the latter with the deadly rifle, seems at first sight unaccountable, but it must be remembered that the unfortunate detachment that was surrounded and massacred to a man, furnished almost the entire list of the killed. The camp was at peace that night, but it was a sad peace. A few more such victories as this and Stanley would be left without an expedition. This unfortunate experience with these people showed the danger of his undertaking a new route. His object was not to travel among new people, but to reach the lake region with his boat and settle great geographical problems and establish certain facts having an intimate bearing on the future of Africa. Yet by his chosen course he really obtained no new and valuable information but imperiled and well-nigh ruined the expedition fitted out with so much expense and care. His was the nearest course to the lake, yet the long one by which Speke reached it was the safest. He had been in a perilous position, and it was clearly his own foresight that saved him. The appointment of a courier or swift runner to each detachment to act as a telegraph, would probably have occurred to few, yet this certainly saved one detachment from destruction and how much more no one can tell. But he was not satisfied with the vengeance he had taken and the devastation he had wrought. He had resolved to teach those savage negroes a lesson on the danger of treachery to strangers, and he meant, now he had commenced it, to make it thorough and complete, and so next morning he sent off sixty men to proceed to the farthest end of the valley, some eight miles away, and destroy what yet remained; passing on through the ruins of the villages, they came to a large village in the extreme northeast. A very slight resistance was made here, and they entered it and applied the torch, and soon it shared the fate of all the rest. Before they destroyed it, however, they loaded themselves with grain. Provisions were now plenty, for the frightened negroes had left everything behind them in their flight. There was no longer any need of purchasing food, the valley was depopulated, and all the accumulated provisions of the inhabitants was at the mercy of the victors. Finding he had enough to last the expedition six days, Stanley next morning started westward before daybreak, and was soon far away from this valley of destruction, leaving the thoroughly humbled natives to crawl back to the ashes of their ruined homes. Without further trouble, in three days, he reached Iramba. Here he halted and took a calm survey of his condition and prospects. He found that out of the more than three hundred men with which he had left the coast, but one hundred and ninety-four remained. Sickness, desertion and battle had reduced his number over a third before he had reached the point where his actual labors were to commence. It was not a pleasant look-out, for, although two hundred men, well armed with rifles, made a formidable force in a country where only arrows and spears were used, still this heavy ratio of loss must stop, or the expedition itself must fail. He was not in a country where he could recruit soldiers, and each one lost was a dead loss, and thousands of miles of exploration lay before him, in prosecuting which, he knew not how many battles would be fought, nor how much sickness would have to be encountered. It would not seem a difficult piece of arithmetical calculation to determine how long three hundred men would last if one-third disappeared in three months, or how many men it would require to prosecute his labors three years. But Stanley never seemed to act as though he thought defeat possible. Whether his faith was in God, himself, or his star, it was nevertheless a strong and controlling faith. Still, now and then it is very evident that he was perfectly conscious of the desperate nature of his condition, and felt disease, which carried off his friends and retainers, or the spear, might end, at any moment, his explorations and his life. Though out of Urimi at last, yet Stanley found the natives of Iramba a very little improvement on those of the former district. Mirambo was their terror, and hence they were suspicious of all strangers. Again and again he was mistaken for this terrible chieftain, and narrowly escaped being attacked. In fact, this formidable warrior was fighting at one time within a day's march of him. Urukuma was the next district he entered after Iramba, and he found it thickly peopled and rich in cattle. It consisted for the most part of rolling plains, with scattered chains of jagged hills. He was on the slope that led to the Nyanza, and the descent was so gradual, that he expected to find the lake, whose exploration he designed to make thorough and complete, comparatively shallow, although it covered a vast area. At last he reached a little village, not a hundred yards from the shore, and encamped. At this point he describes the topography of the new country he had passed over. He says: "As far as Western Ugogo I may pass over without attempting to describe the country, as readers may obtain a detailed account of it from 'How I Found Livingstone.' Thence north is a new country to all, and a brief description of it may be interesting to students of African geography. "North of Mizanza a level plain extends as far as the frontier of Urandawi, a distance of thirty-five miles (English). At Mukondoku the altitude, as indicated by two first-rate aneroids, was two thousand, eight hundred feet. At Mtiwi, twenty miles north, the altitude was two thousand eight hundred and twenty-five feet. Diverging west and north-west, we ascend the slope of a lengthy mountain-wall, apparently, but which, upon arriving at the summit, we ascertain to be a wide plateau covered with forests. This plateau has an altitude of three thousand eight hundred feet at its eastern extremity; but, as it extends westward it rises to a height of four thousand five hundred feet. It embraces all Uyanzi, Unyanyembe, Usukuma, Urimi and Iramba--in short, all that part of Central Africa lying between the valley of the Rufiji south and the Victoria Nyanza north, and the mean altitude of this broad upland cannot exceed four thousand five hundred feet. From Mizanza to the Nyanza is a distance of nearly three hundred geographical miles; yet, at no part of this long journey did the aneroids indicate a higher altitude than five thousand one hundred feet above the sea. "As far as Urimi, from the eastern edge of the plateau, the land is covered with a dense jungle of acacias, which, by its density, strangles all other species of vegetation. Here and there, only in the cleft of a rock, a giant euphorbia may be seen, sole lord of its sterile domain. The soil is shallow, and consists of vegetable mould, mixed largely with sand and detritus of the bare rocks, which crown each knoll and ridge, and which testify too plainly to the violence of the periodical rains. "In the basin of Matongo, in Southern Urimi, we were instructed by the ruins and ridges, relics of a loftier upland, of what has been effected by nature in the course of long ages. No learned geological savant need ever expound to the traveler who views these rocky ruins, the geological history of this country. From a distance we viewed the glistening naked and riven rocks as a singular scene; but when we stood among them, and noted the appearance of the rocky fragments of granite, gneiss and porphyry peeled as it were rind after rind, or leaf after leaf, like an artichoke, until the rock was wasted away, it seemed as if Dame Nature has left these relics, these hilly skeletons, to demonstrate her laws and career. It seemed to me as if she said, 'Lo, and behold this broad basin of Matongo, with its teeming villages and herds of cattle and fields of corn, surrounded by these bare rocks--in primeval time this land was covered with water, it was the bed of a vast sea. The waters were dried, leaving a wide expanse of level land, upon which I caused heavy rains to fall five months out of each year during all the ages that have elapsed since first the hot sunshine fell upon the soil. The rains washed away the loose sand and made deep furrows in course of time, until in certain places the rocky kernel under the soil began to appear. The furrows became enlarged, the waters frittered away their banks and conveyed the earth away to lower levels, through which it wore away a channel, first through the soil and lastly through the rock itself, which you may see if you but walk to the bottom of that basin. You will there behold a channel worn through the solid rock some fifty feet in depth; and as you look on that you will have some idea of the power and force of the tropical rains. It is through that channel that the soil robbed from these rocks has been carried away toward the Nyanza to fill its depths and in time make dry land of it. Now you may ask how came these once solid rocks, which are now but skeletons of hills and stony heaps, to be thus split into so many fragments? Have you never seen the effect of water thrown upon lime? The solid rocks have been broken or peeled in an almost similar manner. The tropic sun heated the face of these rocks to an intense heat, and the cold rain falling upon the heated surface caused them to split and peel as you see them.' "This is really the geological history of this region simply told. Ridge after ridge, basin after basin, from Western Ugogo to the Nyanza, tells the same tale; but it is not until we enter Central Urimi, that we begin to marvel at the violence of the process by which nature has transformed the face of the land. For here the perennial springs and rivulets begin to unite and form rivers, after collecting and absorbing the moisture from the water-shed; and these rivers, though but gentle streams during the dry season, become formidable during the rains. It is in Central Urimi that the Nile first begins to levy tribute upon Equatorial Africa, and if you look upon the map and draw a line east from the latitude of Ujiji to longitude thirty-five degrees you will strike upon the sources of the Leewumbu, which is the extreme southern feeder of the Victoria Nyanza. "In Iramba, between Mgongo Tembo and Mombiti, we came upon what must have been in former times an arm of the Victoria Nyanza. It is called the Lumamberri Plain, after a river of that name, and is about forty miles in width. Its altitude is three thousand seven hundred and seventy-five feet above the sea and but a few feet above Victoria Nyanza. We were fortunate in crossing the broad, shallow stream in the dry season, for during the _masika_ or rainy season the plain is converted into a wide lake. "The Leewumbu River, after a course of a hundred and seventy-five miles, becomes known as the Monaugh River, in Usukuma. After another run of a hundred miles, it is converted into Shimeeyu, under which name it enters the Victoria east of this port of Kagehyi. Roughly the Shimeeyu may be said to have a length of three hundred and fifty miles." CHAPTER XII. EXPLORATION OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA. Stanley felt, as he stood and looked off on the broad expanse of water, like one who had achieved a great victory, and he said that the wealth of the universe could not then bribe him to turn back from his work. The boat of a white man had never been launched on its surface, and he longed to see the Lady Alice afloat, that he might change the guesses of Livingstone, Speke and others, into certainty. He had started to complete Livingstone's unfinished work, and now he was in a fair way to do it. How much Cameron, who was somewhere in the interior on the same mission, had accomplished, he did not know, he only knew that with no boat at his command, like the Lady Alice, that he had transported through so many hundreds of miles of jungle, his movements would be very much crippled. He now mustered his entire force, to see what he had to rely on before setting out, and found it to consist of three white men and one hundred and six Wanguana soldiers, twenty-eight having died since leaving Itwru thirty days before, or at an average of nearly one a day. This was a gloomy prospect. Before beginning his real work one-half of his entire expedition had disappeared. Dysentery had been the great scourge that had thinned their ranks so fearfully. Stanley in the first place was not a physician, while even those remedies which ordinarily might have proved efficacious were rendered well-nigh useless by the necessity of constant marching. Rest alone would have cured a great many, but he felt compelled to march. Whether the necessity for marching with the rapidity he did, was sufficiently urgent to justify him in sacrificing so many lives, he doubtless is the best judge. These poor men were not accustomed to travel at the rate he kept them moving. Had they marched as leisurely as an Arab caravan, they would have been nine months or a year in making the distance which Stanley had accomplished in the short space of one hundred and three days. He was at last on the lake that Baker hoped to reach with his steam vessels, and here he expected to meet Gordon, his successor, but he evidently had not yet arrived, for the natives told him that no boats had been seen on the water. They related strange tales, however, of the people inhabiting the shores. One told him of a race of dwarfs, another of a tribe of giants, another still of a people who kept a breed of dogs so large that even Stanley's mastiffs were small in comparison. How much or little of this was true, he, of course, could not tell, still it excited his curiosity, and increased his desire to explore the country. He reached the lake on the 28th of February, and in eight days had everything ready, and launched his boat. He selected ten good oarsmen, who, with the steersman and himself, composed the boat's crew, and the whole force with which he was to overcome all the difficulties that he might encounter. The camp was left in charge of Frank Pocoke and young Barker. Naming the large body of water, into which the Shimeeyu and Ruano Rivers flowed, Speke Bay, in honor of the distinguished explorer, he sailed east along the irregular coast. To-day passing a district thinly populated, to-morrow a rugged hill country, through which the elephants wandered in immense droves, and of course, thronged with elephant hunters, he passed various tribes, until he came to the mouth of the Ruano River, discharging a large volume of water into Speke Bay, but nothing in comparison with the Shimeeyu and the Kagera, the two great river supplies of the lake. The former is the largest of all, and at its mouth a mile wide. Its length is three hundred and seventy miles and is, he says, the extreme southern source of the Nile. The water he named Speke Bay is on the northeastern side, and where he crossed it about twelve miles wide. Sterile plains succeeded barren mountains, thin lines of vegetation along the borders of the lake alone giving space for cultivation, came and went until they reached the great island of Ukerewe, divided from the mainland only by a narrow channel. This was a true oasis, for it was covered with herds of cattle, and verdue, and fruits, and rich in ivory. He found the king an amiable man, and his subjects a peaceful, commercial people. Although this was a large island, more than forty miles long, the king owned several of the neighboring islands. Nothing of importance occurred on this voyage, as day after day they wound in and out along the deeply corrugated coast or sailed by islands, the people on shore all being friendly. They at length came in sight of the high table-land of Majita, which Speke thought to be an island, but which Stanley demonstrated, by actual survey, to be only a promontory. It rises some three thousand feet above the level of the lake, and is surrounded by low brown plains, which, to the distant observer, resemble water. Stanley continued his course along the eastern shore of the lake, proceeding northerly, and at last reached the coast of the Uriri country, a district of pastoral land dotted over with fine cattle. Bordering on this is Ugegeya, a land of fables and wonders, the "El Dorado" of slave hunters and traders in ivory. It is the natural home of the elephant, which is found here in great numbers. In crossing a broad bay he first got sight of it, rising in a series of tall mountains before him. From their base the country rolls away to the east in one vast plain twenty-five miles wide, over which roam great herds of cattle, getting their own living and furnishing plenty of meat to the indolent inhabitants. Stanley constantly inquired of the natives concerning the country inland, its character and people, and was told many wonderful stories, in which it was impossible to say how much fable was mixed. Among other things, they reported that about fifteen days' march from this place, were mountains that spouted forth fire at times and smoke. Keeping north, he says: "We pass between the Island Ugingo and the gigantic mountains of Ugegeya, at whose base the Lady Alice seems to crawl like a mite in a huge cheese, while we on board admire the stupendous height, and wonder at the deathly silence which prevails in this solitude, where the boisterous winds are hushed and the turbulent waves are as tranquil as a summer dream. The natives, as they pass, regard this spot with superstition, as well they might, for the silent majesty of these dumb, tall mounts awes the very storms to peace. Let the tempests bluster as they may on the spacious main beyond the cape, in this nook, sheltered by tall Ugingo isle and lofty Goshi in the mainland, they inspire no fear. It is this refuge which Goshi promises the distressed canoemen that causes them to sing praises of Goshi, and to cheer one another when wearied and benighted, that Goshi is near to protect them." Sailing in and out among the clustering islands, they see two low isolated islands in the distance, and make toward them to camp there for the night. "There," says Stanley, "under the overspreading branches of a mangrove tree we dream of unquiet waters, and angry surfs, and threatening rocks, to find ourselves next morning tied to an island, which, from its peculiarity, I called Bridge Island. While seeking a road to ascend the island, to take bearings, I discovered a natural bridge of basalt, about twenty feet in length and twelve in breadth, under which one might repose comfortably, and from one side see the waves lashed to fury and spend their strength on the stubborn rocks, which form the foundation of the arch, while from the other we could see the boat, secure under the lee of the island, resting on a serene and placid surface, and shaded by mangrove branches from the hot sun of the equator. Its neighborhood is remarkable only for a small cave, the haunt of fishermen." After taking a survey of the neighboring mainland, he hoisted sail and scudded along the coast before a freshening breeze. At noon he found himself, by observation, to be under the equator. Seeing an opening in the lake that looked like the mouth of a river, he sailed into it to find it was only a deep bay. Coming in sight of a village, he anchored near it and tried to make friends with some wild-looking fishermen on the shore, but the naked savages only "stared at them from under penthouses of hair, and hastily stole away to tell their families of the strange apparition they had seen." This sail of one hundred miles alone the coast of this vast lake, though somewhat monotonous and tame in its details to the reader, furnished one of the most interesting episodes in Stanley's life--not because the scenery was new and beautiful, but because he, with his white sail, and fire-arms, and strange dress, was as strange and wonderful to these natives as was Columbus, with his ship, and cannon, and cavaliers to the inhabitants of the New World. Though often differing in appearance, and language, and manner, they were almost uniformly friendly, and in the few cases where they proved hostile, they were drunk, which makes civilized men, as well as savages, quarrelsome. It was frequently very difficult to win their confidence, and often Stanley would spend hours in endeavoring to remove their suspicions. In this wild, remote home, their lives pass on without change, each generation treading in the footsteps of the preceding one--no progress, no looking forward to increased knowledge or new developments. There were no new discoveries to arouse their mental faculties, no aspirations for a better condition, and they were as changeless as their tropical climate. Hence, to them the sudden appearance of this strange phenomenon on their beautiful lake could not be accounted for. It had seemingly dropped from the clouds, and at the first discharge of a pistol they were startled and filled with amazement. Stanley, whether rowing or sailing, kept close to the shore, that nothing worthy of note should escape him, frequently landing to ascertain the name of the district he was in, the bays he crossed, the mountains he saw, and the rivers that emptied into the lake. In short, he omitted nothing which was necessary to a complete survey and knowledge of this hitherto unknown body of water. After leaving this bay, they came in a short time to a river which was full of hippopotami. Two huge fellows swam so near the boat that Stanley was afraid they would attack it, and ordered the men to pull away from them. Although hunting these huge beasts might be very exciting sport, and a tolerably safe one in boats properly built, to expose the Lady Alice, with her slender cedar sides, to their tusks would have been a piece of folly close akin to madness. Her safety was of more consequence than all the hippopotami in Africa. He was an explorer, not a hunter; and to risk all the future of the former to gratify the pleasure of the latter would have shown him unfit to command so important an expedition as this. Like the boat that carried Cæsar and his fortunes, the Lady Alice bore in her frail sides destines greater than the imagination can conceive. So hoisting sail they caught the freshening breeze and flew along the ever-changing shore lined with villages, out of which swarmed a vast crowd of people, showing a much more densely populated district than they had yet seen. He found the name of it to be Mahita; and wishing to learn the names of some of the villages he saw, the boat was turned toward shore and anchored within fifty yards of it, but with a cable long enough to let them drift to within a few feet of it. Some half a dozen men wearing small shells above their elbows and a circle round their heads came down to the beach, opening a conversation with them. Stanley learned the name of the country, but they refused to tell him anything more till he landed. While getting ready to do so, he noticed the numbers on the shore increased with astonishing rapidity, and seemed to be greatly excited. This aroused his suspicions, and he ordered the rowers to pull off again. It was lucky he did, for he had scarcely put three lengths between him and the shore, when suddenly out of the bushes on each side of the spot where he was to land arose a forest of spears. Stanley did not intend to go away entirely, but lie off till they became less excited, but this evidence of treachery caused him to change his mind, and he ordered the sail to be hoisted, and moved away toward a point at the mouth of the cove, which, with the wind as it was blowing, they could but little more than clear. The negroes seeing this, sent up a loud shout, and hurried off to reach it before the boat did. Stanley penetrating their design, ordered the sail to be lowered and the rowers to pull dead to windward. The discomfited savages looked on in amazement to see the prize slip through their fingers so easily. It was a narrow escape, for had Stanley landed, he would doubtless have been overpowered and killed before he could use his weapons. It was now late in the afternoon, and the savages made no attempt to follow them, and at dusk, coming to a small island, they tied up and camped for the night, lulled to sleep by the murmur of the waves on the beach. The next day continuing their course, they at last sailed into the bay, which forms the northeastern extremity of the Victoria Nyanza. The eastern side of this bay is lined with bold hills and ridges, but at the extreme end where the Tagama River comes in, the country is flat. The expedition now began to move westward in its slow circumnavigation of the lake, and came at length to Muiwanda. Here they found the savages friendly, and they landed and obtained from them, at fair prices, such provisions and vegetables as they desired. They also gave Stanley all the information they could of the neighboring country. They told him that the name of the bay in which they rode, and which was the extreme northern limit of the lake, was Baringo. They had evidently not been great travelers or much visited by any tribes living away from their own coast, for they said that they had never heard of any other lake, great or small, except that one--the Nyanza. Considering that this whole central region of Africa is dotted with lakes, and that the Tanganika, an inland sea, is not three hundred miles distant, it is evident they must live very much isolated from any but their own people. Stanley had now surveyed the southern, eastern and northeastern shores of the lake, and had taken thirty-seven observations and entered almost every nook and cove of this vast body of water. He had corrected the map of Speke, made on the report of the natives--proved that he was wrong in his latitude of the lake, and taken such ample notes that he could make out an accurate chart of that portion he had thus traversed. He makes the extreme eastern point of the lake end in 34° 35' east longitude, and 33' 43" north latitude. After he had finished his exploration thus far, Stanley went over his route, to gain a general knowledge of the country, the location and approximate size of the various districts, and general character of the inhabitants. The north shore he found indented with deep bays, and so completely land-locked, that they might easily be mistaken for separate lakes, while the islands clustered so thickly and closely to the shore that unless thoroughly examined, would be taken for portions of the mainland. But Stanley has traced it out so plainly, that the outline of the shore is as distinct as that of Lake Ontario. CHAPTER XIII. EXPLORATION OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA. The voyage continued along the northern and then along the western shore of the lake, revealing at almost every turn new features of scenery and some new formation of land or new characteristic of the people, till the journey was like an ever-shifting kaleidoscope. A tribe friendly and trusting would be succeeded by one suspicious or treacherous, so that it was impossible to be governed by any general rule, and Stanley was compelled to be constantly on the alert, watching the motions of each tribe without reference to the actions of the last, and laying his plans accordingly. He continued his course down the western shore toward his camp from which he started, finding this side more densely populated than the others, and the tribes that occupied it of a more independent, fearless character, and more inclined to hostilities. At Uvuma, an independent country and the largest on the Victoria Nyanza, the hostility took a more determined form. The natives made signs of friendship to induce Stanley's party to come near the shore. They did so, sailing up to within a few yards of it. At that point a large number of natives were hid behind the trees, who suddenly emerged and hurled a shower of huge stones at the boat in order to sink it. Stanley instantly ordered the helm to be put hard up, and the boat was quickly steered away from the dangerous spot, but not before Stanley, enraged at this act of treachery, leveled his revolver at the wretches and dropped one of them. Going on some miles farther, they entered a channel between some islands and the shore, where they discovered a fleet of canoes, thirteen in number, with over one hundred warriors in them, armed with shells, and spears, and slings. The foremost one had some sweet potatoes aboard, which one of the natives held up as though he wished to trade. Stanley ordered the crew to cease rowing, but as the breeze was light the sail was kept up, and the progress was so slow that this canoe soon came up. While he was bargaining for the potatoes, the other boats approached and completely surrounded the Lady Alice and began to reach over and seize everything they could lay hands on. Stanley warned them away with his gun, when they jeered at him and immediately seized their spears, while one man held up a string of beads he had stolen and dared Stanley to catch him. With that promptness which has many a time saved his life, the latter drew his revolver and shot the villain dead. Spears instantly flashed in the air, but Stanley seizing his repeating rifle poured shot after shot into them, knocking over three of them in as many seconds, when the amazed warriors turned in flight. He then seized his elephant rifle and began to pour its heavy shot into their canoes, throwing them into the wildest confusion. As they now continued on their way, an occasional shot from the big gun waked the echoes of the shore to announce beforehand what treatment treachery would receive. As they kept on to the northward, they felt the current drawing them on, and soon they came to the Ripon Falls, their foam and thunder contrasting strangely with the quietness of the lake a short time before, and the silence and tranquility of the scene. It was the Nile starting on its long journey to the Mediterranean, fertilizing Egypt in its course. Coasting westerly, they came to the island of Krina, where they obtained guides to conduct them to King Mtesa, the most renowned king of the whole region. Sending messengers to announce to the king his arrival, Stanley continued to coast along Uganda, everywhere treated with kindness, so far as words went, but very niggardly in fact. He here observed a curious phenomenon. He discovered an inlet in which there was a perceptible tide, the water flowing north for two hours and then south for the same length of time. On asking the guides if this was usual, they said yes, and it was common to all the inlets on the coast of Uganda. At Beya they were welcomed by a fleet of canoes sent to conduct them to the king. On the 4th of April, Stanley landed, amid the waving of flags, volleys of musketry and shouts of two thousand people, assembled to receive him. The chief officer then conducted him to comfortable quarters, where, soon after, sixteen goats, ten oxen, with bananas, sweet potatoes, plantains, chickens, rice, milk, butter, etc., etc., in profuse quantities were sent him. In the afternoon, the king sent word to his guest, that he was ready to receive him. Issuing from his quarters, Stanley found himself in a street eighty feet broad and half a mile long, lined with the personal guards, officers, attendants and retinue of the king, to the number of three thousand. At the farther end of this avenue was the king's residence, and as Stanley advanced he could dimly see the form of the king in the entrance, sitting in a chair. At every step volleys of musketry were fired and flags waved, while sixteen drums beaten together kept up a horrible din. As he approached the house, the king, a tall, slender figure, dressed in Arab costume, arose and advancing held out his hand in silence, while the drums kept up their loud tattoo. They looked on each other in silence. Stanley was greatly embarrassed by the novelty of the situation, but soon the king, taking a seat, asked him to be seated also, while a hundred of his captains followed their example. [Illustration: RECEPTION OF MTESA'S BODY GUARD, PRIME MINISTER AND CHIEFS.] Lifting his eyes to the king, Stanley saw a tall and slender man, but with broad, powerful shoulders. His eyes were large, his face intelligent and amiable, while his mouth and nose were a great improvement on those of the ordinary negro, being more like those of a Persian Arab. As soon as he began to speak, Stanley was captivated by his courteous, affable manner. He says that he was infinitely superior to the sultan of Zanzibar, and impressed you as a colored gentleman who had learned his manners by contact with civilized, cultivated men, instead of being, as he was, a native of Central Africa, who had seen but three white men before in his life. Stanley was astonished at his innate polish and he felt he had found a friend in this great king of this part of the country, where the tribal territories are usually so small. His kingdom extends through three degrees of longitude and almost as many of latitude. He professes Islamism now, and no cruelties are practised in his kingdom. He has a guard of two hundred men, renegades from Baker's expedition, defalcators from Zanzibar, and the _élite_ of his own kingdom. Behind his throne or arm-chair, stood his gun-bearers, shield-bearers and lance-bearers, and on either side were arranged his chief courtiers, governors of provinces, etc., while outside streamed away the long line of his warriors, beginning with the drummers and goma-beaters. Mtesa asked many intelligent questions, and Stanley found that this was not his home, but that he had come there with that immense throng of warriors to shoot birds. In two or three days, he proposed to return to his capital at Ulagala or Uragara (it is difficult to tell which is right). The first day, for Stanley's entertainment, the king gave a grand naval review with eighty canoes, which made quite an imposing display, which the king with his three hundred wives and Stanley viewed from shore. The crews consisted of two thousand five hundred men or more. The second day, the king led his fleet in person to show his prowess in shooting birds. The third day, the troops were exercised in general military movements and at target practice, and on the fourth, the march was taken up for the capital. In Mtesa Stanley sees the hope of Central Africa. He is a natural born king and tries to imitate the manners, as he understands them, of European monarchs. He has constructed broad roads which will be ready for vehicles whenever they are introduced. The road they traveled increased from twenty to one hundred and fifty feet as they approached the capital, which crowned a commanding eminence overlooking a beautiful country covered with tropical fruit and trees. Huts are not very imposing, but a tall flagstaff and an immense flag gave some dignity to the surroundings. The capital is composed of a vast collection of huts on an eminence crowned by the royal quarters, around which run five several palisades and circular courts, between which and the city runs a circular road from one hundred to two hundred feet in width, from whence radiate six or seven magnificent avenues lined with gardens and huts. The next day, Stanley was introduced into the palace in state. The guards were clothed in white cotton dresses, while the chiefs were attired in rich Arab costumes. This palace was a large, lofty structure built of grass and cane, while tall trunks of trees upheld the roof--covered inside with cloth sheeting. On the fourth day, the exciting news was received that another white man was approaching the capital. It proved to be Colonel Lerant de Bellfonds of the Egyptian service, who had been dispatched by Colonel Gordon to make a treaty of commerce with the king and the khedive of Egypt. This Mtesa, we said, was a Mohammedan, having been converted by Khamis Ben Abdullah some four or five years before. This Arab, from Muscat, was a man of magnificent presence, of noble descent, and very rich, and dressed in splendid Oriental costume. Mtesa became fascinated with him, and the latter stayed with the king over a year, giving him royal presents and dressing him in gorgeous attire. No wonder this brilliant stranger became to such a heathen a true missionary. But Stanley, in a conversation with the king, soon upset his new faith, and he agreed at once to observe the Christian as well as the Moslem Sabbath, to which his captains also agreed. He, moreover, caused the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, and the Golden Rule, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," to be written on a board for his daily perusal. In stating this remarkable fact, Stanley says; "Though I am no missionary, I shall begin to think I may become one if such success is so feasible;" and exclaims, "Oh, that some pious, practical missionary would come here. What a field and harvest, ripe for the sickle of the Gospel. Mtesa would give him everything he desired--houses, cattle, lands, ivory, etc. He might call a province his own in one day." But he says he must not be a theological one, nor a missionary of creeds, but a practical Christian, tied to no church or sect, but simply profess God and His Son, and live a blameless life and be able to instruct the people in building houses, cultivating land, and in all those things that make up human civilization. Such a man, Stanley says, would become the temporal saviour of Africa. Mtesa begged Stanley to tell such men to come, and he would give them all they wanted. The subjects of this heathen king number not far from two millions, and Stanley affirms that one good missionary among them would accomplish more toward the regeneration of Africa in one year than all other missionaries on the continent put together. He suggests that the mission should bring to Mtesa several suits of military clothes, heavily embroidered, pistols, swords, dinner-service, etc., etc. This sounds rather strange to the modern missionary, and seems like trusting too much to "carnal weapons," but it is eminently practical. Anything to give the missionary a firm footing on which to begin his labors is desirable, if not wrong in itself or leading to wrong. For its own use the mission should, he says, bring also hammers, saws, augers, drills for blasting, and blacksmith and carpenter-tools, etc., etc. In short, the missionary should not attempt to convert the black man to his religious views simply by preaching Christ, but that civilization, the hand-maiden of religion, should move side by side with it in equal step. The practical effect of the missionary work, in order to influence the natives, must not be merely a moral change, which causes the convert to abjure the rites and follies of Paganism, but to lift the entire people, whether converted or not to Christianity, to a higher plane of civilization. We know there are different theories on this subject, but we think that Stanley's mode might safely be tried. It was tried, after a fashion, almost immediately, but the station has been broken up and the missionaries murdered. Perhaps it is as good a place here as anywhere to correct a wrong statement that has been going the rounds of the papers, which puts Stanley in a false light. It was not pretended that King Mtesa had anything to do with this outrage, but that a tribe with which Stanley had had a fight, killing some of its number, committed it in revenge for what he did. The truth is, the mission was established by enthusiasts, and some three or four started with false views and hopes entirely. Only two of them reached the ground, one of them not being a minister. They were, however, well received, and allowed to go to work. The king, or chief of a neighboring tribe, had a daughter with whom a native fell in love. This man was repugnant to the father, and he refused to let him have his daughter for a wife. The consequence was they eloped and fled to the island on which the missionaries were stationed, and placed themselves under their protection and remained with them. The enraged savage heard of this, and doubtless believing that the missionaries had connived at the elopement--certainly harbored the fugitives against his wish--attacked the station and murdered the missionaries. How much or how little they were to blame, or, if not guilty of any wrong, how unwisely they acted, they unfortunately do not live to tell us. But Stanley's conduct in that region had nothing to do with the tragedy. It was an act of wild justice by an enraged and savage chieftain, and militates in no way against carrying out the project of Stanley. CHAPTER XIV. EXPLORATION OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA. Though this royal hospitality was very grateful after his long toils, and though intercourse with a white man in that remote land was refreshing, and though he longed to rest, yet Stanley felt he must be about his work. To finish this would require much time, and he had now been long absent from his men, who might prove intractable while he was away, and he was anxious to get back, for the exploration of this lake was only the beginning of what he proposed to do. With two canoes belonging to his friend, King Mtesa, accompanying him as an escort until the grand admiral of his sable majesty, Magassa, who, with thirty canoes, had been detached for his service, should overtake him, he set sail from the river, and camped that night on a smooth, sandy beach, at a point called Kagya. The natives who lived there received them in a friendly, and for African negroes, hospitable manner. Stanley took this as a good augury of the reception he should meet with along the coast of Usongora, which he designed to explore. In the morning he again set sail, and sweeping leisurely along, came in the afternoon to the village of Makongo. As the Lady Alice approached the shore, he saw a crowd of naked savages squatted on the ground, sucking the everlasting pombé, or beer, through a straw, just as white men suck punch or a sherry cobbler. As the boat reached the shore, the chief, with the vacant stare of a drunkard, arose and reeled toward him and welcomed him in a friendly, though maudlin manner. The natives also appeared good-natured and quite content with their arrival. After they had satisfied their curiosity by examining him and his boat, they went away, leaving him to arrange his camp for the night and prepare his supper. The sun went down in glory beyond the purple mountains--a slight ripple dimpled the surface of the lake, while slender columns of smoke ascended here and there along the shore from the huts of the natives; and all was calm and peaceful, though wild and lonely. As night came down, and the stars, one by one, came out in the tropical sky, Stanley and his companions stretched themselves on their mats, and, unsuspicious of danger, fell asleep. About 10 o'clock he was suddenly awakened by a loud and hurried beating of drums, with ever and anon a chorus of shrieks and yells that rung through the clear, still air with a distinctness and sharpness that made the blood shiver. Stanley immediately aroused his men, and they listened, wondering what it foreboded. The lake was still below, and the heavens calm and serene above, but all around it seemed as if demons of the infernal regions were out on their orgies. Stanley thought it was the forerunner of an attack on the camp, but Mtesa's men, the Waganda, told him that the drumming and yelling were the wild welcome of the natives to a stranger. He doubted it, for he had seen too many savage tribes, and knew their customs too well to believe this blood-curdling, discordant din was a welcome to him. It is strange that he did not at once quietly launch his boat and lie off the rest of the night a little way from the shore till morning, and see what it all meant. It would seem that ordinary prudence would have prompted this. His neglect to do so, very nearly cost him his life, and ended there his explorations. For some reason or other, which he does not give, he determined to remain where he was, contenting himself with the precaution of placing his weapons close beside him, and directing his eleven men to load their guns and put them under their mats. He lay down again, but not to sleep, for all night long the furious beat of drums and unearthly yells rang out over the lake keeping him not only awake, but anxious. At daybreak he arose, and as he stepped out of his tent, he started as if he had seen an apparition, for in the gray light of morning, he saw five hundred naked, motionless forms, with bows, shields and spears, standing in a semicircle around him, and completely cutting him off from his boat and the lake. It was a fearful moment, and to his inquiry what it meant, no answer was given. There was no shouting or yelling, none of the frantic gesticulations so common to the African savage. On the contrary, they wore a calm and composed, though stern and determined aspect. Shoulder to shoulder like a regiment of soldiers they stood, the forest of spears above them glittering in the early light. There was nothing to be done--Stanley was entrapped, and with the first attempt to escape or seize his rifle would be transfixed by a hundred spears. It was too late to repent the folly of not heeding the warning of the night before, and so he calmly stood and faced the crowd of stern, malignant faces. For some minutes this solitary white man met glance for glance, when the drunken chief of the day before stalked into the semicircle, and with a stick which he held in his hand forced back the savages by flourishing it in their faces. He then advanced, and striking the boat a furious blow, shouted "be off," and to facilitate matters, took hold and helped launch it. Stanley was only too glad to obey him, and his heart bounded within him as he felt the keel gliding into deep water, and soon a hundred rods were between him and the savages that lined the shore. The Waganda were still on the beach, and Stanley prepared to sweep it with a murderous fire the moment they were attacked. So dense was the crowd of natives, that had he fired at that close range, he would have mowed them down with fearful slaughter. But although there was much loud wrangling and altercation, they were, at length, allowed to embark, and followed him as he sailed away toward the isle of Musua. He had learned a lesson that he did not soon forget. The whole had been a strange proceeding, and why he was not killed, when so completely in their power, can be accounted for only on the ground that they were in Mtesa's dominions, and feared he would take terrible revenge for the murder. Later in the day this drunken chief came to visit him on the island, and demanded why he had come and what he wanted. Being told, he went away, and sent three branches of bananas, and left him and his party to their fate. They rested here quietly till afternoon, when they saw Magassa's fleet coming slowly down the lake, steering for a neighboring island. The canoes were beached and the men disembarked and began to prepare their camp for the night. Stanley was getting impatient at these delays, and thinking he would quicken Magassa's movements by hastening forward, he set sail for Alice Island, thirty-five miles distant. The two chiefs, with the escorting canoes, accompanied him for about a mile and a half, but, getting alarmed at the aspect of the weather, turned back, shouting, as they did so, that as soon as it moderated they would follow. Bowling along before a spanking breeze, the little craft danced gayly over the cresting waves, and when night came down and darkness fell on the lonely lake, kept steadily on and, finally, at midnight reached the island, where they luckily struck upon a sheltered cove and came to anchor. When morning dawned they found they were almost against the base of a beetling cliff, with overhanging rocks all around them, dotted with the fires of the natives. These came down to the shore holding green wisps of grass in their hands as tokens of friendliness. Stanley and his men were hungry, and now rejoiced in the prospect of a good breakfast. But these friendly natives, seeing their need, became so extortionate in their demands that they would not trade with them, and Stanley determined to steer for Bumbirch Island, twenty five miles distant, and there obtain food. The breeze was light and they made slow headway, and it was evidently going to be a long sail to the island. As the sun went down, huge black clouds began to roll up the sky, traversed by lightning, while the low growl of thunder foretold a coming storm. As the clouds rose higher and higher the lightning became more vivid, and the thunder broke with startling peals along the water, and soon the rain came down in torrents, drenching them to the skin. The waves began to rise while darkness, black as midnight, settled down on the lake. The little craft tossed wildly on the water, and the prospect before them looked gloomy enough. Fortunately, about midnight, they came upon Pocoke Island, and anchored under its lee amid thunder and lightning, and rain, and the angry roar of the surf on every side. All night long the flashes lit up the angry scene, while the heavy, tropical thunder shook the bosom of the lake. The haven they had reached was so poor a protection that all hands were kept bailing, to prevent the overstrained boat from foundering at her anchor. We have a very faint idea in our northern latitudes of what a thunderstorm is in the tropics, and the slight affair that Stanley made of it is one of those apparently insignificant, and yet most striking illustrations of his character. Storms on the water--starvation on land--deadly perils of all kinds are spoken of by him as one would speak of the ordinary incidents of travel. He has no time, and apparently no taste, for sensational writing; or perhaps it would be nearer the truth to say--in his cool courage, calm self-reliance and apparent contempt of death he does not see the dramatic side of the scenes in which he performs so important a part. The most tragic events--the most perilous crises are treated by him as ordinary events. An escape so narrow that one's heart stops beating as he contemplates it, he narrates with as much coolness and apparent indifference as he would his deliverance from a disagreeable companion. In the morning, Stanley, as he looked around him and saw the surf breaking on every side, ordered the anchor up and the sail hoisted, for this was too dangerous a place for the Lady Alice. The thunder-storm had passed, and a stiff northeast breeze had sprung up, before which he bowled swiftly along, and in three hours reached the mouth of a quiet cove near the village of Kajuri, at the southeastern extremity of Bumbirch Island. After the storm and peril of the last forty-eight hours, it was a welcome sight that greeted them. The green slopes of this gem set in the sparkling waters were laden with fruits and covered with cattle. Groves of bananas, herds of cattle lazily feeding, and flocks of goats promised an abundance of food; and Stanley and his men, as they drew near the lovely, inviting shore, revelled in anticipation of the rest and good cheer awaiting them. Filled with the most peaceful intentions themselves--their hearts made glad at the sight of the bountiful provisions before them--they did not dream of any hostility, when suddenly they heard a wild, shrill war-cry from the plateau above the huts of the village near the shore, on which were gathered a crowd of excited men. Stanley was surprised at this unexpected hostile demonstration, and halted just as the boat was about to ground, to ascertain what it meant. The savages in the meantime were rushing wildly toward the shore in front of where the boat lay rocking on the water. As they approached, they suddenly changed their warlike attitude, and, ceasing their loud yells, assumed a friendly manner, and invited them to land in tones and gestures so kind and affable that Stanley's first suspicions were at once disarmed, and he ordered the rowers to send the boat ashore. But the moment the keel grated on the pebbly beach, all this friendliness of manner changed, and the naked savages rushed into the water, and, seizing the boat, lifted it up bodily and, with all on board, carried it high and dry on the bank. [Illustration: A TREACHEROUS ASSAULT.] Stanley was terribly aroused at this sudden treachery, and reckless of consequences, determined to avenge it, and twice he raised his revolver to shoot down the audacious wretches, but his crew begged him to desist, declaring earnestly that these people were friends, and that if he would wait a few minutes, he would see that all was right. He accordingly sat down in the stern sheets and waited to see the end. In the meantime, the savages came leaping from the hill-sides, tossing their naked limbs in the air, and uttering loud yells, till a wild, frantic multitude completely surrounded the boat in which Stanley still sat unmoved and calm. The wretches seemed crazed with passion, and poised their spears as if about to strike him, and drew their arrows to the head, one discharge of which would have riddled Stanley, struck the boat by his side with their spear handles, gnashed their teeth, foamed at the mouth, and yelled till their eyes seemed bursting from their sockets. Stanley, however, never moved nor uttered a word. His life did not seem worth a thought in that frenzied, demoniacal crowd. But resistance and expostulation were alike useless, and he could do nothing but wait the final assault, and then sell his life dearly as possible. For some strange, unaccountable reason, their chief, Thekha, kept them from the last act of violence, and at last so quieted them that Stanley calmly asked him how much he demanded to let him go. The most curious part of this whole affair is, that the chief condescended to enter into negotiations with Stanley. Everything the latter had was in the boat, and he had only to give the word, and in five minutes all was his. But instead of doing this, he struck up a bargain with Stanley, and agreed to let him off for four cloths and ten necklaces of large beads. Stanley at once took them from his packages and gave them to him. But no sooner had he received them, than he gave a quick order to his men to seize the oars of the boat. In a twinkling, before Stanley had time to think what they were about, the oars were caught up and carried away. The natives seeing through the treacherous trick, enjoyed it thoroughly, and their loud laughing jeers roused all the devil in Stanley's nature, but he still said nothing. Having got possession of the oars, they thought he was helpless as a tortoise on his back, and became quiet, seemingly enjoying the white man's helplessness. Having no fear of his escape, they at noon leisurely walked to their huts to get their noonday meal, and to discuss what the next move should be. Stanley says he was not idle, he wished to impose on the savages by his indifferent manner, but he was all the while planning how to escape and the best mode of meeting the attack when it came. While the savages were at their dinner, a negress came near them and told them to eat honey with Thekha, as it was the only way to save their lives, for he had determined to kill them and take everything they had. Stanley permitted his coxswain to go to Thekha and make the proposition to eat honey. The wily chief told him to be at ease, no harm was intended them and next day he would eat honey with them. The coxswain returned delighted, and reported the good news. But Stanley checked the confidence of the men, and told them that nothing but their own wit and courage could save their lives. This, he said, was all a trick, the next move would be to seize their guns as they had the oars, when they would be helpless, and by no means to leave the boat, but be prepared to act at any moment when he should give the word. The men saw at once the force of Stanley's suspicions, and kept close by him. Thus nearly three long hours passed away, neither he nor his crew doing or attempting to do anything. But about three o'clock, the war-drums began again their horrid din, and soon the loping, naked savages were seen running from every quarter, and in half an hour five hundred warriors had gathered around the chief within thirty paces of the boat. He was sitting down, and when the warriors were all assembled, he made them an address. As soon as he had finished, about fifty of them dashed up to Stanley's men, and seizing his drum, bore it back in triumph. From some cause or other, this last and apparently most harmless act of all aroused Stanley's suspicions to a point that made him act promptly and decisively. Perhaps it was their scornful, insulting language as they walked off, bidding him get his guns ready, as they were coming back soon to cut his throat. At all events, the moment he saw them approach the chief with the drum, he shouted to his men to push the boat into the water. The eleven men sprang to its sides, and lifting it as if it had been a toy, carried it, with Stanley in it, to the water's edge and shot it, with one desperate effort, far out into the lake and beyond their depth, and where they had to swim for it. Quickly as it was done, the savages instantly detected the movement, and before the boat had lost its headway, were crowding the very edge of the water, to which they had rushed like a whirlwind, shouting and yelling like madmen. Seizing his elephant rifle, Stanley sent two large conical balls into the dense mass with frightful effect. Then pulling one of the men in the boat, and bidding him help the others in, he seized his double-barreled gun, loaded with buck-shot, and fired right and left into the close-packed, naked crowd. It was like firing with small shot into a flock of pigeons, and a clean swath was cut through the naked mass, which was so stunned at the horrible effect, that they ran back up the slope without hurling a spear or shooting an arrow. With the oars gone, the great struggle would be to get out into the open lake, where they could hoist sail; for, this once accomplished, they could bid defiance to their enemies. Stanley knew the first move of the savages would be to man their canoes, which lined the shore, and surround his helpless vessel and overwhelm him. He therefore watched the first movement to launch a canoe, and as soon as a desperate-looking savage made the attempt, he dropped him with a bullet through his body. A second, following his example, fell on the beach, when they paused at the certain death that seemed to await the man who dared to touch a boat. Just then Stanley caught sight of the sub-chief, who commanded the party that took the drum, and taking a cool, deliberate aim at him with his elephant rifle, he sent one of its great conical balls tearing through his body, killing at the same time his wife and infant, behind him. This terrified them, for there seemed something supernatural about this deadly work, and they ceased their efforts to launch the boats, and hastened to get out of the reach of such fatal firing. In the meantime, the men were slowly working the boat toward the mouth of the cove. But, just as they were feeling safe, Stanley saw two canoes, loaded heavily with warriors, push out of a little bay and pull toward him. Putting two explosive shells into his elephant rifle, he waited till they came within the distance where they would be most destructive, and then commenced firing. He fired rapidly, but being a dead-shot, with great accuracy, and the shells, as they struck inside the canoes, burst with terrible effect. Four shots killed five men and sunk both the canoes, leaving the warriors to swim ashore. This ended the fight, and the enraged and baffled crowd vented their fury by shouting out, "Go and die in the Nyanza." Stanley's rapid deadly firing killed fourteen, and wounded with buck-shot eight, which, he coolly remarks, "I consider to be very dear payment for the robbery of eight ash oars and a drum, though barely equivalent, in our estimation, to the intended massacre of ourselves." This cool-blooded treachery and narrow escape roused Stanley's whole nature, and terrible as had been the punishment he had inflicted, he resolved that he would make it more terrible still before he had done with them. During the perils of the next night that followed, he had plenty of time to nurse his wrath. Having got clear of the land, he hoisted sail, and favored by a light breeze, by night was eight miles from the treacherous Bumbireh. A little after dark the breeze died away, and he set the men to paddling. But, their oars being gone, they made slow headway. At sunrise they were only twenty miles from the island, but near noon, a strong breeze springing up from the northwest, they bowled along at the rate of five miles an hour, and soon saw it sink in the distant horizon. At sunset they saw an island named Sousa, toward which they steered, hoping to reach it by midnight and find a safe haven. But about eight o'clock the breeze began to increase till it rose to a fierce gale, and the sail had to be taken in. Being without oars, they could not keep the light boat before the wind, and she was whirled away by it like a feather, and wallowed amid the waves that kept increasing, till it seemed impossible to keep much longer afloat. The men strove desperately with their boards for paddles to reach the island, and get to the leeward of it, till the storm should break, but it was of no avail. They were swept by it like a piece of drift-wood, and the lightning, as it lit up its green sides, seemed to mock their despair. The terrific crash of the thunder, the roar of the tempest, and the wild waste of the wrathful water as it was incessantly lit up by the blinding flashes, made it the most terrific night Stanley had ever passed in all his wide wanderings. Between the dashing of the waves over the gunwale and the downfalling deluge of rain, the helpless boat rapidly filled, and it required constant and rapid bailing to keep it from going to the bottom. The imagination cannot conceive the terrors that surrounded that little boat with its helpless crew on that storm-swept lake during that long, wild night. Above them, rushed the angry clouds, pierced incessantly by the lightning; the heavy thunder shook the very heavens, while all around them were islands and rocks, and a few miles ahead, the main-land peopled by hostile savages. Yet, amid all their terror, the men worn out with their long fasting and exhausting labors, would drop asleep, till awakened by the stern order to bail. The men of Bumbireh had shouted after them, "go and die in the Nyanza," and they now seemed to be prophetic words. Stanley remembered them, and he lived to make the murderous savages remember them, too. At daybreak the tempest broke, and the waves not having the heavy roll of the ocean, quickly subsided, and they saw they had drifted eight miles off the isle of Susa, which they had made such desperate efforts to reach the night before, while other islands rose in the distance. There was not a morsel of food in the boat, and it was now forty-eight hours since they had tasted any, yet the men took to their paddles cheerfully. Soon a gentle breeze set in from the westward, and hoisting sail, they steered for an unknown island, which Stanley named Refuge Island. It was small and uninhabited, but on exploring it, they discovered that the natives had once occupied and cultivated it. To their great joy, they found green bananas, and a small fruit resembling cherries, but tasting like dates. Stanley succeeded, also, in shooting two fat ducks. The men soon stripped these of their feathers and had them in the pot, with which, and the fruit, they made what seemed to them in their famished condition, a right royal repast. The camp was pitched close by the sandy beach, and when night closed sweetly in on the wanderers, "there were few people in the world," says Stanley, "blessed God more devoutly than we did." And well they might, for their double deliverance from the savages on shore and the tempest on the water, was almost miraculous. They rested here all the next day recruiting, and then set sail, and coming to friendly natives, laid in a supply of provisions. While at anchor, some of the men plucked the poultry they had bought, and they feasted till they were thoroughly satisfied. At midnight, a favorable wind rising, they set sail for Usukuma. About three in the morning they were in the middle of the Speke Gulf, from which they had started nearly two months before, and bound for their camp. The wind had died away, and the water lay calm and unruffled beneath the tropical sky. But this calm was only the prelude to a fearful storm. Clouds, black as ink, began to roll up the heavens, their edges corrugated and torn by the contending forces that urged them on, while out from their foldings the lightning leaped in blinding flashes, and the thunder, instead of rolling in angry peals, came down in great crashes as if the very frame-work of nature was rending, and then the hail, in stones big as filberts, beat down on their uncovered heads. The waves rose to an astonishing height, and tore like wild horses over the lake. The boat became unmanageable, and was whirled along at the mercy of the wind and waves. But the staunch little craft outrode the fury of the gale, with a buoyancy that surprised Stanley. Next morning, although almost under the equator, they saw the day dawn gray, and cheerless, and raw. On taken his observations, Stanley found that he was only about twenty miles northwest of his camp. The news sent new life into the crew. They hoisted sail, and, though at first the wind was unfavorable, yet, as if good luck had come at last, it shifted astern, and, with a full sail, they steered straight for camp--every heart bounding with joy. The men in camp discovered the boat when miles away, and hurrying to the shore sent up shout after shout, and tossed their arms joyfully in the air. As the boat drove swiftly on, the shouts were changed to volleys of musketry and waving of flags, while "the land seemed alive with leaping forms of glad-hearted men." Rumors of their destruction had reached camp, and his long absence seemed to confirm them, and they had made up their minds, that, with their leader lost, they must turn back. As the boat grated on the pebbly shore, fifty men leaped into the water and seizing Stanley lifted him bodily out, and, running up the bank, placed him on their shoulders, and danced around the camp like madmen. They seemed unable to contain their joy. It showed how strong was the hold Stanley had on their affections. Stern in enforcing discipline and relentless in punishing crime, he was always careful of their welfare, attentive to their wants, just in all his dealings, and generous in his reward for good behavior and faithful service, and by this course he had bound these simple children of nature to him with cords of iron. CHAPTER XV. AN INTERVAL OF REST. The next morning, as Stanley looked out of his tent-door upon the broad and beautiful lake, it was with that intense feeling of satisfaction with which one contemplates a great and perilous undertaking, which, after being well-nigh abandoned, is at last successfully accomplished. The waters, glittering in the morning sun, had but a short time before seemed to him an angry foe, but now they wore a friendly aspect. They seemed to belong to him. Livingstone, and Speke, and Burton, and others had looked on that lake, and sighed in vain to solve the mystery that enveloped it, while he had not only followed its winding shores their entire length, but had sounded its depths and fixed its geographical position forever. His toils were over, and the victory won in this his first great enterprise, and he could well look forward with hope to the great work still before him. His escapes had been wonderful, and he might take them as good omens for the future. It seemed as if fate delighted to place him in positions of danger, from which there appeared to be no escape, in order to show her power to save him under any and all circumstances. Even now, when contemplating so satisfactorily his success, he was startled by the narrowness of his escape from a danger of which he had never before dreamed. That trouble, disorder and desertion might befall his camp during his absence he had often feared, but now he was told by the men he had left in charge of it, that in a few hours more the expedition would have broken up and disappeared forever. This was Frank Pocoke's report. He said that a rumor had reached camp that Stanley and his crew had been taken prisoners soon after leaving, and he at once sent off fifty soldiers to effect his release, who found the report false. They had also heard of his fight with the Wamma, and that he was killed. In the meantime a conspiracy had been formed by three neighboring tribes to capture the camp and seize all the goods. It was discovered, and everything put in the best state possible to defeat it, when the whole fell through on account of the sudden death of one of the conspirators and the disaffection of another. With the report of Stanley's death uncontradicted--nay, corroborated by his long absence--and in view of the dangers surrounding them, the soldiers and men held a meeting to determine what course they should take. He had then been gone nearly a month and a half, and it should not have taken more than half that time to have circumnavigated the lake with a boat that, in a fair breeze, could go five or six miles an hour. Something must have happened to him; that was certain; and it mattered little whether it was death or captivity. It was finally decided to wait fifteen days longer, or till the new moon, when, if he did not appear, they would strike camp and march back to Unyanyembe. The fifteen days would have expired the next day after Stanley's arrival. If, therefore, he had been delayed forty-eight hours longer, instead of being received with the waving of flags, shouts and volleys of musketry, and wild demonstrations of delight, there would have been no welcome, but a silent, deserted camp. This would have been a terrible blow, and would have dashed with the bitterest disappointment all the joy at his task successfully accomplished. But he had been saved all this; still one calamity had befallen him for which there was no remedy; young Barker had died only a few days before his arrival, and six of his strong men had fallen victims to dysentery and fever. Thus while in all the danger through which he had passed on the lake he had not lost a man, seven had died while lying idly in a healthy camp. The death of Barker he felt keenly, for of the three white men who had started with him, two had already fallen, and now only one was left. In writing to his mother, announcing his death, and expressing his sympathy with her in her affliction, he thus speaks of the manner in which it occurred: "I was absent on an exploring expedition on Lake Victoria, having left Francis Pocoke and Frederick Barker in charge of my camp. Altogether I was absent fifty-eight days. When I returned, hoping that I would find that all had gone well, I was struck with the grievous news that your son had died twelve days before, of an intermittent fever. What little I have been able to learn of your son's death, amounts to this: On April 22d, he went out on the lake with Pocoke to shoot hippopotami, and all day enjoyed himself. On the morning of the 23d he went out for a little walk, had his tea and some pancakes, washed himself, and then suddenly said he felt ill, and lay down in bed. He called for a hot stone to be put to his feet; brandy was given him, blankets were heaped on him, but he felt such cold in his extremities that nothing availed to restore heat in his body. His blood seems to have become congealed. At eight o'clock, an hour after he lay down, he was dead. Such is what I have been able to glean from Pocoke of the manner of his death. But by our next letter-carrier, Pocoke shall send you a complete account." He then goes on to speak of his excellent qualities and promising future, and his own great loss. One of the curious things that struck Stanley as he looked on his party, was the strange contrast between Pocoke's face and his own. The former being most of the time in camp, had bleached to his old English whiteness, while, under the reflection of the fierce rays of an equatorial sun, he had been burned till his face was the color of a lobster--in fact, the natives had come to call him, not the _pale_, but the _red_-faced man, to which his blood-shot eyes gave a still more sanguinary appearance. Now followed a season of rest and of sweet repose; and how deep and sweet it was, may be gathered from his own language. He says: "Sweet is the Sabbath day to the toil-worn laborer, happy is the long sea-tossed mariner on his arrival in port, and sweet were the days of calm rest we enjoyed after our troublous exploration of the Nyanza. The brusque storms, the continued rains, the cheerless gray clouds, the wild waves, the loneliness of the islands, the inhospitality of the natives that were like mere phases of a dream, were now but the reminiscences of the memory, so little did we heed what was past while enjoying the luxury of a rest from our toils. Still it added to our pleasure to be able to conjure up in the mind the varied incidents of the long lake journey; they served to enliven and employ the mind while the body enjoyed repose, like condiments quickening digestion. It was a pleasure to be able to map at will, in the mind, so many countries newly discovered, such a noble extent of fresh water explored for the first time. As the memory flew over the lengthy track of exploration, how fondly it dwelt on the many picturesque bays, margined by water-lilies and lotus plants, or by the green walls of the slender reed-like papyrus, inclosing an area of water, whose face was as calm as a mirror, because lofty mountain ridges almost surround it. With what kindly recognition it roved over the little green island in whose snug haven our boat had lain securely at anchor, when the rude tempest without churned the face of the Nyanza into a foaming sheet." The lofty rocks once more rose before him in imagination, while the distant hills were outlined against the fervid horizon, and the rich grain fields of some of the districts smiled in the sun. But his memory dwelt with fondest recollection on Uganda and its hospitable King Mtesa, for there, it not only recalled the present, but pictured a glorious future, in which smiling villages took the places of rude huts, from the midst of which church spires rose, and the clear tones of the bell called the dusky inhabitants to the place of worship. As he thus lay dreaming, close by the equatorial circle, he saw the land smiling in affluence and plenty; its bays crowded with the dark hulls of trading vessels, heard the sound of craftsmen at their work, the roar of manufactories and foundries, and the ever-buzzing noise of industry. With these bright anticipations of the future, the happy result of his endeavors, would mingle his desperate encounters with the savages, his narrow escapes, his nights of danger on the tempestuous lake, his wonderful success so near a failure at last--of all these marvelous experiences and events crowded on him as he lay and rested, and dreamed on the shores of the lake that he felt to be his own. If half that he anticipated, as he lay and rested and dreamed, turns out true, his name will be linked with changes that will sink all his great discoveries into nothingness--moral changes and achievements as much above mere material success as mind is above matter--civilization above barbarism--Christianity above Paganism. This successful voyage and safe return inspired the members of the expedition with renewed confidence in their leader, and Stanley soon set about prosecuting the great work to which he had devoted himself, and which, with all its toils and dangers and great sacrifice of life, had only just begun. The Grand Admiral Magassa had not yet joined him. There was no reason he had not done so, except that the fight at Bumbireh and subsequent storm on the lake had sent them wide apart. But he had two of Stanley's best men with him, who would direct him to the camp in Speke Bay, toward which he knew Stanley was working, and where he should have been before this time. The latter waited nine days in camp for him, and then concluding that he did not intend to come at all, resolved to march back overland with his party (as he had no canoes to carry them by water) to Uganda. Just as they were ready to start, there came into camp a negro embassy from Ruoma, which lay between him and Ugondo on the land route, with the following message: "Ruoma sends salaams to the white man. He does not want the white man's cloth, beads or wire, but the white man must not pass through his country. Ruoma does not want to see him or any other man with long red hair down to his shoulders, white face and big red eyes. Ruoma is not afraid of him, but if the white man will come near his country, Ruoma and Mirambo will fight him." "Here, indeed," as Stanley says, "was a dilemma." Mtesa's admiral had proved false to the instructions given him by the king, and no boats had arrived to convey his party to Uganda by water, and now the ruler of the district through which he must pass to reach it by land forbade him to cross it. To force a passage was impossible; for Ruoma, besides having a hundred and fifty muskets and several thousand spearmen and bowmen, had the dreaded Mirambo, with his fierce warriors, within a day's march of him and ready to aid him. Even if he could fight his way across the country, it would be at a sacrifice of life that he could not afford, and which the results he hoped to secure would not justify. Still, he could not give up Uganda, with its half-civilized king, for it was not only the most interesting country that bordered on the lake, but it comprised the unknown region lying between it and Tanganika. If he could only get canoes from some other quarter, he could take his party to Uganda by water; and once there, his friend Mtesa would give him all the aid he wanted. He therefore set on foot inquiries respecting the various tribes bordering on the gulf on which he was encamped, to ascertain the number of canoes each possessed. He found that the king of Ukerewe, the large island lying at the mouth of the gulf, was the most likely person to have the canoes he wanted, and he applied to him. But he was unable to negotiate for them in person, as he was taken suddenly and seriously ill--the result of his long exposure on the lake under an equatorial sun--so he sent Pocoke, with Prince Kaduma, to make proposals for them. These, taking a handsome present for the king, departed. In twelve days they returned with fifty canoes and some three hundred natives under the command of the king's brother; but to convey him and his party to the king, not to Uganda. Stanley's joy at the sight of the canoes was dampened by this request, and he told the king's brother that even if the king would give all his land and cattle, he would not let the expedition go to Ukerewe, but that he himself would go, and the messenger himself might return as soon as he pleased. As soon as he was well enough he set out, and on the second day he reached the island. Knowing how much was at stake, he put on his court costume, which meant the best clothes in his wardrobe, and equipped himself with his best arms, while his attendants bore valuable presents. The next day after his arrival was fixed for the great audience. When the hour arrived Stanley mustered the crew of the Lady Alice, who had been dressed for the occasion, and the bugle sounded the order to march. In ten minutes they came to a level stretch of ground, in the centre of which was a knoll, where the king was seated in state, surrounded by hundreds of bowmen and spearmen. He was a young man, with a color tending more to the mulatto than the negro--possessing an amiable countenance, and altogether he made a favorable impression on Stanley. He was quite a conspicuous object sitting on that knoll in the midst of warriors, for he was wrapped in a robe of red and yellow silk damask cloth. His reception of Stanley consisted in a long, steady stare, but being informed that the latter wished to state the object of his visit to him and a few of his chiefs alone, he stepped aside a short distance to a pile of stones, and invited them to join him. Stanley then stated what he wanted, how far he wished the canoes to go, what he would pay for them, etc., etc. The king listened attentively, and replied in a kind and affable manner; but he said his canoes were many of them rotten and unfit for a long voyage, and he was afraid they would give out, and then he would be blamed and accused of being the cause of the loss of his property. Stanley replied that he might blame the canoes, but not him. At the close of the conference, the king said he should have as many canoes as he wanted, but he must remain a few days and partake of his hospitality. This was given in no stinted measure, for beeves, and goats, and chickens, and milk, and eggs, and bananas, and plantains were furnished in prodigal quantities, together with native beer for the crew. They luxuriated in abundance, and on the fifteenth day the king came to Stanley's tent with his chief counselor, and gave him his secret instructions and advice. He said he had ordered fifty canoes to carry him as far as Usukuma, Stanley's camp, but his people would not be willing to go to Uganda. He, therefore, had resorted to stratagem, and caused it to be reported that Stanley was going to come and live among them. He said that the latter must encourage this report, and when he got to Usukuma, and the canoes were drawn up on shore he must seize them and secure the paddles. Having thus rendered it impossible for them to return, he was to inform them what he intended to do. Stanley having promised to obey his instructions implicitly, the king sent with him his prime minister and two favorites, and he departed, after leaving behind him a handsome present as an earnest of what he would do in the future. The natives bent to their paddles cheerfully, and at length reached Stanley's camp; but instead of fifty, he found there but twenty-three canoes. Though disappointed, he was compelled to be content with these. He accordingly whispered his orders to the captains of his expedition to muster their men and seize the canoes and paddles. This was done, and the canoes were drawn up far on land. The astonished natives inquired the meaning of this, and when told, flew into a furious passion, and being about equal in number to Stanley's party, showed fight. The latter saw at a glance that any attempt to mollify them by talk would be fruitless, and that energetic, prompt measures alone would answer, and he immediately ordered the bugle to sound the rally. The soldiers stepped quickly into line, when he ordered a charge with the muzzles of their guns, and the astonished, duped creatures were driven out of camp and away from the shore. Stanley then held a parley with them and proposed to send them back, and did, or at least a portion of them, in four canoes, which could return and take off the rest. The other canoes he kept, and on the third day started for Uganda with a portion of the expedition, and at the end of five days arrived at Refuge Island. Remembering when he was there before, that the inhabitants of the mainland, which was not more than six miles off, were not kindly disposed toward him, he built a strong camp among the rocks, locating it so that each high rock could furnish a position for sharp-shooters, and in every way he could, rendered it impregnable, in case it should be attacked during his absence. As he had not been able to embark all his expedition and baggage, he now returned for them, reaching his old camp again after an absence of fifteen days. He learned on his arrival that two neighboring chiefs were planning to seize him and make him pay a heavy ransom. He, however, said nothing; spoke pleasantly every day to one of them--Prince Kaduma, and made presents to his pretty wife, and went on loading his canoes. When the day of embarkation arrived, the two chiefs, with a strong force came to the water's edge and looked on moodily. Stanley appeared not to notice it, but laughed and talked pleasantly, and proceeding leisurely to the Lady Alice, ordered the boats crew to shove her off. When a short distance was reached, he halted, and swinging broadside on shore, showed a row of deadly guns in point-blank range of the shore. Taken completely aback by this sudden movement, and not daring to make a hostile demonstration with those guns covering them, the treacherous chiefs let the process of embarkation go on without molestation, and soon the last canoe was afloat and a final good-bye given to the camp, a scornful farewell waved to the disappointed natives on shore, and the little fleet steered for Refuge Island. Rough weather followed, and the rotten canoes gave out one after another, so that he had only fifteen when he reached the island. He found the camp had not been disturbed in his absence. On the contrary, the neighboring kings and chiefs, seeing that his camp was impregnable, had proffered their friendship and supplied the soldiers with provisions. They also provided him with a guide and sold him three canoes. CHAPTER XVI. PREPARATIONS FOR FURTHER EXPLORATIONS. Stanley now rested a few days on this island before beginning his explorations. It was associated in his mind with bitter memories, and, as he wandered over it, he remembered the insults he had received, and his almost miraculous escape from death near it. The treacherous Bumbireh was almost in sight, and it awakened in him a strong desire for revenge, and he determined to visit the island again, and demand reparation for the wrongs he had received, and if it was not given, to make war on them and teach them a lesson on good behavior. So at the end of three days he set sail and camped on Mahyiga Island, five miles distant, and sent a message to the natives saying, that if they would deliver their king and two principal chiefs into his hands, he would make peace with them, otherwise he would make war. This was a cool request, and Stanley himself, suspecting it would be refused, sent a party to invite the king of Iroba, an island only a mile from Bumbireh, to visit him, who, dreading the vengeance of the white man, came, bringing with him three chiefs. On what principle of morals Stanley will justify his course we cannot say, but the moment the king arrived, he had him and his chiefs put in chains; the conditions of their release being that his people should deliver the king of Bumbireh, and two of his principal chiefs into his hands. Although the people of Bumbireh had treated his message with contempt, the subjects of Iroba seized their king and delivered him into the hands of Stanley. The peril of their own king had stimulated them to effort, and Stanley at once released him, while he loaded his new royal captive heavily with chains. He also sent a message to king Antari, on the mainland, to whom Bumbireh was tributary, requesting him to redeem his land from war. In reply, the latter sent his son and two chiefs to him to make peace, who brought a quantity of bananas as a promise of what the king would do in the future. Stanley, in conversing with them, detected them in so many falsehoods, and thinking he saw treachery in their faces, or perhaps it would be more in accordance with truth to say, that having got them in his power, he thought it better to keep them as hostages for the appearance of the two chiefs of Bumbireh, who had not been brought with the king, and he, therefore, did so. In the meantime, seven large canoes of Mtesa came up, which were out on an expedition of the king's. The chief commanding them told Stanley that Magassa had recovered the oars captured at Bumbireh, and that on his returning and reporting Stanley dead, he had been put in chains by Mtesa, but subsequently he had been released and dispatched in search of him. Stanley persuaded this chief, with his canoes, to remain and assist in the attack on Bumbireh, if his followers refused the terms of peace. Two days after, this chief sent some of his men to Bumbireh for food, but they were not allowed to land. On the contrary, they were attacked, and one man was killed and eight were wounded. This gave Stanley another strong reason for making war at once without further negotiations, to which Mtesa's chief gladly consented. Accordingly, next morning, he mustered two hundred and eighty men with fifty muskets, and two hundred spearmen, and placed them in eighteen canoes and set out for Bumbireh, eight miles distant, and reached the island at two o'clock in the afternoon. The natives of Bumbireh were evidently expecting trouble, for they felt sure the attack on the friends of Stanley the day before would be quickly avenged. As the latter, therefore, drew near the shore, he saw lookouts on every eminence. Looking through his field-glass, he soon discovered messengers running to a plantain grove which stood on a low hill that commanded a clear, open view of a little port on the southern point of the island, from which he concluded that the main force of the enemy was assembled there. He then called the canoes together, and told them to follow him and steer just as he steered, and by no means to attempt to land, as he did not mean that one of Mtesa's men should be killed, or, indeed, any of his own soldiers--he intended to punish Bumbireh without any damage to himself. He then ordered his crew to row straight for the port--the other canoes following in close order behind. He managed to keep out of sight of the lookouts; and skirting close to the land, at the end of a little more than a mile, rounded a cape and shot into a fine bay, right in the rear and in full view of the enemy. They were gathered in such large numbers that Stanley saw it would not do to attack them in such a cover, and so steered for the opposite side of the bay, as though he intended to land there, where the sloping hill-sides were bare of everything but low grass. The savages, perceiving this, broke cover and ran yelling toward the threatened point. This was exactly what Stanley wanted, and he ordered the rowers to pull slowly, so as to give them time to reach the spot toward which he was moving. Very soon they were all assembled on the naked hill-side, brandishing their weapons fiercely in the air. Stanley kept slowly on till within a hundred yards of the beach, when he anchored broadside on the shore--the English and American flags waving above him. The other seventeen canoes followed his example. Seeing a group of about fifty standing close together, he ordered a volley to be fired into it. Fifty muskets and his own trusty rifle spoke at once, and with such terrible effect that nearly the whole number was killed or wounded. The natives, astounded at this murderous work, now separated and came down to the water's edge singly, and began to yell and sling stones and shoot arrows. Stanley then ordered the anchors up, and gave directions to move the canoes to within fifty yards of the shore, and each soldier to select his man and fire as though he was shooting birds. The savages dropped right and left before this target practice, but the survivors stood their ground firmly, for they knew if Stanley effected a landing he would burn everything on the island. For an hour they endured the deadly fire, and then, unable longer to stand it, moved up the hill, but still not out of range, especially of Stanley's unerring rifle. Though every now and then a man would drop, they refused to move farther away, for they knew that if they were not near enough to make a dash the moment the boats touched the shore, all would be lost. Another hour was therefore passed in this long-range firing, when Stanley ordered the canoes to advance all together, as if about to make a sudden landing. The savages, seeing this, rushed down the hill-side like a torrent, and massed themselves by the hundreds at the point toward which the canoes were moving, some even entering the water with their spears poised ready to strike. When they were packed densely together, Stanley ordered the bugle to sound a halt, and, as the crews rested on their oars, directed a volley to be fired into them, which mowed them down so terribly that they turned and fled like deer over the hill. Stanley's men had now got their blood up and urged him to let them land and make a complete end of this treacherous people, but he refused, saying that he came to punish, not destroy. They had fired in all about seven hundred cartridges, and as the savages were completely exposed, and in the afternoon, with the sun directly behind the boats, and shining full in their faces, the mortality was great. Over forty were left dead on the field, while the number of the wounded could not be counted, though more than a hundred were seen to limp or to be led away. It was a great victory, and Stanley's dusky allies were in a state of high excitement, and made the air ring with their shouts and laughter, as they bent to their paddles. It was dark when they got back to the island, where they were received with wild songs of triumph. Stanley was a great hero to these untutored children of nature. The next morning more canoes arrived from Uganda, and Stanley prepared to depart. He had now thirty-two canoes, all well loaded with men, which made quite an imposing little fleet as they moved into order on the lake, and constituted a strong force. They sailed close to Bumbireh, and Stanley looked to see what had been the effect of the severe thrashing he had given them the day before. He found their audacity gone, and their proud, insulting spirit completely quelled. There were no shouts of defiance, no hostile demonstrations. Seeing a hundred or more gathered in a group, he fired a bullet over their heads, which scattered them in every direction. The day before they had breasted bravely volley after volley, but now the war spirit was thoroughly cowed. In another place some natives came down to the shore and begged them to go away and not hurt them any more. This gave Stanley an opportunity to preach them a sermon on treachery, and exhort them hereafter to treat strangers who came to them peaceably with kindness. The dead in almost every hut was, however, the most effectual sermon of the two. They camped that evening on the mainland, in the territory of King Kattawa, who treated them in a magnificent style for a savage, to show his gratitude for the punishment they had inflicted on Bumbireh, who had a short time before killed one of his chiefs. They stayed here a day, and then steered for the island of Muzina, where he had last seen Magassa and his fleet. The people were not friendly to him, but they had heard of the terrible punishment he had inflicted on the Bumbireh, and hastened to supply him with provisions. They brought him five cattle, four goats, and a hundred bunches of bananas, besides honey, milk and eggs. The king of Ugoro, near by, also sent him word that he had given his people orders to supply him with whatever food he wanted. Stanley replied that he wanted no food, but if he would lend him ten canoes to carry his people to Uganda, he would consider him as his friend. They were promptly furnished. Mtesa's chief urged him to attack the king, as he had murdered many of Mtesa's people, but Stanley refused, saying he did not come to make war on black people, he only wished to defend his rights and avenge acts of treachery. Five days after he landed at Duomo Uganda, half-way between the Kagera and Katonga rivers, and pitched his camp. He selected this spot as the best place from which to start for the Albert Nyanza, which he designed next to explore. He wanted to see Mtesa, and get his advice as to which was the best route to take, because between these two lakes were several powerful tribes, who were continually at war with the king of Uganda. In summing up his losses during this journey of two hundred and twenty miles by water, he found he had lost six men drowned, five guns and one case of ammunition, besides ten canoes wrecked and three riding asses dead, leaving him but one. He had been gone fifty-six days, and though the distance was but two hundred and twenty miles, a large portion of it had been traversed three times, so that he had really travelled by water over seven hundred and twenty miles. He had bought scarcely any provisions, the expedition subsisting on the corn he bought at the start with one bale of cloth, but considerable quantities of food had been given them. He now resolved, after he had settled his camp, to visit Mtesa again, and consult with him about the aid he could give him to reach Albert Nyanza. This lake was the source of the White Nile, up which Baker was forcing his way, the very year Stanley started on his expedition. Baker hoped to launch steamers upon it, but he failed even to reach it, though he saw its waters, twenty miles distant. Between it and the Victoria Nyanza is an unknown region. The distance from one to the other in a straight line is probably not two hundred miles, though by any travelled route it is, of course, much farther. Nothing is definitely known of its size or shape. Colonel Mason made a partial exploration of it last year, but it still remains a new field for some future explorer, for Stanley failed to reach it if Mason's map is correct. The Victoria Nyanza he computed to contain twenty-one thousand five hundred square miles, and to be nine thousand one hundred and sixty-eight feet above the sea level. There is a large lake almost directly west of the Nyanza called Muta Nzienge, which Stanley conjectures may be connected with the Albert Nyanza. The region around the latter is wholly unknown, except that fierce cannibals occupy its western shore. We say that Stanley did not reach the Albert Nyanza at all, though if it and the Muta Nzienge are one, he did. He inserts in his journal that he reached the shore of the lake, yet by his map he did not. This discrepancy is owing probably to the fact that he thought, when he wrote, that the lake he saw was the Albert Nyanza, and though Colonel Mason explored it partially last year, and makes it an entirely distinct lake, yet Stanley's opinion may still be unchanged. At all events, his map and journal should agree, but they do not, which confuses things badly. His route, as he has marked it down, does not go near this lake. On the other hand, if the Albert and the Muta Nzienge are one, it rivals in length the great Tanganika, which no one, however, thinks it to do. Stanley found Mtesa at war with the Wavuma, who refused to pay their annual tribute. According to his account this monarch had an army with him which, with its camp followers, amounted to a quarter of a million of souls. He remained with Mtesa several weeks, as the war dragged slowly along, and, in the meantime, translated, with the help of a young, educated Arab, a part of the Bible for him, and apparently sent him forward a great way toward Christianity. He at length, after he had witnessed various naval battles that did not seem to bring the war any nearer to a termination, built for the king a huge naval structure, wholly inclosed, which, when it moved against the brave islanders, filled them with consternation, and they made peace. At this point, Stanley makes a break in his journal and devotes nearly a hundred pages to a narrative of Uganda and its king, Mtesa. He gives its traditions, mingled with much fable; a description of its land, fruits, customs of the people--in short, a thorough history, as far as the natives know anything about it. This possesses more or less interest, though the information it conveys is of very little consequence, while it is destitute of any incident connected with his journey. It was now October, and he turned his attention directly to the next scene of his labors--the exploration of the Albert Nyanza. The great difficulty here was to get through the warlike tribes that lay between the lakes and around the latter, of which Abba Rega was one of the most hostile chiefs. This king, it will be remembered, was the great foe of Baker, whom the latter drove out of the country, after burning his capital, and put Rionga in his place. He said then, that this treacherous king had gone to the shores of the Albert Nyanza. By the way, Baker's statement and Stanley's journal, placed together, seem to make it certain that the Muta Nzienge, which the latter reached, and the Albert Nyanza are the same; for, in the first place, it will be remembered, Baker's last journey was to Unyoro, where he saw the Albert Nyanza. Now Stanley, it will be seen hereafter, traverses this same district to reach the lake he called Muta Nzienge. Again, Baker says that Abba Rega fled to the Albert Nyanza, and yet Stanley found him on Lake Muta Nzienge. If Stanley's attention had been called to this, we hardly think he would have made two lakes on his map, when, from these corroborating statements, there could have been but one. The fact that these separate statements, made two years apart, are purely incidental, makes the fact they go to prove the more certain to be true. It seems impossible that Baker and Stanley should reach through the same tribe two large and entirely separate lakes. Knowing not only of the hostility, but also the power of some of the tribes between Uganda and Lake Albert, Stanley asked Mtesa for fifty or sixty thousand men--a mighty army. With such a force he thought he could not only overcome all opposition on the way, but hold the camp he wished to establish, while he spent two months in exploring the lake. But Mtesa told him two thousand would be ample, which he would cheerfully furnish. He said that he need not fear Abba Rega, for he would not dare to lift a spear against his troops, for he had seated him on the throne of Kameazi. Though Stanley was not convinced of the truth of Mtesa's statements, he would not urge him further and accepted, with many expressions of thanks, the two thousand soldiers, commanded by General Lamboozi as an escort. CHAPTER XVII. THE EXPEDITION TO ALBERT NYANZA. Stanley's expedition consisted of one hundred and eighty men, which, with the troops Mtesa gave him, made a total of two thousand two hundred and ninety men. To this little army were attached some five hundred women and children, making a sum total of two thousand eight hundred. With this force, all ordinary opposition could be overcome, and as it moved off with the sound of drums and horns, and the waving of the English and American flags, conspicuous amid those of the negro army, it presented a very animated appearance. But Stanley was destined to find out what others have learned before him, that a small force under one's own immediate command is better than a large, undisciplined one, that is subject to the orders of another. [Illustration: STANLEY'S DASH ACROSS UNYORO] General Lamboozi had no heart in this expedition, and soon showed it. But they moved off gayly over the swelling pasture-lands of Uganda, striking northwest toward the lake, which Stanley hoped to explore, as he had the Victoria Nyanza. The march through Uganda was a pleasant one and they at length reached the frontier of Unyoro and prepared for war. On the 5th of January they entered Abba Rega's territory, whom, two years before, Baker had driven from his throne, and who naturally felt peculiarly hostile to all white men. But no resistance was offered--the people, as if remembering the past, fleeing before them, leaving their provisions and everything behind them, of which the army made free use. Three days after they came to the base of a mighty mountain, called Kabrogo, rising five thousand five hundred feet into the air, presenting, in its naked, rugged outline, a sublime appearance. They encamped that night on a low ridge, in sight of the Katonga River, flowing east in its course to the Victoria Nyanza, bringing up many associations to Stanley's mind--while to the west the Ruanga filled the night air with its thunderous sound, as it tumbled over cataracts toward the Albert Nyanza. From an eminence near by could be seen in the distance the colossal form of Gambaragara Mountain looming up from the wilderness--a second Mont Blanc, rising some three miles into the cloudless heavens. Though under the equator, snow is often seen on its summit. But what gives it peculiar interest is, that on its cold and lonely top dwell a people of an entirely distinct race, being white, like Europeans. The king of Uzigo once spoke to Stanley and Livingstone of this singular people, and now the latter saw half a dozen of them. Their hair, he says, is "kinky," and inclined to brown in color; their features regular; lips thin, and noses well shaped. Altogether, they are a handsome race--the women, many of them possessing great beauty. Some of their descendants are scattered through the tribes living near the base of the mountain, but the main body occupy its lofty summit. The queen of one of the islands in the Victoria Nyanza is a descendent of them. The history of this singular people is wrapped in mystery. There is a tradition that the first king of Unyoro gave them the land at its base, and the approach of a powerful enemy first drove them to the top for safety. They have become so acclimated that they can stand the cold, while the dwellers of the plain are compelled to flee before it. Mtesa once dispatched his greatest general with an army of a hundred thousand men to capture them. They succeeded in making their way to a great height, but finally had to withdraw--the cold became so intense. The retreat of this pale-faced tribe is said to be inaccessible. The top is supposed to be the crater of an extinct volcano; for on it there is a lake nearly a third of a mile long, from the centre of which rises a huge rock to a great height. Around the top of this runs a rim of rock, making a natural wall, in which are several villages, where the principal "medicine-man" and his mysterious people reside in their peculiar separateness. This account, if true, does not touch the origin of this peculiar race of people, nor in any way explain the fact of their existence here in tropical Africa. Two men belonging to this tribe joined Stanley's expedition in this march to the Albert Lake, yet he seems to have obtained no information from them of the history of their tribe. Whether they had any traditions or not we are not informed--we only know that Stanley found them extremely uncommunicative. It is possible they had nothing to tell, for a vast majority of the negro tribes of Africa have no past; they care neither for the past or future, so far as external life is concerned, living only in the present. These two men occupied a high position, for some cause, in the army under Lamboozi, and were the only ones who were allowed more than two milch cows on the route. Various stories about these people were told Stanley, and it is difficult to come at the truth. About the only thing that seems established is that this white race exists, of whose origin nothing definite has as yet been obtained. Stanley says that he heard they were of Arab origin, but there are plenty of Arabs in Africa--in fact, all the soldiers attached to the expedition were Arabs, and colonies of them had long existed in Central Africa; but they are not white men. It seems impossible that Livingstone, years before, should have heard of this singular people, and Stanley seen specimens of them, if no such tribe really existed. It seems almost equally strange that they should be able for centuries to keep so isolated that their very home is a myth. The truth is, that Africa is a land of fables and traditions, that partake of the wonderful and often of the miraculous. Mr. Stanley was told of other tribes of white people living in a remote unknown region, possessing great ferocious dogs, and also of dwarfs of singular habits and customs. These traditions or reports, that are invariably vague in their character, usually have more or less foundation in truth. Mixed with the wonderful, that always holds an important place in savage literature, there will generally be found at least a grain of truth; and the traditions of white races among a people who had never seen white men, could hardly arise if no such tribes existed. The diet of this strange race consists of milk and bananas. Stanley says the first specimen he saw of the tribe was a young man, whom he first took for a young Arab from Cairo, who for some reason had wandered off to Uganda, and taken up his residence with King Mtesa. The two attached to his expedition would easily have been mistaken for Greeks in white shirts. Stanley, after seeing these white Africans, the stories concerning whose existence he had regarded as one of the fables of the ignorant, superstitious natives, says that he is ready to believe there is a modicum of truth in all the strange stories that he has been accustomed to listen to as he would to a fairy tale. Four years previous, while exploring the Tanganika with Livingstone, they both smiled at the story told them of a white people living north of Uzigo, but now he had seen them, and if it were not that their hair resembles somewhat that of the negro, he should take them for Europeans. He heard afterwards that the first king of Kisbakka, a country to the southwest, was an Arab, whose scimiter is still preserved by the natives, and infers that these people may be his descendants. He also heard of a tribe that wore armor and used a breed of fierce and powerful dogs in battle. From this point the expedition moved on toward the Albert Nyanza, along the southern bank of the Rusango River, a rapid, turbulent stream, winding in and out among the mountains, and rushing onward in fierce, rapid and headlong cataracts to the peaceful bosom of the lake. For ten hours they marched swiftly through an uninhabited country, and then emerged into a thickly populated district. Their sudden appearance, with drums beating and colors flying, filled the people, who had no intimation of their coming, with such consternation, that they took to the woods, leaving everything behind them, even the porridge on the fire and the great pots of milk standing ready for the evening meal. Fields and houses were alike deserted in a twinkling, and the army marched in and took possession. Thus far they had met with no opposition whatever, and the warlike tribe Stanley had feared so much, and had taken such a large force to overcome, seemed to have no existence. In fact, the days had passed by monotonously; for the most part the scenery was tame, and the march of the troops from day to day was without incident or interest, and now at this village they were within a few miles of the lake, to reach which was the sole object of all this display of force. Instead of fighting their way, they found themselves in undisputed possession of a large and populous district, with not a soul to give them any information. We confess there is something about this journey from the Victoria Nyanza to the Albert that we do not understand. By the route on the map it must have been nearly two hundred miles, and yet the expedition started on January 5th, and on the evening of the 9th was within three miles of the latter, which would make the marching about fifty miles a day--an impossibility. Now, fifty miles a day for four days would be terrible marching for veteran troops. Hence, we say, the map or journal is wrong. If he took the route he has marked down and completed it in the time he says he did, one instead of two parallels of longitude should indicate the distance between the two lakes. In fact, this whole expedition was such a miserable failure, that anywhere but in Africa it would be looked upon as a farce. It shows how utterly futile it is to rely on the native Africans in any great enterprise. The Arabs are bad enough, but they are fidelity itself compared to these black savages. Here was an expedition numbering nearly three thousand souls, organized to secure a safe march to a lake not five days distant. It met with no obstacles of any moment, reached the lake, and there, on the mere rumor that hostilities were intended, practically broke up and returned. Stanley had, with about three hundred men, traversed an unknown country for months, fought battles, and at the end of a thousand miles reached the lake he was seeking, pitched his camp, and with a crew of eleven men explored the lake in its entire circuit, and returned in safety. Here, with a small army, after a four days' march, he reaches the Albert Nyanza, yet does nothing but turn round and march back again. It would seem, at first sight, strange that if he could march a thousand miles from the sea to the Victoria Nyanza and then explore it, he could not now with the same men explore this lake without the aid of Lamboozi and his two thousand or more soldiers. Doubtless he could but for this very army. Its disaffection and declaration that they were not strong enough to resist the force about to be brought against them, created a panic among Stanley's men. If two thousand fled, it would be madness for one hundred and eighty to stay. The simple truth is, the more such men one has with him, unless he is the supreme head and his will is law, even to life and death, the worse he is off. Stanley, planning, controlling and directing every movement, is a power; Stanley under the direction of a swaggering, braggart African negro general, is nobody. Lamboozi did, next morning after their approach to the lake, send out two hundred scouts to capture some natives, by whom they could get a message to the king of the district, saying that they had no hostile intentions, and if permitted to encamp on the shores of the lake for two months, would pay in beads, cloth and wire for whatever provisions they consumed. Five were captured and sent to the king with this proposition, but he did not deign an answer. On the 11th, they moved the camp to within a mile of the lake, on a plateau that rose a thousand feet above its surface. A place was selected for a camp and men sent out to capture all the canoes they could find. In three hours they returned with only five, and those too small for their purpose. But they brought back word that the whole country was aroused, and that a large body of strange warriors had arrived on the coast to aid the king in making war on the newcomers. General Lamboozi now became thoroughly alarmed, and stubbornly refused to grant Stanley's request to move to the edge of the lake and intrench. It seemed probable that the natives meant to give battle, but with what numbers or prospect of success, Lamboozi took no measure to ascertain. Next day he resolved to march back. Entreaties and threats were alike in vain, and there was nothing left for Stanley to do but march back with him. He was greatly disappointed and thoroughly disgusted, but there was no help for it. That Unyoro and Abba Rega would be hostile, Stanley knew before he started, and on that account took so large a force with him. Yet he says, after this miserable failure, that it was a foolhardy attempt at the outset. Looking at it calmly, he pronounces it a great folly, redeemed from absurdity only by "the success of having penetrated through Unyoro and reached the Albert." It is difficult to see wherein lies the greatness of this success; for, according to his own account, it was one of the most peaceful marches he ever performed, with hardly enough incident in it to make it interesting. It matters little, however; all that can be said is, they marched up to the lake and then marched back again. On the morning of the 13th, they began their return in order of battle--five hundred spearmen in front, five hundred as a rear guard, and the expedition in the centre--but no enemy attacked them or attempted to do anything but pick up some stragglers. The next day the expedition formed the rear guard, and once some natives rushed out of the woods to attack them, but were quickly dispersed by a few shots. This is all that happened to this army in terrible Unyoro, and presents a striking contrast to Baker's gallant march through it with his little band, fighting every day for nearly a week. Four days after, without any further molestation, they re-entered Uganda, where Lamboozi turned off to his home. Stanley had heard no news of Gordon or of the steamers he was to place on the lake according to the plan of Baker; and though at first he thought that he would seek some other way to reach it and make his explorations, he finally resolved to start for Tanganika, which he would reach in about four months, and explore it. Hence, while Lamboozi turned eastward toward Lake Victoria, he with his little band, turned southward. He sent a letter, however, to Mtesa, informing him of Lamboozi's cowardice and refusal to build a camp at Lake Albert, and telling him also that this redoubtable general had robbed him. He had intrusted to his care three porter's loads of goods to relieve his own carriers, and these he had appropriated as his own. When the letter reached the emperor he was thrown into a towering passion, and immediately dispatched a body of troops to seize the general, with orders to strip him of his wives, slaves, cattle and everything he possessed, and bring him bound to his presence. He also sent letter after letter to Stanley, begging him to return, and he would give him ninety thousand men, with brave generals to command them, who would take him to Lake Albert, and protect him there till he had finished his explorations. Stanley was very much moved by this generous offer and the anxiety of the king to make amends for Lamboozi's poltroonery and thieving conduct. The noble savage felt it keenly that he, who valued so highly the esteem of Stanley, should be disgraced in his sight, and it was hard for the latter to refuse his urgent request to be allowed to redeem his character and his pledge. But Stanley had had enough of Waganda troops, and felt that whatever was accomplished hereafter must be by his own well-trained, compact, brave little band. He kept on his way, and never saw Mtesa again. He had been able to add considerably to the geography of the country bordering on Lake Albert. Usongora, a promontory running thirty miles into the lake southward, he ascertained to be the great salt field, from whence all the surrounding countries obtain their salt. From all he could hear, it was truly a land of wonders, but he says the man who should attempt to explore it would need a thousand muskets, for the natives cannot be enticed into peace by cloth and beads. They care for nothing but milk and goat skins. "Among the wonders credited to it," he says, "are a mountain emitting fire and stones, a salt lake of considerable extent, several hills of rock-salt, a large plain encrusted thickly with salt and alkali, a breed of very large dogs of extraordinary ferocity, and a race of such long-legged natives, that ordinary mortals regard them with surprise and awe." They do not allow members of their tribe to intermarry with strangers, and their food, like that of the dwellers in the Himalaya Mountains, consists chiefly of milk. Mtesa once invaded their territory with one hundred thousand men, to capture cows, of which the natives have an immense number, and in watching which consists their sole occupation. The army returned with twenty thousand, but they were obtained at such a fearful sacrifice of life, that the raid will not be repeated. Stanley rested a few days after Lamboozi left him, before proceeding northward. He then continued his march leisurely through the country, inquiring on the way the character of the tribes westward toward that part of Lake Albert which extended south from where he struck it, but one and all were reported hostile to the passage of any strangers through their territory. Arriving on the Kagera River, in Karagwe, he found the King Rumanika, a mild, pleasant-spoken man and very friendly, but he told him that none of the neighboring tribes would let him enter their lands. Stanley being a little suspicious of the motives that prompted this bad report of the surrounding tribes, to test him, asked him if he had any objections to his exploring his country. He said no, and cheerfully promised to furnish him guides and an escort, and his party should be supplied with food free of charge. Stanley, surprised at this generosity, at once got ready to start. He first went south to Lake Windermere, a small body of water so named by Captain Speke, because of its fancied resemblance to the lake of that name in England. The Lady Alice was taken there, screwed together, and launched on the peaceful waters. Accompanied by six native canoes, he sailed round it and then entered Kagera River, called by Speke the Kitangule. Suddenly it flashed on Stanley's mind that he had discovered the true parent of the Victoria Nile. It fed and drained this little lake some nine miles long. Moreover, he found that there was a depth of fifty-two feet of water and a breadth of one hundred and fifty feet. He therefore pushed up it some three days, and came to another lake nine miles long and six miles wide. Working up through the papyrus that covered the stream, he came to another lake or pond a mile and a half long. Ascending an eminence, he discovered that this whole portion of the river was a lake, large tracts of which were covered with papyrus, or that vegetation which we have seen Baker had to contend with in ascending the Nile. It seemed solid ground, while in fact it was a large body of water covered over, with here and there an opening, making a separate lake, of which Windermere was the largest. This apparently underground lake was some eighty miles in length and fourteen in width. Following the river as it flowed eastward into the Victoria Nyanza, he found he entered another lake, thirteen miles long and some eight miles broad. This was, of course, the continuation of the lake, covered at intervals with this tropical vegetation, which gave to it the appearance of land. There were in all, seventeen of these lakes. This river now broadening as the formation of the land causes it to expand, now narrowing till its channel is forty feet deep, it at last tumbles over cataracts and rushes through rapids into the Victoria Nyanza. All this seems of little account, except, as Stanley says, he has found in it the true source of the Victoria Nile. The great and persistent efforts to find out the source of the Nile have led explorers to push their theories to an absurd extent. Because Herodotus made the Nile to rise in some large springs, they seem to think they must find something back and beyond a great lake as its source. Now, when a river flows right on through one lake after another, making lakes as the formation of the ground allows, it of course maintains its integrity and oneness. In this case there is but one main stream and as long as the lakes are the mere spreading out of that stream on low, flat lands, it must remain the same. But when you come to great reservoirs like the Albert and Victoria Nyanza and the Tanganika--into which a hundred streams, and perhaps twice that number of springs, flow--to go beyond such reservoirs to find the head of the stream is bringing geography down to a fine point. The outlet is plain--you have traced the river up till you see it roaring from its great feeder. This is very satisfactory, and should end all research after the source of the stream. But to insist on taking measurements of a dozen different rivers that flow into a lake a thousand miles in circumference, to find which is a mile longest or ten feet deepest, and thus determine the source of the outlet, is preposterous. A lake covering twenty-two thousand square miles, fed by a hundred rivers, is a reservoir of itself, and not an expansion of any one river. One might as well try to prove which is the greatest source or feeder of the Atlantic Ocean--the Amazon, Mississippi or Congo. Thus we find Stanley, when he struck the Shimeeyu in Speke Gulf, declaring he had found the extreme southern source of the Nile; and now, when exploring another river of a larger volume on another side of the lake, he changes his mind and thinks he has made a great discovery in ascertaining at last the true source of the river. He found it over fifty feet deep, which showed what a volume of water it poured into the Victoria Nyanza. Descending it again, he entered another lake some thirteen miles long by eight wide. Exploring this, he was driven back by the natives when he attempted to land, who hailed him with shrill shouts and wild war-cries. The Kagera, through its entire length, maintains almost the same depth and volume. [Illustration: HOT SPRINGS OF MTAGATA.] Returning to his generous host, he asked for guides to take him to the hot springs of Mtagata, the healing properties of which he had heard of far and wide from the natives. These were cheerfully given, and after a march of two days he reached them. Here he was met by an astonishing growth of vegetation. Plants of an almost infinite variety, covered the ground, growing so thick and crowding each other so closely, that they became a matted mass--the smaller ones stifled by the larger--and out of which trees shot up an arrow's-flight into the air, with "globes of radiant green foliage upon their stem-like crowns." He found a crowd of diseased persons here, trying the effect of the water. Naked men and women were lying promiscuously around in the steaming water, half-asleep and half-cooked, for the water showed a temperature of one hundred and twenty-nine degrees. The springs were, however, of different temperature. The hottest one issued from the base of a rocky hill, while four others, twenty degrees cooler, came bubbling up out of black mud, and were the favorites of the invalids. Stanley camped here three days, and bathed in the water and drank it, but could perceive no effect whatever on his system. Returning to his friend Rumaniki, he prepared to start on his journey south to Lake Tanganika, and finish its explorations. Having discovered that the Kagera River formed a lake eighty miles long, and was a powerful stream a long distance from its mouth, he resolved, as it flowed from the south, to follow it up and try to find its source. A broad wilderness lay before him, the extent of which he did not accurately know, and he packed ten days' provisions on the shoulders of each man of the expedition, and bidding the soft-voiced pagan king, by whom he had been treated so kindly, a warm good-bye, he entered the forest and kept along the right bank of the stream. This was the 27th of March, and for six days he marched through an uninhabited wilderness, with nothing to break the monotony of the journey. At the end of that time he came to the borders of Karagwe and to the point where the Akanyaru River entered the Kagera. He dared not explore this river, for the natives that inhabit both banks are wild and fierce, having a deadly hatred of all strangers. They are like the long-legged race of Bumbireh, and he did not care to come in collision with them. They possess many cattle, and if one sickens or dies, they do not attribute it to accident, but believe it has been bewitched, and search the country through to find the stranger who has done it, and if he is found, _he dies_. All the natives of the region are passionately fond of their cows, and will part with anything sooner than with milk. Stanley says that his friend Rumaniki, with all his generosity, never offered him a teaspoonful of milk, and if he had given him a can of it, he believes his people would have torn him limb from limb. He thinks that half of their hostility arises from the fear of the evil effect that the presence of strangers will have on their cattle. Hence they keep a strict quarantine on their frontiers. It is not strange that they should cherish this stock carefully, for it is their sole means of subsistence. This long journey through various tribes is singularly barren of incident. On the route he lost his last dog, Bull, who had bravely held out in all their long wanderings, but at last he gave up and laid down and died, with his eyes fixed on the retiring expedition. He also met the redoubtable Mirambo, and found him not the blood-thirsty monster he had been represented to be, but a polite, pleasant-mannered gentleman, and generous to a fault. They made blood brotherhood together, and became fast friends. At length, in the latter part of May, he reached Ujiji, where he formerly found Livingstone. The following extract from a private letter of Stanley's, written to a friend while at Lake Victoria, gives a domestic picture that is quite charming, he says that "Kagehyi is a straggling village of cane huts, twenty or thirty in number, which are built somewhat in the form of a circle, hedged around by a fence of thorns twisted between upright stakes. Sketch such a village in your imagination, and let the centre of it be dotted here and there with the forms of kidlings who prank it with the vivacity of kidlings under a hot, glowing sun. Let a couple of warriors and a few round-bellied children be seen among them and near a tall hut which is a chief's, plant a taller tree, under whose shade sit a few elders in council with their chief; so much for the village. "Now outside the village, yet, touching the fence, begin to draw the form of a square camp, about fifty yards square, each side flanked with low, square huts, under the eaves of which, plant as many figures of men as you please, for we have many, and you have the camp of the exploring expedition, commanded by your friend and humble servant. From the centre of the camp you may see Lake Victoria, or that portion of it I have called Speke Gulf, and twenty-five miles distant you may see table-topped Magita, the large island of Ukerewe, and toward the northwest a clear horizon, with nothing between water and sky to mar its level. The surface of the lake which approaches to within a few yards of the camp is much ruffled just at present with a northwest breeze, and though the sun is growing hot, under the shade it is agreeable enough, so that nobody perspires or is troubled with the heat. You must understand there is a vast difference between New York and Central African heat. Yours is a sweltering heat, begetting languor and thirst--ours is a dry heat, permitting activity and action without thirst or perspiration. If we exposed ourselves to the sun, we should feel quite as though we were being baked. Come with me to my lodgings, now. I lodge in a hut little inferior in size to the chief's. In it is stored the luggage of the expedition, which fills one-half. It is about six tons in weight, and consists of cloth, beads, wire, shells, ammunition, powder, barrels, portmanteaus, iron trunks, photographic apparatus, scientific instruments, pontoons, sections of boat, etc., etc. The other half of the hut is my sleeping, dining and hall-room. It is dark as pitch within, for light cannot penetrate the mud with which the wood-work is liberally daubed. The floor is of dried mud, thickly covered with dust, which breeds fleas and other vermin to be a plague to me and my poor dogs. "I have four youthful Mercuries, of ebon color, attending me, who, on the march, carry my personal weapons of defense. I do not need so many persons to wait on me, but such is their pleasure. They find their reward in the liberal leavings of the table. If I have a goat killed for European men, half of it suffices for two days for us. When it becomes slightly tainted, my Mercuries will beg for it, and devour it at a single sitting. Just outside of the door of my hut are about two dozen of my men sitting, squatted in a circle and stringing beads. A necklace of beads is each man's daily sum wherewith to buy food. I have now a little over one hundred and sixty men. Imagine one hundred and sixty necklaces given each day for the last three months--in the aggregate the sum amounts to fourteen thousand necklaces--in a year to fifty-eight thousand four hundred. A necklace of ordinary beads is cheap enough in the States, but the expense of carriage makes a necklace here equal to about twenty-five cents in value. For a necklace I can buy a chicken, or a peck of sweet potatoes, or half a peck of grain. "I left the coast with about forty thousand yards of cloth, which, in the States, would be worth about twelve and a half cents a yard, or altogether about five thousand dollars--the expense of portage, as far as this lake, makes each yard worth about fifty cents. Two yards of cloth will purchase a goat or sheep; thirty will purchase an ox; fifteen yards are enough to purchase rations for the entire caravan." Why these naked savages put such a high value on cloth, none of these African explorers informs us. We can understand why they should like beads, brass wire, shells and trinkets of all sorts. They certainly use very little cloth on their persons. He adds: "These are a few of the particulars of our domestic affairs. The expedition is divided into eight squads of twenty men each, with an experienced man over each squad. They are all armed with Snider's percussion-lock muskets. A dozen or so of the most faithful have a brace of revolvers in addition to other arms." He then goes on to speak of the battles he has fought, and it is but just to him to give his feelings as he describes them in confidential private correspondence, on being compelled to kill the savages. He says: "As God is my judge, I would prefer paying tribute, and making these savages friends rather than enemies. But some of these people are cursed with such delirious ferocity that we are compelled to defend ourselves. They attack in such numbers and so sudden, that our repeating rifles and Sniders have to be handled with such nervous rapidity as will force them back before we are forced to death; for if we allow them to come within forty yards, their spears are as fatal as bullets; their spears make fearful wounds, while their contemptible-looking arrows are as deadly weapons. * * * Since I left Zanzibar, I have traveled seven hundred and twenty miles by land and a thousand miles by water. This is a good six months' work." CHAPTER XVIII. EXPLORATIONS OF LAKE TANGANIKA. It was with strange feelings that Stanley caught from the last ridge the sparkling waters of Tanganika. Sweet associations were awakened at the sight, as he remembered with what a thrilling heart he first saw it gleam in the landscape. Then it was the end of a long, wasting and perilous journey--the goal of his ambition, the realization of his fondest hopes; for on its shores he believed the object for which he had toiled so long was resting. No more welcome sight ever dawned on mortal eye than its waters as they spread away on the horizon; and though he should see it a hundred times, it will never appear to him like any other sheet of water. He has formed for it an attachment that will last forever; and whenever in imagination it rises before him, it will appear like the face of a friend. As he now descended to Ujiji, it was with sensations as though he were once more entering civilized life, for there was something almost homelike about this Arab colony. People dressed in civilized garments were moving about the streets, cattle were coming down to the lake to drink, and domestic animals scattered here and there made quite a homelike scene. At first sight, it seems strange that Stanley should have selected this lake as the next scene of his explorations. He had previously, with Livingstone, explored thoroughly the upper half of it, and passed part way down the western side; Livingstone had been at the foot of it, and to crown all, Stanley had heard, before leaving Zanzibar, that Cameron had explored the entire southern portion, so that really there was nothing for him to do but follow a path which had been already trodden. To employ an expedition fitted out at so great a cost, and spend so much valuable time in going over old ground, seems an utter waste of both time and labor, especially when such vast unexplored fields spread all around him. But there was a mystery about Tanganika, which Stanley probably suspected Cameron had not solved, and which he meant to clear up. Here was a lake over three hundred miles long, with perhaps a hundred streams, great and small, running into it, and yet with no outlet, unless Cameron had found it, which he thinks he did. To find this was the chief object of the expedition Stanley and Livingstone made together to the north end of the lake. They had heard that the Rusizi River at that extremity was the outlet, but they found it instead a tributary. In fact, they proved conclusively that there was no outlet at the northern end. It therefore must be at the southern, and if so, it was the commencement of a river that would become a mighty stream before it reached the ocean. But no such stream was known to exist. The Caspian Sea has large rivers flowing into it, but no outlet, yet it never fills up. Evaporation, it is supposed, accounts for this. But the Caspian is salt, while the Tanganika is fresh water, and such a large body of fresh water as this was never known to exist without an outlet, and if it could be that evaporation was so great as to equal all the water that runs into it, it would not remain so fresh as it is. We will let Cameron state his own case concerning the solution of this mystery. He started with two canoes and thirty-seven men, and sailed down the eastern shore of the lake, now ravished with the surpassing beauty of the scene composed of water and sky, and smiling shores, and again awed by beetling cliffs; one evening camping on the green banks and watching the sun go down behind the purple peaks, and another drenched with rain, and startled by the vivid lightning and awful thunder crashes of a tropical storm, yet meeting with no incident of any peculiar interest to the reader. The natives were friendly, and he describes the different villages and customs of the people and their superstitions, which do not vary materially from other native tribes. At last, on the 3d of May, he entered the Lukuga Creek, which a chief told him was the outlet of the lake. He says that the entrance was more than a mile wide, "but closed up by a grass sand-bank, with the exception of a channel three or four hundred yards wide. Across this there is a rill where the surf breaks heavily, although there was more than a fathom of water at its most shallow part." The next day he went down it four or five miles, until navigation was rendered impossible, owing to the masses of floating vegetation. Here the depth was eighteen feet, and breadth six hundred yards, and the current a knot and a half an hour. The chief who accompanied him said that it emptied into the Lualaba. He tried in vain to hire men to cut a passage through the vegetation that he might explore the river. This was all the knowledge he obtained by actual observation, the rest of his information being obtained from the natives. Now, we must say, that this is a sorry exhibit for the outlet to a lake almost twice as long as Lake Ontario. That such an immense body of water should trickle away at this rate seems very extraordinary. Stanley at Ujiji started inquiries respecting this stream, and found Cameron's guide, who stoutly denied that the river flowed south from the lake. Another veteran guide corroborated this statement, while many others declared that before Cameron came, they had never heard of an outflowing river. These contradictory statements, together with the universal testimony that the lake was continually rising (the truth of which he could not doubt, as he saw palm-trees which stood in the market-place when he was there in 1871, now one hundred feet out in the lake), made him resolve to explore this stream himself. He started on the 11th of June, and three days after landed to take a hunt, and soon came upon a herd of zebras, two of which he bagged, and thus secured a supply of meat. On the 19th, on approaching a large village, they were astonished to see no people on the shore. Landing, they were still more astonished at the death-silence that reigned around, and advancing cautiously came upon corpses of men and women transfixed with spears or with their heads cut off. Entering into the village they found that there had been a wholesale massacre. A descent had been made upon the place, but by whom no one was left to tell. Its entire population had been put to death. As Stanley proceeded, he found many evidences of the steady rise of the lake. He continued on his course, finding the same varied scenery that Cameron did, with nothing of peculiar interest occurring, except to the travelers themselves, and at length came to the Lukuga Creek. He found various traditions and accounts here--one native said the water flowed both ways. The spot on which Cameron encamped, some two years before, was now covered with water, another evidence that the lake was rising. Stanley very sensibly says, that the "rill," which Cameron states runs directly across the channel, is conclusive evidence that the Lukuga runs into the lake, not out of it; for it must be formed by the meeting of the inflowing current and the waves. An outpouring stream driven onward by waves would make a deep channel, not a dam of sand. He tried several experiments, by which he proved, to his entire satisfaction, that the stream flowed into the lake instead of being its outlet. Having settled this question he set about finding the other river, which the natives declared flowed out or westward. After traveling some distance inland he did find a place where the water flowed west; it was, however, a mere trickling stream. His account of his explorations here, and of the traditions of the natives, and his description of the formation of the country and of its probable geological changes, is quite lengthy, and possesses but little interest to the general reader. The result of it all, however, is that he believes the Lukuga was formerly a tributary of the lake, the bed of which at some former time was lifted up to a higher level; that the whole stretch of land here has been sunk lower by some convulsion of nature, taking the Lukuga with it, and thus making a sort of dam of the land at the foot, which accounts for the steady rise of the river year by year; and that in three years the lake will rise above this dam, and, gathering force, will tear like a resistless torrent through all this mud and vegetation, and roaring on, as the Nile does where it leaves the Victoria Nyanza, will sweep through the country till it pours its accumulated waters into the Lualaba, and thus swell the Congo into a still larger Amazon of Africa. This seems to be the only plausible solution of the mystery attached to Tanganika. The only objection to it is, no such convulsion or change of the bed of the Tanganika seems to have occurred during this generation, and what has become, then, for at least seventy years, of all the waters these hundred rivers have been pouring into the lake? We should like the estimate of some engineer of how many feet that lake would rise in fifty years, with all its tributaries pouring incessantly such a flood into it. We are afraid the figures would hardly harmonize with this slow rise of the lake. It may be that there is a gradual filtering of the water through the ooze at the foot, which will account for the slow filling up of the great basin--a leakage that retards the process of accumulation. But if Stanley's explorations and statements can be relied upon, the mystery will soon solve itself, and men will not have to hunt for an outlet long. He makes the length of Tanganika three hundred and twenty-nine geographical miles, and its average breadth twenty-eight miles. The wonderful influence of Livingstone over all African explorers is nowhere more visible than at Ujiji, on both Cameron and Stanley. Both of these set out with one object--to try to complete the work that the great and good man's death had left unfinished. His feet had pressed the shores of almost every lake they had seen, as well as of others which they had not seen. The man had seemed to be drawn on westward until he reached Nyangwe, where dimly arose before him the Atlantic Ocean, into which the waters flowing past his camp might enter, and did enter, if they were not the Nile. Discouraged, deserted and driven back, he could not embark on the Lualaba and float downward with its current till he should unveil the mystery that wrapped it. Cameron became filled with the same desire, but disappointed, though not driven back, he had pressed on to the ocean, into which he had no doubt the river emptied, though by another route. And now, last of three, comes Stanley, and instead of finishing Livingstone's work around the lakes, he, too, is drawn forward to the same point. It seemed to be the stopping-place of explorations in Africa; and although he knew that Cameron had not returned like Livingstone, and hence might have discovered all that was to be discovered, so making further explorations in that direction useless, still he felt that he must go on and find out for himself. True, there was an interesting district between Ujiji and the Lualaba. There was the beautiful Manyema region, about which Livingstone had talked to him enthusiastically, with its new style of architecture, and beautiful women and simple-minded people. But those did not form the attraction. He must stand on the spot where Livingstone stood, and look off with his yearning desire, and see if he could not do what this good man was willing to risk all to accomplish. [Illustration: SETTING OUT TO CROSS LAKE TANGANIKA.] At all events, he must move somewhere at once, and westward seemed the most natural direction to take, for if he stayed in Ujiji much longer the expedition would break up. He found on his return that the small-pox had broken out in camp, filling the Arabs with dismay. He had taken precaution on starting to vaccinate every member of his party, as he supposed, and hence he felt safe from this scourge of Africa. He did not lose a single man with it on his long journey from the sea to the Victoria Nyanza. But it had broken out in Ujiji with such fury that a pall was spread over the place, and it so invaded his camp that in a few days eight of his men died. This created a panic, and they began to desert in such numbers that he would soon be left alone. Thirty-eight were missing, which made quite a perceptible loss in a force of only one hundred and seventy men. The chiefs of the expedition were thoroughly frightened, but they told him that the desertions would increase if he moved westward, for the men were as much afraid of the cannibals there, as of the small-pox in their midst. They were told horrible stories of these cannibals till their teeth chattered with fear. Besides there were hobgoblins--monsters of every kind in the land beyond the Tanganika. Stanley saw, therefore, that prompt measures must be taken, and he at once clapped thirty-two of the discontented in irons, drove them into canoes, and sent them off to Ukurenga. He with the rest followed after by land to Msehazy Creek, where the crossing of the lake was to be effected. Reaching the other side he proceeded to Uguha, where, on mustering his force, he found but one hundred and twenty-seven out of one hundred and seventy, showing that one-third had disappeared. Among the last to go, and the last Stanley expected would leave him, was young Kalulu, whom he had taken home to the United States with him on his return from his first expedition. He had him placed in school in England for eighteen months, and he seemed devoted to Stanley. A gloom hung over the camp, and desertion was becoming too contagious. If such men as Kalulu could not be trusted, Stanley knew of no one who could be, and with his usual promptness he determined to stop it. He therefore sent back Pocoke and a faithful chief with a squad of men to capture them. Paddling back to Ujiji, they one night came upon six, who, after a stout fight, were secured and brought over to camp. Afterward young Kalulu was found on an island and brought in. This desertion is a chronic disease among the Arabs. Their superstitious fears are quickly aroused, and they are easily tempted to break their contract and leave in the lurch the man to whom they have hired themselves. Stanley's march to Manyeme was noticeable only for the curious customs or habits of the people, and on the 5th of October he reached the frontier of this wonderful country. Livingstone had halted here several months, and this was an inducement for Stanley to stop a few days. The weapons of the natives were excellent, and there was one custom that attracted his particular attention--the men wore lumps in various forms of mud and patches of mud on their beard, hair and head, while the women wove their front hair into head-dresses, resembling bonnets, leaving the back hair to wave in ringlets over their shoulders. He, as well as Cameron, was amazed at their villages, which, usually had one or more broad streets running through them, each being from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet wide, and along which are ranged the square huts, with well-beaten, cleanly-kept clay floors, to which they cheerfully invite strangers. On the 12th he reached the village on the Luma which he had been following, where both Livingstone and Cameron left it and turned directly west to Nyangwe. He, however, determined to follow it till it reached the Lualaba, and then proceed by this stream to the same place. He found the natives kind but timid, with many curious traditions and customs. The expedition at last reached the Lualaba, and moving majestically through the forest and making rapid marches, it arrived on the next day at Tubunda. CHAPTER XIX. NYANGWE AND ITS HISTORY. Nyangwe is the farthest point west in Africa ever reached by a white man who came in from the east. It is about three hundred and fifty miles from Ujiji, or a little over the distance across New York State, but the journey is not made in one day--Stanley was forty days in accomplishing it. Here he found that Livingstone, the first white man ever seen there, must have remained from six to twelve months. Livingstone had made a profound impression on the natives of this region. "Did you know him?" asked an old chief, eagerly. Stanley replying in the affirmative, he turned to his sons and brothers, and said: "He knew the good white man. Ah, we shall hear all about him." Then turning to Stanley, he said: "Was he not a very good man?" "Yes," replied the latter, "he was good, my friend; far better than any white man or Arab you will ever see again." "Ah," said the old negro, "you speak true; he was so gentle and patient, and told us such pleasant stories of the wonderful land of the white people--the aged white was a good man indeed." Livingstone made a strong impression on Stanley also, who, speaking of him says: "What has struck me while tracing Livingstone to his utmost researches--this Arab depôt of Nyangwe,--revived all my grief and pity for him, even more so than his own relation of sorrowful and heavy things, is, that he does not seem to be aware that he was sacrificing himself unnecessarily, nor to be warned of the havoc of age and that his old power had left him. With the weight of years pressing upon him, the shortest march wearying him, compelling him to halt many days to recover his strength, and frequent attacks of illness prostrating him, with neither men nor means to escort him and enable him to make practical progress, Livingstone was at last like a blind and infirm man moving aimlessly about. He was his own worst taskmaker." Whether Stanley's views of the mental condition of Livingstone--growing out of his sickness and want of money while in Nyangwe--are correct or not, one thing is true: that after the great explorer had seemingly reached the very point when the problem was to be solved as to where the mysterious Lualaba flowed, he waited there till he found a caravan going east, and then returned to Ujiji "a sorely tried and disappointed man." Standing on the last point which this intrepid explorer reached, Stanley is reminded of his own earnest efforts to induce that worn hero to return home and recruit, to which the invariable answer was: "No, no, no; to be knighted, as you say, by the Queen, welcomed by thousands of admirers, yes--but impossible, must not, can not, will not be." Stanley, on this outmost verge of exploration, remembered the words of Livingstone when speaking of the beauties of the region lying west of the Goma Mountains, and says, "It is a most remarkable region; more remarkable than anything I have seen in Africa. Its woods, or forest, or jungles, or brush--I do not know by what particular term to designate the crowded, tall, straight trees, rising from an impenetrable mass of brush, creepers, thorns, gums, palm, ferns of all sorts, canes and grass--are sublime, even terrible. Indeed, nature here is remarkably or savagely beautiful. From every point the view is enchanting--the outlines eternally varying, yet always beautiful, till the whole panorama seems like a changing vision. Over all, nature has flung a robe of varying green, the hills and ridges are blooming, the valleys and basins exhale perfume, the rocks wear garlands of creepers, the stems of the trees are clothed with moss, a thousand streamlets of cold, pure water stray, now languid, now quick, toward the north and south and west. The whole makes a pleasing, charming illustration of the bounteousness and wild beauty of tropical nature. But, alas! all this is seen at a distance; when you come to travel through this world of beauty, the illusion vanishes--the green grass becomes as difficult to penetrate as an undergrowth, and that lovely sweep of shrubbery a mass of thorns, the gently rolling ridge an inaccessible crag, and the green mosses and vegetation in the low grounds that look so enchanting, impenetrable forest belts." Stanley once penetrated into one of these great forests and was so overwhelmed by the majesty and solemn stillness of the scene, that he forgot where he was, and his imagination went back to the primeval days when that great, still forest was sown, till the silent trees seemed monuments of past history. But still, this district of Manyema (pronounced in various ways), he does not think so interesting as that of Uregga. In speaking of the Lualaba, after describing the various ways in which it is spelled and pronounced, he says if he could have it his own way he would call it "Livingstone River, or Livingstone's Lualaba," to commemorate his discovery of it and his heroic struggles against adversity to explore it. The letter in which he thus speaks of this region is dated November 1st, 1876. In three days he says he is going to explore this mysterious river to the utmost of his power. Two days previous to this letter, he wrote a long one on the horrors of the slave-trade that casts a pall as black as midnight over all this tropical beauty. He says that from Unyanyembe to Ujiji one sees horrors enough, but in this region they are multiplied tenfold. The traffic in slaves is so profitable and keeps up such a brisk trade with Zanzibar and the interior of Africa, that the native chiefs enter into it on the grandest scale, or rather it is more accurate to say, banditti under the leadership of so-called chiefs enter into it thus, and carry it on with remorseless zeal. Raids are made on small independent villages, the aged are slain and hung up to terrify other villages into a meek acquiescence in their demands, and young men, young women, and children are marched off to Ujiji, from whence they are taken to Zanzibar, becoming, by their cruel treatment on the route, living skeletons before they reach their destination. Gangs, from one hundred to eight hundred, of naked, half-starved creatures Stanley met in his travels, and he wonders that the civilized world will let insignificant Zanzibar become the mart of such an accursed, cruel traffic. There are regular hunting-grounds for slaves. When the business is dull, the inhabitants are left to grow and thrive, just like game out of season in a gentleman's park; but when the business begins to look up, the hunt begins, and the smiling villages become arid wastes. The country, long before he reached Nyangwe, was a wilderness, where a few years before dwelt a happy population. Stanley gives extracts from his diary, showing up the horrors of this system, which make the heart sicken as it thinks of what is daily transpiring in this unknown land. Livingstone saw enough when he was at this place to awaken his deepest indignation, but since that time the Arabs have pushed further inland, and swept, with the besom of destruction, districts that in his time had been but slightly touched. The trade in ivory is but another name for trade in human beings, and the only real commerce this vast, fruitful region has with Zanzibar is through its captured inhabitants, while the slain equal the number sent into captivity. But, while Mr. Stanley feels keenly the disgrace to humanity of this accursed traffic, he evidently does not see so clearly the way to put a stop to it. He is opposed to filibustering of all kinds, and to the interference of strong powers to coerce weak ones on the ground of humanity or Christianity, because it opens the door too wide to every kind of aggression. In fact, this makes it only necessary to use some philanthropic catch-word, in order to justify the annexation of any feeble territory. Stanley evidently thinks there is some limit to the Monroe doctrine of non-interference in the affairs of other nations, as the following extract from one of his letters shows, in which, after discussing the whole matter carefully, he says he writes, "hoping he may cause many to reflect upon the fact that there exists one little State on this globe, which is about equal in extent to one English county, with the sole privilege of enriching itself by wholesale murder, and piracy and commerce in human beings, and that a traffic forbidden in all other nations should be permitted, furtively monopolized by the little island of Zanzibar, and by such insignificant people as the subjects of Prince Burghosh." Mr. Stanley is entirely opposed to filibustering and encroachments of strong powers on feeble ones, under the thousand and one false pretences advanced in support of unrighteous conquests, yet he evidently thinks little Zanzibar should be wiped out, or cease to be the source and centre of this cruel traffic in human beings. One has to travel, he says, in the heart of Africa to see all the horrors of this traffic. The buying and selling of a few slaves on the coast gives no idea of its horrors. At Unyambembe, sometimes a sad sight is seen. At Uganda the trade begins to assume a wholesale character, yet it wears here a rather business aspect; the slaves by this time become hardened to suffering, "they have no more tears to shed," the chords of sympathy have been severed and they seem stolid and indifferent. At Ujiji, one sees a regular slave-market established. There are "slave-folds and pens," like the stock-yards of railroads for cattle into which the naked wretches are driven by hundreds, to wallow on the ground and be half-starved on food not fit for hogs. By the time they reach here they are mere "ebony skeletons," attenuated, haggard, gaunt human frames. Their very voices have sunk to a mere hoarse whisper, which comes with an unearthly sound from out their parched, withered lips. Low moans, like those that escape from the dying, fill the air, and they reel and stagger when they attempt to stand upright, so wasted are they by the havoc of hunger. They look like a vast herd of black skeletons, and as one looks at them in their horrible sufferings he cannot but exclaim, "how can an all-merciful Father permit such things?" No matter whether on the slow and famishing march or crowded like strayed pigs in the overloaded canoes, it is the same unvarying scene of hunger and horror, on which the cruel slave-trader looks without remorse or pity. It may be asked how are these slaves obtained. The answer is, by a systematic war waged in the populous country of Marungu by banditti, supported by Arabs. These exchange guns and powder for the slaves the former capture, which enables them to keep up the war. These Arabs, who sell the slaves on the coast, furnish the only market for the native banditti of the interior. These latter are mostly natives of Unyamwege who band together to capture all the inhabitants of villages too weak to resist them. Marungu is the great productive field of their Satanic labors. Here almost every small village is independent, recognizing no ruler but its own petty chief. These are often at variance with each other, and instead of banding together to resist a common foe, they look on quietly while one after another is swept by the raiders. In crossing a river, Stanley met two hundred of these wretches chained together, and, on inquiry, found they belonged to the governor of Unyambembe, a former patron of Speke and Burton, and had been captured by an officer of the prince of Zanzibar. This prince had made a treaty with England to put a stop to this horrible traffic, and yet here was one of his officers engaged in it, taking his captives to Zanzibar, and this was his third batch during the year. There are two or three entries in Stanley's journal which throw much light on the way this hunt for slaves is carried on. "October 17th. Arabs organized to-day from three districts, to avenge the murder and eating of one man and ten women by a tribe half-way between Kassessa and Nyangwe. After six days' slaughter, the Arabs returned with three hundred slaves, fifteen hundred goats, besides spears, etc." "October 24th. The natives of Kabonga, near Nyangwe, were sorely troubled two or three days ago by a visit paid them by Uanaamwee in the employ of Mohommed el Said. Their insolence was so intolerable that the natives at last said, 'we will stand this no longer. They will force our wives and daughters before our eyes if we hesitate any longer to kill them, and before the Arabs come we will be off.' Unfortunately, only one was killed, the others took fright and disappeared to arouse the Arabs with a new grievance. To-day, an Arab chief set out for the scene of action with murderous celerity, and besides capturing ten slaves, killed thirty natives and set fire to eight villages--'a small prize,' the Arabs said." "October 17th. The same man made an attack on some fishermen on the left bank of the Lualaba. He left at night and returned at noon with fifty or sixty captives, besides some children." "Are raids of this kind frequent?" asked Stanley. "Frequent!" was the reply, "sometimes six or ten times a month." One of these captives said to Stanley, on the march from Mana to Manibo, "Master, all the plain lying between Mana, Manibo and Nyangwe, when I first came here eight years ago, was populated so thickly that we traveled through gardens, villages and fields every quarter of an hour. There were flocks of goats and black pigs around every village. You can see what it now is." He saw that it was an uninhabited wilderness. At that time, Livingstone saw how the country was becoming depopulated before the slave-traders, but says Stanley, "Were it possible for him to rise from the dead and take a glance at the districts now depopulated, it is probable that he would be more than ever filled with sorrow at the misdoings of these traders." He thinks there is but one way of putting a perpetual end to this infernal traffic, and that is by stopping it in the interior. English and American cruisers on the coast can have but partial success. The suggestion of the Khedive of Egypt is the right one. Annex the interior of Africa to some strong power and establish stations on the great highways over which these traders are compelled to transport their human chattels, where they will be pounced upon and made to give up their captives, and the trade will soon cease from its being too hazardous and unprofitable. Portugal has no right to the west coast, which it claims. Let England, or England and America together, claim and exercise sovereignty over it, and it will need no cruisers on the coast to stop the trade in slaves. At any rate, it is high time the Christian nations of the world put a stop to this disgrace and blot upon humanity. CHAPTER XX. ORGANIZING A NEW EXPEDITION. Arriving near Nyangwe, one of the first to meet Stanley was the Arab, Tipo-tipo, or Tipo-tib, or Tippu-tib (which is the proper spelling neither Cameron nor Stanley seems to know), who had once conducted Cameron as far as Utotera or the Kasongo country. He was a splendid specimen of a man physically, and just the one to give Stanley all the information he wanted respecting Cameron's movements. He told him that the latter wanted to follow the river to the sea, but that his men were unwilling to go; besides, no canoes could be obtained for the purpose. He also told him that after staying a long time at Kasongo, he had joined a company of Portuguese traders and proceeded south. One thing was clear: Cameron had not settled the great problem that Livingstone wished of all things to solve--this great unfinished work had been left for Stanley to complete, or to leave for some future, more daring or more successful explorer. Could he get canoes--could he surmount difficulties that neither Livingstone nor Cameron were able to overcome? were the grave questions he asked himself. He had long dialogues with Tipo-tipo and other Arab chiefs, all of whom dissuaded him from attempting to follow the Lualaba by land, or trying to get canoes. They told him frightful stories of the cannibals below--of dwarfs striped like Zebras and ferocious as demons, with poisoned arrows, living on the backs of elephants, of anacondas, of impenetrable forests--in short, they conjured up a country and a people that no stranger who placed any value on his life would dare to encounter. The fact that the Lualaba flowed north to a distance beyond the knowledge of the natives was doubtless one, and perhaps the chief, reason why Livingstone suspected it emptied into the Nile. Stanley now knew better. How far north it might flow before it turned he could not say, yet he felt certain that turn west it would, sooner or later, and empty into the Atlantic Ocean, and the possibility of his tracing it had a powerful fascination for him. Its course he knew lay through the largest half of Africa, which was a total blank. Here, by the way, it is rather singular that Stanley, following Livingstone who alone had explored Lake Bembe and made it the source of the Lualaba, adopts his statement, while Cameron, on mere hearsay, should assert that its source was in marshes. The river, after leaving the lake, flows two hundred miles and empties into Lake Mweru, a body of water containing about one thousand eight hundred square miles. Issuing from this, it takes the name of Lualaba, which it holds and loses by turns as it moves on its mighty course for one thousand one hundred miles, till it rolls, ten miles wide at its mouth, into the broad Atlantic as the Congo. Stanley, from first to last, seemed to have a wonderful power, not only over the Arabs that composed his expedition as we have before mentioned, but over all those with whom he came in contact in his explorations. Notwithstanding all the horrors depicted as awaiting any attempt to advance beyond Nyangwe, this Tipo-tipo agreed, for $5,000, to accompany him with a strong escort a distance of sixty camps, on certain conditions. That he would do it on any conditions was extraordinary, considering the fact, if it was a fact, that the last attempt to penetrate this hostile territory resulted in the loss of five hundred men. The conditions were, that the march should commence from Nyangwe--not occupy more than three months--and that if Stanley should conclude, at the end of the sixty marches, that he could not get through, he would return to Nyangwe; or if he met Portuguese traders and chose to go to the coast in the direction they were moving, he should detail two-thirds of his force to accompany said Tipo back to Nyangwe for his protection. [Illustration: SCENE IN CAMP AT NYANGWE.] To all these Stanley agreed, except the one promising, if he concluded to go on at the end of the sixty marches, to give him two-thirds of the men of the expedition to see him safely back. On this article of agreement there was a hitch, and Stanley showed his Yankee education, if not Yankee birth, by putting in a last article, by which, if Tipo-tipo through cowardice should fail to complete his sixty marches, he should forfeit his $5,000, and have no escort for his return. Stanley then gave him time to think of it, while he went to see young Pocoke and confer with him. They went over the whole ground together, and Stanley told him it was a matter of life and death with both of them; failure would be certain and perhaps horrible death; success would be honor and glory. It was a fearful picture he drew of the possible future, but Frank's ready response was, "go on." At this point Stanley reveals one of his strongest characteristics, which we mentioned in the sketch of him at the beginning of the book--the Napoleonic quality of relying on himself. Ordinary well-established principles and rules often condemned the action of Bonaparte--results approved them. So ordinary prudence would have turned Stanley back as it did Cameron--the stories told him of the character of the tribes in advance--the obstacles he would have to encounter, all the mystery, perils and uncertainty of the future--the universal warning and fearful prognostications of those who were supposed to know best--his isolated condition in the heart of Africa--all things that could surround a man to deter him in his actions, were gathered there around that lonely man at that outpost of civilized enterprise; yet, falling back on himself, rising superior to all outward influences, gauging all the probabilities and possibilities by his own clear perceptions and indomitable will, he determined to push forward. If he could not get canoes, which he feared he could not any more than Cameron, then he would try to follow the river by land; if that failed, he would make canoes in the African forest; if he could not go peaceably, he would fight his way, and not turn back till deserted by his own men and left alone in the midst of a savage, hostile people. This determination, under the circumstances, shows him to be no ordinary character, and marks him as one who in a revolution would control the stormy elements around him and mount to power or to the scaffold. There were also minor obstacles attending this desperate effort to trace the Lualaba to the sea. He had thirteen women in his expedition, wives of his chief Arabs, some of them with young children, others in various stages of pregnancy, who would be delivered of children before they reached the Atlantic coast, and under what circumstances the hour of travail might come no one knew. It might be in the hour of battle, or in the desperate race for life, when one hour's delay would be total ruin to the expedition and death to all. It might be in the struggle and fight around a cataract, or in the day of extreme famine. A thousand things had to be taken into consideration before resolving on this desperate movement. But no matter, the obstacles might even be more formidable than represented, the risk tenfold greater, his mind was made up--the secrets of that mysterious river he would unlock, or his last struggles and mysterious fate would add one more to the secrets it held. At length the contract with Tipo-tipo to escort him sixty marches was made and signed, and then Stanley informed his own men of it, and told them that if at the end of that time they came across a caravan bound for the west coast, part would join it, and the rest might, if they wished, return to Nyangwe. They agreed to stand by the contract and Stanley moved forward into Nyangwe. Here Stanley was received by one of the two Arab chiefs that bear sway in the place, with becoming courtesy. He seemed surprised at the orderly, quiet march of this force, and still more when told that the distance from Tanganika, some three hundred and forty miles, had been made in about forty days. Stanley describes minutely the place and its political management, but seems, like Livingstone and Cameron, to be particularly struck with its market. This is held every fourth day, and from one to three thousand people assemble to trade; most of the vendors are women, and the animated manner in which trade is carried on amused Livingstone exceedingly. Though he could not understand their language he could interpret their gestures, which were very expressive. This pleasant scene, however, was marred one day by a messenger stalking into the market with ten jawbones of men tied to a string and hanging over his shoulder, he boasting of having killed and eaten these men and describing with his knife how he cut them up. Early in the morning of the market-day the river, as far as its course can be seen, presents a lively appearance. It is covered with canoes loaded to their gunwales with natives and articles for the market piled on each other, and they all press toward one point. Amid the laughter and jargon of the natives, may be heard the crowing of cocks, and squealing of pigs and the bleating of goats. Having reached the landing-place, the men quietly shoulder their paddles and walk up the bank, leaving the women to carry the articles up to the market-place. These are placed in large baskets and slung on their backs by a strap across their foreheads. When this great crowd of two or three thousand are assembled the babel begins. But the talking and chaffering are done by the women; the men move about paying but little attention to the bartering, unless something important, as the sale of a slave, is going on. The women do not walk about, but having selected a spot where they propose to do business, they let down the basket, and spreading the articles on the ground so as to appear to the best advantage, they squat themselves in the basket, where they look like some huge shell-fish. The vendors being thus stationary, the buyers also become so, and hence it is always a close, jammed mass of human beings, screaming, sweating and sending forth no pleasant odor, for three or four hours. They do not break up gradually, but on the movement of some important person a general scramble will commence, and in twenty minutes the whole two thousand or more will be scattered in every direction. The markets of this region are held on neutral ground by the various tribes, and their feuds are laid aside for that day. Except at Nyangwe, uninhabited spots are selected. The neighboring chiefs are always present, and can be seen lounging lazily about. Stanley counted fifty-seven different articles for sale, ranging from sweet potatoes to beautiful girls, while the currency was shells, beads, copper and brass wire and palm cloth. There are two foreign chiefs at the place, who are very jealous of each other, as each wished to be regarded by the natives as the most powerful. Sheikh Abed, a tall, thin old man with a white beard, occupies the southern section of the town, and Muini Dugumbi the other. It has not long been an Arab trading post, for Dugumbi is the first Arab that came here, and that was no later than 1868, and pitched his quarters, and now the huts of his friends, with their families and slaves, number some three hundred. He is an Arab trader from the east coast, and soon after his arrival he established a harem, composed of more than three hundred slave women. Though a rollicking, joking man himself, his followers are a reckless, freebooting set. The original inhabitants of Nyangwe were driven out by Muini Dugumbi, and now occupy portions of both sides of the river, and live by fishing, and are said to be a singular tribe. Stanley estimated there must have been forty-two thousand of them in the region previous to the coming of this Arab chief, who spread desolation on every side. There remain to-day only twenty thousand of this people. Stanley remained here only about a week, for Tipo-tipo arriving on the 2d of November, he prepared to start on his unknown journey. The expedition, when he mustered it on the morning of the 4th, numbered one hundred and seventy-six, armed with sixty-three muskets and rifles, two double-barreled guns and ten revolvers. Besides these, there were sixty-eight axes, that Stanley, with great forethought, purchased, thinking the time might come when he would need them as much as his guns. Tipo-tipo brought with him seven hundred followers, though only four hundred were to accompany the expedition the sixty marches. Together, they made quite a little army, but many of them were women and children, who always accompany the Arabs in their marches or forays; still, the force, all drawn up, presented an imposing display. A hundred of these were armed with flint-lock muskets, the rest with spears and shields. CHAPTER XXI. THROUGH THE FORESTS. On the 5th of November, Stanley, at the head of his motley array, turned his back on Nyangwe and his face to the wilderness. It was an eventful morning for him. Eighteen hundred miles of an unknown country stretched before him, wrapped in profound mystery, peopled with races of which the outside world had never heard, and filled with dangers that would appall the bravest heart. He felt, as he turned and gave a last look at Nyangwe, that the die was cast--his fate for good or ill was sealed. What sad misgivings must at times have made a feeling of faintness creep over his heart--what terrible responsibilities must have crowded upon him; aye, what gloomy forebodings, in spite of his courage, would weigh down his spirit. If he had used canoes, the starting would have been more cheerful, but the dense and tangled forest, whose dark line could be traced against the sky, wore a forbidding aspect. They marched but nine miles the first day, and though the country was open, the manner in which the men bore it did not promise well for their endurance when they should enter the jungle. Every pound was carried on men's shoulders, besides their weapons, all the provisions, stores of cloth, and beads, and wire, the arms and ammunition, of which there had to be a large quantity, for they might be two years fighting their way across the continent, and in addition to these burdens, the boat in sections. The next morning, Tipo-tipo's heterogeneous crowd started first, which impeded the march by frequent halts, for the women and children had to be cared for. They soon entered the gloomy forest of Mitamba, where the marching became more difficult, and the halts more frequent, while the dew fell from the trees in great rain-drops, wetting the narrow path they were following, till the soil became a thick mud. The heavy foliage shut out the sky, and the disordered caravan marched on in gloomy twilight, and at last, drenched to the skin, reached a village four miles from camp and waited for the carriers of the boat to arrive. These found the boat a heavy burden, for the foliage grew so thick and low over the path, that the sections had to be pushed by sheer force through it. To make the camp even more gloomy, one of the Arab chiefs who had been in the forest before, said, with great complacency, that what they had endured was nothing to that which was before them. The next day the path was so overgrown and obstructed by fallen trees, that axemen had to go before the carriers of the boat to clear the way for them. On the 10th, having reached Uregga, a village in the very heart of the forest, they halted for a rest. Its isolated inhabitants seemed to be in advance of those whom Stanley had seen elsewhere. The houses were built in blocks, which were square like those of Manyema, and they contained various fancy articles, some of them displaying great taste. Here Stanley saw curiously carved bits of wood, and handsome spoons, and for the first time in Africa, he beheld a cane settee. The men carrying the boat did not come up for two days, and then quite broken and disheartened. Indeed, here almost at the very outset, everything seemed to point to an early dissolution of the expedition. Not only were his men discontented, but Tipo-tipo, with all his elegance of manner and pompous pretence, began to glower and grumble, not merely at the hardships his people were compelled to encounter, but because sickness had broken out in his camp. On the 13th, three hundred out of the seven hundred of his men branched off from the expedition. The marching now became not only monotonous but extremely painful, and so slow that it took a whole day's march to make a distance of nine miles--a rate of progress that Stanley saw very clearly would never bring him to the Atlantic Ocean. They had now been seven days on the march and had made but about forty miles, and scarcely _one_ mile west. Thus far their course had been almost due north toward the great desert of Sahara, and not toward the Atlantic Ocean. These five days had been utterly thrown away, so far as progress in the right direction was concerned; not an inch had been gained, and the whole expedition was discouraged. The carriers of the boat begged Stanley to throw it away or go back to Nyangwe, while the Arab chiefs made no attempt to conceal their discontent, but openly expressed their disinclination to proceed any farther. Even the splendid barbarian dandy, Tipo-tipo, who prided himself on his superiority to all other Arabs, began to look moody, while increasing sickness in the camp cast additional gloom over it. Huge serpents crossed their path, while all sorts of wild beasts and vermin peopled the dense forest and swarmed around them. On the 15th, they made but six miles and a half and yet, short as was the distance, it took the men carrying the boat twenty-four hours to make it, and all were so weary that a halt of an entire day was ordered to let them rest. In addition to this, the forest became ten times more matted than before. Both the heavier timber and the undergrowth grew thicker and thicker, shutting out not only the light of the sun, but every particle of moving air, so that the atmosphere became suffocating and stifling. Panting for breath, the little army crawled and wormed itself through the interlacing branches, and when night came down were utterly disheartened. Even the elegant Tipo-tipo now gave out, and came to Stanley to be released from his engagement. It was in vain that the latter appealed to his honor, his pride and fear of ridicule should he now turn back to Nyangwe. But to everything he could urge, the very sensible answer was returned: "If there is nothing worse than this before us, it will yet take us, at the rate we are going, a year to make the sixty marches and as long a time to return. You are only killing everybody by your obstinacy; such a country was never made for decent men to travel in, it was made for pagans and monkeys." It is in circumstances like these that those qualities which have made Stanley the most successful explorer of modern times, exhibit themselves. Napoleon said, when speaking of troops, "Even brave soldiers have their '_moment de peur_,'" the time when they shrink. But this man seems an exception to this rule. To him the moment of fear never seems to come, for he never feels the contagion of example. He adheres to his resolution to go on, if but a handful stand by him. He seems impervious to the contagion that seizes others, and a panic in battle would sweep by him unmoved. After talking to Tipo-tipo for two hours, he finally got him to agree to accompany him twenty marches farther. There were two things in this village, shut up in the heart of the forest, that impressed Stanley very much. He found here a primitive forge, in which the natives smelted iron-ore, found in the neighborhood, and a smithy, in which the iron was worked up into instruments of all kinds, from a small knife to a cleaver; hatchets, hammers, even wire and ornaments for the arms and legs were made. How this rude people, to whom even an Arab trader had never come, should have discovered the properties of iron-ore, how to disengage the iron and then work it into every variety of instruments, is inexplicable. The whole must have been the product of the brain of some native genius. The other remarkable thing was a double row of skulls, running the entire length of the village, set in the ground, leaving the naked, round top glistening in the sun. There were nearly two hundred of them. Amazed, he asked his Arabs what they were, they replied "soko skulls." The soko, Cameron calls a gorilla, and we have no doubt many of the remarkable stories about gorillas refer to this monkey. But Livingstone says it is an animal resembling the gorilla, and his account of their habits shows they are not the fierce, fearless gorilla that is afraid of neither man nor beast. The soko is about four feet ten inches in height, and often walks erect, with his hands resting on his head as if to steady himself. With a yellow face adorned with ugly whiskers, a low forehead and high ears, he looks as if he might be a hideous cross between a man and a beast. His teeth, though dog-like in their size, still slightly resemble those found in the human head. The fingers are almost exactly like the natives. He is cunning and crafty, and will often stalk a man or woman as stealthily as a hunter will a deer. He seldom does much damage, unless driven to bay, when he fights fiercely. He takes great pleasure in nabbing children and carrying them up into a tree and holding them in his arms, but if a bunch of bananas is thrown on the ground he will descend, and leaving the child, will seize it. He seldom uses his teeth, but in conflict with a man he has been known to bite off his opponent's fingers and then let him go. They are hunted and trapped by the natives for their flesh, which is regarded as very good eating. [Illustration: NATIVES HUNTING SOKOS.] Stanley, not satisfied with the answer of his men concerning the skulls, sent for the chief and asked him whose they were. He said of the sokos, which they hunt because of the destruction they make of the bananas, and that their meat was good. Stanley offered him a hundred cowries if he would bring one to him alive or dead. The chief went into the woods to hunt them, but at evening returned without success. He, however, gave him a portion of what he affirmed to be the skin of one. Stanley had the curiosity to take two of these skulls home with him, and gave them to Professor Huxley to examine, who reported they were the skulls of a man and a woman. Stanley, therefore, came to the conclusion that they were the skulls of men and women who had been eaten by these cannibals. But we do not believe this conclusion fairly justifiable, from Professor Huxley's report on two skulls. In the first place, the Arabs would scarcely have made such a mistake as this implies--they had seen too many soko skulls. In the second place, the chief corroborated their statement, and he had no reason for telling a falsehood. If those skulls were placed thus prominently in the streets, it was to boast of them, not to lie about them. It is far more likely that there were a few human skulls mixed in with the sokos, and that when Stanley asked for a couple, the largest and best-shaped were selected for him which proved to belong to human beings. His hunting for one was certainly not to prove he had told Stanley a falsehood. The same peculiarity was noticed here that Baker mentions of the natives of Fatiko--the women go naked, while the men are partly covered with skins. The whole apparel of the women is an apron four inches square. On the 19th of March, they reached the Lualaba, sweeping majestically through the silent forest. Stanley immediately determined there should be no more tangled forests for him, but that the broad current of the river should bear him to the Atlantic Ocean or to death. The camp was prepared and the breakfast eaten, while Pocoke was getting the Lady Alice screwed together. Soon she was launched on the stream, amid the huzzas of the party. Although the river here was nearly three-quarters of a mile wide, and the opposite shore appeared like an uninhabited forest, yet sharp eyes detected the wonderful apparition that had appeared on the farther shore, and the news spread so rapidly, that when Stanley in the Lady Alice approached it, he saw the woods alive with human beings, and several canoes tied to the shore. He hailed them, and tried to make a bargain with them to transport his party across. They refused point-blank, but afterwards seemed to relent and offered to exchange blood-brotherhood with them, and appointed a place on a neighboring island where the ceremony should be performed. It was, however, discovered that it was a treacherous plot to murder them, and but for precautions taken in view of its possibility, there would have been a fight. Stanley now determined to cross his men by detachments in his own boat. He took over thirty above the village and told the natives that they had better assist him in carrying over the rest, for which he promised they should be well paid. They finally consented, and the whole expedition was soon landed safely on the left bank of the river. CHAPTER XXII. FLOATING DOWN THE CONGO. Having been ferried across the river by the natives, Stanley felt quite secure of the friendship of this first tribe he had met on the banks of the Lualaba. But here he resolved to change its name to Livingstone, which ever after he continues to call it. Villages lined the banks, all, he says, adorned with skulls of human beings. But instead of finding the inhabitants of them friendly, there were none to be seen; all had mysteriously disappeared, whether from fright or to arouse the tribes below, it was impossible to determine; it seemed from the former, for notwithstanding they had overcome their first fear so much as to ferry the expedition across the river, they had not taken away their canoes, nor carried with them their provisions. Leaving these untouched, as a sort of promise to the tribes below that their property should be held sacred, the expedition took up its march down the river. Stanley, with thirty-three men, went by water, in the Lady Alice, while Tipo-tipo and young Pocoke with the rest of the party marched along the bank. Village after village was passed; the natives uttering their wild war-cry, and then disappearing in the forest, leaving everything behind them. Whether it was a peaceful village, or a crowded market-place they passed, they inspired the same terror, and huts and market-places were alike deserted. This did not promise well for the future. In the middle of the afternoon, Stanley, in the Lady Alice, came to a river one hundred yards wide. Knowing that the land party could not cross this without a boat, he halted to wait for its approach in order to ferry it over, and built a strong camp. This was on November 23d, 1876. At sunset it had not arrived, and he became anxious. Next morning it did not make its appearance, and still more anxious, he ascended this river, named the Ruigi, several miles, to see if they had struck it farther up. Returning, in the afternoon without hearing anything of the expedition, he was startled as he approached the camp, by the rapid firing of guns. Alarmed, he told the rowers to bend to their oars, and sweeping rapidly downward, he soon came to the mouth of the stream and found it blocked with canoes filled with natives. Dashing down upon them with loud shouts, they fled in every direction. One dead man floating in the stream was the only result of the first fight on the Livingstone. The day wore away and night came down, and silence and solitude rested on the forest stretching along the banks of the Ruigi, where he anxiously waited to hear musket-shots announcing the arrival of the land party. It was a long and painful night, for one of two things was certain; Tipo-tipo and Pocoke had lost their way or had been attacked and overpowered. The bright tropical sun rose over the forest east of the river Ruigi, but its banks were silent and still. Stanley could not endure the suspense any longer, and dispatched Uledi, with five of the boat's crew, to seek the wanderers. This Uledi, hereafter to the close of the march, becomes a prominent figure. Stanley had made him coxswain of the boat Lady Alice, and he had proved to be one of the most trustworthy men of the expedition, and was to show himself in its future desperate fortunes, one of the most cool and daring, worthy, only half-civilized as he was, to stand beside Stanley. The latter gave him strict directions as to his conduct in hunting up the fugitives--especially respecting the villages he might come across. Uledi told Stanley not to be anxious--he would soon find the lost party. Stanley, of course, could do nothing but wait, though filled with the most anxious thoughts. The river swept by calmly as ever, unconscious of the troubled hearts on its banks; the great forest stood silent and still in the tropical sun, and the day wore away as it ever does, thoughtless of the destinies its hours are settling, and indifferent to the human suffering that crowds them. But at four o'clock a musket-shot rang out of the woods, and soon Uledi appeared leading the lost party. They had gone astray and been attacked by the natives, who killed three of their number. Luckily they captured a prisoner, whom they forced to act as a guide to conduct them back to the river, and, after marching all day, met Uledi in search of them. They were ferried across and allowed to scatter abroad in search of food, which they took wherever found, without any regard to the rights of the natives. Necessity had compelled Stanley to relax his strict rules in this respect. The next day the march was continued as before, communication being kept up by those on the land and on the water by drum-taps. The villages they passed were deserted--every soul fleeing at their approach. Proceeding down the river, they came across six abandoned canoes more or less injured. Repairing these, they lashed them together as a floating hospital for the sick of the land party, the number of which had greatly increased from the exposures and hardships they were compelled to undergo. In the afternoon they came upon the first rapids they had met. Some boats, attempting their descent, were upset and attacked by the natives, who were, however, soon beaten off. Four Snider rifles were lost, which brought down on Pocoke, who had permitted the Arabs to run this risk, a severe rebuke, and a still severer one on the Arab chief, who had asked the former to let him make the attempt. The chief, enraged at the reproaches heaped upon him, went to Tipo-tipo, and declared that he would not serve Stanley any longer. This, together with the increased hostility of the natives, the alarming sickness, and the dangerous rapids, brought the head chief to Stanley with a solemn appeal to turn back before it was too late. But the latter had reached a point where nothing but absolute fate could turn him back. The rapids were passed in safety by the canoe--the Lady Alice being carried around them on men's shoulders. Natives were occasionally met, but no open hostility was shown for several days. The river would now be contracted by the bold shores, and rush foaming along and now spread into lake-like beauty, dotted with green islands, the quiet abodes of tropical birds and monkeys, which filled the air with a jargon of sounds. On the 4th of December they came to a long, straggling town, composed of huts only seven feet long by five wide, standing apart, yet connected by roofs, the intervening spaces covered and common to the inhabitants of both the adjacent huts. It was, however, deserted, like the rest. This persistent desertion was almost as dispiriting as open hostility, and an evil fate seemed to hang over the expedition. The sickness kept increasing, and day after day all that broke the monotony of the weary hours was the tossing over now and then of dead bodies into the river. The land party presented a heart-broken appearance as they crawled, at night, laden with the sick and dying, into camp. At this place Stanley found an old, battered, abandoned canoe, capable of carrying sixty people. This he repaired, and added it to his floating hospital. On the 8th of December he came to another large town, the inhabitants of which, in spite of all attempts to make peace, were determined to fight. With fourteen canoes they approached the bank on which the land party were encamped, and commenced shooting their arrows. This lasted for some time, when Stanley took the Lady Alice and dashed among them, pouring in at the same time such a close and deadly fire that they turned and fled. The story of the slow drifting and marching of the expedition down the Livingstone is a very monotonous one to read, but was full of the deepest interest to the travelers, for the forest on either side of the great river seemed filled with horns and war-drums, while out from a creek or from behind an island canoes would dart and threaten an attack. Floating peacefully through those primeval forests on this stately river, bearing them ever on to the unknown, would make the heart heave with emotion, but when danger and death were ever present, the intensest feelings were aroused. At length they came to a series of villages lining the bank and surrounded with plenty. There was a large population, and the natives, at the approach of Stanley, blew their ivory horns and beat their drums, and soon a whole fleet of canoes, heavily manned, attacked the little party in the boat. By a bold dash Stanley was able to seize and occupy the lower village, where he quickly intrenched himself. The savages came down in immense numbers, filling the air with hideous shouts and rushed on the slender defenses with desperate fury. It was astonishing to see these men, to whom fire-arms were new, show so little fear of them. They were the boldest fighters Stanley had as yet encountered in Africa, and though he punished them severely they kept up the attack, with short intervals between, for nearly two days. At last the appearance of Tipo-tipo along the bank with the land forces made them beat a retreat, which they did with a tremendous noise of horns and loud threats of vengeance. Out of the few with Stanley, four were killed and thirteen wounded, or seventeen out of forty--nearly half of the whole force. This showed desperate fighting, and as the enemy advanced by hundreds their loss must have been fearful. Stanley, who was equal in stratagem to an American Indian, played them a trick that night which took all their bravado out of them. Waiting till he thought they were asleep, he took the Lady Alice, and Frank Pocoke a canoe, and both with muffled oars, rowed up the river to find their camp. It was a rainy, dark and windy night, and, hence, favorable to the enterprise he had in hand, and his movements were undiscovered. By the light of a fire on the bank he ascertained the location of the camp, and advancing cautiously saw some forty canoes drawn up on shore. Bidding Frank go down stream and lie to, to catch them as they floated down, he quietly cut them all adrift. They were caught by the former, and by midnight were at Stanley's camp. He knew that he now had them in his power, and so in the morning proceeded to their camp and made offers of peace, which they were glad to accept on the condition that their canoes were returned to them. This was agreed to and blood-brotherhood made. Stanley, however, whose great need had been canoes, determined not to let all these slip through his hands, and retained twenty-three, giving back only fifteen. Tipo-tipo now told Stanley that he would proceed no further, his people were dying rapidly, the difficulties of marching were increasing and he must return. The latter saw he was determined to go, although eight marches remained to be made, and released him. In truth, now he had boats enough to carry his entire expedition, Tipo-tipo, cumbered with the sick, would be a burden rather than a help, and at the rate they were moving, eight marches, more or less, would not amount to much. Besides, marching by land, Stanley saw must be given up or they would never get to the sea. Thus far they had scarcely made any westing at all, having gone almost due north, and were nearly as far from the Atlantic Ocean as when they left Nyangwe. The only thing he feared was the effect the departure of the escort would have on his men. In announcing to them that on the sixth day they should start down the river, he made them quite a speech, in which he asked them if he had not always taken good care of them and fulfilled all his promises, and said that if they would trust him implicitly he would surely bring them out to the ocean and see them safe back to Zanzibar. "As a father looks after his children," he said, "so will I look after you." A shout greeted him at the close. One of his chiefs followed in an address to the Arabs, while Uledi, the coxswain, spoke for the boatmen in a very satisfactory strain. Preparations for starting were now set on foot, canoes were mended, provisions gathered and everything that could be thought of provided against future contingencies. Christmas day came, and the poor fugitives had quite a frolic there in the wilderness. The twenty-three boats they had captured were christened by the men, amid much merriment, and then canoe races followed, rowed by both men and women; all wound up with a wild war-dance on the banks of the river. The next day Tipo-tipo gave a grand dinner. The day after, the camps separated, and all intercourse between them ceased. On the morning of the 28th, Stanley embarked his men to the sound of drum and trumpet, and Tipo-tipo hearing it in his camp, knew that the parting hour had come, and paraded his men on the bank. As the expedition slowly floated down the stream toward it, there was heard a deep, plaintive chant from the Arabs on the bank, as a hundred melodious voices arose in a farewell song; out from the dim forest, and over the rippling water it floated, in sweet melancholy strains, that touched every heart in that slowly-moving fleet of canoes. Louder and louder swelled the chant, increasing in volume and pathos, as the wanderers drew nearer. As they approached the Arab camp they saw the singers ranged in a row along the bank. Passing slowly by them, they waved a silent adieu, for their hearts were too full to speak. On they floated, and still the chant went on, until, at last, it died away in the distance, and sadness and silence rested on the stream. No one spoke a word, and Stanley cast his own eyes, not wholly dry, over the crowded boats, and was moved with the deepest pity. Nearly all were sitting with their faces hidden in their hands and sobbing. Those they were leaving behind were about to return to their homes--they to enter new dangers, out of which they might never emerge. No wonder they were sad, and it is singular that not a man, even of those who had before deserted, asked permission to go back. It was a mournful scene there in the wilds of Africa, and on that mysterious river, and Stanley said it was the saddest day in his whole life. The casting of their fortunes in this desperate venture of his, shows what wonderful influence he had acquired over them, and with what devotion he had inspired them. No wonder his heart clung to them to the last, and he would never leave them, until he saw them safe again in their homes. In order to rouse the men, he shouted, "Sons of Zanzibar, lift up your heads and be men. What is there to fear? Here we are all together, like one family, with hearts united, all strong with the purpose to reach our home. See this river, it is the road to Zanzibar. When saw you a road so wide? Strike your paddles deep, and cry out 'Bismillah,' and let us forward." No shout greeted this appeal, as with sickly smiles they paddled downward. Uledi tried to sing, but it was such a miserable failure that his sad companions could not restrain a smile. CHAPTER XXIII. DESCENT OF THE CONGO. Stanley was now like Cortez when he burned his ships behind him--there was no returning--one and all must move on together to a common fate. All danger of desertion, for the present, was over, and he felt that the consciousness of there being no possible escape, and that one destiny awaited them all, not only bound them closer together, but would make them better fighters. At first, on their downward march, they met a peaceful tribe, and then a hostile one which would listen to no terms, and whose reply to every request for peace was, "We don't want you; we will eat you." They, however, passed by unmolested, and swept down the river, astonished to see its banks so thickly populated. That night they encamped in a dense jungle, which was found to be the home of the hippopotamus in the dry season. Tipo-tipo had left with Stanley two cannibals that he had captured, to be used by him in conciliating the savages, as they knew their language. These tried their arts this night on the natives on the farther bank, who, no sooner espied the strangers, than they beat their drums and advanced to attack them. The cannibals talked so eloquently and plausibly to them, that the savages withdrew and left them in peace. The next morning they came to the mouth of a large river named Lowwa, one thousand yards wide, and seemingly quite deep. On the last day of the year, they were moving quietly down stream--the heavens bright above them and the banks green beside them--when they suddenly heard the hated war-drum sound; and soon the canoes of the natives shot out from both shores, and for a moment a collision seemed inevitable; but the two cannibals shouted _Sennennch!_ "peace," so plaintively, that they desisted and the little fleet passed on unmolested. But the next day they met other boats which advanced, their crews shouting "we will eat you," but they were easily driven off. It produced a novel sensation in Stanley to be hailed every day and ordered to give himself up for a good _roast_. At length they came to a peaceful tribe, from whom they obtained provisions. Gathering such information as they could from the natives, they now continued on very quietly, when they were suddenly attacked by savages in canoes of immense size. One, eighty-five feet long, singled out the Lady Alice and made for it. The crew of the latter waited till it came within fifty feet, and then, pouring in a deadly volley, made a dash to run it down. The frightened crew, just before the collision, jumped overboard, leaving the big boat in the hands of Stanley. Keeping on, after this little fight, they passed small tributaries, and at length heard the roar of a cataract below. But while they were listening to the unwelcome sound, there suddenly rose over it the wild, shrill war-cries of the savages from both sides of the river. There was no escape for the expedition now--they must turn and fight. Dropping their stone anchors near the bank, they poured in their volleys, but, not being able to dislodge this new foe, they pulled up their anchors and rowed up stream where Stanley divided his forces, and while one attracted the attention of the enemy in front, the other landed, and marching across the land, took them in the rear. As soon as Stanley heard the first shot announcing its arrival, he landed and attacked the enemy in front and routed them, and camped for the night undisturbed. Next morning, however, the natives appeared again in strong numbers and attacked the camp. The fight was kept up for two hours, when a sally was ordered, and they charged on the enemy, who, though giving way, kept up the fight for four or five hours more. Two of Stanley's men were killed and ten wounded. The former were thrown into the river, for Stanley had determined to bury no more men till out of the cannibal country. This defeat of the natives gave the expedition a few days' rest, so that this first of the series of "Stanley falls," as they were named, could be thoroughly explored, not only for geographical purposes, but to ascertain the best way of getting around them. He found that the falls could not be run, and that a carry around them some two miles long must be made. A path was cleared with axes, and boat and canoes were taken from the water and carried with great labor, yet safely, overland, and launched once more on the stream without accident, and anchored in a creek near its entrance into the main river. Not wishing to remain here, the order to advance was given, and soon they were again afloat on the great river. Sweeping downward they heard the roar of another cataract, and, although the war-horns were resounding on every side, they encamped on an island in the middle of the river. The hostile natives on the island, filled with terror, escaped to the mainland. In the morning Stanley explored the island, and found it contained five villages, all now deserted, and in them was such a variety of implements as showed that the inhabitants were adepts in the manufacture of all kinds of iron tools. The river was full of islands, winding among which, day after day, Stanley often found to be the only means of escape from the pertinacious cannibals. These islands presented a beautiful appearance with their luxuriant foliage, but while the eye was resting on loveliness, the ear would be saluted with the sound of war-drums and hideous shouts. Whenever Stanley landed and visited a village from which the inhabitants had fled, he would see human bones scattered around, flung aside like oyster-shells, after the meat was removed, and at times the whole expedition felt as if they were destined to make a grand luncheon for these ferocious man-eaters. The next day Stanley began to make preparations to get around the falls. The first thing was to clear himself of the savages that crowded the left bank and were ready to pounce on him any moment. So taking thirty-six men he led them through the bushes and drove the natives back to their villages, a mile distant, and after a desperate struggle he drove them out of these. He next cut a narrow path, three miles long, around the cataract. This was slow work, and as haste was imperative the men were kept at work all night, flaming torches lighting up the way and making the gloomy shadows of the strange forest deeper still. Camps were distributed at short intervals along the route, and to the first of these the canoes were carried before daylight. The savages made a rush on them but were driven back. At night another stretch of path was made, to which the canoes and baggage were hurried before the cannibals were astir in the morning. There was less hostility and the work went steadily on, and at last, after seventy-eight hours of unceasing labor and almost constant fighting the river was again reached and the boats launched. [Illustration: FIGHTING OUR WAY AROUND.] This was accomplished on January 14th, but though the river had been reached, new perils awaited them. There was a stretch of two miles of rapids that must be passed. After six canoes had been passed safely, one was upset, and one of those in it, Zaidi, instead of swimming ashore, as the others did, clung to it and was borne helplessly down to the cataract below. But on the very verge was a solitary rock on which the boat drifted and split--one part jamming fast. To this the poor wretch clung with the strength of despair, while all around leaped and whirled and roared the boiling water. Those on shore shrieked in agony, and Stanley was hastily sent for. He immediately set to work making a rattan rope, in order to let down a boat to him by which he could be pulled ashore. But the rope was not strong enough, and snapped asunder as soon as the boat reached the heavy suck of water just above the falls, and it was whirled into the vortex below. Other and stronger ropes were then made and another canoe brought up and three ropes lashed to it. A couple of men would be needed to paddle and steer the boat so that it could reach the unfortunate wretch on his perilous perch, and volunteers were called for. But one glance at the wild and angry waves was enough, and no one responded. Stanley then appealed to their feelings, when the brave Uledi stepped forward and said "I will go." Others of the crew followed, but only one was needed. The two stepped calmly into the boat and pushed off--watched with intense anxiety by those on shore. Reaching a certain distance above the falls, it drifted rapidly down toward them, guided by those holding two of the cables on shore. The third floated from the stern of the boat for the poor wretch on the rock to seize. Attempt after attempt was made to get this within Zaidi's reach, but the whirling waters flung it about like a whip-lash. At length the boat was lowered so close to the brink of the falls that he was able to reach it, but no sooner had he seized it and flung himself loose, than he was borne over the edge and disappeared below. But he held on to the rope and soon his head appeared above the boiling waves, when the word was given to haul away. The strain, however, was too great, and the cables parted and away dashed the canoe toward certain destruction, and a cry of horror arose from those on shore, for all three now seemed inevitably lost. But Zaidi below, by hanging on to the rope, pulled the boat against the rock where it lay wedged. He was then pulled up, and the three crouched together on the rock. A stone was now tied to about three hundred feet of whip-cord and flung to them, but they failed to catch it. Again and again was it thrown only to be pulled in and recast, but at last it whirled so close to them that they caught it. A heavy rope of rattan was then tied to it and drawn across and fastened, and a bridge thus secured. But this had taken so much time that night came on before the work could be finished; the three wretched men were left therefore, to crouch on the rock, and wait for the morning. All night long they held on to their wild perch, while the water rushed, and boiled, and roared around them, and the deep thunder of the cataract rose in one deep monotone over all, so that they could not hear each other speak. The next morning, early, the Arabs were set to work making more ropes, which were finally hauled across, and fastened round the waist of each man, and then, one by one, they leaped into the water and were drawn safely ashore, amid the joyous shouts of the people. They now set to work cutting a road three miles long through the woods. Over this the canoes were hauled with great labor before the savages on the farther side knew what was going on. But the moment the canoes were afloat, the foe discovered them, and rushing forward with their canoes the battle commenced. Stanley dashed through them, and sweeping down stream for a mile, landed on the island where the tribe lived, and quietly detaching twenty men, sent them to the villages, while he kept the savages at bay. In a short time, the detachment returned, bringing with them a crowd of women and children as prisoners, and a large herd of sheep. The savages, when they saw these marching down to the landing-place, were taken so completely aback, that they stopped fighting at once, and withdrew to consult what was best to do in this extraordinary turn of affairs. They sat in their canoes, waiting to see their friends massacred. Negotiations for peace were soon opened and concluded, and the ceremony of blood-brotherhood was gone through with, the captives and herds were then surrendered up and friendly terms were established. The fifth cataract was at the foot of this island and was safely passed, and the expedition encamped on the bank of the river, on a green plat of ground, and slept undisturbed. In the morning, to their unbounded surprise, they found themselves inclosed in a net of cord, reaching from the shore above the camp, to the shore below it, passing through the bushes. Stanley knew what this meant--that they were to be speared, when they approached it, like so many wild beasts. He at once ordered one of the chiefs, Manwa Sera, to take thirty men and row up the river a short distance and land, thence to march inland, and come up behind those lying in wait outside of the net. At the end of an hour he ordered men forward to cut the nets, when the firing commenced. The savages soon turned and fled, but to their astonishment, met the enemy advancing on them by the road leading from their villages, at which discovery they fled in every direction. Eight prisoners were, however, captured and brought into camp. On being questioned, they confessed that they were after man-meat and said that their tribe, which lived about a day's journey inland, ate old men and women and every stranger that fell into their hands. They now kept down the river for several miles unmolested, until they heard the sullen roar of the sixth cataract rising over the woods, when they camped on the right bank, near an island covered with villages. Stanley knew what was before him here, and ordered a stockade to be commenced immediately. But, before this was finished, the everlasting drum and horn pealed through the woods and soon the savages were upon them. After a short fight, they retreated, followed by Stanley's soldiers to a large village, but there were only three or four old women in it, who were brought into camp. In a short time a heavier force approached and made a furious attack, but it was quickly driven back and two wounded men were taken prisoners. A part of Stanley's force was all this time cutting a path around the cataract. The next morning they set to work with a will and by noon passed it safely. Stanley having wormed out of his captives all the information he could of the surrounding country and the various tribes that inhabited it, set them free. Passing some rapids, they came to a village in which there was but a single old man, solitary and alone, who had been there for several days. The next day they halted to repair the boats. The persistent course of the river, till within the last few days to the north, and sometimes northeast, had troubled Stanley, and but for the immense volume of water that he knew had no eastern outlet, would have shaken his faith in its being the Congo. But, since he passed the last cataract he had noticed that it gradually deflected to the northwest, and now swept by almost due west, having evidently at last started on its journey for the sea. Long islands still divided the river, making, most of the time, two streams and shutting out the opposite banks. Keeping down the right channel, they passed through enchanting scenery, undisturbed by war-drums and savage shouts. Though the water was smooth on their side, over the island, on the other, they could hear the roar of rapids, and a few miles farther down the loud roar of the seventh and last cataract of the "Stanley Falls" burst on their ears, filling the solitude with its loud thunder. The river here was over a mile wide, and the fall of such an immense body of water over a high ledge made the earth tremble. It was one incessant fight, either with the savages or with nature, and it seemed as if fate determined to wear out these indomitable men. Soon the loud war-drums, and horns, and battle-shouts were mingled with the roar of the cataract, showing that here, too, they must fight before they could get below it. Dropping down as near as it was safe to the commencement of the rapids, they pulled ashore and pitched their camp in a dense forest. Fearful of being attacked before they could intrench, they immediately set to work with their axes to throw together a brushwood fence, while thirty soldiers were stationed in front toward the river, to repel assault. They had hardly completed it before the naked cannibals were upon them with a fury that threatened to break through their defenses. All this time out from the woods, adown the gorge through which the river plunged, war-drums and horns were heard summoning the thickly-scattered villages to the scene of combat. Before the steady fire of the musketeers the savages suffered so severely that at sunset they abandoned the attack and withdrew. Stanley now secured his boats and strengthened the brushwood fence, and laid his plans for the morning. The camp was roused at five o'clock, and they pushed on to a point nearer the falls, so that the work of carrying around them was completed before the Wangas opened battle. Everything being made secure, they waited for the expected attack to begin, but, no enemy appearing, Stanley sent out scouts to ascertain what they were about. They brought back word that no savages were to be seen. On advancing to the villages, Stanley found to his astonishment that they were all deserted. Why, or whither they had fled was a profound mystery. Here was a town or cluster of villages, each with four or five streets running through it, and capable of containing two thousand inhabitants, deserted in a single night. The silence of death reigned over it. Left thus at peace, he began to turn his attention to the falls. He found the river here in this terrific gorge was contracted to less than one-third of its breadth a short distance above, and hence flowed with a power and strength that can hardly be conceived. Crowded together, the waters struggled and leaped, and tore onward with a wildness and fury like the Niagara River below the falls. He here found baskets tied to long poles set to catch fish. They emptied some of these and found about thirty fish, of a different species from any known in our waters. These fish-baskets showed that they were now among savages that did not depend wholly on human flesh for subsistence. The villages, houses, and various implements and articles of household furniture were far in advance of those among the cannibals above them. At the same time the people here seemed more alert, fearless and determined. The carry around these falls was not interrupted, and the immense labor of transporting so many boats and so much baggage along a rough-cut path was cheerfully performed. The next day, however, while congratulating themselves on the changed condition of things, they saw a large number of canoes approaching, and soon a musket-shot rang over the water, and one of Stanley's men fell. A new peril now threatened them--they found the natives armed with Portuguese muskets. Though it was a sure sign that they were approaching the coast, it showed also that hereafter it was to be fire-arms against fire-arms, not rifles against spears and arrows; and if the natives continued hostile, the destruction of the expedition seemed certain with such odds against it. Heretofore, in every combat the men picked up a number of native shields, almost as big as doors, which they preserved. In battle, the women and children would hold these before the soldiers, which was the chief reason why there had been so few casualties when fighting from the boats; but if bullets hereafter were to be fired, these would be of no use. Still there was nothing left but to fight to the last. This changed condition of things caused Stanley the greatest anxiety. He, however, formed his boats in line of battle and the firing commenced--the natives after every discharge retiring to reload. Stanley's soldiers fired so rapidly, and with such deadly effect, that after an hour had past the natives withdrew, and the expedition moved off and was soon lost to sight amid the innumerable islands that studded the river, and each of which was loaded with the most luxuriant vegetation. The next day they floated down the river undisturbed, the islands growing more numerous as it expanded, until now it had become several miles wide. On one island they saw an immense elephant standing amid the trees, but no one proposed to stop and kill him, though his huge tusks were a tempting sight; there was too much at stake to think of hunting the great crocodiles and hippopotami and other amphibious monsters, who made the channels around these islands their home. The next day, the 13th of February, they suddenly came upon a large number of villages. They were hidden from view, till the boats were so close upon them that it was too late to retreat. The next minute the forest resounded with the loud war-drums and ivory horns, while the fierce war-cries had changed their character and sounded like nothing human Stanley had ever heard. Bright gun-barrels gleamed above the light, graceful boats as they came swiftly on. But as they drew near the natives seemed to be filled with such strange wonder at the novel spectacle of two white men, that they did not fire, but sat and stared at them as if they had been ghosts. They followed for five miles in dead silence, when one of them fired and killed an Arab. In an instant, the boats wheeled and opened such a rapid fusillade that the savages retreated. But, when Stanley again resumed his downward course they turned and followed again, hovering like hawks around him for five miles, but making no attack. They were now just above the equator, and were moving south-west. The next morning the islands were so thick that they shut out both banks, but keeping on down stream they at length came upon a village, and attempted to pass it unobserved, but the tap of a drum showed that they were observed, and their hearts sank within them at the prospect of another fight. In a few minutes drum was answering drum in every direction, and soon the savages were seen manning their canoes. Stanley, seeing his men were worn down by this incessant fighting, made them a short speech, telling them if they must die it should be with their guns in their hands. He had come to have great contempt for the natives on the water so long as they were without fire-arms. He could soon scatter them and keep them at a respectful distance with his rifles, but when it should be five hundred muskets against his forty guns, the whole character of the struggle would be changed. As they quietly floated down, canoe after canoe filled with gayly-decorated savages shot out into the river, till an immense fleet of them was in pursuit. Stanley ordered his men to cease paddling and wait their approach, determined, if possible, to make peace. But, while he was standing up holding out cloth and wire and making peaceful gestures, the crew of one canoe fired into his boat, wounding three men. There was nothing left now but to fight, and soon the crash of fire-arms awoke the echoes of the forest-covered shores. The men had raised their shields, and to their joy found them a perfect protection, as the enemy fired bits of iron and copper, that could not penetrate them any more than the native arrows. As the fight went on other canoes arrived, until Stanley counted sixty-three canoes which he estimated carried five guns apiece, which would make three hundred and fifteen to his forty-four--a desperate odds truly, and if the Africans' guns had been loaded with bullets, they would have doubtless then and there ended the expedition. It is a little curious that whenever Stanley gets into a desperate strait that even his boldness and pluck cannot help him out of, some unforeseen thing comes to his aid, and he escapes. [Illustration: BOAT FIGHT WITH THE SAVAGES.] In this case his rifles had much longer range and greater penetrating force than the old-fashioned muskets, so most of the enemy kept at a distance of a hundred yards. One brave fellow, however, kept dashing up to within fifty yards and firing, till he was wounded. It was a lucky thing for Stanley that their guns were poor, their cartridges feeble and their aim bad. At length the fire began to slacken, and dwindling down to now and then a random shot, before six o'clock it ceased altogether. The fight being over, the men laid down their guns and once more took up their paddles and were soon out of sight of their enemies, and at sunset they camped on an island that lay amid a nest of islets. The next day, the 15th, they continued their journey and for three days were unmolested and allowed to enjoy the magnificent scenery amid which they floated; but they had little inclination to admire scenery, for they were half-starved, not having been able to purchase a particle of food for a week. On the 19th they came to a great river, the largest tributary they had yet seen, pouring an enormous volume of black water into the Livingstone. It now began to look as if, having escaped death by battle and the cataracts, they were about to yield to famine. They met fishermen, but these would have nothing to do with them. On the 19th, nine days since they had been able to purchase any provisions, they came to Ikengo, where to their great joy they found friendly natives. The next day Stanley held a market on the island where he had encamped, to which the neighboring chiefs came, as well as the villagers. Trade was brisk and before night he had a bountiful supply of sheep, goats, bananas, flour, sweet potatoes and various tropical fruits, for which he exchanged cloth, beads and wire. The men revelled in the unexpected abundance, and hope and joy took the place of gloom and discontent. The next day they resumed their apparently endless journey, and floated peacefully amid green islands, scattered like gems over the broad bosom of the now friendly stream. On the 23d, while floating quietly down, word was brought Stanley that the wife of one of the Arab chiefs, who had been sick for some time, was dying, and he pulled his boat alongside of the one in which she lay. She knew she was going, and bade him an affectionate good-bye. Soon after she expired. At sunset a weight was tied to her body, and she was dropped into the waters of the river, and left to sleep in this lonely bed, far away from the cocoa-nuts and mangoes of her native land. Their course now led them among beautiful islets, made gay by the rich plumage of tropical birds. Occasionally they met a few canoes, but no hostility was exhibited. On the 27th, they came upon natives fishing, who at once showed themselves to be friendly, and exhibited no distrust at all. It was a new revelation to the wanderers. Hitherto, it was only after the most patient waiting and persevering efforts that they could gain the confidence of the savages, if, indeed, they secured it at all. Here it was freely given, and they directed them to a good camping place, on an island from whence they looked across to the fields and villages of Chumbiri, where these fishermen belonged. The fishermen then departed, to report to their king, who sent them back with presents of food, and a promise that he would visit the camp. True to his word, he appeared next day, escorted by five canoes filled with soldiers, carrying muskets. He wore a curious hat, was very cool and self-possessed in his manner, and inclined to be sociable. He took snuff incessantly, and in enormous quantities. After a long conversation, he invited them to make his village their home, and Stanley, wishing to learn all he could of the river below, accepted the invitation, and the expedition crossed the river and was received in savage pomp. A grand market was held, and exchanges freely made. The women did not seem to be of the pure African blood, being brown instead of black, with large eyes, beautifully shaped shoulders, and altogether very pretty. They were fond of ornaments, some of them wearing thirty pounds of brass wire around their necks. Stanley estimated that the forty wives, six daughters and the female slaves of the king carried on their necks about one thousand four hundred pounds of brass wire. He stayed here a week, enjoying the hospitality of the king, who, in addition to all his other kindnesses, gave him three canoes, as an escort, and on the 7th of March he turned the prows of his boats again down stream. That night they encamped in a jungle, into which two immense serpents crawled, one of which was killed just as he began to twine his folds about a woman. It measured thirteen feet and a half in length, and fifteen inches round the body. Having passed tributary after tributary, they went ashore on the morning of the 9th to cook breakfast. The women were busily engaged in preparing it, when they were startled by loud musket shots and six of the men fell. They had been taken completely by surprise, but springing to their guns, they dashed into the woods and a fierce fight followed, which lasted an hour. It was one incessant crack of musketry, each one sheltering himself as best he could. The savages were finally driven off, but not until they had wounded fourteen of Stanley's men. This was the sharpest fight he had yet had, and if it were a fair prelude to what was to follow, the expedition would soon consist of nothing but wounded men. It is astonishing, that in all these fights, of which this was the thirty-second and last, neither Stanley nor Pocoke should receive a wound. After the wounded men had been attended to, they again set out and floated peacefully down, not suspecting any danger, until they approached a settlement which suddenly swarmed with excited armed men. Rowing away as fast as possible, they soon got clear of the village, and encamped three miles below. The next day the voyage was charming, taking them through beautiful and ever-changing scenery. Nothing occurred to mar their pleasure the following day except a fierce south wind, which now began to set in regularly every day, making the river exceedingly rough for the canoes, especially at this point, where the river expanded to nearly two miles in width. This great breadth extended as far as the eye could reach, and, hemmed in by cliffs, it resembled a pool, which young Pocoke christened "Stanley Pool." Paddling slowly down this pool, they passed several villages. Makoneh, the chief of one, proved very kind and hospitable, and offered to conduct Stanley to the next cataract. As they swept down, they halted at a friendly village, the chief of which inquired how they expected to get over the mighty falls below. He was a bluff, genial, good-souled negro, who seemed glad to assist them in any way in his power, and finally offered to guide them to the cataract. Moving down, soon its low roar was heard swelling over the forest, gradually increasing as they advanced till it rose like a continuous thunder-peal from the solitude below. Makoneh led the way, and just skirting the first line of breakers he landed on a pebbly beach. The village of Itsi was in sight, he being the petty king of a neighboring tribe. Some canoes soon crossed from it, and were received so kindly that the natives went back with such wonderful stories to their king that next day he paid Stanley a visit. He came in a large canoe carrying eighty-six persons. It was over eighty-five feet long, and propelled by sixty paddlers. These, standing up and keeping time with their strokes to the steady beat of a drum, sent the boat like an arrow through the water and made a stirring picture as they dashed up to Stanley's camp. There were several gray-headed men present, one of whom was introduced to Stanley as the king. The latter noticed that the rest laughed heartily at this, which afterwards turned out to be a practical joke. However, Stanley sat down with the venerable person in amicable conversation, while a young native and Frank seemed to strike up a warm friendship for each other, or at least the native for Pocoke, judging by the way he pressed presents on him. It seemed strange to Stanley that the young savage should give twice as much to Frank as the king gave to him, but it now came out that this young man was the king, and the aged man Stanley had been conversing with was merely one of his counselors. Stanley at once changed his attention, and asked him what present would please him. The royal young savage had been looking about at the various things in camp, and seeing a very large goat, told Stanley that he wished "big goat." Now this happened to be the last thing the latter wished to part with. A lady in England had requested him to bring back a goat of this very breed, and he had purchased several, of which this alone had survived the long and dangerous journey. He therefore endeavored to bribe the young king by doubling the other presents he had prepared. No, he would have the "big goat." Stanley then offered to give him an ass instead. At this the savage seemed to hesitate. The donkey was very desirable, but at this critical moment the animal sent up a huge bray, which so frightened the women that he would not take him. Other tempting offers were made but nothing would do but the "big goat," and as Stanley was short of provisions (the men having squandered those the king of Chambiri had given them), and as he must have these, he reluctantly turned over the big goat and the young king departed highly delighted. The next day he returned bringing three ordinary goats in exchange and some provisions. Soon the kings or chiefs of other neighboring tribes came in bringing fruit, and everything was harmonious, and treaties of amity were made with all. The one with Itsi was quite ceremonious. Among other things, he gave Stanley a white powder as a charm against evil, in return for which, the latter, with all due gravity, presented him with a half-ounce vial full of magnesia as the white man's charm. This and blood-brotherhood closed the formal proceedings of the treaty-making powers--quite as important, in their way, as similar councils in civilized countries. Stanley found by observation that though he had traveled from Nyangwe over one thousand two hundred miles, he had descended not quite a thousand feet. CHAPTER XXIV. AMONG THE CATARACTS. It is a little singular, that in this age of inquiry and persistent effort to get at the cause of things, no one has yet attempted to explain the reason of tribal differences. Aborigines occupying the same parallels of latitude and longitude, subject to the same influences of climate, living on the same diet, are different in color, features, and more than all, in disposition. The real, or supposed influences, that lie at the bottom of the different races, do not apply here. Difference of origin, of climate, of food, all these must have great effect in changing color, features and character, and hence, to a certain extent, explain how such distinct nationalities exist, but they do not in the least account for tribal differences where all these are the same, and where there are not even barriers of mountains and rivers separating them. Why should our western Indian tribes, roaming over the same prairies, living on the same food, and similar in all their modes of life, be yet so different in form, feature and disposition? Is there really no way of getting a satisfactory, true explanation of all this? So in Africa, Stanley crossed the continent in the same general range of latitude. The savages he met were all dwellers of the equatorial region, and hence lived in the same climate, used the same food, dressed in the same way, and lived the same life, and yet they were as dissimilar as different nationalities. If any educational influences had been brought to bear upon them one could understand this, but none have been exerted. These same tribal differences Stanley found on the Congo. Fierce cannibals and gentle agricultural people were living side by side. Suspicious, faithless men, differing very little from the better class of monkeys, lived neighbors to tribes unsuspicious and trustful, and wonderfully advanced in the arts of mechanism. At the falls, which were named "Stanley Falls," the natives were suspicious, faithless, cruel, but when he reached the Livingstone Falls, he found the people hospitable, kind and trustful. When this difference burst on Stanley practically, he felt it sensibly, but he philosophically dismissed it with the simple remark, such "is the effect of trade." We cannot accept this explanation at all, for they had no trade with the outside world, and they showed the same kindly natures before _he_ commenced trading with them. The only evidence of their connection with civilized life was that they had muskets, and yet the very first tribe which possessed them was the most fierce, implacable and relentless he met with. This ethnological question has never yet been settled. Still it is not singular that Stanley did not just then trouble himself with it. As long as the difference existed and was now in his favor he was content, as well he might be. The friendly natives at the head of these falls assured him that he had passed the cannibal country, but they differed materially as to the number of falls below--one making them three, another a half dozen or more. No matter whether they were few or many, they must be passed, though he dragged his canoes over lofty mountains to do it. But if the differences in the character of the natives was great, that in the character of the scenery and aspect of the river was no less so. The wild, fierce savages had become tame, while the gently flowing river, studded with green islands, had become wild and fierce and angry. The gradually descending plain was transformed into the terrific gorge over which hung beetling cliffs, and the placid current into a roaring torrent dashing amid rocks, plunging over precipices, and filling the solitudes with an ever-angry voice. Hostile savages were behind, but hostile nature was before the adventurers, to whom there would be no rest till they found the restless sea. Immediately before them were two stretches of rapids and then a cataract. The first was a mere piece of broken water that was easily passed. Having no fear of hostile natives, Stanley leisurely explored both river and shore to ascertain the best way of getting around the second rapids. The goods, asses, women and children were taken overland, while the boats were led with hawsers from rock to rock along the shore. Fortunately not a rope broke, and by five o'clock the rapids were passed and all were in camp together. The last of the rapids Stanley declared to be the wildest stretch of water he had ever seen. For four miles the river looked as if thrown upward by volcanic action beneath and at the same time swept by a fierce hurricane above, and all the while it was dashing madly on at the rate of thirty miles an hour. Huge troughs would be formed, as if the stream was yawning asunder, and then the divided water would come together with a crash, sending up columns twenty feet high to dissolve in foam and spray. The crash of colliding waves and the steady roar of the rapids were awful. It was literally a "hell of waters." The land carriage around this wild stretch was a rough piece of work. Paths of brushwood were made, and the canoes slowly hauled up rocky heights and slid down into deep gullies--the women and children toiling after. They were nearly four days getting around this four miles of impassable rapids. The men were fainting for want of food when smooth water was at last reached. This, however, continued but a short distance, when they had to take to land again and haul their boats over a rocky point for three-quarters of a mile. This task took three days to accomplish. When it is remembered that one of the canoes was eighty-five feet long, and another seventy-five and dug out of a solid tree, we can get some conception of the tremendous effort it required to transport them over rocks and hills. When smooth water was again reached, it gave them only a short respite. Stanley, however, found it necessary to halt and give the people rest, for the tremendous strain of the last week was telling fearfully on them. On the 25th, they found themselves once more confronted by ugly rapids. In endeavoring to lead the boats around them, the best canoe was dragged by the mere force of the current from the hands of fifty men and whirled down the mad stream and dashed to pieces. Toiling amid the rocks several men were injured, one having his shoulder dislocated, while Stanley fell into a chasm thirty feet deep, but fortunately struck on his feet, and thus escaped with some slight bruises, though he was very much stunned. On the 27th, they succeeded in getting past this "cauldron," as it was called, although they narrowly escaped losing their largest canoe. The next day they had smooth water for a short distance and then they came to "Rocky Falls." These, however, were passed with comparative ease and two men were sent forward to explore. They reported, on their return, that about a mile below was another cataract, and that at its head was an excellent camping place in a sheltered bay. Stanley determined to reach this spot before dark, and so, manning his seventeen remaining canoes, he led the way, hugging the shore, so as not to get into the suction of the water above the falls. All were told to follow him and by no means to venture out into the middle of the stream. Keeping close to the right bank, he felt his way carefully onward and at last floated into the tranquil bay, at the head of the fall. Three canoes followed him, and as he was waiting for the others to come in he saw, to his horror, the largest canoe in midstream and coming down like a race-horse. Kalulu had charge of this, and deceived by the smooth, glassy surface of the stream, he had pulled out into midcurrent. The moment he was caught by it his doom and that of the four men with him was sealed. There was nothing to be done by those on shore but to watch the swiftly-gliding boat till it shot over the edge of the falls to disappear in the tumult below. Three of the men were Stanley's especial favorites, and he felt their loss keenly. While his eyes was yet resting on the spot where they had gone down, another canoe shot in sight, driving straight for the falls. Fortunately, it struck them at the least dangerous point and went over safely, then, skillfully working the canoe toward the shore, its two inmates sprang overboard and swam to land. Stanley immediately dispatched his boat's crew up-stream to tell the rest to hug the shore, and in no case to venture out into the stream. Before they reached the canoes, another one, with only the lad Soudi, shot by, he crying, as he was borne swiftly onward, "There is but one God--I am lost, master," and the next moment he too dropped out of sight. Strange to say, though the canoe was whirled about at the bottom like a spinning-top, it did not sink, and was finally swept out of sight behind an island. The rest of the canoes arrived safely. [Illustration: DEATH OF KALULU.] The next day Stanley sent Frank to bring over the goods to where he was encamped, while he himself traded with the natives, whom he found very friendly, and from whom he obtained abundant provisions. After resting one day, they got everything round the falls and encamped on the 1st of April. In the afternoon, to the surprise and joy of all, young Soudi walked into camp. He had a strange story to tell. He was borne helplessly down the rapids, confused and dizzy, till at last the boat drifted against a rock, when he jumped out and got on shore. Before he had time to think where he was, he was seized from behind and pinioned, and dragged to the top of the mountain by two men, who stripped and examined him with great curiosity. The next day several of the tribe came to see him, one of whom had been in Stanley's camp when King Itsi visited it, and he told such terrible stories about Stanley and of his gun that could shoot all day, that they became frightened and took Soudi back to the place where they had found him, and told him to speak well of them. The other two men who had gone safely over the fall, and also joined the camp. Proceeding on down-stream they came to more rapids, in passing which they met many narrow escapes. It was, indeed, a succession of rapids, and while Stanley conducted the boats through them, Frank took the rest of the party and goods overland. The former examined every inch of the way carefully before starting. Thus day after day passed, they continually fighting the relentless river. Sometimes the water was too rough to admit the passage of the boats, and then they had to be carried overland. It was slow and tedious work, and but little progress was made. The question each one kept asking himself was, how long will this last and when shall we see smooth water again? Each day was but the repetition of its predecessor, and if the natives had been as hostile as those farther up the river, they could not have got on at all. The only variation was when the river took some new whim or the formation of the country required more effort and new modes of getting on. Thus one day they undertook to lead the canoes by hawsers around a rocky point where the eddies set up-stream with the strength and velocity of a torrent, so that it seemed impossible to get them down-stream. To add to the difficulty, the cliffs on the top of which the men with the hawsers stood, were fifty feet high and their jagged edges sawed the ropes till they parted one after another. So creeping along the shore to-day, and daring the midstream, which, though boisterous, was clear of rocks, to-morrow, they kept on, hoping after the next stretch to reach a quiet flowing river. The Lady Alice fared hard in this perilous navigation, and once came near being lost. All this time the resources of the expedition were being exhausted, for though the natives were friendly everything had to be paid for, and it was not difficult to answer the question, "How long will our remaining currency last?" The next rapids they came to Stanley named the "Lady Alice Rapids," because, as we suppose, both he and the boat escaped almost by a miracle from sharing one sad fate in the wild and mad waters of the Livingstone. The cables lashed to bow and stern, to let the boat down, parted, or were snatched from the hands on shore, and away she dashed down the foaming current. Above, the naked cliffs rose three hundred feet high--around boiled and tossed the tumultuous waters, and certain destruction seemed to await the man who had triumphed over so many obstacles and who at last was nearing the goal of his ambition. The Arabs, whose life depended on his life, were in despair--their master was gone--there was no one left to lead them out of this strange wilderness. Nothing but the coolness of Stanley saved him and his crew. Watching every change in the flow of the current--resigning himself to the wild will of the mad waters when struggling was useless--taking advantage of every favorable change of the current and bidding his men row for life at the right time, he at length reached shore, and at once sent messengers to his despairing camp to tell them he was safe. He knew, and they knew, that all their lives hung on his. He had a narrow escape, and the natives on shore, as they watched his boat flung about like a cockle-shell in the boiling surge, looked upon him as lost. If Stanley wanted any new proof of the affection of his Arabs for him, he had it now. He had been able, after his fierce struggle with the rapids and being carried, in the meantime, over one fall, to reach land at least two miles below his camp, in which he was looked upon as lost. When, therefore, the message was received that he was alive and safe, his followers streamed forth in one confused mass, and hastening down the river, came in a long, straggling line in sight of Stanley, waving their arms on high, shouting words of welcome and overwhelming him with expressions of exuberant joy. This involuntary outburst of feeling and gratitude that their "master" was safe, repaid him tenfold for all the suffering and peril he had endured. It is strange, when such momentous results hang on a single life, how we go on as though nothing depended upon it till the moment comes when we are about losing it. The men, women and children had joined in this grand exodus to congratulate Stanley on his deliverance from what appeared certain death, and the men now returned to bring the goods to this point where the new camp was pitched. Not twenty rods from it the Nikenke River came foaming and tumbling into the Livingstone from a precipice one thousand feet high, with a terrific roar and rumble. Almost as near, another tributary dashed over a ledge four hundred feet high, while just above was the wild rapids he had just passed, and just below another stretch of swift and tumbling water. The din of these surrounding cataracts made a fearful, terrific music in these mysterious solitudes, and awakened strange feelings in Stanley, as he lay and listened and wondered what would come next. The sharp crash of the near cataract tumbling from its height of a thousand feet, the low rumble of the lower fall and the deep boom of the mighty river made up a grand diapason there in the wilds of Central Africa. West from the great lakes the continent seemed to stretch in one vast plateau, across which the river moved in placid strength, its gently sweeping current parted with beautiful islands, that filled the air with perfume exhaled from countless flowers and tropical plants, and making a scene of loveliness that intoxicated the senses. But all this was marred by the presence of blood-thirsty cannibals, whose war-drums and savage cries filled this world of beauty with terrific sounds and nameless fears. But the moment the stream reached the edge of this plateau, where man seemed to become more human, it rolled into cataracts and rapids, down a steep incline, till it came to the sea. Canoes were upset and lost, and men were barely saved from death by expert swimming during these fearful days, and yet Stanley could get no reliable information from the natives how far down this remorseless stretch of water extended. This terrible struggle, which the party underwent, and the exhausting nature of their work may be faintly imagined when it is stated that for thirty-seven consecutive days they _made less than a mile a day_. It was a constant succession of rapids from the middle of March to the latter part of April. At length, on the 22d, they came to the "big cataract," called by the natives Inkisi, which Stanley fondly believed would be the last. The table-land here is one thousand feet high, and the natives occupying it flocked into Stanley's camp, curious to know how he was to get his canoes past the falls. When he told them he was going to drag them over that table-land one thousand feet high, they looked at him in speechless astonishment. His own men were thunderstruck when he announced to them his determination. But they had become so accustomed to believe he could do anything he resolved upon, that they silently acquiesced. The natives, as they looked at the heavy canoes and then on the lofty height, with its steep, craggy ascent, took their departure and began to climb back to their homes to secure their property, for they said, if the white man intended to fly his boats over the mountains, they did not know what terrible things might next happen. Having settled on the undertaking, Stanley immediately set to work to carry it out, and the first day built a road nearly a mile long. The next day the Lady Alice and a small canoe were resting on the high summit. The work was done so quietly and without any disastrous results to life and property, that the native chiefs were dumb with admiration and offered to bring six hundred men next day to help haul up the heavy canoes. They kept their word, and soon boats and baggage were in camp on the top of the mountain. Sending off a party ten miles ahead to prepare the natives for his coming, Stanley took the women and children, with the goods and boat's crew, on to the next tribe to make a camp near the river, for the purpose of exploring the defile through which he was finally to work his way. He had found many articles of English make among the natives, showing that he was approaching the coast from which these must have been obtained. They had not, however, been brought there by traders, but had worked their way up from market to market along the river. The sight of them was encouraging to the members of the expedition who were getting worn out, while disease also prevailed to a large extent and threatened to increase. Still they might be a great way off from the coast yet, in time if not in distance, if they continued to make but one mile a day. Hence Stanley had to be very economical in everything, especially in the use of meat, though the constant and terrible mental and physical strain on him made it necessary that he should have the most nourishing food. For lack of this in a simple form, he concocted a dish out of vegetables, fruit and oil, which proved to him a great benefit. CHAPTER XXV. EXPERIENCES BY THE WAY. It was the 29th of April when Stanley gave his last instructions to his Arab chiefs about getting the canoes down the mountain to Nzabi, the home of the next tribe west. On his way he entered a magnificent forest--the tall and shapely trees of which reminded him of his early wanderings in the wilds of Arkansas and on our western frontiers. It was not strange, while looking at them, that he should be reminded of the "dug-outs" of the Indians which he had so often seen, and that the thought should occur to him to make some canoes, to take the place of those which he had lost in the passage of the rapids and falls above. It seems as if his early life had prepared him especially for all the contingencies that were to occur in his long and varied explorations in Africa. After thinking the matter over a short time, he resolved that the boats should be built, and having obtained permission of the chief of the district, he at once commenced operations. The first tree selected was more than three feet in diameter and ran up sixty feet straight before it reached a limb. As soon as it was prone on the ground the men were set to work in sections upon it, and in a week it was finished. In a week more another was completed, measuring forty-five feet in length and eighteen inches deep. All this time the canoes were advancing over the land at the rate of a little more than a third of a mile a day, and finally they reached camp the day before the second boat was finished. Things, however, had gone badly in the camp on the mountain-top after Stanley left, for the Arabs, following their apparently natural propensity, began to steal. One man, who had been caught in the act, was seized and made a prisoner by the natives who resolved to keep him as a slave. Stanley spent an entire day negotiating for his redemption, and finally had to give one hundred and fifty dollars' worth of cloth to get him released. It was plain that he could not afford to redeem many men at this price, and he distinctly told them that if after this any of them were caught stealing, they would be left in the hands of the natives, to be held as slaves for life. A terrible punishment, yet as it proved not great enough to deter them from committing the same crime afterwards, as opportunity offered. The labor of the men engaged in hauling the canoes over the high mountain had been so great, that Stanley felt that some days of rest were demanded to recuperate them. But as idleness was always the fruitful source of all kinds of evil with the Arabs, he determined to keep the men who had hewed out the two boats still at work, and set them to making a third canoe. The chief of this district now informed Stanley, greatly to his surprise and disappointment, that there were five falls immediately below him, while how many lay between these and the sea no one could tell. No matter; he must still move on, and, for the present, cling to the river on account of the sick, if for no other reason. On the 18th, he sent off a man to get some axes repaired by a native blacksmith. While the latter was engaged in the work, a spark flew from the anvil against the body of one of his children playing near by, burning him slightly. The enraged man asserted that the accident was owing to a wicked charm of the stranger, and, running out, he beat the war-drum, at which the excited natives assembled in great fury, and the poor Arab was in danger of immediate immolation, when the chief happened to arrive and saved him. On May 22d, the great teak canoe, the third which had been built, and which Stanley named Livingstone, was launched in the creek just above its entrance into the river amid the shouts of the natives. It could carry forty-six people. So far as means of transportation was concerned, Stanley was now at ease--but would there ever be a peaceful river on which these twelve canoes could float? It was now the 22d of May, and since the 24th of February there had been forty rainy days, and hence for the month they had been working their slow, tedious way over the ridges and mountains, the river had been continually rising and now, more than eleven feet above its usual height, it was rolling in a grand, resistless flood through the gorges. Thunder and lightning had accompanied the storms, lighting up the wild river, drowning its fierce roar and drenching the wanderers, till it seemed as if heaven itself was leagued with the natives and the cataracts to drive them to despair and to destruction. The river was still rising, and the rush and roar of the waters were only less terrific than the deafening thunder-peels that shook the chasm in which they were confined. Still they must move on, even though it should be to greater horrors and more desperate conditions and a darker fate. So on the 23d of May they set out, and carrying around a short fall in the creek on the banks of which they had been encamping, and ascending a mountain, they pushed slowly on for three miles over a plateau--the sick and suffering complaining bitterly, while the well were almost ready to give out and die then and there on the shores of the river. Every fall was expected to be the last, and yet each proved the forerunner only of a worse one to come. From this creek Stanley led those of the expedition who could walk to the head of the Mowwa Falls. Frank, whose lame foot did not permit him to walk, took the Lady Alice, followed by the canoes, out of the mouth of the creek, to coast carefully along down the river to the same camping-place. In the meantime, Stanley, who had arrived first, took a long and anxious survey of the terrific scene before him. At the head of the falls, where he stood on a grassy plot, a ledge of rock twelve feet high ran straight across the river like a wall for a mile and a quarter and then stopped. From the end to the opposite shore it was a clear space of a little more than a quarter of a mile, through which the compressed river rushed with a strength and shout and fury that were appalling. This wall of rock, however, was not solid--here and there it was cut through as if by some mighty blow, making separate channels that had a fall of twelve feet. Below, as far as the eye could reach, treeless mountains arose nearly a mile into the heavens, while halfway up from the mad river, that tore with the sound of thunder along their bases, perpendicular cliffs stood walling in this awful embodiment of power. A scene of more utter desolation cannot be imagined than was here presented to his view in this solitary spot. The camp seemed a mere speck amid these gigantic outlines of mountain and river. As he thus looked and listened, awe-struck and subdued, he saw Frank in the Lady Alice coming through the rapids at a terrific pace. This was the first time Frank had attempted such a feat, and he got confused, and was finally thrown into the worst part of the rapids, and in his frantic struggles to release himself, he struck a rock and stove a hole six inches square into the boat. However, all were landed in safety, though Stanley mourned greatly over the severe injury to his boat, which thus far had escaped all harm. It took him a whole day to repair it. Two days after, the goods were transferred below and the boats dropped carefully through the ledge near the shore, where the water was less rough, and reached the camp below the great falls in safety. While resting here there occurred one of the most interesting scenes of this whole remarkable journey. In the transportation of goods over the mountains robberies of beads, etc., had been committed, and now the last man in the whole party Stanley would wish to have accused of theft was found guilty--the noble, brave, reliable and kind Uledi. True as steel in the hour of danger, quiet, obedient, thinking nothing of his life if Stanley asked him to risk it, he had yet stolen--not things of ordinary value, but that on which their very existence might depend. Cloth was getting so plenty among the natives that its value was very much decreased, but beads were worth ten times their weight in gold, and these Uledi had stolen and hidden in his mat. Of course this must be stooped at all hazards and at whatever sacrifice, still Stanley would almost as soon have lost his hand as to leave Uledi, as he had threatened he would the next man he caught stealing, in the hands of the savages as a slave forever. He therefore called the chiefs together and made them a speech, in which he clearly showed them that their lives depended on putting a stop to theft, for if they were left without anything to buy provisions with they all would inevitably perish of famine before they reached the sea. He also asked them what should be done with Uledi, on whom stolen goods had been found. The principal chief would not answer for some time, but being urged to give his opinion said at last: It was very hard, seeing it was Uledi. Had it been anybody else he declared he would vote to pitch him into the river, but now he gave his vote for flogging. The rest of the chiefs concurred with him. Stanley then turned to the boat's crew, of which Uledi was coxswain and by whom he was dearly loved. The principal one and the most relied on, the watchman of the boat, replied, "Ah, it is a hard question, master. He is like our elder brother; but, as the fathers of the people have spoken, be it so; yet, for our sakes, master, beat him _just a little_." He next accosted Zaidi, by whose side Uledi had clung all night in the midst of the cataract, and had saved his life by risking his own. He replied, "Remember it is Uledi, master." Next he addressed Uledi's brother, who cried "Spare Uledi, but, if he must be flogged, give me half of it, I shall not feel it if it is for Uledi." Last of all he asked the poor culprit's cousin, when he replied in a speech that the London Athenæum, in quoting it, said would stand beside that of Jeanie Dean's when pleading for her sister. It occurred thus: The poor fellow asked, "Will the master give his slave liberty to speak?" "Yes," replied Stanley. He then came forward, and kneeling before him and clasping his feet with his hands, said: "The master is wise. All things that happen he writes in a book. Each day there is something written. We black men know nothing, neither have we any memory. What we saw yesterday is to-day forgotten. Yet the master forgets nothing. Perhaps, if the master will look into his book, he may see something in it about Uledi. How Uledi behaved on Lake Tanganika; how he rescued Zaidi from the cataract; how he has saved many men, whose names I cannot remember, from the river--Bill Ali, Mabruki, Kom-kusi and others. How he worked harder on the canoe than any three men; how he has been the first to listen to your voice always; how he has been the father of the boat-boys. With Uledi, master, the boat-boys are good and ready, without him they are nothing. Uledi is Shumari's brother. If Uledi is bad, Shumari is good. Uledi is my cousin. If, as the chiefs say, Uledi should be punished, Shumari says he will take half of the punishment; then give Saywa the other half, and set Uledi free. Saywa has spoken." All this was uttered in a low, humble tone, with his head bowed to Stanley's feet. Stanley could not resist such an appeal, and said: "Very well, Uledi, by the voice of the people, is condemned; but as Shumari and Saywa have promised to take the punishment on themselves, Uledi is set free and Shumari and Saywa are pardoned." The moment the poor fellow was set free, he stepped forward and said: "Master, it was not Uledi who stole--it was the devil which entered into his heart." This touching scene is given, not merely for its pathos, but because these untutored natives, here in the wilds of Africa, illustrated the principles that lie at the very foundation of the Christian religion. First, they recognized the great fundamental doctrine of atonement--of expiation--the suffering of the innocent in the place of the guilty, by which the offender can be pardoned. In the second place, Uledi uttered over again the sentiments of Paul--when a man's whole nature revolts at the wrong he has done, and hates himself for it, it is not he that commits it, but "sin that dwelleth in him," when he would do good, evil was present with him. It was a happy termination of the affair, for it would have been a cruel act to have had the noble, true, unselfish and brave Uledi suffer the indignity of a whip. Another scene occurred, while in camp, that shows on what an insignificant, nay, ridiculous, thing the fate of a great expedition may turn. One day, Stanley being at leisure took out his note-book and began to write, as was his custom when he had a few hours to himself. The natives who flocked into camp in great numbers daily, noticed him and began to whisper among themselves. The crowd around him gradually increased and began to be strangely agitated, as the word "tara tara" passed from lip to lip, and presently, as if seized by a single impulse, they all ran away. Stanley merely observed the fact without stopping to think what the cause of this sudden abandonment of the camp might be. He therefore went on writing, when suddenly he was startled by loud war-cries ringing far and near over the mountain top, and, two hours after, he saw between five and six hundred natives fully armed rushing down the table-land toward the camp. He quickly mustered his men to be prepared for what seemed an unprovoked attack, but determined, if possible, to avoid a collision. He therefore advanced toward them as they drew near, and, sitting down on the ground, in a friendly tone asked what it all meant and why they had come in such a warlike manner to their friends. A large savage, acting as spokesman, replied that they had seen him make marks on some "tara tara." Those black lines he had drawn on paper, he said, would bring sickness and death and utter ruin on the land, and the people, and animals, unless the book containing them was burnt up. Here was an unexpected dilemma. He must burn up that note-book or fight these five or six hundred armed, desperate savages. But that note-book, the gathered results of nearly three years of exploration, was the most precious thing on earth to him. He was astounded and sorely perplexed at the strange demand--burn up that note-book! He might as well burn up himself. Even if he could remember his main adventures, he could not recall all the observations, plans of maps and routes, and statistics of every kind it contained, and without which the whole expedition was a failure. No, he could not give it up, but what then--fight one against four, all armed with muskets, to retain it? Suppose he could put them to rout, it could not be done without a serious loss of life to himself as well as to them. But this was not the worst of it--with the natives friendly and aiding him as they had done, and supplying him with provisions, it would be almost a miracle if he ever reached the sea-shore; but with them hostile, even if he could fight his way through them, he would certainly perish from famine, for he could obtain no provisions, without which, he and the book would perish together. But, still, he could not give up that book, and he turned over in his mind every conceivable plan of averting the catastrophe. Finally, he told them to wait a moment, while, in the meantime, he stepped back to his tent as if to fetch it. All at once it occurred to him that he might substitute another book for it, if, among his scant collection, he could find one at all resembling it. Turning them over, he came across a volume of Shakespeare of just about the same size. True the binding was different, but those savages knew as little of the peculiar binding of a book as they did of its contents. Besides it lay open on Stanley's knee when they saw it, and they observed only the black lines. However, the attempt to pass it off on these wild savages for the real book was worth making. So taking it in his hand, he walked back to where they stood with ferocious looks waiting for his decision, and handing it to them, told them to take it. No, they would not touch it, he must burn it. Well, Stanley said, he would do anything to please such good friends as they were. So together they went to a camp-fire near by, and solemnly consigned poor Shakespeare to the flames. The natives were delighted at this evidence of Stanley's good-will, and became faster friends than ever. What he would have done had it come to the issue--burn that note-book or fight--he does not tell us. The river had been thoroughly explored for two miles below where they were encamped to the head of Zinga Falls. It was a rough, wild stretch of water, but it was thought it might be passed safely by using great caution and keeping out of the midstream rapids. At all events, Stanley had determined to try it first himself in his own boat--a resolution that nearly cost him his life. The next day, the 3d of June, the attempt was to be made, and Frank passed the evening in Stanley's tent in great spirits, talking and singing songs of merry old England. He was always singing, and most of the time religious songs which he had learned at home. The wilds of Africa had equalized these men, and they held sweet communion together this last night on the banks of the wild river. Frank seemed unusually exhilarated, little dreaming, alas, that the next night his lifeless body would be tossing amid the rocks that lined the bed of the fierce torrent below--his merry songs all hushed--nevermore to while away the weary hours in this dreary solitude of Africa or brighten the life of his England home. CHAPTER XXVI. DEATH OF FRANK POCOKE. Frank Pocoke, as stated previously, joined the expedition under Stanley as a servant, and his brother had fallen at what proved to be the mere outset of the real main expedition, subsequently Frank, by his intelligence, geniality, ability and courage, and perhaps quite as much by the necessity of companionship that Stanley felt the need of in that wild region, and which only a white, civilized man could furnish, had risen above the position he had taken till Stanley looked upon him more as a friend than as a servant. This was natural; he was the only man he could talk with in English; the only man who had the taste and manners of civilized life; the only one who in the long halt could in any way be his companion; and, more than all, the only man who could certainly be depended on to stand by him in the hour of danger to the last, and fall, if fall they must, side by side. Whoever else might prove false in these vast untrodden solitudes, Frank Pocoke, he well knew, would not be one of them. Under such circumstances and conditions, Stanley would not have been the true man he is if he had not lifted the servant up to the place of a friend. It was therefore but natural that in the long mental discussion at Ziangwe as to whether he should return or choose some other route than through the hostile tribes whose territory the waters of the Lualaba washed, or push on at all hazards by following its current to the sea, that he should take his quondam servant into his confidence and they should together talk over all the probabilities of the different routes to be adopted. In another place we have shown what those difficulties were, and what the real or imaginable obstacles were that confronted Stanley if he determined to follow the Lualaba at all hazards to the sea. In speaking of the death of young Pocoke, we wish to show what influence he had at last in fixing the determination that led to his own death and to Stanley's fame as an explorer. One day, while Stanley was discussing with Pocoke the wisest course to pursue, the latter said: "Mr. Stanley, suppose we toss up, to determine whether we shall follow the Lualaba as far as the Lowra, and then strike off for Monbruto, or follow it to the sea?" Stanley, who had become almost indifferent as to whether one course or the other would end his life, agreed, and a toss-up was made, the result being on the side of following the river to the sea. The drawing of straws was then resorted to. Three trials of chances were made, and the decision of fate, as proposed by Pocoke, was to follow the river to the sea. He little thought that accidental toss was a toss-up for his own life, and that so trivial an affair settled his fate forever. We know what was Stanley's final decision, and though he does not acknowledge that this trial by chances had any effect on his final determination, the experience of human nature, since the world began, proves that it must have had. Even Napoleon, who believed that Providence was on the side of the strong battalions, had an equally strong belief in his "star." While it, doubtless, did have more or less influence on Stanley, it did not weaken his faith in the "strong battalions," which was, in his case, a wise provision, so far as he could make it, against all possible and probable contingencies. We have said thus much to show the real relations that Frank Pocoke at last sustained to the expedition. In the long and terrible march through the gloomy forest after leaving Zywague, and before finally launching on the Lualaba, to quit it no more till they reached the sea or lay at rest forever on its solitary banks, Pocoke's shoes had become completely worn out. In traversing, half-barefoot, the tangled undergrowth, they had at last given out entirely, and the result was his feet became chafed, and at last, through constant irritation, caused by the necessity of hastening forward at all hazards, the abrasions that would have healed, could they have made a short halt, became ulcers, so that when they again struck the Lualaba he was unable to walk any farther, and Stanley said that if at any time they would have to leave the river and carry around rapids, Frank would have to be carried also. Stanley always led the way over the rapids and selected the paths for hauling around the canoes, while Pocoke superintended the soldiers, distributed the rations, etc. But now he was placed on the sick-list. On the morning of the 3d of June, they came to the Mowwa Falls, around which they must carry and the men shouldered the goods and baggage and started overland for Zinga, three miles distant, while Stanley attempted to run two small falls, named Massesse and Massassa, with the boat's crew. Hugging the shore for about three-quarters of a mile, they came at last to a lofty cliff, against which the tide threw the down-rushing stream back in such fury that great whirlpools were formed and they steered for the centre of the river and endeavored to stem the tide, but failed. After fighting fiercely against the raging of whirlpools, they tried again to advance in another direction, when Stanley discovered that his boat was fast filling with water, while the surface became still more terribly agitated at a point toward which he had been unconsciously drifting. The danger now became imminent. Shouting to the men to leave off bailing and pull for life for the shore, he threw off his coat, belt and shoes, to be in readiness to swim when the boat should capsize, as he expected it would. A wild whirlpool was near the boat and for a moment it seemed certain that it would drift into the vortex. But by a strong effort it was forced away and they pulled for shore. By the time they had reached it, the leaky boat was half-full of water. Finding it impossible to proceed in it he returned to Mowwa Falls, and after a short rest took a canoe and tried to proceed. But while he was talking with Pocoke, the crew had scattered, and as those who had gone to Zinga had not returned, he determined to go overland and look after the goods, and leave to his chief captain, Manwa Sera, the supervision of the passage of the falls. He told him to first send forward a reserve canoe with short ropes fastened to the sides. "The crew," he said, "will pick their way carefully down the river until near the falls, then let the men judge for themselves whether they are able to take the canoe farther. Above all things stick to the shore and do not play with the river." He then bade Pocoke good-bye, saying he would send him his breakfast immediately with hammock bearers, shook hands and turned to climb the mountain toward the camp. Sending back the breakfast as he had promised, he paid a visit to the kings of Zinga. Becoming anxious about the boats, as this was the first time he had ever permitted any one but himself to lead the way in any dangerous part of the river, he about three o'clock took his glass and going to the shore began to look up the river that came tearing out of the mountain like a wild animal and shaking the shores with its loud thunder. Suddenly he saw something black tossing amid the turbulent water. Scanning it closely, he saw it was an upturned canoe and to its sides several men were clinging. He instantly dispatched two chiefs and ten men to a bend toward which the wreck was drifting. The crew, however, knowing there was another cataract just below, attempted to right the boat and save themselves; but, unable to do so, got on the keel and began to paddle for dear life with their hands toward the shore. As they got near the far bank, he saw them jump off the boat and swim for shore. They had hardly reached it when the overturned boat shot by Stanley like an arrow and with one fierce leap dashed over the brink of the cataract and disappeared in the foam and tumult below. In a few minutes a messenger arrived out of breath, saying that eleven men were in that canoe, only eight of whom were saved--the other three being drowned, one of whom was Pocoke. Stanley turned fiercely on Uledi, his coxswain, and demanded how he came to let Pocoke, a lame man, go in the rescue canoe. "Ah, master," he replied, "we could not help it, he would not wait. He said, 'since the canoe is going to camp I will go too. I am hungry and cannot wait any longer. I cannot walk and I do not want you to carry me, that the natives may all laugh at me. No, I will go with you;' and refusing to listen to Captain Manwa Sera, who remonstrated with him, he got in and told us to cast off. We found no trouble in forcing our way against the back current. We struck the down current, and when we were near the fall I steered her into the cove to take a good look at it first. When I had climbed over the rocks and stood over it, I saw that it was a bad place--that it was useless to expect any canoe to go over it without capsizing, and I went to the little master and told him so. He would not believe me, but sent other men to report on it. They told the same story: that the fall could not be passed by shooting over it in a canoe. Then he said we were always afraid of a little water and that we were no men. 'All right,' I said, 'if you say cast off I am ready. I am not afraid of any water, but if anything happens my master will be angry with me.' 'Cast off,' the little master said, 'nothing will happen; am I not here?' You could not have counted ten, master, before we were all sorry. The cruel water caught us and tossed and whirled us about and shot us here and shot us there, and the noise was fearful. Suddenly the little master shouted 'Look out! take hold of the ropes! and he was tearing his shirt off when the canoe, which was whirling round and round with its bow in the air, was dragged down, down, down, until I thought my chest would burst; then we were shot out into daylight again and took some breath. The little master and two of the men were not to be seen, but soon I saw the little master with his face upward but insensible. I instantly struck out for him to save him, but we were both taken down again and the water seemed to be tearing my legs away; but I would not give in; I held my breath hard then and I came to the surface, but the little master was gone forever. This is my story, master." Stanley then examined the men separately, to ascertain if it were true and found it was. This man was brave but not foolhardy, and the best and most reliable in the whole party. [Illustration: DROWNING OF FRANK POCOKE.] Stanley very briefly expressed the sadness and loneliness of his feelings that night as he sat and looked on the empty tent of young Pocoke, but no language can express the utter desolation of his situation. His position, surroundings, prospects, all combined to spread a pall black as midnight over his spirit and fill his heart with the gloomiest forebodings. Sitting alone in the heart of a country never before trod by the foot of a white man, on the banks of a mysterious river, on whose bosom he was to be borne he knew not where, the gloomy forest stretching away beyond him, the huts of strange natives behind him, the water in deep shadows rushing by, on whose foam and whirlpools his friend had gone down, and whose body then lay tossing amid the broken rocks, the strangely silent tropical sky, brilliant with stars, bending over him, the thoughts of home and friends far away caused a sad and solemn gathering of emotions and feelings around his heart till they rushed over it like that rushing water, and made him inconceivably sad there in the depths of the forest. With no one to talk to in his native tongue, no one to counsel with, without one friend on whom he could rely, left all alone to meet the unknown future, was to be left desolate indeed. Before, he knew there was one arm on which he always could lean, one stout, brave heart that would stand unflinchingly by his side in the deadliest peril, share all his dangers, and go cheerfully to the very gates of death with him. But now he was alone, with none but natives around him, with whom he must meet all the unknown dangers of the untrodden wilderness before him--perhaps be buried by them in the gloomy forest or left to be devoured by cannibals. It was enough to daunt the bravest spirit, appall the stoutest heart, and that lonely night on the banks of the Lualaba will live in Stanley's memory forever. Stanley pronounced a high eulogium on his young friend, saying that he was a true African explorer--he seemed to like the dangers and even the sufferings of the expedition, so well did they harmonize with his adventurous spirit. Quick and resolute, he was always docile and in the heat and excitement of battle would obey Stanley's slightest wish with alacrity. He seemed fitted for an explorer; no danger daunted him, no obstacle discouraged him, while his frame, though slight, was tough and sinewy, and he was capable of undergoing any amount of labor and could endure the heaviest strain. He had so endeared himself to Stanley that the latter said, in a letter to young Pocoke's parents, that his death took away all the joy and exultation he should otherwise have felt in accomplishing the great task the two had undertaken together. CHAPTER XXVII. THE COMPLETED WORK. The next morning Stanley arose with a sad and heavy heart; the cruel, relentless river seemed more remorseless than ever, and its waves flowed on with an angrier voice that seemed full of hate and defiance. Eighty men were still behind, at Mowwa, and the next day word reached Stanley that they had mutinied, declaring they would follow the river no longer, for death was in it. He, borne down with his great loss, paid no attention to the report, and stayed and mourned for his friend for three days before he set out for Mowwa. He found the men sullen, sad and reckless. It would be strange, however, if he could not regain his old influence, which, after much effort, he did. But he did not get all down to Zinga till after four days. Meantime Frank's body had been found floating, face upward, some distance below the falls. All the canoes did not reach Zinga till the 19th, more than a fortnight after Frank's death. On June 20th Stanley began to make preparations to continue on down the river. There had been terribly hard work in passing and getting round the falls where Frank lost his life, but the worst of it was, when they had succeeded, they seemed to have just begun their labors, for it had all to be repeated again. The men had lost all spirit and did not seem to care what became of them; and so, when on the 20th Stanley ordered the men to their work to lay brushwood along the tracks marked out for hauling the canoes from the Pocoke basin around Zinga point into the basin beyond, the men seemed disinclined to move. Stanley, in surprise, asked what was the matter. "We are tired of this," growled a burly fellow, "and that's what's the matter." Stanley soon discovered that he was not alone in his opinion, and though once he would have quelled this spirit of rebellion with prompt, determined action, he did not feel like using harsh measures now, or even harsh language. He knew he had tasked them to the uttermost--that they had followed his bidding unquestioned so far as he ought to ask them, and so he called them together to talk with them and give them an opportunity frankly to tell their grievances. But they had nothing to say, except that they had gone far enough and did not mean to make another effort. Death and famine awaited them, and they might as well give up first as last. Stanley did not attempt even to appeal to them, except indirectly. He simply told them that he too was hungry, and could have had meat, but saved it for them. He too was weary and sad. They might leave him if they chose--he had his boat still, and if he was left alone he had but to step into it--the falls were near, and he would soon be at rest with his friend. It is most pitiful and sad to see how the indomitable will of this strong man had given way. The bold and confident manner with which he set out from Nyangwe--the healthy, cheery tone in which he addressed them when bowed down with grief at the farewell song of Tipo-tipo's Arabs are gone, and in their place had come a great weariness and despair. To see such a strong man forced at last to yield, awakens the deepest sympathy. No wonder he was weary of life, and longed to die. Under his terrible mental and physical strain of the last six months the toughest nature must give way, while to this was added the feebleness that comes from want of food and the utterly dreary, hopeless prospect before him. As he stood amid his dusky followers, his once sinewy frame looked lean and languid, and his voice had a weary, despairing tone. The star of fame that had led him on was gone down, and life itself had lost all its brightness, and when he had done speaking he turned away indifferent as to the future. The men listened, but their hungry, despairing hearts felt no sympathy. They too had reached the point of indifference as to the future, except they would no longer cling to that cruel river, and thirty-one packed their baggage and filed away up the ascent and were soon lost to view. When it was told to Stanley, he inquired how many had gone. Learning that only thirty-one had left, and that the rest would stand by him to the last, he roused himself, and unwilling that the faithful should perish through the disaffection of a few men he sent messengers after the deserters to plead with them to come back. They overtook them five miles away and urged them to return, but in vain. Setting the faithful to work, he dispatched two men to cut off the fugitives and to tell the chiefs not to let them pass through their territory. They obeyed and beat the war-drum, which so terrified the wanderers that they were glad to return. It would seem strange that men who have been accustomed to obey him implicitly for nearly three years, and had stood by him so staunchly in many a fight and through countless perils, could so easily desert him now. But despair will make even a wise man mad, and these poor creatures had got into that hopeless condition which makes all men reckless. Starting off with no definite aim in view, no point to travel toward, shows how desperate they had become. No wonder they saw no hope in clinging to the river, for they had now been over a month going three miles, and it seemed worse than useless to attempt to push further in that direction. On the 23d of June, the work of hauling out the canoes to take them over a hill two hundred feet high was commenced, and by noon three were safely on the summit. Next came the Livingstone, which had been recently made. It weighed some three tons, yet, with the aid of a hundred and fifty natives, they had succeeded in getting it twenty feet up the bank, when the cables parted and it shot swiftly back into the river. The chief carpenter clung to it, and being carried beyond his depth, climbed into it. He was only a short distance above the falls when the brave Uledi, seeing his peril, plunged into the river and swimming to the boat, called out to him to leap overboard instantly. The poor wretch replied that he could not swim. "Jump," shouted Uledi, "you are drifting toward the cataract." The terrified creature, as he cowered in the canoe, faltered out, "I am afraid to." "Well, then," said Uledi, "you are lost--brother, good-bye," and struck out with all his might for the shore. A minute's longer delay, and he, too, would have been lost, for, though a strong swimmer, he was able, only by the most desperate effort, to reach shore less than sixty feet from the brink of the falls. The next minute the canoe was shooting over them into the boiling cauldron below. Tossed up and down and whirled about, it finally went down and was seen no more. The next day the other boats were hauled up and then the process of letting them down commenced. This was done in safety, when the goods were sent overland to the Mbelo Falls beyond, while the boats should attempt to run the rapids There was no abrupt descent, but a wild waste of tumbling, roaring water dashing against the cliffs and rocks in reckless fury. Stanley resolved to try them before risking his men, and embarking in the Lady Alice, with men on shore holding cables attached to bow and stern, he drifted slowly downward amid the rocks. The little boat seemed a mere toy amid the awful surroundings in which it floated, and Stanley realized as it rocked beneath him what a helpless thing it would be in the wild and turbulent midstream. Just as he reached the most dangerous point, one of the cables parted. The boat swung to, when the other snapped asunder and the frightened thing was borne like a bubble into the boiling surge and carried downward like an arrow. Down, down, between the frowning precipices, now barely escaping a huge rock and now lifted like a feather on the top of a wave it swept on, apparently to certain destruction. But death had lost all its terrors to these hard-hunted men, and the six in the boat sat resigned to their fate. The brave Uledi, however, kept his hand on the helm and his steady eye on the hell of waters around and before them. Sometimes caught in a whirlpool that tossed them around and around, and then springing like a panther down a steep incline, the boat continued to plunge on its mad course with death on every side, until at last it shot into the Niguru basin, when they rowed to the sandy beach of Kilanga. Here, amid the rocks, they found the broken boat in which Pocoke went down, and the body of one of the men who was drowned with him jammed among the fragments. Stanley looked back on this perilous ride with strange feelings. It seemed as if fate, while trying him to the utmost, was determined he should not perish, but that he should fulfill the great mission he had undertaken. His people seemed to think so too, for when they saw his boat break adrift and launch into the boiling rapids they gave him up for lost; but when they caught sight of him coming toward them alive and well, they gave way to extravagant joy and exclaimed, "it is the hand of God--we shall reach the sea." The escape was so wonderful, almost miraculous, that they could not but believe that God had spared him to save them all. They now pushed on with little trouble to Mpakambendi, the terminus of the chasm ninety-three miles long, in which they had been struggling a hundred and seventeen days. This simple statement conveys very little to the ear, yet what fearful shapes does it conjure up to the imagination! Ninety-three miles of rapids and cataracts, with only here and there a stretch of smooth water! A mile and a quarter a day was all the progress they had made now for nearly four months. No wonder the poor Arabs gave up in despair and refused any longer to follow the river. [Illustration: SHOOTING THE RAPIDS.] Although below the chasm the stream did not flow with that placidity it did through the cannibal region, still it did not present any dangerous rapids, as they glided on toward the sea with new hopes. The natives along the banks were friendly, though difficulties were constantly arising from the thieving propensities of the Arabs. Two were seized by the natives, and Stanley had nearly to bankrupt himself to redeem them, on which he gave the men a talk and told them plainly that this was positively the last time he would redeem a single prisoner seized for theft, nor would he resort to force to rescue him. It was now the 7th day of July, and although hope had revived in the hearts of the people, some of the sick felt that they should never see their native island again. Two died this day and were buried on the banks of the river whose course they had followed so long. They now had clear, though not smooth sailing for some nine or ten miles, when they came to another fall. This was passed in safety, with the assistance of the natives, who assembled in great numbers and volunteered their services, for which they were liberally rewarded. More or less broken water was experienced, but not bad enough to arrest the progress of the boats. Provisions were getting scarce, and consequently the thieving propensity of the Arabs to obtain them more actively exhibited itself, and one man, caught while digging up roots in a garden, was held as a prisoner. The men asked his release, but Stanley, finding that the price which the natives asked for his redemption was far greater than his means to pay, would not interfere and the man was left to live and die in perpetual slavery. But this did not stop thieving, and soon another man was caught in the act and made prisoner. This case was submitted to the chiefs, and their decision was to let him remain in slavery. But the men were starving, and even this terrible exhibition of the doom that awaited them was not sufficient to deter the men from stealing food. The demands of the stomach overrode all fears of punishment, and three or four days after another man was detected and made a prisoner. He, too, was left a slave in the hands of the natives. Dangerous rapids were now and then encountered, but they were passed without accident, and Stanley at last found that he was close to the sea. He announced the fact to his people, who were intensely excited at the news. One man, a boatman, went crazy over it, and, shouting "we have reached the sea, we are at home," rushed into the woods and was never seen again. The poor wretch, probably, lay down at last in the forest, with the groves of Zanzibar, in imagination, just ahead of him. Sweeping downward, frequent rapids occurred, but the expedition kept on until it reached the district of Kilolo. Stanley here lay down weary and hungry, but was aroused by musket-shots. His people, starving and desperate, had scattered about, entering every garden they saw to get something to eat, and the natives had attacked them. Soon wounded men were brought in, whom the natives had shot. Several had been captured whom Stanley refused to redeem, and they were left to pine in endless captivity, never again to see the hills of Zanzibar, as he over and over again had promised they should. Changing from bank to bank, as the character of the river changed, the expedition, on the 30th of July, heard in advance the roar of the cataract of Isingila. Here Stanley ascertained that they were but five days' journey from Embomma, a distance always traveled by land by the natives, on account of the obstructions in the river. As the whole object of the expedition had been accomplished and the short distance beyond these falls to the sea was known to Europeans, he resolved to leave the river and march by land to Embomma. At sunset the Lady Alice was drawn out of the water to the top of some rocks and abandoned forever. To Stanley it was like leaving a friend behind. The boat had been his companion for nearly three years. It had carried him over the waters of the lakes, dashed at his bidding among hostile canoes, rocked him to sleep amid the storms, borne him all safely over foaming cataracts, and now it must be left ignobly to rot in the wilds of Africa. As he turned to cast a last farewell glance on it resting mournfully on the rocks, the poor boat had almost a human look, as if it knew it was to be left behind and abandoned forever. On the 1st of August, the famished, weary column took up its line of march towards the sea--the mothers carrying infants that had been born amid the cataracts, and the larger children trudging slowly after. Nearly forty of the one hundred and fifteen were sick, and though it was painful to travel, they were cheered by the promise that in four or five days they should once more look on the sea, towards which their longing hearts had been turned for so many weary months. Coming to a village, the king stopped them and told them they could not pass without they gave him a bottle of rum. Uledi, hastening up, asked Stanley what the old man wanted. "Rum," he replied. Hitting him a severe slap in the face, "there is rum for him," growled Uledi, as the drunken negro tumbled over. The latter picked himself up and hurried away, and Stanley and his worn and wasted band passed on without further molestation. It was hard to get food, for one party would demand rum and refuse to furnish it without, while another wanted them to wait till the next market-day. On the third day they reached Nsanda, the king of which told Stanley it was but three days' march to the sea. The latter asked him if he would carry a letter to Embomma for him. He replied no, but after four hours of hard urging he agreed to furnish guides for three of Stanley's men. The next day they set out, carrying the following letter:-- VILLAGE NSANDA, August 4th, 1877. _To any gentleman who speaks English at Embomma_: DEAR SIR: I have arrived at this place from Zanzibar with one hundred and fifteen souls, men, women and children. We are now in a state of imminent starvation. We can buy nothing from the natives, for they laugh at our kinds of cloth, beads and wire. There are no provisions in the country that may be purchased except on market-days, and starving people cannot afford to wait for these markets. I therefore have made bold to dispatch three of my young men, natives of Zanzibar, with a boy named Robert Ferugi of the English mission at Zanzibar, with this letter, craving relief from you. I do not know you, but I am told there is an Englishman at Embomma, and as you are a Christian and a gentleman, I beg of you not to disregard my request. The boy Robert will be better able to describe our condition than I can tell you in a letter. We are in a state of the greatest distress, but, if your supplies arrive in time, I may be able to reach Embomma in four days. I want three hundred cloths, each four yards long, of such quality as you trade with, which is very different from that we have; but better than all would be ten or fifteen man-loads of rice or grain to fill their pinched bellies immediately, as even with the cloths it would require time to purchase food, and starving men cannot wait. The supplies must arrive within two days, or I may have a fearful time of it among the dying. Of course I hold myself responsible for any expense you may incur in this business. What is wanted is immediate relief, and I pray you to use your utmost energies to forward it at once. For myself if you have such little luxuries as tea, coffee, sugar and biscuits by you, such as one man can easily carry, I beg you, on my own behalf, that you will send a small supply, and add to the great debt of gratitude due to you upon the timely arrival of supplies for my people. Until that time, I beg you to believe me, Yours, sincerely, H. M. STANLEY, _Commanding Anglo-American Expedition, for Exploration of Africa_. P. S.--You may not know my name; I therefore add, I am the person that discovered Livingstone. H. M. S. After writing this letter, Stanley called his chiefs and boat's crew to his tent and told them of his purpose to send a letter to Embomma for relief, and wanted to know which were the most reliable men--would travel fastest and least likely to be arrested or turned back by obstacles. The ever-ready Uledi sprang to his feet and exclaimed, as he tightened his belt, "O master, I am ready now!" The other volunteers responded as quickly, and the next day, the guides appearing, they started off. In the meantime, the expedition resumed its slow march, having eaten nothing but a few nuts to stay their stomachs. Coming to a village, the chief demanded payment for passing through his country, and armed his followers; but on Stanley threatening to destroy every man in the place, his rage subsided, he shook hands, and peace was made and sealed by a drink of palm wine and the promise of a bottle of rum. In the meanwhile, Uledi and his companions pressed swiftly on, but when about halfway the guides, becoming frightened, deserted them. Unable to obtain others, they resolved to follow the Congo. All day long they pressed steadily forward, and, just after sunset, reached Boma, to which the name Embomma had been changed, and delivered the letter. The poor fellows had not tasted food for thirty hours, and were well-nigh famished. They soon had abundance, and the next morning (August 6th), while Stanley was leading on his bloated, haggard, half-starved, staggering men, women and children, Uledi started back with carriers loaded down with provisions. At nine o'clock, the expedition had to stop and rest. While they lay scattered about on the green sward, suddenly an Arab boy shouted, "I see Uledi coming down the hill!" and sure enough there were Uledi and Kacheche leaping down the slope and waving their arms in the air. "La il Allah, il Allah!" went up in one wild shout--"we are saved, thank God!" Uledi had brought a letter to Stanley, who had scarcely finished reading it when the carriers appeared in sight laden with provisions. The sick and lame struggled to their feet and, with the others, pressed around them. While Stanley was distributing them, one of the boat-boys struck up a triumphant song, that echoed far over the plain. They then set to and ate as only starving men can eat. When all were supplied, Stanley turned to his tent, to open the private packages sent to him. Heavens! what a vision met his astonished sight! A few hours before, he had made his breakfast on a few green bananas and peanuts, washed with a cup of muddy water, and now before him were piled champagne, port and sherry wines, and ale, and bread and butter, and tea, and sugar, and plum-pudding, and various kinds of jam--in short, enough luxuries to supply half a regiment. How Stanley felt that night as he looked on his happy, contented followers, may be gathered from the following extract from a letter he sent back next day to his kind-hearted deliverers. After acknowledging the reception of the bountiful supplies, he says: "Dear Sirs--Though strangers I feel we shall be great friends, and it will be the study of my lifetime to remember my feelings of gratefulness when I first caught sight of your supplies, and my poor faithful and brave people cried out, 'Master, we are saved--food is coming!' The old and the young men, the women and the children lifted their wearied and worn-out frames and began lustily to chant an extemporaneous song in honor of the white people by the great salt sea (the Atlantic), who had listened to their prayers. I had to rush to my tent to hide the tears that would come, despite all my attempts at composure. "Gentlemen, that the blessing of God may attend your footsteps, whithersoever you go, is the very earnest prayer of "Yours faithfully, "HENRY M. STANLEY." That day was given up to feasting and rejoicing, and the next morning--a very different set of men--they started forward. All this and the next day they marched cheerfully over the rolling country, and on the third, while slowly descending a hill, they saw a string of hammocks approaching, and soon Stanley stood face to face with four white men, and so long had he been shut up in a country of blacks that they impressed him strangely. After some time spent in conversation they insisted on his getting into a hammock, and borne by eight stout bearers he was carried into Boma, where rest and abundance awaited him. He stayed in this village of a hundred huts only one day and then embarked on a steamer for the mouth of the river, a hundred or more miles away. Turning northward he reached Kabinda, where one of the expedition died. The reaction on these poor creatures after their long and desperate struggle was great, and they fell back into a sort of stupor. Stanley himself felt its influence and would fall asleep while eating. The sense of responsibility, however, aroused him and he attempted in turn to arouse his men. But, notwithstanding all his efforts, four died of this malady without a name after he reached Loanda, and three more afterwards on board the vessel that carried them to Cape Town. Stanley gave his poor followers eight days' rest at Kabinda and then in a Portuguese vessel proceeded to Loanda. Here the governor-general offered to send him in a gun-boat to Lisbon. This generous offer was very tempting, and many would have accepted it, but Stanley would not leave his Arab friends who had shared his toils and hardships, and shown an unbounded trust in his promise to see them back to Zanzibar. A passage being offered them in the British ship _Industry_, to Cape Town, Stanley accepted it, and, instead of going home where comfort and fame awaited him, turned southward with his Arab followers. At Cape Town he was received with every mark of distinction, and delivered a lecture there giving a brief account of the expedition, especially that part of it relating to the Congo. A British vessel here was placed at his disposal, and while she was refitting Stanley gave his astonished Arabs a ride on a railroad, on which they were whirled along at the rate of thirty miles an hour. Of all the wonders they had seen since they left Zanzibar, nearly three years before, this was the greatest. Entertainments were prepared for them, suitable garments for that cold latitude provided, till these poor, simple children of nature were made dizzy by the attentions they received. Among other things a special evening was set apart for them in the theatre, and they were thrown into raptures at the performance of the acrobats and made the building ring with their wild Arab shouts of approval. At length, on the 6th of November, nearly two months from the time they reached the Atlantic coast, they set sail for Zanzibar. Stopping for two days at Natal to coal, where every possible attention was lavished on them, they again put to sea and stretched northward through the Indian Ocean. Day after day these now contented people lay around on deck, drinking in health from the salt sea air. All but one was shaking off every form of disease contracted in their long wanderings. This one was a woman who was slowly dying, and who was kept alive alone by the thought of seeing her home once more. At last the hills of Zanzibar arose over the sea, and as these untutored Arabs traced their well-known outline, their joy was unbounded, and Stanley felt repaid for the self-denial that had refused a passage home from Loanda to stay by his faithful followers to the very last. Their excitement increased as the caves and inlets grew more distinct, and at last the cocoanut and mangrove-trees became visible. As the vessel entered port their impatience could not be restrained, and the captain of the vessel, sympathizing with their feelings, had no sooner dropped anchor than he manned the boats, while the eager creatures crowded the gangway and ladder, each struggling to be the first to set foot on their native island. As boat-load after boat-load reached the shore, with a common feeling they knelt on the beach and cried "Allah!" and offered up their humble thanksgiving to God, who had brought them safely back to their homes. The news of their arrival spread like wild-fire on every side, and soon their relatives and friends came flocking in from all directions, and glad shouts, and wild embracings, and floods of glad tears made a scene that stirred Stanley's heart to its profoundest depths. Still, there was a dark side to the picture. Scores of those that came rushing forward to greet them, fell back shedding tears, not of gladness, but of sorrow, for they found not those whom they fondly hoped to meet. Of the three hundred that had set out, nearly thee years before, only one hundred and twelve were left--and one of these, the poor sick woman, lived only long enough to be clasped in her father's arms, when she died. The great journey was ended, and Stanley, after paying off the living and the relatives of the dead, at last started for home. As he was about to enter the boat that was to bear him to the ship, the brave Uledi and the chiefs shoved it from shore, and seizing Stanley, bore him through the surf on their shoulders. And when the latter stood on the deck, as the vessel slowly steamed away, the last object he saw on shore through his eyes filled with tears, was his Arab friends watching him till he should disappear from sight. An enthusiastic reception awaited him in England, while from every part of the continent distinguished honors were bestowed upon him. He had performed one of the most daring marches on record--traced out, foot by foot, one of the largest lakes of Central Africa, followed its mightiest river, which, from the creation, had been wrapped in mystery, from its source to its mouth, and made a new map of the "_dark continent_." Among the testimonials of the estimation in which the great work he had accomplished was held, may be mentioned the gift of the portrait of King Humbert of Italy, by himself, with the superscription: "ALL' INTREPEDO VIAGGATORE, ENRICO STANLEY. UMBERTO _RE_. TO THE INTREPID TRAVELER, HENRY STANLEY. KING HUMBERT." The Prince of Wales also complimented him warmly on his achievements, while the Khedive of Egypt conferred on him the high distinction of the Grand Commandership of the Order of Medjidie, with the star and collar. The Royal Geographical Society, of London, gave him a public reception, and made him Honorary Corresponding Member, and the Geographical Societies and Chambers of Commerce of Paris, Italy and Marseilles sent him medals. He was also made Honorary Member of the Geographical Societies of Antwerp, Berlin, Bordeaux, Bremen, Hamburg, Lyons, Marseilles, Montpelier, Vienna, etc., etc. Honorary membership of almost every distinguished society in England and on the continent were conferred on him, and all seemed to vie with each other in heaping honors on the most intrepid traveler of modern times. As Americans, however, it gives us great pleasure to record the following sentiment, showing that Stanley takes especial pride in being an American. He says: "For another honor I have to express my thanks--one which I may be pardoned for regarding as more precious than all the rest. The Government of the United States has crowned my success with its official approval, and the unanimous vote of thanks passed in both houses of legislature, has made me proud for life of the expedition and its success." CHAPTER XXVIII. THE FRUITS OF VICTORY. After victory, the fruits of victory; and to secure the latter is often more difficult than to win the former. The soldier may conquer a realm; it requires the statesman to organize and establish sovereignty. We may be entranced with enthusiasm at the daring of the explorer; we must bow with respect to the man who transformed a wilderness into a peaceful field of industry and commerce. Doubtless, at the end of his great Congo campaign, in 1878, Mr. Stanley longed for rest and home. Up to that time all his life had been a wandering, chiefly amid dangers and discomforts. He had written his name among those of the world's foremost explorers. Well might he have considered his task accomplished, and have turned his way toward scenes of rest and pleasure. Instead of that, all these great deeds were but the prelude to his real life-work. Early in November, 1878, Mr. Stanley was invited by Leopold, King of the Belgians, to visit the royal palace at Brussels, on a certain day and at a certain hour. He went. He found assembled to meet him a large number of persons of note from all parts of the world, mostly men interested in commerce and finance. The object of the meeting was to promote the enterprise of studying what might best be done with the Congo River and its vast basin. Mr. Stanley was to tell them of the country, and they were to consider how to open it up to trade and civilization. "I have," said the explorer, "passed through a land watered by the largest river of the African continent, and that land knows no owner. A word to the wise is sufficient. You have cloths and hardware, and glassware and gunpowder, and those millions of natives have ivory and gums and rubber and dyestuffs, and in barter there is good profit!" This was a tempting prospect, and a course of action was soon fixed upon. A company was formed, one hundred thousand dollars capital was subscribed on the spot, and Mr. Stanley was commissioned to organize, equip and lead an expedition. He was to open up a road through the Congo country to the heart of Africa. He was to erect stations, according to the means furnished, along the overland route for the convenience of the transport and the European staff in charge, and to establish steam communication wherever available and safe. The stations were to be commodious, and sufficient for all demands that were likely to be made on them. Ground was to be leased or purchased adjoining the stations, so as to make them in time self-supporting. Land along each side of the route was also to be secured, to prevent persons ill-disposed toward the company from interfering with its plans. The whole scheme was founded on the ideas of peace and equity. The expedition was to make its way by paying, not by fighting. Mr. Stanley went to work promptly and energetically. This meeting was held on November 25th. The directors of the enterprise met again on December 9th. On January 2d, 1879, Mr. Stanley laid before them plans and estimates for the first six months' work, and on January 23d he was on his way to Zanzibar. It was, of course, desirable to have experienced men associated with him, so he sought out as many of his old comrades as possible. In that work some time was spent, but in the latter part of May he left Zanzibar in the steamer "Albion," which had been chartered for the use of the expedition. He had with him sixty-eight men, recruited at Zanzibar, of whom forty-five had accompanied him on his former journey down the Congo. At nine o'clock in the morning of August 14th he sighted land at the mouth of the Congo, and soon after was at anchor near the Dutch settlement at Banana Point. Here he met, for the first time, the other officers chosen to go with him on the expedition. There were one American, two Englishmen, two Danes, five Belgians, and one Frenchman. In the harbor was a small fleet of steamers intended for the expedition, and on shore was a considerable store of goods for bartering with the natives. On August 21st, seven days after Mr. Stanley's arrival at Banana, the vessels of the expedition, consisting of the "Albion" and eight other craft of various sizes (the largest being the steel twin screw steamer "La Belgique," sixty-five feet long and eleven feet beam; and the smallest the "Jeune Africaine," a screw launch, twenty-five feet long and five feet ten inches beam) steamed out of Banana Haven, and began the ascent of the noble river. Boma, once the horrible emporium of the slave-trade, was reached after a sail of eight days; a depot was formed at Mussuko, four hours higher up the stream on the south bank; and the "Albion," after making one or two trips between Mussuko and Banana Point, in order to bring up the goods which had been left behind, was released from river duty, taken down to Banana Point, coaled, and sent home, on September 17th. So far, all had gone well. In thirty-four days it had reached its first base of operations, ninety miles from the sea. All its supplies had been brought hither in safety, and the outlook for the future was promising. Soon after the departure of the "Albion" steps were taken to advance still further up-stream, and the next station was made at Vivi. This was six hours' sail in a nine-knot steamer above Boma. The site was carefully chosen, and Vivi has since become the most important station on the river. But before Mr. Stanley could commence operations in September, 1879, a palaver had to be held, and terms required to be arranged with the neighboring chiefs, of whom there were five. At the palaver the five chiefs formed a somewhat motley group. The introductions being over, the object of the expedition was explained through the medium of a _lingster_ or interpreter; proposals were made on the part of the association; and the chiefs, after begging a bottle of gin apiece, returned to their houses to consider what the _Mundelé_, or trader, as Mr. Stanley was now called, had said to them. On the following day they returned, and as the conference which followed was, in its general features, similar to many others that were held, we may as well use Mr. Stanley's description of it:-- "The conference began by the lingster, Massala, describing how the chiefs had gone home and consulted together for a long time; they had agreed that if the Mundelé would stay with them, that of all the land unoccupied by villages, or fields and gardens, I should make my choice, and build as many houses, and make as many roads, and do any kind of work I liked; that I should be considered as the 'Mundelé' of Vivi, and no other white man should put foot on Vivi soil, which stretched from the Lufû up to the Banza Kulu district, and inland down to the Loa river, without permission from me; no native chief of inland or riverside should molest any man in my employ within the district of Vivi; help should be given for work, and the people of Vivi, such as liked, should engage themselves as workmen; anybody, white or black, native or foreign, passing to and fro through the land, should do so freely, night and day, without let or hindrance; if any disagreement should arise between any of my people, white or black, and the people of Vivi, they, the chiefs, would promise not to try and revenge themselves, but bring their complaint before the Mundelé of Vivi, that he might decide upon the right and the wrong of it; and if any of their people were caught in the act of doing wrong, then the white man shall promise that his chief shall be called to hear the case against him, and if the crime is proved the chief shall pay the fine according to custom. "'All this,' continued Massala, 'shall be set down in writing, and you shall read it, and the English lingster shall tell it straight to us. But first we must settle what the chiefs shall receive in return for these concessions.'" This was not so easily settled. Four hours were spent before the bargain was concluded, and Mr. Stanley found himself obliged to pay one hundred and sixty dollars down in cloth and a rental of ten dollars per month. The papers confirming the agreement were then drawn up in due form, and signed by the various parties concerned in the matter. Mr. Stanley, as "Mundelé of Vivi," had no good reason to congratulate himself upon his bargain. He had, of course, secured a site for his station, but he had been compelled to pay a big price for it, and his land was a mere wilderness of rocky and barren hillsides. All the really good land at Vivi was already occupied, and the natives would not part with it. On the evening of the day on which his contract was signed he wrote in his diary: "I am not altogether pleased with my purchase. It has been most expensive, in the first place, and the rent is high. However, necessity has compelled me to do it. It is the highest point of navigation of the Congo, opposite which a landing could be effected. The landing-place is scarcely three hundred yards long, but if the shores were improved by leveling, available room for ships could be found for fifteen hundred yards." On the plateau near the river was room for a town of twenty thousand people, and the situation seemed salubrious. So a road was made up to the plateau, buildings erected, and a large quantity of goods brought up from Mussuko, and safely housed. So far the expedition had had plain sailing. The Congo affords a magnificent waterway from the ocean, at Banana, up to Vivi. But a little distance above Vivi are the Livingstone Falls, rendering further navigation impossible. It was therefore necessary to build a road and make further progress overland. So work was begun on a new road, from Vivi to Isangila, fifty-two miles above, which had been chosen as the site of the next station. The country was wild and rugged, and ruled by thirty or forty different chiefs. Each of these chiefs had to be negotiated with and won over, and each in his own way. Moreover, the individual owners of farms and gardens had to be dealt with, and often paid exorbitant prices for their land. Surveying the route was a long and toilsome job. The work of clearing and grading would have been stupendous had it been designed merely to make it a wagon-road. But it was to be more than that. It was to be a road over which several of the steamboats could be transported, to be relaunched on the river above the falls. Mr. Stanley never faltered, however, and at noon of March 18th, 1880, the work of making the road was begun. On January 2d, 1881, within ten months from the actual beginning of the work, the road, fifty-two miles in length, was completed, the boats were on the shore at Isangila waiting to be repaired, scraped, and painted, and the "Royal," a small screw steamer presented to the expedition by the King of the Belgians, was steaming on the river. From Isangila there was smooth navigation up-stream for eighty-eight miles, to the Falls of Ntombo Mataka. Adjoining the latter is the district of Manyanga, where Mr. Stanley decided to erect the next station, and on May 1st, 1881, the whole expedition was safely encamped there. Of his achievements thus far Mr. Stanley speaks thus: "We were now one hundred and forty miles above Vivi, to accomplish which distance we have been employed four hundred and thirty-six days in road-making and in conveying fifty tons of goods, with a force of sixty-eight Zanzibaris and an equal number of West Coast and inland natives. During this period we had travelled four thousand eight hundred and sixteen English miles, which, divided by the number of days occupied in this heavy transport work, gives a quotient of over eleven miles per day!" This expedition was intended to reach, as its farthest point, Stanley Pool, which was still ninety-five miles away, and every mile was full of difficulties. The river was not navigable, so an overland road had to be surveyed, "palavered" for, purchased and built, and the boats dragged over it. Worse still, Mr. Stanley was stricken down with fever, and for a long time lay on the brink of the grave. But even from his sick-bed he continued to direct affairs and to inspire his followers with his own unshaken faith in the success of the enterprise. So, by December 3d, 1881, the expedition was safe at Stanley Pool with the steamer "En Avant" launched in the Bay of Kintamo, beyond which were thousands of miles of navigable water. The new station was founded on Leopold Hill, a fine site overlooking the river, and was named Leopoldville, in honor of the royal patron of the enterprise. Doubtless this place will become the chief centre of Central African commerce. Its situation is magnificent. The climate is salubrious. The surrounding natives are friendly. Other stations have since been founded, further up the river, all tributary to Leopoldville. The most distant of them is on the island of Wané Rusari, at the foot of Stanley Falls, one thousand and sixty-eight miles from Leopoldville. CHAPTER XXIX. THE CONGO FREE STATE. Mr. Stanley's discoveries, and the enterprise of the "Committee for the Study of the Upper Congo"--which was the real name of the company under which he was sent out--soon attracted universal attention, and that, too, of a most practical kind. It became evident that the Congo Valley must have a fixed and potent government. King Leopold did not desire to assume the sole responsibility, nor, indeed, would the other European powers have agreed to his transform so large a slice of the African continent into a Belgian colony. Accordingly, an international conference was summoned to meet at Berlin, and the result of its deliberations was the erection of the entire valley into a potentially independent commonwealth, called the Congo Free State. On February 25th, 1885, treaty was signed by the representatives of the United States and the chief European powers. A Constitution and Government were provided for the new state, with King Leopold at its head, under the protection of the treaty-signing powers. Thenceforward civilization made rapid progress. The state was admitted to the International Postal Union, and post-offices were opened at Banana, Boma, Vivi, and elsewhere. Courts, schools, etc., were also established. A railroad has been constructed over the route of Mr. Stanley's roads around the cataracts, connecting with the steamer routes, and making an unbroken line of steam transportation from Stanley Falls to the Atlantic Ocean. The entire area of the Congo basin is estimated by Mr. Stanley at one million five hundred and eight thousand square miles. Some of it is claimed by France, some by Portugal, and some is yet unapportioned. But the overwhelming bulk, one million sixty-five thousand and two hundred square miles, belongs to the Congo Free State. It has not all yet been surveyed, of course, but its character is pretty well known. It has vast forests, extensive and fertile plains, and unsurpassed systems of lakes and rivers. Its lakes cover thirty-one thousand seven hundred square miles; among them being Lakes Leopold II., Muta Nzige, Tanganyika, Bangweola, and Mweru. The Congo, of course, is the principal river. It is one of the five or six longest streams in the world, and in point of volume surpasses all but the Amazon. Unlike the Amazon, Mississippi, Nile, Ganges, Volga, and, indeed, almost all other great rivers, the Congo has no delta. It discharges itself by a single unbroken estuary seven miles and a half broad, in many places over two hundred fathoms deep, and with a current of from five to seven knots an hour. The volume of water brought down has been variously estimated; the lowest estimate being two million cubic feet per second. The Mississippi, when at the height of its March flood, has an outflow of one million one hundred and fifty thousand cubic feet per second; so that its volume must be very greatly exceeded by that of the Congo. The scenery along the banks of the Congo is affirmed by all who have seen it to be magnificent. Mr. Stanley has seen none to equal it. In his opinion neither the Indus nor the Ganges, the Nile nor the Niger, nor any of the rivers of North or South America has any glories of mountain or foliage or sunlight which are not greatly excelled by those of his favorite river, and many of the finest passages in his volumes are devoted to descriptions of the beauty and magnificence seen along its banks. The population of the Free State of the Congo Mr. Stanley estimates at about forty-five millions. According to the latest trustworthy calculations, the population of the whole of Africa is represented by two hundred millions. Some place it at one hundred and seventy millions. The data on which these calculations are based are, of course, imperfect, and Mr. Stanley's seem to have been based chiefly upon the density of population he found on the banks of the upper Congo. But in other parts, and especially away from the rivers, there must be large tracts of country where the population is much less dense than it is along the banks of the Congo, and any generalization for the whole of the country, based upon the latter, must manifestly give too high a figure. Of the climate of the country, Mr. Stanley is entitled to speak with authority, and justly, as no European has had so large an experience of it. With care as to food, clothing, and exposure, Europeans, it would seem, may live as long, and enjoy as good health on the banks of the Congo as they may in most other places. But care is absolutely requisite; without it the climate proves as hurtful as the climate of the west coast of Africa is generally said to be. As a field for commerce, Mr. Stanley speaks of the country in the most glowing terms, and believes that it excels all other known lands for the number and rare variety of precious gifts with which nature has endowed it. He says: "The forests on the banks of the Congo are filled with precious redwood, lignum vitæ, mahogany, and fragrant gum-trees. At their base may be found inexhaustible quantities of fossil gum, with which the carriages and furniture of civilized countries are varnished; their boles exude myrrh and frankincense; their foliage is draped with orchilla-weed, useful for dye. The redwood, when cut down, chipped and rasped, produces a deep crimson powder, giving a valuable coloring; the creepers, which hang in festoons from tree to tree, are generally those from which india-rubber is produced (the best of which is worth fifty cents per lb.); the nuts of the oil palm give forth a butter, a staple article of commerce; while the fibres of others will make the best cordage. Among the wild shrubs is frequently found the coffee-plant. In its plains, jungle, and swamp luxuriate the elephants, whose tusk furnishes ivory worth from $2.00 to $2.75 per lb.; its waters teem with numberless herds of hippopotami, whose tusks are also valuable; furs of the lion, leopard, monkey, otter; hides of antelope, buffalo, goat, cattle, etc., may also be obtained. But, what is of far more value, it possesses over forty millions of moderately industrious and workable people. The copper of Lake Superior is rivaled by that of the Kwilu-Niadi Valley, and of Bembé. Rice, cotton, tobacco, maize, coffee, sugar, and wheat would thrive equally well in the broad plains of the Congo. I have heard of gold and silver, but this statement requires corroboration, and I am not disposed to touch upon what I do not personally know. A large portion of the Congo basin, at present inaccessible to the immigrant, is blessed with a temperature under which Europeans may thrive and multiply. There is no portion of it where the European trader may not fix his residence for years, and develop commerce to his own profit with as little risk as is incurred in India." Such is the country which the skill, tact, courage, and, in brief, the genius of Mr. Stanley have rescued from the degradation and barbarism of ages, and given a place among the great nations of the world. It is his fame to have been not merely an intrepid explorer, not merely a peaceful and almost bloodless conqueror, but in fully equal measure a civilizer, a trade-bearer, a statesman; the finder, the founder, and the builder of a great and mighty state. CHAPTER XXX. EMIN, THE LAST OF THE SOUDAN HEROES. Mr. Stanley returned to civilization, and in 1886 revisited America for the first time in thirteen years. He was received with the highest honors, and the lectures which he delivered were attended by crowded and delighted audiences. It seemed at last as though he were to enjoy a considerable period of rest. He had opened up the Dark Continent, and founded the Congo Free State on a secure basis. He might now direct its operations from London or Brussels, and spend his years in well-won ease. But this was not to be. He was abruptly summoned to undertake one of the most arduous of all his tasks, which was to lead an expedition to the relief of Emin Pasha at Wadelai, on the Nile. The history of Emin Pasha is a most romantic and noble one. His real name is Edward Schnitzer, and he was born in 1840 at Oppeln, in Silesia. His father, a merchant, died in 1845, and three years before that date the family removed to Neisse. When Edward Schnitzer had passed through the gymnasium at Neisse he devoted himself to the study of medicine at the University of Breslau. During the years 1863 and 1864 he pursued his studies at the Berlin Academy. The desire for adventure and an exceptional taste for natural sciences induced the young medical student to seek a field for his calling abroad. He, therefore, at the end of 1864, left Berlin with the intention of obtaining a post of physician in Turkey. Chance carried him to Antivari and then to Scutari. Here he soon managed to attract the attention of Valis Ismael Pasha Haggi, and was received into the following of that dignitary, who, in his official position, had to travel through the various provinces of the empire. When, in this way, Dr. Schnitzer had learned to know Armenians, Syrians, and Arabians, he finally reached Constantinople, where the Pasha died in 1873. In the summer of 1875 Dr. Schnitzer returned to Neisse; but after a few months the old passion for travel again came over him, and he betook himself to Egypt, where favorable prospects were opened out to him. With the beginning of the year 1876 he appears as "Dr. Emin Effendi," enters the Egyptian service, and places himself at the disposal of the Governor-General of the Soudan. In the post there given him Dr. Emin met with Gordon, who two years before (1874) had been intrusted with the administration of the newly-created Equatorial province. Gordon sent him on tours of inspection through the territory and on repeated missions to King M'tesa at Uganda. When Gordon Pasha, two years later, became administrator of all territory lying outside the narrower limits of Egypt, Dr. Emin Effendi received the post of commander at Lado, together with the government of the Equatorial province. With how much fidelity and self-denial he devoted himself to his task is well known. During the first three years of his term he drove out the slave-traders from a populous region with six million inhabitants. He converted a deficiency of revenues into a surplus. He conducted the government on the lines marked out by General Gordon, and was equally modest, disinterested, and conscientious. When the Mahdi's rebellion broke out, a governor-general of another stamp was at Khartoum. Emin's warning from the remote South passed unheeded. Hicks' army, recruited from Arabi's demoralized regiments, was massacred; the Egyptian garrisons throughout the Soudan were abandoned to their fate; atrocious campaigns of unnecessary bloodshed were fought on the seaboard, and General Gordon was sent to Khartoum to perish miserably while waiting for a relief expedition that crawled by slow stages up the Nile, and was too late to be of practical service. During all these years of stupid misgovernment and wasted blood Emin remained at his post. When the death of General Gordon and the retreat of Lord Wolseley's army wiped out the last vestige of Egyptian rule in the regions of the Upper Nile, the Equatorial Provinces were cut off, neglected, and forgotten. It then became impossible for Emin to communicate with the Egyptian Government, and he was practically lost to the world. He was dependent upon his own resources in a region encompassed by hostile tribes. He might easily have cut his way out to safety, by the way of the Congo or Zanzibar, with the best of his troops, leaving the women and children behind to their fate. But this he scorned to do. He stood at his post, and bravely upheld the standard of civilization in Africa. He had with him about four thousand troops at the outset. He organized auxiliary forces of native soldiers; he was constantly engaged in warfare with surrounding tribes; he garrisoned a dozen river stations lying long distances apart; his ammunition ran low, and he lacked the money needed for paying his small army. But, in the face of manifold difficulties and dangers, he maintained his position, governed the country well, and taught the natives how to raise cotton, rice, indigo, and coffee, and also how to weave cloth, and make shoes, candles, soap, and many articles of commerce. He vaccinated the natives by the thousand, in order to stamp out small-pox; he opened the first hospital known in that quarter; he established a regular post-route with forty offices; he made important geographical discoveries in the basin of the Albert Lake; and in many ways demonstrated his capacity for governing barbarous races. The last European who visited him was Dr. Junker, the German traveller, who parted from him at Wadelai on January 1st, 1886. His position was then more favorable, but he had been reduced at one time to extremities, his soldiers having escaped by a desperate sortie, cutting their way through the enemy after they had been many days without food, and "when the last torn leather of the last boot had been eaten." Letters written by him in October, 1886, at Wadelai, describing his geographical discoveries, were received in England in 1887, with a contributed article for a Scotch scientific journal. The provisions and ammunition sent to him by Dr. Junker had had a very encouraging effect upon his troops. He wrote: "I am still holding out here, and will not forsake my people." The betrayal of Gordon at Khartoum by the British Government had so disgusted and exasperated decent public opinion in England that a popular demand was made for the rescue of Emin. The Government took no step other than to allow a small grant of money to be made from the Egyptian treasury. But private subscriptions furnished an ample sum, and an "Emin Relief Committee" was formed to press the work. CHAPTER XXXI. STANLEY TO THE RESCUE. Mr. Stanley arrived in New York, after his thirteen years' absence, on November 27th, 1886. On December 12th of the same year he was requested by the King of the Belgians to return immediately to Europe. He did so, and was commissioned to head the expedition then being formed for the relief of Emin Pasha. There was much discussion as to the route to be taken, most authorities favoring that overland from Zanzibar. But Mr. Stanley determined upon the Congo, and he described the character of the expedition as follows: "The expedition is non-military--that is to say, its purpose is not to fight, destroy, or waste; its purpose is to save, to relieve distress, to carry comfort. Emin Pasha may be a good man, a brave officer, a gallant fellow deserving of a strong effort of relief, but I decline to believe, and I have not been able to gather from any one in England an impression, that his life, or the lives of the few hundreds under him, would overbalance the lives of thousands of natives, and the devastation of immense tracts of country which an expedition strictly military would naturally cause. The expedition is a mere powerful caravan, armed with rifles for the purpose of insuring the safe conduct of the ammunition to Emin Pasha, and for the more certain protection of his people during the retreat home. But it also has means of purchasing the friendship of tribes and chiefs, of buying food and paying its way liberally." Mr. Stanley went from England to Egypt, where he stopped for a time at Cairo, completing his arrangements with the Egyptian government. On reaching Zanzibar he found that his agents had already recruited a force of six hundred men for the expedition, and that Tippu-Tib, who had escorted his caravan in 1877, when the first descent of the Congo was made, was waiting for him. Tippu-Tib was the Zobehr of the Upper Congo, commanding two of the best roads from the river to Wadelai. He agreed to supply six hundred carriers at thirty dollars a man; and as Emin was reported by Dr. Junker to have seventy-five tons of ivory, the expenses of the expedition might be largely defrayed by the return of the Zanzibaris to the Congo with their precious loads. Tippu-Tib was also offered the position of governor at Stanley Falls at a regular salary. He consented to accompany Mr. Stanley on these terms. The steamer set out on February 25th for the mouth of the Congo with about seven hundred men of the expedition, reaching its destination in four weeks. He was then twelve hundred and sixty-six miles from Aruwimi, whence he was to march four hundred miles through an unknown country to Emin's capital. It was as late as April 26th before he could leave Leopoldville, on Stanley Pool, and it was not until the second week in June that the explorer himself was at Aruwimi, much delay having been caused by defective transportation. He left men at Stanley Falls, with instructions to rebuild the storehouses, to open negotiations with the tribes, and to provide convoys of provisions for the relief expedition. A rear-guard was left at Yambouya, and the advance column passed on to the limits of navigation, whence the overland march was taken up. Few difficulties were encountered apart from the natural obstacles presented by a country very difficult to traverse. About July 25th the expedition had ascended the River Aruwimi as far as an elevated tract of country forming a portion of the Mabodi district. Thus, Mr. Stanley and his comrades plunged into the wilderness, and were lost to the sight of the world. From time to time thereafter countless rumors came from Africa regarding them, rumors varied in tone as in number. At one time they had reached Emin in safety. Again they were all massacred long before they got to Wadelai. Now, Mr. Stanley had put himself at the head of Emin's army and was marching on Khartoum to avenge Gordon and overthrow the Mahdi; and then he and Emin were captured by the Mahdist forces at Lado. Stories came of a mysterious "White Pasha" who was leading a conquering army through the Bahr Gazelle country, and it was very generally believed that it was Mr. Stanley, who had reached Wadelai and was returning to the coast by the way of the Niger. But on December 15th, 1888, startling news came from Suakim, on the Red Sea coast of Egypt. Osman Digna, the Frenchman who had turned Arab and was leader of the Mahdist army there, under a flag of truce informed the British commander that Emin's province had fallen into Arab hands, and that Emin and Stanley were prisoners. In proof of this he sent a copy of a letter just received from a Mahdist officer in the Soudan, as follows: "In the name of the Great God, etc. This is from the least among God's servants to his Master and chief Khalifa, etc. We proceeded with the steamers and army. Reached the town Lado, where Emin, Mudir of Equator, is staying. We reached this place 5th Safar, 1306. We must thank officers and men who made this conquest easy to us before our arrival. They caught Emin and a traveller staying with him, and put both in chains. The officers and men refused to go to Egypt with the Turks. Tewfik sent Emin one of the travellers, whose name is Mr. Stanley. This Mr. Stanley brought with him a letter from Tewfik to Emin, dated 8th Jemal Aowal, 1304, No. 81, telling Emin to come with Mr. Stanley, and gave the rest of the force the option to go to Cairo or remain. The force refused the Turkish orders, and gladly received us. I found a great deal of feathers and ivory. I am sending with this, on board the 'Bordain,' the officers and chief clerk. I am also sending the letter which came to Emin from Tewfik, with the banners we took from the Turks. I heard that there is another traveller who came to Emin, but I heard that he returned. I am looking out for him. If he comes back again, I am sure to catch him. All the chiefs of the province with the inhabitants were delighted to receive us. I have taken all the arms and ammunition. Please return the officers and chief clerk when you have seen them and given the necessary instructions, because they will be of great use to me." This was accompanied by what appeared to be a letter written by the Khedive at Cairo to Emin, which had been intrusted to Mr. Stanley to deliver, and this convinced many of the truth of Osman Digna's story. But, as a matter of fact, as will be seen later, it was all an ingenious lie, concocted for the purpose of frightening the British into abandoning Suakim to the slave-traders. Meantime there was true news of actual disasters on the Congo. Major Barttelot, commanding the rear guard of the expedition, was murdered; and Mr. Jamieson, who succeeded to the command, died of fever. Under these circumstances, the gloomiest and most anxious views prevailed regarding Mr. Stanley's fate. It was in December, 1888, that the dark views concerning Stanley's fate most prevailed, but ten days later positive and authentic news of Mr. Stanley's safe arrival at Emin Pasha's capital was received, and on April 3d, 1889, full details of the campaign, written by Mr. Stanley himself, were published. His letter to the chairman of the Emin Pasha Relief Committee was dated at Bungangeta Island, Ituri or Aruwimi River, August 28th, 1888, and gave full accounts of the varying fortunes of the expedition, with its disasters and successes. CHAPTER XXXII. STANLEY AND EMIN. In his letter to the Emin Pasha Relief Committee Mr. Stanley closes by saying: "Let me touch more at large on the subject which brought me to this land--viz., Emin Pasha. "The Pasha has two battalions of regulars under him--the first, consisting of about seven hundred and fifty rifles, occupies Duffle, Honyu, Labore, Muggi, Kirri, Bedden, Rejaf; the second battalion, consisting of six hundred and forty men, guard the stations of Wadelai, Fatiko, Mahagi and Mswa, a line of communication along the Nyanza and Nile about one hundred and eighty miles in length. In the interior west of the Nile he retains three or four small stations--fourteen in all. Besides these two battalions he has quite a respectable force of irregulars, sailors, artisans, clerks, servants. 'Altogether,' he said, 'if I consent to go away from here we shall have about eight thousand people with us.' "'Were I in your place I would not hesitate one moment or be a second in doubt what to do.' "'What you say is quite true, but we have such a large number of women and children, probably ten thousand people altogether. How can they all be brought out of here? We shall want a great number of carriers." "'Carriers! carriers for what?' I asked. "'For the women and children. You surely would not leave them, and they cannot travel?' "'The women must walk. It will do them more good than harm. As for the little children, load them on the donkeys. I hear you have about two hundred of them. Your people will not travel very far the first month, but little by little they will get accustomed to it. Our Zanzibar women crossed Africa on my second expedition. Why cannot your black women do the same? Have no fear of them; they will do better than the men.' "'They would require a vast amount of provision for the road.' "'True, but you have some thousands of cattle, I believe. Those will furnish beef. The countries through which we pass must furnish grain and vegetable food.' "Well, well, we will defer further talk till to-morrow." "May 1st, 1888.--Halt in camp at Nsabé. The Pasha came ashore from the steamer 'Khedive' about one P. M., and in a short time we commenced our conversation again. Many of the arguments used above were repeated, and he said: "'What you told me yesterday has led me to think that it is best we should retire from here. The Egyptians are very willing to leave. There are of these about one hundred men, besides their women and children. Of these there is no doubt, and even if I stayed here I should be glad to be rid of them, because they undermine my authority and nullify all my endeavors for retreat. When I informed them that Khartoum had fallen and Gordon Pasha was slain, they always told the Nubians that it was a concocted story, that some day we should see the steamers ascend the river for their relief. But of the regulars who compose the first and second battalions I am extremely doubtful; they have led such a free and happy life here that they would demur at leaving a country where they have enjoyed luxuries they cannot command in Egypt. The soldiers are married, and several of them have harems. Many of the irregulars would also retire and follow me. Now, supposing the regulars refuse to leave, you can imagine that my position would be a difficult one. Would I be right in leaving them to their fate? Would it not be consigning them all to ruin? I should have to leave them their arms and ammunition, and on returning all discipline would be at an end. Disputes would arise, and factions would be formed. The more ambitious would aspire to be chiefs by force, and from these rivalries would spring hate and mutual slaughter until there would be none of them left.' "'Supposing you resolve to stay, what of the Egyptians?' I asked. "'Oh! these I shall have to ask you to be good enough to take with you.' "'Now, will you, Pasha, do me the favor to ask Captain Casati if we are to have the pleasure of his company to the sea, for we have been instructed to assist him also should we meet?' "Captain Casati answered through Emin Pasha: "'What the Governor Emin decides upon shall be the rule of conduct for me also. If the Governor stays, I stay. If the Governor goes, I go.' "'Well, I see, Pasha, that in the event of your staying your responsibilities will be great.' "A laugh. The sentence was translated to Casati, and the gallant Captain replied: "'Oh! I beg pardon, but I absolve the Pasha from all responsibility connected with me, because I am governed by my own choice entirely.' "Thus day after day I recorded faithfully the interviews I had with Emin Pasha; but these extracts reveal as much as is necessary for you to understand the position. I left Mr. Jephson thirteen of my Soudanese, and sent a message to be read to the troops, as the Pasha requested. Everything else is left until I return with the united expedition to the Nyanza. [Illustration: From Harper's Weekly. Copyright, 1887, by Harper & Brothers. EMIN PASHA.] "Within two months the Pasha proposed to visit Fort Bodo, taking Mr. Jephson with him. At Fort Bodo I have left instructions to the officers to destroy the fort and accompany the Pasha to the Nyanza. I hope to meet them all again on the Nyanza, as I intend making a short cut to the Nyanza along a new road." CHAPTER XXXIII. IN THE HEART OF AFRICA. It was in April, 1889, that the thrilling narrative of Mr. Stanley's march from the Congo to the Lakes was made known. Then he disappeared again from view, but not for long. Early in November following he was heard from again, authoritatively, and in the same month the story of his work in the Equatorial Province was rehearsed to the listening world. It was on November 24th that Mr. Marston, of London, the well-known publisher, received this letter from the explorer, dated at a mission station at the southern end of Victoria Nyanza, September 3d, 1889: "It just now," wrote Mr. Stanley, "appears such an age to me since I left England. Ages have gone by since I saw you, surely. Do you know why? Because a daily thickening barrier of silence has crept between us during that time, and this silence is so dense that in vain we yearn to pierce it. On my side I may ask, what have you been doing? On yours you may ask, and what have you been doing? I can assure myself, now that I know you live, that few days have passed without the special task of an enterprising publisher being performed as wisely and as well as possible. "And, for the time being, you can believe me that one day has followed another in striving strifefully against all manner of obstacles, natural and otherwise. From the day I left Yambuya to August 28th, 1889, the day I arrived here, the bare catalogue of incidents would fill several quires of foolscap; the catalogue of skirmishes would be of respectable length; the catalogue of adventures, accidents, mortalities, sufferings from fever, morbid musings over mischances that meet us daily, would make a formidable list. "You know that all the stretch of country between Yambuya and this place was an absolutely new country except what may be measured by five ordinary marches. "First there is that dead white of the map now changed to a dead black--I mean that darkest region of earth confined between east longitude 25 deg. and east longitude 29 deg. 45 min.--one great, compact, remorselessly sullen forest, the growth of an untold number of ages, swarming at stated intervals with immense numbers of vicious, man-eating savages and crafty, undersized men, who were unceasing in their annoyance. "Then there is that belt of grass land lying between it and Albert Nyanza, whose people contested every mile of our advance with spirit, and made us think that they were the guardians of some priceless treasure hidden on the Nyanza shores, or at war with Emin Pasha and his thousands. Sir Percival, in search of the Holy Grail, could not have met with a hotter opposition. "Three separate times necessity compelled us to traverse these unholy regions, with varying fortunes. Incidents then crowded fast. Emin Pasha was a prisoner, an officer of ours was his forced companion, and it really appeared as though we were to be added to the list. But there is a virtue, you know, even in striving unyieldingly, in hardening nerves and facing these everclinging mischances, without paying too much heed to reputed danger. One is assisted much by knowing that there is no other _coup_ and danger. "Somehow, nine times out of ten the diminished rebels of Emin Pasha's government relied on their craft and on the wiles of a 'heathen Chinee,' and it is rather amusing now to look back and note how punishment has fallen upon them. "Was it Providence or luck? Let those who love to analyze such matters reflect on it. Traitors without the camp and traitors within were watched, and the most active conspirator was discovered, tried and hanged. Traitors without fell foul of one another and ruined themselves. If not luck, then surely it is Providence, in answer to good men's prayers far away. "Our people, tempted by extreme wretchedness and misery, sold our rifles and ammunition to our natural enemies, the Manyema slave-holders. True friends, without the least grace in either their bodies or souls! What happy influence was it that restrained me from destroying all those concerned in it? "Each time I read the story of Captain Nelson's and Surgeon Parkes' sufferings I feel vexed at my forbearance, and yet again I feel thankful, for a higher power than man's severely afflicted the cold-blooded murderers by causing them to feed upon one another a few weeks after the rescue and relief of Nelson and Parkes. The memory of those days alternately hardens and unmans me. "With the rescue of Emin Pasha, poor old Casati, and those who preferred Egypt's flesh pots to the coarse plenty of the province near Nyanza, we returned, and while we were patiently waiting the doom of the rebels was consummated. "Since that time of anxiety and unhappy outlook I have been at the point of death from a dreadful illness. The strain had been too much, and for twenty-eight days I lay helpless, tended by the kindly and skilful hand of Surgeon Parkes. Then little by little I gathered strength and ordered the march for home. "Discovery after discovery in this wonderful region was made. The snowy ranges of Ruevenzoni, the 'Cloud King' or 'Rain Creator,' the Semliki River. Albert Edward Nyanza, the plains of Noongora, the salt lakes of Kative, new peoples, Wakonju of the Great Mountains, dwellers of the rich forest region, the Awamba, the fine-featured Wasonyora, the Wanyoro bandits, and then Lake Albert Edward, the tribes and shepherd races of the Eastern uplands, then Wanyankori, besides Wanyaruwamba and Wazinja, until at last we came to a church, whose cross dominated a Christian settlement, and we knew that we had reached the outskirts of blessed civilization. "We have every reason to be grateful, and may that feeling be ever kept within me. Our promises as volunteers have been performed as well as though we had been specially commissioned by the government. We have been all volunteers, each devoting his several gifts, abilities and energies to win a successful issue for the enterprise. If there has been anything that clouds sometimes our thoughts, it has been that we were compelled by the state of Emin Pasha and his own people to cause anxieties to our friends by serious delays. "At every opportunity I have endeavored to lessen these by despatching full accounts of our progress to the committee, that through them all interested might be acquainted with what we are doing. "Some of my officers also have been troubled in the thought that their government might not overlook their having overstayed their leave, but the truth is that the wealth of the British treasury could not have hastened our march, without making ourselves liable to an impeachment for breach of faith, and my officers were as much involved as myself in doing the thing honorably and well." The same mail brought to Sir William Mackinnon a letter from Stanley, dated Kafurro, Arab Settlement, Karagwa, August 5th, 1889, from which the following is taken: "On the 13th of February a native courier appeared in camp with a letter from Emin Pasha with news which electrified us. He was actually at anchor just below our plateau camp; but here is his formal letter: "'IN CAMP, February 13th, 1889. "'To HENRY M. STANLEY, Commanding the Relief Expedition: "'SIR--In answer to your letter of the 7th inst., for which I beg to tender my best thanks, I have the honor to inform you that yesterday, at three, I arrived here with my two steamers, carrying the first lot of people desirous to leave this country under your escort. As soon as I have arranged for the cover of my people the steamships have to start for Mswa station, to bring on another lot of people awaiting transport. With me there are some twelve officers anxious to see you, and only forty soldiers. They have come under my orders to request you to give them some time to bring their brothers, at least such as are willing to leave from Wadelai, and I promised them to do my best to assist them. "'Things having to some extent now changed, you will be able to make them undergo whatever conditions you see fit to impose upon them. To arrange these I shall start from here with my officers for your camp, after having provided for the camp, and if you send carriers I could avail myself of some of them. I hope, sincerely, that the great difficulties you have had to undergo, and the great sacrifices made by your expedition on its way to assist us, may be rewarded by full success in bringing out my people. The wave of insanity which overran the country has subsided, and of such people as are now coming with me we may be sure. "'Signor Casati requests me to give his best thanks for your kind remembrance of him. Permit me to express to you, once more, my cordial thanks for whatever you have done for us until now, and believe me to be yours, very faithfully, "'DR. EMIN.'" On the 17th of February Emin Pasha and a following of about sixty people, including several high officials, arrived at Stanley's camp. They seemed unanimously in favor of departure from their position; but they pleaded for time, and finally the 10th of April was decided upon as the final day of the delay, which now had aggregated nearly a year. Emin Pasha throughout this interview insisted that it all remained with his people, but still April 10th was agreed to as a day when all could be ready for the start. This decision was emphasized by a council of Stanley's officers, all of whom agreed that no delay beyond the appointed day should be thought of. After much hesitation and questioning on Emin's part, lest he should do a wrong in abandoning any of his people, his final muster was made and the march was begun on the day set by Mr. Stanley. CHAPTER XXXIV. FORWARD MARCH! "At muster this curious result was returned: There were with us one hundred and thirty-four men, eighty-four married women, one hundred and eighty-seven female domestics, seventy-four children above two years, thirty-five infants in arms--making a total of five hundred and fourteen. I have reason to believe that the number was nearer six hundred, as many were not reported from fear probably that some would be taken prisoners. "On the 10th of April we set out from Kavallis, in number about one thousand five hundred, for three hundred and fifty native carriers had been enrolled from the district, to assist in carrying the baggage of the Pasha's people, whose ideas as to what was essential for the march were very crude. "On the 11th we camped at Masambonis, but in the night I was struck down with a severe illness, which well nigh proved mortal. It detained us at the camp twenty-eight days, which, if Selim Bey and his party were really serious in their intentions to withdraw from Africa, was most fortunate for them, since it increased their time allowance to seventy-two days. But in all this interval only Shukri Aga, the chief of Mswa Station, appeared. He had started with twelve soldiers, but they, one by one, disappeared, until he had only one trumpeter and one servant. A few days after the trumpeter absconded. Thus only one servant was left out of a garrison of sixty men who were reported to be the faithfullest of the faithful. "On the 8th of May our march was resumed. The route skirted the Mega Mountains at their southern end, and encountered the King of Uyoro. The first day's encounter was in our favor, and it cleared the territory as far as the Semliki River, of the Wanyoro. Meantime we had become aware that we were on the threshold of a region which promised to be very interesting, for daily, as we advanced to the southward, the great snowy range which had so suddenly arrested our attention and excited our intense interest on May 1, 1888, grew larger and bolder into view. It extended a long distance to the southwest, which would inevitably take us some distance off our course, unless a pass could be discovered to shorten the distance to the countries south. "Much, however, as we had flattered ourselves that we should see some marvellous scenery, the 'Snow Mountain' was very coy and hard to see. On most days it looked impending over us like a tropical storm cloud, ready to dissolve in rain and ruin. On its snowy cap shot into view jagged clouds, whirling and eddying round. Often at sunrise Ruwenzori would appear like a crag deeply marked and clearly visible, but presently all would be buried under mass upon mass of mist until the immense mountain was no more visible than if we were thousands of miles away; and then, also, the 'Snow Mountain' being set deeply in the range, the nearer we approached the base of the range the less we saw of it. "It took us nineteen marches to reach the southwest angle of the range, the Semliki Valley being below us on our right, and which, if the tedious mist had permitted, would have been exposed in every detail. That part of the valley traversed by us is generally known under the name of Awamba, while the habitable portion of the range is principally denominated Ukonju. The huts of the natives, the Bakonju, are seen as high as 8,000 feet above the sea. "A few days later we entered Unyampaka, which I had visited in January, 1876. Ringi, the king, allowed us to feast on his bananas unquestioned. After following the lake shore until it turned too far to the southwest, we struck for the lofty uplands of Aukori, by the natives of which we were well received, preceded as we had been by the reports of our great deeds in relieving salt lake of the presence of the universally obnoxious Warosura. "If you draw a straight line from Nyanza to the Uzinja shores of Victoria Lake it would represent pretty fairly our course through Aukori, Karagwe and Uhaiya to Uzinja. "Aukori was open to us because we had driven Wanyaro from the salt lake. The story was an open sesame. Here also existed a wholesome fear of an expedition which had done that which all the power of Aukori could not have done. Karagwe was open to us, because free trade is the policy of Wanyamba and because the Wateanda were too much engrossed with their civil war to interfere with our passage. Uhaiya admitted our entrance without cavil, out of respect to our numbers, and Wakwiya guided us in a like manner, to be welcomed by Wazinja. "Nothing happened during our long journey from Albert Lake to cause us any regret that we had taken this straight course, but we have suffered from an unprecedented number of fevers. We have had as many as one hundred and fifty cases in one day. In the month of July we lost one hundred and forty-one Egyptians. "Out of respect to the first British Prince who has shown an interest in African geography we have named the southern Nyanza, to distinguish it from the other two Nyanzas, Albert Edward Nyanza. It is not a very large lake compared to Victoria, Tanganika and Nyassa. It is small, but its importance and interest lie in the sole fact that it is the receiver of all the streams at the extremity of the southwestern or Left Nile basin, and discharges these waters by one river, the Semliki, into Albert Nyanza. In a like manner Lake Victoria receives all streams from the extremity of the southeastern or Right Nile basin and pours these waters by the Victoria Nile into Albert Nyanza. These two Niles amalgamate in Lake Albert, under the well-known name of White Nile. "By the route taken I traversed the Semliki Valley, the Awamba, the Usongora, the Toro, the Utraiyana, the Unyampaka, the Antrosi, the Karagive, the Uhaiya, the Uzimza, the South Victoria and the Nyanza. No hostile natives were met. Since we left Kabbarega we travelled along the base of the snowy range Ruwenzori. Three sides of the Southern Nyanza or Nyanza of Usongora, which is called now Albert Edward Nyanza, are about nine hundred feet higher than Albert Nyanza, having an exit at Semliki which receives over fifty streams from the Ruwenzori and finally enters the Albert Nyanza, making the Albert Edward the source of the southwest branch of the White Nile, the Victoria Nyanza being the source of the southeast branch." The relief committee at once made arrangements for the forwarding of supplies to meet Stanley at Mpwapwa. It was thought that he could not reach the coast before the beginning of next year. Mpwapwa is a station about one hundred and fifty miles from the coast, on the road from Zanzibar and Bagamoyo to Lake Tanganika. But the expedition made rapid progress. On November 20th Captain Wissmann telegraphed from Zanzibar that Stanley had reached Mpwapwa on November 10th, and simultaneously there came a despatch which Captain Wissmann had written at Mpwapwa on October 13th, as follows: "Four of Stanley's men and one of Emin's soldiers have arrived here. They left Stanley at Neukmma on August 10th, and came by way of Noembo and Mwerieweri north to Mgogo in thirty-three days, including nine days on which they rested. Emin and Casati had three hundred Soudanese soldiers and many other followers with them. They had in their possession a large quantity of ivory. Stanley had a force of two hundred and forty Zanzibaris and was accompanied by six lieutenants--Nelson, Jephson, Stairs, Parke, Bonny and William. The expedition struck camp as soon as the messengers started. Therefore the party should reach Mpwapwa by November 20th. Emin and Stanley repeatedly fought and repulsed the Mahdists, capturing the Mahdi's grand banner. A majority of Emin's soldiers refused to follow him southwards, asserting that their way home did not lie in that direction. Emin left two Egyptian officers in charge of stations." This prediction that the expedition would reach Mpwapwa by November 20th was more than verified. He got there on November 10th. On November 11th Sir William Mackinnon received a despatch from Stanley announcing his arrival there, and stating that he expected to reach Zanzibar in a few days. To the British Consul at Zanzibar Mr. Stanley wrote, under the same date: "We arrived here yesterday on the fifty-fifth day from Victoria Nyanza and the one hundred and eighty-eighth day from the Albert Nyanza. We number altogether about seven hundred and fifty souls. At the last muster, three days ago, Emin Pasha's people numbered two hundred and ninety-four, of whom fifty-nine are children, mostly orphans of Egyptian officers. The whites with me are Lieutenant Stairs, Captain Nelson, Mounteney, Jephson, Surgeon Parke, William Bonny, Mr. Hoffman, Emin Pasha and his daughter, Captain Casati, Signor Marco and a Tunisian, Vitu Hassan, and an apothecary. We have also Pères Girault and Schinze, of the Algerian mission. Among the principal officers of the Pasha are the Vakeers, of the Equatorial province, and Major Awash Effendi, of the Second battalion. "Since leaving Victoria Nyanza we have lost eighteen of the Pasha's people, and one native of Zanzibar, who was killed while we were parleying with hostile people. Every other expedition I have led has seen the lightening of our labors as we drew near the sea, but I cannot say the same of this one. Our long string of hammock bearers tells a different tale, and until we place these poor things on shipboard there will be no rest for us. The worst of it is we have not the privilege of showing at Zanzibar the full extent of our labors. After carrying some of them one thousand miles, fighting to the right and left of the sick, driving Warasura from their prey, over range and range of mountains, with every energy on the full strain, they slip through our hands and die in their hammocks. One lady, seventy-five years of age, the old mother of the Valkiel, died in this manner in North Msukuma, south of Victoria Nyanza. "We had as stirring a time for four days as we had anywhere. For those four days we had continuous fighting during the greater part of daylight hours. The foolish natives took an unaccountable prejudice to the Pasha's people. They insisted that they were cannibals and had come to their country for no good. Talking to them was of no use. Any attempt at disproof drove them into white hot rage, and in their mad flinging of themselves on us they suffered." CHAPTER XXXV. AT THE COAST AT LAST. A special correspondent of the _New York Herald_ reached Msuwah at 5 P. M., on November 29th, and immediately sent to that paper the following despatch: "I have just met Henry M. Stanley, Emin Pasha, Casati, Lieutenant Stairs, Mr. Jephson, Dr. Parke, Nelson and Bonny and five hundred and sixty men, women and children. "I have found Stanley looking exceedingly hearty. He wears a Prussian cap, linen breeches and canvas shoes. "I presented him with the American flag with which I was intrusted, and it is now flying from Mr. Stanley's tent. "The great explorer's hair is quite white and his moustache is iron gray. "Emin Pasha is a slight, dark man. He wears spectacles. In a short conversation which I had with him he told me he did not wish for any honors for what he had done. He simply desired to be employed again in the Khedive's service. "I have given Captain Casati his letters. He looks well, but the hardships which he has undergone seem to have quite undermined his constitution. "All the other Europeans are well. We shall proceed toward the coast the day after to-morrow. "Stanley, Emin and Casati were entertained at dinner last night in this camp by Baron Gravenreath. Speeches were made by the Baron and by Stanley. The Baron complimented Stanley, Emin and their companions on their march from Central Africa. Stanley responded and praised German enterprise and civilizing abilities." Mr. Stanley and his comrades moved steadily forward, and on December 3d were met by Major Wissmann at Atoni on the Kinghani River. The occasion was duly celebrated by the drinking of healths and loyal toasts in bumpers of champagne. Major Wissmann provided horses, and Mr. Stanley and Emin Pasha made a triumphal entry into Bagamoyo at 11 o'clock on Wednesday morning, December 4th. The town was profusely decorated with bunting and verdant arches, and palms were waving from every window. Major Wissmann's force and the German man-of-war "Sperber" fired salutes. All the vessels in the roadstead were handsomely decked with flags. Major Wissmann entertained the party at luncheon, when the captain of the "Sperber" formally welcomed Mr. Stanley, and then congratulated Emin on behalf of Emperor William. During the afternoon many Europeans came to greet the explorers. In the evening there was a champagne banquet. The German Consul offered a toast in honor of Queen Victoria. Major Wissmann toasted Stanley, calling him his master in African exploration. Mr. Stanley made an eloquent reply. He thanked God that he had done his duty, and referred with emotion to the soldiers whose bones were bleaching in the forest. He said his motto had always been "Onward." He testified to the divine influence that had guided him in his work. Emin Pasha toasted Emperor William. Lieutenant Stairs responded to a toast to Stanley's officers. Major Brackenbury proposed the health of Major Wissmann, which was drunk with all honors, the company heartily singing "He's a jolly good fellow." The festivities of the evening had, however, a sad ending. A great crowd gathered outside, lustily cheering the illustrious guests. Emin Pasha went to a window and stepped out upon the balcony to acknowledge the compliment. Being nearly blind, he stumbled and fell over the low parapet to the street, a distance of twenty feet. He was picked up terribly bruised, the blood streaming from his ears, and it was feared that his skull was fractured. All the physicians present declared his injuries fatal, excepting Stanley's comrade, Dr. Parke. He took a more hopeful view of the case. Next day it was found that the skull was not broken, although Emin had sustained various severe internal injuries. Mr. Stanley telegraphed to England that the Pasha's condition was most critical, and that the German naval surgeons there declared that only twenty in a hundred of such cases ever recover, this percentage including all the cases of men in the vigor of life. Emin's age was not great, but his physical condition was not good. In addition to other bad symptoms, the hemorrhage from the ears continued, and this, though it prevented the immediate formation of a large clot in the brain, menaced life by loss of strength. He was lying in the German hospital at Bagamoyo. Dr. Parke still had some hope. Day by day news of the patient grew better, and soon he was regarded as on the sure though slow road to recovery. Mr. Stanley was conveyed from Bagamoyo to Zanzibar by the German warship "Sperber," which had been placed at his disposal by the Emperor. This was a compliment without precedent. On December 5th the German Emperor telegraphed to Emin: "Now you have at last returned from your post, where you have remained over eleven years, with truly German loyalty and devotion to duty, I am glad to greet you, sending my congratulations and imperial appreciation. I have felt special satisfaction from the fact that it was through territory under our protection that German forces were able to smooth the way to the coast for your return." At the same time the Emperor cabled to Stanley as follows: "Thanks to your perseverance and inflexible courage, you have now, after repeatedly crossing the Dark Continent, overcome a new and long succession of exceeding perils and almost unendurable hardships. That, after surmounting those, your return journey should lead you through lands covered by my flag, affords me great satisfaction, and I welcome you heartily to civilization and security." Stanley cabled the following answer: "Imperator et Rex: My expectation has now reached its end. I have had the honor to be hospitably entertained by Major Wissmann and other of your Majesty's officers under him. Since arriving from Mpwapwa our travels have come to a successful conclusion. We have been taken across from Bagamoyo to Zanzibar by your Majesty's ships 'Sperber' and 'Schwalbe' and all honors, coupled with great affability, have been accorded us. "I gratefully remember the hospitality and princely affability extended to me at Potsdam, and am profoundly impressed with your Majesty's condescension, kindness and gracious welcome. With a full and sincere heart I exclaim, Long live the noble Emperor William!" The Emperor was immensely pleased with Stanley's reply. He read it aloud, encircled by a brilliant party, at a supper given by the Grand Duke of Hesse. Then he again cabled to Stanley, urging him to make an early visit to Berlin, and giving him hearty assurance of a warm German greeting. In England Mr. Stanley was the hero of the day. Tributes to his worth abounded on every hand. The Royal Geographical Society took in charge the arrangements for a formal welcome on his return. 
41003	----	The Eye of Istar A Romance of the Land of No Return By William Le Queux Illustrations by Alfred Pearse Published by Frederick A. Stokes Company, New York. The Eye of Istar, by William Le Queux. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ THE EYE OF ISTAR, BY WILLIAM LE QUEUX. PREFACE. _PEACE, O READER! Constant, blessed and abundant salutations_. _Of a verity the groves of my hopes have been refreshed by cooling showers from the clouds of Allah's blessing, my rose garden has been weeded of the thorns of despondency, and the tree of my prosperity has become fruit-bearing from the breeze of his bounty. He is the Giver of Gifts, the Source of Liberality, the Sovereign, the dust of whose sandals is deservedly the collyrium of the eyes of mortal men; and I, called by my fellows El-Motardjim, am the servant who, in compliance with the exalted command, have placed my finger of acquiescence on the vision of obedience. During many hopeless nights I waited for the radiation of the sun of the benefits of prosperity, and counted the stars till the rise of dawn, but, by my ill-luck and the machinations of enemies, was deprived of the felicity of penetrating the mystery of the Land Forbidden_. _At length, however, on a happy day when the fire of my anguish burned so brightly that it was not easy to extinguish it with the water of patience, the Abolisher of the signs of darkness and aberration invested me with the robe of the favoured, guarded me through the calamities and vicissitudes of fortune during long journeys, directed my footsteps through the mazes of paths untrodden, and revealed unto my dazzled eyes weird and wondrous marvels stranger than men have dreamed_. _Therefore, O Reader! wipe the dust of ennui and fatigue from the speculum of thy mind, withdraw the tongue of blame into thy palate, and lend a willing ear to this my Tarik; for, verily, I have elucidated the secret of the mystic Land of the No Return; I have torn the veil that hideth the Great Sin from the eyes of men, and have gazed into the Eye of Istar. "Imsh Allah_!" PROLOGUE. Thrice hath the Fast of Ramadan come and gone since the Granter of Requests last allowed my eyes to behold the well-remembered landscape, scarcely visible in the pale light of dawn. Hills, covered with tall feathery palms, rose abruptly from the barren, sun-scorched plain, and, at their foot, stood the dazzlingly-white city of Omdurman, the impregnable and mysterious headquarters of Mahdiism, while beyond, like a silver ribbon winding through the marshes, the Nile glided, half veiled by its thin white cloud of morning vapours. Within the walled and strongly-guarded city was a scene, strange and fantastic. The air, heavy with war rumours, was rent by the deafening strokes of enormous brazen tamtams, mingling with the loud shouts of dark-faced Jalins, half-naked negro fanatics of the Kunjara and the Dinka, armed _cap a pie_, ready for battle at a moment's notice. The excitement, which had increased daily for many months, had risen to fever heat. Throughout the short, hot night, the great _nahas_--those huge brass war drums of the Khalifa Abdullah, Ruler of the Soudan--had been beaten by relays of perspiring negro slaves, glittering with beads and trinkets, the indescribable monotonous rhythm causing the wildly-excited populace to cry, "_Nakelkum_!" and "_Naklulkum_!" as, in the fresh, cool hour, when the Wolf's Tail--the first brushes of grey light which appear as forerunners of dawn--showed in the heavens, they seized guns, spears and shields, and rushing from their houses across the great square of Abu Anga they congregated in the wide, open space near the Tree of Hadra, where the Raya Zerga, or dreaded black standard of the Khalifa, hung ominous and motionless in the morning air. Wild-haired men sped fleetly to and fro, brandishing their gleaming arms and apostrophising Eblis; women left their millet unbeaten and followed, while musicians chanted war songs softly in a sad falsetto, accompanying themselves upon their little _ginkris_--those queer, two stringed guitars, fashioned from a tortoise shell, which give forth a dismal sound like the chirping of a grasshopper of the oasis. The servants of the Merciful are those who walk meekly on the earth, and when the ignorant speak to them, answer, "Peace"; and who pass the night adoring Allah, and standing up to pray unto him, and who say, "O Allah, avert from us the torment of hell, for the torment thereof is perpetual; verily, the same is a miserable abode"; and who, when they bestow, are neither profuse nor niggardly, but observe a just medium between these, and who invoke not another god together with the One Allah, neither slay the soul which Allah hath forbidden to be slain, unless for a just cause. The Dervishes were going forth to battle. On one side of the spacious review ground frowned the castellated walls of the imposing white fortress, held so long by Faragallah Pasha against the fierce hordes of the Mahdi; on the other, the ill-built quarters of the Genadien, or regular soldiers, while the single tree in the centre was historical by reason of the head of Gordon, the brave Pasha of the Infidels, having been exhibited thereon by order of our tyrannical lord, the Madhi. It was at this spot that the wild multitude heaped curses upon the last grim relic of the gallant, deserted hero of Khartoum, the man whose matchless bravery and dogged perseverance were alike admired by my own co-religionists, as well as by the Infidels themselves. But the Mahdi, Khalifat-er-Rasul--the great False Prophet, renowned throughout the world, who, by inducing us to believe that, by his supernatural influence, he could transform the bullets of the white men into water, caused us to flock to his standard and attempt to conquer the Soudan--was now dead, and the power of the Khalifa Abdullah supreme. Seven years ago had the hand of Allah's justice fallen heavily upon the hypocritical imitator of the Great Prophet, who asserted that he could part the waters of the Nile, that his body was invulnerable, and who was so successful in his ingenious impostures that the people threw themselves down frantically to kiss the spots his crimson slippers had touched, while the water in which he performed his ablutions was drunk as an unfailing remedy for every sort of malady. The very dust of his sandals was declared to be the collyrium of the eyes of men. But the struggle with the English, the fall of El Obeid, the capture of Galabat, and the defeat and death of the King of Abyssinia were events now long past and forgotten. In this record of fact, adventure and strange marvels, I, Zafar-Ben-A'Ziz, called by some, El-Motardjim ("the translator"), on account of my knowledge of many tongues, am compelled to speak of myself. I am not a Soudanese, but an Arab, son of the Hadj Yakub Sarraf, Kaid of the Aures. I passed my childhood at my birthplace, El-Manaa, two days' journey from Batna. Then my father, having trading relations with an Arab merchant living in London, the giant city of the English, I was sent there for two years to learn the tongue. But I cared not for the English, nor the ways of life in a city where the women go abroad unveiled and laugh in the faces of the men, where speech is carried along wires, where light is shed by two wires in contact and where carriages are propelled along the roads without horses. Of a verity, the London of the English is a city full of marvels, infidel customs, amazing sights, and the accursed inventions of Eblis himself. To the English the One Accursed has imparted the secret of his wiles and miracles, whereby they are the powerful people on the face of the earth. After two years rubbing shoulders with the white men who believed not in the Prophet, but worshipped a cross as emblem of their deity, I grew weary, for, during the whole time, mine eyes were never refreshed by seeing the interior of a mosque, although once or twice I entered their churches without removing my shoes, as is their custom. During my absence in the land of the Infidels my mother died, and six moons after my return my father was taken into Certainty. Then life among my people, the Chawi--the beauty of whose women is world famous-- had but little charm for me, born Bedouin that I am. I longed for the journeys afar by camel, the free life, the burning sun and the limitless horizon. I felt the need of the devouring heat. I sighed for the desert and the endless sands, and all my youthful dreams were radiant with rosy anticipations. Therefore, after a few months of idleness, I resolved to quit my studies and travel south across the Great Desert. At sunrise, one day, I left behind my native mountains, and, with a camel caravan, journeyed to Mourzouk. Thence I travelled with various caravans to El Fasher, Dem Zibehr, Lado, and other places in the Soudan, on many occasions finding myself in Khartoum, where several times I saw the grave-faced Gordon, the heroic White Pasha, who was afterwards so treacherously murdered. At the age of twenty-one I had succeeded in establishing a small caravan of my own to journey between Khartoum and Suakin, but suddenly the Mahdi rose against the Christians, and all trade was stopped. Unfortunately, being an Arab from Algeria, I was an alien, therefore my camels were at once seized, and, against my will, I was pressed into military service, forced to take the _bea'a_, and bear my part in the holy war under the dreaded standard of the Madhi. At Tamai and Abu Klea I fought the English invaders, afterwards carrying arms in Dongola, Berber, Galabat, Karkoj and Kordofan, where I fought Infidels, slave-raiders and rebellious tribes, witnessing many fierce combats and scenes of massacre too horrible to describe. "Allah encompasseth the Infidels," says our Koran. "The lightning wanteth but little of taking away their sight; so often as it enlighteneth them they walk therein, but when darkness cometh on them they stand still." I loved the brilliant nights and the ruddy splendour of the moonbeams reflected on the sands; even the sinister howls of the jackals on the plains of Kababich had become a familiar sound and no longer disturbed me. Such, briefly, is the story how, from a student at the French Lycee at Algiers, and a clerk in a London merchant's office, I developed into a Dervish. Now, however, as one of the renowned Ansar-ed-Din of the False Prophet's successor, I, with face seared by sun-scalds, sat my milk-white horse in the square of Abu Anga, ready to take part in the monster parade, prior to setting forth upon an expedition across the Great Desert, westward to Kano, the great capital of the powerful Sultan of Sokoto, which all knew would be fraught with many perils. But it was the Khalifa's will; none dare demur. In the Koran, our perspicuous Book of Everlasting Will, it is written that "Allah, the One Worthy of Praise, alone knoweth the heart of man," therefore he is aware that the profane chicanery of the Mahdi had impressed me not, neither did I admire the fanatical teaching of the Khalifa's speeches and sermons. But to speak in Omdurman against Mahdiism, or the Khalifa, meant death, therefore silence and obedience were best. Indeed, life was at all times uncertain in the Dervish capital. The Khalifa was intensely vain and proud, professing the religion of Al-Islam, but leading an idle, dissolute life, shut up in his great white Palace, surrounded by all the pomp and splendour of a Soudanese Sultan. Cruel, quick-tempered and distrustful, he was fearful and jealous of his authority, and the smallest infringement of it was looked upon as a heinous offence, to be punished accordingly. By an elaborate system, he was surrounded by villainous, despicable spies, who all pandered to his jealous and tyrannical nature. These spies were everywhere, and besides obtaining admission to private houses in order to ascertain if the inmates were loyal, their duty was also to seek out the most attractive girls to grace their master's extensive harem. Wherever a pretty woman was found throughout his dominions he at once received information about her, and in a very short time she was conveyed to the palace of Omdurman, where the hundred fountains were refreshing, the marble courts were cool, and the Garden of Enchantment was red with flowers and green with many leaves. CHAPTER ONE. THE BLAST OF THE ONBEIA. We were leaving Omdurman, on an expedition to the far west, beyond the high misty mountains of Marran and the great glaring Saharan plains. Our forces, consisting of over fifteen thousand armed warriors, were assembling to parade and receive our Ruler's blessing ere we departed. Red and fiery the sun rose, the houses shone milk-white against the intense blue of the sky, the monotonous thumping of the _nahas_ continued, the yelling of the fanatical multitude increased, and the black silken standard, planted in the centre of the parade-ground, stirred by a breath of hot wind, suddenly spread itself out lazily, revealing its inscription in sprawly Arabic characters of bright yellow. The excited populace, the black-faced warriors of the Tumali, the Tegeleand the Fajelu, regarding this as a good omen, shouted themselves hoarse in cursing our enemies, but a few seconds later the sound of loud trumpets echoed across the square, and a silence, sudden and complete, fell upon the multitude. Drawn up in long lines, we were facing in the direction of the Holy City, ranging ourselves in order, attending the commands of Allah and the Khalifa and celebrating the divine praise. From where I sat I had full view of the great arched gate of the Palace, which next second was thrown open as the Khalifa himself, stout, dark-bearded, and hawk-eyed, rode forth, accompanied by his officers and bodyguard. Mounted on a fine camel, and wearing a suit of golden mail armour and a helmet with spotless plume, he was surrounded by about two hundred horsemen also clad in mail, with thick, red turbans around their helmets, their horses all wearing brass head armour to protect them from sword cuts. Four _onbeia_ blowers walked in front, and, in turns, sounded the great elephant's tusk, while, headed by the dreaded sable standard and moving very slowly, came the Khalifa, stern, stately, statuesque, with drawn sword. Behind, followed the gaudily-attired _mulazimin_, or body-servants, riding, while his black guards, veritable giants in stature, formed a compact square around him. The spectacle was brilliant and imposing. In the bright morning sunshine the spears and armour of the cavalcade flashed and glittered, and, as the Khalifa drew up his camel within a few yards of me, his keen black eyes wandered around us, as if in search of absentees. Thrice the deafening plaudits of the multitude rent the air; thrice he bowed an acknowledgment with regal gesture. With one voice the people cried, "Alhamdolillah!"--the pious expression which leaves the lips of True Believers on all occasions of concluding actions--the review began, and the wild enthusiasm and confusion knew no bounds. Remington rifles with ammunition were distributed to us, in addition to the customary three spears and sword, and, amid the endless shouting and recitation of suras from the Koran, with bows and protestations we dashed at a wild gallop hither and thither past the powerful Ruler of the Soudan, raising clouds of white dust. At length, in obedience to a long, loud blast from the _onbeia_, we halted, and the Khalifa--whose custom it was to attend the mosque five times a day and to enforce the presence of all his principal emirs--commenced the second portion of the parade. The review, or _arda_, as it was called, was a religious ceremony, and those who took part in it were supposed to obtain special advantages and blessings. Gazing slowly around him, with an expression of restlessness and revenge clearly portrayed upon his gross, bloated features, he waved his fat hand, with imperious gesture, exclaiming in a loud, firm voice,-- "Harken unto me, O my people! The believer doth not escape from the chastisement of Allah--whose glory be glorified,--until he leaveth four things--lying, pride, niggardliness and evil-thinking. Paradise desireth four kinds of men: the first of them are they who feed the hungry; the second, they who lend succour unto the naked; the third, they who fast in Ramadan; and the fourth, they who read the Koran. Fear ye Allah in secret, O my people!" Every head bent low in obedient submission, every voice cried with one accord, "May the peace of Allah cover thee like a cloak, O august Ruler! O Pearl of the conch of Prophecy!" "Our kingdom is made flourishing through justice, is protected by courage, and ruled by good government," he continued. "Good government is that the gate of the Chief be guarded in the proper time of being guarded, and opened in the proper time of being open, and the gate-keeper friendly. Verily, the One Merciful hath servants whom he distinguisheth with his favours, and whom he rewardeth for fighting for the Faith with great rewards. To go forth into battle against the Sultan of Sokoto is necessary for the well being of our State, and of our people; therefore, O men-at-arms, gird your loins and sharpen your spears, so that ye may enter the great city of Kano, vanquish your enemies, trample their country underfoot, deliver it over to fire and sword, and return hither to your ease within yonder walls of this, your dwelling-place. In the darkness of night, as in the sunshine of noon, ye carry with ye upon thy wanderings the ever-anxious thoughts of your Khalifa, into whose keeping the welfare of our kingdom was entrusted by the holy Mahdi whom Allah, who liveth in Heaven, hath been pleased to remove from amongst us." "His name be exalted and praised!" roared the excited, dark-faced multitude. "May it endure as long as time lasts!" "True, O my people," continued the autocrat, with well-feigned reverence. "May our great Chief, El-Mahdi, drink of the stream Al-Cawthar, whiter than milk or silver, and more odoriferous than musk, with as many cups set around it as there are stars in the firmament, of which water whosoever drinketh will thirst no more for ever. May he wander through the groves of Jannat-al-Ferdaws with the glorious Hur-al-oyun, whose dark eyes are a pleasure to beholders, and whose pavilions are as hollow pearls." Then, after the people had given vent to loud acclamations, he repeated, in a loud voice, two long prayers from the Koran, followed by the _khutba_ for days of the Jihad, "Praise be to Allah, the One Merciful, who is the best of helpers; for we say, verily, help us against the Infidel people. He who is dissatisfied with the licentious, we ask Him, `Do help us against the Infidel people.' Glory to Him who scattereth the strength of the unbelievers; so we say, verily, `Do help us.' He who surroundeth with His aid His grateful worshippers, help us. He whom Allah sent to give vigour unto the lukewarm, help us. Know ye that Allah, whose name be exalted, has written upon you the Jihad against the wicked. Therefore, exert yourselves and say, `Help us against the Infidels, and may their place be in Al-Hawiyat.' And be ye patient in the fatigues of the expedition; for, verily, His help maketh bold those who watch. Then say ye, `Help us against the Infidels. Thou art our Allah. Then help us against the people of the Infidels.'" This concluded, he delivered a further invocation for the victory of the religion of Al-Islam, long life for himself, and the continual success of his arms, following it up with a prayer, calling down the vengeance of Allah on all unbelievers and those who had erred from the paths of Mahdiism, especially the enemies we were about to attack, and asking that their wives and children might be given as booty unto us. At the end of the prayers he repeated the _Fatiha_, the whole gigantic assembly joining in the declaration of the Unity, loud, fervent, impressive. Every head again bowed for a second, then wild yelling, shrill battle-cries and deafening war gongs sounded, mad, enthusiastic confusion becoming general everywhere as the Khalifa Abdullah and his black bodyguard slowly moved back along the Nile bank towards the great white Palace, the ponderous iron-studded gates of which opened wide to receive them. Men and women, giving vent to cries of "_Sidi! Khalifat el Mahdi_!" and "_Ya Sidi ana mazlum_!" threw themselves upon their faces, craving his blessing as he passed, and some of the more fanatical struggled and fought with his bodyguard of ebon-faced Taisha in a vain endeavour to touch the hem of the garment of the Great Ruler inspired by Allah. Thus, while the shouting multitude followed our Master, we dismounted, ate the handful of dhurra allotted to each of us, and took leave of our women and relations prior to setting forth on the first stage of an expedition to Kano, the City of the Mirage, which most probably would occupy us many months, and from which many of us would certainly never return. CHAPTER TWO. SUN AND SILENCE. Headed by the great Raya Zerga, held in awe throughout the Soudan from Assouan even unto Lado, we of the Jihadieh, two hours later, under the heat of the brilliant sun, rode forth from the city gate, amid the vociferous shouting of the women, the frantic beating of war drums, the ear-piercing blast of great _onbeias_ and the encouraging yells of old men and children. Then, with a parting war-cry, our gleaming swords flourishing in air, we left the cupolas and minarets of Omdurman behind, and spurred forward in huge compact bodies towards the low, distant hills, half hidden in their mystic haze, but supposed to be the abode of the Jinns, or genii, which our dead lord, the Mahdi, declared always fought in thousands on our side. Some of my comrades-in-arms declared that they had had visions of these strange creatures, but I confess I have never seen one, and am inclined to agree with what one of the White Fathers once told us in El Obeid, that their existence is purely imaginary. But perhaps I am a sceptic. Indeed, my white skin betrayed my Arab parentage, and, because of it, I had long ago been nicknamed by my dark-visaged comrades, "The Unbeliever." Not because I had ever expressed doubt as to the truth of the Mahdist teaching, but my pale face was alone responsible for the epithet which had, in fun, been bestowed upon me. My personal appearance, as a horseman of the great Khalifa, was, perhaps, not such as would commend itself to the Roumis, the enemies of Allah and His Prophet. My Jibbeh, or Dervish uniform coat, was dirty and patched with multi-coloured strips of cotton; on my head was the white skull-cap, called the _takia_, bound by a broad white turban; while I wore a pair of loose cotton unmentionables with a red girdle, and my bare feet were thrust into rough slippers of undressed cowhide. My weapons consisted of a circular shield which bore the deep dints of past combats, two small spears, one long one, a rifle, and a heavy sword with cross hilt strapped up under my left arm. Light-hearted, laughing among ourselves, and eager for the fray, we crossed the hills, but saw nothing of the mysterious Jinns; then, continuing our ride into the stony, waterless desert of Bayuda, that immense country forgotten of Allah, we halted at sundown for the _maghrib_, and journeyed forward yet another three hours before encamping. The expedition was under the leadership of Ali Wad Helu, chief of the Baggara Arabs, upon whose crimson flag, borne before him, was inscribed in gold in the Arabic character, `_Nekhrib ed Dunia wa nammir el Akher_.' (We shall destroy this, and create the next world). This was his motto. A fierce and fanatical warrior, he had acted a conspicuous and unenviable part in that terrible storm of 1885 which deluged the Soudan with blood, and now thought not of sparing the lives of his men, but urged that, by dying by the sword, we should go direct to the Jannat-al-Ferdaws, where the great lote-tree throws a cool shade, and where the houris have lips of musk and eyes bright and sparkling as stars of night. Resting during the day, on account of the furnace-heat of sunshine, and travelling during the clear, starlit nights over the sands with our black standard ever waving at our head, the hosts of the Khalifa swept onward through the land of sun and silence, like a great swarm of locusts, bent upon ruthless pillage and destruction. Day by day, week by week, we travelled over the immense plain, always in the crimson track of the dying day. Everywhere spread vast solitudes, an interminable country of desolation and sad monotony, without a plant or a vestige of life--only shifting, brown sand-hills, boundless horizons and a blinding glare of sun. Through Foja and El Fasher we passed, then over the great, bare mountains to Kol-Kol. Three journeys from that place, however, Ali Wad Helu, fearing attack by hostile tribes, sent forward fifty spearmen--of whom I was one--to act as scouts. The orders we received we obeyed promptly, and, heedless of heat and sand storms, we travelled rapidly onward to Abu Guerra, across infinite, mysterious solitudes, where the blazing heat and the loose sand retarded our advance, until, at last, we reached El-Asagga, on the shore of Lake Tsad, exactly one moon after our departure from Omdurman. Inured as the cavalry of the Khalifa were to the burning breath and silent gloom of the desert, the privations of the march and the fatigue of long travel, we found in this journey that our horses were utterly unfit to negotiate the stony wilderness that lay between ourselves and Kano, known to the desert wanderers as the City of the Mirage by reason of the amazing mirages seen in the vicinity almost daily; therefore, on arrival at the Well of Sabo-n-Gari, four days' journey south from the Lake, and two days' beyond the boundary of the territory of the Sultan of Sokoto, we resolved to encamp under the palms and await our main body in order to utilise the spare camels which they had brought with them in case of need. To attempt to approach nearer to the city we intended to attack would, we knew, result in speedy death. The last fires had faded from the west; moonless night had fallen. The poison-wind blew in sharp hot gusts, the heat from the sand was reflected into one's face, black clouds hung low and ominous, and the atmosphere, laden with particles of grit, was stifling. We prayed our _isha_, ate our dhurra, and leaving three of our comrades on the alert, in case of surprise, stretched ourselves in our tents and endeavoured to snatch a brief repose. The neighbourhood of the well was not a safe place after sundown, for wild beasts came there for water, and we had seen the marks of lions on the sands. Wearied, my eyes at length closed in sleep, and I was dreaming of cool, idle hours at my mountain home in the far-off Aures, and of bygone days amid the civilisation of London, when suddenly I was startled by the quick rattle of musketry, followed by fiendish yells, while, at the same moment, there was a flash of powder as a bullet tore its way through the canvas of my little tent, whistling unpleasantly near my head. Seizing my rifle, I sprang up, and, with my comrades who had been sleeping by my side, rushed forth. Next second I knew the truth. The place was alive with horsemen, led by a minor sheikh mounted upon a splendid grey. We had fallen into the trap against which our spies had repeatedly warned us, and were evidently being attacked from every side by the Tuaregs. In the Great Desert there are two terrors ever present--the sand and the Tuaregs. The latter are the forbidding-looking pirates of the desert, held in awe from El Fasher to Timbuktu. It is said that ages ago they were compelled to migrate south from the fertile Atlas into the Great Desert, and owing to their eyes being unaccustomed to the terrible glare, nor their lungs to the sand storms, they adopted a head dress with two veils. One, the _nicab_, is rolled round the temples, hanging down in front to protect the eyes; the other, the _litham_, reaches from the nostrils to the edge of the clothing, completely covering the lower part of the face. Hence they are known to-day, everywhere in the Soudan, as the "Veiled Men of the Desert," while upon all those who do not adopt their mysterious-looking costume they bestow the sobriquet, "mouths for flies." The veils are never removed, even at meal times, and the garb has become so much a part of them that any one, being deprived of it, is unrecognisable to his friends and relatives. If one of their number is killed in battle and divested of his veil, no one can identify him until it has been restored to its place. And this, in spite of the fact that the bridge of the nose and the eyes alone are visible. Their power is felt in nearly every part of the Great Desert, and to such an extent have they carried their depredations that until quite recently almost every town was compelled to pay them tribute. These nomads are thieves of the worst character, travellers and merchants being their principal victims. Their vague form of Islamism they have reduced to a belief in talismans, and their chest and back are covered with bags of black and yellow, like a cuirass. Ruse is their principal weapon, even though they never show themselves without spear or gun, a sword at their side and a poniard attached to the left arm. We, of the Khalifa's army, had bestowed upon them three epithets which epitomise their psychology--"Thieves, Hyenas, and the Abandoned of Allah." There had been a deadly feud of long standing between us, and they, learning that a small party of Dervishes was in the vicinity, had apparently come forth to check our advance. But the horsemen of the Khalifa Abdullah, Sultan of the Soudan, know not fear, as their valiant actions at Abu Klea, Berber, El Obeid and Toski had already proved, and now, even though we saw ourselves surrounded by hundreds of yelling "Veiled Men," who poured into us a withering fire from their long-barrelled guns, not a man among us was dismayed although many bit the dust ere reaching cover. That it must be a struggle to the death we knew, therefore, unable to mount, we obtained what protection we could among the few palm-trunks, and replied to the hail of bullets with careful precision, picking off a white-robed figure whenever one showed itself. Behind every rock or tree large enough to shelter a human form a veiled man lurked, and, well-practised in the use of fire-arms, they proved themselves superior shots. As far as we could discern in the gloom they outnumbered us by about ten to one, and their weapons, aimed deliberately at us from the security of the ambuscade, had already taken deadly effect. On every side white robes fluttered as rifles shed their weird red light, and ere long many of our men, stumbling forward, sank upon the sand and died with fierce curses upon their lips. Unable to approach our opponents sufficiently near to effectively use our long spears we continued our erratic fire, determined to make a stubborn stand until the end. During a quarter-of-an-hour this continued, when suddenly wild piercing yells sounded above the incessant rattle of musketry as, with one accord, about two hundred Tuaregs, their villainous faces encircled by their black veils, and standing in their stirrups, swept down upon us with a ringing shout of triumph. In a moment a fierce hand-to-hand struggle ensued, for horses and riders plunged upon our spears, and dozens of the desert pirates fell impaled, their burnouses dyed with blood. One man, tall and sinewy, his breast loaded with talismans, riding a magnificently-caparisoned horse, and evidently a sheikh, I held in the grip of death, and he fell by my hand. Indeed, so strenuous was our defence that, on glancing round, I felt half inclined to believe that the fierce onslaught would not be repeated; yet, almost before this thought had crossed my mind, another shrill war-cry resounded as an additional force on foot emerged from the dark clump of trees with burnouses flying, eyes blazing, and firing as they ran they rushed together upon us in such numbers as to prove absolutely overwhelming. With rifles held high above their heads, and yelling fiercely, they sped onward, driving us from our cover, and shooting us down, although we slashed, stabbed and hacked like very demons. Prodigies of strength and valour were performed by my comrades, the Dervishes, in their last defence. The struggle inflamed them, as it ever does men courageous by nature and born brave. They sold their lives dearly, but to effectually repulse the attack or to crave for quarter were alike futile. Alas, the soldiers of the Black Standard, who for years had fought long and fearlessly for the holy Mahdi and his successor, were now falling helpless victims to the cunning and rapidity with which the Tuaregs had delivered their terrible onslaught. Full of breathless anxiety were those fatal moments. Elated by their success and filled with a deadly hatred against us, our enemies were evidently determined to sweep us into eternity. The ground was encumbered with dead and dying. Several of my comrades, believing that the Jinns had deserted us, and therefore resistance was useless, threw down their arms, and falling on their knees, cried, in the name of the _One_ for their lives to be spared, but the Veiled Men of the Desert only jeered, and shot them down as ruthlessly as they would slaughter dogs, crying, "Kill the black-faced sons of offal! Let not one escape, or he will give warning unto the hosts of the accursed tyrant, the Khalifa. Kill the dogs! Kill them!" My comrades' death-wail uplifted, and, sharpened in soaring, hung in anguish at its height; then, like hope's expiring sigh, it faltered downward and fell mute. Escape was hopeless; we had fallen into an ambush. Our enemies had surrounded us by hundreds. Amid the shrieks, the firing, the fiendish, exultant cries of the victors and the fierce, hoarse curses of the dying, I fought on with spear and shield, unhorsing more than one of our deadly foes. My comrades were apparently all being ruthlessly slaughtered, when suddenly a gigantic son of the desert, lithe as a deer, black veiled, and sitting his white horse as if he were part of it, galloped straight towards me with a loud cry, his whirling blade flourishing in mid-air ready to match me, strength to strength. In a second my spear left my hand, and striking him full in the breast, felled him to earth a corpse, but ere I could draw breath, another piercing yell sounded behind me, and I felt a sharp twinge in the left shoulder. Then a horrible, choking sensation seized me, and I have a vague recollection of a man's dark face, hideously distorted by hatred, and with a black _rawani_, or shawl wrapped around it, within a few inches of mine, so near that I could feel his hot, foetid breath upon my cheek. A sudden darkness next instant fell upon me, and all consciousness became blotted out. Of events that immediately followed, or of how long I remained insensible I have no knowledge. Thoughts, strange and confused, grim and pleasant, incongruously mixed flitted through my unbalanced mind, but I had no idea of place, of time, of anything. A darkness, black and impenetrable, had obliterated my senses and held me powerless, until a sharp spasm of pain shot through my limbs, and then I recollected, in a half dreamy manner, that I had fallen in the desperate fight. I tried to repeat the first _sura_, but my lips, cold and clammy, refused to utter sound. The pain increased in intensity until my whole body became racked by a torture so acute and horrible that I believe I must have fainted. Many are the scars I had received in battle, but never had I experienced such suffering. Indeed, the pain was so intense that I felt myself writhing in terrible agony, while the perspiration stood in great beads upon my neck and brow, and the tightness in my chest held me, as in a vice, breathless, with all the horrible pangs of asphyxiation. An interval of senselessness was followed by a brief period of calm; then gradually, with a feeling that I was struggling hand-to-hand with Azrael, the dreaded Angel of Terrors, I slowly struggled back to consciousness. Blindly enduring, I suffered alternately torments of fire and of ice. Memories haunted me, vivid, voluptuous; scenes of a passionate past recurred. I stood in a magical Hall of Echoes, where every echo seemed the voice it mocked, and through some flaw in each illusion drove the shattering spear of truth. In the impenetrable darkness my fingers wandered involuntarily to seek the objects around. On either side I stretched forth my hands, but clutched at air. Faint sibilations, like the sound of hushed whispering fell upon my ear, and in that moment filled me with a strange fear. My resting-place seemed soft and comfortable, and as again my hands sought to discover something that would give me a clue to my whereabouts, my fingertips suddenly came into contact with embroidered satin. I could feel the raised pattern upon the smooth, glossy surface at my side, and became aware that I was not stretched upon the sand, where I had fallen, but upon a divan. I felt the cushion upon which my aching head was pillowed. It was also of satin, soft as down. The air seemed heavy with the sensuous intoxicating odour of attar of rose rising from a perfuming-pan--a subtle scent that still vibrates my memory--and as I touched the pillow I made a further discovery. Raising my hand to wipe my clammy brow, I became aware of the reason of my obscurity of vision. My forehead and eyes had been bandaged with a folded square of thick black silk. By frantic movement I endeavoured to tear away the tightly-bound fabric, but failed. It had been dexterously knotted, and no effort of mine could remove it. Again, with words of haste upon my lips, I tried to tear it from my eyes, but did not succeed, for when I tried to lift my left hand to my head I again experienced a spasm of pain that was excruciating. Suddenly I was conscious of the presence of someone near me, and a voice in low, soft, musical tones, scarcely above a whisper, exclaimed in the Hausa tongue,-- "_Barka, sanu sanu_." My acquaintance with this language of the people beyond Lake Tsad was very imperfect, but I nevertheless knew that the words gave me peace, and, being translated, were, "Allah, bless thee. Gently, gently." "Peace be upon thee, O unknown friend," I answered fervently, in Arabic. "Thou who hast given succour unto the wounded, I beseech of thee allow mine eyes to behold the mirror of thy face." "Of a verity thine eyes shall ere long witness things that, peradventure, will amaze thee," answered the low voice of the unknown, in tones in which severity and gentleness were strangely mingled. Soft hands deftly unloosed the double knots at the back of my head, the scarf was drawn away, and on eagerly opening my bewildered eyes they were dazzled by a strange flood of bright light that poured down upon them. Next second, however, my vision grew accustomed to the extraordinary brilliance, and the scene which met my wondering gaze was so strange and bewildering, so inexplicable and stupendous, so awe-inspiring yet entrancing, that, in sheer amazement, I slowly raised myself upon my arm and gazed aghast in stupefaction, fascinated, open-mouthed, petrified. CHAPTER THREE. AZALA. My transition had been remarkable; the sight that met my eyes was, indeed, sufficient to cause breathless wonderment. What time had elapsed since, in the darkness of night, I had fallen senseless beneath the palms of the oasis of Sabo-n-Gari, or by what means I had been rescued from the tortures of a lingering death by fever and thirst, I knew not. I had lapsed into unconsciousness at a moment when the last of my brave comrades had been slain, only to awaken and find myself stretched on a divan in a spacious apartment, the walls of which were richly hung with rose-coloured silk. The marble floor was half hidden by the profusion of rugs of beautifully blended hues, while around, near the arched roof, verses and good counsels from the Koran were written in Arabic characters, in long lean letters of gold. There were many dainty coffee-stools of inlaid silver and pearl, and a number of soft divans of gold-coloured silk. The place was windowless, but the sunlight, apparently reflected and intensified by mirrors, was admitted from the roof, and so directed that it fell in a golden bar across my face, presumably for the purpose of bringing me back to consciousness. At one end of this brilliant apartment was a door with horse-shoe arch, like all the others, leading to a little retreat, the gloom of which was, to me, impenetrable. In a corner, close to me, was a great gold perfuming-pan from which rose sweet odours in a column of thin blue smoke, while two gilded derboukas and a pair of slippers, cast aside upon one of the larger mats, showed that the occupants had indulged in those terpsichorean exercises in which Eastern women delight. Almost before I could realise the luxury of my surroundings, a soft, cool hand was laid upon my fevered brow, and, turning my head with difficulty, I suddenly beheld a vision of wondrous beauty. Over me there bent a fair face, so perfect in feature that I became entranced. The eyes, dark and large, expressive of the soul that lay behind, held me in fascination, and I gazed, tongue-tied, in amazement. She was young, not more than twenty, with a countenance white as those of the Englishwomen who come to Algiers at Ramadan; soft brown eyes denoting the mildest, tenderest nature, and a mouth sweetly pursed like the bud of a rose. Tendrils of soft, brown, wavy hair strayed across a fair forehead, hung heavily with strings of golden sequins, the centre of which was formed by a great oval pearl surrounded by diamonds, the finest my eyes had ever beheld, and in her ears were large, delicately-chased rings of gold. Her dress was the gorgeous costume of the harem: the tiny skullcap thickly embroidered with gold and seed pearls, set jauntily upon her head, the zouave of palest amaranth velvet, similarly embroidered, worn over a gauzy, low-necked vest, and the flimsy _serroual_ or trousers of pale pink China silk. Her white, delicately-moulded arms were bare, adorned by heavy _mesais_ of gold and jingling bangles set with gems, while her feet, likewise uncovered, were thrust into dainty little embroidered slippers of pale green velvet, her _redeefs_ being composed of single bands of curiously worked gold set with beautiful jacinths. Her necklets, of which she wore fully a dozen, were of various patterns, several being composed of strings of golden coins, or discs of gold thickly encrusted with rubies and turquoises, her oval perfume bottle, suspended at her breast, being conspicuous on account of the top being formed of a single emerald, while the diamonds set in the ornament itself were of amazing lustre. My mouth was parched, but she knelt beside me, and supporting me with her left arm, with her right held a goblet to my lips. How it came about I never knew, but before the draught was finished a change passed over me. Whether it was her soft touch, her strange and fawnlike loveliness, or the tender pity in her eyes matters not, the issue was the same; she struck some chord in my turbulent nature, and in a moment it was filled full with passion for her. I did not for a moment mistake the significance of the flood of feeling that surged through my veins. I have never shirked facts. "I thank thee," I said; "thine hand is kind." As she smiled upon me, moving slightly, her sequins tinkled, and the ray of sunlight, streaming full upon her, caused her jewels to flash and gleam with a thousand iridescent fires, producing an effect that was dazzling. Opening her lips she displayed an even set of beautiful pearly teeth, as she exclaimed, in the soft speech of my mother tongue,-- "Peace, O stranger. May the blessing of the One, whose name be exalted, rest eternally upon thee. Let not fear oppress thee; of a verity thou art with friends." "Mine eyes are bewildered, O One of Beauty, whose countenance is as the glorious light of day, and whose eyes are brilliant as stars in the desert. Upon thee be perfect peace and the fervent blessings of one who hath approached near unto Certainty," I answered with difficulty. Then, as I raised my hand and it came into contact with bandages about my shoulder, I added "The darkness of unconsciousness hath long obscured my mind, and I know not under whose roof I rest. Allah hath been gracious unto me. Verily, He bestoweth abundant provision on such of His servants as He pleaseth." "Yea, O stranger," she answered, piously. "Everything shall perish except Himself; unto Him belongeth judgment. Accursed be those who struck thee down, for Allah, Gracious Bestower of abundant benefits, knoweth both the secret malice which their breasts conceal and the open hatred which they discover." In a fit of renewed weakness, brought about by the turmoil of my blood, I lay back upon the silken pillows watching her face. It almost seemed as though something of what was passing in my mind communicated itself to her. "Knowest thou mine enemies?" I asked, raising myself, and, to my astonishment, discovering, for the first time, that the loose garments I wore were of finest silk, and that I was veiled and disguised as a woman. "I know that thou wouldst kill me," she answered briefly, with a curious smile, standing before me with hands behind her back, a veritable houri. "Kill thee! Why?" "Because thou art a soldier of the great Khalifa of Omdurman, enemy of my people, and Ruler of the Soudan." "What name bearest thou?" I asked. "I am called Azala Fathma." "Daughter of whom?" "Daughter of 'Othman, Sultan of Sokoto." "Thou--Princess of Sokoto!" I gasped, struggling slowly and with difficulty to my feet, scarcely believing my ears. "Where, then, have I taken mine ease?" "For three days past hast thou been concealed here, in the harem of thine enemy," she answered, in low, placid tones, looking seriously at me. Then, noticing the uneasy glance I cast in the direction of the dark alcove beyond, she added quickly, "Let not apprehension fall upon thee. To this my apartment none dares enter unbidden, therefore thou art safe, even in the midst of those whom thou didst seek to destroy." "Chastise me not with a scourge of words, O Daughter of the Sultan," I said, apologetically. "Thy servant Zafar-Ben-A'Ziz, Arab of the Chawi, horseman of the Khalifa, armeth not himself against those who give him succour, nor seeketh he the overthrow of the city of thy father." Leaning gracefully, with her back against the twisted column of polished marble, inlaid with gold, supporting the arched roof, she clasped her hands behind her handsome head and gazed at me. Then, half reproachfully she said,-- "Whoso doth that which is right, doth it to the advantage of his own soul; and whoso doth evil, doth it against the same: hereafter shall we return unto Allah. Thou earnest with scouts to reconnoitre--perchance to enter this our city singly or in company--so that on the advance of the ruthless legions of thy Sultan thou mightest, by treachery, admit them within our walls. But Allah, who hath placed the twelve signs in the heavens, is merciful and knoweth the hearts of men. Thine encampment was discovered and destroyed." "How was my life spared?" I asked. "I was present when thou wert forced to bite the dust," she explained. "I had journeyed unto Katsena, where I had lingered one moon, and was returning hither to Kano when my Tuareg guards, warned of thine approach, watched thee by stealth, and in the darkness fell upon thee at a moment when thou wert unprepared. On the rising of the sun I searched the spot, and found that thou alone still lived. Secretly thou wert attired in the haick belonging to one of my handmaidens, and by my orders conveyed hither in a _jakfi_ on one of mine own camels. Still dressed as a female slave thou wert able to pass the guards of the outer courts and of the harem, to rest and recover on mine own divan." "Then to thee, O Azala, Princess of Sokoto, whose beauty is peerless, I owe my life," I answered, fervently. "Truly hast thou snatched me back from the grave, even though I sought to assist in the sacking of this, the palace of thy father, and in the holding of thy people in bondage. Tell me, why shouldst thou interest thyself in my well-being?" Hesitating, apparently confused at my question, Azala moved uneasily, toying with the silken fringe of her broad girdle. "Is it not written that we should bear no malice?" she answered, after a pause. "Al-Sijil registereth our deeds." "Wisdom falleth from thy lips," I said, smiling. "But hadst thou no motive in bringing me into this thine apartment, even at the imminent risk of detection and disgrace?" "I am not compelled to answer thy question," she replied, with a forced laugh. "Reason underlyeth most of our actions." "And wilt thou not explain thy reason?" "No. At present my lips must remain sealed," she answered calmly, her bejewelled breast heaving and falling in a long-drawn sigh. "Peradventure thou mayest learn my motive some day; then will thine eyes open in astonishment, for thou wilt gain knowledge of things undreamed of and behold marvels amazing." "Thou speakest in enigmas. When may these secrets be revealed unto me? Of what character are they?" "Seek not to unloosen my tongue's strings, O mine enemy--" "Nay, not enemy, friend, grateful and ever devoted," I interrupted. "Then, if thou art my friend seek not to discover mine innermost thoughts," she said, earnestly. "As the wicked are in Sajin, beneath the seventh heaven, where dwelleth Eblis and his host, so assuredly will those who seek to discover the hidden marvels without mine aid or sanction taste of the bitter fruit of Al-Zakkum." "But if thou givest unto me a pledge that thou wilt render explanation, I will be content," I said. "Not only will I, when the time is ripe, explain the strange secret unto thee, but, likewise, shall I seek thine assistance in elucidating a strange and incomprehensible mystery." "I am thine to command," I answered gallantly, taking her slim, white hand in mine. "When thou desireth me to serve thee, O Azala, thou wilt find me ever ready, for to thee I owe my life; my future is in thine hands." "To seek the key of the hidden mystery, to vanquish the angel Malec who hath charge of the gates of hell, will require a stout heart and lion's courage," she said slowly, fixing her clear, wonderful eyes upon mine, and allowing her soft bejewelled hand to linger for a second within my grasp. "When the day dawneth thou wilt not find me wanting in defiance of danger, for, of a verity, I fear nothing with the beauteous daughter of the Sultan 'Othman as my pole-star." For a second a blush suffused her pale cheeks. "As thou trusteth me, so also will I trust thee," she said, in deep earnestness. "Even though my position is exalted as Princess of Sokoto; even though I am surrounded by all that is beautiful, with many slaves to do my bidding, yet unhappiness eateth like a canker-worm into my heart." "Wherefore art thou unhappy?" I asked, sympathetically. "Ah! the reason none may know," she sighed. "Until I call upon thee to render thine aid in seeking to discover things that are forbidden, thou must necessarily remain in the outer darkness of ignorance. Here, in the palace of my father, thou must remain in hiding until the time for action cometh. Then will I show thee that which will fascinate and astound thee." "Thy words of mystery arouse curiosity within me," I said. "Canst thou not reveal to me anything now?" "Nothing. Save to tell thee that thou canst, if thou wilt, shield me from a fate worse than death. A disaster, horrible and complete, threateneth to overwhelm me, and thou alone canst prevent it." "How?" "By patience, silence, and passive obedience to my commands." "I am thine," I said, as, entranced by her marvellous grace and beauty, my arm slowly encircled her slim waist, begirt with dull gold and flashing jewels. I strove to draw her to me, but without any violence of movement, and with the most perfect dignity, she disengaged herself from my embrace. Yet I held her to me and breathed into her ear words of devotion. Then, as her beautiful head at last turned slowly toward me, and her eyes, looking into mine, spoke mutely of reciprocated affection, our lips met in a hot, passionate caress. I was trembling upon the pinnacle of Al-Araf, that partition that divides pleasure from misery, love from hatred, hell from paradise. She was the proud and handsome daughter of the Sultan 'Othman, the woman, the fame of whose exquisite beauty had long ago reached us even in far-off Omdurman; I, a mere Dervish, without home or property, one of a band paid by the all-powerful Khalifa to plunder, murder and destroy. What words of tenderness I uttered I scarcely remember. The sensuous fragrance, rising from the perfuming-pan, seemed to induce a sweet, dreamy half-consciousness, but for the first time I experienced the passion of love. I loved her with all the strength of my being, and the only words that impressed themselves upon me in those moments of mad infatuation were those uttered by the woman I adored,-- "Yea, O Zafar, I will place my trust in thee." Resting in my embrace, her bright eyes betrayed her perfect happiness, and as I softly stroked her silky hair and implanted a kiss upon her white, sequin-covered brow she clung to me with her long bare arms clasped tightly around my neck in an ecstasy of joy. "Never will I forsake thee," I answered, fondly. "With the faithfulness and obedience of a slave will I carry out thy commands, for thou art my queen and I thy devoted bondman." Tears dimmed her bright, clear eyes; tears of joy she vainly strove to suppress. "Truly to-day is the dawn of my life's happiness," she said, in a low tone, full of emotion. "To-day Allah hath sent me a friend." "And, on my part, I pledge myself unto thee with unswerving devotion," I exclaimed, fervently. "In veiled words hast thou spoken of certain solemn secrets. When thou explainest to me my task of elucidation, assuredly wilt thou find me ready and eager to undertake it. In thine hands thou holdest my future, for life or death." "Upon those who seek to come between us may the wrath of the One Granter of Requests fall like an avenging fire; may they find no patron nor defender, nor may they rest beneath the shadow of the lote-tree," she said. "It is written in the Book of Everlasting Will that Allah, who knoweth all things, joineth man and woman with his bounteous blessing. Therefore may the rose-grove of thy prosperity and good fortune be increased daily in freshness and magnificence, and in what difficulty thou mayest be placed, or into what evil thou mayest peradventure, fall, bear in thy mind my declaration of love, and remember always that, even though deserts of great space and rapid waters may separate us, I am thine and thou art mine alone. I trust to thee to break asunder the invisible bonds that fetter me unto misery." "But surely we shall not be parted," I exclaimed, the mere suggestion being intolerable. "Neither sultans nor their kin are capable of ruling events," she said. "Of what the future may have in store none knoweth but the sorceresses and the wise women, who, alas! holdeth their knowledge to themselves." "True, O Azala, my enchantress. In like manner wilt thou remember always, if we part, that I shall be striving to return unto thee; that the one object of my life henceforward is to break asunder the mysterious fetters of thine unhappiness." Our hands clasped. She looked straight into my eyes. Hers was no dreamy nature. With her, to resolve was but a preliminary of to execute. No physiognomist would need to have been told that this beautiful woman, so quick in intelligence, so kind in manner, so buoyant and joyous in disposition, was at the same time, in force of character and determination, as firm as adamant. "And thou wilt not fail to render me assistance in the hour of my need?" she exclaimed. "May Allah bear witness that I am prepared to strive towards the elucidation of thy mystery while I have breath." Pressing my hand with lingering tenderness, she said,-- "Thy words give peace unto me, O Zafar. Henceforth shall I rest in the knowledge that the man who is my friend is prepared to risk his life on my behalf." "Yea," I answered; adding, "of a verity this meeting between enemies hath been a strange one. Hast thou not warned thy father of the approach of the hosts of the Khalifa?" "Even on the same night as thine encampment was destroyed warning was conveyed unto him, with the result that our troops have been sent forward into the desert with the object of checking the advance of thy tribesmen." "They are not my clansmen," I answered, quickly. "I am an Arab, a native of the Aures, the mountains far north beyond the Great Desert." "Then thou art not a Dervish?" she exclaimed, gladly. "No," I answered, and at the same moment remembering that the Khalifa's troops numbered many thousands, and that it was scarcely likely that they would be turned aside in their onward march by a few squadrons of the Sultan of Sokoto, I asked,-- "Have the horsemen of the Black Standard been routed?" "I know not. Yesterday I overheard the messengers delivering their report to the Sultan in the Hall of Audience," she replied. "But if they are still advancing! Think what terrible fate awaiteth thee if the soldiers of the Khalifa loot this thy beautiful palace, and spread death and desolation through thy city with fire and sword!" "Arrangements have already been made for my secret escape. In case of danger I shall assume thy garments, arms and shield, which I have preserved, and pass as a Dervish." "Excellent," I said, laughing at her ingenuity. "But let us hope that my comrades will never gain these walls. If they do, it will, alas! be an evil day for Kano." "The detection and slaughter of thy scouts placed our army upon its guard," she said. "Already the defences of our city have been strengthened, and every man is under arms. If the Dervishes attack us, of a verity will they meet with an opposition long and strenuous, for by our fighting men the walls of Kano are believed to be impregnable. See!" she added, drawing aside a portion of the silken hangings close to her, and disclosing a small window covered with a quaintly-worked wooden lattice. "Yonder our men are watching. Our principal city gate, the Kofa-n-Dakaina, is strongly guarded by night and day." CHAPTER FOUR. THE MARK OF THE ASPS. Stepping to the window, I found that the apartment in which we stood was evidently situated in a tower of the palace--which I had heard was built high on Mount Dala--for the great city, with its white, flat-roofed houses and cupolas, and minarets of mosques, lay stretched beneath us. At the massive gate, in the high frowning walls which surrounded the extensive and wealthy capital of the Empire of Sokoto, the far-famed _entrepot_ of Central Africa, soldiers, attired in bright uniforms of blue and gold, swarmed like flies, while cannon bristled on the walls, and everywhere spears and arms glittered in the sun. She pointed out the Jakara, a wide, deep lake, the great Slave Market crowded with buyers, sellers and human merchandise, the Palace of Ghaladima and the Kofa Mazuger. The city was agog, for the hum of life rose from its crowded streets and busy market-places, mingling now and then with the ominous roll of the war-drums, the twanging of _ginkris_, the clashing of cymbals, and the shouts of the eager, ever-watchful troops. By the cloudless, milk-white sky I knew it was about noon, and the sun directly overhead poured down mercilessly upon the immense sandy plain which stretched away eastward and northward until it was lost in the misty haze of the distant horizon. Date palms rose in small clusters near the ornamental lake in the centre of the city; in the square spreading _alleluba-trees_ cast their welcome shade, and beautiful _gotuias_ unfolded their large, featherlike leaves above slender and undivided stems, but beyond the city walls there was not a tree, not a blade of grass, not a living thing. Out there all was sun, sand and silence. "Dost thou reside here always?" I asked, as together we gazed down upon the great white city. "Yes. Seldom are we in Sokoto itself, for of later years its prosperity hath declined, and the palace is of meagre proportions; indeed, it is now half ruined and almost deserted. The wealth and industry of the empire is centred here in Kano, for our trade extendeth as far north as Mourkouk, Ghat, and even Tripoli; to the west, not only to Timbuktu, but even to the shores of the great sea; to the east, all over Bornu; and to the south, among the Igbira, the Igbo, and among the pagans and ivory hunters of the Congo." "True," I said, gazing round upon the prosperous capital of one of the most interesting empires in the world. "It is scarcely surprising that my ambitious lord, the Khalifa, should desire to annex the land of the Sultan 'Othman. Even our own cities of Omdurman or Khartoum are not of such extent. How many persons inhabit this, thy palace?" "In this, the Great Fada, nearly three thousand men and women reside. In the harem alone are four hundred women and six hundred slaves and eunuchs, while the Imperial bodyguard numbers nearly a thousand." Glancing below, I saw the palace was enclosed by white walls as high and strong as the outer fortifications. It was built within the great Kasba or fortress, a veritable city within a city. Turning, our eyes met, and pointing to the distant, sun-baked wilderness, I exclaimed,-- "Away there, the vultures would already have stripped my bones hadst thou not taken compassion upon me." "Speak not again of that," she answered. "Thou wert the only man in whose body the spark of life still burned. It was my duty to rescue thee," she replied, rather evasively. "Now that we understand and trust each other, now indeed, that we are friends true and faithful, wilt thou not tell me why thou didst convey me hither unto thine apartment?" She hesitated, gazing away towards the misty line where sky and desert joined, until suddenly she turned, and looking boldly into my face with her clear, trusting eyes, answered,-- "It was in consequence of something that was revealed." "By whom?" "By thee." "What revelation have I made?" I asked, sorely puzzled. She held her breath, her fingers twitched with nervous excitement, and the colour left her cheeks. She seemed striving to preserve some strange secret, yet, at the same time, half inclined to render me the explanation I sought. "The astounding truth became unveiled unconsciously," she said. "My mind faileth to follow the meanderings of thy words," I said. "What truth?" "Behold!" she cried, and hitching the slim fingers of both her hands in the bodice of cream flimsy silk she wore beneath her zouave, she tore it asunder disclosing, not without a blush of modesty, her white chest. "Behold!" she cried, hoarsely. "What dost thou recognise?" With both her hands she held the torn garment apart, and, as she did so, my eyes became riveted in abject amazement. Bending, I examined it closely, assuring myself that I was not dreaming. "Hast thou never seen its counterpart?" she asked, panting breathlessly. "Yea," I answered, with bated breath. "Of a verity the coincidence astoundeth me." The sight caused me to marvel greatly; I was bewildered, for it conjured up a thought that was horrible. In the exact centre of her delicate chest, immediately above her heaving bosom, was a strange, dark red mark of curious shape, deeply branded into the white flesh, as if at some time or other it had been seared by a red-hot iron. The paleness of the flesh and the firm contour of her bosom rendered the indelible mark the more hideous, but its position and its shape dumbfounded me. The strange blemish constituted an inexplicable mystery. It was unaccountable, incredible. I stood agape, staring at it with wide-open, wondering eyes, convinced that its discovery was precursory of revelations startling and undreamed of. The mark, about the length of the little finger, and perfectly defined, was shaped to represent two serpents with heads facing each other, their writhing bodies intertwined in double curves. In itself this mystic brand was hideous enough, but to me it had a significance deeper and more amazing, for in the centre of my own chest I bore a mark exactly identical in every detail! For years; nay, ever since I had known myself, the red scar, not so noticeable upon my brown, sun-tanned skin as upon Azala's pale, delicate breast, had been one of the mysteries of my life. Vividly I remembered how, in my early youth, in far El-Manaa I had sought an explanation of my parents, but they would never vouchsafe any satisfactory reply. On what occasion, or for what purpose the mysterious brand had been placed upon me I knew not. Vaguely I believed that it had been impressed as a means of identification at my birth, and until this moment had been fully convinced that I alone bore the strangely-shaped device. Judge, then, my abject astonishment to find a similar mark, evidently impressed by the identical seal, upon the breast of the woman who had thus exerted her ingenuity to save my life--the woman whose grace and marvellous beauty had captivated me, the woman who had admitted that she reciprocated my affection. In that brief moment I remembered well the strange, ambiguous reply that my mother had given me when, as a lad, my natural curiosity had been aroused,-- "Sufficient for thee to know that the Mark of the Asps is upon thee, O my son. Seek not to discover its significance until thou meetest with its exact counterpart. Then strive night and day to learn the truth, for if thou canst elucidate the mystery, thine ears will listen to strange things, and thine eyes will behold wondrous and undreamed-of marvels." Since then, twenty long years had elapsed, and I had wandered far and near, in England, in France, in Algeria and across the Great Desert. Both my parents had died with the strange secret still locked in their hearts, for by no amount of ingenious questioning could I succeed in unloosing their tongues. Now, however, my mother's prophetic utterance and counsel, spoken in our white house on the green hill-side, came back vividly to my memory, and I gazed in silence at Azala full of apprehensive thoughts. My mother had more than once assured me that she knew not its meaning, and that, although she had sought explanation of my father, he had refused to reveal to her more than she had told me, and he, too, had died with the secret resolutely preserved. But the exact counterpart of the brand burnt into my own flesh was now before me. What could be the significance of the two asps? how, indeed, came the daughter of the great Sultan 'Othman, whom none dare approach, to be disfigured the same as myself, a free-booter of the Khalifa, a Dervish and an outcast? "How earnest thou to bear the brand of the serpents?" I asked, when again I found speech. "An identical mark is upon my own breast also." But ere she could answer my inquiry a stealthy movement behind startled us, and as I turned, two gigantic black eunuchs sprang upon me, while two others appeared from behind the rose silk hangings. "Behold!" cried a man, whom I knew by his gorgeous dress to be the Aga of the Eunuchs. "It is a man, not a woman! The slave hath not lied. Seize him!" "May Allah show thee mercy!" gasped Azala, pale and trembling, with clasped hands. "We are betrayed!" I struggled and fought with all the strength I possessed, but my brutal captors bore me down, and in their sinewy hands I was in a moment helpless as a babe. Then I knew that Azala was, alas! lost to me. Romance, hope, passion, one by one, dropped, emberlike, into the ashes. CHAPTER FIVE. THE BLACK EUNUCH. Azala, with blanched face and clasped hands uplifted in supplication, sank upon her knees before the gigantic Chief of the Black Eunuchs, whom she addressed as Khazneh, beseeching him with arguments, persuasive, forcible and passionate, to spare my life. "All blame be upon my head!" she cried, in earnest appeal. "He fell wounded at the fight of Sabo-n-Gari, and I tended him and brought him hither. Spare him! Let not the keen arrow of sorrow enter the soul of the daughter of thy Master, the Sultan." "Thy servant hath already received his orders," the high and potent official replied with imperturbable coolness, resting his hand on the bejewelled hilt of his great scimitar, looking down at her upturned and agitated countenance. "From whom?" "From my Imperial Master, thine august father." "May the curse of Eblis rest upon our betrayer!" she cried, with a quick setting of her mouth. "The stranger hath done no harm, but by me, it seemeth, he hath been brought unto his doom." "He is thy lover. Thou wert suspected two days ago," the eunuch answered gruffly, standing statuesque and immovable while my captors held me, apparently reluctant to move, because they desired to overhear the argument between the beautiful Azala and their master. "I deny thine accusation," she replied, rising to her feet quite calmly. "Thou, Khazneh, who art powerful here in the harem, shall learn a lesson in politeness thou wilt not easily forget. Lies and insults may fall from thy lips, but they neither injure nor distress the daughter of thy Master, 'Othman." "Silence, woman!" he cried fiercely, shaking his fat fist in the face of the trembling, indignant girl, and showing his white teeth. "Thinkest thou that thou canst save a man whom thou bringest unto thine apartment in secrecy, dressed in woman's garments?" "If thou darest remove him hence I will appeal in person unto my father." "Already his Majesty hath full knowledge of this affair," the great negro eunuch answered, treating her threat with calm indifference. "By his order a watch hath been placed upon thee. We saw the accursed son of offal caress and kiss thee." "May Allah cut out thy heart! Am I a slave, that spies should be set to report upon my doings?" she asked, her eyes flashing with indignation. Then, turning to the negroes who held me in iron grip, she said, "I, Azala Fathma, Princess of Sokoto, order ye to release him." "And I, Khazneh, Aga of the Eunuchs, order ye to remove him hence. He is a Dervish from Omdurman, a traitor, and an enemy of thy Sultan. Away with him!" cried the black-faced man with big, blood-shot eyes. His gaze was ever on Azala, unless it were fixed on me with a sullen gleam of hate. But she rushed across to the heavy silken curtain that hid the secret door, and, standing boldly before it, uplifted her long, white arm, and pointing to the towering eunuch, cried,-- "Zafar-Ben-A'Ziz, whom I have long known by report, is not an enemy, but a firm friend of his Majesty, whose despicable slave thou art. Therefore I forbid thee to lay hands upon him. Even though thou findest him here in the place forbidden; nevertheless, I, as Princess of Sokoto, claim for him the protection of the Sultan." In silence, unable to extricate myself, I stood while my fate was thus discussed. A spasm wrenched my soul--one of those agonies which leave their trace, mental or physical, forever. "Knowest thou not the punishment meted out to those who dare to pass the Janissaries and tread the sacred courts of the harem?" asked the Aga, impatiently. "The punishment is death," she answered. Her thin nostrils palpitated. She crushed her finger-nails against the jewels on her bosom. "But if Zafar, my friend, suffereth the penalty, I warn thee that thine head shall be struck off and thy body be given to the dogs as offal before the going down of the sun." "Be it so," laughed the hulking brute, insolently, his fingers playing with the long, keen _jambiyah_ in his belt. Then, turning to my captors, he said, "Come, away with him quickly." Next second the hangings were raised, disclosing an open door, through which I was unceremoniously hurried, and as I was dragged out into the dark, inter-mural passage, I heard the Aga of the Eunuchs exclaim tauntingly,-- "Seek his Majesty if thou wilt, but I may tell thee that he set out for Katsena at sunrise, and ere his return thy lover's bones will lie bleaching in the sun." "Farewell, Azala," I shouted. "Be thou of good cheer. Remember that in my heart the tree of affection hath struck root. I am thy friend always--always--even though our enemies may thus part us." "We will never part," she cried, rushing across to me; but the Aga, catching her roughly by the arm, dragged her away by sheer brute force. "Whither he goeth there also will I go," she gasped, struggling to elude his grasp, overturning one of the little mother-of-pearl coffee stools in her frantic efforts to reach and embrace me. "Tarry no longer," cried Khazneh, in anger, addressing my captors. "Let the Sultan's will be obeyed." "Farewell, Azala! Farewell," I cried, paralysed with fury as I saw her bow her head upon her arms and weep. But she answered not, for, as I was dragged fiercely from her sight, I saw her struggling with the chief eunuch, endeavouring to follow us. With brutal disregard of her sex, the big, gaudily-attired brute had seized her by the throat. Her dress was torn, her hair dishevelled, and her jewels lay scattered and trodden under foot. Suddenly a scream sounded, dull and muffled, and, just as I was dragged away into the dark passage, I witnessed the woman who had entranced me hurled backward. I saw her reel, stagger, and fall senseless upon her divan. The grinning negroes who held me laughed aloud, and hurried me along the short, close passage, and down flight after flight of broken, time-worn steps, while Khazneh, closing the small, heavy door, barred and bolted it securely. Then he followed us, biting his finger-nails in deep thought. Whither they were conducting me I knew not, neither did I care. Azala and I had, by the treachery of some unknown slave, been torn asunder, perhaps never again to meet. Only death would, I knew, expiate the crime of being found in disguise in the Sultan's harem, and towards the bourne whence none return was I being conveyed. My anticipations of immediate death were not, however, realised. Deep down into the foundations of the ancient palace the eunuchs conducted me, along a labyrinth of gloomy passages that showed the great extent of the Fada, until we came to a long, subterranean corridor where, on entering, I saw, behind iron bars, the lean, emaciated figure of a man, haggard, unkempt, with the gleam of madness in his eyes. Shaking the bars wildly with the strength of a wild beast, he cried as we passed,-- "Strangers! Have compassion. Have pity. In the name of Allah, who both heareth and knoweth, remove these fetters which for fourteen long years have held me captive." "_Na'al abuk_!" (Curse thy father) growled Khazneh, lifting his trailing scimitar in its scabbard and striking the wretched prisoner a heavy blow as he passed. But the man tearing at the bars shrieked and howled in his madness,-- "May the venom of vipers consume thy vitals, and may the kisses of thy women poison thee, thou black-faced son of offal! I recognise thee, thou fiend. Thou art the Aga of the Eunuchs; the incarnation of Eblis himself. May thy body be cast upon a dungheap and thy soul be delivered unto the tortures of Al-Hawiyat!" Leaving the wretched man hurling his horrible imprecations, we passed onward along the dark corridor of filthy dens, each protected with strong bars of iron, several being occupied by men, lean, wild-haired and half-clad, who looked more like animals than human beings crouching on their heaps of dirty, mouldy straw. No sunlight ever penetrated there, and the only air or light admitted entered between the crevices of the massive paving stones of the court above. The walls of this Dantean dungeon were black with damp and age, the floor was encrusted with all kinds of filth, and the air was hot, foetid, and so overpowering that Khazneh himself was compelled to take the corner of his silken robe and hold it to his nostrils. At length, however, on arrival at the further end of the passage, a small door with an iron grating swung open and I was thrust in and there left, the door being immediately closed and secured. In the almost impenetrable darkness I could distinguish nothing, but when I heard the footsteps of my captors receding, my heart sank within me. Noises sounded weirdly in the cavernous blackness; the groans, curses and prayers of my fellow-prisoners. Who were these emaciated, half-starved wretches? What, I wondered, had been their crimes? CHAPTER SIX. RAGE AND REMORSE. With my feet upon the heap of dirty, evil-smelling straw, I stood hesitating how to act. Of the size or character of my cell I knew nothing; therefore, after reviewing the situation as calmly as I could, I started to feel the walls and ascertain their exact proportions. The place, I found, was small, horribly small. Its height was only just sufficient to allow me to stand upright, while it was not long enough to allow me to lie down except in a crouching, uncomfortable position, its breadth being just two paces. When, after making myself acquainted with these details, I stood reflecting upon my position, I heard a slight movement in the straw at my feet, and as I bent to ascertain the cause my hand came into contact with the chill, smooth body of a large snake which I had evidently disturbed. Its contact thrilled me. I drew my hand away in horror, springing back towards the wall, expecting each moment to feel my leg bitten. Straining my eyes into the darkness I did my utmost to discover the whereabouts of the reptile, believing that if it had its bead-like eyes fixed upon me I could detect their brightness. But though I heard a slow rustling among the straw, my enemy seemed in no mood for attack, and I waited motionless, not daring to stir. To be doomed to live and sleep in company of a snake was certainly one of the most hideous tortures to which a man could be subjected, and was a refinement of cruelty equal to any of the revolting barbarities I had witnessed while serving under the standards of the Mahdi and the Khalifa. But the hours dragged on, and although my fellow occupant of the cell remained silent, apparently content, the dungeon itself was weirdly horrible. The cries of my fellow captives, some of whom were perfectly sane and others palpably mad from torture and long confinement, resounded through the place with startling suddenness, and I could hear those whose minds were unhinged gnashing their teeth and beating their bars in vain, frantic effort to obtain release. With these horrors about me, the whole of my past seamed to flit through my mind--a panorama of wild free life and exciting adventure. My sudden unconsciousness after my fall at the well of Sabo-n-Gari, my strange awakening, and the vision of incomparable beauty that had risen before my wondering, fevered eyes, all recurred to me in hazy indistinctness, like some weird, half-remembered dream. But the pale, anxious face of Azala, who had fought so hard to save me falling into the merciless clutches of my pitiless captors, came before me--vivid, distinct, entrancing. Her every feature was engraven indelibly upon my memory, and her voice seemed to repeat in soft, musical Arabic those strange, mysterious words that had thrilled and entranced me. She trusted me, she had said. Would she, I wondered, be successful in releasing me from this horribly maddening captivity? That she would use every endeavour of which she was capable I was confident; nevertheless, I knew well the enormity of my crime, and feared that even her earnest words would not soften the flint heart of the relentless Sultan 'Othman, whose every whim was law within his own extensive kingdom. Well I knew the manner of living of this dreaded ruler of the Western Soudan. He formed the etiquette of his brilliant court upon that of the Khalifa's, keeping himself strictly invisible to the vulgar gaze. He seldom exposed himself to perish of the evil eye. It was he who compelled the women throughout his empire to lead the life of the Eastern harem, and forbade that any (married or single) should show themselves unveiled, making his own family set the example. People approaching the Sultan in audience covered their heads with dust: he never spoke directly to assemblies nor to the people, but always dealt with them through the medium of a herald. Upon the occasions of his going out, his _cortege_ was preceded by musicians, drums, and trumpets, and he rode in solitary state, with his suite at a respectable distance behind. Servants marched surrounding his horse, and holding by turns to his saddle; they were called foot companions, and their head-man was the "master of the road." Only one drum was allowed to precede them, and musicians kept silent when in sight of a town in which the Sultan was residing. She had spoken of strange marvels, of hidden mysteries that require elucidation, of perils, and of her own misery. Why had unhappiness consumed her? Why, indeed, had she concealed so much from me? For hours I pondered over the veiled words she had uttered, seeking in them some explanation, but finding none. Then I remembered the hideous blemish upon her fair breast--that mystic mark exactly identical with mine. What, I wondered, could these entwined asps denote? The words of my dead mother rang in my ears: "Seek not to discover its significance until thou meetest with its exact counterpart. Then strive night and day to learn the truth, for, if thou canst elucidate the mystery, thine ears will listen unto strange things, and thine eyes behold wondrous marvels." Upon the breast of Azala, the Princess, I had discovered that which I had sought throughout my eventful life, yet even in that moment evil fortune had befallen me, and now, instead of being free to strive towards solving the enigma, I was held captive in that dismal, evil-smelling dungeon, under sentence of death. Days dragged by--dull, dismal, dispiriting. Suffering the anguish of separation and lost happiness, my whole life seemed wounded. In the dark, damp cell, surrounded by a thousand horrors, oppressed by a thousand vague regrets and bitter thoughts, I awaited the end. Indeed, as the long hours slowly passed, it surprised me that my captors did not drag me forth to die. Once a day three negro guards, heavily armed, appeared and cast to us a little _dodowa_, or kind of cake made of vegetables, with as little ceremony as if they were giving food to dogs, while a slave filled our earthen vessel with water; but we had no exercise, and were compelled to remain behind our bars like animals entrapped. My cell had been occupied quite recently by some poor wretch, who, according to the story of a half-starved Arab in captivity near me, had died of fever only a few days before my arrival, and with whom the serpent who made his abode there had apparently been on friendly terms. At first both the reptile and myself were consumed by a mutual fear of one another, but on close acquaintanceship he grew to regard me as harmless, and really performed me a service by clearing the mice and other vermin from my narrow, suffocating den. Once a loud, piercing shriek escaped one of my half-demented fellow captives, who declared he had been bitten by a scorpion, and, to my dismay, the same reptile found its way through the bars of my cell some hours later, but fortunately I detected it in time, driving it out before it could attack me. Hour by hour, day by day, I crouched, disconsolate and despairing, in the almost impenetrable gloom. Accustomed as I was to the wild life of the plains, confinement amid such loathsome surroundings was doubly irksome and nauseating. In that Stygian darkness day was like night, and I could keep no count of time; but with the harsh gibberings of idiots always grating on my ears, I grew apprehensive that ere long I, too, must become demented. My respite from death I attributed to the intervention of the fair woman whose wondrous beauty had enmeshed me, and whose words of mystery had aroused in me an intense, unconquerable desire to solve the one great enigma of my life. Yet as time went on and relief came not, I began to fear that the eunuch had spoken the truth when he informed Azala of the Sultan's absence, and that, fearing to order me to execution, Khazneh had resolved that I should be driven to madness in that foul, foetid dungeon, where so many captives had pined and died. Many times I had heard how the great Sultan 'Othman was ruled almost entirely by harem influence; how the bright-eyed, imperious Sultana of to-day might be a mangled corpse torn to pieces by the yelping jackals at the city-gate to-morrow; how a single word whispered by a dark-haired houri into the ear of her lord might either cause a courtier's head to fall, or secure for some menial an exalted office of power, with many slaves and fat emoluments. Indeed, it was notorious throughout the Soudan that in the great Fada of the Sultan of Sokoto none was safe. Wives, courtiers, guards, eunuchs, slaves, all trembled, fearing to arouse the anger of the brutal autocrat, for well were they aware that the keen _doka_ of the black executioner was kept ever busy, and none knew whose head next might fall. Black plots and dastardly intrigues were constantly at work within the great Courts of the Harem. The favourite, one day loaded with costly jewels, basking in the smiles of her august master, radiant upon her divan and ruler of the gilded Courts of Enchantment, would assuredly sooner or later fall a victim to the jealousy of her less fortunate sisters, and be compelled to wash the feet of the bright-eyed slave her whilom handmaiden, become the wife of some common soldier, or drink the fatal draught from the golden Cup of Death. Yet amid such surroundings, continually witnessing the complicated plots and counter-plots engendered by the fiercest feminine hatred, with unceremonious strangling, poisoning or decapitation as the inevitable result, lived Azala, pure as the jasmine-flower, bright as the sunrise on the Great Desert, graceful as the rose bending beneath the evening zephyr, a maiden of absolutely incomparable countenance and entrancing loveliness. For nearly a whole moon had I remained in my foul, dank kennel, when one morning four gaudily-attired Janissaries released me, and, without deigning to reply to my eager questions, conducted me out of the dungeon and up the worn and broken flight of stairs to the blessed light of day. So long had I been in darkness that the sun's glare blinded me, and keenly apprehensive that Azala's efforts had been unavailing, and that I was at last being led to execution, I walked on between my guards, inert, dejected and despairing. A dozen Janissaries, each armed with gleaming scimitar and _jambiyah_, joined us, as across one great open courtyard after another was I conducted in procession solemn and funereal. The magnitude and magnificence of those squares, with great plashing fountains, tall palms and colonnades of dead-white horse-shoe arches, astounded me. Evidently they were the outer courts of the palace, for at each gate there stood Janissaries in uniforms of blue and gold, with drawn swords, erect, silent, statuesque. Leaving the Courts of Love, the innermost centre of the great Fada, we crossed the Court of the Grand Vizier, the Court of the Gado (Lord of the Treasury), the Court of the Eunuchs, the Court of the Janissaries, the Court of the Armourers and many others, each larger and more massive in construction, until at length we came to the great, arched outer gate, the only entrance to this sumptuous and gigantic dwelling-place of one of the most powerful potentates of Al-Islam. Here my heart sank within me, for awaiting us was the executioner, a big, brutal negro, who carried over his shoulder his great _doka_, or keen, curved sword, that had smote off so many heads of men and women. Instinctively I knew my fate. I was being conducted to the Kaboga, or place of execution, there to die. As we approached, the ponderous gate opened and with a loud blast from a dozen blatant wind instruments of curious shape there entered a man attired in white, sitting erect on a richly-caparisoned, coal-black Arab horse, and followed by a crowd of mounted attendants and guards on foot. "May Allah, the One Granter of Requests, envelop our lord the Sultan with the Cloak of Peace," cried the guards, lifting their bass voices with one accord, salaaming before the sharp-eyed man, whose black beard was well trimmed, and in whose crimson turban gleamed a magnificent aigrette of diamonds. Three loud blasts and the roll of a drum announced the return of the Sultan 'Othman. Each time slaves and guards bent low with reverent genuflexions, and each time they lifted aloud their voices in praise of his Imperial Majesty. As, tongue-tied in amazement, I gazed upon the brilliant cavalcade of the powerful autocrat whose fame had been carried over the boundless deserts even to Omdurman, his keen glance fell upon me. Upon his dark, sensual face, in which cruelty was strongly marked, there rested for a second a shadow of displeasure, then reining his horse close to me his searching eyes wandered to the executioner and the Janissaries. Scarcely had I sufficient clothes to cover me, and what I wore were ragged and dirty, yet with the pride of my race I drew myself up, facing him boldly. In deep, stern tones he demanded of his Grand Vizier beside him, whose name was Mahaza, son of Alhan, the nature of the crime for which I was to suffer. "During thine absence, O Mirror of Virtue, yonder spy, an accursed Dervish from Omdurman, hath been discovered by Khazneh, Aga of the women, attired in a woman's haick, concealed within thy Courts of Enchantment." "In my harem?" exclaimed the Sultan, whose angry eyes flashed in my direction. "By what means did the dog obtain admission?" "I know not, O Branch of Honour," answered the Grand Vizier, but at that moment Khazneh, in robes of bright yellow silk, pushed forward, and making a deep obeisance, exclaimed,-- "Give leave unto thy servant to speak, O lord, our Sultan. I found the Dervish spy concealed within the pavilion of thy daughter Azala." The Sultan 'Othman glared at me with brows contracted, and uttered a fierce and terrible curse upon his enemy the Khalifa. His soul in an instant filled with bitterest rage and hate. "How camest thou, son of _sebel_ to pass the guards of mine innermost court?" he demanded, in wrathful tones that caused all to tremble. "I, an Arab of the North, was wounded in battle, and thy daughter, upon whom may the blessing of the One Bountiful rest, gave unto me succour. If thou sparest me--" "Silence, dog!" he roared; then, with a gesture of impatience, turned to his councillor, saying,-- "Let the spy's head be struck off and placed upon the palace gate as a warning." The eyes of my guards, on hearing this, brightened, and they cried: "Thy will, O Mighty Ruler, is our command," and those holding me pushed me forward so roughly that my ragged jibbeh was torn from the neck to the waist, displaying my chest. The Sultan, with a parting injunction to my captors to place my head upon the gate and to announce throughout the city that a spy of the Khalifa had been captured and executed, was about to ride away when suddenly I noticed that he again fixed his gaze full upon me and sat for a few seconds perplexed and thoughtful. "Bring hither thy prisoner. Let him approach me closely," he shouted to the Janissaries, who were at that moment hurrying me away. Amazed at the Sultan's sudden change of manner, the Aga of the Eunuchs and his menials dragged me back before their ruler, who, with his startled eyes fixed upon my uncovered breast, asked in a tone of awe,-- "Speak, slave! How earnest thou by that mystic mark of the serpents?" His anger had instantly cooled. He had detected the strange red scar, and for him it evidently had some serious significance, for he had grown pale under his manly bronze, and the bejewelled hand that held the reins trembled slightly. "Of its origin I have no knowledge," I answered, glancing quickly round and noticing the effect produced by the monarch's sudden change of manner. "Whence comest thou?" he asked, with eagerness unusual to an autocrat. "From Omdurman. I am of the Ansar of the Khalifa." "And thy parentage?" "I was born in the Mountains of Aures, two days' journey from Batna. My father was the Hadj Yakub Sarraf." "Yukub Sarraf, the Kaid of El-Manaa?" he inquired quickly, his sinister face betraying an expression of combined surprise and fear. "Even so, O Sultan." The excess of his rage was only equalled by the promptness of his remorse. Bending in his saddle for a moment, he examined closely the puzzling mark upon me, and then, after a few moments' silence, he turned to Khazneh, who had been standing aghast and amazed, and said,-- "Let the spy's life be spared, but let him be expelled from our midst. If thou findest him within the confines of our empire after three suns have set, then let him die. Mount him upon the swiftest _meheri_, and let twenty guards similarly mounted journey with him until he hath passed beyond the boundary of Sokoto. I have ordained it. Let it be done accordingly." Turning to me he said: "If thou ridest on the wings of haste thy life shall be spared; but enter not again into this my kingdom, or of a verity thine head shall fall." And as he turned to ride forward, he added, in a harsh, strained voice that became softened towards me: "Go, leave my rose garden of happiness quickly. Go, and may the peace of Allah, the Omniscient, rest upon thee in the hour of thine adversity." The all-powerful Sultan, with face pale and agitated, moved slowly onward across the great court with bowed head, followed by his wondering councillors and cringing slaves. Next second I was free. CHAPTER SEVEN. THE WHITE CITY. All sounds had gradually died away in the town. A marabout had climbed to the terrace of the great mosque and was crying "Allah is great! Allah is great!" The surrounding terraces were peopled with white forms which stood out against the summits of the palm-trees and the green of the baobab. Their backs were turned to the purple splendours of the dying light, for their faces looked towards the already darkened east, lighted for them by that eternal light in which Mecca is to be found. The silence was harshly broken by a brazen sound. It was the tamtams in the Kasbah sounding the call for prayer. The plain was now a vast desert phantasmagorically illuminated. Above, the sky flamed into every imaginable colour, and the small water-channel, scarcely visible a moment before, blazed into a reflection of the ardour of the sky, while the rows of ospreys on its banks looked like necklaces of pink pearls. Then all the enchantment was overwhelmed by the sudden twilight that heralds the tropical night. Well mounted on a swift camel, with water-skin and provision-bag filled, and escorted by my guards, I had ridden through the crowded markets, and passing out of the Kofa-n-Magaidi, or eastern gate, set forth across the wide, sandy plain in the direction of prayer. The brief glimpse I caught of the place as I passed hurriedly through its streets surprised me. The inhabitants seemed to some extent a cultured people, and the women apparently enjoyed considerable personal freedom, although the majority were veiled. The men, despite their bellicose spirit and the chronic state of warfare maintained, were not naturally cruel, and treated their slaves kindly. The towers, cupolas and high white walls of the great, impregnable palace, wherein dwelt the woman who had enchanted me, stood dark and frowning against the crimson brilliance of the after-glow, and from my exalted position on the back of my _meheri_ I turned once to glance at them, wondering if Azala knew of my expulsion. Perhaps from her lattice in the great square tower rising above the city she was watching my departure, but she had given no sign, and sorrowfully I at length turned my back upon the White City of the Sultan 'Othman, and urged my camel onward towards the horizon, which seemed a sea of mirage, with a feeling that Fate had, indeed, laid her hand upon me with undeserved harshness. In the cooler hours that succeeded, when the light had entirely faded, and the wind, whirling up clouds of find sand into our faces, compelled us to cover them as we rode on, leaving only our eyes visible, Shu'ba, the chief of the black horsemen accompanying me, declared that if we were to reach Kukawa, in Bornu, within three days, we should be compelled to press forward constantly, resting but a few hours during the heat of noon. My guards were heavily armed, each carrying a very keen, straight sword, a dagger suspended from the left wrist, and a spear six feet long, while with several this arsenal was also supplemented by a rifle. Acting no doubt under the Sultan's orders, they treated me with every consideration, and proved themselves lighthearted, genial fellows; yet the long ride through the great, silent wilderness, eternally warm, eternally gloomy, gave me many opportunities for dismal reflections upon the strange turn events had taken. Azala had fascinated, entranced me, and I loved her with all the strength of my being. Yet I had been thus forcibly torn from her, never to return on penalty of death. Each long stride of the animal beneath me took me further from her, yet she trusted in me to save her. From the words uttered by Khazneh in reply to the Sultan, it was evident that the latter had had no knowledge of my capture and imprisonment, and Azala had, on account of her father's absence, been unable to secure my release. The mysterious symbol that seemed to link me in some inexplicable manner to the woman I loved had apparently produced in the Sultan a feeling of dismay, for when he noticed it a sudden terror had enthralled him. Awe-stricken at its significance, he had instantly rescinded the order for my execution, sending me forth from his empire as if apprehensive that my presence was a harbinger of some dreaded evil. For a brief space we halted in the date-grove of Maifoura at midnight, eating a little _tiggra_ with curdled milk diluted with water, and some _ngaji_ or paste of sorghum, and having thus recruited our strength the cry of "_Ala e'dhahar! ala e dhahar_!" (Mount! mount!) sounded, and we resumed our ride over the low hills of Kobiri, and through the great, gloomy forest of Gounel. South of the Lake Tsad the country is fertile, and only here and there are there wide, sandy deserts reminding one of the waterless, sterile regions of Azawagh and Taganet in the Great Sahara, that arid, monotonous, and almost impassable gulf that separates the regions of Sokoto, Bornu, Baguirmi and Gando from the European civilisation of Northern Algeria. Having passed through the forest, the wooded level became interrupted from time to time by bare-naked concavities, or shallow hollows, consisting of black, sedimentary soil, where, during the rainy season, the water collects, and drying up gradually leaves a most fertile sediment for the cultivation of the _masakwa_, a kind of holcus which is the most important article in the agriculture of Sokoto. We saw herds of ostriches, troops of gazelles and many moufflons as, on our forced march, we passed the great ruins of Thaba, grim, grey, time-worn monuments of the Roman occupation, forded the Yoobe river at Ngouroutoua--where my guards told me an English traveller named Richardson had died many years ago--skirted the lagoon of Mouggobi, and continuing for nearly eight hours along narrow, verdant valleys, where, side by side with the diminutive, stunted palms, grew the colossal baobabs, the mastodons of the vegetable kingdom, whose gigantic branches were inhabited by vultures, serpents, bats and lizards. Then at last we passed out upon the great granite plateau of Koyam, dotted over with hillocks and in part strewn with quartz sand, home of the nomad Uled-Delim, "pirates of the desert," a sun-baked, stony wilderness devoid of any living thing. The third day was occupied wholly in crossing this vast solitude, where incessantly we were compelled to shout "_Hai_! _Hai_!" the ejaculation of caution to our camels, as the beasts, weary and jaded, plodded on until, about an hour after we had knelt to repeat our _majhrib_, while the shadows were lengthening as the sun declined, the tall, white watch-tower at the principal gate of Kukawa rose before us, and beyond lay the waters of Lake Tsad shimmering like liquid gold in the glorious evening light. When the cry was raised that the town was in sight, my guards held consultation and halted. Then Shu'ba, drawing up his camel close to mine, exclaimed,-- "Thou hast performed the journey within the time stipulated by our lord the Sultan, therefore we now leave thee to continue thy way alone." "Wilt thou not rest yonder for a while before returning?" I asked, surprised. "Nay," he answered, shrugging his shoulders significantly. "The people of Bornu are our enemies. We would rather take our ease upon the plains than within the city of those who seek our overthrow"--a speech that was greeted by low, guttural sounds of approbation by the others perched on their camels around. Then, continuing, he said, "It is our Sultan's will that the _meheri_ thou ridest shall be given unto thee, together with this rifle, ammunition and _jambiyah_," and as he uttered these words he handed me the gun he carried, together with his pouch and a crooked knife in a silver scabbard he drew from his sash. "Alone in these regions thou mayest require them," observed a light-hearted young negro, with a broad grin. "Unto thy Sultan, whose dignity be increased, render thanks in my name. Tell him that Zafar-Ben-A'Ziz is his grateful servant, and that he beareth neither malice nor hatred," I answered. "Behold, I am also charged with a further duty," said Shu'ba, with a solemnity quite unusual to him. "Before we left the Fada one of the eunuchs of the Courts of Enchantment gave this unto me to deliver into thine hands," and he drew from the breast of his gandoura a small box of delicately-chased gold, securely sealed. "Whence didst thou obtain it?" I asked, in surprise, taking it in my hands. "From Hisham, the eunuch. He refused to tell who had given it unto him, but gave me strict command to place it in thine hands at the moment when we parted, with an injunction that it must not be opened until thou art actually within the walls of Kukawa." "May I not investigate its contents now?" I asked, puzzled. "Nay, curb thine impatience. Behold, the sun is already declining," he answered, glancing around. "Spur onward, or, of a verity, thou wilt not obtain entrance to yonder city ere its gate is closed." His prompting influenced me to make hurried adieu, and, as with one accord they gave me "Peace," I sped away in the direction of the town, turning once to wave back a farewell. As I rode forward, four armed horsemen, their white burnouses flying in the wind, sped across the plain to meet me. With rifles held high in air with threatening gesture, they in a few minutes pulled their horses to their haunches before me, loudly demanding whence I came. "I am Zafar-Ben-A'Ziz of the Ansar of thine ally, the Khalifa of Omdurman," I replied, laughing a moment later at the effect my words had produced. "From Omdurman?" they gasped. "How earnest thou hither in company with horsemen of the Sultan 'Othman, who fled at our approach?" Briefly, I told them how I had been held prisoner, and subsequently expelled by the Sultan. "Allah hath indeed covered thee with the cloak of protection," observed one of the men, "None who descends to the terrible dungeons beneath the Fada of Kano ever comes forth alive." "Yea, thou hast assuredly narrowly escaped," agreed another, and, as they turned to ride back with me, they related news of how, on the advance of the Khalifa's troops towards Sokoto, the iron cymbals of war had been silenced, for the Dervishes had been attacked and routed by the Kanouri and Tuaregs in the swamps outside Massenya, after which it was believed the survivors had returned in confusion to Omdurman. Thus I found myself in sorry plight, without resources, and with a thousand miles of gloomy forest and burning desert between myself and the Dervish headquarters beside the Nile. With my companions I entered the ponderous gate which was being kept open for our arrival, and, passing the little daily market (the _dyrriya_), which was crowded, we rode along the _deudal_, or promenade, past groups of Arabs and native courtiers in all the finery of their dress and of their brightly-caparisoned horses, until we came to the house of the sheikh, a spacious place with a single _chedia_ or caoutchouc-tree in front. But the sand into which we had floundered as if it were a mire pursued us everywhere--in the streets, in the houses. The lounging slaves stared at my ragged attire, but the Sheikh Mohammed Ben Bu-Sad, to whom I was conducted, was very gracious, and after hearing the story of the defeat of my comrades-in-arms, my captivity, and my narrow escape, gave orders that for the present I should be lodged with one of the horsemen who had met me, and whom I discovered was named Lamino (properly El-Amin), his confidential officer. Thus, an hour later, I found myself installed in a small, clay-built house in the _billa gedibe_, or eastern town, and when alone I drew forth the small, golden box Shu'ba had given me. It was square, about the length of the middle finger, covered with quaintly-graven arabesques, and securely sealed with yellow wax. CHAPTER EIGHT. VEILED MEN OF THE DESERT. Eagerly I broke the seals and tremblingly opened the lid of the tiny casket, taking out a folded piece of paper covered with lines of Arabic hastily scrawled in yellow ink. These, in the dim twilight, I deciphered only with difficulty, and found they read as follows:-- "_Know, O Stranger, now thou hast escaped from the wrath of our lord the Sultan, that thy presence within the walls of the Fada hath placed Azala, Princess of Sokoto, in deadly Peril. If thou wilt lend her thine aid, return, for thou alone canst solve the mysterious symbol of the asps, rescue her from death, and bring her unto the garden of happiness. Know, O Stranger, that even though she cannot communicate or have speech with thee, that she loveth thee; that each hour of thine enforced absence is as a year, and that the gilded pavilion wherein she dwelleth is but a house of sorrow because of thy departure. Keep the seal of silence ever upon thy lips and obey the command of Azala Fathma quickly, that thine endeavours may be approved. Return unto her speedily in such disguise that thou canst not be recognised; then will she tear aside the veil of secrecy and reveal unto thee strange marvels. Pause not in thine efforts to return, for each day bringeth her nearer unto cruel and ignominious Certainty. May the rose-grove of thy prosperity and good fortune be increased daily in freshness and magnificence, and the foundation of thy belief in the purity of thy One of Beauteous Countenance be more firmly established from hour to hour.--Thy Friend_." After the heat and burden of the long African day the respite at twilight always gives one a sensation of physical solace, yet nevertheless it brings with it a feeling of intense sadness and melancholy. Again and again I read the curious missive. Evidently at Azala's instigation it had been penned in order to reassure me, and to induce me to return so that I could assist her in solving the mysterious problem to which she had hinted so pointedly when we had been alone. But foreseeing plainly the serious risk I should run if I attempted to re-enter Kano, and the absolute impossibility of obtaining access to the innermost courts of the Fada, I regarded the suggestion as utterly hopeless. Had not the Sultan warned me that if I again set foot within his empire my life would pay the penalty? Might not his dread of the mysterious evil that I might bring upon him cause him to take my life, notwithstanding his daughter's fervent supplications? Yet Azala was in sore need of help, and sought my aid. Her promise to "tear aside the veil of secrecy" I felt inclined to construe into a pledge to render me explanation of the curious marks that both of us bore. Was it not more than an extraordinary coincidence that with a thousand miles of arid, stony desert, and a similar distance of fertile land separating us at our birth, we should each bear the Brand of the Asps--the mystic symbol the sight of which terrified even the powerful Ruler of Sokoto. From the demeanour of both the Sultan and his daughter I felt that the strange device was the key of some greater secret underlying it, and the thought of Azala in peril, and trusting in me alone for assistance, urged me to a resolution to obey the injunctions of my anonymous correspondent. I had both a stout heart and a strong arm. My true Bedouin parentage had imparted to me the reckless _nonchalance_ of the vagabond adventurer, and my life during the past ten years had been a strange series of nomadic ups and downs, desert wandering, fighting, slave-raiding, trading; in fact, I had picked up a precarious livelihood in the same manner as the majority of Sons of the Desert whose camels are their only wealth, and whose ragged tents their only dwelling-place. The Mystery of the Asps seemed inexplicable, but in that cool night beneath the stars in the little open court I made solemn determination to return to Kano and seek its solution, even though compelled to risk my life in the attempt. Until the going down of the sun on the Nahr-el-arba following my arrival at Kukawa was I the guest of Lamino; then, refreshed by rest, I prayed my _Fatiha_ in the Great Mosque, and assuming the loose robe of dark blue cotton, wrapping a white litham around my face and twisting some yards of camel's hair around my head, set out upon my _meheri_ to accompany a caravan of Buzawe conveying merchandise to El Fasher, whence I intended to travel alone back to Omdurman, there to report the annihilation of my comrades. In the whole of that vast region from Lake Tsad to El Fasher, comprising thousands of square miles, there is not a single carriage road, not a mile of navigable waters, not a wheeled vehicle, canoe or boat of any kind. There are scarcely any beaten tracks, for most of the routes, though followed for ages without divergence to right or left, are temporarily effaced with every sandstorm, and recovered only by means of the permanent landmarks--wells, prominent dunes, a solitary knoll crowned with a solitary bush, or perchance a ghastly line of bleached bones of men and animals, the remains of slaves, camels, or travellers that may have perished of thirst or exhaustion between the oases. Few venture to travel alone, or even in small parties, which could offer but little resistance to the bands of marauders hovering about all the main lines of traffic. Hence the caravans usually comprise hundreds and even thousands of men and pack animals, all under a _kebir_, or guide, whose word is law. Under him are assistants, armed escorts and scouts to reconnoitre the land in dangerous neighbourhoods, besides notaries to record contracts and agreements, sometimes even public criers, and an _imam_ to recite the prescribed prayers. The caravan, belonging to Abu Talib, a wealthy merchant of Yo, was a small one, consisting of about one hundred camels heavily laden with ivory, kola nuts, spices, and other goods from the far south, destined for the great market at El Fasher, and was guarded by twenty fierce-looking Arabs and a number of negro and Arab drivers, all well armed, for the country through which we were to pass was infested by the marauding Tuaregs, those black-veiled terrors of the plains, who know nothing of anything but the desert and the implacable sun. Abu Talib, who accompanied us in person, was an aged, good-hearted man of the tribe of Aulad Hamed, who had spent the greater part of his life trading between In Salah and Timbuktu, or between Yo and Mourkouk, over the boundless Sahara, and in the darkness, as we rode together and our camels with silent tread loomed like phantoms in the midnight air, we told each other of our journeys and adventures. His companions were true sons of the sands, active, vigorous and enterprising, inured to hardships, and with the mental faculties sharpened almost to a preternatural degree by the hard struggle for existence in their arid, rocky homes. In making their way across those trackless solitudes they seemed endowed with that "sense of direction," the existence of which has recently been discussed by students of psychology. In the whole of the Great Sahara no race is more shrewd or cunning than the Buzawe, and their tact and skill enable them to get the better both of Arabs and negroes in the markets of the oases. Greed and harshness were stamped upon their hard features, but nevertheless they treated me, a lonely wanderer, with considerable kindness. On leaving Kukawa we passed across a great plain, then through a dense forest, afterwards entering a fine, undulating country, covered with a profusion of herbage, with here and there large gamshi-trees with broad, fleshy leaves of brightest green. The moon shone bright as day, and as our file of camels strode on with slow, rhythmic movement under their burdens, the drivers would now and then sing snatches of wild songs of daring in the Hausa tongue. Thus, resting by day and journeying by night, we moved forward around the marshy shore of Lake Tsad to Missene, thence through the cool, shady forest of Dekena Kreda, enlivened by many birds, along the densely-populated valleys of Boulala to the strange little town of Amm Chererib situate in the hollow formed between four great mountains, at length, when the moon was again at the full, reaching Abecher, at the foot of the hills of Outoulo, without much exciting incident. Halting for one day under the fortified walls to fill our camels' _kewas_ with provisions, we again pushed forward unceasingly in order to accomplish the two hundred and fifty miles of barren, waterless land unmercifully scorched and burnt by a devouring sun, that stretches between the capital of Darmaba and El Fasher. This portion of the journey was the most difficult we had encountered, for the rough stones played terrible havoc with the spongy feet of our camels, and the heat was insufferable, even at night, on account of the poison-wind sweeping across us continuously. For five days we pushed forward by short stages only, until at sunrise one day we espied an oasis, and, encamping in the small shade it afforded, Abu Talib decided to give the animals rest. The packs were therefore removed, our tents erected, and having eaten our _dakkwa_, a dry paste made of pounded Guinea-corn with dates and pepper, washed it down with some _giya_ made of sorghum, we reclined and slept during the warm, drowsy hours of the siesta. Some noise had awakened me, and lighting my keef-pipe I was squatting in the shadow cast by one of the camel's packs, deep in my own sad thoughts, when the crack of a rifle startled me. Next second, even before my companions could seize their arms, the whole neighbourhood was alive with yelling Tuaregs on horseback, armed to the teeth, with their draperies floating in the wind. I saw they all wore the black litham about their faces. One, as he advanced on foot, levelled his gun at me and fired, but missed. In a moment I threw myself full length upon the sand behind a camel's pack, and opened fire upon our enemies. With deliberate aim I had picked off three with as many shots, when suddenly I heard old Abu Talib cry,-- "Lost are we! Our enemies are the Aoulemidens!" Almost before the words died upon his lips a bullet struck the old man full in the breast; he staggered back and fell, within a few yards of me, a corpse. To resist these fierce outlaws, the most relentless tribe of Tuaregs who lived in the depths of that arid, desolate country, with no knowledge of the outside world, was, we knew, hopeless, for there were fully three hundred of them, and as they found our little band disinclined to surrender, they began shooting us down ruthlessly. Already four of our party had been captured and bound, while three were lying dead, nevertheless our rapid fusillade kept at bay those preparing to dash in and seize our camels' packs. Fiercely we fought for life. We knew that if we fell into the hands of this brigandish tribe who called themselves "The Breath of the Wind," by which their victims were to understand that they might as well seek the wind as hope to recover their stolen property, we should either be sold at the nearest market, or placed under some horrible and fiendish torture to die a slow, agonising death. Suddenly a wild yell rent the air, and before we were aware of it a troop of some fifty horsemen dashed in among us, so quickly that resistance was impossible. Hand-to-hand we struggled, straining every muscle to evade our enemies, but ere long the obstinate, heroic courage of my companions could no longer blind them to the approach of the inevitable, and we were each secured and bound, captives in the hands of the merciless veiled men of the desert, whose fierce brutality was feared alike by slaves and Sultans throughout the sun-parched land. Our arms were twisted from our grasp, our camels' packs seized, and, linked together ignominiously by chains around our necks, we were secured to three palm trunks, under a strong guard with loaded rifles, to wait while our captors investigated their booty and reloaded our camels. Nearly two hours this occupied, when at length the grey-bearded, sinister-faced leader of the band of free-booters gave the order to mount, and before long the party, numbering nearly three hundred horsemen armed to the teeth, moved away into the sandy wilderness, compelling us to trudge over the hot, stony ground on foot under the fiery rays of the blazing sun. It was evident that we were to be sold as slaves. One unfortunate camel-driver, who had been wounded, fell from sheer exhaustion within the first hour, and was left to die, for slave-raiders like "The Breath of the Wind" regard the wounded only as an encumbrance, and as they will not sell they are either put out of their misery by a shot, or left to die of thirst and become food for the vultures. Fortunately, with the exception of a slight cut on the left hand received from a _jambiyah_ with which one of my captors had slashed at me, I sustained no injury, and with my companions, a little band of silent, despairing men, I plodded wearily onward--onward to be sold into slavery. Upon all the perpendicular rays of the sun beat down with a heat as burning and intense as that of a fiery furnace, and always--always for a horizon--the desert, the infinite breadth of glaring sands. CHAPTER NINE. AN AUDIENCE OF THE KHALIFA. Those days of burning heat were full of horrors. Treated with scant humanity, we were half starved, allowed only sufficient water to slake our thirst once a day, and beaten mercilessly with thongs of rhinoceros hide whenever one, more faint and weary than the rest, lagged behind. Eastward we travelled for six days, until, at the well of Lassera Dar Abd-er-Rahman, we were sold for two small bags of gold to some nomad Dasas encamped there. The Tuaregs dare not enter a town in the Eastern Soudan, although, in the West, they are universally dreaded on account of their depredations; therefore they always sell their captives to other slavers, who dispose of their human wares at the nearest trade centre. Hence, by our new masters we were conveyed to Dara, a town one day's journey south of El Fasher, placed in the slave market, and, after considerable haggling, disposed of. My new master was a well-dressed, keen-eyed, wizen-faced old Arab of the tribe known as Jalin, who, after inspecting me and looking into my mouth as he would a horse, handed payment with ill grace to the black-faced scoundrel who sold me, and ordered me to follow him. Together we passed out of the busy, bustling crowd, when he addressed me, asking my name. "Art thou an Arab from the North?" he exclaimed in surprise, when I had told him who I was, and the place of my birth. "How earnest thou hither?" "I fell into the hands of the Tuaregs, upon whom may the curse of Eblis rest!" I answered, hesitating to inform him at present that I was a Dervish. As we walked to the city gate, where he said his camels were tethered, he told me his name was Shazan, and, judge my extreme satisfaction when he added that he was about to return to Omdurman, where he lived opposite the Beit-el-Amana. Hence, my stroke of ill-fortune turned out advantageous, for within a week I found myself once again within the great walls of the Khalifa's stronghold. Then my new master having treated me harshly, I resolved at last that he should suffer, therefore I applied to the Kaid for release from slavery, on the ground that I was a member of the Ansar of the Khalifa. Old Shazan, amazed that his latest purchase should turn out to be one of his great ruler's bodyguard, rated me soundly for not informing him at first, but I laughed, telling him that I had desired to get to Omdurman, and kept my own counsel, until such time as it suited me. Knowing that he would lose the money he had paid for me, the close-fisted old merchant refused to comply with the order made by the Kaid for my release, but the rumour of my escape from Kano, coming to the ears of the great Abdullah, the latter one day sent six of his personal attendants with orders to release me, and to bring me before him. The shadows were lengthening in the marble courts of the "Bab," or great palace of the Mahdi's tyrannical successor, when I was conducted across the outer square, where brightly-dressed guards were lounging on their rifles, or playing _damma_ beneath the cool, vine-veiled arches. Never before had I been permitted to set foot inside the court, although many times had I passed under the shadow of the Iron Mosque near by, and gazed with curiosity at the high walls, smeared with red sand, which encircled the marble courts, gilded pavilions and cool gardens of the ruler of the Soudan--the ruler whose only idea was self-aggrandisement. The extent of the palace amazed me, for, even if it was scarcely as luxurious as the wonderful Fada at Kano, it was assuredly quite as large. Through one open, sun-lit court after another we passed, until we were challenged by four of the royal bodyguard with drawn swords, but a word propitiated them, and a few seconds later I found myself in the great, marble-built Hall of Audience, in the presence of the stout, sinister-faced man of middle age and kingly bearing, with black, scraggy beard, whose name was a power throughout the Soudan. He wore a robe of bright purple, embroidered with gold, a turban of white silk, and his fat, brown hands were loaded with rings of enormous value. Beneath a great baldachin of bright yellow silk, with tassels and fringes of gold, surmounted by the standard of the Mahdi, the powerful Abdullah, the ruler before whom all trembled, reclined upon his luxurious silken divan, fanned by black slaves on either side, while a negro lad sat at his feet, ready to hand him a pipe, the mouth-piece of which was studded with diamonds. Around him were grouped his body-servants, the _mulazimin_, and officers, while near him was Abdel Gayum, the chief eunuch, his hand resting upon his sword, and Ali Wad Helu, chief of the Baggara, who had led the ill-fated expedition of which I had been a member. Conducted by my guides up to the scarlet mat spread before the potentate, who thought himself master of the whole world, I fell upon my knees in obeisance, expressing thanks for my rescue from bondage. "Let him be seated," the Khalifa ordered, turning to his slaves, and in an instant cushions were brought, and I sat myself, cross-legged, awaiting questions to fall from his lips. "What, I wondered, had I done that I was allowed to sit in the royal presence?" "So thou art the Arab Zafar-Ben-A'Ziz, the horseman who alone escaped death at the well of Sabo-n-Gari?" exclaimed the vain, cruel, quick-tempered man who ruled the Soudan under the guise of Mahdiism. "I am, O King," I answered, bowing until my forehead touched the carpet. "Of a verity will I punish those enemies who attacked my Jehadieh," he cried suddenly, in fiercest rage. "Where be those owls, those oxen of the oxen, those beggars, those cut-off ones, those aliens, those Sons of Flight? Withered be their hands! palsied be their fingers! the foul moustachioed fellows! basest of the Arabs who ever hammered tent-peg! sneaking cats! goats of Al-Akhfash! Truly will I torture them with the torture of oil, the mines of infamy, the cold of countenance! By Allah, and by Allah, and by Allah, we will crush those sons of Ach Chaitan like snakes, and throw their bodies to the dogs!" Then, turning to me in calmer mood, the autocrat of the Soudan exclaimed, "Some of thine adventures have already reached mine ear, and I would hear from thine own lips how thou didst escape and how farest thou in the Fada of 'Othman of Sokoto. Let not thy tongue hurry, but relate carefully in thine own words what things occurred to thee." "Thy servant is honoured, O Ruler of our Empire," I answered. "Under thy Raya Zerga did I go forth, but returned hither as the slave of the merchant Shazan--" "Already have we full knowledge of that," the tyrannical monarch interrupted, and turning to one of his officers he added, with an imperious wave of his fat hand, "Let the merchant Shazan, the dog of a Jalin, receive fifty strokes with the bastinado and be fined two bags of gold for purchasing a slave belonging to his Sultan." Then, as the official hastened out lo do his capricious master's bidding, the Khalifa turned towards me, his thick red lips parted in a smile, lolling back lazily on his divan as he exclaimed,-- "Continue thy story. Our ears are open for information regarding the city of 'Othman, therefore describe in detail all that thou knowest." Briefly I related how we had been attacked at night by the Tuaregs, how my comrades had been slaughtered fighting till the last, and how I awoke to find myself within the palace of the Sultan 'Othman, when suddenly the injunction contained in the anonymous letter recurred to me: "Keep the seal of silence ever upon thy lips." Therefore I deemed it expedient to omit from my narrative all reference to Azala, making it appear that I had been rescued by a kind-hearted soldier of the palace guard. I knew that Abdullah delighted in listening to calumnies and hearing evil spoken of other people, and for half-an-hour entertained him by describing the situation and aspect of Kano, the dimensions of the Fada, the horrors of my dungeon, and the personal appearance and character of the Sultan 'Othman, to which all listened with breathless attention. When I had finished he remained silent a moment, as if reflecting, then raising his head he bestowed a few words of commendation upon me, concluding by the declaration,-- "Of a verity thou art a faithful and valiant servant. Henceforward thou shalt be chief of my _mulazimin_, and honoured among men." I was expressing thanks in flowery speech to the autocrat for this appointment, which, as chief of his Majesty's body-servants, was a position of great honour, with substantial emoluments, when suddenly the silk-robed heralds posted at the entrance to the Hall of Audience sounded three loud blasts upon their shining _onbeias_. Then, as every one's attention was directed towards the great horse-shoe arch from which the curtains of blue silk were ceremoniously drawn aside by black guards, there entered a tall, commanding figure in gorgeous robe, attended by a dozen followers less showily dressed, but all armed, making great show of ostentation. With swaggering gait the stranger strode up the spacious hall, and as the Khalifa motioned me to rise and step aside to allow the new-comer to make obeisance in the royal presence, I was amazed and alarmed to suddenly recognise in him the man I least desired to meet. It was Khazneh, the brutal Aga of the Eunuchs at the court of 'Othman, Sultan of Sokoto. CHAPTER TEN. BY IMPERIAL REQUEST. In fear of recognition I held my breath, and, withdrawing among the crowd of guards and courtiers assembled around the royal divan, watched the obsequious homage paid the Khalifa by Khazneh, who I discovered was accompanied by Mahaza, Grand Vizier of Sokoto. Abdullah, reclining lazily upon his silken cushions, at first paid little heed to their salaams. On his brow was a dark, forbidding look; probably he was thinking of the ill-fated expedition he had dispatched, and the apparent hopelessness of ever conquering his enemy 'Othman. Long ago had he overstepped the dignity of a sovereign, and now coveted the honours of a god. The two ambassadors from the Fada at Kano prostrated themselves, pressing their foreheads to the ground, and assured the powerful head of the Mahdists that they were charged by their Sultan to convey to him most fervent salutations. Yet he affected not to notice their presence. Surprised at the haughty coolness of his reception, Khazneh, still upon his knees, continued to address the mighty Khalifa. "Know, O One of Exalted Dignity, Ruler of the Soudan, who holdeth thy servants' destinies in the hollow of thine hand, the object of our journey hither is to spread out the carpet of apologies, to become ennobled by meeting thine exalted person, to regenerate and to refresh the meadow of our expectations by the showers of the fountain-head of thy wisdom, and to see the rosebuds of our hopes opening and smiling from the breeze of thy regard. Our lord the Sultan has sent us to deliver this, therefore command and deal with us as thou listeth," and from the breast of his gorgeous robe he drew forth a sealed letter, which was ceremoniously handed to the reclining potentate by one of the black slaves. The Khalifa Abdullah, suddenly interested, opened it, and, having read the missive, crushed it in his hand with impatient gesture. "Behold," added Khazneh, "we are charged to deliver unto thee a few gems for thine acceptance as a peace-offering, and to assure thee of our lord 'Othman's good will and high esteem," and as he uttered the words, the gaudily-dressed members of the mission advanced, and, kneeling, deposited before the royal divan a golden salver heaped with costly jewels. With a cursory glance at them, the occupant of the divan at length motioned the ambassadors to rise, saying in a deep, impressive voice,-- "The request of the Sultan is granted, and his presents accepted, O messengers. Assure thy lord that the knot of our amity is to-day strengthened by this invitation to travel unto Kano, and that ere many moons have risen we shall have the felicity of conversing with him. At present Allah hath not on the face of the earth a servant more excellent nor wise than he, and we are invested with the robe of being the elect and favoured. May the path of our association never become obstructed." The dead silence that had fallen upon the Court was broken by rustling movement and low murmurings of approbation. "Truly thou art wise and generous, O Ruler, upon whom be the blessing of the pardoning Sovereign," exclaimed Mahaza. "Thou, who art distinguished by great possessions, abundant revenues, innumerable quantities of cattle, and multitudes of servants and slaves, showerest upon thy servants copious favours. May the enemies of the threshold of thy dignity and station be overtaken by the deluge of affliction, and may they in the sea of exclusion be drowned by the waves of perdition." "Verily, if thou comest unto Kano, our lord will receive thee with befitting welcome," added Khazneh. "Thou, successor to the holy Mahdi who possessest the three greatest blessings, namely, meekness in the time of anger, liberality in the time of dearth, and pardon in a powerful position, wilt find a reception awaiteth thee such as none have hitherto received within the walls of our city. The relation of a king unto his subjects is like the relation of a soul to the body; in the same way as the soul doth not neglect the body for a single instant, so the king must not forget the care of his subjects even during the twinkling of an eye. Thou hast never swerved from the straight path, hence thou art honoured throughout the Soudan, even to the uttermost ends of Sokoto, and if thou wilt deign to visit our Sultan he will offer unto thee and thine officers, guards and slaves, generous entertainment within the Fada, for he desireth an understanding with thee that our countries may unite to defeat and discomfort our mutual enemies." The reason of the unlooked-for invitation to visit the great White City he had plotted to besiege immediately commended itself to the Khalifa, who, with a benign smile, took from his finger two great emerald rings, and, handing one to each of the Sultan's ambassadors, assured them that the sun of his personal favours shone upon them, adding, in prophetic tones,-- "Take your ease here, for ye must be spent with long travel. I know not the day when I can set forth, for I act according to hidden knowledge, the visible effects of which are ofttimes evil, but the consequences always beneficent and salutary." Then, as the two men from Kano again pressed their brows to the carpet, renewed laudations and gratitude for blessings received emanated from their lips, and from those assembled there rose panegyrical murmurs that Abdullah had decided to visit the Sultan 'Othman as honoured guest instead of arrogant conqueror. Thus was the meeting between the two powerful rulers of the Sahara and the Soudan arranged, a meeting destined to mark an epoch in the history of Central Africa. The Khalifa's curiosity to investigate the extent of the wealthy country which acknowledged 'Othman as Sultan probably accounted for his sudden decision to undertake the long and tedious journey. Although the invitation had been sent with a view to effecting an offensive and defensive alliance between the two peoples, yet, in my new office as chief of the Khalifa's body-servants, I had ample means of knowing that he still cherished hopes of eventually overthrowing his whilom ally, and annexing the Empire of Sokoto. Two days after the reception of the envoys, Mahaza left on his return to inform 'Othman of his friend's intended visit, while Khazneh remained to accompany his master's guest. Being permitted as a favoured servant to approach Abdullah closely, I was fortunately enabled to express to him a hope that the Aga of the Sultan's Eunuchs would not be made aware of my identity with the hapless victim of his wrath, and it was with satisfaction I found that in my silk robes of bright crimson and gold and picturesque head-dress my enemy failed to recognise me. The day was an eventful one in Omdurman when, at first flush of dawn, my royal master seated himself under the thatched _rukuba_ and addressed his Ansar, urging upon them the necessity of loyalty and discipline during his absence. Then, after a great review of seventy thousand troops in the square of Abu nga, the Mahdist chieftain, with a portion of his harem, one thousand male slaves and four thousand courtiers and picked horsemen with banners, moved down the Road of the Martyrs on the first stage of the long journey westward. Prayers for the safety of the Khalifa were at that moment being said by nearly one hundred thousand men and women in the Great Mosque--not a mosque in its usual sense, but a huge yard--and their murmurings sounded like a distant roar as, in the cool hour before sunrise, we rode at walking pace along the winding Nile bank towards the misty hills where dwelt the Jinns. Eager as were my companions to feast their eyes on the glories of Kano, none was so eager as myself lo pass the grim, prison-like portals of the great l'ada and rest beside those cool, ever-plashing fountains within the wonderful labyrinth of wide courts and shady arcades. The wheel of fortune had indeed taken a strange turn and was spinning in my favour, for I was actually returning to Azala in disguise so effectual that even Khazneh could not detect me, and as each day brought me nearer to her I racked my brain in vain to devise some means by which I could, on arrival, inform her of my presence and obtain an interview. To fathom the hidden secret of the Mark of the Asps I was determined, and on the hot, tedious journey across the dreary, sandy waste, infested by marauders, and known by the ominous name of _Ur immandess_--"He (Allah) hears not;" that is, is deaf to the cry of the waylaid traveller--I served my capricious master with patience and diligence, awaiting such time as I could seek the woman who had entranced me, and learn from her lips the strange things she had promised to reveal. By day the journey was terribly fatiguing, but in the cool nights, when we encamped for our _kayf_, there was feasting, dancing and merry-making. The night hours were enlivened by _Safk_ (clapping of hands) and the loud sounds of songs. There were many groups of dancing-girls, surrounded by crowds of onlookers. Though sometimes they performed Al-Nahl, the Bee dance, their performances were wild in the extreme, resembling rather the hopping of bears than the graceful dances of the harem, and the bystanders joined in the song--an interminable recitative, as usual in the minor key, and so well tuned that it sounded like one voice, with the refrain "La Yayha! La Yayha!" Through the brief, brilliant night always "La Yayha!" CHAPTER ELEVEN. TIAMO THE DWARF. A whole moon passed ere the sun-whitened walls and minarets of Kano became visible. The sandy approaches of the city were strewn with bones and carcasses that had been disinterred by wild beasts, the remains of camels, horses and asses that had fallen and died in the last stages of the journey. The cities of the desert are invariably encircled by their bones, and the roads across the glaring wilderness are lined by their bodies. The sun had risen about four hours when the advance guard of the Ansar spurred hurriedly back to announce that the town was in sight, and very shortly the details of the distant shape grew clearer, and we espied a body of troops, bearing the green-and-gold standard of the Sultan, riding forth to welcome us. They were gaudily attired in bright blue, and, as they dashed forward, indulged in their La'ab al-Barut (gunpowder play) while their bright shields and unsheathed swords flashed and gleamed in the sun, as now and then the wind parted the cloud of dust and smoke which enveloped them. The faint sound of trumpets and clash of cymbals came from the distant city, enthroned upon the horizon a dark silhouette, large and long, an image of grandeur in immensity, wherein all my hopes were centred, and as we approached we saw that Mahaza, the Grand Vizier, had been sent by the Sultan 'Othman to give us peace and conduct us into the Fada. My master's retinue, consisting as it did of nearly five thousand persons, was indeed an imposing one, and when an hour later we entered the city gate and passed up the hill to where the well-remembered tower of the Fada stood white against the intensely blue sky, the brass cannon mounted on the walls belched forth thundering salutes, and a cloud of soft white smoke floated up in the still, warm air. Strange it was, I reflected, that the houses of Kano everywhere displayed that essential characteristic of early Egyptian art--the pyramidal form, which represented solidity to those ancient architects. The walls of the oldest constructions had a slight inward inclination, and possessed no windows, or only the roughest sketch of them. Light and air entered through openings cut in the roof. The summits of the dwellings were ornamented by those triangular battlements which may be seen on the palaces of Rameses Meiamoun. The pylon, which is another characteristic of Egyptian architecture, gave access to the dwellings. In short, the effect of the whole, their harmonious proportions, the symmetrical distribution of their ornamental mottoes, and their massiveness, proclaimed the art of Egypt, bearing out the legend that the people of Sokoto came originally from the far east. The multitude was wild with excitement. In their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the Khalifa, world-famous for his piety and his cruelty, they rendered the streets almost impassable, shouting themselves hoarse in welcome. Blatant tam-tams beat a monotonous accompaniment to the roar of artillery, and as the Sultan's guest, mounted on a magnificent camel at the head of his black Jihadieh, passed onward, the shout of "_Alhahu Akhbar_!" rose from fifty thousand throats, echoing again and again. Progress was slow on account of the immense crowds, and even the Sultan's spearmen, who preceded us, had considerable difficulty in clearing a path. Numbers were bruised, kicked by the horses or fatally injured by the long spears, but they were left unnoticed--a mere remark "_Umru Khalas_," (It is the end of life) being all the sympathy ever offered. Yet the impetuous populace continued to yell enthusiastic words of welcome, the guns thundered, and the three stately men preceding the Khalifa blew long, piercing blasts on their immense _onbeias_ fashioned from elephants' tusks. At length, on arrival at the great, gloomy portal of the Fada, the iron-studded gates suddenly opened, revealing the Sultan 'Othman clad in golden casque and royal robe of amaranth velvet, with a handsomely-caparisoned, milk-white horse curveting under him, and surrounded by his gaudily-attired bodyguards and mukuddums, who filled the air with their adulations, declaring that their Imperial master was _Ma al-Sama_ (the splendour of Heaven). Alone he came forward wishing his guest "Peace" in a loud voice, then adroitly dismounting, embraced the Khalifa. Abdullah, much pleased at this mark of respect and homage, greeted him warmly and ordered him to remount, but the Sultan remained on foot, uttering some rapid instructions to his emirs, who had also dismounted to stand beside him. Passing through the archway into the great outer court, the Jihadieh and the Ansar remaining outside, we all dismounted with the exception of my royal master and the ladies of his harem, whose camels were led onward to the inner pavilion that had been set apart for them. As chief of the _mulazimin_ I followed my royal master, and as we passed from court to court, Janissaries, eunuchs, slaves and courtiers made salaam and raised their voices in shouts of welcome. The reception was throughout marked by the most frantic enthusiasm, even the two gigantic negro mutes at the gate of the Imperial harem--who usually stood with drawn swords motionless as statues--raising their hands to give peace unto the great Ruler of the Soudan. The extensive palace echoed with the sounds of feasting and merry-making. The Ansar fraternised with the Janissaries, the Jihadieh with the Sultan's bodyguards, and the slaves of the Sultan 'Othman with those of the Ruler of the Soudan. The Khalifa, as religious head of the Dervishes and successor of the holy Mahdi, stood upon his "farwa" or white sheepskin, under the shadow of an ilex-tree in the Court of the Eunuchs, and conducted prayers in which all joined. Such was the wild fanaticism and enthusiasm that had prevailed during the firing of salutes that several men had dashed up to the very muzzles of the guns on the walls of the palace and were blown to pieces. The souls of these unfortunate people had, the Khalifa assured us, gone straight to Paradise, there to have their abode among lote-trees free from thorns, and fruitful trees of mauz, under an extended shade near a flowing water in gardens of delight, and every word that fell from his lips was regarded as the utterance of a prophet by the people as they murmured and told their beads. After prayers, when the sura entitled "The Inevitable" had been recited, a great feast was held in the Sultan's sumptuous pavilion. The Khalifa was seated on his Imperial host's right hand, and over five hundred officials and courtiers were present. The dishes upon which the viands were served were of beaten gold, the goblets of chased gold studded with gems, while in the centre of the gilded pavilion a large fountain of crystal diffused a subtle perfume. Behind both the Sultan and his guest stood court tasters, who broke the seal of each dish and ate portions of the food before it was handed to their masters, lest poison should be introduced. After the meal, jugglers entered and performed clever feats of magic, dancing-girls of every tribe under the Sultan's rule performed in turn various terpsichorean feats upon the great mat spread in the centre of the pavilion, and to the loud thumping of derboukas and the plaintive twanging of curiously-shaped stringed instruments, they danced until they sank upon their cushions from sheer exhaustion. These were followed by snake-charmers, wrestlers of herculean strength and story-tellers--the entertainment, which was on the most lavish scale, being continued until, at the going down of the sun, the clear voice of the _mueddin_ was heard droning the _azan_. The leisure at my disposal when, after the shadows lengthened and declined into the glory and vivid charm of the tropical twilight the Khalifa had retired to his private pavilion, I occupied in exploring those parts of the palace to which I had free access. Its vast proportions and its sumptuous decorations and appointments surprised me. When, on the previous occasion, I had passed through its great arcaded courts I was on my way to execution, therefore little opportunity had been afforded to me of ascertaining the full extent of the buildings; but now, in the cool evening hour, as, alone and thoughtful, I strolled under the dark colonnades and across the great open squares with their tall palms, time-worn fountains and wealth of roses, I noted its magnificence. Around me on every side were sounds of revelry--barefooted girls were trilling and quavering, accompanied by noisy tambourines and serannel pipes of abominable discordance and the constant beating of derboukas and the clapping of hands; but holding aloof from my companions, I wandered from court to court in order to obtain a view of the great square tower wherein Azala's chamber was situated. At last, on entering the court where dwelt the serving-men of the Grand Vizier Mahaza, the tower rose high in the gathering gloom. From which of its small, closely-barred lattices had the city been revealed to me? Halting in the garden and looking up at its white walls, I tried in vain to recognise the window of the apartment where Azala had nursed me back to consciousness. Had she, I wondered, lonely and sad, watched from behind the lattice the festivities in the courts below? If so, might she not discern me now, gazing up at her chamber, and by some means or other contrive a meeting! Yet to deceive the watchfulness of the Grand Eunuch and his satellites was impossible. The square wherein I stood was almost deserted, for in the court beyond there was feasting and marissa-drinking among the Janissaries and the Jehadieh, and all had been attracted thither. I must have been standing there, oblivious to my surroundings, a considerable time, for it had grown almost dark, when a voice behind me brought me back to a knowledge of things about me. "Why standest thou here aloof from thy comrades, O friend?" the voice inquired, and on turning quickly I was confronted by a black dwarf, whose face was the most hideous my eyes had ever witnessed, and his crooked stature certainly the smallest. His head, which scarcely reached to my hip, seemed too large for his hump-backed body, while his hands and feet were abnormal. Indeed, his personal appearance was the reverse of prepossessing, even though he was well dressed in an Arab fez and a robe of bright blue silk with yellow sash. His age was difficult to guess. He might have been any age between thirty and fifty, but his thin, squeaking voice suggested senile weakness. His smile increased his ugliness as, perpetually, his eyes, like flaming fire-lances, darted towards me. "The cool air of this thy garden is refreshing after the heat of the desert," I replied in Arabic, as he had addressed me in that language. "But I have been watching thee," the human monstrosity continued, looking up at me as his mouth elongated, showing an even set of white teeth. "While thy fellows have been making merry thou hast been gazing up at yonder lattice? Hast thou seen her?" "Whom dost thou mean?" I inquired, startled that this ugly imp should be aware of my quest. "Affect not ignorance," he said, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. "Thou hast knowledge as full as myself that high up yonder there dwelleth the Lalla Azala, the beauteous daughter of his Majesty." "Well," I said, anxiously, "tell me of her. I know so little." "She hath rescued thee from death, and for many moons hath awaited thy return. She sendeth thee health and peace," he answered, slowly. "But how dost thou know my innermost secrets?" I inquired, regarding the strange, unearthly-looking figure with some suspicion. "Fear not betrayal, O friend," he replied. "I am called Tiamo, _khaddan_ (servitor) of the Lalla Azala, and thy devoted servant. By day and night alike hath her bright eyes sought for sign of thee, for she ascertained, through one of our spies in Omdurman, of thy promotion unto the chieftainship of the Khalifa's body-servants, and knew that thou wouldst accompany him hither." "Art thou bearer of a message from her?" I asked, bending towards him in eagerness. "Yes. Hers is indeed a joyless life. Through the long day hath she stood at her lattice trying in vain to distinguish thee amid the crowds. Yet even now she is most probably standing there, and hath recognised thee. Yea. Behold!" he cried, excitedly. "See! There is the sign?" I strained my eyes upward, and could just distinguish in the darkness something white fluttering from a lattice high up near the summit of the tower. It showed for an instant, then disappeared; but it was sufficient to tell me that I was not forgotten. "Such means of communication are unsafe," the black dwarf growled, as if to himself. "What message bearest thou?" I asked, turning to him and remarking the frown of displeasure that had overspread his hideous countenance. "The One of Beauty hath ordered me to tell thee to wait patiently. She is in sore peril, being so zealously watched by eunuchs and harem-guards that at present she cannot have speech with thee. Wait, and she will communicate with thee when it is safe." "What is the nature of her peril?" I inquired. But the dwarf frowned, glanced up at the little lattice to assure himself that there was no longer a signal there, sighed, and then replied,-- "I am forbidden to tell thee. Rest in the knowledge that Tiamo, her servant and thine, will render thee what assistance thou requirest." "Is the Lalla so carefully guarded that none can approach her?" I asked, as together we moved on into the adjoining court, where the fighting-men were making merry. "Alas!" he answered, "she leadeth a lonely life. Forbidden to enter the great Courts of Enchantment wherein dwell the wives and houris of the Sultan amid every luxury, and where every diversion and gaiety is provided, she is compelled by the Sultan, whom she hath displeased, to live alone with her companions, slaves and waiting-women, in the rooms in yonder tower until such time as she shall be given in marriage." "And shall I see her?" "She is striving toward that end," the dwarf answered briefly, adding, "May thine Allah, who hath created seven heavens, and as many different stories of the earth, keep thee in peace and safety." Gradually I overcame the distrust with which I at first regarded the hideous little pagan. From words he let drop in our subsequent conversation it was evident he was Azala's trusted servant, and was no doubt admitted to her apartments because of his personal deformity and ugliness of countenance. Until near midnight we squatted together in his little den in the Court of the Eunuchs, smoked, drank marissa and chatted; but he was discreet, silent as the Sphinx upon the affairs of his mistress, and to all my questions made the stereotyped reply, "Wait; a message will be conveyed unto thee." Day by day, amid the round of bountiful entertainment, I waited in patience, glancing ever and anon up at the dwelling-place of the woman who besought my aid. Still no message came. Sometimes after the _isha_ had been prayed I met Tiamo, but to all inquiry he remained practically dumb. "The Lalla is still unable to see thee," he always replied, if I expressed surprise that the promised message had not reached me. But he would invariably add a word of hope, expressing regret that circumstances had conspired against us. One night, after superintending the duties of the _mulazimin_, I was crossing the Court of the Grand Vizier when Tiamo hurriedly approached me. By his face I could see that something had occurred, and as he brushed past me in full view of others about him he whispered, "Come to me one hour after midnight." Then he walked on without waiting for me to reply. Punctually at the hour appointed I entered his little den with beating heart. The shutter was closed, therefore we were unobserved. "Hasten. There is but brief space," he exclaimed quickly, and pulling from beneath his divan a blue silk robe and yellow turban similar to those worn by the eunuchs, he added, "Attire thyself in these. The Lalla biddeth thee repair unto her chamber." I obeyed him without doubt or hesitation. "Now, come with me," he said, when at last I had buckled on a scimitar and thrust my feet into slippers of crimson leather, and together we went out into the open court. A deep silence rested on the great palace, broken only by the cool plashing of the fountains in their marble basins. The heavens, blue as a sapphire, were profound and mysterious. Myriads of stars twinkled in the clear depths of the skies, and all objects were defined with a wonderful accuracy in the silver moonlight. The Fada was hushed in sleep. On the marble steps of the Bab-Seadet, the gate of the Imperial harem, the black guards stood on either side, mute, erect, motionless, their naked swords gleaming in the moonbeams. How many scenes of gorgeous festivity had been witnessed beyond that great door of iron! how many terrible and bloody dramas had been enacted within those grim, grey walls--dramas of love and hatred, of ambition, disappointment and revenge, of all the fiercest passions of the human heart! By night and day the bewitching pearls of the harem intrigued, schemed and plotted-- themselves, through their Imperial Master, ruling the world outside. Too often, alas! in the history of the Empire of Sokoto it had occurred that some dark eye, some bewitching face masking a beautiful slave's ignorance and cunning, had mastered her irresponsible and irresistible lord, and been the means of striking off the heads of not only her rivals within the harem, but those of even the wisest councillors and the bravest fighting-men outside. As together we crossed the silent court our echoing footsteps broke the quiet. In the gateway of the harem a single light glimmered yellow in contrast with the white moonbeams; but turning our backs upon it we passed through one court after another, receiving salutes from the guards at each gateway. My disguise as eunuch was complete, and as we strolled onward without apparent haste my confidence grew until, on crossing the Court of the Armourers and entering the Court of the Pages, we discerned a white-robed figure enveloped in a haick and wearing the ugly baggy trousers which are the out-door garments of Moslem women. "Behold!" I exclaimed, with bated breath. "The Lalla Azala awaiteth us!" "No," answered the strange, grotesque being. "It is her mute slave, Ayesha. Place thyself in her hands. She will conduct thee unto her mistress." As we advanced, the woman, whose face I could not distinguish, raised her hand with commanding gesture, and opening a small door beckoned me to follow. This I did, Tiamo remaining behind. Across many courts and through several doors, which the woman carefully bolted after us, we sped until, skirting a pretty garden where pomegranates, almonds, cypresses and myrtles alternated regularly, and roses in full bloom embowered the long alley, we came to a door in a wall near the tower. Having looked well around to see that nobody remarked us, she introduced me into a passage so small that I was compelled to bend to enter it. Taking up a lamp that had apparently been placed there in readiness, she went on before, and I followed through some intricate wanderings; then, instead of ascending, we began to go down a flight of broken stone steps. The air became hot and stifling, and foul odours rose from the place into which we were descending. Suddenly a loud, piercing shriek of pain sounded weirdly, followed by another and yet another. Then I recognised the uneven steps as those leading to the foul dungeon with its maniac prisoners. The rough, exultant laugh of my enemy, Khazneh, reached my ears from below, mingled with the imploring cry of some unfortunate wretch who was undergoing torture. Next second a suspicion flashed across my mind that I had been betrayed. CHAPTER TWELVE. MYSTERIES OF EBLIS. My mute conductress halted, listened intently, then placed her finger significantly on her lips. As she turned her half-veiled face towards me I saw in the flickering lamplight that her tattooed forehead was brown and wizened, that her dark, gleaming eyes were deeply sunken, and that her hand holding the lamp was thin, brown and bony. The sounds that alarmed us ceased, and, after waiting a few moments, scarce daring to breathe, she descended several more stairs to a turn in the flight, and I found myself before a small, black door, which she quickly opened and closed again after we had passed through. Raising her finger to command silence, she moved along a narrow passage and then there commenced a toilsome ascent over great, roughly-hewn steps that I well remembered descending when, in the clutches of my captors, I had been roughly dragged from the apartment of my enchantress. With a nimbleness that showed a familiarity with their unevenness, she mounted, while I stumbled on behind, nearly coming to grief once or twice, and being compelled to save myself with my hands. In my eagerness to meet the woman who had entranced me, upward I toiled, until my breath came and went in short, quick gasps, and I was forced to rest a moment, while she also halted, smiling and turning the lamp towards me. The intricacies of these secret passages were puzzling and fatiguing, and I was anxious to pass into the well-remembered room wherein the Sultan's daughter had, during so many weary moons, awaited me. At last we stood before a door secured by a large iron bar, so heavy that old Ayesha could not draw it from its socket, but quickly I removed the barrier. The slave who had acted as my guide opened the door, drew aside the heavy curtain, and then stepping forward I found myself once again before the bright-eyed girl who desired my aid. The place was dimly illumined by great hanging lamps of gold, which shed a soft and dubious light through cut crystals of green and crimson, and the air was sweetly scented by the odours of musk and cinnamon rising from the perfuming-pans. Azala, pale and beautiful, in her gorgeous harem dress, with arms, ankles and neck laden with jewels, was reclining with languorous grace upon her divan of light blue satin fringed with gold, that was placed in the alcove at the end of the apartment, her wealth of dark hair straying in profusion over the great, tasselled cushion of yellow silk. Her feet, tiny and well-formed, were bare, her pearl-embroidered slippers having been kicked aside, her pipe stood near, and upon a coffee-stool of ebony and gold stood a large silver dish of rare fruit, while kneeling beside her was a black female slave cooling her slowly with a fan of peacock's feathers. Unnoticed by her, I stood for a few seconds, bewitched by her loveliness as she lay there in graceful abandon, her body saturated with perfumes, her soul filled with prayers. "Welcome, O Zafar! Allah favoureth us!" she cried excitedly, springing to her feet the instant she recognised me, and, rushing across, grasping both my hands. "Thou hast brought happiness with thee." "At last, Azala," I said, clasping her soft hands tenderly, and gazing into those brilliant black eyes that seemed to delight in the anxious curiosity which they aroused in my features. "Of a verity Allah is all-powerful and all-merciful. Our destinies are written in the Book, and therefore what is there left but to submit? For many moons have I striven to seek thee, to redeem the pledge I made unto thee, and now at last is our meeting accomplished." Noticing that I looked askance at the presence of Ayesha and the young negress, she waved her hand to them to retire. Then, when the curtains had fallen behind them, she led me slowly to her divan, saying in serious tones, "Come hither, O Zafar, I would have long and serious speech with thee." She having ensconced herself comfortably among her rich, downy cushions, I seated myself beside her, and as one arm stole around her slim waist, encircled by its bejewelled girdle, I drew her tenderly towards me with the intention of imprinting on her white, sequin-covered brow a passionate caress. Gently but firmly she disengaged herself from my embrace. At first the marvellous beauty of my divinity held me spell-bound, but fortified by her smile I found courage to pour out a rhapsody of love and admiration, to which she listened, blushing deeply. Thus, in the bliss of whispering love, we forgot the heavy sorrows oppressing us, and put aside all apprehension for the present and all care for the future. After a recital of my adventures on being torn from her presence, I told her how wearily the hours had passed and of my mad desire to be again at her side, to which she answered,-- "In thee, O Zafar, have I placed my trust. The sun of the favour of the One Merciful shineth upon us, therefore let us abandon all fear." "The firmament possesseth but one sun, and the Empire of Sokoto but one Princess. That life, light, joy and prosperity may attend thee is my most fervent desire." "May perfect peace attend thee in the rose-grove of thine happiness," she answered, turning towards me the most beautiful face that Allah had ever formed. "For many moons have I waited at yonder lattice for thy coming, knowing full well that thou art ready to serve me." "Ay, ready to serve thee, O Pearl of Sokoto," I said fervently. "I love only thee, and am thy slave." She was toying in hesitation with her broad gold armlet that contained a talisman. Spells and charms are believed in as strongly by the ladies of Kano as those of Omdurman. The eye and knuckle-bone of a fox hung upon the neck of a boy gives him courage; its fat rubbed on a woman will convert her husband's love into indifference. The dried liver of a cat is believed to bring back the love of a desired object to the person who possesses it; the skin of its nose, if worn on the ankle, is a preventive against murder by poison; while its ashes, if taken internally, will give all the shrewd, cunning qualities of the cat. The one Azala wore was the _kus kaftar_--a portion of the dried skin of a female leopard one moon old, which always bears the greatest price in the seraglios, because, if worn on the arm, it is believed to conciliate the affections of all to its wearer; and as she fingered it she uttered some kind of incantation that I failed to understand. Her head had fallen back upon the great gold-tasselled pillow, and with her white arm thrown out above she looked up smiling into my face, uttering words of courage, declaring that I was the only man she had ever asked to perform a service. "But," she added, suddenly raising herself into a sitting position and gazing straight into my eyes, "how little--how very little we are thinking of the deadly peril which threateneth us! Both of us are confident in each other's love; but, alas! no safety can there be until the Great Secret be solved." "What secret?" I asked, endeavouring to read her story in her brilliant eyes. "The Secret of the Asps," she answered, in a calm, low tone. "The secret of the strange, mysterious mark that is upon my breast and thine. When it is solved, then only may peace be ours." "Tell me all thou knowest regarding the curious imprint," I said eagerly, lifting her bejewelled hand and pressing it tenderly. "Now that I am thy best beloved, ready to serve thee blindly and implicitly, surely I may know the secret of things concerning both of us," I argued. But with a sigh she answered, "No. Some knowledge hath been conveyed to me upon condition that I should preserve its secret until such time as the mystery shall be elucidated. Suffice it to thee to know that thou art the person to whom the truth may be revealed if thou hast forbearance and courage." "Will any act of mine place about thee the walls of security and the stillness of peace?" I inquired, with eagerness. "Already have I told thee that, if thou wilt, thou canst save me." "From what destiny?" "From one unknown, yet horrible--undecided, yet terrible," she answered, hoarsely. "Then I am thine to command, O Azala," I answered. "In Zafar thou hast a servant who will serve thee with faith and fearlessness, unto even the uttermost ends of the earth." "When the dawn cometh we shall be compelled to part, for full well thou knowest what fate awaiteth thee if thou wert discovered by Khazneh or his brutal myrmidons," she said, slowly. "But ere we bid each other farewell we have much to arrange, for upon the success of our plans dependeth whether our hands again clasp in welcome, or our lips meet in salutation. In receiving thee here I have run many risks in common with thee. If our enemies conveyed word unto the Sultan, assuredly would the vials of his wrath be poured out upon me, and he would execute his threat of giving me in marriage to some common soldier of the palace-guard." "Has his Majesty given utterance to such a threat?" "Yea. Because I fell into the displeasure of Khadidja, the scheming slave who now ruleth the harem as his chief wife, I became banished from the Courts of Enchantment. Indeed, only by the intercession of mine own mother, who hath long ago been deposed from her position of Sultana, and is now a mere slave, compelled to wash the feet of many who once served her, was I spared the indignity of being cast out from the palace and given as drudge to one of the horsemen who guard the Kofa-n-Kura. Indeed, the hand of misfortune hath fallen heavily upon me," and she drew a long sigh, as in deep thought her pointed chin rested in her dainty palm. "What was the nature of thine offence?" I inquired, interested. "Involuntarily I acted as eaves-dropper. One morning, lying in my hammock in a corner of the harem-garden where the rose-bushes grow thickly, I suddenly heard voices beyond. One I recognised as that of Khadidja, and the two others those of Shekerleb and Leilah, Arab slaves. Listening, I heard them discuss in detail an ingenious plot they had arranged to poison my mother, myself and three others, for Khadidja expressed herself determined to be supreme mistress of the seraglio. Appalled by this bold scheme of wholesale revenge, I lay silent, scarce daring to breathe, but when they had left I went straightway to the Sultan and in my mother's presence explained all to him. The woman Khadidja was brought before him, but denied the accusation, swore on the Koran that she had not walked into the garden that morning, and brought Shekerleb and Leilah to corroborate her false statement. My father was convinced of her innocence, and believed also her allegation that a plot hatched by my mother was on foot to encompass her death. He grew angry, degraded my unfortunate mother from her position of Sultana to the meanest slavery, and subsequently banished me to the loneliness of this high abode." "Of a verity thy lot, O beloved, hath been an unhappy one, but let us now look forward to the dawn of a joyous day, to a noonday of prosperity, and to a sunset of peace. Azala, I love thee," and as our lips met for the first time in a hot, passionate kiss, her bare, scented chest, with its profusion of jewels, rose and fell with an emotion she was unable to suppress. In the dead, unbroken silence that followed, the distant roll of a drum, and the cry of the sentinels on the watch-towers at the city gates came up through the silk-curtained lattice, announcing that another hour had passed. "Harken," she cried quickly, springing to her feet, clutching me by the arm, and looking earnestly into my face. "We have but brief space wherein to plan our emancipation. Fearest thou to investigate the mysteries of Eblis, or to serve his handmaiden?" "Fear dwelleth not in mine heart when the Pearl of Sokoto is nigh," I answered gallantly, bending to kiss her hand. "Even though thy Pearl may be daughter of the Evil One, and able to accomplish things superhuman?" she asked, in a strange, harsh voice. "He who believeth in the one Allah and in his Prophet, holdeth in his hand a two-edged sword against the Ghul (Devil) and all the evil spirits of Al-Hawiyat," I replied, surprised at this latter speech, and at the strange, haggard look that had suddenly overspread her beautiful countenance. "At the moment before our enemy Khazneh laid hands upon me, thou didst promise to reveal unto me some hidden marvel, the nature of which thou wouldst not disclose. For that purpose have I come hither, and now await the fulfilment of thy promise." Grasping my right wrist and looking into my face with eyes that seemed to emit fire, so strangely brilliant were they, she said,-- "Hast thou no fear of the future, or of the power of the Evil Eye?" "The curse of Eblis himself shall not deter me from seeking to fathom the Mystery of the Asps. A voice that is dead hath commanded me, and I shall obey, even though I am compelled to engage Azrael in single combat. There is some strange secret in the mystic links that bind our existence--a secret I intend to discover at any hazard." "Bravely spoken, O Zafar," she answered, her cheeks flushing with excitement and her sequins tinkling musically as she moved. "Thine heart is true as thy trusty Masser blade. May it be the will of Allah, who made the earth for a carpet, that thy courage never fail thee in thine attempt to rescue me from the plots that encompass me, and to penetrate the veil that hath so long hidden the truth of the entwined serpents." She raised her face with a fond, wistful look. Our lips met, and with her arms about my neck she clung to me, trembling, as if in fear. Then, fortifying herself for an effort, she slowly withdrew from my embrace, and led me across to the heavily-curtained door of the inner chamber, saying,-- "Thou hast declared thyself fearless and undaunted in the coming fight to possess the secret which none may know, even though it is imperative that thou shouldst pass barriers hitherto considered by all insurmountable. Truly thou art worthy a woman's love." "Thou knowest how the unquenchable fire of love burneth within me, O light of mine eyes," I answered, in fervent adoration. "With thee as the sun of my firmament, and with a stout heart within me, I am not afraid." For answer she turned, and with her hand upon the curtain, said,-- "Come hither. As a preliminary to thine encounter with the Invisible, I will reveal unto thee an undreamed of marvel that will cause thine eyes to open wide in wonderment, and thine heart to cease its beating. Fear abideth not within thee. Enter therefore this portal whereat Malec, powerful yet invisible, mounteth guard, and learn the means by which the Mystery of the Asps may be unravelled." CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE PRISM OF DESTINY. With sudden movement she drew aside the silken curtain, and we stepped into a small, dark, stone chamber, almost a cell. Then with a word of warning she guided my footsteps to a narrow flight of stairs, which she descended with caution, her golden anklets jingling as she went. As I followed, there clung about her soft draperies those sweet perfumes of the harem, the fragrance of which had intoxicated me. Again she flung back a second heavy curtain that barred a horse-shoe arch at the foot of the stairs, when instantly my eyes were blinded by a flood of brilliant light. Under my feet I felt a carpet so thick that my slipper sank deep into it, and gradually as my dazzled vision grew accustomed to the unusual glare, I realised that I was in a chamber about the size of the one we had just quitted, but decorated entirely in bright green, the hue of which, reflected into Azala's anxious countenance, gave her a complexion pallid and ghastly. The walls and ceiling were painted green, with good counsels from the Koran in long, lean letters of darker shade, the divans and cushions were of green silk, the stools of malachite, the large alcoves at the end fashioned from dark green marble, beautifully carved, while a malachite table, shaped like a crescent, near the end of the apartment, was studded with huge green crystals that glittered in the light like emeralds. The effect was weird and startling, for the bright white light came from a thousand lamps cunningly arranged overhead, while screens of glass, the colour of the deep sea, shot from the walls slanting beams of brilliant green. The place was luxurious, yet, as I gazed around it, I could not repress a shudder. "Go! Take thine ease upon yonder divan," Azala said in a strange voice, pointing to the great couch within the alcove, and as I obeyed her, she took from her arm the gold band with its talisman of leopard's skin and handed it to me. Apparently she dare not wear it there. Standing in the centre of the curious chamber, she clapped her hands loudly, and instantly a curtain opposite was drawn aside, and there appeared the ugly, hunchbacked form of the grinning dwarf, Tiamo, followed by two female Arab slaves handsomely dressed in tissue of white and gold, and wearing long strings of talismans, and embroidered bags containing mysterious powders, cabalistic figures, and prayers in the language of Maghrib. The trio, advancing, knelt before their mistress, and with a murmured blessing kissed her feet, prostrating themselves before her. "Rise," she commanded, almost breathless with excitement. "Know ye that in one brief hour the dawn will show in the direction of the holy city. Speed therefore on the wings of haste and execute my will." "We, thy slaves, obey thee, O Mistress," they answered with one accord, and, rising, disappeared for a few moments. The two girls presently came forth bearing between them a huge golden bowl full of some sweet yet pungent perfume, which they set on a tripod upon the table of green malachite while Tiamo produced a small golden brazier which he lit and placed beneath the bowl. Then the girls produced green-painted derboukas, and seating themselves upon the mats at the horns of the crescent-shaped table, commenced a monotonous thumping on their drums, while the hideous dwarf, grinning from ear to ear, beat a rapid tattoo upon a double tambourine or _kalango_, all three chanting a weirdly-intoned accompaniment. The curious spectacle held me on the tiptoe of expectation, for while the music was continued with a regularity that quickly became monotonous, Azala stood with her bejewelled hands outstretched over the bowl, repeating some words in the Hausa tongue which I could not understand. Her face had now grown deathly pale; surrounding her eyes were large, dark rings that betrayed the terrible anxiety at her heart. As the golden bowl became heated, the colourless liquid perfume gave off a vapour so pungent that it caused water to well in my eyes and my head to swim as if I had drunk marissa too freely. I was afraid to rise to my feet lest I should stagger and fall, so upon the edge of the divan I sat entranced and fascinated. The brighter the brazier grew the more dimly burned the lamps above until the brilliant light vanished and we remained in a semi-darkness, made brighter now and then by the uncertain flicker of the fire. Emerald crystals everywhere in ceiling and walls flashed like jewels with a bright green brilliance each time the flames shot up, producing a weird and dazzling effect, while in the shadow Azala prostrated herself, uttering an appeal to some power unseen. Eagerly I watched the next development of this remarkable experiment. Suddenly the woman I loved struggled to her feet and with her right forefinger touched the edge of the steaming bowl. As she did this, a bright flash, blinding as lightning, shot through the chamber, causing the music to cease and the slaves, awe-stricken, to bow their heads until their brows touched the carpet. "Malec, iron-hearted Janitor of Hell, hath been overthrown!" they exclaimed, in voices hushed in fear. Again was the flash repeated as Azala's hand touched the edge of the bowl of repousse gold, and the slaves gasped in Arabic,-- "Lo! the Guardian of Al-Hawiyat is vanquished by the sword of Eblis!" Then, a third time my eyes became dazzled by the sudden brilliance which apparently proceeded from the great basin of perfume, and the slaves lifted their voices, saying,-- "The Pillars of Hell have indeed fallen!--the sword of Eblis is sheathed, and Malec, trembling, hath hidden his dog's face before the incomparable beauty of her Highness, the Lalla Azala!" Tiamo, whom Azala addressed as El-Sadic (the Sincere), rose at the bidding of his mistress. With her hand pressed to her heart, as if to stay its wild beating, she stood close to me with her face upturned and her lips moving as if invoking the aid of some unseen power. "Behold!" she cried, with a suddenness that caused me to start. "Behold, the Prism of Destiny!" And as the words fell from her white, trembling lips, there was a wild noise like the rushing of great waters, and a circular portion of the wall of the chamber directly opposite appeared to fall asunder, disclosing a huge gold ring, within which, placed perpendicularly, was a large crystal prism, the length of a man's body, which, as it revolved in its setting, showed all the gorgeous hues of the spectrum with a rapidity that was bewildering. Azala, standing motionless, gazed at it, while the slaves remained kneeling with eyes riveted upon it in fear and expectation. Propelled by some unseen agency, it revolved noiselessly within its golden circle, emitting shafts of multi-coloured light that illumined parts of the strange chamber, leaving the remainder in deepest shadow. Gradually, however, the speed with which the great crystal turned slackened, and Azala, advancing towards me, placed her hand lightly upon my shoulder, exclaiming in a low, intense tone,-- "Lo! that which we sought is revealed! Behold! before us is the forbidden Prism of Destiny, into which none may gaze without incurring the displeasure of the One Merciful, and the curse of Eblis the Terrible." The lights flashing full upon my face seemed to enthral my senses, for her words sounded distant, discordant and indistinct. But a sudden exclamation of hers aroused me. "See!" she cried, pointing to the three-sided crystal. "Its motion steadies! It mirrors life in its wondrous depths, but those who dare discern their future ofttimes pay the penalty of their folly by being struck with blindness, and ignominy attendeth them. Allah, though merciful, is just, and it is written in the Book of Everlasting Will that we may know nought of the hereafter, save what holy writ teacheth us." "But how is the extraordinary effect produced?" I asked, marvelling greatly at the curious chimera, for though it appeared but a phantom, the prism actually revolved, and the illusion could not be caused by reflected light, as I at first had been inclined to believe. "By offering sacrifice to Eblis," she answered, looking into my eyes, an intoxicating gaze of promise, triumph, tenderness. On her lips dawned a smile which was pledge of the future--the future all light, all hope, all love. Then, pointing to the boiling bowl, she said, "He giveth sight of it to those of his slaves and handmaidens who invoke his aid." "Art thou actually one of his handmaidens?" I gasped in fear, amazed to observe that her beauty seemed to gradually fade, leaving her face yellow, care-lined and withered. "I am," she answered in a deep, discordant voice. "Once before, after thou wert taken from me, the Prism of Destiny made its revelation. The temptation to gaze therein proved too great, and, alas! I fell." "What didst thou discern?" I eagerly inquired, my eyes still fixed in fascination upon the mysterious, rotating crystal, my senses gradually becoming more than ever confused. "I pierced the impenetrable veil of futurity." "And what manner of things were revealed?" "I beheld many marvels," she answered, in a slow, impressive voice. "Marvels that thou, too, canst behold if thou darest brave the wrath." She spoke so earnestly, fixing her searching eyes upon me, that I felt my courage failing. The constant flashing of brilliant colours in my eyes seemed to unnerve me, throwing me into a kind of helpless stupor, in which my senses became frozen by the ghastly mysteries practised before me. It was this feeling of helplessness that caused my heart to sink. "Didst thou not declare thou wouldst engage Malec in single combat in thine endeavour to fathom the Secret of the Asps?" she observed, half reproachfully. "Yet thine hand quivereth like the aspen, and thou carest not to seek the displeasure consequent upon such an action." Erect, almost statuesque, she stood before me, pale and of incomparable beauty, holding my sun-browned hand in hers. "Hearken, O Azala," I cried, struggling with difficulty to my feet, and passing my hand across my aching brow to steady the balance of my brain. "No man hath yet accused Zafar-Ben-A'Ziz of cowardice. If, in order to seek the key to the mystery of the strange marks we both bear, it is imperative that I should gaze into yonder crystal, then I fear nought." "It is imperative," she stammered. "If it were not, I, of all persons, would not endeavour to induce thee to invoke the curse upon thyself." "Then let me gaze," I said, and with uneven steps went forward, my hand in hers, to where the great prism had so miraculously appeared. It was moving very slowly, the only light in the chamber being that emitted from its triangular surfaces, and as I halted before it my head reeled with a strange sensation of dizziness I had never before experienced. Aloud the prostrate slaves cried,-- "O Malec, Angel of Terror, vanquished by a woman's beauty, let the eyes of this friend of thy conqueror witness the sight which is forbidden, so that he may drink of the fountain of truth, and repose in the radiance of her countenance." Tiamo was thumping his _kalango_ and grinning hideously. Bewildered, and only half-conscious of my surroundings, I felt Azala dragging me forward. Though the objects swam around me and I had a curious sensation as if I were treading on air, I advanced to within an arm's length of the slowly-moving prism. My eyes were cast down to the green carpet, for in the sudden terror that had seized me I feared to look. "Speak!" cried Azala, in a voice that seemed afar off. "What beholdest thou?" But no answer passed my lips. "Gaze long and earnestly, O Zafar, so that the image of things revealed may be graven upon the tablets of thy memory for use for our well-being hereafter," she urged in a voice sounding like the distant cry of a night-bird. The thought of her peril flashed in an instant across my unbalanced mind. Her appeal, I remembered, was for our mutual benefit, in order that I should be enabled to elucidate the Mystery of the Asps and bring peace upon her. What, I wondered, was the nature of this strange revelation which she herself had already witnessed. Ashamed at this terror that branded me as coward, and determined to strive towards the solution of the remarkable mystery that bound me in a bond of love to the beautiful daughter of the Sultan, I held my breath and slowly raised my head. Next second my heart stood still as, fascinated in amazement and aghast in horror, I gazed deep into the prism's crystal depths, where an omination, wondrous and entrancing, met my eyes. There was indeed revealed unto me a marvel of which I had not dreamed. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. A SIGN AFAR. The movement of the huge crystal was so slow as to be almost imperceptible, but the kaleidoscope of life and movement it presented held me spell-bound. By this strange combination of dactyliomancy with christallomantia, an effect was produced so amazing and unaccountable that my wondering vision became riveted upon it, as gradually my mind cleared of the chaotic impression it had received. The reflecting surfaces, turned at various angles to my line of sight, presented in their unsullied transparency a specular inversion of figures and scenes that, ere they took clearly-delineated shape, dissolved and faded, to be succeeded by others of a totally different character. Objects and persons with whom I seemed to have been familiar in my youth in the far-off Aures passed before my gaze in bewildering confusion. Ere I could recognise them, however, they disappeared, phantom-like, giving place to a series of pictures of the terrors of battle, so vividly portrayed that they held me overawed. The first showed a beautiful court, evidently the private pavilion of some potentate, with cool arcades, plashing fountains, tall palms and trailing vines. But the place had been assaulted and ignominiously fallen. The courts sacred to the women were full of armed, dark-skinned men, who, with brutal ruthlessness, were tearing from the "pearls of the harem" their jewels, and with wanton cruelty massacring them even as I gazed. Over the pavements of polished jasper, blood flowed, trickling into the great basin of the fountain, and as one after another the houris fell and died, a fierce red light shone in the sky, showing that the barbarous conquerors, intoxicated with blood and loot, had fired the palace. Then in the dense smoke that curled from out the arcades as they were enveloped and destroyed, the scene of merciless slaughter and ruthless destruction was lost, and there gradually evolved scenes of burning desert, of welcome oases, of great and wonderful cities, all of which grew slowly and were quickly lost. Just at that moment, however, a sound behind me caused me to start, and turning, I saw that the dwarf, who had risen noiselessly, had witnessed the magic pictures as well as ourselves. On seeing that his inquisitiveness had been detected, he turned quickly, rejoined his fellow-slaves, and fell again upon his knees, raising his voice in the strange incantation the girls continued to repeat. Apparently Azala did not notice him; too engrossed was she in the revelations of the prism, for when I again gazed into the crystal, objects and persons were passing in rapid confusion, and she was vainly endeavouring to decipher their mysterious import. For a second we saw the face of a beautiful woman with hair like golden sheen, and were both amazed to discover that in place of rows of sequins she wore a single ornament suspended upon her white, unfurrowed brow. Apparently it was carved from a single diamond of enormous size and exceeding lustre, but its shape puzzled us; it was fashioned to represent a curious device of arrow-heads. Quickly the mysteriously-beautiful face dissolved, and from its remains there came in rapid succession pictures of a mighty city, of a great plain, of running water, of a seething populace, and of a cool garden rich in flowers and fruit. Then there appeared a vision so ghastly and gruesome that I drew back in horror. It represented a pavement of polished marble, whereon a woman was stretched dead, mutilated by the keen scimitar of a black eunuch of giant stature, who with his foot upon the lifeless body gazed down, grinning with satisfaction at his own brutality. The face of the man startled me. The hideous countenance, on which revenge was so strongly depicted, was that of our mutual enemy, Khazneh, Chief of the Black Eunuchs of his Imperial Majesty! "Enough!" cried Azala, horrified at what seemed a revolting augury of her own end. "See! the brute hath struck off her head!" And shuddering, she gazed around the apartment with a look of abject terror, her haggard features in that moment becoming paler and more drawn. "Heed it not as ill-potent," I said, smoothing her hair tenderly, and endeavouring to remove from her mind the horrifying thought that she might fall under the _doka_ of the Grand Eunuch. "The mystic Prism of Destiny showeth much that is grim, distorted and fantastic. The eventuality is only resolved so that we may arm ourselves against the Destroyer." But, apprehensive of her fate, she shook her head sorrowfully, saying in low, harsh tones, "When on the previous occasion I gazed into the prism a similar scene was conjured up before me, only the woman was then at his knees imploring mercy, while he, with _doka_ uplifted, laughed her to scorn. Now, see the end! Her head hath fallen!" Again I turned to ascertain what next might be shown in the revolving crystal, the mystery of which was ever-increasing, but it had ceased to move. Eagerly I bent, gazing into its green, transparent depths in order to discover whether the strange scenes were mere optical illusions. Only for a second was I permitted to gaze, but in that brief moment suspicion seized me that I had been imposed upon. Whether Azala actually believed that forecasts of the future could be witnessed in the crystal, or whether she was only striving to impress me by regaling me with an exhibition of the mystical, in which all women of her race delight, I know not; but I was sceptical and became convinced that the pictures had been conjured up by mechanical contrivance, and that the illusions--probably the stock-in-trade of some court necromancer--were performed by ingenious but hidden paintings or tableaux. By this discovery I was much perturbed, for it was remarkable that, on witnessing the scenes, Azala's surprise and agitation were natural and unfeigned, and this act led me to the conclusion that, believing in spells and amulets, she was also ready to place faith in any extraordinary marvel that she might gaze upon. It was common knowledge, I remembered, that the women of Sokoto were extremely superstitious, believing as implicitly in the sayings of their astrologers as we, of the North, believe in the efficacy of representations of the hand of Fathma of Algiers nailed over our doors to avert the Evil Eye. Was this chamber the sanctum of some seer whose duty it was to forecast the good or evil fortune of the doves of the harem? I turned, and was about to address to her some question directed towards fathoming the secrets of this cunningly-contrived instrument of psychomancy, when suddenly she drew aside the curtain from a lattice near, uttering an exclamation of mingled surprise and dismay. Rushing towards her, I looked out, and the sight riveted my gaze in abject amazement. The dawn had already spread with delicate tints of pink and rose, but in the northern sky a strange, inverted picture was presented with such clearness and vividness of outline that every detail is still as fresh in my mind as it was at the moment I witnessed it. The picture was produced not by the chicanery of any necromancer, but by Nature herself. It was that strange, puzzling illusion--the mirage. So weird and wonderful was it that, even though I had seen many similar pictures in the heavens during my journeys over the plains, I gave an involuntary exclamation of amazement. As we gazed away beyond the city, across the sandy desert, the aerial tableaux mirrored above appeared to be the reflection of a flat, black rock of colossal dimensions, rising high and inaccessible like a wall, and descending sheer into dark, deep water, upon the surface of which its gloomy image was reflected as in a mirror. The spot, weird and lonely, was devoid of every vestige of herbage or any living thing, and as I looked upon it in wonderment, impressed by its weirdness, Azala suddenly grasped my arm, exclaiming excitedly,-- "Behold! that black pool! See, it is the Lake of the Accursed! Many times hath its image been revealed unto us in the sky. Remark it carefully, for of a verity am I convinced that in this vision we have a key to the Secret. At that spot must thou search if thou desirest to fathom the mystery." My eyes took in every detail of the ineffably dismal picture, the great, inhospitable face of dark granite seemingly so smooth that an eagle could scarce obtain a foothold, its rugged summit with one pointed crag, like a man's forefinger, pointing higher than the rest towards the dark, lowering clouds that seemed to hang about it, and the Stygian blackness of the stagnant water at its gigantic base. But its sight told me nothing, for it was the reflected image of a scene I had never before gazed upon, a scene so unutterably dismal and dispiriting that I doubted whether any clue could there be found. Cloud-pictures are of such frequent occurrence at Kano that it is known among the desert tribes as "The City of the Mirage." For a few moments the sky remained the mirror of this mystic picture; then gradually it faded into air. When it had entirely disappeared, Azala, uttering no word, drew the curtain again before the lattice as at the same instant Tiamo and the two slaves rose, bowing before their mistress. With quick, impatient gesture she motioned to them to leave, and I, marvelling greatly at the strange religio-magic and extraordinary mirage I had witnessed, followed her through the open curtain and up the stairs back to her own sweetly perfumed apartment. But in that moment there occurred to me the solemn declaration I had so often heard in the mosque: "Whoso taketh Eblis for his patron beside Allah, shall surely perish with a manifest destruction." CHAPTER FIFTEEN. TALES OF THE STORY-TELLERS. In her own chamber, Azala, tottering towards her divan, sank upon it exhausted, while I, grasping her hand, stood by in rigid silence, not daring to speak. As upon her cushion she was lying, one arm beneath her head, I watched the flush of health mount to her countenance, and her beauty gradually return. She opened her eyes, and as she gazed into mine long and steadily, I told myself that she was nothing like any other daughter of man. Those glorious orbs under their great curved brows shone upon me like suns under triumphal arches. The idea of holding her in my arms brought me a fury of rapture; she held me bound by an unseen chain. It seemed as though she had become my very soul, and yet for all that there flowed between us the invisible waves of an ocean without bounds. She, the daughter of the Sultan, was remote and inaccessible. The splendour of her beauty diffused around her a nebula of light, and I found myself believing at moments that she was not before me--that she did not really exist--that it was all a dream. She moved, the diamonds on her heaving bosom shining resplendently, and raising herself slowly to a sitting posture, asked in a low, intense tone,-- "Now that thou hast gazed into the Prism of Destiny and witnessed the sign in the heavens, fearest thou to penetrate further the veil of evil that surroundeth us?" "Already have I spoken, O Pearl among Women. I fear not to speak the truth," I answered, yet half inclined to scoff at the pictures shown in the prism. Yet the distinctness of the gloomy mirage had impressed me, and I refrained from saying anything to give her pain. "Then thou must of necessity seek the spot, the image of which hath been revealed," she said, and motioning me to a cushion near her, added, "Take thine ease for short space, and lend me thine ear." Drawing the cushion closer to her, I seated myself, my hand still clasping hers; then, with a slight sigh, she gazed into my face with a look of earnest passion and continued,-- "The great rock and the black water in combination answereth with exactness to the description of the Lake of the Accursed which none has found, but which existeth in the legends of our people, and hath long been discussed by our wise men. It is said that the Rock of the Great Sin, rising sheer and inaccessible from the unfathomable waters, formeth the gate of the Land of the No Return, the unknown country which none can enter nor leave, and upon which human eyes have never gazed. Our story-tellers oft repeat the popular belief that the Lake of the Accursed hideth an unknown, but amazing wonder, although for centuries our armies and our caravans have travelled far and wide over the face of the earth, yet none has discovered it. By the fact of its image being thrice revealed in the sky, I am convinced that if its whereabouts could be discovered, we should find that which we seek." "But apparently it existeth only in the sayings of thy wise men," I observed, dubiously. "The descriptions of it all agree, even though the versions, which the story-tellers relate as to its origin, may differ," she answered, her eyes appearing to penetrate far away in the distance beyond terrestrial space. "Those of the tribe of Zamfara assert that ages ago, in the face of the Rock of the Great Sin, there was a large and deep cavern whence issued a black and unwholesome vapour, and men feared to approach because it was the gate of the Land of the No Return. It was the continual resort of a huge serpent, whose bite was fatal, who zealously guarded the gloomy portals of the forbidden land, and who swallowed his victims; but once a man of lion courage dared to escape while the serpent slept, and successfully got away, while, in the heat of noon, the Great Devourer closed his eyes. The serpent, however, awoke in time to see the adventurer flying across the desert, but too late to kill him. Then, in a paroxysm of rage that mortal man should have eluded his vigilance, he smote the rock thrice with his tail, when, with a noise like thunder, the cavern closed, and about it was formed the deep, black pool known as the Lake of the Accursed, which has ever since rendered it unapproachable. Such is the story most popular among our people, although there are some others, notably that of the Kanouri, who declare that, far back in the dim ages, before the days of the Prophet, a great host of one of the Pagan conquerors of Ethiopia was on its way to penetrate into an unknown region where the presence of man had already been forbidden by the gods. When, having crossed the desert many days, they were at last about to enter the fruitful land to despoil it, the earth suddenly opened and devoured them, leaving in their place the Accursed Lake with the great rock as a terrible warning to future generations who might be seized with a desire to gain knowledge and riches withheld from them." "Do all the versions agree that the Rock of the Great Sin is the gate of a region unknown?" I asked, intensely interested in these quaint beliefs of the storytellers. "Yes. In the harem ofttimes have I heard slaves of the tribes of Zara, Boulgouda and of Digguera each relate their version, and all coincide that the rock was at one period a gate which gave entrance to a forbidden land. Some say there lieth behind the rock Al-Hotama, [an apartment in hell, so called because it will break into pieces whatever is thrown into it], where the kindled fire of Allah mounteth above the hearts of those cast therein, the dreaded place which the Koran telleth us is as an arched vault on columns of vast extent wherein the dwellers have garments of fire fitted unto them. Others believe that beyond the Lake of the Accursed there lieth the gardens into which Allah introduceth those who believe and act righteously, the Land of Paradise through which rivers flow, where the great lote-tree flourisheth, and where the dwellers are adorned with bracelets of gold and pearls, and their vestures are of silk. All are in accord that the land beyond is the Land of the No Return." "And thou desireth me to set forth in search of this legendary spot which no man hath yet discovered?" I said. "To elucidate the mystery of the marks we bear will be to thine own benefit, as well as to mine," she answered, gazing into my eyes with a look of affection. "Thou, an Arab by birth but a Dervish by compulsion, art the enemy of my race, and peradventure had thy companions not been slaughtered by my guards thine hosts would have ere this occupied Kano and looted this our palace. Yet we love each other, though I am a disgraced outcast from the harem, in peril of my life--" "Why art thou in such deadly peril? Thou has not explained to me," I interrupted. "My death or marriage would secure the position of Khadidja, my mother's rival, as Sultana. Therefore there are intrigues on foot to take my life by violent but secret means." "Or peradventure thy marriage?" I suggested. "Alas!" she said quickly, smiling with sadness. "Didst thou not witness in the prism the decree of Fate? Sooner or later I shall fall beneath the sword of my secret enemy." "Nay, nay," I said, entwining my arm about her white neck and drawing her towards me. "Anticipate not foul assassination, but seek Allah's aid, and bear courage while I strive." "I trust thee, Zafar," she murmured, in a soft voice, with tears in her eyes. "I trust in thee to extricate me from the perils that surround me like a cloud on every side." "Lovest thou me fondly enough to marry?" I asked in intense earnestness, holding both her hands and looking into her clear, bright orbs. "Of a verity I do," she answered, blushing. "Then how can we wed?" I asked. "I am, alas! but poor, and to ask of the Sultan for thee would only be the smiting off of mine own head, for already hath he forbidden me to set foot within his Empire on pain of instant death." "It is but little I know concerning the Mystery of the Asps, beyond the legend that the key to the secret lieth hidden at the Rock of the Great Sin, the whereabouts of which no man knoweth; nevertheless, I am convinced that if thou canst penetrate its true meaning thou wilt not find the Sultan implacable." "His Majesty feareth the sight of the mark upon me," I said, reflectively. "Knowest thou the reason?" She hesitated for a few moments, as if reluctant to explain, then replied,-- "I know not." "Dost thou promise to wed me if I am successful in my search after the truth?" I asked, pressing her tiny hand in mine. "Zafar," she answered, in a low tone, full of tenderness, as she clung to me, "I love no other man but thee. My father's hatred standeth between us, therefore we must wait, and if in the meantime thine efforts to obtain knowledge of the meaning of the marks upon our breasts are successful, then most assuredly will the Sultan give me unto thee in marriage and rejoice thee with abundant favours." Raising my right hand, I answered, "It is written upon the stone that Allah is the living one. If a man prove obstinate, woe unto him. I swear upon our Book of Everlasting Will to strive while I have breath towards the elucidation of the mystery." Tightening her grasp upon my hand with her bejewelled fingers, she said, "I also take oath that during thine absence no man shall enter my presence. Whithersoever thou goest there shall also accompany thee my blessing, which shall be as a torch in the darkness of night, and thy guide in the brightness of day. Strive on with fearless determination; strive on, ever remembering that one woman's life is at stake, and that that woman is Azala, thy Beloved. Peace be upon thee." "By mine eyes I am thy slave," I said. "My ear is in thine hand; whatever thou ordainest I am bound to obey without doubt or hesitation. No other word need be said. I will go wherever thou commandest, were it even to fetch Malec himself from the innermost chambers of the world beneath." "Be it so," she exclaimed, smiling, fingering her necklet of charms. "When thou hast discovered that which thou seekest, then, misfortune will take its leave, and a new chapter in the book of thy life will open. Of a verity thy thirst shall be slaked by cooling draughts of the waters of Zemzem, thou shalt become clothed in the burnouse of honour, armed with the hand of power, and mounted on the steed of splendour." "And become the husband of the Pearl of Sokoto," I added, caressing her with passionate fondness in the ecstasy of love. She laughed, glancing at me with roguish raillery, her finger at her lips. Then she answered, "That is the summit of earthly happiness towards which I am striving." But her scented bosom rose and fell in a long sigh as she added: "Without thee the days are dull and dreary, and the nights interminable. From my lattice I gaze upon the palace courts and the great city full of life and movement, in which I am not permitted to participate, and think of thy freedom; for though daughter of the Sultan, I am as much a prisoner as any unfortunate wretch in the dungeons deep below. Thou art free, free to travel over the deserts and the mountains in search of a key to the strange enigma; free to strive towards my rescue and the fulfilment of my heart's desire; free to gain that knowledge which, peradventure, may make thee honoured and esteemed among men. Here will I await thy coming, and each day while thou art absent, at the going down of the sun will I pray unto Allah, who setteth his sign in the heavens, to shield thee with his cloak, and place in thine hands the two-edged sword of conquest." "Assuredly will I speed on the wings of haste to do thy bidding," I answered, looking deep into the depths of her wonderful eyes as I knelt beside her with one arm around her neck and her fair head pillowed upon my breast. "At the _maghrib_ each day will I think of thee, and whether in the desert or the forest, in the oasis or the city, I will send unto thee a message of love and peace upon the sunset zephyr." "My lattice shall be opened always at the call of the _mueddin_," she said, "and thy words of comfort will be borne in unto me by the desert wind. I shall know that, wherever thou art, thou thinkest at that hour of me, and we will thus exchange mute, invisible confidences in each other's love." I looked at her a moment, dazed, then, rising slowly to my feet, seized her hands, asking, "When shall I set forth?" "Thy journey must be prosecuted with all dispatch. Tarry not, or misfortune may overtake us both," she answered, raising herself, and sitting upon her divan with her tiny feet and gold-bangled ankles stretched out against the lion's skin spread upon the floor of polished porphyry. "Ere the sun appeareth above the Hills of Guetzaoua thou must pass out of the Kofa-n-Kura on the first stage of thy journey. Outside the city gate thou wilt find a swift camel with its bags ready packed, awaiting thee in charge of one of my male slaves. Mount, and hasten from the city lest thy departure be detected." "As chief of the Khalifa's _mulazimin_ I am liable to be overtaken and brought back," I said. "Therefore I must speed quickly away, avoiding the route of the caravans, for if I am missed I shall assuredly be tracked. In what direction shall I prosecute my quest!" "Alas! I cannot tell," she answered, shaking her head with sorrow. "The Zamfara declare that the Rock of the Great Sin lieth far beyond the land of the rising sun, while the Boulgouda contend that the gloomy spot is situate away in the deep regions of the afterglow. But Allah directeth not the unjust. Towards the pole-star it cannot be, for already our fighting-men have spread themselves over the land and have not discovered it, whereas on the other hand our wise men say it must be beyond the impenetrable forests of the far-distant south. Travel, therefore, not towards the north, but cross the great desert into the distant lands, and make diligent inquiry among the Pagan dwellers in the regions unknown, for by trusting unto Fortune thou mayest find that for which thou searchest. Necessity is as a strong rider with stirrups like razors, who maketh the sorry jade do that which the strong horse sometimes will not do, therefore be of good cheer, and by recourse to thine own ingenuity endeavour to gain swiftly the grim portals of the Land of the No Return." "Then thou canst give me absolutely no clue to its position?" I said, puzzled, for I had expected that at least she would be able to tell me in which direction the finger of popular belief pointed. "No. The different versions held by the story-tellers are all conflicting, regarding its position. Its whereabouts is an absolute mystery." Then, placing her hand beneath the silken cushion whereon she had been reclining, she drew forth a bag of gold, adding, "Take this, for assuredly thou wilt require to give backsheesh unto the people of the far-distant lands thou wilt visit." But I motioned her to keep the money, saying,-- "Thanks to the liberality of my master, the Khalifa, I have at present enough for my wants, and some to spare, concealed within my belt. If, on my return, I am unsuccessful and penurious then will I borrow of thee." "To show me favour, wilt thou not accept it, in order to pay those who perform service for thee?" she asked with a sweet, winning smile. "Nay," I replied, with pride. "What payments I make, I shall willingly bear myself. Keep thy gold until we again meet, which, if Allah be merciful, will be ere many moons have faded. Let thy life be happy, thou, who art all in all to me! dawn of my day! star of my night! sweet one rose of my summer!" "Assuredly thou art brave and true, O Zafar," she said, tossing the bag of gold aside, and looking up at me. "Thou hast, in blind confidence of me, undertaken without fear a task which through ages men have continued to prosecute without success. Sages have long ago relinquished their efforts as futile, yet thou darest to face Malec himself, nay, even to fight Eblis, because thou lovest me and desirest that I should become thy wife. If thine heart retainest its lion's courage, then I have presage that thine efforts will ultimately lead thee unto the rose-garden of happiness." "With thoughts of thee, O Azala, nought can daunt me. Those who offer me opposition will I crush even like vipers," I said gallantly, and as she rose with slow grace to her feet, I clasped her in fond embrace. "If I falter," I continued, "drown my soul in the vapour of thy breath; let my lips be crushed in kissing thine hands." But she answered, "I love thee, O Zafar; I will marry only thee," pressing her hot lips to mine fiercely. My arm was about her slim, gold-begirt waist, and the contact shook me to the depths of my soul. We murmured vague speeches, lighter than breezes, and savoury as kisses. In this parting I became impelled towards her, and with dilated nostrils inhaled the sweet perfumes exhaled from her breast, from which rose an indefinable emanation of musk, jasmine and roses, which filled my senses and held me entranced. In silence we stood locked in each other's arms. Upon her soft white cheek I rained kisses, as she cast her arms about my neck, sobbing her fill upon my breast. I tried to utter words of comfort, but they refused to pass my lips; my heart was too full for mere words. Thus we stood together, each bearing the strange imprint, the mystic meaning of which it had been the desire of all our lives to elucidate, each determined to fathom a mystery mentioned by wise men only with bated breath, and each fearing failure, knowing, alas! too well its inevitable result would be unhappiness and death. "Fear and hope have sent me mad," I said. "Sweet, sweetest, dry those tears--let me kiss them away--smile again; thou art the sun that lights my world. Think! I have dreamed of thee as winter dreams of spring! Think, my love and thine idea have grown like leaf and flower." At last, with supreme effort, she stifled her sobs and dried her eyes, remaining in silence and murmuring now and then fervent blessings upon me. For some moments the quiet had been unbroken, when, like a funeral wail, the sound of distant voices came up through the lattice, followed by the dismal howling of a hundred dogs. "Hearken!" she gasped in sudden fear, disengaging herself from my embrace, as, dashing across to the window, she drew the hangings quickly aside, admitting the morning sun. "The _mueddin_ have announced the sunrise! Already hast thou tarried too long. It is imperative that thou shouldst fly, lest our plans be thwarted by thine arrest. Fly! Remember what the Koran saith. Whatever is in heaven and earth singeth praise unto Allah; and he is mighty and wise. He is the first and the last, the manifest and the hidden; and he knoweth all things. He is with thee wheresoever thou art; for Allah seeth that which thou doest." I placed my arms about her and again clasped her to my breast in final embrace, uttering a passionate declaration of love, and drinking her whole soul through her lips as sunlight drinks the dew. Her great beauty intoxicated me; I stood in an invincible torpor as if I had partaken of some strange potion. How long we remained thus I know not, but at length an alarming sound caused us both to listen breathlessly. Next second the voices of men, loud and deep, greeted our startled ears as the curtains concealing the door by which I had entered stirred, as if some persons were there concealed. "May Allah have mercy!" gasped the woman I loved, her face blanched to the lips. "The eunuchs are making their first round. Thou art lost-- lost. And I am doomed to die!" Then I knew that a fatality encompassed me. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. A SECRET OF STATE. From behind the curtain the dumb slave Ayesha emerged a second later, and, with fear betrayed upon every feature of her dark countenance, motioned me to follow her. "Fly! Go in peace! Speed upon the wings of haste and save thyself!" Azala urged, in a low whisper, clinging to me for an instant while I kissed her white brow, half covered by its golden sequins. "Fly, and may the One Guide direct thy footsteps in the right path, and guard thee through all perils of thy quest." "May Allah envelop thee with the cloak of his protection," I said, fervently. "Farewell, O Beloved! I go to seek to penetrate a mystery that none has solved. Having thy blessing, I fear nought. _Slama. Allah iselemeck_." As I released her, her eyes became suffused, but with a gesture of fear she pushed me from her gently, and Ayesha, grasping my arm, led me through the alcove, and as I passed from the sight of the woman I loved she murmured a last fond farewell. Then we descended the stairs to the chamber wherein I had gazed into the Prism of Destiny, and passed through the door by which the Arab slaves had entered, just at the moment we heard men's deep voices in Azala's apartment above. Silently we crept out upon the staircase by which my mute guide had taken me to Azala's chamber, and then descending by many intricate ways we at last crossed the garden and entered the Court of the Pages, where Ayesha left me abruptly without word, gesture or sign. Crossing the paved court where figs and oranges grew in great abundance, I entered the Court of the Janissaries. Here some of the _mulazimin_ quartered there, surprised at seeing me in the attire of an eunuch, rose to salute me. Impatiently I passed on, acknowledging their salaams with scant courtesy, until I came to the handsome Court of the Grand Vizier. As I passed the statuesque sentries at the gate I heard men conversing in low tones beyond the screen of thick papaya bushes placed before the entrance to afford shadow for the guards. In an instant it occurred to me that if seen by the slaves of Mahaza attired in eunuch's dress some awkward inquiries might be instituted, therefore I concealed myself in the bushes, scarce daring to breathe. Peering through the foliage to ascertain who was astir so early, I was amazed to recognise that the two men in earnest conversation were none other than my master the Khalifa Abdullah, and Khazneh, the Aga of the Black Eunuchs of the Sultan. Quite involuntarily I played the part of eavesdropper, for fearing detection and impatient to get out of the Fada to the spot where Azala's camel awaited me, I stood motionless. The words that fell upon my ears amazed me. At first I imagined that I must be dreaming, but quickly I found that the scene I was witnessing was a stern reality. The Khalifa, plainly dressed in a robe similar to that worn by his body-servants, in order, no doubt, to avoid being recognised by the soldiers and slaves, stood leaning against one of the marble columns supporting the colonnade that ran around three sides of the great court; his brow was heavy and thoughtful, and his dark eyes fixed upon his companion. Khazneh, with arms folded and chin upon his breast, remained in an attitude of deep meditation. Suddenly he asked in a low, hoarse tone, first glancing round to assure himself that he was not overheard,-- "And in such case, what sayest thou should be my reward?" "Thou wilt gain wealth and power," the Khalifa answered. "Think, what art thou now? A mere harem slave of thy Sultan. If thou renderest me the assistance I have suggested, thou canst rise to be first in the land." "Thou, O Khalifa, art above all," the Aga interrupted, as the complacent smile on Abdullah's gross face told him that he was amenable to flattery. But a second later the expression of satisfaction gave place to a keen, crafty look, a glance, the significance of which I knew well, as he said,-- "Behold! Already the sun hath risen, and we must not tarry. The slaves will see us together and suspect. A single word whispered into the ear of thy Lord 'Othman would ruin our plan. Thou must choose now. Art thou ready to adopt my suggestion?" In hesitation the Aga bit his finger-nails, hitched his silken robe about his shoulders, and gazed steadfastly down at the marble pavement. "Thou hast, as yet, made no definite promise as to the profits I should gain," he muttered. "Then give ear unto me," said the Khalifa, in a low, earnest tone. "Thou hast admitted that we have both much to gain by the downfall of thy Sultan, therefore we must act together carefully, with perfect trust in one another. My suggestion is that exactly four moons from to-day my fighting-men, to the number of sixteen thousand, shall encamp at various points two days distant, ready to converge upon this city. On thy part, thou wilt invent some grievance against the Sultan to stir up discontent among the guards, Janissaries and slaves, and let the dissatisfaction spread to the army itself. Then, when they are ripe for revolt, an announcement will be made that the Dervishes are already in force at the city gates, and that if they are prepared to live under better conditions, with thyself as ruler under the Khalifa, they must throw down their arms. This they will assuredly do, and my Ansar will enter the city and the Fada as conquerors. They will have orders to kill the Sultan at once, and to secure his daughter Azala, of whose wondrous beauty I have heard much, for my harem. In the meantime, Katsena and Sokoto will be immediately subdued by my horsemen, and before sundown I shall be proclaimed ruler throughout the Empire. Assuredly, I shall not forget thee, and thy gains will be large. This palace, with the whole of the harem and half the treasure it containeth, shall be given unto thee, and thou wilt continue to reside here and rule on my behalf. Under my suzerainty thy power will be absolute, and with the army of the Soudan at thy back thou wilt fear none." "Thou temptest me, O Khalifa," the Aga said, still undecided to turn traitor to the monarch who reposed in him the utmost confidence. "But even if thou gavest unto me this palace I should not have the means to keep it up. Of a verity I am a poor man, and--" "Do my bidding and thou shalt be wealthy," Abdullah exclaimed, impatiently. "As Governor of Sokoto thine expenses will come from the Treasury, therefore trouble thyself not upon that score. Stir up the revolt, and take precaution that the life of the Princess Azala is preserved; leave the rest unto me." "The daughter of the Sultan hath already a lover," Khazneh said suddenly, his words causing my heart to beat so quickly that I could distinctly hear it. "A lover!" cried the Khalifa. "Who dareth to gaze upon her with thoughts of affection?" "A spy from thy camp." "From my camp?" he repeated, puzzled. "I had intended that he should lose his head, but the Sultan himself pardoned him because he feared the consequence of some strange symbol the spy bore upon his breast." "Was he the Arab horseman captured at the well of Sabo-n-Gari?" asked the Khalifa, with knit brows, evidently recollecting the description I had given of the attack. "The same. The Lalla Azala saved his life, and declared to me that she loved him." "Then I, the Khalifa, have a rival in Zafar, the chief of my body-servants!" my master cried angrily, between his teeth. "I will give orders to-day for his removal." "Send his head to her as a present," suggested the Aga, with a brutal laugh. "The sight of it will break her spirit." "Thy lips utter words of wisdom. I will send it to thee, that thou mayest convey it to her." Thus I stood, hearing my fate being discussed, not daring to move a muscle, for so close was I to the pair, that I could have struck them dead with the keen _jambiyah_ I carried in my sash. "Then it is thine intention to annex Sokoto unto thine already extensive domains," the Aga exclaimed, in a few moments. The Khalifa nodded an affirmative, adding, "Hesitate no longer, but give thy decision. If thou wilt open the gates of Kano for the admission of my Ansar, thou shalt, as reward, occupy the highest and most lucrative post in the Empire. If not--" And he shrugged his shoulders significantly. "And if not?" the Aga asked, slowly. "If not, then every man in Omdurman capable of bearing arms shall come forth unto this thy city, and take it by assault. Then assuredly will little mercy be shown those who have defied the Ruler of the Soudan," and his brow darkened. "The Empire, as thou hast said, is badly governed. Men are appointed to all offices who are unfit, war languishes, thine enemies rejoice, the leaders of thy troops prefer their harems to their camps, and from the cadis the people obtain no justice. Therefore give me the promise of thine assistance, and let us together gather the reins of office in our hands. Thou hast no power now outside the Courts of Enchantment, and no wealth beyond thine emoluments, but it is within thy reach to acquire both wealth and greatness." "But if, while I sought to alienate the guards and soldiers against the Sultan, my seditious words should be whispered into his ear? Assuredly my head would fall beneath the _doka_ of the executioner." "Fear not," answered the head of the Mahdists. "If thou art willing to carry out my suggestion, I shall make an excuse for remaining as guest of thy Sultan, by continuing the negotiations for the defensive treaty against those dogs of English. At sundown to-night a trusty messenger will leave, bearing orders to my emirs to assemble the troops and speed hither with all haste, and while the Sultan is unsuspecting, his doom will fast approach. What craft cannot effect, gold may perchance accomplish. If thy treasonable practices are detected, then will I intercede for thee, and he cannot act in direct opposition to the entreaty of his guest. But hearken! Some one is astir!" The patter of bare feet upon the polished pavement broke the silence as intently we listened. A black slave was approaching. "Come, give me thine answer quickly, and before sundown our written undertakings under seal shall be secretly exchanged." Khazneh hesitated. Apparently he was distrustful of the Khalifa's true intentions, although the generous reward promised for his services in securing the entry of the Dervishes without opposition was a tempting bait. His fingers toyed nervously with the jewelled hilt of his sword-- the keen, curved weapon that had struck off so many fair heads within the brilliant Courts of Enchantment--and again he bit his uneven fingernails. "Think! Thou hast much to gain, with naught to lose," urged the Khalifa. "Under me thou wilt occupy the same position as thine Imperial Master. Come, speak; and let us part ere we are remarked." "I--I will assist thee," the Aga stammered at last, in a low, half-frightened whisper. "At sundown let our secret compact be concluded." My astute master well knew that the temptation to secure wealth and power would induce the scheming Aga of the Women to become his catspaw. He had not approached his accomplice without thoroughly fathoming his character, and noting his weaknesses. I could detect from his face that from the first he had been confident of success. "Then upon thee be perfect peace, even until the day of Al-Jassasa," answered the Khalifa, with a sinister smile of satisfaction, and without further speech the two men parted, walking in different directions, and leaving me, excited and apprehensive, to my own reflections. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. FLIGHT. Allah took me into his keeping. I made a solitude and called it peace. Half-an-hour later I succeeded in escaping unrecognised from the Fada, and passing out by the great gate, hurried breathlessly through the slave-market, already alive with Arabs, negroes and herds of half-starved slaves, through the Yaalewa quarter, past the Palace of Ghaladima, and down many quaint and narrow streets of square, flat-roofed houses, their walls intensely white against the bright, unclouded blue, with passages from the Koran inscribed over the doors. The great market presented a most animated scene, for business is transacted in Kano before the sun becomes powerful. All the idioms of the Sahara, Soudan and Northern Africa, from the blue Mediterranean and grey Atlantic to Lake Tsad, were to be heard there, and beneath the white turban or red fez were all the different types of negro races-- Berber, Songhoi, Bambara, Toucoulem, Malinka, among the blacks; and Foulbes, Moors, Tuaregs, and Tripolitans among the whites. Rows of shops bordered three sides of the market, and the fourth opened upon the Mosque, as if in reminder that honesty and good faith should preside over all its transactions. Sitting surrounded by calabashes and potteries, the women, with neatly-plaited black hair, sold vegetables, milk, manioc, incense, baobab flour, karita, spices, soap and fagots of wood. In the centre of the market were three shops in which were sold the choicer goods--native and European textiles principally, Manchester calicoes and Lyons silks, with salt, kola nuts, slippers, mirrors, pearls, knives, etc. The money-changer was also stationed there, with his black face showing out from between his little mountain of cowries. For native gold (in rings like the money of the Pharaohs) he gave and took hundreds and thousands of the little shells, grinning broadly the while. Further on, amid a perfect babel of tongues, magic roots, gold dust, emeralds, pearls and amber, provisions dried in the sun, hair torn from the heads of dead negresses, old Korans, gongs, poniards, ancient jewellery, ginkris, flint guns, and amulets, were bought and sold, while everywhere beggars, ragged and dirty, and lepers, rendered hideous by their horrible white ulcers, held forth lean, talon-like hands, crying aloud in the name of the One Allah for alms. The people who crowded the narrow thoroughfares beyond the market were of every variety of national form--the olive-coloured Arab, the dark Kanouri with his wide nostrils, the tall, stately, black-veiled Tuareg, the small-featured, light and slender ba-Fellenchi, the broad-faced ba-Wangara, the stout, masculine-looking Nupe female, and the comely ba-Haushe woman. But I sped onward, thinking only of the dastardly plot by which the Sultan was to be overthrown, and the woman I loved spirited away to the great harem in far-off Omdurman. Assuredly the register of the actions of the wicked is in Sejjin, the book distinctly written, which cannot be denied as a falsehood. At first I had felt impelled to seek an audience of the Sultan, but on reflection I saw that such a course would achieve no purpose. Already he had forbidden me to set foot within his Empire, and it was not likely that he would believe my statement if flatly contradicted by both the Khalifa and the villainous Khazneh, as undoubtedly it would be. I strove to invent some means of acquainting the Sultan 'Othman of his impending doom, but could devise none. As I crossed the Zat Nakhl (Place of Palm Trees), I reflected that my secret assassination would probably be the only result of my exposure of the plot. Four months must elapse ere the Dervishes could reach Kano, therefore I resolved to preserve silence, and go forth to fulfil my promise to Azala to try and elucidate the mystery. At a little distance outside the Kofa-n-Kura, I found, as she had stated, two camels kneeling, with their bags ready packed, in charge of the dwarf Tiamo, who, when he saw me, ran forward, greeting me effusively, and urging me to hasten, so that we might leave the city ere our absence from the Fada was discovered. This advice I followed, and a few minutes later we were seated on the animals, speeding quickly away over the loose sand, leaving the gigantic white walls of Kano behind. Once I turned to gaze upon the tower of the Fada that stood out clear and white, knowing that from behind one of those small lattices Azala was watching our departure with anxious, tearful eyes. Raising my hand I waved her a last farewell, then, with face set doggedly towards the west, I rode forward with my queer companion, in quest of the undiscovered spot that had so many times been reflected with such clearness of detail upon the sky. On over the arid sands we journeyed, pausing not even during the blazing heat of noon, but pursuing our way with rapidity in order to put as great a distance as possible between ourselves and the city by sundown. Instead of taking the caravan route to Kaoura we had turned off in a south-westerly direction over a confused agglomeration of _aghrud_, or high sandhills, almost impassable, in order to baffle our pursuers in case we were followed. Just before sundown we paused at a spot where the light shadows of the palms, tamarisk, alfa and mimosa rested on the dry, parched thirst-land, and decided to halt for the night. Unloading and tethering our camels, I knelt to my two-bow prayer and repeated my _dua_, after which the dwarf became communicative. He was a pagan and believed not in Allah, or the Prophet. During the day he had apparently been too much concerned regarding my personal safety to speak much, but now we ate and took our _Cayf_ in the blue and purple haze, sitting silent and still, listening to the monotonous melody of the oasis, the soft evening breeze wandering through the brilliant sky and tufted trees with a voice of melancholy meaning, lounging in pleasant languor and dreamy tranquillity. Briefly my impish companion told me how his mistress had entrusted him with the arrangements for our journey, and had given him instructions to accompany me as servant. I smoked my _shisha_ (travelling pipe), listening to the croaking voice of this strange being with his large, ugly head and small body, in whom Azala reposed such confidence; then I questioned him regarding his past. It always pleased him if I addressed him by the soubriquet El-Sadic that Azala had bestowed upon him. His eyes grew brighter, his grin more hideous, and he fingered his numberless heathen amulets as he related to me the exciting story of how he had been captured by Arab slave-raiders at his home in the forest of Kar, beside the Serbeouel river in Baguirmi, and taken to Kano, where he was purchased by the Grand Vizier, and afterwards given to the Lalla Azala. As he spoke the mouth of this human monstrosity widened, displaying a hideous row of teeth, and this, combined with his croaking voice, rendered him a weird and altogether extraordinary companion. Yet his strength seemed almost double mine, for he had unloaded the camels without an effort, carrying with perfect ease packages that would have made me pant. Sitting together on the mat we had spread, watching the sun sinking on the misty horizon, and the bright crescent moon slowly rising, I asked him whether he was aware of the nature of my quest. "The Lalla Azala hath explained to me, O master, that thou seekest the Rock of the Great Sin," he answered. "What knowest thou of the rock?" I inquired. "Only that which hath been related by the storytellers," he answered. "As in Kano, so we away on the Serbeouel river believe in its existence, though none has discovered its whereabouts. By my people, the negroes of Baguirmi, it is believed to be the entrance to the sacred land to which those who die valiantly in battle are transported, while those who betray cowardice are thrown into the Lake of the Accursed, wherein dwell crocodiles of great size, water-snakes who live on human flesh, and all kinds of venomous reptiles. The story-tellers of our tribe say that the reason none has found it is because there is emitted, from the Lake of the Accursed, vapours so deadly as to prevent any one from approaching the rock sufficiently near to distinguish its outline. It is the abode of the Death-god." "Art thou not afraid to accompany me in this search?" I asked, knowing how superstitious are the negroes. "It is the Lalla's will," he answered, simply. "Thou, an Arab from the North and my lady's friend, art seeking to deliver her from bondage, therefore where thou goest, there also will I bear thee company." "Bravely spoken," I said, and after a pause told him of the conspiracy that had been formed against the Sultan. With breathless interest he listened while I related how I had discovered its existence; then, when I had finished, he half rose, saying,-- "But the Lalla shall never grace the harem of the cruel, brutal Khalifa. I myself will save her." "I cannot give her warning, for I dare not again approach her," I pointed out, with sorrow. "Shall I go back and tell her, while thou remainest here until my return?" he suggested. "No," I answered, on reflection. "Silence is best at present. For four months, at least, Kano is safe. If the Sultan is warned within that time, his enemies may be overthrown." "The dastardly plot of the abuser of the salt, the vile offspring of Shimr, shall be thwarted," he cried, fiercely. "The heads of its originators shall rot upon the city gate, and none shall enter the presence of the Lalla, with whose beauty none can compare." "Act not rashly," I said. "We know the secret of the conspirators, therefore we may be able to thwart them so neatly that they fall victims to their own plot. Let us act with care and discretion, that the Empire may be saved from falling into the hands of the wild-haired fanatics of Omdurman, who, although my comrades-in-arms, are not my tribesmen." "Be it even as thou commandest," he answered. "My life is equally at thy service to secure the undoing of the traitor, as for the diligent search we are about to make for the Rock of the Great Sin," and the claw-like fingers of the dwarf slowly grasped his pipe-stem, as he smoked on thoughtfully. In the deep silence of the desert, under the pale light of the moon, that rose from the direction of the city from which we were fleeing, I sat, plunged in reverie, wondering whether my search would prove successful. My head ached, my lips were parched, and I felt spent with long travel, therefore, scooping a hole in the sand, I threw myself down to snatch a few hours' repose, as we had decided to be moving again before sunrise. Sleep must have come to my eyes quickly, for I was suddenly awakened by the dwarf shaking me, and saying in a low whisper, as he placed his quick ear to the sand,-- "Hearken! Canst thou not hear the thud of horses' hoofs? Thine absence hath been detected, and we are pursued!" And, as I strained my ears, I could distinctly detect the regular, monotonous thud of a horse urged across the desert at terrific pace; and, as I knelt upon the sand, I grasped the rifle that I had found packed on the camel, and held it loaded in readiness--prepared to defend myself, an example which Tiamo immediately followed. In the desert no law is recognised but that of the strong arm and the keen blade. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. THE ALARM. Rapidly the solitary horseman drew near, galloping as if for life. Being alone, it seemed probable that he had been sent forward by our pursuers to endeavour to obtain traces of us, and as the fleet Arab steed approached, Tiamo, stretched upon the ground, took careful and deliberate aim, ready to fire as soon as he approached within range. Our camels lazily raised their heads to survey the newcomer, stirred uneasily as if they had presage of danger, and as on the alert we awaited the approach of the mysterious rider, we discerned to our dismay that he wore a white burnouse. "Behold!" whispered the dwarf, "it is one of our Zamfara, who always act as scouts! He must die if we intend to escape." It seemed that he had not discovered us, but was on his way to the well to water his horse, therefore I answered,-- "Take not his life unless the circumstances demand extreme measures. At least let him approach and have speech with us ere thou firest." "Conquest lieth with those who strike the first blow," he replied, a sinister grin upon his ugly visage as again he covered the approaching figure with his rifle and carefully took aim. At that moment, however, the galloping _ngirma_ emerged into the moonlight, revealing a strange awkwardness in its white-robed rider's manner that struck me as remarkable, and as it dashed forward and became more distinct, the truth flashed upon me. "By my beard!" I cried aloud, knocking, with sudden impulse, the rifle from Tiamo's hand. "By my beard! It's a woman!" The rifle exploded, but the bullet went wide. The rider, startled at the shot, and thinking she had been fired at, pulled her horse instantly upon its haunches, and sat peering in our direction, motionless, in fear. "Advance, and fear not, O friend!" I shouted to her, rising to my feet, but my peaceful declarations had to be thrice repeated ere she summoned courage to move forward to us, the bridle trembling in her hands. On approaching, however, she slipped quickly from the saddle of the foam-flecked animal, and tearing her haick from her face, bounded over the sand towards us. Her appearance struck us speechless with amazement. The mysterious rider whom we had feared, and who had so very narrowly escaped death by our hand, was Ayesha, the dumb slave of Azala. With one accord we both eagerly inquired the object of her wild ride in the lonely desert so far from Kano at that hour, but she merely shook her head indicative of her inability to reply, and pressed her brown hand to her side, being compelled to halt for a moment to recover breath. In the moonlight we could see the look of fear and excitement in her dark eyes, with their kohl-marked brows, but although she gesticulated wildly, we failed to catch her meaning. "Her mouth refuseth to utter sound," observed the dwarf. "Yet she seemeth to have followed us with some important object. No halt hath she made since leaving Kano, judging by the dust about her and the spent condition of her horse, which, by the way, belongeth to the Aga of the Janissaries, and one of the fleetest that the Sultan possesseth." He spoke rapidly in Arabic, and the slave, unacquainted with any but her native Hausa tongue, gazed in embarrassment from Tiamo's face to mine. "Cannot she write?" I asked. "Alas! no," answered my hideous little companion. "So carefully hath she studied the Lalla that she anticipated her wishes by the looks in her eyes." While thus in conversation, wondering how we could obtain the truth from her, she rushed towards her horse, and seizing its bridle, brought it towards us. Then, with a smile of triumph upon her brown, wrinkled face, she inserted her thin hand beneath the leather of the saddle, and produced therefrom a letter folded small, and addressed in Arabic to myself. The sprawly characters I recognised instantly as Azala's, and on tearing it open I found it bore the seal of her ancient signet-ring, shaped like an Egyptian scarab. Tiamo El-Sadic, anticipating my requirements, quickly kindled a piece of paper, and by its uncertain light I was enabled to decipher the hasty message from the woman I loved, which read as follows:-- "_Fly instantly to the city of Sokoto, O Zafar, my Beloved_. _Thine enemies seek thy life, and are already in search of thee. Three hours after I had watched thy departure from my lattice my father came unto me, and although I denied thy visit in order to shield thee, it was apparent that thou hast been betrayed, for he is aware of thy return. As thou hast truly said, he feareth thee because thou bearest the Mark of the Asps, for he compelled me to uncover the mark I bear, so that he might gaze upon it and compare it with thine. Before me upon the Koran he hath sworn that thou shalt die. Already two troops of one hundred horsemen each have left the Kofa-n-Kura and have scattered over the desert in search of thee_. _Fly! Halt not, for my sake, so that thou reachest the city of Sokoto ere news of the Sultan's wrath can be conveyed thither. When thou reachest the city, seek at once the dyer Mohammed el-Arewa, who liveth in the Gazubi quarter, and deliver unto him the message Ayesha beareth thee. He will conduct thee into the Mountains of Kambari, where thou canst escape the vigilance of spies and continue thy journey unmolested. Halt not, but speed on, for thine enemies are closely following thy camels tracks. My haste causeth my hand to tremble, but Ayesha hath confidence in overtaking thee. Fly, and may Allah favour thee, and protect thee with the invulnerable shield of his blessing. Peace_." Looking into the face of the dark-eyed slave who had so devotedly served her mistress, and undertaken a journey that few women could have accomplished, I stretched forth my hand for the second letter, which she gave me. It bore Azala's seal, and was addressed to Mohammed el-Arewa. "Lift, O master, from thy servant's heart, the anxiety oppressing it, by telling him what news the mute hath brought," Tiamo said. "We must travel at once to Sokoto," I answered, briefly. "Let us replace the camels' packs, for sleep must not come again to our eyes ere we enter the city." "Do our enemies pursue us?" he inquired, eagerly. "Yes. To reach Sokoto, and gain the assistance of one Mohammed el-Arewa, is our only chance of escape." "Let us set forth," he said promptly, walking towards where the camels were kneeling. Then turning, he added, "Hast thou forgotten thou still wearest the silk robe of a eunuch? Assuredly it will attract the eyes of all men. Remove it and attire thyself in these," and rummaging in one of the camels' packs, he produced the white haick and burnouse of an Arab, together with the rope of brown twisted camel's hair to wind around the head, so as to keep the haick in place. While he loaded our camels I carried out his suggestion, quickly transforming myself from a eunuch of the Sultan of Sokoto to a plain wanderer of the desert. With Ayesha we could only converse by gesticulation, rendering her thanks for conveying the message unto us. Having no writing materials, I cut from my camel's trappings a piece of soft goatskin, and with the point of a knife traced roughly in Arabic the words,-- "_Verily a plot is on foot to encompass the overthrow of thy dynasty. Warn thy father, the Sultan, of the conspiracy between the Khalifa Abdullah and his Grand Eunuch Khaznch. This message Ayesha beareth from thy friend, Zafar_." On giving it to the slave to convey to her mistress, she concealed it next her tattooed breast. From our little store we gave her some dates, and as she motioned her intention of remaining to rest, and returning to Kano at dawn, we tethered her horse for her. Then, mounting our camels, we gave her "peace," and rode out again upon the silent, boundless plain. The moon no longer shed her light; an intense darkness had fallen--that darkness which is invariably precursory of the sandstorm. Without even a star by which to guide ourselves we trusted that by good fortune we were travelling in the right direction. The dwarf, who had once before been over the ground, was searching for a landmark, and, to our mutual satisfaction, half-an-hour after dawn he discovered it. "Lo!" he cried excitedly, shouting back to me and pointing to where, far away on the grey, misty horizon, a large hill appeared. "We are not mistaken, for we have struck the caravan route. Yonder is the Rock of Mikia, and behind it, the village of Dsafe. Before noon we shall enter the valley through which windeth a river, and continuing along its bank, we shall be within the gate of Sokoto ere it closeth at sunset." CHAPTER NINETEEN. MOHAMMED EL-AREWA. After halting to refresh ourselves, during which time I snatched a few moments to perform my _sujdah_, we remounted, and through the whole day, regardless of the sun's fiery rays, which struck down upon us like tongues of fire, we pushed forward over a rough, stony wilderness, devoid of herbage or any living thing except the great, grey vultures circling above with ominous persistency. Throughout the day, my ugly little negro companion continually fingered his strange amulets, uttering curious pagan incantations in his own tongue, while to myself I repeated the "Kul-ya-ayyuha 'l-Kafiruna," and the "Kul-Huw' Allah," more than once inclined to upbraid my friend as an infidel. But, on reflection, I saw that any words of reproach would pain him to no purpose, therefore I held my peace. His face, black as polished ebony, seemed to grow increasingly ugly as he became more wearied; when he smiled his mouth stretched from ear to ear, and the craning of his neck, as he swayed with the undulating motion of his camel, gave him a weird, grotesque appearance, even in the brilliant glare of noon. The beads, trinkets, pieces of lizard skin, and mysterious scraps of wood and stone strung around his neck, he constantly caressed, while twice he suddenly dismounted, and holding his hands aloft, frisked like an ape, yelling at the sun as if he had taken leave of his senses. Notwithstanding his extreme ugliness and his strange actions, I nevertheless grew to like him, for he seemed genuinely devoted to me, as a slave should be to his master. Two hours after high noon, when the sun was beginning to veer round and shine directly into our faces, we entered the Wady al-Ward (the Vale of Flowers) the dwarf had mentioned. Beside the small river--scarcely more than a brook--we journeyed over ground thickly covered with herbage and flowers. For a few minutes we allowed our camels to browse, then urged them on, remembering it was imperative that we should arrive at Sokoto before the gate closed for the night. The shadow cast by the rocks, the cool rippling of the water, and the fertility of the country we appreciated after the arid, sun-baked wilderness. But as we journeyed on we found grim relics of an attack which had evidently been made some months before upon a caravan, for fresh, green garlands of ropeweed and creepers had festooned decayed skulls, and entwined about the bleaching bones of arms and legs, now and then blossoming into brilliant clusters of scarlet or blue flowers. Through the valleys we wound for many hours, while the sky changed from blue to gold, and from gold to crimson, until at last the sun slowly sank before us with that gorgeous flood of colour only to be witnessed in Central Africa, and the low hills, bristling with mimosa and doum palms, assumed singular forms and uncouth dimensions in the twilight mirage. In the rapidly-falling gloom our eyes were at last gladdened by the sight of the tall minarets of Sokoto, but the tall, bronzed guards at the city gate are ever wary, and a strange scene was enacted. It appeared that with the people of Sokoto the measures formerly taken to guard against surprise are now observed as a matter of form and etiquette. Hence, as we approached the gate the guards crouched, and throwing their litham over the lower part of their faces in Tuareg fashion, grasped the inseparable spear in the right and the shangermangor in their left hand. This action caused us considerable anxiety, but after these preliminaries they began to inquire our names and places of abode, afterwards giving us "peace," and allowing us to proceed. For a few minutes we halted to gossip, so as not to appear in undue haste, and just as the call for evening prayer was sounding and the guards were beating the great drum to announce the closing of the gate, we passed into the spacious market, wherein a caravan of many camels were taking their ease preparatory to starting for Timbuktu on the morrow. Riding on through the city--the ancient and now discarded capital of the Sultan 'Othman's empire--we found it very extensive, and although the character of the houses was much more primitive than those of Moorish type in Kano, yet there was manifested everywhere the comfortable, pleasant life led by the inhabitants. Each courtyard was fenced with a "derne" of tall reeds, excluding, to a certain degree, the eyes of the passer-by without securing to the interior absolute secrecy; and each house had, near its entrance, the cool, shady "runfa" or place for the reception of strangers or the transaction of business, with a "shibki" roof, and the whole dwelling shaded by spreading trees. The people, although of cheerful temperament, appeared more simple in their dress than in Kano. The men wore a wide shirt and trousers of dark colour, with a light cap of cotton cloth, while the female population affected a large cotton cloth of dark blue fastened under or above the breast, their only ornaments being strings of glass beads worn around the neck. Proud, ignorant, bigoted and insolent, the people of Sokoto are all owners of cattle, camels, horses and slaves. These latter, along with the women, generally cultivate some fields of dhurra, or corn, sufficient for their wants. The Arab, in Sokoto, would consider it a disgrace to practice any manual labour. He is essentially a hunter, a robber and a warrior, and, after caring for his cattle, devotes all his energies to slave-hunting and war. The lower classes are simply a rabble of filth, petty mendicancy, gaol-bird physiognomy and cringing hypocrisy. Passing through several markets crowded by chattering throngs, and up a number of close streets where idle men and women were lounging, and where the heat from the stones reflected into one's face, we at last found the _marina_, or dyeing place, near the city wall. It consisted of a raised platform of clay with a number of holes or pits in which the mixture of indigo was prepared, and the cloths were placed for a certain length of time, according to the colour it was desired they should assume. It was beside one of these holes, working by the light of a rude torch, his arms immersed in the dark blue dye, that we found the Arab we sought. As we gave him "peace" he rose to his feet with dignity, and dried his stained hands. He was about sixty, tall, with kindly, sharp-cut features, and a long, sweeping beard flecked with grey. Taking Azala's letter, he opened it, read it carefully twice, caressed his patriarchal beard, and placed the paper in a pocket beneath his burnouse. Then turning, he said,-- "Upon thee be perfect peace, O friends. Welcome to the poor hospitality of the roof of Mohammed el-Arewa. Take thine ease to-night, for ere the sun riseth over the blue hills of Salame, we must set forth if thou wouldst escape those who seek thy destruction." Then, after blowing out his torch, he addressed me, saying, "Art thou the friend of the Lalla Azala?" "She is my friend," I answered, with promptitude. "Discretion sealeth thy lips," he observed, laughing. "Well, I, too, loved once at thine age. If thou art, as I suspect, the lover of the beauteous Azala, of a verity thou hast chosen well. Happy the man who basketh in the rose-garden of her smiles. To her I owe the freedom of my only child, my daughter, who, captured by the Tuaregs, was sold to the accursed Grand Vizier Mahaza--may Allah burn his vitals!--and only by the intercession of the Lalla was she released. I am Azala Fathma's devoted slave, to do as she commandeth," adding in a lower tone, as if to himself, "Women swallow at one mouthful the lie that flattereth, and drink drop by drop the truth that is bitter. But the Lalla Azala careth not for flattery, and seeketh only to do good. She is a pearl among women." Then accompanying him to his house close to the principal gate, we were treated as honoured visitors. A guest-dish, sweet as the dates of Al-jauf, was prepared for us, and we ate _fara_, or roasted locusts seasoned with cheese, _tuwo-n-magaria_, or bread made from the fruit of the magaria tree, roasted fowl and dates, washed down with copious draughts of _giya_ made of sorghum. After our meal, eight negro girls came forth and gratified our ears with a performance on various instruments. There was the _gauga_, very much like our own Arab _derbouka_, only larger, the long wind instrument, or _pampamnie_, a shorter one like a flute, called the _elgaita_, the double tambourine called the _kalango_, the _koso_, the _jojo_, or small derbouka, and the _kafo_, or small horn, which in unison created an ear-splitting tumult impossible to adequately describe. The negresses blew, thumped and grinned as if their lives depended upon the amount of sound they obtained from their various instruments, but, worn out by the forced march, I heeded not their well-meant efforts to entertain, and actually fell into a heavy slumber with the mouthpiece of the pipe my host had thoughtfully provided for me still between my lips. In the night, awakened suddenly by the loud blowing of a horn and frantic shouting, I lay and listened. As it continued I got up and aroused Tiamo, who slept near. For some minutes we strained our ears to ascertain the cause of the hubbub, apparently at the city gate, when suddenly our host burst into the apartment panting. "Alas!" he cried, in a hoarse whisper. "The soldiers of the Sultan have arrived. Listen!" The noise continued. Armed men were battering on the great gate that closed at night-fall and never opened till dawn, except to admit an Imperial messenger. We could distinctly hear their voices demanding admittance in the name of the Sultan. "Already have I bribed the guards of the Kofa with twenty pieces of silver. When questioned, they will deny thine entrance here," the old dyer exclaimed in reassuring tones, as at the same moment there fell upon our ears the answering voices of the sleepy guards, urging them to be patient while the gate was unbarred. Tiamo and I exchanged uneasy and significant glances in the dim light shed by a hanging lamp of brass. "Suppose they determine to search for us," the dwarf suggested, in alarm. "The assurance of the guards will throw them off our scent, and at dawn they will rest after their long journey. Then will the gate be opened, and we shall be enabled to escape. Take thine ease in peace, for of a verity, the way will be long ere thou canst again rest." And hastily raising the curtain that hung before the arched door, he disappeared. Feeling myself safe beneath the hospitable roof of one who owed to Azala a deep debt of gratitude, I threw myself again upon my divan, and soon dreamed of the beautiful woman whose countenance fascinated me, and whose glorious hair held me entangled in its silky web. How long I dreamed I cannot tell, for again I was awakened, this time by the ugly dwarf shaking me by the shoulder. "Rise, O master," cried El-Sadic, in alarm. "We are discovered! Already the soldiers of the Sultan have entered the house!" As, half dazed, I stood rubbing my eyes in wonderment, Mohammed el-Arewa burst in upon us, gasping in a low tone,-- "Gather thy belongings quickly, and follow me. It is thine only chance." In less time than it occupies to relate, we snatched up our articles of dress, and hurried after him through several doors, until he came to a double one, whereat was seated a black slave. As we passed quickly through this, the odour of fragrant perfumes greeted our nostrils, and, in the semi-darkness, there was the _frou-frou_ of silk, and the sound of hasty, shuffling feet. A second later, we found ourselves in a small apartment, lit more brightly than the others, tastefully decorated in green and gold, and containing many priceless Arab rugs and soft divans. "Rest here undisturbed," he said, waving his hands in the direction of the inviting-looking lounges, around which were scattered traces of women's occupation. "Within the apartments sacred to my women they will not search for thee. Though I commit an offence against our law, thou art safe in this, my harem. I will shield thee, even with mine own life, for the sake of the Lalla Azala, upon whom may Allah ever shower his blessings! Rest, then, while I go and complete the preparations for our flight." "We thank thee, O father!" I answered, fervently. "May thy face be ever brightened by the sun of Allah's favour!" But he was already out of hearing, so suddenly did he leave us. Within a quarter of an hour, sounds of a loud and fierce altercation reaching us, caused us to stand rigid and silent. So rapidly were the words spoken in the Hausa tongue, that many of them were to me unintelligible, but, glancing at the dwarf, I noticed that his brow was contracted. His eyes glittered with a keen, murderous expression that I had never seen before, as, with unsheathed knife in hand, he stood near the doorway of the harem on the alert, determined not to be taken without a struggle, and to sell his life dearly. The curtain on the opposite side of our place of concealment stirred, and a fair face peered forth inquisitively, listening as attentively as ourselves, to the heated argument outside. Her great, fathomless eyes were surmounted by two delicately-pencilled arches, and her black, glossy hair fell down her neck, covering her cheeks with its warm shadows. With a suddenness that startled us, a deep voice, raised louder than the others, expressed a conviction that we were hidden there, and declared his intention of making a thorough search, whereupon approaching footsteps sounded on the paving; the young woman withdrew her head with a slight scream, realising that her privacy was to be intruded upon, and Tiamo and I stood together, dismayed at our base betrayal by the keepers of the city gate. It was an exciting moment. In desperation, I drew my two-edged _jambiyah_--determined to fight desperately, rather than fall alive into the hands of the Sultan's torturers. CHAPTER TWENTY. THE FATHER OF THE BLUE HAND. As with bated breath we listened, Mohammed, upon whom Tiamo had bestowed the sobriquet of "The Father of the Blue Hand," spoke in Arabic, denying in clear, indignant tones that any stranger had found succour beneath his roof, and expressing his readiness to assist his Majesty the Sultan in arresting the rascally Dervish spy. "Proceed no further," he cried, evidently barring their way resolutely. "Lend me thine ears. Though a worker at the dye-pots I have, by diligence and integrity, amassed riches, and am honoured among the men of Sokoto. Desecrate not the quarters of my wives by intruding thy presence upon them. If thou thinkest that I lie when I tell thee that no stranger hath eaten salt with me, ask of the Governor, of the Cadi, of the Hadj Al-Wali, chief imam, whether untruths fall from my lips. By my beard! thou art mistaken. Even though thou art fighting-men of the Sultan 'Othman--whom may Allah enrich and guide to just actions!--his Majesty would never suffer thee to penetrate into his servant's harem." "He lieth! He lieth!" they all cried, loudly. "The spy came hither, accompanied by a slave of small stature. Own it, or thy lying tongue shall be cut out." And one of the men added, "His Majesty hath given us orders to bring unto him the head of the Dervish from Omdurman--whom may Allah cast into the pit Al-Hawiyat!--but thine own hoary head will do as well," whereat the others, with one accord, jeered at our protector. The declaration of my pursuers caused my heart to sink. To be decapitated as a spy was as deplorable an end as to starve to death in the desert. But there was no escape; I resigned myself to the will of Allah. The altercation increased, Mohammed being assailed with a thousand maledictions, while my ugly companion and myself held our peace in fear and trembling. Although the soldiers alternately threatened and cajoled for a considerable time none entered the apartment wherein we stood, yet our discovery seemed imminent, and looking around for means of escape we could detect none. Suddenly, however, there was a shuffling of feet upon the flags, and a voice, loud in authority, cried,-- "Back, O men-at-arms! What meanest this? Let not thy feet desecrate the mats of Mohammed el-Arewa's harem, for of a verity he is honest and loyal, a trusty servant of our Imperial Master. By my beard! thy Koran giveth thee no right to intrude upon woman's domestic privacy. Back, I command thee. Back!" "Who art thou, son of _sebel_, who vouchest for this dyer's loyalty, and darest to give orders unto the emissaries of his Majesty?" asked one of the armed men, evidently their leader. "My name," cried the newcomer, "my name is Shukri Aga. I am Governor of Sokoto." Dead silence followed. The men mumbled together in an undertone, while our friend and protector briefly explained the position of affairs, laying stress on the fact that the soldiers had threatened to strike off his head. With one accord the men fell upon their knees before the representative of their Sultan, beseeching forgiveness, declaring that they had been misinformed, and that they had felt assured from the first that a devout man such as our host, would never harbour a dangerous spy. But the Governor was inexorable. Irritated by the insolent manner in which his right to interfere had been questioned, he turned upon them angrily, saying-- "Get thee gone instantly. To-morrow the cadi shall curb thine excess of zeal, and peradventure a taste of the bastinado will cause thee to remember that a man's harem is sacred. Begone!" Receding footsteps sounded as the soldiers of the Sultan, trembling and crestfallen, having evoked the wrath of a Governor whose harshness was notorious, filed out without a murmur. Then I thanked Allah for my deliverance, while my pagan companion grinned with satisfaction from ear to ear. The Governor crossed the patio with our host, and remained with him drinking coffee and smoking for a full half-hour, when he departed, and Mohammed hastened to reassure us, exclaiming piously, "_Inshallah bukra_" (Please God, to-morrow), afterwards leaving us in order to conclude his arrangements for our journey. By what means he succeeded in again silencing the tongues of the two watchmen at the city gate, I know not, nevertheless, when the moon was setting, and the dying moonlight and the first pallor of dawn were mingled in a ghastly half-light, the ponderous gate creaked upon its hinges, and I passed out, accompanied by the dwarf and the dyer. We fled straight on, leaving our path to fate. As I rode my _meheri_ rapidly over the grey, sandy plain, under a sky colourless and cheerless, Mohammed showered upon me a profusion of the finest compliments, pronounced in the most refined and sweet accent of which the Hausa tongue is capable, while I, finding myself again in the desert, after so narrowly escaping my enemies, thanked him sincerely for his strenuous and devoted efforts on our behalf. "I owe much to the Lalla Azala--whom may Allah refresh with the abundant showers of his blessings--and her friend is likewise mine," he said. He was showily and picturesquely dressed in a green and white striped robe, wide trousers of a speckled pattern and colour, like the plumage of a Guinea-fowl, with an embroidery of green silk in the front of the legs. Over this he wore a crimson burnouse, while around his fez a red and white turban was wound crosswise in neat and careful manner. A gun was slung over his shoulder by means of thick hangers of red silk ornamented with enormous tassels, and his hands and arms were still stained a deep blue. His mount was a splendid camel, the head and neck of which was fancifully ornamented with a profusion of tassels, bells, and little leathern pockets containing charms. "The Lalla Azala desireth me to conduct thee south to the border of the land of Al-Islam, so that thou canst escape thine enemies," he said, when we turned our backs upon the great, sun-whitened walls of the ancient capital of Sokoto. "We must therefore cross the desert and gain the forest with all speed, for doubtless the plains are being scoured by hawk-eyed horsemen, who will not spare thee, now that a price hath been set upon thine head." Then, raising his hand before him, westward, towards the dark, low range of distant hills, he added, "Yonder are the Goulbi-n-Kebbi, while to the left thou seest the caravan-route that leadeth to Gando. To venture within towns or villages would be unsafe, therefore we must cross the hills and seek the forest of Tebkis beyond." "Knowest thou the routes in the forest?" I asked. "Yes, I learned them years ago when, in my youth, I accompanied the ivory-traders from Agadez far south, even unto the banks of the mighty Congo." "And the route we are following. Whither will it lead us?" "To the Niger, where dwell the pagans," he answered. "At the river bank I shall leave thee to return to my home." "In thy wanderings in the south thou hast, I suppose, witnessed many strange things," I said, knowing the long, tedious journeys performed by ivory caravans. "For ten weary years I travelled through desert and forest," he answered, "and many strange peoples and strange countries of the pagans have mine eyes beheld." "Yet, during thy travels, hast thou never discovered the Rock of the Great Sin of which the wise men tell?" I asked. It was evident Azala had not disclosed to him the object of my quest, therefore I was determined to ascertain what he knew regarding the strange legend. The old man laughed, shaking his head. "Mine eyes have never been gladdened by its sight, although many are assured that the rock actually existeth, and hideth some wondrous marvel. In twenty lands the conviction is current that the Rock of the Great Sin is more than imaginary. That it existeth, though none can tell where, I have with mine own ears heard from the negroes on the Dua river, as well as those who live in the forests of far Buraka. In Dahomey, in Yorouba, in Foumbina, in the country of Samory, in the desert of the Daza, and in the great swamps of Zoulou beyond Lake Tsad, the same popular conviction existeth as firmly as among our own people. The pagans, while believing as implicitly as we of Al-Islam that the rock is unapproachable, are also imbued with an idea that the very air in its vicinity is poisonous, and to this attribute the fact that nobody has been able to approach sufficiently near to take observations. In Gourma the negroes declare that the rock is by night and day enveloped in a dense, black smoke which veileth it from all human eyes, for their fire-god resideth there and hideth himself in its wondrous fastnesses. The Bedouins of the Digguera entertain a firm-rooted conviction that the river Al-Cawthar and the paradise of those who fall valiantly in battle lieth beyond the mystic rock; the Bazou of the Marpa Mountains, on the other hand, maintain that the rock is the centre of the earth, that it is hollow, and that those who betray their friends, or who attack their blood-brothers, go therein to dwell in fearful torment, while the Kanouri and the Tuaregs declare it to be the abode of all the prophets, martyrs and saints of Al-Islam, who, though believed to be dead have been transported thither unseen. They say the faces of the holy men are blooming, their eyes bright, and blood would issue from their bodies if wounded, and further, that the Angel Israfil watcheth over them, ready to sound the great trumpet on the last day. These, and hundreds of such quaint beliefs have been related to me by negroes, wise men and story-tellers in the course of my wanderings, but the Rock of the Great Sin itself no man hath ever set eyes upon, and I should regard as a maniac any person who went forth expecting to discover it." "Why? Are there not many regions still unknown to men?" I asked. "Truly, but our perspicuous Book telleth us that what Allah hath hidden man should not seek," he answered, piously. "For centuries many have, out of curiosity, sought the strange rock which pagans believe to the abode of their gods, and some sects of Al-Islam assert is the dwelling-place of the mighty dead, but none has discovered it. It is Allah's will that mortal eyes shall never rest upon it, therefore bad fortune and violent death overtake those who defy the divine wrath and attempt to penetrate the mystery." "Always?" "Always," the old man answered, with solemnity. "Upon the inquisitive, Allah, to whom the knowledge belongeth, setteth the mark of his displeasure with the two-edged sword of Death." CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. IN THE WILDERNESS. On over the stony hills called the Goulbi-n-Kebbi, where around us stretched, as far as our wearied eyes could penetrate, a trackless waste of yellow, sunlit sand; on across a desert peopled only with echoes, a wilderness where there was nothing but He, and where the hot, violent wind sent blinding clouds of dust into our faces at every step of our beasts; on over the rough rocks, where a little stunted herbage struggled for an existence, we pressed forward, scarcely halting throughout the blazing, breathless day. Inured as I was to the baking heat and many hardships of desert life, I nevertheless found this journey terribly fatiguing. But Tiamo and I were flying for our lives. To escape south into the unknown Negro-land of Central Africa, beyond the territory of the Sultan 'Othman, was our object, therefore neither of us complained of the pace at which our solemn-faced guide conducted us. At a small oasis, where we found an encampment of Salameat Arabs, we exchanged our camels for asses, and when the sun sank before us three days later we entered the forest of Tebkis by a track which led due south in serpentine wanderings, and compelled us to proceed in single file. Several times old Mohammed drew my attention to the traces of elephants. We had now passed beyond the boundary of the Sultan's Empire, and had at last entered the little-known Land of the Pagans. As we pushed forward the forest became more dense, but the trees with golden shafts of light glinting through the foliage, cast cool shadows, for which we were thankful. Still we travelled on, until, just as it was time for prayers, we reached the site of what had apparently years ago been a large town. "There are sad recollections connected with this spot," Mohammed said, in answer to my inquiries. "In my early youth the town of Kousara, which stood here, was an important place, and to it Ibrahim, Sultan of Sokoto, the predecessor of our present ruler, retired after his palace in Sokoto had been sacked by Magajin Haddedu, King of Katsena, which at that time was an independent state. From here he waged unrelenting but unsuccessful war against the bloody-minded enemies of Al-Islam, and once, indeed, the troops of Haddedu were driven out of the city of Sokoto; but they soon returned with fresh zeal and with a fresh force of fighting-men, and the Sultan Ibrahim was expelled from his ancient capital for ever. Then commenced a campaign against him, in this, his forest retreat, and after several battles this town of Kousara was taken, ransacked and burnt." A solitary colossal baobab, raising its huge, leafless, smoke-blackened frame from the prickly underwood which thickly overgrew the locality, pointed out the market-place, once teeming with life, a half-charred monument of a fierce and desperate struggle for religious and political independence. But in order to get away from this neighbourhood, so full of melancholy associations, Mohammed, cursing and execrating the memory of Haddedu, pushed forward until we came to a large granitic mass projecting from the ground, which my Arab companion called Korrematse, and stated was once a place of worship of the pagans. Here we dismounted and spread our mats for the _maghrib_, afterwards encamping at the wild, deserted spot until dawn, when we moved off still southward, three hours later obtaining our first glimpse of the broad Niger, glittering in the bright morning sunlight. At the river-bank it became a question for me to decide in which direction I should travel upon my strange quest--the nature of which I had been careful not to impart to Mohammed--and at length, knowing that in the north Gando, Borgu and even the fetish city of Nikki had been well explored by traders of my own race, I decided to continue southward, following the river as far as possible, and then striking in the direction of the sunrise across the unexplored regions in search of any information that would lead me to the spot where was promised an elucidation of the indelible mark I bore, and of a mystery which had puzzled the wise men of Al-Islam for centuries. After much parleying and considerable persuasion, Mohammed decided to accompany us through the country of the Nupes, therefore we moved along the river bank through swamps of giant mangroves, those weird trees with gaunt grotesque roots exposed in mid air that seemed to spend their leisure in forming themselves into living conundrums. To the medley of unsightly tree-forms the contrast of the bank of forest which bordered the river-side when the mangrove swamps were past proved a welcome and pleasing contrast. Proceeding with difficulty along a track made by the natives, we found the fringe of forest exquisite both in colouring and form. In colouring, because mingled with every tint of green were masses of scarlet, yellow and purple blossoms; in form, because interlaced with the giant mahogany and cotton trees were the waving, fern-like fronds of the oil palm, and the still more beautiful raphia, as well as colossal silk-cotton trees, veritable giants of the forest. Dum and deleb palms, the kigelia with its enormous branches, the shea, or butter-tree, mimosas, euphorbias, gummiferous acacias, and hundreds of varieties of thorny and scrubby plants. Indeed, as day after day we slowly ascended the river by the narrow winding track, the scene on the opposite side was a panorama of beautiful colour. We met one or two traders of the Franks and many woolly-headed natives, half-clad and wearing strange amulets and curious head-dresses; we passed through many palm-shaded villages, but were unmolested, for being two Arabs travelling alone with a single negro slave we were regarded as traders and not as slave-raiders, or "wicked people," who always appeared suddenly, with an armed band ready to burn, massacre and plunder. Besides, Mohammed had taken a wise precaution before setting out upon the journey. While Shukri Aga, the Governor of Sokoto, had taken coffee with him on the memorable night prior to our departure, he had obtained from him a letter in Arabic, without which credential we might have been regarded with suspicion by the various chiefs through whose territory we travelled. It read:-- "_Praise be unto Allah, Lord of all creatures, and to His Prophet, for the gift of the pen by which we can make known our salutations and our wishes to our friends at a distance. This letter cometh from Shukri Aga, son of Abdul Salami, who was called Kiama, Governor of Sokoto, in the name of the Great Sultan 'Othman, whose actions are directed by the one Allah, with salutations to his friend Mohammed el-Arewa, citizen of Sokoto. Thou art our friend in this affair. Thou art not among the warriors; thou art a traveller in many towns of different people. Look now, he is a traveller on account of buying and selling and of all trades. Thou shouldst hear this. Friendship and respect existeth between us. If he come to you, dismiss him with friendship until he cometh to the end of his journey. Assuredly he is high in favour with the Sultan of our land. Thou shouldst leave this Arab alone. It is trade he requireth of thee; he is not of the wicked people, but peace_." Armed with this letter of introduction we ascended the river, receiving the greatest civility from the industrious people, who, however, were living in daily dread of their lives from the incursions of the wild Borgu raiders. Until we arrived at the town of Lokoja, at the confluence of the Benue river with the Niger, a journey occupying thirteen days, Mohammed remained with us. Then we parted, he to return home by the route of the ivory caravans which ran due north, through Zozo and Zamfara, we to ascend the Benue river in search of the Rock of the Great Sin. When on the morning he embraced me, sprang into his saddle, and raising his hand wished us farewell, I felt that I was parting from an old friend. To him my dwarfed companion and myself owed our lives; to him we owed our safe conduct beyond the clutches of the Sultan's horsemen; to him we owed the letter from the Governor of Sokoto which now reposed in the pocket of my gandoura; to him we owed the directions that we were about to follow, in order to reach the great, unexplored land. "May Allah, peace and safety, attend thee. May the One Merciful guide thy footsteps, be generous to thee, and give thee prosperity," he cried, as he turned to leave. "And may the sun of his grace shine upon thee and illuminate the path of thy return to the true-hearted woman thou lovest. At the _isha_ each night will I remember thee. Farewell, and peace. _Fi amaniillah_." "And upon thee may the Omniscient One ever shower his blessings. May the Prophet be thy protector," I cried in response. But he had cried, "_Yahh! Yahh_!" to his ass, and the beast, thus urged forward, was jogging rapidly away on the first stage of his long journey northwards. My pledge to Azala, and her earnest words that recurred to me, alone prompted me to continue my journey. A wanderer in desert and forest, with the soul of the true-born Bedouin, ever restless, ever moving, I had seen much of that half-civilised life led by the people beyond the influence of the Roumis. In London, cooped up amid the so-called civilisation of the English, their streets and shops, their wonderful buildings, and their women with uncovered faces, I cared nought for study, longing always for the free life of the plains that knows not law. Even of Algiers I had tired, and chosen a wandering existence of my own free will, exiling myself even from my Arab clansmen, and becoming a soldier of the great Mahdi, who, with his contemptuous disregard for human life, had spread the terror of his name in letters of blood. Yet through it all the one mystery of my life, the indelible mark upon my breast, had remained unsolved. Nay, its mystic significance had increased, for having looked with love for the first time upon a woman, I had found that she also bore the mystic device. It was to endeavour to penetrate this mystery, to discover the spot, the reflection of which had appeared often in Kano as a mystic cloud-picture, that I had set out, and I became filled with a determination to strive towards it as long as Allah gave me breath. Forward I would fight my way, and plunge without fear into the trackless, unknown regions of which Mohammed had spoken, and question the people of the various countries eastward, to ascertain if any could direct me to where stood the gloomy Rock of the Great Sin. Accompanied by the ugly dwarf, whose conversation was always quaint, and who entertained me with tales of the prowess of his people, as numerous and varied as those stored within the brain of a Dervish storyteller, we travelled onward day by day, week by week, up the swiftly-flowing Benue, where manioc, pumpkins, yams, kola-nuts, colocasia, rijel, sugar-canes, and the helmia, whose tuberous root resembles the potato in taste and appearance, grew in great abundance through the fertile Foulde country, beneath the high granite crags of Mount Yarita, and at last, leaving the river, a mere stream so small that one could stand with a foot on either bank, we made a long and toilsome ascent, at length finding ourselves upon a great, sandy plateau devoid of herbage. Guiding our course by the sun, we struck one day at dawn due eastward, over great dunes of treacherous shifting sand, into which the feet of our asses sank at every step, rendering progress very slow and extremely difficult. For a long time we were both silent; it was as much as we could do to advance with our animals halting and turning obstinately at every step. Suddenly I was startled by Tiamo crying aloud in dismay, "_Balek! Elgueubeli_!" (Take care! the sandstorm). Then, for the first time, I realised that a strange darkness had fallen, that the morning sun had become utterly obscured by a dense, black cloud, and gigantic sand columns were whirling over the plain at furious speed. Next moment, a howling, tearing wind swept upon us with the force of a tornado. As I twisted my ragged haick quickly about my face, to shield my eyes and mouth, my ass, apprehensive of our danger, veered round with his hindquarters to the tempest. I leaned towards the ass's neck, and felt him tremble beneath me. Then, in an instant, I received a terrific shock; it seemed to me that a camel's pack of sand had fallen all at once upon my head. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. ZU, THE BIRD-GOD. So heavily had I been struck that it was with difficulty I regained my breath and kept my seat. For some minutes the sand whirled about me so thickly that Tiamo, only a leopard's leap away, became obscured in the sudden darkness. With mouth and eyes filled with fine sand I experienced a horrible sensation of being stifled, and clutched frantically at my throat for air, but in a few moments the storm grew less violent, and when I looked for the dwarf he had disappeared. At first it seemed as though the strong wind had carried him completely away, but in a few seconds I discovered him half buried, and struggling in the great ridge of sand that had been formed behind us. Quickly I hastened to his assistance and extricated him, when with his habitual hideous grin, as if amused by his own words, he told me how, being of small weight, the great wind had lifted him from the back of his ass, and rolling him over, buried him in the loose sand. His was indeed a narrow escape, but apparently he was little worse for his exciting experience than myself, and even as we spoke the wind abated, the sky cleared, the sandstorm swept northward on its course to Lake Tsad, and the glaring sun shone again in the dead milk-white sky. For half-an-hour we halted to rest, then recommenced with fresh vigour the painful, tedious march over the dreary waste where Nature made a pause. Four long and wearying days we occupied in traversing that lonely plain, at length descending into a fertile valley, through which a large river ran towards the south-east. This, we learned from a group of dark-skinned natives, who at first threatened us but afterwards became friendly, was known to them as the Ba-bai. The men, savages of coppery hue, were apparently hunters of the Bangbai, a powerful tribe who were constantly carrying carnage and victory far and wide southward, in the direction of the mighty Congo, and who were held in awe by all the neighbouring tribes. Of these Tiamo, who found he could converse with them in his native dialect, inquired whether they had any knowledge of the rock we sought, but with one accord they shook their heads, and replied, raising their bows and spears towards the sky. Their answer, as rendered into Arabic by the dwarf, was,-- "Of the Rock of the Great Sin our fetish-men have told for long ages. It is said to be far away in the sky. It cannot be on the earth, our spear-men have travelled all over the earth, and none has seen it." So, ever failing to find a clue, we continued our way through the lands of the Gaberi and the Sara, along the bank of the Ba-bai, which sometimes wound through wide, rocky wildernesses, at others through valleys where palms and bananas grew in wondrous profusion, and often through forests and mangrove swamps that occupied us many days in traversing, where there was an equatorial verdure of eternal blossom and the foliage was of brightest green. All along the bank of the Ba-bai, as we ascended still further, pressing deeper into the country of the pagans, there were forests of uniform breadth, overshadowing warm, inert waters--forests full of poisonous odours and venomous reptiles. This country, as all of the great land of Central Africa, rested under a spell of sombre gloom and appalling silence; yet it was a great relief for the eye, fevered and weary after the glaring monotony of desert sands. For a whole moon we continued our journey due south along the winding river, until one night we came to a point where the waters broke off in two directions to the north and to the south. Northward, I supposed it would take us away into the desert again, therefore I chose the smaller river running up from the south, and for many days we travelled onward, learning from the natives of a strange little village, who seemed generally well-disposed towards us, that the river was known to them as the Bahar-el-Ardh, and that it had its source in the dense forest where lived the fierce people called the Niam-niam, whose flights of poisoned arrows had killed many of their bravest warriors. Up this river we journeyed many days, until at length, near its source, we came to a village of conical huts, the denizens of which viewed us with suspicion, and threatened us with their long, razor-edged spears. When, however, I had assured the chief, who sat before his little hut, that I was not one of the Wara Sura, the soldiers of the dreaded slave-raider, Kabba Rega, who periodically visited their country, devastated their land and carried off their cattle, and we both became convinced that friendship was possible, the mystery of our presence was explained by Tiamo, that we were only travelling to discover a great rock which was reported to be in their country. Had he ever heard of such a rock? He answered eagerly: "Meanest thou the Great Rock where dwelleth the bird-god Zu, `the wise one'?" "I know not thy gods, for I am a son of Al-Islam, and follower of the Prophet," I replied, through the dwarf. "Tell me of thy bird-god." "Zu dwelleth upon the summit of a high rock," he answered. "It was he who stole the tablets of destiny and the secrets of the sun `god of light,' and brought them down to earth, but he himself was banished to the summit of the Rock of the Great Sin, where he dwelleth alone, and may not descend among us." "And the rock. Hast thou never seen it?" "I have heard of it, but mine eyes have never gazed upon it. Our sacred spots are always hidden from us." "From whom hast thou heard mention of it?" I inquired of this chieftain of the Niam-niam. "Some men of the Avisibba, who were taken prisoners by me in a fight long ago, made mention that one of their headmen had seen it. They knew not its direction, but thought it was beyond the Forest of Perpetual Night." "And the Avisibba. Who are they? Where is their country?" I demanded, eagerly. "Continue up this river for twelve days, until thou comest to a point where three streams diverge. Take the centre one, which in nine days will lead thee through the country of Abarmo to Bangoya, thence, travelling due south for fourteen days, thou wilt reach the great river the Aruwimi, upon the banks of which dwell the man-eaters of the Avisibba." "Man-eaters!" I gasped. "Do they eat human flesh?" The chief smiled as Tiamo put my question to him. "Yea," he answered. "They eat their captives, therefore have a care of thine own skin. Mention no word that thou hast seen me, or, being our enemies, thou wilt assuredly die." I thanked him for his directions, and prepared to resume my weary quest, but he bade me be seated, and his wives prepared a feast for myself and my dark companion. Heartily enough we ate, for the food we had brought with us had given out long ago. One's living in that region, unexplored only by ivory and slave-raiders, was, to say the least, precarious; partaking of a savage's hospitality one day, and the next thanking Allah for a single wood-bean. But through our many hardships Tiamo never grumbled. He fingered his amulets, and presumably prayed to his gods, but no word of dissatisfaction ever fell from his lips. Though gloomy and taciturn, he proved an excellent travelling companion, and his devotion towards his mistress Azala was unequalled. When his mind was made up, he was a man of great nerve, fertile resource, and illimitable daring. At the invitation of the chief of the Niam-niam, we smoked and remained that night within his village, circular and stockaded to keep out the wild animals, then at dawn gave him a piece of cloth and bade him farewell. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. THE FOREST OF PERPETUAL NIGHT. Onward, along the track by the river bank, penetrating deeper and deeper into the great, limitless, virgin forest of the Congo--that region absolutely unknown to civilised man--we proceeded by paths very infrequently employed, under dark depths of bush, where our progress was interrupted every few minutes by the tangle. For food, we had tubers of manioc; for drink, the water of the river. Approaching the native town of Bangoya, I climbed into a tree to view it; but not liking the savage look of the people, we avoided the place, and, acting on the advice we had received, left the river bank and turned towards the great Forest of Perpetual Night, striking due south in search of the Aruwimi river, and the cannibals of the Avisibba, who knew the whereabouts of the Rock of the Great Sin. As we left the river we commenced to tramp over primeval swamps, almost impenetrable, and low-lying land that had been submerged by the winter flood. We were alone, in a trackless, unexplored land, far from cities and the ways of men. The moon glanced in through the leaf gaps, like a face grown white with fear; the bright-plumaged birds fluttered and chattered, disturbed, and a wind stole through the tree tops, with a sound like the roar of ocean's wrath heard in the calm of ocean's depths. Nor foot of man, nor foot of beast had trodden large areas of those pathless thickets--save, perhaps, some homeless elephant--since the days of an elder creation, and one's imagination could fancy the giant lizards and extinct amphibians without incongruity in such desolate wilds. In parts all Nature was still, in that wide, pestilential swamp that gave entrance to the virgin forest; neither bird nor monkey disturbed the silence, unless it be a crocodile moving slowly in the ooze, a long-legged wader, or a solemn crane. Soon, however, the ground became drier, the trees more thick, and at last we plunged into the wonderful forest of which I had long ago heard so much from negro slaves, even away in far-off Omdurman--the huge, towering forest and jungly undergrowth that covers an area of over three hundred thousand square miles of the centre of the African continent. Here, one can travel for six whole moons, through forest, bush and jungle, without seeing a piece of grassland the size of a praying-mat. Nothing but leagues and leagues--endless leagues of gigantic, gloomy forest, in various stages of growth, and various degrees of altitude, according to the ages of the trees, with varying thickness of undergrowth, according to the character of the foliage, which afforded thicker or slighter shade. Throughout many days we strode on fast through the mighty trees, and forced our way onward, travelling always southward as near as we could guess, through this primeval forest, a journey fraught with more terrors than any we had previously experienced. The great trunks, gloomy, gaunt and sombre, grew so thickly as to shut out the blessed light of the sun, therefore, even at high noon, there was only twilight, and, for many hours each day, we were in darkness--impenetrable and appalling. Had it not been that I was convinced we should ere long reach the Aruwimi, I should have turned back, but, once having plunged into that trackless forest, there was no returning. The attacks upon us by insects drove us almost to the verge of madness. By day tiny beetles bored underneath the skin and pricked one like needles; the mellipona bee troubled one's eyes; ticks, small and large, sucked one's blood; wasps in swarms came out to the attack as we passed their haunts; the tiger-slug dropped from the branches and left his poisonous hairs in the pores of the skin; and black ants fell from the trumpet-trees as we passed underneath, and gave us a foretaste of Al-Hawiyat. At night there were frequent storms; trees were struck by the lightning, and the sound of the tempest-torn foliage was like the roar of the breakers on a rocky shore. Snakes, chimpanzees and elephants were among our companions, while the crick of the cricket, the shrill, monotonous piping of the cicada, the perpetual chorus of frogs, the doleful cry of the lemur were among the sounds that rendered night in that lone land hideous and repulsive. Suffering severely from hunger, without light or sunshine, and compelled to be ever on the alert lest we should be attacked, it was a journey full of terrors. The tribes of the forest were, I knew, the most vicious on the face of the earth, and every noise of breaking twigs, or of the falling of decayed branches, caused us to halt with our rifles in readiness. The legs of our asses had been rendered bare by the myriads of insects, and the centipedes, mammoth beetles and mosquitoes caused us considerable pain, yet that unexplored forest was full of fascinating wonders. Many of the trees, weird and grotesque, were centuries old, and some giants--the teak, the camwood, the mahogany, the green-heart, the stinkwood, the ebony, the copal-wood with its glossy foliage, the arborescent mango, the wild orange with delicate foliage, stately acacias, and silver-boled wild fig towered to enormous heights, and over them, from tree to tree, ran millions of beautiful vines, streaming with countless tendrils, with the bright green of orchid leaves. Great lengths of whip-like calamus lianes twisted like dark serpents, masses of enormous flowering convolvuli and red knots of amoma and crimson dots of phrynia berries were confusedly intertwined and matted until all light from heaven was obscured, except a stray beam here and there which told that the sun was shining and it was day above. The midnight silence of the forest dropped about us like a pall. As we struggled onward, existing as best we could upon roots and fruit, and with our clothes torn to shreds by the brambles, thoughts of Azala constantly occurred to me. Of time I had kept no count, but already four moons must have passed since I had left Kano. Perhaps the conspiracy between the Khalifa and Khazneh, Aga of the Women, had been carried out, but having sent warning of it by Ayehsa to Azala, I felt assured that the woman I loved would place his Majesty on his guard, and the base machinations of the pair of scoundrels would be frustrated, and the Empire saved from those who were seeking its overthrow. Azala trusted in me to elucidate the mystery. Her deep, earnest request uttered before we parted, rang ever in my ears in that trackless, lonely region, her words stimulated me to strive onward to ascertain from the fierce savages of the Avisibba the whereabouts of the Rock of the Great Sin. "What time has elapsed since we set forth?" I asked of Tiamo, one day as we plodded doggedly forward. "Nearly four moons, O master," he answered, promptly. "See! I have notched the days upon my gun's stock," and he held out his gun, showing how he had preserved a record of time. I told him to continue to keep count of each day, then asked him if anxiety or fear possessed him. "I am the slave of the beauteous Lalla, sent on a quest to bring her peace. Thou art her devoted friend. While thou leadest me I fear not to follow," and mumbling, he fingered his amulets. "Be it as Allah willeth," I said. "Peradventure he will reward us, and gladden our eyes with a sight of the mystic rock. If it is anywhere on earth it is in these regions, unknown to all but the ivory-raiders who come up from the Congo and return thither." "Let us search, O master," the dwarf, said encouragingly. "Though our stomachs are empty and our feet sore from long tramping, yet if we continue we shall find the river." "Bravely spoken, Tiamo," I answered. "Thou art well named El-Sadic. Yea, we will continue our search, for with a light heart and perseverance much can be accomplished. Though of small stature, thou hast indeed a stout heart." He grinned with satisfaction, and we trudged onward in silence through the falling gloom, resolved to bear our weariness bravely for the sake of the beautiful woman who, imprisoned in the great, far-off palace, was watching and waiting anxiously for our return to release her by solving the secret. The strange device that seemed to link our lives puzzled me even in that dark forest, and many hours I remained silent, wondering whether I should ever ascertain how we both came to bear marks exactly similar in every detail. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. A PAGAN LAND. In that dull, dispiriting gloom I knew not the time of the _maghrib_ or the _isha_, nor the direction of the Ka'abah of the Holy City, nevertheless I spread my mat and prayed fervently to Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful, to allow the light of his blessing to shine upon me and guide my footsteps to where I might obtain the clue I sought. Tiamo stood regarding me with a look which plainly told that he considered my prayers as mere empty forms and ceremonies. One of his peculiarities was that he believed not in Allah nor in his apostle Mohammed, and holding the pious in contempt, he placed faith in spirits, magic and sacrifices to the pagan deities. Having toiled on in the forest for twenty days and discovering no sign of the Aruwimi, we began seriously to doubt whether we were not penetrating those sunless glades in the wrong direction, and travelling parallel with the river instead of towards its bank. Without sun or star to guide us, we were wandering beneath the giant trees, the foliage and creepers of which had become so dense that now and then further progress in that depressing darkness seemed impossible. Yet ever and anon we found tracks of elephants and hippopotami, which we took, our eyes ever strained before us to behold some welcome gleam of light which would show us where ran the river. All was dark, gloomy, rayless. Though neither of us admitted it, we both were aware that we were lost amid that primeval mass of tropical vegetation, into the depths of which even the savages themselves dare not venture. We had one day crossed a number of small swamps, and thick, scum-faced quagmires, green with rank weeds, emitting a stench most sickening, and on emerging from the foetid slough into which our feet sank at every step, a dozen black heads suddenly appeared above the undergrowth. Next second, ere we could recover from our surprise, the weird echoes of the forest were awakened by fiendish yells, as twenty black warriors, veritable companions of the left hand, wearing strange head-dresses with black tufts of feathers, and unclothed save for a piece of bark-cloth around their loins, and a thick pad of goat-skin on the left arm to protect it from the bow string, bounded towards us, running long and low, with heads stretched forward and spears trailing, shouting, brandishing their long, broad-headed weapons, and drawing their bows ready to send their poisoned arrows through our bodies. They had evidently lain in ambush, believing us to be scouts of Kabba Rega, or of Ugarrowwa, Abed bin Salem, or some other ivory-raider from the Congo, and so suddenly did they appear, screaming, threatening and gesticulating, that I deemed it best to throw down my rifle and raised my hands to show I had no hostile intent. Seized quickly by these tall, slim, thick-lipped, monkey-eyed men, who bore quivers full of arrows smeared freshly with a dark, copal-coloured substance, we were dragged onward in triumph for nearly two hours, preceded by a band of leaping, exultant warriors who, from the interest they took in our asses and the close manner in which they all scrutinised them, I judged had never seen such animals before. One of our captors, snatching my rifle from my grasp, held it aloft in glee, crying,-- "Tippu-tib! Tippu-tib!" whereat his companions laughed and yelled triumphantly. This incident brought to my memory that the renown of the relentless slave-raider Tippu-Tib had reached Omdurman, and that this name had been bestowed upon him by the natives because the noise made by the rifles of his dreaded band sounded like "tippu-tib." This savage's joy when, a few moments later, on touching the trigger the rifle discharged, was unbounded. The others crowded around him, chattering and gesticulating like apes, then finding they could not cause another explosion they handed it to me, compelling me to reload it. Again it was fired, one of the dusky denizens of the forest narrowly escaping, for the bullet struck his head-dress and carried it away, much to the amusement of his companions. While this was proceeding our position was exceedingly critical. As prisoners in the hands of these vicious warriors our lives were in greatest danger, and whither they were hurrying us we knew not. As in sorry plight we were dragged forward, Tiamo addressed a question to one of the sinewy savages who held him. At first it was apparent that their tongue was different to any he knew, but after some questions and replies, the dwarf, in a wail of dismay, cried to me in Arabic,-- "We are lost, O master! We are lost!" "Keep a stout heart," I answered. "We may yet escape." "Alas! never," he answered, in despair. "We have fallen into the hands of the ghoulish Avisibba!" "It is these men of whom we have been in search," I observed. "Yea, O master! But have we not been told that they kill and eat their captives? Have we not been warned that they are among the fiercest cannibals of the Forest of the Congo?" The truth of his assertion I could not deny. I glanced at the two half-nude warriors who held me, and saw their white teeth had been filed to points. The distinguishing mark upon their bodies appeared to be double rows of tiny cicatrices across the chest and abdomen; they wore wristlets of polished metal, several small rings in their ears, and around their necks I distinguished in the twilight objects which caused me to shudder in horror. Each wore around his neck a string of human teeth! Roughly they dragged us onward, until presently we struck a native path tramped by travel to exceeding smoothness and hardness, but so narrow that we were compelled to walk in single file through the dense jungle. The path diverged suddenly at a point where a tree trunk had fallen across it, and this point was avoided by my captors, who, instead of stepping over the obstruction, plunged into the jungle and rejoined the path further on. The reason of this I was not slow in ascertaining. I found that in that fallen tree was one of the defences of the village we were approaching. Just beyond the trunk, where the stranger would place his foot in stepping over it, these crafty forest satyrs had placed a number of sharp skewers smeared with arrow-poison, concealed by dead leaves that had apparently floated down from the trees. Therefore, an enemy approaching would receive a puncture, which in a few minutes would result in death. Suddenly, through the gnarled boles of the trees before us, we saw a gleam of blue sky, and shortly afterwards found ourselves at a small clearing on the bank of a broad river, which our captors told us was the Nouellie, or, as some termed it, the Aruwimi. At the bank two war-canoes were moored near a small village, and our asses having been carefully tethered we were placed in one of the boats, and, escorted by the remainder of the yelling, exultant cannibals, rowed up the winding river a considerable distance, keeping along the opposite bank. It was evident we were to be taken to the principal village, being regarded as valuable prizes. Accustomed as my companion and myself had grown to the perpetual twilight, the sudden sunlight and brilliance of day dazzled us. The waters seemed stagnant and motionless; the sun was at its zenith, and the heat so terrible that even the black rowers, in spite of their exultation at having captured two strangers, ceased rowing for a few moments, keeping in the deep shadows of the mangroves and allowing the canoe to drift. Again they rowed, and the boat, dividing the waters, continued its sinuous course up the river, threading its way quickly between the sombre forests. Upon the banks we could see great blue alligators, stretched lazily in the mud, their slimy mouths agape, as on their backs perched tiny, white birds, resting to plume themselves. On the entwining, interlacing roots of the mangroves, brilliant martin-fishers and curious lizards took their afternoon siesta, while butterflies, with gorgeous wings, flitted here and there, sparkling like jewels in the sunshine. The scene was brilliant and beautiful after the darkness of the Great Forest, but we had no time to admire the river's charms, for in a few moments our canoe was turned suddenly into a creek, our captors sprang ashore, dragging us out, and while several men ran on in front to announce in the village the arrival of prisoners, the others pushed us forward with scant politeness. As soon as we came within sight of the village--a large collection of low huts surrounded by a tall palisade, which we learned was called Avisibba--hundreds of yelling savages of both sexes came forth to meet us, and as we were triumphantly dragged along the wide space between the two rows of huts, the crowd pressed around us, heaping curses upon us, and causing a continual and ear-splitting din. Between the village and the Aruwimi was a belt of forest about two gunshots wide. Each house was surrounded by strong, tall palisades of split logs, higher than a man, which rendered the place defensible even against rifles, and as we were marched into the centre of the place with our captors holding up our rifles, exhibiting them to the people, I noticed their threatening expressions. The populace were urging their warriors to kill us, and I feared the worst. Pondering on the difficulties of the situation, I could discern no ray of hope for the success of my mission. When, however, our belongings had been thoroughly examined by the people in the centre of the village, the excitement slowly abated, and after every man, woman and child had come to gaze upon us with open-mouthed curiosity, we were lashed securely to two trees opposite one another and left to our own sad thoughts while our savage captors leaped, beat their tam-tams and held great rejoicings within our sight, pointing in our direction and capering gleefully before us. In the centre of the village we could see men and women busily constructing some kind of platform of roughly-hewn logs. Transfixed with horror, our breath came and went quickly. We knew that these people were fierce cannibals of bad repute, and, bound and helpless, dreaded the worst. They were erecting a kind of rude altar whereon our life-blood was to be shed, and our hearts torn out and held up to the execration of the dusky, screaming mob. CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. AVISIBBA. Slowly the shadows lengthened as the fierce, chattering horde ran hither and thither, scattering the goats and fowls in their haste to prepare the platform. Upon a large and malodorous refuse-heap, close to the spot where we were secured, many human skulls and bones had been flung, showing only too plainly that the Avisibba were eaters of human flesh. The sun-blanched skulls, of which there were scores, thrilled us with horror, for their presence spoke mutely of the horrible fate awaiting us. Presently, something white attracted my attention at a little distance beyond the pile of village refuse, and almost at the same moment we both discovered that we were not the only prisoners in the hands of the Avisibba, but that two other men were secured to large stakes at a little distance from us. The white garment that had attracted my attention was a burnouse, and, to my amazement, I saw that its wearer was an Arab, and that his companion in misfortune was a half-clothed savage of a dusky copper hue. "Hail! Son of Al-Islam! Whence comest thou?" I shouted in Arabic, endeavouring to attract his attention. But my greeting was lost amid the shrill yells and unceasing chatter of our merciless captors. A group of the black warriors, each wearing a strip of bark-cloth and a necklet of human teeth, noticing my effort to arouse my fellow-prisoner, leaped before me, gesticulating, shouting gleefully, grinning from ear to ear and rubbing their paunches with their hands with lively anticipation. Again I shouted to my luckless fellow-prisoner, but Tiamo remarked, "See! his chin hath fallen upon his breast. The sun hath stricken him, and he hath lost consciousness. Only his cords save him from falling prone to earth." The dwarf spoke the truth. No doubt my co-religionist had remained bound to the stake during the whole day, and there being no shade, thirst and heat had consumed him. Whence he came was a complete mystery. I was unaware that any Arab had penetrated the terrible Forest of Perpetual Night, and it suddenly occurred to me that possibly there might be some approach to the Aruwimi from the sun-lit land of Al-Islam other than that we had traversed. From these fierce, pugnacious savages, who set no value upon human life, I could obtain knowledge of the whereabouts of the Rock of the Great Sin! They were indeed of those who have erred and denied Allah as a falsehood, and who shall eat of the fruit of the tree of Al-Zakkum, and fill their bellies therewith, and shall drink boiling water. I looked upon the strange, weird group dancing around us, ready to take our lives and cast our bones upon the refuse-heap, wondering how I could propitiate them and obtain the knowledge I sought. "Speak unto them, Tiamo," I cried. "Explain that we are not enemies; that we are only belated wayfarers in search of the Great Rock." The dwarf addressed them, but apparently they did not catch the meaning of his words, for they only laughed the more. "A hundred times, O my master, have I told them of our quest," Tiamo answered, dolefully. "But, alas! they will not listen. They declare that we are spies of Kaba Rega; that we shall die." "Are the others spies?" I inquired. "I know not. They will not loosen their tongues' strings." It was evident we were in a very critical position, and I cried unto Allah to place before me the shield of his protection. Years ago I had heard, during my studies at the French Lycee at Algiers, that almost all the races in the Great Forest of the Congo practise cannibalism, although in some parts it is prevented by the presence of white civilisation. An extensive traffic in human flesh prevails in many districts, slaves being kept and sold as articles of food. Contrary to an ignorant yet very generally accepted theory, the negro man-eater never eats flesh raw, and certainly takes human flesh as food purely and simply, and not from religious or superstitious reasons. Among the Avisibba we saw neither grey-haired persons, halt, maimed nor blind, for even parents were eaten by their children on the approach of the least sign of old age. We saw skulls used as drinking-vessels, and even as we waited, breathlessly apprehensive of our fate, we witnessed our captors piling up a great fire near the platform with dried sticks and leaves. So full of horror was each moment that it seemed an hour. The excitement in the village increased. Men brandishing their spears, and women wearing bunches of freshly-plucked leaves at the back of their loin-cloths in honour of the coming feast, leaped, danced and roared with bull voices. Little black children came and looked at me curiously, no doubt remarking upon the whiteness of my skin in comparison with theirs; then ran away, dancing and clapping their hands, infected with the wild, savage glee of their elders. The sun sank, the dusk deepened, and as there gathered the shadows of a starless night, the blazing fire in the centre of the village threw a red, lurid glare upon the fantastic-looking huts, the crowds of savages, and the thick foliage of the primeval forest by which we were surrounded. Presently there was a great stir among the warriors, mats were hurriedly spread beneath a sickly dwarf tree near to where we were, the great ivory horns gave forth mellow blares, reminding me of the Khalifa's Court at Omdurman, and from among the excited crowd the chief of the Avisibba, a tall, thin-featured savage, wearing a fine leopard-skin, advanced and seated himself upon the low stool placed for him. The flickering light from the fire showed that beneath the strange square helmet of burnished copper, surmounted by a large bunch of parrot's feathers, was a face full of humour, pleasure and contentment. When the whole village had assembled before him, pointing towards us, shouting and gesticulating violently, he suddenly turned and spoke briefly and low to his sub-chiefs and satellites. There was an instant's silence until the sub-chiefs spoke. Then wild, piercing yells, truly the war-cry of cannibals, awakened the echoes of the forest as the whole dusky horde rushed off to where our fellow-captives were secured. It was evident they were to be sacrificed first. A few moments later the bonds that had held the copper-hued negro to the stake were loosened, and he was hurried by a dozen warriors into the presence of their chief, amid a storm of triumphant cries. The courage displayed by the unfortunate captive was indomitable. Folding his arms, he stood before the chief of his enemies, gazing upon him with withering contempt. The onlookers were silent. The chief, squatting upon his low, six-legged stool, uttered some fierce words, apparently interrogating him, to which the doomed man replied with scornful gesture. Again the tall warrior in the copper helmet gave the victim a quick glance, his eyes gleaming with unearthly glitter in his almost featureless face, and repeated his question; but the proud forest-dweller reared his tall body up, raising his voice until his words reached me. Tiamo was equally startled with myself, for the half-naked savage was speaking in Arabic, apparently ignorant of the tongue of the cannibals. Standing calmly before the chief, he delivered some terrible curses upon him, while the crowd of savages were silent, striving to understand his meaning. "Thou art a dog, and a son of a dog," he shouted. "Cursed is he who breaketh his plighted vow; cursed is he who nourisheth secret hate; cursed is he who turneth his back upon his friend; cursed is he who in the day of war turneth his back against his brother; cursed is he who eateth the flesh of his enemies; cursed is he who defileth his mouth with human blood; cursed is he who deviseth evil to his friend whose blood has become one with his own. May sickness waste his strength and his days be narrowed by disease; may his limbs fail him in the day of battle, and may his arms stiffen with cramps; may the adder wait for him by the path, and may the lion meet him on his way; may the itch make him loathsome and the hair of his head be lost by the mange; may the arrow of his enemies pin his entrails, and may the spear of his brother be dyed in his vitals. May a blight fall upon thine accursed land, O Sheikh! May thy wives be seized as slaves by the pigmies of the Wambutti, and may the vengeance of Allah, the One Mighty and Just, descend upon thee. May thy face be rolled in hell-fire, and thy torment be perpetual; may the flame and smoke surround thee like a pavilion, and if thou cravest relief may thy thirst by slacked by the water that shall scald thy countenance like molten brass. I am in thy hands; verily, Allah will punish him who taketh the life of a Believer. Whoever shall have wrought evil shall be thrown on his face into the fire unquenchable." The fierce rabble gazed at each other, puzzled and unable to understand a single syllable. "Well spoken!" I cried excitedly, in Arabic. "If it is Allah's will that we die, we fear not. It is written that the One Omniscient favoureth the Faithful, and lighteneth his burden." The captive started at hearing words in the tongue he understood, and turned in my direction; but we were in the shadow, therefore it was evident he could not distinguish us. The silence was unbroken for a few seconds, save by the ominous crackling of the fire, while the chief consulted with his satellites; then the latter, waving their hands, uttered some words. A big warrior placed the ivory horn to his lips and blew thrice lustily, and in a moment the scene was one of intense excitement. Fifty impatient pairs of hands seized the luckless man, and allowing him no further utterance, hurried him away to the small platform ten yards distant, within full view of us. Scarce daring to look, I held my breath. The howls of wild beasts were heard in the forest. Yet curiosity prompted me to ascertain in what mode my own life was shortly to be taken, and I gazed, fascinated, at the black figures moving and dancing in the red light thrown by the burning branches, like demons let loose from Al-Hawiyat. Suddenly a shrill scream of agony rent the night air, and sent a thrill of horror through me. Then I could see that our captors had stretched the unfortunate wretch upon his stomach on the planks of the platform, and while twenty pairs of hands held him firmly down, incantations were being uttered by a man shaking pebbles in a magic gourd, while at the same time a black giant was wielding a huge club of black wood, relentlessly breaking the bones of the victim's arms and legs. I closed my eyes to shut out the sight. With the wild Ansar of the Khalifa I had witnessed many fearful tortures to which prisoners had been subjected, but never before had I seen a man's limbs crushed in so methodical and heartless a manner. The victim's screams and groans grew fainter until they ceased entirely, for he had lost consciousness under the excruciating pain. When again I summoned courage to glance in his direction, I observed that four men had seized him, and were carrying his inanimate form towards the narrow stream that flowed swiftly by on its way to join the Aruwimi. The fire, at that moment stirred by an enthusiast, illumined the village brilliantly, enabling me to watch the subsequent movements of these ghoulish fiends. At first it appeared that they were about to wash or drown their captive, but such proved not to be the case, for three of the men jumped into the stream, and, pulling in the helpless victim, still alive, they tied him to a stake in the water, with his head firmly fixed in a forked stick above the surface, in order to prevent him from committing suicide by drowning on regaining consciousness. Then I remembered that long ago I had heard a rumour that this tribe were in the habit of placing the body, thus mutilated and still living, in water for periods varying from two hours to two or three days, on the supposition that this pre-mortem treatment rendered the flesh more palatable. I shuddered. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. THE IVORY RAIDERS. Those moments were full of torments, fears and anxieties. Neither Tiamo nor myself uttered a word. We knew our fate, and awaited it, overwhelmed by misfortune. Assuredly a grievous punishment is prepared for the unjust. For many moons we had toiled onward together, surmounting every obstacle, penetrating the Forest of Perpetual Night, wherein none from the north had ever dared to venture, until our features had become famine-sharpened, and our feet blistered and torn. Yet we had endured the privations, faced the terrors of the dark, dismal forest, and the poisoned arrows of hidden enemies; had fed for weeks upon the flat wood-beans, acid wild fruit and strange fungi, encouraged to strive for existence by the knowledge that here, amid these primitive denizens of the woods, we could obtain a clue to the whereabouts of the mystic rock we sought--the spot where was promised a solution of the one extraordinary mystery of my life. Never once had Tiamo hesitated or failed. He was as true to me as to his mistress, Azala, and ofttimes in the depths of the great, gloomy region he had urged me to look forward with hope to a triumphant return to Kano and to the graceful, true-hearted woman who loved me so dearly. But having fallen into the hands of the Avisibba all further progress towards the mystic Land of the No Return was arrested. Vainly I had looked about for some mode of escape, but, alas! could discover none. With these fierce warriors all argument and declarations of friendship had proved futile. They were man-eaters, who looked upon all captives as lawful food; and we knew that our fate could not be much longer delayed. The Arab, who had not yet regained consciousness, was the next victim dragged into the chief's presence. Quickly he was divested of his burnouse, and the chief, rising with imperious gesture, bade his attendants array him in the cloak of his prisoner. As he wrapped it about him with a self-satisfied air, the people raised their voices in admiration, and at a sign dragged the unconscious wretch towards his doom. Already the pebbles rattled in the magic gourd, and above the chatter of the dusky rabble, incantations were sounding loudly, when my eyes, turned purposely from the horrible sight, suddenly caught a glimpse of an object slowly moving over the roof of plantain-leaves that covered one of the huts. Again I looked, with eyes strained into the dark night, and distinguished the figure of a man, lying full length upon the roof, creep cautiously along and peer over at the weird scene. Suddenly another dark head appeared against the night sky, and as I glanced around at other huts, I saw a man lying flat upon the roof of each. Almost before I could fully realise that the operations of the cannibals were being watched so narrowly, a red flash of fire showed where the first mysterious figure was kneeling, followed by the report of a gun, and next second the chief fell forward from his stool, dead--shot through the heart. Startled by the report, the whole village was instantly in confusion, but ere they could discover whence the shot was fired, a withering volley was poured into them from the roofs of the huts, by which many fell dead and wounded. Then we became aware that the village was the object of attack, and, by the flashing of the guns on every side, knew it was surrounded. The ivory horn was sounded, and the Avisibba responded with alacrity to the call to arms, but volley after volley was poured into the centre of the place, and bullets were whistling about us and tearing their way through the foliage overhead. The first shot had been well aimed, but although their chief was dead, the warriors, shouting defiance in loud, strident tones, seized their spears, shields and bows, and commenced to shoot their poisoned arrows wherever a flash betrayed the position of an enemy. Who, we wondered, were the assailants? Their possession of guns told us nothing, as many of the cannibal tribes near the Congo possess firearms. Nevertheless, the attack would probably result in our lives being spared, therefore we pressed ourselves as closely as we could to the trees to which we were bound and awaited the result. For fully five minutes our mysterious assailants kept up a rapid rifle fire. The air was filled with the uproar of the shouts, as the mass of noisy, lusty-voiced cannibals defended their homes with arrow and spear, but, finding that each volley maimed or killed some of their number, they at length swarmed out of the roughly-made wooden gate of the village to repel the attack in the open, leaving their women and children behind. The great fire burned low, but upon the platform I could distinguish the inanimate form of the Arab, stretched as it had been left, and the body of the cannibal chief was still lying where it had fallen, his plumed helmet having been assumed by his son. Beyond the stockade enclosing the rows of huts, the din of heavy firing increased, and the yells of the savages rose louder as the fight continued, until, at length, one or two wounded natives staggered back to their homes and fell to earth, each being quickly surrounded by a chattering crowd of excited women. At length the savage shrieks outside sounded fainter, the firing seemed to recede, as if the natives had taken to the forest, and their assailants were following them, when suddenly, from the roofs there dropped a dozen men, wearing white gandouras, firing their guns indiscriminately at the women, in order to frighten them into submission as prisoners, and, as they did this, about two hundred others swarmed in from the opposite direction, having entered by the gate. I stood staring at them--amazed. They were shouting in my own tongue!-- they were Arabs! To two of the men who rushed past us, I cried in Arabic to release me; and, finding I was one of their race, and that Tiamo was my slave, they quickly drew their _jambiyahs_ and severed our bonds. Delighted, we both dashed forward, and regained freedom. A dozen of our rescuers were trying to resuscitate their unfortunate tribesman lying on the planks, and were so far successful that he was soon able to stand. The attack had been delivered just at the right moment; had it been delayed another instant his limbs would have been shattered by the heavy mace. Meanwhile, into the village there continued to pour large numbers of Arabs, with their negro allies, and, while some secured and bound the women and children as slaves, the remainder entered and looted the huts of everything that was considered of value. Once or twice, men near me received wounds from the arrows of a few cannibals lurking around corners, therefore, I deemed it prudent to seize the gun and ammunition bag of a dead Arab, an example imitated by Tiamo. Up to this moment we knew not the identity of our half-caste rescuers, for all were so excited that we could learn nothing. Presently, however, when the women and children had been marched outside to join the warriors who had been taken as prisoners, I gave one of the Arabs "peace," and expressed thanks for my timely rescue. "It is Allah's work, O friend. Thank him," he answered, piously. "Of what tribe art thou? Whence comest thou?" I inquired, eagerly. "We come from the Kivira (forest). We are the men of Tippu-Tib," he answered. "Tippu-Tib!" I echoed, dismayed, well-knowing that these ferocious bandits were the ivory-raiders whose sanguinary and destructive marches were common talk, even in Omdurman. Tippu-Tib was, according to rumour in the Soudan, the uncrowned king of the region between Stanley Falls and Tanganyika Lake, for thousands of Arabs had flocked to his standard, and his well-armed caravans were dreaded everywhere throughout the Great Upper Congo Forest. In their search for stores of ivory they had, I afterwards learnt, levelled into black ashes every settlement they entered, enslaved the women and children, destroyed their plantain groves, split their canoes, searched every spot where ivory might be concealed, killed as many natives as craft and cruelty would enable them, and tortured others into disclosing where the treasure was hidden. These bandits were now marching through the Great Forest for the sole purpose of pillage and murder, to kill the adult aborigines, capture the women and children for the Arab, Manyuema and Swahili harems, and seize all the ivory they could discover. In the wholesale slaughter that preceded the burning of the Avisibba village not a man was spared. The fight ended in a ghastly massacre. Some escaped into the depths of the forest, but the others were shot down to the last man. Then the fighting-men and slave-carriers searched every nook in the village until at length the chief's store of ivory, consisting of over eighty fine tusks, was discovered secreted in a pit beneath one of the huts, and being unearthed, amid much excitement was distributed among the carriers. Afterwards the village was burned to the ground. Truly report had not lied when it attributed to the men of Tippu-Tib the most revolting, heartless cruelty and wanton destruction. We had been rescued from a horrible death, but swiftly indeed had the curses of the man whose limbs had been so brutally crushed fallen upon the savage chief; swiftly indeed had Allah's wrath fallen upon the village. Both our fellow-captives had, I learned, been scouting at dawn on that day, and been seized by the Avisibba. Tippu-Tib was not present in person, preferring to remain away in the far south, near Ujiji, while his men gathered wealth for him; his head men, it was said, being rewarded with all ivories weighing from twenty to thirty pounds, all over that weight belonging to him, and those under being kept by the finders. By this arrangement every man in the caravan was incited to do his best, and it is little wonder that they should descend upon villages without mercy, each fighting-man and slave seeking to obtain the largest share of slaves, ivory and other loot. It is not surprising either that the very names of Tippu-Tib, Kilonga-Longa, Ugarrowwa, Mumi Muhala, Bwana Mohamed and other ivory-raiders, should be held in awe by the natives of the great tracts of primeval forest and grassland, covering thousands of square miles, between the country of the Niam-Niam and Lake Kassali and between Lake Leopold II and the unexplored Lake of Ozo. There was delay in distributing the burdens among the carriers, delay in securing the sorrowing band of Avisibba women and children, delay in packing up the loot for transportation, and in cooking and eating the fowls, plantain flour, manioc and bananas which had been found in the huts. Therefore it was not until the shadows of the trees, creeping on as the sun passed overhead, reminded the raiders that the day was wearing on, that they left the smouldering ashes of the village to resume the march. During the great feast that followed the fight, I had explained to Ngalyema, the half-breed headman, that I was an Arab from the north, and related how I and my slave had been seized in the forest and brought to the village as captives. When he had listened intently to my story, he said, laughing,-- "Allah hath willed thy release. Join our expedition and share the ivory with us, for assuredly we have been favoured on our journey, and have secured many tusks and hundreds of slaves," and he lolled upon his arm and pulled apart a piece of fowl with his fingers. Finding I was a true-bred Arab, he had placed me on a social level with himself, and spoke openly. "Whither goest thou?" I inquired. "Eastward, up the river to Ipoto, where our headquarters are at present established. Thence we shall continue to ascend the Ituri to Kavalli's, and afterwards to the grasslands that border the Albert Nyanza. But what mission bringest thou hither from the far north, without fighting-men?" he asked, looking at me sharply. "I am in search of a spot, the direction of which none knoweth save Allah," I answered, it having suddenly occurred to me, that perhaps, in the course of his wanderings, he might have obtained the knowledge of which I was in search. "What is its name?" "It is a wondrous black crag, and is known to those who live in the deserts as the Rock of the Great Sin." "The Rock of the Great Sin!" he slowly repeated, gazing at me in astonishment. "Thou, O friend, art not alone in seeking to discover it?" "Not alone?" I cried. "Who seeketh it beside myself?" "A white man who came to Uganda by smoke-boat across the Victoria Nyanza." "What was his name?" I asked, eagerly. "I know not. He was a Roumi of the English, and one of Allah's accursed." "Didst thou have speech with him?" "Yea, he sought me at Masaka eight moons ago, and knowing that I had led my master's caravan across the forest may times, asked me whether I could direct him to the Rock of the Great Sin, and--" "And didst thou guide him thither?" I demanded, breathlessly. "Nay. He offered two bags of gold and ten guns to any who would guide him thither, but unfortunately neither myself nor any of my followers knew its whereabouts." "Why did this tou bab (European) desire to discover it?" I asked. "He did not reveal. I told him that within the rock was the place of torment prepared for unbelievers, but my words only increased his curiosity and anxiety to find it," and the thick-lipped headman grinned. "Then thou canst give me absolutely no information," I observed, disappointedly. "Hast thou, in the course of thy many journeys afar, learned nothing of its existence beyond what the wise men and story-tellers relate?" "Since I left Masaka I have, in truth, learned one thing," he answered, his capacious mouth still full of food. "What is it? Tell me," I cried. Ngalyema hesitated for a moment, then answered,-- "Three moons ago, during a raid upon one of the villages of the Wambutti pigmies, three days' march into the forest from Ipoto, one of the dwarfs of the woods who fell into our hands told me he knew the whereabouts of the rock, and that it was far away, many, many days' journey in the forest, and quite inaccessible." "In which direction?" "I know not," the headman answered. "The dwarf had been wounded by a gunshot, and pleaded for the release of his wife. I kept him while I settled a dispute which had arisen about some ivory we had discovered in the settlement, intending to question him further, but when I returned to where I had left him he was dead." "And his wife? Did she know anything?" "No; she had heard of the rock as the dwelling-place of some pagan spirit that they feared, but knew not where it was situated." "Then, whither dost thou advise me to search for information? Among the pigmies of the Wambutti?" "Yea. It is evident they are aware of its existence, though apparently they regard it as a sacred spot, and guard the secret of its existence jealously. The manner in which the dwarf appealed to me, declaring that he would disclose the secret if I released his wife, showed that he believed he was imparting to me information of the highest importance. What is hidden there I cannot tell; but it is strange that both the white man and thyself should desire to rest thine eyes upon it." "I have taken an oath to a woman to endeavour to discover it," I answered, simply. "I will accompany thee in thy return towards the country of the pigmies and continue my search among them." "If thou goest among them, may the One Merciful grant thee mercy," Ngalyema said. "He alone can guide the footsteps and reveal that which is hidden," I added. "Onward to Ipoto will I journey with thee, and strive to learn the secret of the forest-dwarfs. Of a verity will I follow the clue thou hast given unto me. Allah maketh abundant provision for such of his servants as he pleaseth. He knoweth whatever is in heaven and earth." CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. NGALYEMA. There is much truth in our Arab saying, that a day of pain appears everlasting if one does not dream of the bright to-morrow. A life's unrest, indeed, seems but a day's if one looks to the calm that Allah has promised shall be the reward of Believers. Beyond the pain and weariness is a white dawn, reunion and peace. Life with the fierce brigands of Tippu-Tib, the ivory king, was full of vicissitudes and horrors, as along the narrow native track, through the gloomy forest, we pushed forward. Owing to the large number of rapids, it was impossible for the raiders to use the native canoes to ascend the Aruwimi on their return to Ipoto, where they had temporarily established themselves; therefore, in order to secure more ivory and slaves, Ngalyema had decided to take a route which ran into the forest, six days' journey from the river, and which the guides assured us would follow the course of the Ituri and pass through a district where many settlements might be raided. Compelled to travel in single file, our journey through the dark, endless Forest of Perpetual Night was slow, tedious and hazardous. At almost every step we were retarded by stumps, roots, climbers, convolvuli and green-scummed pools, while, by the absence of light, we were chilled and depressed, and the poisonous odours arising from the decaying mass of vegetation sickened us. Here and there, where the interlaced foliage overhead allowed the sunshine to struggle through, flocks of parrots screamed and whistled gleefully, and the tall tree-trunks looked grey and ghostly in the pale light; but our progress, creeping among the dense undergrowth, and climbing over fallen patriarchs of the forest, was full of anxiety. Plantains grew everywhere, therefore there was no lack of food; but the brutality with which the raiders treated their slaves caused a number of deaths ere we had been a dozen days on the march. At length, one morning, the scouts, consisting of the two native guides, and about twenty Arabs, who were some distance ahead, rushed back with the news that they had come upon a large clearing, and that we were evidently approaching a village. The order to halt was immediately given, and Ngalyema himself, with a small force, went rapidly forward with the scouts to reconnoitre. In an hour they returned, stating that there were several villages in close proximity, and, with my gun ready, I accompanied the fighting-men in their dash forward. Passing across the clearing, where every plantain-stalk bore an enormous bunch of the fruit which filled the air with its odour, and where corn and sugar-canes were profusely cultivated, our pioneers suddenly came across a number of poisoned skewers, artfully concealed in the path, and these having been carefully picked out, we crept along, past a heap of bones of slaughtered game, to surround the settlement. It was exciting work. We knew not whether the alarm had already been raised and the natives were lying in ambush. Each moment we expected to be greeted with a flight of poisoned arrows from the concealed defenders; but as we got within sight of the huts it seemed that our approach had been unnoticed. Suddenly, however, the white garments of the raiders attracted attention, and in a few moments the village was in a tumult of apprehension. Without hesitation, our thick-lipped headman ordered the raiders to disperse into the jungle and surround the village, and as they dashed away and I took up a position behind a tree at a little distance from Tiamo, we could hear loud blasts being blown upon a horn. In an instant the raiders opened a galling fire. A number of my fellow-marksmen had clambered up the adjacent trees, others were concealed in the dense undergrowth, while a small body still remained in the rear, prepared to charge when commanded. A few seconds after the alarm had been raised, the black warriors, armed with bows, arrows, shields and long spears, poured out of the stockade, yelling and brandishing their weapons, but so well had the attack been planned, that each volley of the Arabs felled dozens of the blacks. Finding that we had got into ambush so cleverly, they retired immediately within their stockade, and from their cover launched flights of poisoned arrows in every direction. The missiles, the merest scratch from which would produce tetanus and death, swept through the foliage above us and stuck in the trunks of the trees in our vicinity, nevertheless wherever a black head or savage head-dress showed above the high stockade, it was picked off with unerring precision by our sharpshooters. The rattle of musketry, however, had alarmed the neighbouring villages, and almost before we were aware of it we were attacked in the rear by a crowd of yelling savages armed with clubs and bows. For a few minutes our position appeared exceedingly critical; but this contingency had not been overlooked, for suddenly I noticed a number of our men, who had been left to guard the slaves, were drawing off the defenders' reinforcement, and shooting them down with a cool recklessness that was surprising. For half-an-hour the fierce fusillade continued, until at length Ngalyema gave the signal to charge. To this the Arabs quickly responded, and in a few moments had stormed the stockade and were inside, swarming over the huts, and fighting the savages hand-to-hand. The _melee_ was exciting, but against guns savage weapons proved to be of little avail, and ere long a ruthless massacre of the unfortunate blacks became general. The very air was halituous of freshly-shed blood. As at Avisibba, the women and children were secured, the place looted, and every nook and corner searched, to discover the secreted tusks. None, however, could be found. Ngalyema had evidently good cause for belief that a considerable amount of ivory had been collected, and after his men had proceeded to the three other small villages in the immediate vicinity, thoroughly searched them, and captured the defenceless portion of the inhabitants, the chief of the Avejeli, whose life had been spared, was brought before him. His name was Yakul, a stalwart savage, of proud bearing, wearing a loin-cloth of goatskin and a conical shaped head-dress ornamented with a swaling crimson plume, while upon his arms, wrists and ankles were four bangles fashioned from _matako_, the brass rods imported by white traders on the Congo. Through one of the guides, who spoke the Momvu tongue, the headman of the raiders put a question, asking where his ivory was concealed. On hearing the inquiry, even before it was fully translated, he drew himself up, looked keenly into Ngalyema's face, and answered,-- "Thou hast killed and enslaved my people, and thou mayest kill me. Thou art the friends of Tippu-Tib, against whom our wise men have long warned us. Finish thy dastardly shedding of blood. Kill me, and go." "We have no desire to kill thee," the headman answered, with a smile. "Indeed, thou shalt regain thy liberty, and thy wives shall be returned unto thee if thou wilt disclose the hiding-place of thine ivory." "Thou hast destroyed my people. See now! Thou hast already applied the fire-brand unto my village!" he cried in fierce anger, shaking both his black fists. "Go. May the curse of the Evil Spirit who dwelleth in the darkness of the Great Forest, follow thee until death." "Pick out thy wives," the other said, pointing to the large group of trembling women and children. "They are free, and likewise thyself, but the men of Tippu-Tib depart not hither until thou hast led them unto the place where thou hast concealed thy treasure." The chief's fierce black eyes flashed with angry fire, as, waving his hand with a gesture of impatience, he replied,-- "Already have I answered." His four wives, however, watching the progress of the negotiations, and overhearing the offer of Ngalyema, dashed forward and flung themselves before their master, beseeching him to save his own life and theirs by disclosing the secret. But he waved them aside with regal gesture, and folded his arms resolutely. Then, one of the women rose, and turning to the Arab headman, said,-- "To save our lives I will reveal the spot unto thee. Come, it is but an arrow's flight distant!" The chief heard the words and sprang straight at her throat, but ere he could reach her the Arabs pulled him down. She stood erect and queenly, a splendid specimen of savage womanhood. "Follow me," she cried, wildly, and twenty of the raiders, myself included, sprang forward and accompanied her a little distance into the jungle until we came to a great ironwood-tree. For a moment she halted, with her back towards it, apparently taking bearings by a cottonwood-tree with silvery bark, and then, counting thirty paces in its direction, told us to search. In a few minutes the dead leaves and fallen boughs were cleared, revealing a floor of hewn wood, and this being torn up the coveted treasure, consisting of more than a hundred magnificent tusks, was discovered beneath. Shouting with glee, the raiders rushed back to their leader, announcing the news, and triumphantly dragging the chief's wife back with them. Her three female companions cried loudly to the headman to release them, but he only laughed brutally, and ordered the Arabs around him to put them back with the other slaves. Then, finding to their dismay that the headman's promise would not be fulfilled, the whole of the captured women made the forest ring with howls of execration, and heaped upon the raiders the most terrible curses their tongues could utter. Meanwhile, the ivory was being pulled out of its hiding-place, and allotted in burdens to the slave-carriers. The flames, now spreading from hut to hut, leaped, roared and crackled, and a thick black smoke ascended, drifting slowly over the tops of the giant trees. Turning to the proud chief of the Avejeli, the headman, through the negro interpreter, exclaimed,-- "I gave unto thee a chance to escape, but thou wouldst not accept it, even though the liberty of thy wives depended upon thy word." "The word of a follower of Tippu-Tib, like water fallen upon sand, is never to be found again," Yakul answered. Ngalyema bit his lip in anger, and waving his hand to those around him, exclaimed in Arabic,-- "Bind him. Let the son of offal die!" In a trice cords were slipped around the ankles, wrists and neck of the unfortunate wretch in such a manner as to render him utterly powerless. Then the Arabs asked,-- "Speak, O leader, in what manner shall the pagan's life be taken?" "Take him yonder into the forest, and find a nest of red ants at the foot of a tree. There bind him, smear upon him some plantain juice, and let the insects devour him." "Thou hast spoken well, O leader!" the brigands cried, exultingly, and before he could realise the horrible fate that awaited him, the unfortunate chief, whose only offence was the strenuous and gallant defence of his home and his people, was hurried away into the jungle by the joyful rabble. The shouting of the men executing the brutal Ngalyema's orders could be heard away in the forest, while the remainder of the bandits proceeded with their work of relentless destruction. Not content with levelling the villages to ashes, they cut down the plantain grove, trampled down the corn, and destroyed the manioc, afterwards refreshing themselves with draughts from a trough of banana wine found in the village. When the party returned from securing the chief in a position where he would be quickly eaten alive by the pests of the forest, the whole of the fighting-men reassembled, apparently beside themselves with delight at the complete mastery they had obtained over the savages. Piteous appeal availed the unfortunate slaves nothing. They were beaten, cuffed and tied together--two who attempted to escape, including the chief's wife who had divulged the whereabouts of the ivory, being shot dead, and their bodies kicked ruthlessly aside. At length the raiders, headed by one of the captured women, who was promised her liberty if she would act as their guide, moved forward along a narrow track leading into the depths of the forest, enriched by one hundred and thirty tusks, and nearly two hundred slaves. As the men marched, onward, goading on the slaves with revolting brutality, I lingered behind for a moment to pick up a curiously-shaped axe that had apparently been forgotten. As I did so a loud, despairing shriek fell upon my ear. I glanced around. The last of the rear guard of Tippu-Tib's brigands had disappeared along the dark track. I remembered that the register of the actions of the righteous is in Illiyyun, the book distinctly written: those who approach near unto Allah being witnesses thereto. Again the piercing shriek was repeated, and I knew that the unfortunate wretch, bound to a tree, was being tortured to death, and literally devoured by a myriad insects. The injustice of his sentence caused me to hesitate, and a second later I resolved to release him. I had but a few moments in which to accomplish it, for I well knew that, if discovered, my own life might be taken by the wild, bloodthirsty horde, who were indeed companions of the left hand, whom Allah had cut off, and over whom was the arched fire. Nevertheless, I dashed into the jungle, axe in hand, and guided by the condemned man's cries, found him lashed tightly to a tree, and already covered from head to foot by the pests. In an instant my axe severed his bonds and he sprang forward, and falling upon his knees, gratefully kissed my feet, uttering many words of thanks which I could not understand. But I had not a moment to linger, therefore I gave him "peace," and speeding back again to the smouldering ashes of the village, plunged into the forest depths down the dark, narrow path my merciless companions, the ivory-raiders, had taken. CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. PIGMIES OF THE FOREST. On every hand on their march eastward my companions spread destruction and death. The raiders' track was marked by blood and ashes, for almost daily they shot down natives, burned villages, and added to the number of their slaves. The horrors of that journey through the eternal gloom were endless, and the many cruelties and butcheries perpetrated in cold blood sufficient to send a thrill of horror through the most callous heart. Through all my varied experience with the hordes of the Mahdi and the Khalifa, I had never witnessed such scenes of fiendish brutality. Tiamo, whose savage nature had at first rejoiced in being one of this lawless band, was soon sickened, and often shuddered and expressed disgust. Yet through all I had one goal in view, one object to attain--the discovery of the mystic spot where the Secret of the Asps might be revealed. The dreams that waved before my half-shut eyes were ever of Azala. Ever uppermost in my mind was the thought of her imprisoned in that great palace, surrounded by every gorgeous luxury, yet not allowed to participate, and patiently awaiting my return. Each day, when darkness set in, I thought of her opening her lattice, praying for Allah's favour and breathing words of love to be borne afar to me upon the sunset wind. When should we again meet, I wondered. Perhaps never. But the story of my strange journey, stranger than man had ever before undertaken, slips away from me as I think of her. The notches on Tiamo's gun, which he fortunately recovered before leaving Avisibba, showed that the day arranged for the attack upon Kano by the Dervishes had long passed, for already we had been absent five moons. If Ayesha had not delivered my warning, or if the Sultan had disregarded it, then the Empire of Sokoto was doomed. Of what dire consequences would result from the non-delivery of my hastily-scrawled message I feared to contemplate, for I knew that if the Ansar entered Kano, the woman I loved would most certainly be seized and carried away to grace the harem of the brutal Ruler of the Soudan. But, trusting to the guidance of the One Guide, I strove to assure myself of her safety, and with a stout heart pushed forward, determined to overcome every obstacle that beset my path. Bitten and stung by numberless tribes of insects, including a beetle so small that it could not be detected with the naked eye, but which burrowed deeply into the flesh, producing most painful sores; continually on the alert against the many green, gold and black snakes, puff-adders, pythons and other deadly reptiles, we went forward, week by week, until the wretched slaves, half-starved and brutally ill-used, became mere shrunken skeletons of their former selves, disfigured by terrible ulcers caused by the insects, while the fighting-men themselves became lean, pale and weakened. Through a suffocating wilderness of arums, amoma and bush, over damp ground that exuded foetid, poisonous vapours, we struggled onward, until one day we were startled to hear on before us the sound of muskets, loud, wild shouting, and the violent beating of tam-tams. Ngalyema and his men halted quickly to listen. The sounds approached. "Thank Allah!" the headman cried in delight when, in a few moments, a strange, half-bred Arab pushed his way toward us, giving us loud and profuse greetings. "Our guides have not deceived us. We are at last at Kalunga!" Pushing forward, our scouts had apprised the raiders' settlement of our approach, and the wildest excitement at once prevailed. My companions, with one accord dashed onward, and on accompanying them I found myself in a great, open clearing around a strong stockade, within which stood a number of well-constructed huts. Here, once again, after a perpetual gloom lasting nine weeks, we saw the blessed light of day, the cloudless sky and the brilliant sun, and breathed the pure air laden with the sweet perfume of many flowers. We were, I discovered, actually in the country of the Wambutti pigmies, some of whom, sleek little people, about the height of a sword, and of the colour of yellow ivory, I saw among the Arabs. Kalunga was an out-lying station established by Tippu-Tib's brigands in order to extend their raids deeper into the Forest of Perpetual Night; and it was Ngalyema himself, who, a few hours later, suggested that from the curious race of forest-dwellers in the vicinity I might possibly obtain knowledge of the whereabouts of the Rock of the Great Sin. He even suggested that one or two of his own fighting-men should accompany me on my lonely journey south in search of the pigmies, but knowing that he desired to obtain for himself knowledge of the spot, I firmly declined his offer, declaring that I felt less open to attack accompanied only by Tiamo than if his slave-raiders bore me company. During two days I remained at the Arab settlement, watching the manner in which the slaves were secured previous to deportation to the headquarters at Ipoto, on the Ituri river, forty days distant; then, with my trusty companion, El-Sadic, I left the place at dead of night, in order to escape Ngalyema's vigilance, and again we plunged into the forest depths along the narrow, winding, half-effaced track which had been pointed out to me as running south to the distant villages of the mysterious race of dwarfs. In that impenetrable darkness our progress was slow, but when day dawned above, just sufficient light struggled through the dense foliage to enable us to pursue our way. It was a lonely journey, full of terrors and anxieties, for were we not approaching the tribe, of all the people in the Forest of Night the most hostile? Ever on the alert lest we should receive the poisoned shaft of some hidden dwarf of the woods, or tread upon a poisoned skewer, we struggled still onward. Day succeeded day until we kept no count of them. Tiamo, who had borne the fatigues of our long journey without a murmur, and bravely faced the perils to which we had continuously been exposed, now appeared to have grown despairing and gloomy. The eternal twilight was certainly not conducive to high spirits, but my dwarf companion seemed overwhelmed by some strange precursor of evil. As deeper into the forest we penetrated, food became scarcer, and hunger consumed us daily. We were subsisting on wood-beans, occasional plantains, bananas and some wild fruit, but as not a gleam of sunshine gladdened our eyes, or breath of pure air refreshed us, it was scarcely surprising that my slave should give vent to his innermost thoughts. One morning, in the dim, grey hour when things were just creeping out of darkness and everything was colourless and unreal, he appeared unusually gloomy, and when I inquired the cause, answered,-- "In the night, O master, I had a dream. The future was revealed unto me," and he shuddered perceptibly. "Verily, I believe that our quest is futile; that death is nigh unto us. I have a presentiment that the eyes of the beauteous Lalla Azala will never again be gladdened by sight of thee, and that mine own bones also will be stripped by the scavengers of the forest." "Let not such gloomy apprehensions find a dwelling-place within thee, Tiamo," I answered, forcing a smile. "Relinquish not thy brave bearing. For aught we know we are, even at this moment, on the point of a discovery." "The men of Tippu-Tib assured me that the dwarfs of the Wambutti resent the intrusion of strangers, and murder those who dare approach them except in force," he exclaimed, gloomily. "Did we not set forth to seek the Rock of the Great Sin, and didst thou not express thy readiness to accompany me whithersoever I went?" I asked. "I did, O master," he answered. "But I knew not that we should seek to penetrate the country of the man-eaters." "Allah,--may he be glorified!--counteth them as flies, but extendeth unto us his guidance and protection," I said. "Put thy faith in the One Guide, and he will comfort and preserve thee." Mumbling some mystic words in his own tongue, the meaning of which I knew not, he fumbled with his amulets and raised his open hand above his head, as if imploring the protection of his pagan gods. Then, rising to his feet, and with a look of renewed energy, he exclaimed,-- "Of a verity thy lips utter the truth. We may be even now near unto the shore of the Lake of the Accursed, and upon the verge of discovering that which is weirdly mysterious and unknown. I will abandon fear and continue to seek with diligence for that of which we are in quest." "We have both promised," I said, solemnly. "We have travelled afar, and are but fulfilling our duty towards the Lalla Azala, thy mistress." "True, O master," he said. "Pearls of wisdom fall ever from thy lips as rain upon a thirsty land. I am ready. Let us move forward." At the bidding of my ape-like companion I rose, and again we started along the disused track, rendered almost impassable by trailing creepers, vines, and thick undergrowth. During that day we struggled forward, passing through a village that had apparently been burned by the Arabs some months before, and, continuing our way still southward, we entered a path that had been so widened by elephants that we could walk side by side and converse, when suddenly, without warning, the earth beneath us gave way and we were both precipitated headlong into a deep pit that had been artfully concealed by leaves, twigs, and a thin layer of earth. My knee was bruised severely, but in a moment I struggled to my feet to gaze around. I raved to and fro, screaming and crying upon Allah and Eblis, for I was dismayed to discover that the pit had been dug so deeply, with sides slanting inwards, that to escape was utterly impossible. We had been caught by one of the elephant-traps, in the arrangement of which the pigmies display so much ingenuity and cunning. We had fallen into an abyss of doom. "Alas, O master! this misfortune hath shackled our footsteps!" the dwarf exclaimed, rubbing his abnormally large woolly head where he had struck it. "I dreamed that we were dying." No word passed my lips. In vain I searched frantically for some mode of escape, but could discover none. My companion's words, were, alas! too true! We had nothing left, but misery! The heart of night, and the forest's heart were tranquil in primordial silence. The mishap was worse than a misfortune, for it meant either capture by the malicious little denizens of that weird realm of perpetual darkness, or a lingering death from starvation. To endeavour to reach the surface, I mounted the dwarf upon my shoulders, but my heart sank when I saw that the point to which he could stretch his hands was still fully a spear's length below the ground. Had he been a full-grown man and not of dwarfed stature, it was possible that we might have escaped by this means, but all schemes that we devised proved impracticable, and we were compelled to walk backwards and forwards within the dark, deep hole, awaiting the arrival of our exulting captors, who would, no doubt, believe that in me, an Arab, they had caught one of their arch enemies--the raiders of Tippu-Tib. The gloom grew deeper, the birds far above ceased their chattering, a fact which told us that it was the hour of the _maghrib_, when, suddenly in the silence, we heard leaves rustling, and twigs broken as by footsteps. Next second, a black head appeared, cautiously leaning over the pit looking down upon us, and a voice uttered a loud cry in a language neither of us knew. My heart leaped, and beat quickly. The savage's face seemed to smile in mockery of my dismay; his scream of delight was the death knell of all my hopes, and, as the sinister head was withdrawn, I stood breathless, unarmed, wondering in what form death would come to us, and praying to Allah that we might die swiftly and painlessly, for I dreaded the horrible, revolting tortures I had so frequently witnessed. I remembered it was the hour when Azala, in the far-off city of the Sultan, was wafting to me, from her high lattice, a fervent message of comfort, of peace and of love. There came before me the pale image of those hours of enchantment. Upon the successful accomplishment of my strange mission depended all our future, all our happiness. I struggled to look the circumstances fairly in the face, to see the folly of my wild frenzy, and to reason with myself. But a profound sense of loneliness, helplessness and despair had settled upon me. I became seized by an excessive dread. CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. FACING MALEC. Above, in the dimness, there moved again a grotesque, spectral shadow. The savage was peering into the pit, but it occurred to me that he was unable to distinguish us in that rayless obscurity. He shouted in a hoarse voice, and I saw that in his hand he carried a long spear. Neither of us replied or moved a muscle. We watched in silence, waiting with drawn breath. Everything, except the hole above where the unkempt head showed as a round, black projection, was profoundly dark, and when I looked up again it had disappeared. A deep stillness fell, broken only by the distant trumpeting of an elephant; then suddenly we heard a noise like the breaking of sticks and the tearing of foliage. With our eyes riveted upon the hole through which we had fallen, we were, a few minutes later, startled by the appearance of a curious glare, as if a fire had been lighted, and suddenly the black denizen of the forest appeared at the hole, holding above his head a roughly-made torch. Its fickle light shone down upon us, but at the same time illumined the black, savage face of the man who held it. Involuntarily I gave vent to a loud ejaculation of surprise. In an instant I recognised the sable features. The man who had discovered us was none other than Yakul, the fearless chief of the Avejeli, whom I had rescued from death! "Peace, O friend!" I cried excitedly in Arabic, remembering that although he had been questioned by Ngalyema in the Monvu tongue, yet he nevertheless understood the language of the Desert. "See!" shouted the dwarf, in despair, unaware that I had released him from his tortures. "See! It is the chieftain that the raiders condemned to die. He will assuredly seek revenge upon us!" I saw him, and even through the mask of my madness I knew him again, and terror took hold of me. But our anxious apprehensions were in an instant dispelled, for Yakul, recognising me, waved his torch, shouting in very indifferent Arabic,-- "Nay, do not be surprised, O my rescuer! Truly am I thy friend. Be patient, and ere long thou shalt both escape." And as the weird, black figure uttered these reassuring words in a shrill tone, he placed the torch upon the ground and left. Reappearing in a few moments, he shouted, and commenced to lower a long wreath of climbing plant that he had cut from a tree, and when he had secured the end to a neighbouring trunk he bade us ascend with care. Thankful for this sudden and unexpected deliverance, Tiamo clambered up first, and I followed, finding myself a few minutes later standing beside my pagan ally, expressing fervent thanks for our timely rescue. "If thou hadst not severed my bonds, the scavengers of the forest would long ago have cleaned my bones," the tall, keen-eyed savage answered, leaning upon his spear. The fine goatskin he had worn as a mark of chieftainship had been replaced by a strip of common bark-cloth, and he no longer wore his curiously-shaped helmet, with its swaling plume. His village had been burned by the fiendish brigands of Tippu-Tib, nearly all his people had been murdered or enslaved, his treasure-stolen, and he was now a homeless wanderer. Briefly I explained to him the accident that had befallen us, at the same time expressing a fear that the pigmies might discover us. "Fear not that," he answered. "I have ever been an ally of the dwarfed people of the Wambutti, and in my company not a hair of thine head shall be injured." "Art thou on thy way to them?" I inquired. "Yea, and nay," he answered. "Since thou didst release me, I have followed closely thy footprints." "Followed me!" I echoed, remembering how many days he must have journeyed. "Since the raid of the destroyers I have been ever behind thee, and have ofttimes watched thee and thy companion unnoticed." "For what reason hast thou sought to thus keep observation upon me?" I asked, puzzled. The small fire he had lit still threw a faint glow, sufficient to reveal his dark and not unhandsome face, and Tiamo stood by, speechless and wondering. "I desired to ascertain that thou wert journeying along the right path," the chief replied, mysteriously. "The right path? What meanest thou?" "An Arab dareth not to journey with one slave through the Kivira, unless he hath some definite object in view," he said, with a low, rather harsh laugh. "At risk of thy life thou didst release me from a certain and horrible death, and in return I have secretly watched thy progress towards thy goal." "My goal!" I cried. "What knowest thou of my goal?" "Already have I told thee that, since my rescue, I have been as thy shadow. I followed thee to Kalunga, and there overheard thy conversation with the brutal headman Ngalyema, in which thou didst tell him of thy search, and he, with consummate craftiness, offered to send his armed men with thee. As I lay hidden, I heard thee tell him of thine anxiety to reach the Rock of the Great Sin, because upon the success of thy mission depended the happiness of the woman thou lovest. My life was in thine hand; therefore I determined at once to assist thee." "To assist me!" I exclaimed, breathlessly. "Knowest thou where the Rock of the Great Sin is situated?" "I do, O my friend," he answered solemnly, still leaning upon his spear, with the other hand resting upon his hip. "And canst thou direct us thither?" "In order to accompany thee unto the rock, I dogged thy footsteps, determined not to make my presence known if thou couldst obtain from others the information thou seekest. Until sunrise to-day thou didst travel in the direction of the abode of evil, but after last night's sleep thou didst turn off from the right track, and hence I found it imperative to make my presence known and give thee warning, so that thou mayest turn back and again strike the right path. In consequence, I sped forward, expecting to find thee settling down for the night, but instead I discovered thou hadst fallen headlong into a trap set for elephants. Thou hast been, however, extricated--" "Thanks to thee," I interrupted, laughing. But he continued,-- "Extricated by one whose life thou hast saved for no other reason than because the condemnation was unjust," and he paused. Then, looking round, he added, "Come, let us be seated at yon fire; let us eat and sleep that we may be refreshed for to-morrow's journey." All three of us walked to the fire, and seating ourselves, the pagan chief produced some ripe bananas and some wild fruit, which we ate ravenously while he chattered on unceasingly. "Have thine eyes ever gazed upon the Rock of the Great Sin?" I asked presently, when he had described how he had followed the men of Tippu-Tib for many days at imminent risk of detection. "Yes. Once, years ago, I gazed upon it from afar, but dared not to approach it." "Why?" I inquired. "Of a verity the spot is sacred. He who endeavoureth to ascertain its secret, will assuredly be smitten by a terrible pestilence--the hand of the Evil One who dwelleth therein, will strike swiftly, and the adventurous investigator will wither like a rootless flower beneath the sun." Tiamo, silent, with eyes opened wide, hugged his knees and drank in every word Yakul uttered. My curiosity was also thoroughly aroused, and I urged the chief to relate to me all he knew regarding the strange, unexplored spot. Its mystery had been deepened by each superstition or legend I had heard regarding it, yet it was curious that nearly every popular belief asserted that some strange deity of good or evil dwelt therein, or in its vicinity. But at length I had now discovered one who had actually gazed upon it with his own eyes, and knew the way thither. There was no longer doubt of its reality; it actually existed, rising lonely and solitary from the dark waters of the Lake of the Accursed, just as it had been mirrored in the heavens. For the first time during our long and fatiguing search, sometimes across great tracts of virgin forest wherein man had never before set foot, we now at last heard it described minutely from the lips of an eyewitness. Eager and elated, we both felt that we were on the point of a discovery, and were prepared to risk the strange pestilence so dreaded by the pagans and the touch of the unseen evil hand, in order to explore the dark and gloomy crag, where it had been asserted by Azala the Mystery of the Asps remained hidden. Yakul, as he munched his bananas, told us how, eight years before, when assisting the Iyuku and Indebeya peoples against the Manuyema, there had been severe fighting, and with his warriors he had followed a host of the invaders south through an unknown part of the Great Forest, until at length he had driven the enemy into a natural trap, for, on account of the Lake of the Accursed and the range of inaccessible mountains beyond, they were unable to retreat further, and being compelled to again fight, they were completely wiped out by the Avejeli. During the battle in that little-known region he discovered they were within actual sight of the Rock of the Great Sin, but of the whole of his brave warriors not a man dared to venture nearer on account of the declarations of their wise men, that if any attempted to approach the forbidden spot a terrible pestilence and total destruction would inevitably fall upon the tribe. In consequence of this he had stood afar off and viewed the rock and the unknown and unapproachable land beyond, fearing lest, by going nearer, he should invoke the wrath of his pagan gods, or cause revolt among his warriors, who had become cowed and terrified at discovering themselves in the shadow of the dark rock, which was the seat of the dreaded Evil Spirit of the Kivira. While within sight of the Rock of the Great Sin, they declared the air was deadly. They began to suffer from joint aches, he told us; their knees were stiff, and pains travelled through their bodies, causing them to shiver and their teeth to chatter, after which their heads would burn and the hot sweat would pour from them, so that they knew no rest. During the two days they remained there life was but one continuous ague, and they left the country declaring it to be bewitched. CHAPTER THIRTY. A PROPHECY. "Fearest thou to return?" I asked the chief of the Avejeli, when he had concluded his interesting description of the overthrow of the Manuyema. "If thou desirest me to bear thee company, I will guide thee until thine eyes can discern the black rock, and the poisonous waters surrounding it," he answered. "Then, if thou art fully determined to approach it, I will remain until thou returnest." "I cannot sufficiently thank thee for thy promise, O friend," I answered. "For many moons have I wandered with my slave, over the desert and through the endless and terrible Kivira, in search of some one who could direct me unto the spot I seek. Now that thou hast given me thy promise to conduct me thither, thou hast of a verity revived my hopes with the refreshing shower of thy good favour." "Are we not friends?" Yakul asked. "Already thou hast shown, in manner plain, a boundless generosity towards me; therefore gladly will I conduct thee to the sacred place thou seekest." "Indeed thou art my friend. May the most perfect peace ever rest upon thee, and may wisdom always distinguish thee above thy fellows," I answered, adding, "Thou hast spoken of the rock as the seat of the Evil Spirit of the Forest. Tell me, why do thy people of the Avejeli regard it as sacred?" "Because, beyond the rock is an inaccessible and mysterious tableland which none have ever gained. Some believe it to be a country filled to overflowing with bananas, yams, manioc, corn, honey and fruit, and peopled by a strange race of monkeys, who live in huts like ourselves, and are armed with bows and spears. Others declare that the plateau, though covered with grass at the edge, where visible, is nevertheless a glaring, barren, and uninhabited wilderness of endless extent." "And what is the name of this unknown country?" I asked, curious to know whether the pagan tribes entertained a belief similar to ours. "It is called the Land of the Myriad Mysteries, because, to the dwellers on the edge of the forest, the first flush of dawn appeareth always like a mysterious blood-red streak from behind the rock. By our wise men it is said that away there dwelleth the great Evil Spirit, whose invisible myrmidons lurk in the silent depths of the forest, ever ready to bring destruction and death upon those they may seize." "Believest thou that the Evil Spirit hath power supreme?" I inquired. "Yea, most assuredly. Once, many years ago, the Good Spirit, who dwelleth in the sun, reigned supreme in the Kivira, until a rivalry arose between the god of Life, and the god of Destruction, and they struggled fiercely for the mastery. At first, the Good Spirit was the most powerful, for into the bright light which he shed the Evil One dared not venture. But at length the god of Darkness, with considerable ingenuity, invoked the aid of the trees of the forest, and they, obedient to him always, raised high their spreading heads, interlaced their giant branches, and shut out the sun's light, thus allowing their master, the Evil Spirit, to obtain complete control of the earth. It was then that he took up his abode in the Land of the Myriad Mysteries, placing between his seat and the dwelling-place of mortals a lake, the water of which will, it is said, poison arrows dipped into it, and a chain of mountains, unapproachable by reason of the death-dealing odours exhaled from the swamp in the deep valley at their base." The chief paused, hugged his knees, and gazed gravely into the dying embers. "Hath no man ever been able to penetrate into the mysterious abode?" I asked. "Many lives have, it is said, been lost in foolhardy attempts by the curious," he answered, slowly. "None has, however, successfully braved the wrath of the One of Evil, who dealeth death with aim unerring. Our wise men have said that when, generations ago, the Evil Spirit conquered his rival, entrance was gained to his kingdom by a remarkable cave in the rock, and that in the cave there lived a hideous wild beast with eight legs, whose tusks were each the length of a spear, whose claws were each an arrow's length, whose eyes were like flaming brands, and whose breath was as the smoke of a camp fire. The god's attendant spirits were forbidden to pass beyond the zealously-guarded portal, but one day a spirit, more adventurous than the rest, managed to escape into the abode of men. His spiritual form enabled him to cross the poisoned waters without a canoe, but as he was passing rapidly over the plain his absence was detected by the god of Darkness, who, in his wrath, suddenly turned him into a human being, and doomed him to wander the earth as an outcast forever. He is wandering now, for aught we know. Truly, the wrath of the King of the Land of the Myriad Mysteries is to be feared, and death cometh swiftly to those who offer him not offerings of flesh, and arouse his anger by expressing disbelief that he ruleth the earth." "Then, according to thy belief, the Good Spirit is powerless?" I said. "Yea, he hath, alas! been vanquished, and the god of Darkness holdeth supreme sway over men," he answered. "Among mine own people I have witnessed more than one case where a man expressed disbelief in the One of Evil at dawn, and ere darkness hath fallen he has come to a violent and unexpected end. The punishment of the sceptical is always death." "And the dwelling-place of the Ruler of the World is that high land, towards which, at sunrise, we shall be pushing forward to discover?" I said. "Yea. But have a care of thy life, O friend," he urged, in a tone of consternation. "Thou mayest gaze upon it from afar, but to approach it will be to encompass thine own end." "When we reach within sight of it I shall decide how to act," I laughed, amused at the pagan's apprehensions. "Strangely enough we have, in our land, a legend very similar to thine, which telleth how one adventurous man escaped from the mysterious region, after which the cave became closed and all entrance and egress barred. The mystery fascinateth me, and I am determined at all hazards to seek its solution." "Dost thou think thou wilt succeed where valiant men for ages past have failed?" he asked, in a tone of reproach. "I may fail also," I said. "If thou wilt lead me thither, I will make at least an effort." The black chief did not reply, but sat silent and motionless, still hugging his knees, and gazing with thoughtful, heavy expression into the fire. Perhaps he was trying to devise some scheme whereby I might be deterred from committing an act which he considered sheer folly. But I was determined to keep the promise I had made to Azala, and seek some explanation of the mystic marks upon our breasts. It was strange that every tribe--followers of the Prophet and pagans alike--possessed some curious legend regarding the unapproachable country; strange, also, that so many of the quaint beliefs coincided in two facts; namely, the escape of an adventurous spirit and the subsequent disappearance of the cavern. These legends had apparently been handed down through so many ages that they had now become bound up in the quaint and simple religious belief of the pagans, proving the great antiquity of the original incident or story upon which they were founded. That some extraordinary mystery was therein hidden, I felt instinctively, and longed for the days to pass in order to stand before the gigantic rock and examine it closely. Tiamo, much impressed by what Yakul had said, was likewise eager to view the spot; but the chief's declaration that it was the dwelling-place of the Evil Spirit caused him considerable perturbation, for, as a pagan himself, he believed implicitly in the existence of Jinns, and in the One of Evil, which he constantly declared lurked in the most gloomy depths of the Forest of Perpetual Night. Once or twice on our lonely journey he had been terrified at seeing in the darkness some mysterious object moving, but it generally turned out to be a monkey, a leopard, or some other animal startled by our sudden invasion of his domain. At such times I laughed at his dread of darkness, but I confess that more than once in that weird and terrible wilderness of trees I, myself, had become infected by his abject fear, and stood in readiness to witness some uncanny being advance towards us. Now, however, my little apelike companion expressed a profound belief that the seat of the Evil Spirit was actually beyond the Rock of the Great Sin, and that the story, as related by Yakul, was the most sensible solution of the mystery he had yet heard. I could not reprimand him, because I did not wish to cast doubt upon the belief of the grateful savage who had proved our sincere friend. Therefore I held my peace, declaring that I would express no opinion before I saw the spot. Yakul laughed when I thus made reply to my slave, and turning to him, said,-- "Thy master acteth with discretion. Ofttimes, we trip in the hurry of the tongue. They are wise who speak not before examining a matter themselves." "For many moons have we journeyed in search of the Rock of the Great Sin," the dwarf answered, "and, even though I may fear him who dwelleth therein, yet I, like my master, will not be deterred from approaching it closely." "Then, thy life will pay the penalty of thy rashness," the chief observed, slowly nodding his head to emphasise his words. "The result of any folly will be upon us alone," Tiamo said, in a resentful tone. "Lead us thither, and leave us to our own devices." "Such is my intention," answered the chief of the Avejeli. "If thou hadst searched through the Forest of Perpetual Night, thou wouldst not have obtained a guide, even though thou hadst offered him a sack of cowries, or an ass's load of brass rods." "Why?" I inquired. "Because the secret of the existence of the seat of the Evil Spirit in our midst is carefully guarded by the forest tribes, and to lead a stranger thither is an offence punishable by death. Our prophets have for centuries urged upon us the necessity for keeping the whereabouts of the rock secret, declaring that some day a stranger will come from the north, and seek to penetrate the mystery. If the stranger is successful, then the vengeance of the Evil One will descend upon all forest-dwellers in whose keeping the secret remaineth, and sweep them out of existence by means of a terrible scourge of leprosy. Therefore, the tribe of pigmies holding the country near the rock are deadly hostile towards those who approach them, and none, save the Manuyema, have ever been permitted to go near, and even they were all quickly massacred by us, not one being spared to spread the news among his compatriots." "Then, in acting as our guide, thou art running a risk of death?" I exclaimed, in surprise. The chief nodded assent, adding: "It is the only means by which I can repay thee for giving me my life." "If our efforts are satisfactory, thou wilt assuredly receive ample reward," I said. "I want none," he replied. "But bring not upon our people the doom that hath so long been prophesied," he added, with earnest fervency. "I may be the stranger whose coming hath been foretold," I observed, laughing. El-Sadic, the dwarf, grinned from ear to ear, and rubbed his thighs, while Yakul moved uneasily, and, taking up a stick, slowly stirred the fire. "I trust not," he said, in a harsh tone. "It would be better that I had died where the murderers of Tippu-Tib bound me, than I should be instrumental in leading the destroyer of our race unto victory." "Destroyer of thy race!" I echoed. "I have no desire to destroy either the pigmies of the forest, or the stalwart dwellers of the river banks. My campaign is not one of conquest, but of curiosity. In searching for the rock I am but redeeming a pledge to the woman I love. Therefore, have no fear as to my intentions;" and laughing again, I added, "Whatever may occur, thou wilt assuredly be remembered." "But the prophecy, it is--" "Heed it not, be it what it may," I urged, interrupting him. "Be thou our guide, and give us thy protection through the country of the pigmies. Assuredly wilt thou be fitly rewarded." "I take no reward from one to whom I owe so much," he answered, proudly. For a few moments he hesitated, then added: "I have promised to direct thy footsteps unto the mysterious region of the Evil One, and will do so, notwithstanding the prophecy. The pledge of Yakul is never broken. Therefore, trust in me, and within twelve days thine eyes shall be gladdened by the sight of the gloomy rock for which thou hast so long searched." I thanked him, assuring him that by such an action he would repay my small service a thousandfold, and he accepted my expressions of pleasure with that calm dignity which had held him exalted above all others of his tribe. "Then let us rest," he said. "To-morrow we must retrace our steps one march, and then strike in the direction of the sunrise. Yakul shall lead thee, but if thine adventurous expedition shouldst cost thee thy life, let it not be upon my head, for already have I given thee full warning of the dangers that must beset thee." "Thou art exonerated from every blame, O my friend," I answered. "Of our own free desire we go forward unto the Land of the Myriad Mysteries, and we are ready that the consequences rest with us." "Well hast thou spoken, O master," my slave exclaimed. "Wheresoever thou seekest for truth, there also will I bear thee company." "Then let us refresh ourselves by sleep, and let us proceed at sunrise," said the chief of the Avejeli; and soon afterwards, having made couches of leaves, we stretched ourselves around the embers of our fire, the flickering of which cast weird, grotesque shadows upon the boles of the giants of the forest. How long I slept I have no knowledge, but the crackling of wood awakened me. Opening my eyes quickly, without moving, I saw the flames had sunk and sleep had stolen over my two companions. Tiamo lay on his side, his hand on his _jambiyah_ at his waist, while Yakul snored and rolled as if he did not like the ground to lie upon. The single ember that blazed threw its light upon some dark bushes within my line of sight. Suddenly I thought I detected a small object moving in the deep shadow, and strained my eyes into the gloom. Yes! I was not deceived! Another dark form moved, then another and another, and as one crept out on tiptoe from the thick undergrowth, I saw it was a tiny, half-naked dwarf, wearing a curious square head-dress, advancing noiselessly, a small poisoned arrow held in his bow ready to fly at the first sign of our awakening. The one creeping towards us did so with evil intent, for there was a keen, murderous look in his tiny, beadlike eyes. During the first few moments of this discovery I remained spellbound, allowing our adversaries to creep forward until within two spears' length of us. Then I sent up a loud shout of alarm that rang through the great forest and came back again with strange, almost sepulchral echo. CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. ON THE HORIZON. Instantly the tiny people of the Wambutti, none of whom reached higher than my waist, scampered back into the undergrowth, startled by my unearthly yells, but at the same moment Yakul jumped to his feet in alarm, an arrow in his bow. "Why hast thou given warning?" he cried, glancing at me. "What hideous shape hath frightened thee?" "See! in yonder bushes, the pigmies are lurking," I gasped in alarm, pointing to the spot where they had concealed themselves. "How didst thou detect their presence?" he inquired. "I watched them." Turning towards the thick bushes, the savage chieftain shouted some words in a tongue unknown to me, and next second the impish little denizens of the forest depths sprang from their hiding-places, and recognising their friend, came crowding around, dancing and greeting us effusively. Briefly Yakul explained our position. His eyes were fire; his passion for his slaughtered and enslaved race, and his passion for revenge, were as the lode-star of his life. After consultation, the hunters of the Wambutti relit our fire by rubbing two sticks together, and squatted around it, laughing and chattering in their strange language until the grey light, glimmering through the tall trees, told us that dawn had come. Times innumerable had the Avejeli assisted the dwarfs against the raiding dwellers on the grasslands and on the river banks. The yellow-complexioned pigmies, dwelling as they do deep in the impenetrable depths of the boundless Forest of Perpetual Night, are formidable enemies, for they conceal themselves so cleverly that their arrows and spears pierce the intruder before he is aware of their presence. As hunters, these little-known men stand first among the pagan tribes of Central Africa, and in return for food and bark-cloth supply the neighbouring tribes with quantities of ivory, and the deadliest of arrow poisons. Their complexions are much lighter than the dwellers by the river or on the plains, and their villages are mere collections of tiny huts that appear like little straw-covered mounds placed in the centre of a forest clearing. At first our weird little friends seemed inclined to regard me with considerable distrust, but on Yakul's assurance that I was no ally of Tippu-Tib's, their distrust gave place to curiosity as to my purpose in travelling through the forest. Yakul reminded them of the promise of assistance they had many times given him, and told them of my mission; whereupon, after consultation with their headman, they consented--not, however, without some reluctance--to guide us towards the Land of the Myriad Mysteries; and after re-arranging their elephant-trap into which we had fallen, our fire was extinguished and we struck camp, turning our faces in a north-easterly direction. Through a great, gloomy tract of primeval forest, where the foliage was so dense that scarcely a ray of light could struggle through to illuminate our weary footsteps, we passed over marshy ground, where poisonous vapours hung undisturbed by the faintest breath of air, and where neither animals nor birds could live; on over the decaying vegetation of centuries; on, day after day, now scrambling over fallen giants of the forest, and ever and anon sinking knee-deep in quagmires of foetid slime. Often we struck an elephant track which assisted us, but were always compelled to leave it very soon in order to continue our course. Thus through many dreary hours we pressed forward in the dull, dispiriting gloom. Confident in the knowledge that each bivouac brought us nearer the spot for which I searched, I heeded neither fatigue nor peril, and judge my satisfaction, joy and eagerness, when at last we suddenly emerged from the forest gloom into the blessed light of day. Halting, I inhaled the first invigorating breath of pure air I had breathed for many weeks. The dwarfs raising their hands above their heads, gave vent to some cabalistic utterances; then, trembling with fear, stood, not daring to proceed further into the country forbidden. Yakul called us to witness that our friends had guided us in the right path, and Tiamo, turning to me, cried excitedly in Arabic,-- "Of a verity, O master, soon will our eyes be delighted at the sight of the great rock. The chief Yakul is assuredly as sincere a friend as if he had made blood brotherhood with thee." Facing towards the holy Ka'aba, I thanked Allah for his deliverance, and recited the Testification with some verses from the book of Everlasting Will. Under a brilliant noonday sun the open country spread wide before us, a beautiful plain, covered with grass of freshest green, and stretching away into the far-off horizon, where a range of mountains rose blue, misty and indistinct. "Behold!" shouted Yakul, pointing with his spear to the distant serrated line a moment later. "Behold, yonder peak that standeth higher than the rest, and is shaped like the prow of a canoe, is the spot which thou seekest. Lo! it is the Rock of the Great Sin!" My eyes, strained in the direction indicated, could just distinguish the point where one mountain rose higher than its neighbours, its summit apparently obscured by the vapours that hung about it. "Art thou certain that yonder crest is actually the rock we seek?" I asked, shading my eyes with my hands, and eagerly gazing away to the blue haze that enshrouded a mystery upon the elucidation of which my whole future depended. "Of a verity the grassland beneath thy feet is the same field whereon my people gained the signal victory over their enemies. Behold! their whitening bones remain as relics of that fight; and yonder, afar, lieth the forbidden Land of the Myriad Mysteries." "Let us hasten thither, O master," urged Tiamo, who had been standing agape in amazement, eagerly drinking in every word uttered by the sable chieftain. "In short space shall we reach the shore of the wondrous Lake of the Accursed," Yakul exclaimed. "By to-morrow's noon our faces shall be mirrored in its waters." "Let us speed on the wings of haste," I said; and then, remembering Yakul's confidence in the non-success of my strange mission, I added, "Each hour is of serious moment. Already have I tarried too great a space on my way hither, and must return more quickly than I came. How I shall journey back to Kano I know not." "Thou needest not retrace thy footsteps along the route thou hast traversed," answered the chief. "Due north of yonder rock there runneth a track which leadeth through the Great Forest to Ipoto. Thence, crossing the Ihourou river, the way leadeth on through the desolate country of the Mbelia unto the mountain called Nai, whence thou canst journey in six marches to Niam-Niam, and onward unto thine own desert land." Our friends, the dwarfs, had grouped themselves under the shadow of the trees on the edge of the forest, conversing seriously. None summoned sufficient courage to wander forth upon the verdant land, where flowers grew in wild abundance, and where herds of buffalo grazed undisturbed. This strange land, unknown to all except themselves, they held in utmost awe. They dared not approach it more closely, lest the dreaded pestilence that had been prophesied should fall and sweep them from the face of the earth. Yakul approached their headman, urging him to accompany us and explore the mysterious rock, but the tiny man only shook his head, and drawing himself up, answered,-- "Verily, we are thy friends, O friend, but seek not to cause us to invoke the wrath of the Destroyer, lest the pestilence should fall upon us. He who resteth his eyes on yonder rock will assuredly be smitten, and his entrails withered by the breath of the Evil Spirit of the Forest that scorcheth like the flame of a burning brand. To pass over yonder grassland is forbidden." "We go forward in search of the Land of the Myriad Mysteries," the chief of the Avejeli explained. "Then assuredly thou goest unto certain death," the dwarfs replied, almost with one accord, shaking their heads and shrugging their narrow shoulders. "Be warned," their headman added. "The Destroyer is mighty; he ruleth the Great Forest and its people. Assuredly he is swift to punish!" "He who will bear us company unto the Lake of the Accursed, let him stand forth, or if he dare not venture, then let him hold his peace," said Yakul, standing erect, spear in hand. But not a dwarf advanced. All feared to pass across the fertile plain, and investigate the mysterious country beyond. Then, after much parleying and many solemnly-uttered warnings on the part of the pigmies, my two companions and myself left them, setting our faces resolutely towards the sacred lake, the approach to which was prohibited to all. The grass was soft beneath our feet after the difficult march through the untrodden forest; the sight of flowers, of animals and of birds refreshed our eyes after the eternal silence and appalling gloom in which we had existed through so many weary days; and as the sun sank in a sea of crimson behind us, and our shadows lengthened across the grass, I halted for a few moments to repeat the sunset prayer, remembering that there was one afar off who had opened her lattice and breathed upon the hot, stifling desert wind a fervent message of love. Within sight of the entrance to the mysterious Land of the No Return I wondered, as I strode forward, what the result of my mission would be; whether, by good fortune, I should be enabled to reach the Rock of the Great Sin in safety; whether the explanation of the mysterious Mark of the Asps upon my breast would ever be revealed; whether the true-hearted woman I loved so dearly still stood in peril of the vile intrigues around her; whether the Khalifa's plot had been frustrated, and whether, by Allah's grace, my feet would ever again tread the well-remembered courts of the luxurious Fada at Kano. The traditions of the sons of Al-Islam and those of the pagans were alike so ominous that, as the dark mountains gradually became misty and indistinct when the night clouds enveloped them, I became filled with gloomy apprehensions, fearing failure, and the fulfilment of the strange, terrifying prophecies of the dwarfs. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. THE GREAT SIN. Hastily we sped forward early next morning, our eyes eagerly riveted upon our goal. The saffron streak of dawn showed behind the great, gloomy range of blue and grey, and as the fleecy clouds lifted, we saw that the higher peaks beyond were tipped with snow. The lofty crests were tinted with an unusual blood-red light. Truly the country beyond had been justly named by the pagans the Land of the Myriad Mysteries. Soon we ascended a knoll, and at its summit were enabled to distinguish, straight in front of us, a pool of dark water which, at that distance, seemed only a leopard's leap in width, lying immediately beneath the Rock of the Great Sin. "Behold!" cried Tiamo, who had sped forward a few paces and gazed around. "See! O master! Yonder must be the Lake of the Accursed, the poisonous waters that all men fear!" Even as I gazed, the sun shone forth from behind the mountains which Yakul called the Jebel el-Mantar (Mountains of the Look-out), and the shadow cast by the dark, towering rock fell across the black, silent pool. We quickened our pace, each of us breathlessly eager to investigate the mysterious spot. A great golden eagle came from his nest on the summit of the rock, soaring high above us, while a crowd of grey vultures hovered around with a persistency which seemed precursory of death. "Alas! The birds of evil follow us," exclaimed Yakul, observing them; but neither Tiamo nor myself answered, for we were both too full of our own thoughts, fearing lest our mission should prove abortive. My slave fingered his amulets, uttering many strange exhortations, while my companion, the chief of the Avejeli, raised his long, sinewy arms towards the rock and cried aloud to the Evil Spirit, humbly acknowledging that he had broken the commandment, and earnestly craving forgiveness. Nevertheless, we still hurried forward, and, half-an-hour before the sun reached the noon, were standing at the shore of the black pool, upon the unruffled surface of which the high, inaccessible face of the rock descending sheer into the water was faithfully reflected, with every detail of colour and form. The scene was exactly similar in every particular to that which, from the lattice in the palace of Kano, I had seen reflected upon the sky. The mirage, though inverted, had been an exact reproduction of the wild, gloomy landscape. With wondering eyes I gazed around, seeking to discover some clue to the mystery, but was at a loss how to commence. The width of the Lake of the Accursed, from the spot where we stood to the base of the rock, was about a gunshot, and it extended on either side along the bases of the mountains as far as the eye could reach. The Rock of the Great Sin rose, a wall of dark grey stone devoid of any vestige of herbage, towering rough and rugged to enormous height, and overhanging in such a manner that it could not be scaled. Like the giant mountains and rocky pinnacles around and beyond, it was utterly inaccessible. Even if the water had not formed a natural barrier no man could ascend its precipitous face or climb its rugged, overhanging crags; while all around a chain of impassable rocks and mountains reared their mighty crests between us and the mysterious Land of the No Return. Suddenly I felt in my throat a strange sensation as of asphyxiation. Violent fits of coughing seized both my companions, while my own throat seemed to contract strangely, until I could only breathe in short, painful gasps. Just at that moment my eyes fell upon the long, narrow pool, and I saw, wafted slowly along its glassy surface, a thin blue vapour. Bending, I placed my hand in the water; it was just tepid, and strongly impregnated with sulphur. Then I noticed that, within an arrow's flight of the shore, not even a blade of grass grew. The Lake of the Accursed was evidently fed by a large number of hot springs, and the strong sulphurous fumes given off exterminated life in every form. The assertions of the pigmies were correct. Those who approached the waters were in imminent peril of death. Finding ourselves in this critical position, we all three sped away to the zone where the grass grew abundantly, and there found that we could again breathe freely. Without approaching nearer to the Lake of the Accursed, we proceeded to investigate the rocks to right and left. Apparently these high, grey crags flanked the bases of the giant, snow-capped mountains that beyond, in the unknown Land of the No Return, reared their heads to the cloudless heavens; but though we searched throughout the long and brilliant day, we were unable to discover any means of approach to the unknown and unexplored plateau that lay behind. As far as we travelled east or west the poisonous waters and soft, slimy swamps formed a natural gulf that precluded any attempt to scale the dizzy heights forming the outer, impregnable limits to the strange, rock-girt realm. Times without number I stood gazing up at the dark mysterious rock, the spot held in awe alike by pagans of the Forest of Perpetual Night and true Believers. It had remained for me to discover that which for generations my kinsmen had sought and failed. So far, indeed, Allah had allowed me to be successful, but the promised elucidation of the mystery seemed as far off as ever, and as evening fell and the gigantic mountains, magnificent in their wild ruggedness, became crimsoned by the fiery afterglow, I began to realise the utter impossibility of obtaining from that grey, frowning wall any explanation of the Mark of the Asps, or of gaining the Land of the No Return, whereon the foot of man had never fallen. When the plain was flooded with roseate radiance, we held earnest consultation together, and agreed that to remain nearer the lake for any length of time would prove fatal. Even Tiamo, who had been so sanguine of success, now expressed a fear that, with the exception of discovering the rock, our journey could have no further result. Yakul endorsed the dwarf's opinion, as, sitting upon his haunches, hugging his knees, he repeated a prayer to the Evil Spirit whose vengeance he feared. Night came soon, and the mountains were silver with moonlight. The waters of the lake glittered in the white beams; the silver moon queened heaven amid her court of silver stars. What was there beyond that impassable barrier? A world all purity, all peace; a blanched world, bleached of blood and shame; a world of mystery, so fair it seemed to wait for some ethereal being, tall and radiant, winged with light, to path its unknown valleys. Sleep came not to my eyes. By some strange intuition I felt that at that spot some weird mystery remained hidden, and having travelled thus far, and actually discovered the Rock of the Great Sin, the spot that had remained a mystery through ages, I was determined that nothing should deter me from exploring further. Yakul and the dwarf were eating their morning meal as I strolled alone at the edge of the zone, beyond reach of the poisonous, insidious vapours. Once again I gazed up at the weird, precipitous crag in abject wonderment. With its towering summit standing out boldly against the vault of cloudless blue, and its delicate tints of brown and grey faithfully reflected upon the still waters, it rose, a barrier between the Known and the Unknown--mysterious, marvellous, magnificent. With arms folded and chin upon my breast, I surveyed its inaccessible base, seeking for the hundredth time to discover some means of gaining the land beyond, when suddenly my eyes were attracted by a portion of the rock close to where the waveless waters lapped its enormous base. In its aspect there was nothing very remarkable, yet my eyes, on the alert for the slightest clue, detected that for a short distance the black strata of the rock ran at an entirely different angle to the remainder, as if at some time or other the base had been disturbed by some violent upheaval. Covering my mouth with my hand to exclude the suffocating vapours, I rushed down to the edge of the lake, straining my gaze in its direction. At about a spear's length above the surface, this strange inequality extended, but apparently the rock above had remained undisturbed by the volcanic action. The legend alleging that the savage serpent, which ages ago guarded the entrance to the Land of the No Return, had smote the rock in his wrath, and that its rocky portals had instantly closed, recurred to me. Could that spot have been the actual entrance to the Unknown Land? Might not the zealously-guarded gate have closed and sunk beneath the surface of the unfathomable waters? I held my breath, feeling myself on the verge of a discovery. Yet to investigate seemed impossible, for we had no wood from which to construct a raft, and the very air was poisoned by noxious vapours that wafted in serpentine gusts across the surface with the faintest zephyr. Yakul shouted, but I heeded him not. I was gazing fixedly at the Rock of the Great Sin, striving to devise some means by which to reach and examine the disturbed portion of its base. It occurred to me that, by diving into the water, I could perhaps swim across and return without becoming asphyxiated, therefore I walked back to where my two companions were squatting, and amazed them by announcing my intention to cross the Lake of the Accursed. "But are not its waters fatal? Thou wilt, of a verity, be poisoned!" cried Tiamo, springing to his feet and clutching my arm in alarm. "Unto the Lalla Azala I gave my pledge that I would strive to elucidate this mystery," I answered, calmly. "I shall plunge in yonder, and strike towards the rock. If I fail, return quickly unto her and tell her in what manner I died. Tell her that for many moons have I journeyed until at last I discovered the Rock of the Great Sin, and that, in seeking what was hidden, I was brought unto Certainty. But, by the grace of the One Merciful, who hath guided me by the sun of his favour, I hope to find strength sufficient to make my investigation, and return hither in safety. In case I should not," I added, removing one of my amulets from the little string of talismans, sewn carefully in soft leather, that I had worn always next my skin ever since I could remember, and handing it to him, "in case I should fail, take this to the Lalla Azala, and tell her that my last thoughts were of her." "Truly I will, O master," answered the dwarf, grasping the small golden circle, and feeling it with nervous, trembling fingers. "Is it not folly, O friend, to trust thyself in yon sacred lake? There is death in its breath," Yakul urged, regarding me with a strange look of pitying suspicion, as if fearing that I had taken leave of my senses. To him the very suggestion seemed preposterous. He had feared to approach the waters, and my resolution to desecrate them by plunging in filled him with awe. "It cannot be avoided," I answered. "I seek that which I desire to find, and am determined to make the attempt if Allah--whose name be exalted!--willeth it." "And if thou failest?" he asked. "Allah alone knoweth the hearts of men. He leadeth me, and I am not afraid," I answered. "Alas! I fear thou wilt find naught," the savage chieftain exclaimed. "Yon mystery is hidden from man, and vengeance falleth upon him who seeketh to tear aside the veil." "I know," I said. "A hundred times hath the same words been spoken unto me. Each man to whom I mentioned the object of my journey prophesied failure, yet their prognostications have, up to the present, proved untrue. I stand here, before the rock which followers of the Prophet have sought for ages, but could not find, and I tell thee I am resolved to investigate further." "Have a care of thy life, O master," cried my slave. "Think, the Lalla Azala, who loveth thee, could live no longer if thou wert dead." "It is to aid her, El-Sadic, to fulfil my pledge, to gain that which she hath said will bring us together never to part, that I essay this attempt. I go. If I fail, act as I have spoken. May Allah accord thee his favours." Convinced of the fruitlessness of any effort to deter me from diving into the poisonous pool, the pagan dwarf bowed his head, while Yakul drove his spear viciously into the ground and turned from me with a gesture of impatience. Addressing Tiamo, I asked him to accompany me, and we walked along the edge of the grass to a point opposite where the strata of the rock had apparently been disturbed. Then, halting a few moments, I gave him a further message of affection to deliver to my enchantress in case my strength should fail. Overcome with emotion, the faithful slave again and again pointed out the perils of such a rash attempt, urging me to abandon it, but I was determined, and quickly divested myself of a portion of my clothing. Aloud I besought the Omniscient One to bear me on the strong arm of his aid, and shouting a word of encouragement to my alarmed companions, I dashed across the strip of parched, barren ground, holding my breath, throwing myself upon the mercy of the One Merciful--then, a moment later, I plunged headlong into the reeking, malodorous waters. The strange sensation of asphyxiation seized me as I rose to the surface, but, determined not to turn back, I struck out boldly for the opposite side, where the rock descended sheer into the lake. Keeping my mouth well closed I took long, bold strokes, each of which brought me nearer to the precipitous face of the giant rock. The shouts of my excited companions broke upon my ears, but I swam on, striving with all my might. Exerting every muscle, I clave the waters, propelling myself towards the point that had been disturbed by the singular upheaval. Very soon, however, my breathing became shorter and more difficult. The surface of the water seemed gloomy and ominous in the shadow cast by the sacred rock, and although I had long considered myself a strong swimmer, yet the difficulty of gaining breath paralysed my muscles, and a strange cramp that I had never before experienced seemed to seize me in iron grip. In the centre of the dreaded Lake of the Accursed I felt my strength fast ebbing. With set teeth I struggled against the fate that threatened each moment to overwhelm me, and, after resting a few seconds, struck out again straight towards my goal. As I neared it I was astonished to find that swimming was much easier, and my pace increased. Then suddenly I became aware that a current was carrying me swiftly towards the very spot I desired to reach. The dark rock rose before me, bare and imposing, and the black strata, that from the shore had appeared like lines thin as bow strings, now showed wide, rugged and distinct. My satisfaction at being thus assisted by a current, the existence of which I was ignorant, was quickly succeeded by a fear that froze my blood, as suddenly I noticed, right under the disturbed portion of the rock, a great eddying whirlpool, towards which I was being swiftly carried. To enter those circling waters meant certain death. With all my might I fought and struggled, endeavouring to turn back, but, alas! found myself utterly powerless, being carried helplessly forward towards the funnel-shaped depression in the centre of the whirlpool, where all objects that entered were sucked down into its deep, unfathomable depths. When in England, I read of fatal circling currents in the sea, but the discovery of one in a still lake dismayed me. Onward I was swept, the current gaining greater rapidity every moment. Knowing that no hand could be outstretched to rescue me, I cried farewell words to my companions. But my voice, thin and weak as a child's, could not reach them. For life I fought desperately, but all effort was futile. Like a mere chip of wood floating upon the surface I was drawn into the fatal circle, and carried round the outer edge of the strange whirlpool with such terrible velocity that my head reeled, and a sickening dizziness overcrept me. So near I passed to the mysterious rock, that in order to steady and save myself, I clutched at its smooth, gigantic base with both hands. But only for a second. Over the pale yellow slime with which the stone was covered my frantic fingers slipped, and falling back powerless into the eddying waters, I was again swept into the fatal, ever-narrowing circle. The eddying current whirled me round and round with amazing swiftness for a few moments, until suddenly I reached its centre, and felt myself being sucked down by an irresistible force. An instant later I knew that the black waters had closed over me. Confused sounds roared in my ears like the thunder in Ramadan, but ere my sensibility became utterly obliterated I knew I was being carried deep down into a darkness that, even in my critical state of breathless half-consciousness, filled me with an all-consuming terror and chilled my heart. CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. WHERE DWELT THE DEVOURER. In the appalling darkness that overwhelmed me, I fought, blindly beating the water with frantic hands. As I struggled to extricate myself from the power of the whirling current my arms suddenly struck against stones on either side. With desperate effort I put out my hands, and to my amazement found myself being carried onward, by a rushing flood, through what appeared to be a narrow tunnel in the face of the rock, deep below the lake's surface. Though but half conscious, I remember distinctly reflecting that the whirlpool had no doubt been caused by this violent outrush of water descending to feed some subterranean river, and that the chasm had probably been caused by the volcanic disturbance that had first attracted my attention. Half suffocated, and powerless against the roaring torrent, I was sucked downward, deep into the fathomless chasm. Suddenly my fingers came in contact with a projecting ledge of rock, which I gripped with all my might, just managing to steady myself, and so arrest my further progress. Drawing breath, I was amazed to find that my head was above water, although the wild roar of the flood was deafening, and in the total darkness I could distinguish nothing. With set teeth I strained every muscle, and after several futile attempts, at length succeeded in scrambling over black, slime-covered stones beyond reach of the roaring torrent rushing down to mysterious subterranean depths. Strangely enough, the air seemed fresher than outside in the lake, for here, in the heart of the rock, there appeared to be ventilation. This discovery renewed my hopes. The aperture that admitted air would prove a means of egress from that dark, loathsome place, if only I could discover it. Though still giddy from the effects of the whirling waters, I rose slowly to my feet, and found that I could stand upright. With eager fingers outstretched before me I felt my way carefully onward over the rocks, rendered slippery by the sulphurous deposits of ages. In fear and trepidation lest I should slip and fall into some yawning fissure, I nevertheless groped on up a steady incline until suddenly my eyes caught a faint but welcome glimmer of grey light. Towards this I stumbled on, falling once upon my hands and severely grazing them, but taking no heed of the accident in my breathless eagerness to discover some means of escape. I stood facing the mute darkness, all mystery, and gloom. Clambering on over some rough boulders, and passing between the great rocks that had fallen so near to one another that it was with difficulty I squeezed between them, I at length found myself in an enormous cavern, from the vaulted roof of which depended gigantic stalactites, while high up, and inaccessible, was an aperture that admitted light and air, but, in front of me, all was a black, impenetrable darkness. The great place had, undoubtedly, been formed by the action of the water, but the process had involved an enormous length of time, and now the course of the subterranean stream had been diverted by some upheaval. With the evil-smelling waters dripping from my ragged gandoura, I stood gazing around the great, natural chamber in wonderment. Was this the cavern described in the legends as the entrance to the Land of the No Return? the dwelling-place of the savage reptile that acted as janitor? My eyes were fixed upon the Cimmerian gloom beyond, for I feared to come face to face with some unknown and uncanny tenant of that chamber, where my timid footsteps echoed away into the impenetrable blackness, in which every sound became exaggerated, and every object weirdly distorted. The sides of the cavern were apparently of rough, black granite, but in the grey light that fell across the place, the long crystals of fantastic shape glistened and shone with the brilliance of diamonds, and the floor, rough and uneven, was formed of huge boulders, that had evidently been tossed hither and thither by the violent volcanic eruption that had altered the angle of the strata outside. Little rivulets flowed over the floor, cutting deep channels in the stones, where blind and colourless crayfish of enormous size, and of unknown type, slowly crept, while, disporting themselves in the water, were strange, finny denizens of the subterranean river. On examination, I found they had no eyes, and had lost the colouration characteristic of their outer-world relatives, by reason of passing their whole time in total darkness. There were also great, grey toads, and fat, slowly-moving lizards, alike sightless and uncanny. From where I stood, the distant, roaring waters sounded like the continual, monotonous moaning of the storm-wind, and it was with failing heart that I proceeded with my explorations, for I well knew that to reach the exit high above was utterly impossible. Without food or fresh water, I had been drawn into that great cavern by the whirlpool and entombed. Tiamo and Yakul, watching for me to rise to the surface, and finding that I had utterly disappeared, would, I knew, conclude that I had been drowned; and the dwarf, acting upon my instructions, would return to Kano, bearing the sad tidings to Azala. Alas! I could not communicate with them. In my helplessness I cried aloud unto Allah, the Most High, to show me the right path, but my wild wail only echoed through the hollow cavern, like the mocking voice of Azrael. Under the great opening, that was overshadowed by a huge boulder, but into which blew fresh air in stormy gusts, showing that near the spot the rocks were open to the sky. I stood in full consciousness that could I but climb to that altitude I should be enabled to enter the forbidden land. Yet all thought of gaining that exit had to be abandoned. Even if I could scale the steep wall of the cavern, to reach the opening in its roof was impossible. Here was yet another barrier between myself and the unknown. Having carefully surveyed the cavern to right and left, I went forward at last, clambering over great, sharp stones that hurt my feet and grazed my elbows, and splashing into deep black pools, until, passing beyond the circle of light towards the portion of the strange place that remained in total darkness, my eager eyes suddenly caught sight of a portion of the black wall of the cave that had evidently been rendered flat and smooth by the hand of man, and upon it, deeply graven in the stone, but now half-obliterated by Time's effacing finger, was a wall-picture, the extraordinary character of which held me amazed, petrified. Over the strange, fantastic outlines my eyes travelled, deciphering the ancient scene it was intended to represent. An exclamation of amazement involuntarily escaped my parched lips, for it furnished me with the first clue to the mystery I was striving to elucidate. It told me of things of which I had never before dreamed. Truly, I had struggled through the natural, and hitherto impassable barrier between the known world and that unknown, and was now actually on the threshold of a land of a thousand wonders. The earnest, appealing words Azala had uttered, when requesting me to seek the truth, recurred to me, and, as I gazed upon these outlines, limned upon the rock-tablet by hands that ages ago had fallen to dust, I felt myself on the verge of a discovery even more extraordinary than any my wildest thoughts had ever framed. The detail of the mysterious picture was amazing. Its art was unique-- the art of a cultured, luxurious civilisation which had long been forgotten, even in the age when our lord Mahomet lived--but in it was one feature so curious and remarkable that its sight held me breathless, agape, transfixed. The tablet, fashioned from the solid rock, was of great extent, with life-sized figures in bas-relief, sculptured with consummate skill, and as soon as my eyes caught sight of it I recognised its great antiquarian value. The study of forgotten nations had always attracted me from boyhood. Indeed, I had followed the example set by my father, who was perhaps the best-known antiquarian among the Arabs of Algeria, and was frequently sought out by travellers interested in the relics of bygone ages. While I was still a lad, he, at that time living in Constantine, met an Englishman named Layard, who came to examine the inscriptions at the Bab-el-Djabia and the ruins at Sidi Mecid, and subsequently embraced the opportunity of accompanying him through Kurdistan and Mesopotamia as interpreter. Afterwards, he assisted in the excavations on the sites of ancient Babylon and Nineveh, where many wonderful archaeological treasures were brought to light. He was present when the great winged bull was discovered beneath the mound of Nimroud, and on account of the keen interest he took in the various sculptures unearthed, and his ability to sketch them, he was promoted to be one of the Englishman's chief assistants. Thus, from the first great discovery of Assyrian remains, my father had been enabled to study them, and when he returned home four years later, he brought with him many copies of strange cuneiform inscriptions, and drawings of curious sculptures, all of which interested me intensely. From him I thus derived my knowledge of the inscriptions of Babylonia, imperfect though it might be, but yet of sufficient extent to enable me to discern the Arabic equivalents of the strange lines of arrowheads graven upon this rock, and forming part of the picture I had so unexpectedly discovered. While at college in Algiers, I had eagerly devoured the few books in French, explaining the monuments of Babylonia, and in London had continued the study, by that means adding to the knowledge I had already gained under the tuition of my father. Few sons of Al-Islam are archaeologists, but, as with my father, so also with me, the study had been a hobby, and on many occasions the French professors had expressed surprise at the extent of my knowledge of that strange language known as cuneiform. By the dress and physiognomy of the figures portrayed upon the rock-tablet, I at once discerned they were not ancient Egyptian, as I at first believed, but Assyrian. The general arrangement of the picture showed it to be a record of similar character to those found in the wonderful buried palaces of Nineveh and Babylon. In the faint glimmer of light I stood straining my eyes upon this silent record of a forgotten age. The first object I distinguished was a winged circle at the right-hand corner; the emblem of the Babylonian supreme deity. Below, in a chariot drawn by three handsomely-caparisoned horses, were three warriors in coats of mail, one being in the act of discharging an arrow at the enemy, one driving, and the third shielding his companions. The trappings of the horses, and the decorations of the chariot itself consisted of stars and other sacred devices, while at the side was suspended a quiver full of arrows, and the helmets of the warriors showed them to belong to the early Babylonian period. Following the chariot was a eunuch on foot, with a bow over his shoulder, a quiver slung behind, and bearing in his hand a kind of mace. He was represented attired in a dress ornamented richly with gold and heavy fringe, while his upper garment was apparently a golden breastplate, across which showed the band by which the quiver was suspended. He wore no head-dress, and his feet were bare, but his position and bearing denoted that he was the servant of a monarch. Behind him there was depicted a chariot, not so gorgeously decorated as the first, drawn by two horses and led by two men, probably eunuchs. Over the horses' heads rose high plumes, three in number, tassels fell over their foreheads and hung around their necks, together with rosettes, engraved beads and the sacred star; their tails were bound in the centre by ribbons, and suspended from the axle of the chariot was a large tassel. Standing behind, as if already passed by the expedition, the sacred tree was elaborately and tastefully portrayed, the tree bearing a large number of those mystic flowers that are so prominent a feature in early Babylonian decoration, showing that the dwellers within that wonderful city were possessed of highly-refined taste. Below was a picture of two scribes, writing down the number of heads and the amount of spoil, while the tablet behind them was occupied by many lines of graven arrowheads. Underneath was pictured, in graphic detail, a peaceful, religious procession of gods, borne on the shoulders of warriors. Each figure was carried by four men: the first was that of a female seated on a throne, holding in one hand a ring, in the other a kind of fan, and on the top of her square, horned cap was a star. The next figure was also that of a female, wearing a similar cap, seated in a chair, and holding in her left hand a ring; she was also carrying something in her right hand, but its form I could not distinguish. The third figure puzzled me considerably; it was much smaller in its proportions than those preceding it, was half concealed in a case or box, and had a ring in the left hand; while the fourth was that of a man in the act of walking, holding in one hand a thunderbolt, and the other an axe, evidently the Babylonian deity, Belus or Baal. Upon the identity of the other gods I was undecided, but in the right-hand corner of the tablet was sculptured a figure of the goddess Istar, the Assyrian Venus, draped and standing erect on a lion, crowned with a mural coronet, upon which was a star, denoting her divinity. In one hand she was represented as bearing the moon, and the other grasped two objects which had first attracted my attention and riveted my gaze. She was holding out two serpents, entwined in such a manner as to form the puzzling device with which my breast was branded--the Mark of the Asps! Taking a small, flat stone, I stood on tiptoe and carefully scraped away the dirt of ages from that portion of the sculpture, finding underneath the two serpents engraven in minute detail. Then I scraped the dress of the eunuch and found the same symbol there depicted. Save in one or two instances, the ages that had passed since the great rock-tablet had been hewn had left it untouched. The deeper portions of the picture were, however, filled with dark grey moss and the accumulated dirt of centuries, but with the aid of the stone I commenced to scrape the inscriptions and very soon succeeded in so far cleaning them that the lines were decipherable. It was apparent that the intention of the sculptor had been to portray, at the base of the picture, the procession of gods being carried into the Temple of Istar, or Astarte, but the reason she bore in her hand the entwined serpents was a mystery inscrutable. Upon the walls of the palaces at Nimroud, many representations of the goddess, bearing in her hand a single serpent, had been discovered, but never before had she been found pictured with the mystic symbol that had been the problem of my life. I stood before the dark face of rock, speechless in wonderment, for here, as Azala had predicted, I had actually made a discovery, amazing and bewildering. The mark that we both bore upon our breasts had for ages remained engraven there, a symbol of forgotten deity, a device, no doubt, held in reverence and awe by a civilisation now vanished. That vast, weird cavern, filled with the monotonous roar of tumbling waters, inhabited by blind, unknown animals and reptiles, yet rendered almost fairylike by its wonderful stalactites, which glittered whenever a shaft of pale light caught them, was indeed peopled by ghosts of the past. By whose hand had those marvellous pictures been chiselled? By whose order had that tablet been prepared? The dark, gloomy place was, indeed, well named the Gate of the Land of the No Return. Was I not actually within the Rock of the Great Sin? What, I wondered, was the nature of the great sin to which the rock had remained a mute witness? With arms folded, I stood gazing upon the sculptured stone, long and earnestly, thinking, with affection, of the graceful, trustful woman who loved me, and for whose sake I had struggled to set foot upon ground that for ages had remained untrodden by man. Even at that moment I knew, alas! that her slave, Tiamo, would be on his way back to Kano to impart the news of my death, and I myself was powerless. To return was impossible. I was compelled to proceed. But if I failed to discover any exit? The dread thought chilled my heart. Perhaps, after all, I had been entombed, and my fate would be death from starvation. With only an impenetrable darkness beyond, the outlook was by no means reassuring; nevertheless, I struggled desperately to stifle my apprehensions, determined to decipher, as far as my knowledge served me, the cuneiform inscription, which I anticipated might explain the mystery of the symbol borne by the goddess Istar, whose worship formed such a historical feature in the religion of Babylon. As I gazed around the dull, dispiriting, natural chamber, there crept over my heart a terrible sense of loneliness, such as I have never before experienced. Seized by an appalling, indescribable dread, I shuddered. Next second, however, I set my teeth firmly, arguing within myself that upon my coolness my escape might depend, and then commenced a careful study of the parallel lines of chiselled characters. For fully an hour I was engaged in scraping and deciphering each word, finding their study so fascinating, that I actually forgot that I was alone in that wonderful natural prison. A considerable time elapsed before I could discover the commencement of the inscription, but having done so, I found that, with the exception of one or two small places, where the action of time upon the stone had caused it to fall in scales and thus efface the words, I could decipher it sufficiently well to ascertain its purport. The words I read caused me to stand aghast. The statement, quaintly expressed and sometimes vague, staggered belief. Commencing about the centre of the tablet, it read as follows:-- "Ruler of the World and Builder of Babylon, the City of Cities, I, Semiramis, daughter of the Moon-god, Sin, who conquered the hosts of my enemies, who is never triumphed over by my foes, who put my captives to the sword and offered sacrifices, caused this record to be written by Nebu-sum-Iskum, my scribe, in the month Elul, day 18th, year 25th. Semiramis, Queen of Babylon. "_The record of my warriors, the battle-shout of my fighting, the submission of enemies hostile, whom Anu and Rimmon to destruction have given, on this my tablet and my foundation-stone have I written. The tablets of my father duly I cleaned_; _victims I sacrificed; to their places I restored for future days, for a day long hereafter, for whatsoever queen hereafter reigneth. When the temple of Anu and Rimmon, the gods great, my lords, its walls grow old and palaces decay, their ruins may she renew, my tablets and my foundation-stones duly may she cleanse, victims may she slay, to their places may she restore, and her name with mine may she write. Like myself, may Anu and Rimmon, the great gods, in soundness of heart and conquest in battle bountifully keep her. He who my inscriptions and my foundation-stones shall conceal, shall hide, to the water shall lay, to the fire shall burn, in dust shall cower in a home underground, a place, not seen for interpretation shall set, the name written shall erase and his own name shall write, and an attack evil shall devise; he also, from the world I have left, who seeketh to enter this my kingdom called Ea, the Land of the Lord of Wisdom, may Anu and Assur, the gods great, my lords, strongly injure him, and with a curse grievous may they curse him. May he wither beneath the touch of Niffer, lord of the Ghost Land, his kingdom may the gods dissipate, and may he be rooted up and destroyed from out of his country; the armies of his lordship may they devour, his weapons may they break, the destruction of his army may they cause; in the presence of his enemies wholly may they cause him to dwell; may the Air-god with pestilence and destruction his land cut off; want of crops famine and corpses against his land may he lay; against the sovereignty of his full power may he speak; his name, his seed in the land may he destroy_. "_To extend my empire I left Ninyas, my son, to govern Babylon, and went forth with my legions into the land of the Ethiopians, and there overthrew mine enemies, of captives taken forty thousand, and of oxen twenty thousand, and much spoils of gold and silver and precious stones. And the number of the slaughtered men amounted to thirty thousand. Even while my warriors were counting their great spoils came there unto them news astounding, that over Babylon my son, Ninyas, had proclaimed himself king, whereupon my army that I had led rose up against me, their quern, and marched northward, through the land of the Egyptians, to the banks of the river where I built Babylon and constructed my gardens that overhang and are unsurpassed. May they enter the regions of corruption, the dwelling of the deity Irkalla: may dust be their food, their victuals mud; may the light they not see, and in a terrible darkness dwell. Of my legions and my slaves as many as have remained loyal unto me, numbering twenty thousand, renounced their citizenship, and after wandering and fighting for twenty moons, accompanied me unto this place, the road whose way is without return, to the house whose entrance is without exit, there to found a country that I have named Ea, and raised up my throne in a city which standeth from this Rock of Sin, the Moon-god, fifteen marches towards the sunrise... Here have I offered sacrifices to the Sun-god and to Anu, and set up this my record. To this, my land, none may enter and none may leave on pain of a death terrible and swift. Upon him who breaketh this my commandment may the wrath of the Air-god most avenging fall, may he be smitten with pestilence, may his limbs rot and drop asunder, and may he fall captive in the hands of the great Devourer of the Living... Lo! I am Astarte, worshipped by men in the temples of Babylon, and the star is set upon my head. This my commandment have I written here, at the Gate of the Land of the No Return, which is the only entrance to the country without exit; the country in which I have raised the city called Ea, the gates of which are of brass, and the magnificence of which surpasseth even Babylon which I built, and upon which my curse hath now fallen. These are the words of Semiramis, the queen whom men call Istar, daughter of the Moon-god, the conqueror of all enemies, who founded the Kingdom of Ea, to which men from the world we have left may not enter, neither may a single man, woman or child among my subjects leave. Verily, this my kingdom is the Land of the No Return, and I, Semiramis, who ruled over Babylon, and who, as Istar, ruleth all men throughout the world, have here built my palace and established my foundation-stones and set up my monuments. This throne have I, the goddess-queen of the world and of the heavens, erected. He who seeketh to enter my forbidden kingdom, to tear it out or overthrow it, so shall he and his family be torn out and be overthrown, and from his place shall he be uprooted_. _And I have set up this throne in the strength of the Sun-god Shamas, lord of light, and driver away of evil, to whom I have offered sacrifices and burnt-offerings abundant. These words I speak_." Thrice I deciphered this strange record from beginning to end, to reassure myself that my eyes did not deceive me, until at length I became convinced that I had elucidated its meaning correctly; that I was actually on the threshold of the Land of the No Return; that could I only escape from my subterranean prison, I might actually discover the hidden, unknown and mysterious Kingdom of Ea, founded by the great queen, who, ages ago, built the most wonderful city of cities. I stretched forth my hands above my head, and with a loud voice implored the aid, protection and guidance of the One. But my words only came back to me from the dark, damp recesses of the cavern, deep, distinct and dismal. There was no exit. CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. THE LAND OF THE NO RETURN. With strained eyes and failing heart, I gazed around the gloomy, sepulchral cavern. High above, a faint grey light glimmered far beyond my reach, while before me was only an impenetrable darkness, wherein I feared to venture, lest I should fall into some abyss. The curious wall-picture looked weird in the faint rays, and the long row of warriors, bearing the figures of their strange gods, presented a fantastic, but dismal, appearance. Once again I stood gazing at the strange sculpture, fascinated by the device of the asps, the strange symbol that had linked Azala's destiny with mine, and the meaning of which it was my sole object to discover. Beyond, in the undiscovered Land of the No Return, an explanation might await me, if only I could reach that mysterious region; but, as again I gazed about me, I could not rid myself of a horrible presage that the rushing, poisonous waters had drawn me to my doom. I had taken in every detail of that scene sculptured in the black rock with such minuteness that, if called upon, I could have made a drawing of it with accuracy, for therein lay the first clue to the mystery. This remarkable record of Semiramis, besides putting an end to the doubts which for ages had existed regarding her deposition as Queen of Babylon, also announced the establishment of a new colony, of which the world, up to that moment, had gained no knowledge. Historians, antiquarians, professors, imams and wise men of Al-Islam had for centuries been puzzled by the strange legends, but had never penetrated the veil of mystery. It had remained for me to unearth a record of the highest interest, which for ages had lain hidden within its natural tomb. Deciphering those chipped lines of curious arrowheads, I felt myself on the threshold of a world unknown, and trembled lest I should encounter any uncanny or undreamed-of object in that wonderful chamber below the earth. As I stepped across the sulphur-stained rocks, in order to examine the opposite wall of the cavern, my foot caught some object, and stooping, I picked it up. It was a short, straight sword of very ancient pattern, still in its scabbard, with a wonderfully wrought crosshilt of gold thickly encrusted with dirt. I endeavoured to draw the weapon, but failed, for the blade was firmly rusted in its sheath, therefore, finding it useless and only an encumbrance, I was compelled to cast it aside. From where I stood I gazed upon the curious monument of a momentous but forgotten period, and the sight of the strange symbol brought vividly to my mind my faithful promise to Azala, and my dead mother's injunction to prosecute the search after truth. I remembered that upon the result of my mission Azala's happiness, perhaps even her life, depended; therefore, with sudden resolve, I saw that to escape by the way I had entered was impossible; to penetrate the rayless darkness beyond was the only chance remaining to me. At first I shuddered at the suggestion, not because I entertained any foolish superstition, but the place was altogether so weird and extraordinary that I deemed it more than probable I should witness some terrible sight, or encounter some strange being unknown to our world. Unarmed, clothed only in a wet and ragged gandoura, but with my little string of charms I had worn since childhood still around my neck, I stood breathless in hesitation. For Azala's sake I had plunged into the Unknown, and I decided that to secure our mutual happiness I must face the consequences, which meant the exploration of that dark, sepulchral pit. Already Tiamo was on his way to her to impart news which I knew would cause her despair. Dire consequences might follow. Therefore I knew it was imperative that I should, in order that her grief might not be unduly prolonged, lose no time in seeking the truth and returning to her. Thus, at last, after considerable trepidation and hesitation, I strove to overcome my fears, and decided to proceed with my investigations, and search in the darkness for some exit. Many were the perils I had faced fearlessly during my adventurous career as one of the Ansar of the Khalifa, and through the tedious journey in search of the Land of the No Return, but never in the darkest hours had I experienced such abject, indescribable fear as now froze my heart and held me inanimate and powerless. I clenched my hand, and, turning my eager ear towards the invisible portion of the great natural chamber, listened. But I could detect no sound beyond the roaring of the torrent; then, with a sudden determination to penetrate and explore the place, I strode forward into the very bowels of the earth, entering a darkness that could almost be felt, as impenetrable, indeed, as that to which our holy Koran tells us the tormented dwellers in Al-Hotama are doomed. On, with both hands outstretched, I groped, now tripping in the fissures cut deeply in the rock by the tiny rivulets which seemed to traverse the floor of the cavern in every direction, now floundering through a quagmire of slush which emitted an unpleasant, sulphurous odour, often cutting my feet upon the sharp, jagged rocks, and frequently grazing my knees and elbows. But I was too excited to notice pain. Of the size or extent of the place I had no idea, but, having ventured therein, I was compelled to proceed, and continued my explorations, penetrating deeper and deeper into the tunnel-like cave. At first I had proceeded very slowly and with great caution, but soon, anxious to ascertain whether exit were possible, my feet hurried, and I stumbled quickly onward, eager to discover the extent and nature of the honeycombed labyrinth, fearing lest, after all, it might be merely a _cul-de-sac_. I was actually in the very heart of the giant base of the Rock of the Great Sin, the wonderful black, towering crag which had only existed in the morning mirage of the desert and in the legends of the story-tellers throughout the Soudan. Over ground that foot of man had not trodden for ages I stumbled, seeking the unknown alone, unarmed, and in darkness appalling and complete. Reflection brought with it a sense of impending danger, an evil presage that, strive how I would, I could not get rid of its depressing influence. Yet the calm face of Azala, with her dark, serious, trusting eyes rose before me, and the thought continued to recur to me that for her sake I had striven, and, so far, been successful. Once again the knowledge of her passionate love held me to my purpose; once again I pressed forward blindly to seek the knowledge that for all time had been withheld from man. On I went through the everlasting gloom, clambering over the rough, uneven rocks, then sinking knee-deep in the slimy deposits left by the rivulets. In the impenetrable darkness of the noisome place, strange noises startled me as blind, unseen reptiles escaped from my path, plunging into the water with a splash, and great lizards scuttled to their holes beneath the stones. Between giant boulders, which had apparently fallen from the roof, I squeezed myself, climbing over high barriers of stone and creeping on all-fours through crevices that were all but impassable, I had proceeded for more than one hour. I shouted, but the distant echoes above and around showed that the extent of the gloomy place was bewildering, and so complete was the darkness that the terrible dread oppressing me became intensified. Nevertheless, one important fact gave me heart, causing me to persevere, namely, the atmosphere was not poisonous, showing that somewhere in that wonderful grotto air was admitted. Where there was air there must be light, I argued, and where light, then means of exit. Therefore I proceeded, with eyes strained in the blackness before me, hoping each moment to discern some welcome glimmer of the blessed light of day. But, alas! although my wandering footsteps took me deeper and deeper, no welcome ray was I enabled to detect. Had I but a torch, my progress would have been more rapid, for I could have avoided sinking into those sloughs of icy-cold slush, and could have stepped across the water-courses instead of stumbling clumsily into them. Half the horrors surrounding me would have been dispelled if my path had been lighted; but when I had stood before the graven picture I had sought carefully, but in vain, for wood that I might ignite by rubbing, and so construct a flambeau. Compelled to plunge into the impenetrable gloom, without light or means to defend myself, I was truly in unenviable predicament. With dogged pertinacity of purpose, engendered, perhaps, by the knowledge that to escape from that subterranean chamber was imperative if I did not seek starvation and death, I kept on until my legs grew weary and almost gave way beneath me. My feet were so pained by the sharp stones that I at last tore strips from my gandoura and tied them up, obtaining considerable relief thereby. Then, starting forward again, faint and hungry, I plodded still onward towards the dreaded unknown. Some knowledge of the enormous extent of the place may be gathered from the fact that for fully three hours I had proceeded, when suddenly an incident occurred which caused me to pull up quickly and stand motionless, not daring to move. Beads of perspiration broke upon my forehead as I realised an imminent peril. In walking I had accidentally sent some pebbles flying before me, and my quick ears had discerned that they had struck and bounded down into some abyss in the immediate vicinity. Instantly I halted, and it proved a stroke of good fortune that I did so, for on going upon my knees and carefully stretching forth my hands, I was horrified to discover myself on the very edge of a yawning chasm, the depth or extent of which it was impossible to determine. Here, then, was an impassable barrier to my further progress! For three long hours I had struggled to penetrate the horrible place, but now, in despair, I told myself that all had been in vain. My eager fingers felt the jagged edge of the abyss before me. Then, lying full length upon the damp, slimy rock, with head over the great pit, I shouted in order to ascertain its depth. My voice, though echoing above, sounded hollow and became lost in the depths below. Groping about, I discovered a stone the size of my fist, and hurling it over, listened, with bated breath. The minutes passed, but no sound rose. Again I threw down another piece of rock, but, as before, I could detect no noise of it striking the bottom. The chasm was unfathomable. Again, taking some small pebbles worn smooth by the action of the water, I flung them a considerable distance into the darkness. Apparently they struck the rocks on the opposite side of the terrible pit, for I could hear them bounding down from crag to crag until the noise became so faint that they were lost entirely. Once more I shouted, but my voice echoed not in that vast, immeasurable abyss that had evidently been caused by the same great upheaval which had, ages before, closed the entrance to the cavern, and formed the dreaded Lake of the Accursed. Might not the exit have been sealed in the same manner as the entrance? The suggestion crossed my mind and held me appalled. Finding myself unable to proceed further, I crept, still upon my hands and knees, along near the edge of the chasm for a considerable distance, until at last I found, to my delight, that it extended no further, and by the exercise of constant caution I crawled onward, length by length, until I discovered, by casting pebbles about, that I had passed it. Then gladly, with a feeling of apprehension lifted from my heart, I rose again, and with renewed energy continued my way. After this incident I took every precaution, consequently my progress was slow and painful. The thought of how narrowly I had escaped a horrible death caused me to shudder, nevertheless my eyes were eager to discover some welcome gleam of light and hope. During yet another hour I struggled forward over ground that rose gradually, then descended again so steeply, until I began to fear that another chasm lay before. My fears, however, in this direction proved groundless. Yet, as I proceeded, the little stream seemed to increase in volume, and there was a damp, noxious smell about the noisome place which gave rise to a belief that, after all, there was no exit, and that the cavern, like the forbidden land, was a place whence, if once entered, there was no return. Just as that conviction was forced strongly upon me, I also discovered another more startling fact, which rendered my despair complete, and told me plainly that in that dwelling of the Great Devourer I should find my grave. My progress had been arrested; my hands had come into contact with a wall of rock which stretched before me on either side. I shouted, and the unseen rock gave back my voice, proving that I had gained the extreme end of the cavern. Determined to thoroughly investigate this abrupt termination of the place before seeking an exit in another direction, I crept forward, feeling the rough, rocky wall with eager, trembling hands. Having proceeded for some distance, my heart suddenly bounded with excitement as I discovered another outlet beyond, and eagerly stumbled forward, still in impenetrable gloom. All the strange legends and tales of the storytellers I had heard related regarding this weird place surged through my mind, and, as I pressed forward, I admit that I was in constant fear and trepidation lest I should meet, face to face, the legendary tenant of this limitless subterranean labyrinth, the terrible being referred to on the tablet of Semiramis as the Great Devourer, or Guardian of the Gate of the Land of the No Return. But the entrance to the forbidden land, if thus it proved to be, was difficult enough, and guarded by horrors and pitfalls sufficient without the necessity of a janitor such as that described so luridly by tellers of strange romances in the desert-camps. Stumbling on up a steep incline I was at length compelled to halt to regain breath. Weakened by the desperate fight I had had for life amid the roaring torrent which had sucked me down, fatigued by the struggle to penetrate the deep recesses of the cavern, I rested for a few moments, my head reeling and my legs trembling as if unable to support my body. Suddenly a loud, shrill cry caused me to start, and next second a gust of air was swept into my face by the flapping of enormous wings. For an instant I felt the presence of some uncanny object near me, but in a moment it had gone, and when I recovered from my sudden alarm, I knew that it was some great bird which probably had its nest in some deep and secret crevice. Its shrill, plaintive cry echoed among the vast recesses, but grew fainter as it flew on before me. My sudden terror was quickly succeeded by feelings of satisfaction, for the presence of the bird was sufficient proof that there was an exit in the vicinity. With heart quickened by excitement I once again moved forward, gained the summit of the incline, clambered quickly over some gigantic masses of fallen rock, and at last, when I had mounted to the top of what at first seemed an impassable barrier, my eyes were gladdened by a sight which caused me to cry aloud with joy. Far below me, so distant as to appear like a mere speck of grey, the light of day was shining. Its approach was by a rough and exceedingly steep descent, but I hurried on with foolish disregard of the perils which beset my path, on account of the slippery deposits on the stones. Once or twice I nearly came to grief. In places the descent was so abrupt that I had to turn and crawl down, steadying myself with my hands and knees; but I heeded nothing in my frantic eagerness to escape and gain the dreaded Land of the Myriad Mysteries. As I neared the opening, I discovered it was not large, and half choked by masses of rock that had either fallen or been placed there to bar the entrance, while about them were tangled masses of profuse vegetation, which no doubt hid the existence of the cavern to any who should chance to pass it outside. In the high roof near the exit, hundreds of birds of brilliant plumage had their nests, and were flying in and out, singing and uttering shrill cries, while in the light and air, moss, plants and giant ferns grew in wild profusion. Great green snakes, too, lay curled beneath the stones, and I was compelled to be wary, lest I should be bitten. Even on arrival here my escape was barred by a huge mass of stone three times higher than myself, and so wide that it entirely filled up the exit. Nevertheless, I managed, after considerable difficulty, to scale the rocky obstacle, and pausing on its summit for a moment, I ascertained that a dense forest lay beyond. Then I descended through the tangled bushes and creepers to the ground outside, and once more stood free in the fresh air, with a brilliant, cloudless sky above. I had actually set foot in the forbidden Land of the No Return! But it was already the hour of the _maghrib_, and the fast dying day showed that the time I had spent in the wonderful dwelling of the Great Devourer, was longer than I had imagined. Remembering that at that hour Azala had opened her lattice and breathed to me her silent message of love, I sank upon my knees, and turning in the direction of prayer, went through my sunset devotions with an earnest fervency which I fear was unusual, thanking Allah in a loud and thrice-repeated Fatiha. Rising, and lifting my hands to heaven, I uttered the words that pilgrims repeat before the Black Stone in the Holy Ca'aba: "There is no God but Allah alone, Whose Covenant is Truth, and Whose Servant is Victorious. There is no God but Allah without Sharer; His is the Kingdom, to him be Praise, and He over all Things is potent." Then, having kissed my fingers, I made a meal from bananas I plucked from a neighbouring tree, and having slacked my thirst at a tiny stream, the water of which was as cool as that of the well Zem Zem, I skirted the forest for a considerable distance, but finding my further progress barred by a wide river, that, emerging from the wood, ran in serpentine wanderings around the base of the high, inaccessible mountains, I was compelled to plunge into the forest. Upon the tablets of Semiramis, it was stated that the unknown city of Ea had been built at a spot fifteen marches towards the sunrise, therefore in that direction I proceeded. At first, the forest was rendered dark and gloomy by the entangled bushes, but the trees soon grew thinner, yet more luxurious. Many of them were in blossom; many bore strange fruits that I had never before beheld; while the ground was carpeted with moss and an abundance of bright-hued flowers. Everywhere was an air of peaceful repose. Birds were chattering before roosting in the branches above, the rays of the sinking sun gilded the leaves and fell in golden shafts across my path, a bubbling brook ran with rippling music over the pebbles, and the air was heavily laden with the subtle scent of a myriad perfumes. Presently, when I had penetrated the belt of forest and emerged into the open grassland, I stood in amazement, gazing upon one of the fairest and most picturesque landscapes that my wondering eyes had ever beheld. The country I had entered was the dreaded kingdom of the Myriad Mysteries; yet, judging from its fertility and natural beauties, it appeared to me more like the paradise our Koran promises for our enjoyment than a land of dread. Indeed, as I stood there in the cool sunset hour, amid the fruitful trees, sweet flowers and smiling plains, bounded far away by ranges of purple mountains, I doubt whether it would have surprised me to have met in that veritable garden of delights the black-eyed houris which the Book of Everlasting Will describes as dwelling in pavilions, among trees of mauz and lote-trees free from thorns. Such, indeed, I thought, must be the dwelling-place prepared for the Companions of the Right Hand, for are they not promised couches adorned with gold and precious stones, under an extended shade, near a flowing water, and amidst fruits of abundance which shall not fail nor shall be forbidden to be gathered? Slowly turning, I gazed back upon the Rock of Sin, the Moon-god, the name of which in the centuries that had passed had been so strangely corrupted by Arabs and pagans alike, and noticed that although from where I stood its summit looked similar in form to its aspect from the other side of the Lake of the Accursed, yet it was not so lofty here, and evidently this hitherto undiscovered region was considerably higher than the countries surrounding it, although even here the mountains forming its boundary were of great altitude, many of their summits being tipped with snow. Dark, frowning and mysterious, the rock rose high among the many peaks of the unknown range, while behind the giant crests to the left the western sky was literally ablaze, and the sun, having already disappeared, caused them to loom darkly in the shadows. Out upon the plain I passed, keeping still to eastward, but soon the light blue veil of the mountains before me became tinted with violet and indigo, and finally settled into leaden death. Then night crept on, and the stars shone bright as diamonds in a sultan's aigrette. During several silent hours I could discover no sign of man, but at length, when I had crossed the plain, with the moon lighting my footsteps like a lamp, I approached, at the foot of a hill, a wonderful colonnade of colossal stone columns, some of which had broken off half way up and fallen, while across the quaintly-sculptured capitals of others there still remained great square blocks that had once supported a roof. Here and there in the vicinity were other columns, singly, and in twos and threes, while the intervening ground was covered with _debris_, over which crept a growth of tangled vegetation, as if striving to hide the ravages of time. The great ruin, apparently of an ancient palace or temple, stood in desolate grandeur, ghostly in the white moonlight, while behind rose verdant hills, steep and difficult of ascent. Approaching close to the columns, through a mass of fallen masonry and wildly-luxuriant verdure, I examined them, and was struck by the enormous size of the blocks of stone from which they had been fashioned, and the curious and grotesque manner in which they had been sculptured with figures. The art was of the same character on these monoliths as upon the tablet of Semiramis, the beautiful and brilliant queen who was worshipped as a goddess. There were many representations of the Assyrian deity, and in places lines of cuneiform writing, but the suns and rains of ages had almost obliterated them, and had also caused much damage to the sculptured figures. In the silence of the brilliant night I stood beneath those amazing relics of a forgotten civilisation and pictured the departed magnificence of the wonderful structure. There remained portions of an enormous gateway, with giant winged human figures carved out of huge blocks of stone; and on examining one of these I found a portion of an inscription, in long, thin lines of arrowheads, easily decipherable in the full light of the moon. After a little difficulty I succeeded in reading it as follows:-- "_In the beginning of my everlasting reign there was revealed to me a dream. Merodach, the Great Lord, and Sin, the Illuminator of Heaven and Earth, stood round about me. Merodach spake to me, `O Semiramis, Queen of Babylon, with the horses of thy chariot come, the bricks of the House of Light make, and the Moon, the Great Lord within it caused to be raised his dwelling.' Reverently I spake to the lord of the gods, Merodach, `This house, of which thou speakest, I will build, and the temple shall be the dwelling of the Moon-god in Ea_'." What a magnificent pile it must have been in those long-forgotten days when the legions of Semiramis marched, in glittering array, through the long colonnade to worship the Moon-god, Sin, beneath the statues of illustrious Babylonians! or when their luxurious ruler, enthroned a queen in the hearts of her people, and dowered with charms that inspired to heroism, flashed through those great corridors in her gilded chariot, surrounded by her crowd of martial courtiers and fair slaves! or when, with bare arms and golden helmet on her head, with all the pomp of war, she sallied forth on her fleet steed, caparisoned in crimson and gold, to review and harangue her warriors on the plain. Allah had destroyed it because it was ungodly. No trace of the presence of living man had I discovered, and I began to wonder whether, after all, this Land of the No Return was uninhabited; for was it not likely that in the ages that had passed since its discovery by Babylon's queen, the colony, like the once-powerful race beside the Euphrates, had dwindled away and become entirely extinct! There were no signs of these ruins having been visited, no trace of any recent encampment, or the dead ashes of the fires of recent travellers. Upon the stretch of bare, stony ground, before the half-ruined gateway which would have served as a good camping-ground, I searched diligently, but discovered nothing that proved the existence of inhabitants; therefore, wearied and footsore, I at length threw myself down at the base of one of the giant monoliths, and with part of my gandoura over my face to shield it from the evil influence of the moonbeams, sank into heavy, dreamless slumber. CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. A VISITANT FROM THE MISTS. Day had dawned fully three hours ere I arose. The great ruins, revealed by the brilliant morning sun, were much more extensive than I had at first believed. For fully half a mile mighty columns rose, here and there, like gigantic, moveless giants; many had fallen, and their walls of enormous blocks and their prostrate pillars looked up piteously to the day. Time alone had worn down their rigid strength, and swept the capstones from the towers. Time, too, had clad some of them in a disintegrating mantle of green. There was not one of the hundred columns and monoliths in which did not lurk some tale, or many tales, of loyalty, or treason, or despair. There was not one of the five great gates I could distinguish whose portal had not swung open wide for processions of triumphal pageantry, of exalted grief, of pagan pomp, or military expedition. Thick as the leaves of the climbing plants, festooning crevice, niche and broken parapet, must be the legends, traditions and true tales that enwrapped those walls if man still inhabited that land. Upon the stones, chipped with surprising neatness and regularity, were many uneffaced inscriptions; the pompous eulogies therein contained being the only epitaphs the long-dead founders of the Kingdom of Ea possessed. This prodigious pile, useless centuries ago, torn by earthquakes and half levelled by time, was indeed a fitting monument to the great Semiramis, the self-indulgent Queen, the conqueror of all lands from the Indus to the Mediterranean, and builder of Babylon, the most extensive and wonderful capital in the world. At last, turning my back upon the desolate scene, I went forward and commenced to ascend the steep hillside. It was a stiff ascent, but, on gaining the summit, I looked down upon a panorama of beauty impossible to adequately describe. Streams, forests and verdant valleys stretched out below, bounded far away by a range of fantastic mountains rising in finger points in all directions. Proceeding in search of the mysterious, unknown city, which, according to the inscription, lay in the direction of prayer, I descended the steep hill, passed through vast entanglements of jungle in the valleys, suddenly coming across a delightful stream watering a narrow valley with precipitous walls of rock on either side, and densely filled with all kinds of tropical vegetation. I ate some bananas, revelled in the luxury of a bath, and then continued my journey towards the sunrise by plunging into a forest of quol-quol trees, some of which reached to the height of sixty feet, stretching out their weird arms in every direction. The quol-quol is an uncanny-looking tree, exuding a poisonous, milky gum, which is exceedingly dangerous. The Dervishes, in making their roads around Khartoum and Omdurman, had much difficulty with this tree, for the milk from it, if it squirts into the eyes when the tree is cut, produces blindness. Beneath the trees were flowering, rich-coloured gladioli, long, hanging orchids, sugar plants, and many thorny trees of a species I had never before seen. Lonely, and half convinced that I had entered a land uninhabited and forgotten, I threaded the mazes of this veritable poison forest, at length emerging into a clump of gigantic baobabs, and thence into a slightly undulating district, sparsely clothed with thorns and euphorbia, and teeming with game. At last I found myself crossing a beautiful, park-like track where herds of buffalo grazed undisturbed, and at sundown came to a rich, fertile country, dotted with clumps of pine-trees and large patches of forest, abounding in pretty glades and glens of mimosa brush full of beautiful blue birds and monkeys. That night I sought sleep under a huge sycamore, and next day continued my tramp towards the distant range of mountains, over the crests of which showed the first rosy tint of dawn. Compelled sometimes to wade streams, and often climbing and descending precipitous rocks, passing through narrow, romantic gorges, and coming now and then upon beautiful and unexpected cascades, I toiled onward through that day, and although I passed some ruins, apparently of a house, half hidden by wild vegetation, yet I discovered no trace of the existence of living man. Never before had I experienced such a sense of utter loneliness. I had the bright sun and cloudless sky above. I was free to wander hither and thither, and around me grew fruits that were the necessaries of life; but I was alive in a region which, as far as I could observe, had remained untrodden for many centuries. Again I spent the night beneath a tree, my head pillowed on a fallen branch; and again I set forth to reach my goal, as recorded on the rock-tablet of Semiramis. Forward, ever in the direction of the Holy Ca'aba across grass plains, through rocky ravines and shady woods bright with flowers, and as sweetly-scented as the harem of a sultan, I trudged onward, in my hand a long, stout staff which I had broken from a tree, in my heart a feeling that I alone was monarch of this smiling, unknown Land of the No Return that I had discovered. Yet I remembered that, after all, I had not yet elucidated the mystery of which I was in search--the reason of the Mark of the Asps; and although I had discovered it in the hand of the Assyrian goddess, yet such discovery only increased its mystery. So I kept on my toilsome path, stage by stage, still pious, still hopeful, still believing that the secret of the linked reptiles would eventually be explained. Never swerving from the direction of the sunrise, and each day at the _maghrib_ making a mark upon my staff with the sharp stone I carried, I continued in search of the city of Semiramis. Up the almost inaccessible face of one of the great mountains of the range I had seen afar I toiled many hours, until, stepping from sunshine into mist and drizzle, my feet were upon the snow that covered their summits, and the intense cold chilled me to the bone. Higher yet was I compelled to climb, until, as if by magic, I passed through the belt of mist into brilliant sunshine again. The effect was one of the most curious I had ever witnessed. Below was a sea of crumpled clouds, extending as far as the eye could reach, out of which peered high mountain peaks like islands in a sea of fleecy wool. During two whole days I clambered, half-starved and chilled, across this vast, towering range. The air was health-giving and invigorating. In the early morning everything was clear and bright; as the day advanced the clouds would gather from the plains and gradually roll up the mountain side, enveloping the lowlands and valleys in a dense mist; occasionally, towards sundown, this mist would roll over the edge and envelop a little of the high plateau in its clammy folds, but it quickly dispersed as the sun went down, and the morning would again break bright, with hoar frost sparkling everywhere. At the foot of the mountains the ground was swampy and enveloped perpetually in a white mist, so dense that, for a further period of two days, I wandered over the marshes, not knowing the direction in which I was travelling, but trusting to the keen natural instinct with which men of my race are endowed. So dense was this mist hanging over the trackless, pestilential bog that I could distinguish nothing a leopard's leap distant, and my gandoura was as soaked with moisture as if I had waded a river. Judge my surprise, however, when suddenly I found that the vapours had veiled from my eager eyes another more inaccessible and still higher belt of mountain than the first. Darkness was already creeping on when I made this discovery, therefore I resolved to rest and sleep before attempting to climb the rugged heights before me. It was necessary, in order to discover the direction of the mysterious city, that I should climb above the belt of impenetrable mist and take bearings in the clear atmosphere. Fortunately I had found a banana-tree a few hours previously and carried some of its fruit with me, therefore I ate my fill, and afterwards threw myself down to snatch a few hours' slumber. How long I lay I know not, but I was startled by feeling a soft, clammy object steal slowly across my breast. It was as icy cold as the hand of a corpse. Opening my eyes quickly, I was dazzled by a brilliant light shining into them, but in an instant the bright flash disappeared and an unearthly and demoniac yell sounded about me. In the impenetrable darkness, caused by night and the dense mist combined, I could distinguish nothing, but, starting up, held my breath in alarm, listening to the echoing yells receding in the distance. They sounded like three loud shouts in the same strain, followed by a long, plaintive wail. At first I endeavoured to reassure myself that my breast had not been touched by the clammy snout of some wandering animal which had been startled by my sudden movement, but try how I would I could not convince myself that those yells proceeded from any but a human being. Again, as I felt my gandoura, I discovered that it had been unloosened with care, evidently for the purpose of closely examining the mark I bore upon my breast! The bright light, too, was an undeniable fact which pointed conclusively to the presence of human inhabitants of this mist-enveloped ravine. Sleep came no more to my eyes, for through the long, dreary night I kept a watchful vigil. Strange noises, as if of some one moving cautiously in my vicinity, sounded about me, but in which direction I could never detect with certainty, for both shadows and sounds became distorted by the thick vapours by which I was surrounded. Several times I heard the same mysterious, mournful cry, now close to me, and again sounding afar, as if in answer to the plaintive call. Scarcely daring to move, I patiently awaited the light of day, which came at last, spreading gradually at first, but soon causing the darkness around me to fall, and the white, choking vapours to become more dense and bewildering. There was the same strange, sulphurous odour that I had experienced when swimming the Lake of the Accursed, and I began to fear that the poisonous gases exuded from the swamps would cause asphyxiation. As soon, therefore, as the light grew strong enough to enable me to see where I placed my feet, I started forward to face the huge mountain. I had not taken three paces before my eyes, keeping careful watch upon the ground, detected something which caused me to involuntarily utter a cry of surprise. At my feet was lying a short, straight sword, in a scabbard of beautifully-chased gold, with a magnificently jewelled cross hilt. It was attached to a leather girdle, the buckle of which was thickly set with fine emeralds, and the bright condition of the scabbard, and the keen, unrusted appearance of the blued-steel blade told me that it had not remained there many hours. Then it occurred to me that the weapon was similar in design to the ancient one I had found in the Cavern of the Devourer, and that it must have been dropped by my mysterious visitant. It was plain that, after all, I was not the only human being in that mysterious Land of the No Return; equally certain, also, that my intrusion had been discovered. Was this the Land of the Myriad Mysteries, that region dreaded by my clansmen of the deserts from the Atlas to the Niger? Was this weird, misty gorge, devoid of herbage, and exuding a death-dealing breath, the actual entrance of the territory of all-consuming terror? I paused, examining the weapon curiously, wondering who might be its owner. Fearing, however, to remain there longer, I buckled the girdle about my waist, and aided by my staff, commenced the steep and toilsome ascent. An hour's hard climbing took me above the heavy vapours into the brilliant light of day, and I then discovered that the mountain I was negotiating was of greater altitude than any of the peaks of my native Atlas. At first the slopes were grass-covered, and mimosa bushes grew plentifully, but as I went higher there were only patches of stunted herbage, and higher still no herbage grew. As hour by hour I toiled upward, in places so steep that I had to use both hands and knees, I gradually neared the region of eternal snow. Soon after noon I halted, seating myself upon a rock to rest. Gloomy thoughts oppressed me. Below was nothing but a sea of vapour; above a sky brilliant, without a cloud. Being compelled to pass through that curious gorge of grey, eternal mist, I had lost my bearings entirely, and knew not in what direction I was now journeying. For the past two days I had been travelling through a shadowy and inhospitable region, wherein I had seen not a beast of the field nor fowl of the air. The action of the mysterious visitant puzzled me. If it were a man, as I supposed, why should the mark upon my breast have such attraction for him? In his hurried flight he had lost his sword, and apparently feared to return to seek it. The enigma puzzled me, occupying my thoughts during the whole of that fatiguing and perilous climb. Having rested for nearly an hour, my eye suddenly caught the notches upon my staff. I picked it up and carefully counted them. They were already fourteen. On this, the fifteenth day, I ought, if credence were to be placed in the rock tablet of Semiramis, to reach the mystic city of Ea. Eager to gain the summit and gaze upon the land beyond, I rose and once more plodded onward with dogged pertinacity. Upwards I strode, until the perspiration rolled in great beads from my brow, and my matted, unkempt hair became wet from the same cause. As I gained a kind of small plateau, covered deeply by untrodden snow, an icy blast chilled me to the marrow, causing me to wrap my rags closer about me; but heeding not fatigue, I sped rapidly over the small plain and commenced the final ascent to the lowest crest over which I could pass. This occupied me fully two hours, for the ascent was the most difficult I had yet encountered; but presently I found myself upon a stretch of comparatively level ground, with snow lying thickly everywhere, and the surface frozen so hard that my feet left no imprints. Beyond this plain was only the sky, therefore I knew that I had at last reached the highest point. In order to regain breath I was compelled to halt for a few seconds, but those moments were full of intense eagerness. What lay beyond I feared to ascertain. Whether I had travelled in the right direction I was unaware; but if I had, then it was time that I should reach the goal for which I had so long and so arduously striven. The iron of despair was entering my soul, but next second, shaking if off, I dashed forward at full speed to the edge of the lofty plateau, and gazed with wondering, wide-open eyes into the land beyond. The panorama below held me speechless in wonderment. Dumbfounded, I stood open-mouthed, rigid, rooted to the spot. CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. THE TORTURE-WHEEL. The scene which burst upon me was so unexpected and startling, that at first I found myself doubting my own senses, and was inclined to believe that it was merely a mirage, or some fantastic chimera of my own imagination. As I continued to gaze upon it, taking in all the details discernible from that distance, I was compelled to admit that the objects I saw existed in reality, and to congratulate myself that I was actually within sight of my longed-for goal. Behind me the sun was fast declining, but deep below, there stretched on either hand a broad river, winding far away into the distant, purple haze. At the foot of the giant mountain whereon I stood was a great stretch of grassland, across which ran a road paved like those the Franks construct in Algeria, and straight as a spear shaft, leading to a most wonderful and amazing city. Surrounded by stone walls of colossal size and enormous height, houses extended as far as the eye could reach, and even from where I stood I could detect that the thoroughfares, running at right angles to each other, were all broad and handsome. The architecture, as far as I could distinguish, was such as I had never before seen, and the houses, built upon a great hill rising abruptly from the plain, rose tier upon tier to the summit, which was crowned by an enormous palace with a roof of burnished gold, which glistened with blinding brightness in the brilliant rays of the declining sun. Close by, from the extreme summit of the hill, rose a square tower of such colossal proportions that it seemed to reach to such a height that the building, at its summit, was in the gathering clouds of evening. The highest portion of the tower was of silver, then, counting downwards, it was blue, then pale yellow, then bright gold, red, orange and black. Each of these stages, I knew, represented one of the chief heavenly bodies--the silver being that of the Moon, the blue Mercury, the yellow Astarte, the gold the Sun, the red Mars, the orange Jupiter, and the black Saturn. I had read long ago, in the records of Babylonia, of the similar temple-tower that Nebuchadnezzar built at Birs-i-Nimrud, and, glancing in other directions, saw similar edifices dotted everywhere. The great palace on the hill-top was so extensive that its buildings and gardens stretched away into the blue distance, and its walls and colonnades were, like everything within that wonderful place, so enormous in their proportions as to be amazing. Through the centre of the palace gardens ran a beautiful river, spanned by many bridges, and as it wound away, it branched out into another stream that meandered through the city. Upon the very summit of the hill, in close proximity to the temple tower, and within the impregnable walls of the palace, rose a pavilion, the walls of which appeared to be constructed entirely of gold. But it was not only there where the eye was dazzled. The hundred enormous gates in the strong walls that girt the city were of gold, and even as I looked I saw a cavalcade of horsemen crossing the plain, the sun's rays slanting upon the breastplates of polished gold, giving the well-drilled band the appearance of a broad, glittering thread. At each entrance to the city were high watch-towers whereon soldiers stood ever-watchful night and day, and the wonderful walls, that even Time could not throw down, were evidently used for promenading, for I could distinguish many objects, like tiny, black specks, moving over the broad thoroughfare formed thereon. On either side, as far as my keen vision could penetrate, nothing presented itself but a colossal and magnificent city of villas, palaces and temples, of pavilions of red and silver, of beautiful, shady gardens, and wonderful structures in tiers of various colour, of temple and tomb towers, of square, solidly-built, flat-roofed residences, of bridges of polished marble and alabaster, and wonderful brazen gates. The proportions of its buildings, even though I could only obtain but a bird's-eye view, were marvellous, the wideness of its thoroughfares astounding; its thousand towers and pinnacles beggared description; its extent so great as to cause me to stand aghast. This, then, must be the majestic city of Ea, the wonderful capital, founded by the beautiful but frail woman who had constructed it in imitation of Babylon. While the latter city had ages ago fallen to decay, and sunk forgotten beneath the earth's surface, this magnificent place, with its ostentatious display of wealth, even in its very gates, had remained through a hundred generations; the same amazing, impregnable citadel of the great queen's faithful followers; the same collection of palaces of bewildering luxury; the same time-defying stronghold of a warlike race, the same stupendous centre of incredible extent; the same unapproachable capital of an unapproachable land, as when Semiramis herself, surrounded by her lovers and courtiers, entered its brazen gates with pomp and splendour, amid the clash of cymbals, the beating of drums, and the flourish of trumpets. Her great temple, with its unequalled colonnade, which I had passed some days ago, had, for some reason unaccountable, been allowed to crumble and fall away, but here, in this marvellous city of a thousand wonders of imposing forms and harmonious outlines, the memory of one of the most notable of queens was perpetuated. And I was the first man from the outer world to gaze upon this one glorious and unique monument of a long-forgotten past! I stood leaning upon my staff, lost in astonishment, watching agape the incredible scene. Fascinated and stupefied by its magnificence, I contemplated it in bewilderment, while the afterglow, shedding a ruddy light upon its wonderful towers, caused the burnished gates and roofs to shine red as blood. Soon it died away, and when the sun sank in the mists behind me, a sudden gloom fell, and chill night crept rapidly on. As the stars appeared in the heavens, a million lights shone everywhere in the city, the broad streets of which seemed bright as day. Great sacrificial fires threw an uncertain light from the summits of some of the taller towers, and from the wonderful fabric on the summit of the hill one single light of intense whiteness shone brilliant as a star. An hour sped by, yet still I remained lost in astonishment. The myriad lights gave the strange city a curiously weird aspect, and I feared to meet any of its denizens. Were they, I wondered, of the same form as my fellows of the outer world, or were they veritable giants in stature, that they should build structures of such incredible proportions? Though I dreaded to meet them, yet I longed to be able to pass those ponderous brazen gates, to tread those wondrous streets, to enter those curiously graduated temple towers, and wander in those shady gardens beside the running waters. With my bejewelled sword and girdle strapped over my dirty, ragged gandoura, should I be enabled to pass those gates and enter the city forbidden to those outside the rock-girt boundary of this unknown kingdom? This question I asked myself a hundred times, compelled to doubt whether such attempt would not result in my arrest and perhaps execution as a spy. I had faced without fear the thousand perils of my journey from the City of the Mirage; but to encounter the guards of mighty, mystic Ea would, I knew, require all the courage of which I, as an adventurer, was possessed. When, however, the moon shone out, I began slowly to descend towards my goal. With exceeding difficulty I let myself down over those slippery, snow-covered rocks, treading ofttimes on perilous ledges, where a false step meant instant death on the crags beneath. Naught cared I of the risks I ran in descending so rashly, but, eager to set foot upon the plain, I stumbled on, now jumping, now crawling, until I gained a grass-grown slope where progress was not fraught by so many dangers. Suddenly I came to a rocky gorge, down which roared a broad, swift torrent, and, as it came into view, a scream of pain and despair broke upon my ear. The sound seemed suddenly smothered, then, a few moments later, echoed again. I listened, and found that it sounded with regularity above the roaring of the waters. Whence it proceeded was a mystery, but, as I followed the stream in my descent, I suddenly encountered a great chasm in the earth, before which was an enormous wooden wheel, revolved by the current which flowed beneath, and then disappeared to feed some subterranean river. As I watched it in the full moonlight, puzzled as to its use, the scream startled me again, and, at the same moment, I perceived something white upon the moss-grown wheel flash above for a moment, and then plunge beneath the water. Again it rose, and was again plunged in. A third time it rose, and my eyes, now on the alert, caught the form of a man, who, tightly bound to the wheel, was being every moment plunged into the icy stream. Then I knew that the wheel was used for one of the most horrible forms of torture and death. Alone, the wretched victim was slowly dying, dreading every moment to meet the water, and each time, as he rose in the air, awakening the echoes by his despairing cries for rescue. He passed me so closely that I could touch him with outstretched hand where I stood, but so swiftly that, although a dozen times I strove to cut his cords with my sword, I failed. The manner in which the wheel could be stopped I knew not, and was thus compelled to stand and see the poor wretch die before my eyes. Apparently he recognised that my efforts to release him had been unavailing, and swooned, his unconsciousness being quickly followed by suffocation. Even as I stood watching, I heard footsteps, and, slinking back in the shadow behind a great rock, saw approaching four tall men of fine physique, wearing shining breastplates, bearing between them the frail, inanimate form of a woman. They were followed by two other men, who, by screwing down a block of wood on the axle of the wheel, raised it above the raging torrent. With a few swift strokes of their swords, the men severed the bonds that held the body of the victim, and, as it fell with a splash into the whirling stream, it was speedily engulfed, and swept down the chasm into the bowels of the earth. The men, who spoke a tongue unknown to me, laughed roughly among themselves as it disappeared, and then, tearing from the woman her golden ornaments, they bound her upon the wheel. While doing so she recovered consciousness, and, recognising her impending fate, gave vent to a shrill, heart-rending scream. But her cruel captors merely jeered, and, having ascertained that she was secure, again lowered the wheel, which immediately began to revolve. For a few moments the soldiers watched the monotonous punishment, then, in response to a word from the one apparently in authority, descended the path and were lost to view. As soon as they were out of hearing I emerged from my hiding-place, and, acting as I had seen the men act, succeeded at length in raising the wheel, and, grasping the trembling form of the woman, severed her bonds and dragged her from her perilous position, afterwards lowering the terrible wheel and allowing it to again revolve. Taking her in my arms I bore her some little distance, and, after some effort, restored her to consciousness. Her hair, which fell to her knees, was like golden sheen, and her complexion as pale as those of the women of the Infidels who come to see the Desert at Biskra, or seek renewed health from the waters of Hamman R'hira. Indeed, the people of Ea all seemed white-skinned, for the brutal soldiers had in their faces no trace of negro origin. When the woman I had rescued opened her eyes there was a terrified look in them, but on finding that I was supporting her head and endeavouring to bring her round, she uttered some words. Not being able to understand her, I shook my head. Again she addressed me with like result. Then, sitting up, she suddenly asked me yet another question, but again I shook my head. Springing to her feet as if electrified, she gave me one look of abject fear and fled away among the bushes, screaming, leaving me standing in mute astonishment. Was it my ragged, unkempt appearance that had caused her such terror? She had apparently been seized with a sudden insanity; but whether the horrible torture of the wheel had unhinged her mind I knew not. Retracing my steps to the torture-wheel, I followed the path which the soldiers had taken, and in half-an-hour reached the plain. Then I hesitated, undecided whether to walk forward and inspect the walls and closed gates of the gigantic city, or wait until its brazen portals were opened at dawn. It occurred to me that, if detected by the watchmen, I should be seized as a spy, therefore I decided to snatch a brief rest and wait for morning. Finding a great tree at the foot of the mountain, I made a pillow of leaves and was soon dreaming of weird adventures and tortures applied by fiendish captors. I had evidently been more fatigued than I had imagined, for suddenly I found myself roughly handled by two soldiers of colossal stature, wearing curiously-fashioned robes, reaching nearly to the ground, and was surprised to discover the sun shining brilliantly. They addressed to me a question which I could not understand; then, next second I found myself surrounded by men with drawn swords as my arms were quickly pinioned by a dozen eager hands, then amid loud shouts of triumph I was dragged across the plain towards the brazen gate, to enter which had been my sole desire. My courage failed me. Had I not read on the tablet of Semiramis that no stranger was permitted to enter the Kingdom of Ea on penalty of death? It was plain that my fierce-bearded captors had discovered I was not of their world, and as they hurried me towards their mysterious stronghold I felt that, by my own recklessness in sleeping within an enemy's camp, I had sought my doom. CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. EA. As across the plain my captors hurried me, I was amazed at the strength of the colossal walls of the mysterious city. Approaching one of the great brazen gates, flanked on either side by gigantic, sculptured figures of human-headed monsters, I saw that the walls were fully two hundred feet in height, their base being constructed of huge blocks of a polished stone full of shells, and their upper portions of sun-dried brick, cased with great slabs of granite cemented with bitumen. They exceeded in thickness any I had previously seen; the ramparts, used as a promenade and drive, being fully eighty feet in breadth, and surmounted by hundreds of high watch-towers, each bearing a huge sculpture of an eagle-headed monster, apparently the national emblem. Even from beneath the shadow of these enormous, unbreakable walls the crowd standing thereon, watching our advance, looked small as a swarm of bees, and as we neared the open gate an excited, strangely-attired mob came forth to meet us, leaping, yelling and pressing round my captors, as if eager to obtain sight of me. All were of pale complexion. The men, tall and muscular, were dressed in flowing linen robes reaching to the feet, over which were garments of wool and short white, or crimson, cloaks with embroidered edges, while those who who were not soldiers each wore a cylindrical seal suspended from the neck, and in their hands bore staves, the head of each being carved with an apple, a rose, a lily, or an eagle. The women, mostly handsome but all dark-haired, were invariably attired in white, their bare, finely-moulded arms loaded with ornaments, and their waists girt by broad double girdles of leather or gold set with gems. Rich and poor alike had apparently turned out to view me. The men, many of them gilt-helmeted warriors, drew their swords and flourished them, yelling imprecations in their unknown tongue, while the women, some of whom were evidently the wives and daughters of wealthy citizens, hurled execrations upon me, and took up stones as if to fling at me. Mine was indeed a hostile reception. The people of this race I had so strangely discovered seemed notable for their extraordinary tallness and grace, their handsome, clear-cut features, and their artistic mode of dress. The wealth of the city must, I thought, be immense, for the women of the lowest class were plentifully adorned with gold ornaments and jewels, and the raven locks of the men of the upper classes were curled and perfumed, as if aping a fashionable effeminacy. Arrived at the gate, I was struck by its stupendous proportions. The great human-headed lions standing on either side of the entrance were fully a hundred feet in height, while the road itself between the two sculptured colossi consisted of a single slab of black stone, whereon was an inscription in the cuneiform character, the signs of which had been filled in with copper kept bright by the hurrying sandals of the inhabitants. As I passed through and entered the city, teeming with a civilisation forgotten by the world outside, I was enabled to judge better the great thickness of the impregnable fortifications which had, ages ago, been raised by blows of the lash. Of such gigantic proportions were they that I marvelled how they had ever been constructed. The moment we entered the city fifty trumpets blared forth in all directions, soldiers in helmets of gold and bronze, alarmed by the warning note, seized their arms and dashed to their posts, while behind us the great gate quickly closed, and guards scrambled to the walls and watch-towers in such numbers that they appeared like swarms of ants. Held secure by a dozen sinewy hands of armed warriors, and surrounded by a yelling populace, I was hurried forward along great thoroughfares of enormous houses, any of which would, in my own world, be termed a palace. All were great, square, solid structures of stone, constructed in three tiers, with broad terraces adorned with fine sculpture, and mostly painted in bright blues, reds and greens. One feature, however, struck me as curious; there were neither windows nor lattices. There were a few apertures, these being mostly closed by silken hangings or squares of talc. The great paved thoroughfares, through which handsome chariots, drawn by three horses abreast, passed and re-passed, were entirely different from any I had previously seen. A clamour had been raised. The people understood; consternation ensued; then an immense rage possessed them. Each residence was surrounded by a high wall, enclosing shady gardens full of great, ancient trees and cool, open-air baths, while from the terrace of nearly every house women, white-robed and anxious, gazed down upon me with evident curiosity, while their slaves beside them fanned or shielded them from the sun. The magnificence of the city was unequalled. There was an air of strength in every stone, and wealth in every residence. Armed warriors were everywhere; and as we proceeded, the crowd increased and the excitement rose to fever heat. Patricians left their palaces, tradesmen their shops, women abandoned their children. The report of my discovery and capture had apparently passed rapidly from mouth to mouth, and those responsible for the defence of the great city had alarmed the guard, and closed its hundred gates, fearing lest spies should enter or leave. As we passed through one handsome street after another, the multitude following, straining their necks to catch a glimpse of me, acted in a manner that aroused my curiosity. The girls and women, after gazing into my face, turned westward to where, high upon the hilltop, the huge, handsome tower, painted in many colours, loomed against the bright sky, and raising their right hands towards it, they placed their left upon their heads, crying aloud some strange, cabalistic words. Their actions puzzled me, but subsequently I ascertained that the tower towards which they turned was the temple of Astarte, and that they invoked upon me the curse of the goddess, to whom they were by law each compelled to make sacrifice once in their lives. The men also lifted their hands to the temple of Rimmon, the Air-god and Destroyer, the tower of which rose on the opposite side of the great city, and from their thousand brazen throats cried maledictions upon me, and called forth the most terrible vengeance of their gods. Many rushed towards me with uplifted staves, and even the soldiers themselves shook their naked blades at me threateningly, but any such hostile demonstration was promptly suppressed by my escort pressing closely around me, guarding me from the irate mob, yet, at the same time, looking upon me with suspicious dread. With closed gates the city was agog, the guards watchful, the excited populace on their housetops and terraces, wringing their hands in sheer desperation, straining their eyes to catch sight of my ragged, unkempt form; while the surging, turbulent crowd about me went mad with rage. What treatment I was about to receive at the hands of my captors I dreaded to contemplate, but remembering the ominous words engraven on the tablet of Semiramis I felt that the penalty for being found in the precincts of that forbidden region was death; for was I not in the Land of the No Return? Yet, ignorant of this strange tongue, I could neither appeal for clemency nor make explanation; therefore, forced to keep the seal of silence upon my lips, I took in every detail of the extraordinary scene, the magnificence and architectural wonders of the city, and the dress and habits of this newly-discovered race. At a distance of about half a league from the gate whereat we had entered we passed through a second brazen portal of equal dimensions to the first, guarded, as before, by a colossal winged monster in black stone on either side. The single slab placed between the two figures was, in the same manner as that at the outer gate, inscribed with many lines of half-obliterated arrowheads, but above, suspended from a great chain stretched between the stone monsters, was a large figure of the human-headed lion in burnished copper. Here again the walls, fully a hundred feet in height, were of enormous thickness, and as we entered the great paved court the ponderous gates were closed in face of the howling, execrating mob. Warriors of Ea in their bright helmets and shining breastplates, bearing glittering spears, swarmed everywhere, and as I was hurried across the open court they pressed around, as eager to view me as if I were, of some unknown species. A magnificent war-chariot, the sides of which were of beaten gold, with quivers full of arrows hanging in readiness in the front, was standing. The four splendid white horses harnessed to it champed their bits and pawed the ground ready to start, and the driver, with shield and spear in hand, held the reins, prepared to step in and drive on through the opposite gate at any instant. The man craned his neck as I passed, but my face was more eagerly scanned by a richly-dressed woman in gold-embroidered robes who stood beside him. The look of abject terror in her eyes caused me to give her a second glance, and next instant I recollected her features. It was the woman who had been placed upon the torture-wheel, and whose bonds I had severed. Who was she? What was she? I wondered. Our eyes met, and she started. The colour left her face when she saw I had recognised her. Then turning from me in the direction of the temple of Astarte, she raised her long, white arm, and with her hair falling to her waist, gave utterance to that unknown invocation that fell from each woman's lips. A moment later I lost sight of her, being conducted up a gradual incline and through many gates, strongly guarded by soldiers, whose arms flashed and gleamed in the brilliant sunlight. The blare of brazen horns and the clash of cymbals echoed everywhere among the great windowless buildings ranged around the courtyard, until suddenly we came to yet another gate, which was closed. Thrice a trumpeter blew long, deep blasts, and when at length it opened there was revealed, standing alone, an aged priest, whose snow-white beard swept to his waist. Attired in white robes of gold-embroidered silk, with a strange headdress of gold, fashioned to represent the sun, he uttered some unintelligible words in a deep voice, slowly raising his arms as if in supplication to heaven. As he did so a dead silence fell upon my captors, who, impressed by his presence, halted and bent their heads, mumbling strangely. For a few minutes the old priest remained calm and statuesque, then, with a few final words, he walked slowly aside and was lost to view, while we continued our way across a court where the exteriors of the buildings were beautifully sculptured, and where there were many shady trees and sweet-smelling flowers. These people were a nation of Infidels, who knew nothing of Allah, or his Prophet, and who bowed before images of wood and stone. They had faith in the sun, moon and stars, and consulted them. When good or evil befell them, they ascribed it to their celestial gods being favourable or unfavourable. The worship of these gods was directed by the priests, who were guided in their turn by soothsayers and magicians. Half-way across this open space, however, my captors pulled up before a wide door, guarded by two recumbent figures of winged monsters similar to those at the outer gates, and entering a long, dark, stone corridor, the walls of which were formed of strange bas-reliefs, they led me at last down a flight of steps to a spacious, dimly-lit apartment with walls, roof and floor of stone. When they had left me, and their receding footsteps and strangely-hushed voices had died away, I started to examine the cell. It was a large place, air being admitted by a door of strong iron bars that led into a kind of paved and covered patio. Towards the door I strode, and with my face against the bars was peering out into the gloomy place beyond, when suddenly a deep roar, that made the very walls shake, startled me, causing me to draw back. I did so only just in time, for at the same moment a great, shaggy body hurled itself against the bars, bending them, causing them to rattle, and for an instant shutting out the faint glimmer of grey light. Then, as it fell back, gnashing its teeth, lashing its tail and roaring with rage at having lost its prey, I saw, to my horror, that it was a great lion, a veritable king of the forest. With its snout against the bars it stood, rolling its eyes, lashing its tail from side to side and glaring at me, while I shrank back trembling, for I now knew the intention of my captors was to cast me to the lions to be torn limb from limb. What I had at first imagined to be a courtyard or patio was, in reality, part of the lion-pit, above which were ranged many tiers of seats for spectators who came on holidays to witness the helpless victims being devoured by the beasts. The cell in which I was confined was where captives were kept in readiness for the entertainments, for on examination I found that the iron door could be raised from above, the beasts being thus admitted to my cell without the gaoler running the risk of entering to admit the animals. Many inscriptions were rudely scratched upon the walls; but although I endeavoured to decipher some of them, the only signs I could, in that dim light, distinguish were, "_Li-ru-ru-su lu-bal-lu_." These oft-repeated Assyrian words, scratched and engraven by many hands, meant, "May the gods curse her, may they devour her!" Slowly the hours crept on, but the fierce animal, crouching at the door of my cell, held himself in readiness to pounce upon me if I should emerge. He never took his fiery eyes from me. My every movement he watched, silent and cat-like, scarcely moving for an hour together. I knew that sooner or later I should be torn asunder by those cruel teeth the beast displayed as he yawned widely in contemplation of appeasing his hunger, and upon me there fell a settled despair. Alone and helpless I paced the stones, worn smooth and bright by the nervous tramp of thousands of previous victims, longing for the end. Death was preferable to that terrible, breathless suspense. Presently, when I had been there fully three hours, I heard the sounds of reed instruments, clashing cymbals and rolling drums outside, followed by the hum of human voices, at first low and distant, but, as another hour wore on, increasing in volume. Shouts and light laughter reached me, and, by the excited manner the dozen lions paced and repaced before my cell, I felt instinctively that the great amphitheatre was now filled with eager spectators. Each moment seemed an hour. Awaiting my doom, I stood with my back against the heavy-bolted door by which I had entered, with bated breath, striving to meet my end with fortitude. Hoping against hope, my strained eyes were watching the iron bars that separated me from the hungry beasts, dreading each moment that they would be lifted. Suddenly, as I stood thinking of Azala, wondering how she had fared, and whether Tiamo had yet reached Kano with news of my death, one of the shaggy beasts sprang past my bars, and next second a dull roar of applause and the loud clapping of hands broke upon my ear. A dead silence was again followed by the wild plaudits of the multitude. Again and again this was repeated; then there seemed a long wait. Apparently I was considered a valuable prize, and it was probable that my turn was next. At that moment one of the lions slunk past my cell to his lair, his tail trailing on the ground and bearing between his teeth some object. There crept over me a strange faintness such as I had never before experienced. Yet I strove against it, supporting myself against the wall, and knowing that my fate could not be much longer delayed. Those moments were full of breathless horror. From where I stood I could hear the animals crunching bones between their teeth. They were preparing themselves for another victim. My blood froze in my veins. The fatal moment at last came. A loud, grating noise sounded in the roof of the cell, and slowly the iron bars were lifted bodily, removing the barrier between myself and death. I stood paralysed by fear. Another moment and I should cease to live! Yet in that brief instant a flood of memories surged though my turbulent brain, and the thought of my terrible doom was rendered the more acute because I had actually succeeded in gaining the Land of the No Return when all others had failed. But before me was only a death most terrible, and I had no means by which to defend myself. One of the beasts, slinking slowly across the pavement some distance away, espied me. Turning, he sniffed quickly, crouched, and with an exultant bound sprang towards me. In that instant, however, by what means I know not, the iron gate fell with a metallic clang into its place, and the animal, thus frustrated, crashed against the bars and tumbled back with a terrible roar of rage. It was a hairbreadth escape. For a moment I was saved. Seconds, full of breathless suspense, passed. Horror-stricken, my eyes were fixed upon those iron bars, fearing lest they should rise again, but it seemed that by design, and not by accident, the gate had fallen. Time after time the shouts of the assembled multitude rent the hot air as the prowling beasts pounced upon the captives. Still the iron bars of my cell rose not again, and at last, when the animals had slunk into their lairs to sleep, and the spectators had departed, I cast myself into a corner of my cell to rest and think. Darkness crept on apace; the quiet was broken only by the low, uneasy roar of the lions, and at length a single streak of bright moonlight fell across the paved court outside. In order to occupy my thoughts, I tried to decipher some of the engraven inscriptions by feeling them with my finger-tips. This, however, was not successful, because the unfortunate wretches confined there had possessed no proper tools with which to chip the stone. At length, however, footsteps resounded outside, the bolts of the heavy door grated in their sockets, and as I started up, four soldiers, two of whom bore lighted flambeaux, entered, ordering me, by signs, to accompany them. Eager to escape from the lion-pit! Waited not for a second invitation, but hurried with them away up the steps, along the echoing corridor and out into the moonlit court. All four grinned sardonically at the eagerness with which I left the dreaded cell, but directing my footsteps across two magnificent courts, we came to a great open space, in the centre of which rose the enormous temple-tower of Astarte, before the entrance of which a fire-altar burned. The high tower, which I had seen from afar, was, I found, erected in seven square stages, each smaller than the other and coloured differently, rising to such an enormous height that its summit seemed almost beyond human gaze. The base was of stupendous dimensions, and as we skirted it two clean-shaven eunuchs, in flowing robes of bright crimson, guarded its alabaster portals, while others stood beside the fire-altar, silent and motionless. Over the great entrance to this temple of the Seven Lights, approached by a broad flight of marble steps, was an enormous representation of the circle, in which was the winged figure of a man in the act of discharging an arrow, but having the tail of a bird. This symbol, denoting time without bounds, or eternity, the image with its wings and tail of a dove showing the association of Astarte, was the sacred emblem of Baal, and I therefore knew that this magnificent and wonderful temple was devoted to the supreme deity Belus, the altar of which stood ever-ready for the sacrifice. Women, in soft, clinging robes of white and gold, flitted in and out like shadows, while others wandered in pairs under the great trees, chatting, laughing and enjoying the cool, bright night. Presently we came to yet another huge gateway, consisting of two colossal female figures carved from the solid rock, rising to a terrific height, and bearing upon their heads the enormous block of stone forming the top of the imposing entrance. The stupendous proportions of the gate amazed me, but facing us, as we passed through, was a wonderful structure, more extensive and more imposing than I had ever seen, rising high above us and approached by a flight of a thousand stone steps of great width. Upon each step stood two spearmen, one on either side, so that the approach to the magnificent entrance to the royal palace was guarded day and night by no fewer than two thousand armed men, standing there, veritable giants, mute, silent, and ever watchful. The scene was weird and imposing. As we stood at the foot of the steps we gazed up between the files of warriors armed with shining steel. Above, on either side of the giant portal, great fires leaped from enormous braziers, the red flames illuminating, with a lurid brilliancy, the wonderful, massive sculptured facade, and shedding a fitful glow upon the lines of statuesque warriors. Having passed through the gateway, we started to ascend the steps, but ere we set foot on the first, our passage was barred by two thousand glittering spears meeting one another with a ringing clash, and presenting an impassable barrier of steel. Our progress thus arrested, we halted, and at the same time one of my conductors shouted some strange words, producing from the leathern pouch suspended at his side a small hollow cylinder of grey baked clay, which he held above his head. In a moment two stalwart men, evidently officers, wearing breastplates of beaten gold, advanced and eagerly scrutinised the cylinder. Having carefully read some words thereon inscribed, they examined the impression of the seal. Both men having satisfied themselves that our credential was genuine, regarded me with mixed curiosity and awe, then shouted an order which caused the long lines of guards to withdraw their spears with a clash at the same moment, almost as if they were one man. The great steps were high and steep, and the ascent long and tedious. Once or twice we halted to regain breath, then panting on again, climbed higher and yet higher towards the most gigantic and wonderful palace in the world. Half-way up I turned, and saw the immense city of Ea, full of bright lights and gaiety, lying deep below, while beyond was a background of towering, snow-capped mountains, looking almost fairylike under the brilliant moon. So extraordinary was the scene, and of such colossal proportions was the palace, that I felt inclined to doubt my own eyes; yet it was no dream. I was actually in Ea, approaching a structure, the mere, fantastically-sculptured facade of which was of such height and magnitude that, even though my eyes were dazzled, I marvelled at the many slaves who had doubtless been engaged in its construction. At last, gaping and bewildered, I stood upon the great paved area before the gigantic entrance, on either side of which were colossal winged bulls sculptured from white alabaster. Ere we were allowed to proceed we were compelled to again exhibit the strange clay cylinder, and then were permitted to pass between the enormous bulls, finding ourselves in a vast hall lit by flaming braziers. Upon the alabaster walls were the sculptured records of the empire. Battles, sieges, triumphs, the exploits of the chase, the ceremonies of religion were there portrayed, delicately sculptured and painted in bright colours. Beneath each picture was engraved, in characters filled up with bright copper, inscriptions describing the scene represented. Above these sculptures were painted other events--monarchs, attended by eunuchs and warriors, receiving their prisoners, entering into alliances with other monarchs, or performing some sacred duty. The emblematic tree, similar to the one I had discovered upon the tablet of Semiramis, winged bulls and monstrous, eagle-headed animals were conspicuous among the ornaments of the coloured borders enclosing these strange wall-pictures. At the upper end of the hall was a colossal statue of a queen, evidently Semiramis herself, in adoration before the supreme deity, her robes being adorned by lines of arrowheads, groups of figures, animals and flowers, all painted in brilliant hues, a group of white-robed women praying before her. Several doorways, formed by gigantic winged horses and lions, or human-headed monsters, led into other apartments, in each of which were more sculptures, while the alabaster slabs upon which we trod each bore an inscription recording the titles, genealogy and achievements of some monarch of past ages. It was indeed an entrance of amazing magnificence, with ceiling of massive beams of dull gold, but mere stupendous still were the many vast apartments through which I was ushered. Elegant women of the court, unveiled, reclining on couches, and attended by slaves who slowly fanned them, gazed at us languidly as we passed, and from some of the great chambers there came sounds of stringed instruments and cymbals where women were revelling and dancing. At each door were stationed four warriors, wearing breastplates of gold, and standing motionless, with drawn blades, while above the entrances the brazen sign of the deity was invariably suspended by a chain. The palace was bewildering in magnificence, amazing in extent. At last, turning suddenly to the right, we entered a small chamber crowded by courtiers, soldiers and slaves, who, however, spoke only in hushed tones. Here our appearance caused the utmost consternation, and the men drew back, as if fearing that my touch might contaminate them. Two courtiers, however, emerged from the crowd, and, having held a conversation with my guides in an undertone, they produced under-robes of linen, a rich outer garment of green silk, and sandals such as they themselves wore. By signs they commanded me to assume them, and when I had discarded my old, dirty and tattered gandoura, and attired myself in their strange dress, I paused, wondering what strange adventure would next befall me. Great curtains of yellow silk, upon which hideous monsters had been embroidered, hid the opposite entrance, which was guarded by a body of twelve armed men, whom I knew to be eunuchs by their clean-shaven faces and curious, golden head-dresses. Suddenly four trumpeters--two stationed on either side--raised their enormous horns of gold, and with one accord blew three ear-piercing blasts, at sound of which all present bowed low in the direction of the curtains, an example which my guides motioned me to follow. As we did so the great silken hangings slowly parted, revealing a scene so unexpected and dazzling that I stood agape in stupefaction. It was marvellous, incredible, astounding; its brilliancy caused my bewildered eyes to blind; its striking splendour filled me with amazement. I stood lost in wonder; held in fascination. CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. ISTAR. The great apartment was very lofty. Innumerable openings pierced its vaulted ceiling, through which the bright stars were visible. Upon the walls of alabaster, half hidden by rich hangings of purple silk, were portrayed winged priests or presiding deities standing before the sacred trees, armed men and eunuchs following their queen, warriors laden with spoil, leading prisoners, or bearing presents and offerings to their gods. The pavement, highly polished, was encrusted with gold, mother-of-pearl and glass; the ceiling was of ivory, and in the knots of the gilded beams were set great turquoises and shining amethysts. At every step in this wonderful temple and palace combined, an increasing immensity had surrounded me, and now, as the veil was withdrawn, revealing this most gorgeous and luxurious apartment, I knew not how to act. An incertitude intimidated me. With body still bent, like those of the crowd of courtiers and eunuchs among whom I stood, I nevertheless raised my eyes. Beyond the pearl and golden pavement before me rose twelve semi-circular steps of silver, leading up to a great throne of glittering crystal, which, in the bright white light shining upon it from four apertures in the ceiling, gleamed with an iridescent fire. Upon this couch, the supports of which were four winged bulls, fashioned from solid blocks of flawless crystal, the back consisting of an enormous crystal representation of the winged figure in the circle, the supreme deity, and adorned with the heads and feet of the lion and the ram, a lion's skin was spread. Reclining upon it in graceful abandon, the rings of her wavy hair tumbled about her in such abundance that she appeared actually to lie on a mass of golden sheen, was a woman of exquisite beauty. Attired in a loose, white robe, sparkling with diamonds from neck to foot, her waist girt by a wide girdle of wonderful emeralds, her bare neck, arms and ankles loaded with magnificent jewels, the effect under the bright rays was absolutely dazzling. The crystal throne shed all colours of the spectrum, but its bejewelled occupant at every movement seemed to flash and gleam with a thousand fires. She was of amazing beauty, with white, delicately-moulded limbs, tiny hands and feet, eyes half-closed, and as her dimpled chin rested upon her bejewelled arm her clinging robe indistinctly defined the graceful outlines of her form, and her breasts rose and fell slowly as she breathed. Two gorgeously-attired priests, on either side of the great crystal throne, stood with crossed hands, silent as statues. In strange, high head-dresses, surmounted by silver stars, and attired in robes of silver, they gazed down upon us without moving a muscle. Near the throne, three gigantic negro slaves in leopard-skins, cooled the reclining beauty with great fans of flamingoes' wings, while, grouped around, ready at any moment to execute their mistress's slightest wish, stood a hundred waiting-women, eunuchs and slaves. The vapours of exquisite perfumes floated everywhere. As we halted, with bent heads, before the wonderful throne, its occupant slowly stretched her white arm beyond her head, and, opening her eyes, her gaze fell upon us. Two female attendants immediately advanced and encased her tiny, bare feet in slippers of serpent skin. When they had returned to their places she slowly raised herself upon her elbow, and, with her chin upon her palm, raised her right hand, pointing upward. Instantly there appeared, high upon the wall above the crystal throne, where the signs of the deity were sculptured, in letters of fire the height of a man, an inscription in the cuneiform character. As it appeared, priests, eunuchs, slaves and attendants surrounding her sank upon their knees, and, in awed silence, pressed their brows to the pavement. Lifting my bewildered eyes to the fiery lines, I gazed beyond the wondrous medley of inshot colours and precious stones, and read,-- "_I am Istar, Supreme on Earth and in Heaven, Ruler of the Present and the Hereafter, who holdeth the lives of all men in the hollow of my hand. Every man is my slave: every woman shall sacrifice unto me in the House of Lustre. Those who break my commandments Anu and Rimmon, the gods great, shall destroy and devour. Thus I speak_." Thrice the Queen of Ea raised her slim hand, and thrice the lines of enormous arrowheads glowed red and fiery like living coals, each time disappearing and leaving no trace upon the wall. The silence was complete, broken only by the crackling of the herbs as they burned in the great, golden perfuming-pans, but, as the letters of fire died away for the last time, the beautiful woman, with tranquil eyes, slowly placed her foot upon the bare backs of the two women who were lying upon their faces, forming a footstool before the throne, and, with languorous grace, rose and stood upon their prostrate bodies. Then, outstretching her arms, she stood gazing upon us, as if giving us her blessing, and next second my companions, raising themselves, shouted with one voice, "_Istar sa-la-dhu yusapri. I la-tu nahdu nemicu banat sini makhri naku ci nasu-sa-eni_!" These words, in the ancient language of Babylon, I was able to understand. Outside the palace a corrupted tongue was spoken, but here, before the Queen, worshipped as goddess, only the original tongue was heard. The words uttered by my companions were,-- "Lo! Istar, the Ruler, is revealed! Thou art the glorious Lady of Wisdom, beauteous daughter of the Moon-god, Sin. Before thee our wives and our daughters make sacrifice, and to thee we, thy suppliant slaves, raise our eyes. Thou art our deity!" As their echoing voices died away, the Queen, fanned by her sphinx-like attendants, slowly re-seated herself upon the crystal throne. A languid expression settled upon her features, and, with her foot upon the neck of one of the women before her, she lounged, one hand thrown carelessly over the crystal, human-headed monster that formed the arm of the gorgeous seat of royalty, and the other toying with the emeralds in her girdle. From the crowd surrounding me, there stepped forward upon the pavement of pearl and gold, a tall, white-bearded man in a breastplate of green serpent skin, denoting that he was a high-priest, on either side of him standing a trumpeter. Thrice their loud blasts awakened the echoes of the chambers around, then Istar, casting an inquiring glance towards the man, commanded him to speak. He hesitated, his trembling hand resting upon the bejewelled hilt of his sword, and the little gold bells, sewn at the hem of his robe, tinkling musically. "Speak! O Rab-bani, son of Nabu-ahe-iddina. Why demandest thou an audience in this my dwelling-place? Why goest thou not unto the temple to make sacrifice before the golden image?" "Let not anger consume thee, O Queen of All the Gods," cried Rab-bani, lifting his hand in supplication, and falling upon his knees. "We have ventured into this Everlasting House, passed the Gate of Glory, and entered into the House of the Raising of the Head, because there is one evil-doer among us, with whom thou alone in thy majesty and power canst deal." A smile crossed the face of the living goddess, and at the same moment a tame lioness, walking past the silent priests of Istar, halted before its royal mistress, who, with her soft hand, patted its sleek back, as a woman caresses a spaniel. "I am in no mood to decide what punishment shall be meted out to evil-doers. I leave that to my judges," she answered, with a quick gesture of impatience. "Lend us thine ear, O Queen, whose name we dare not utter beyond these walls, whose tongue is unknown, save to thy priests, eunuchs and courtiers, and to whom every woman maketh sacrifice. Cast us not forth from thy presence, for assuredly thy slaves are faithful and bear the information which, though it be of amazing character, yet, nevertheless, the truth must be told, and that quickly." "Then utter it, and be gone," Istar said, glancing at him sharply. "Know then, O Queen of Earth and Heaven, O Peerless among Women, the dreaded day hath dawned! The Great Destroyer is in our midst!" Istar, pale and startled, sprang to her feet, clutching her jewel-laden breasts frantically, as if to stay the beating of her heart. "The Devourer!" she gasped, white to the lips. "Speak! I command thee! Speak quickly, son of Nabu-ahe-iddina, or thou shalt be cast for ever into the realm of Niffer, lord of the Ghost Land." "I speak, O Mighty One," he answered. "Would that my tongue had been torn from its roots, and my lips sealed by the seal of the Death-god, ere it should have been my duty to make this my announcement. The Devourer from the outer world hath been discovered wandering upon the mountains. How he gained this land, which is without entrance and without exit, no man knoweth. The wise men believe that he came hither like a fowl of the air." Istar, trembling, clutched the glittering arm of her crystal throne for support, while a dark, sinister expression settled upon her flawless countenance. The crowd about me, awestricken and hushed in expectation, awaited her words breathlessly. "Lo!" cried the high priest of the Temple of the Seven Lights, suddenly stepping back and dragging me roughly forward, "Lo! O Beauteous Queen of all the Gods, he is here, in thine holy presence!" I lifted my face. Our eager eyes met. Her tiny hands were so tightly clenched that the nails were driven into her palms, her breasts heaved and fell quickly, her brows knit in a fierce anger, but in her eyes was a look of unutterable dread. For a moment she covered her face with her hands, as if to shut me out of her gaze, but next instant she raised her narrow eyebrows, her blanched lips parted, and she turned upon the high-priest in a sudden outburst of fury. Extending her bare arm towards him she cursed him. "Knowest thou not the writing upon my foundation-stones, offspring of Anu, defiler of the holy Ziggurratu?" she screamed in rage. The aged high-priest uttered a cry, as if he had been struck a blow. But he answered not. "Knowest thou the words graven upon the great image? Speak, accursed one. Speak!" "I do, O Queen," he faltered. "Then, malediction upon thee. Vengeance and hate, sorrow and torture of the flesh. May the Air-god rend thee; may Shamas, the lord of Light, hide his face from thee for ever; and may Niffer, lord of the Ghost Land, take thee for his slave! May Ninkigat, the lady of the great Land of Terrors, strangle thee, and may the other--whom I dare not name--fill thy vitals with molten metal and consume thee!" "Mercy!" cried the wretched man, falling upon his knees, and grovelling upon the polished pavement. "Mercy, O Istar, Queen of Ea, and ruler of all creatures! Have mercy upon thy servant!" "Nay, unto me thou hast shown no mercy, accursed spawn of a scorpion; thou shalt receive none," she answered. Then, lifting her hand towards the file of soldiers that lined the walls, she commanded,-- "Abla, Nabu-nur-ili, Akabi-ilu, forward quickly, ye guards of our majesty. Take this son of Nergal forth to the top of the steps and cast him down with force like a dog, so that his bones be broken and his body mutilated. Then, with his blood, let the words graven upon the image be re-written on the lintel of the Temple of the Seven Lights, so that all may remember. Away with him. Let his body be cast into the lion-pit," she added, with a majestic sweep of her white arm. "I have spoken." "Have compassion, O Istar! At least, let me live!" cried the aged priest; but ere he could utter the last sentence the soldiers had dragged him forth, with the dreaded Queen's imprecation resounding in his ears in multiplied echoes. In the full fury of her ungovernable rage this beautiful goddess of the Mysterious Land, at first so graceful and languorous, looked magnificent. With her unbound hair falling about her shoulders and reaching below her girdle, she raised her arms in mad rage, pouring forth a string of curses so terrible that those surrounding her visibly shuddered. "And thou!" she cried, suddenly turning and gazing intently upon me with eyes sharp as arrows. "So thou art the stranger!" The people around me were full of passionate anger and abject terror. Behind, before me, everywhere, I saw only glaring eyes, strained wide open as if to devour me, defiant faces, eager hands fingering sword-hilts, and heard the gnashing of teeth between threatening lips. "So thou hast dared to accompany that viper Rabbani, and enter my presence!" she cried, in a second outburst of indignation. Her strange terror had been succeeded by rage and defiance terrible to behold. The veins in her brow stood out like blue cords as she spoke, and her soft, perfumed cheeks were suffused by anger. "I was brought before thee by thy people, O Queen," I answered, endeavouring to appease her. "I knew not thine high-priest, ere I entered thine House of Lustre." "I have spoken; and he shall die," she snapped, apparently thinking I was making an appeal on the aged man's behalf. "Ascend to me, so that I may see thee more closely." Thus commanded, I crossed the inlaid pavement and ascended the broad, silver steps leading to the great throne of crystal, before which she now stood upon her prostrate women, erect and queenly. Gaining the pavement of gold whereon the throne was set, I was drawing nearer, when two great eunuchs sprang forward, motioning me not to approach her further. "Arrest thy steps," they cried, frantically. "The person of Istar, our ruler, is sacred. None but dwellers within this, her temple, may look upon her." "Retire," she cried to the eunuchs. "I commanded him to approach me." The men slunk back to their places in chagrin, and as they did so I advanced yet another couple of paces, and dropped upon one knee before her. Her beauty was amazing. The sweet perfumes that exuded from her ample draperies filled my nostrils. "Whence comest thou?" she asked me in calm, serious voice, gazing upon me with her huge, wonderful eyes. "From the world that lieth beyond the impregnable limits of thy kingdom, O Queen," I answered. "Who art thou, that thou shouldst speak our sacred tongue?" she inquired quickly, in surprise. "I am but a wanderer," I replied. "The language of ancient Assyria hath been recovered by our wise men from the monuments of Nimroud and of Babylon." Her surprise found echo in the murmurings of the eager, excited crowd; but a moment later she asked,-- "How camest thou hither?" "By an entrance which I followed. It led me through the Valley of Mists, until I came hither unto this thy city." "An entrance!" she cried, in alarm. "Then thou earnest not as a bird of the air!" I replied in the negative, and was about to explain the extraordinary manner by which I had gained access to the mysterious Land of the No Return, when she turned upon me with clenched hands, in a paroxysm of rage so sudden that I was startled. "Then thou art actually a pagan from the unknown land beyond," she cried, trembling with anger. "Be thou accursed! accursed! accursed! May the celestial triad cut thee off, and may Rimmon tear and devour thee!" A murmur of approbation went round those assembled, and at the mention of the dreaded god all bowed, while the priests in their horned caps raised their arms and lifted their deep voices in adulation. Speechless, I stood before her while she poured out upon me the vials of her uncurbed wrath. I trembled, fearing lest she should condemn me to a similar doom to which the aged high-priest had been hurried for what appeared to be a petty offence. In her anger she stamped her tiny foot upon the neck of one of the prostrate women, causing her to writhe. But the half-nude pair acting as her footstool uttered no cry. They were worshipping the goddess and sacrificing themselves to her. "Thou accursed son of the Unknown!" she cried, addressing me. "Thou hast dared to enter this my forbidden land, therefore thou art my captive, my slave, my servant!" She had folded her arms with an air so terrible that I was immediately as one rooted to the golden pavement. "Kill him, O Istar!" the people cried. "Suffer not his baneful presence to contaminate us! Suffer not his unclean hand to touch the hem of thy sacred robe! Kill him! Let us witness the lions tearing him!" At the raising of her white, bejewelled hand there was complete silence. She looked at me, crushing me with her haughty beauty. "He came hither," she said, addressing her courtiers and slaves, "in order to feast his eyes upon what is forbidden, to discover that which for a hundred generations hath been hidden from the pagans of the other world. He therefore shall, ere his soul is given unto Rimmon, witness that which he desireth. He is my captive. My name shall gnaw him like remorse. I will be to him more execrable than the pest, and he shall feel every moment, until the day he is cast into the lion-pit, the chastisement of a goddess." Ghastly, and with hands clenched, I quivered like a stringed instrument when the over-tense strings are about to snap. Words choked me, and I bowed my head before her. "My slave thou art," she cried, turning suddenly upon me. "Thou shalt ever grovel in the dust before me; thou shalt take the place of those women who have prostrated themselves before me, and are from this time forth absolved. In future thou shalt be as my footstool. Neither by night nor day shalt thou leave my presence. In my waking hours my heel shall be upon thy neck; in my hours of slumber thou shalt still be wakeful. Whithersoever I go there also shalt thou go, placing thyself as rest for my feet, and thus be ever in my sight. If thou attemptest to fly, I will draw the bears from the mountains, and the lions shall hunt thee, even unto the ends of the earth." Stepping from the women, upon whose quivering bodies she had been standing, she commanded them to rise, and at signal from her the eunuchs tore from my shoulders the robe in which I had been attired. Then, although struggling vainly in their iron grip, I was cast, face downwards, upon the pavement before the throne, and a moment later the mysterious Queen of Ea stood with her feet upon my back. Her weight crushed my breast, causing my breathing to become difficult; but, applauded by her subjects, she remained in that position addressing them, cursing me for daring to enter her kingdom, and assuring them that ere long they should be entertained by my death beneath the claws of the lions. "I heed not the graven lines upon the foundation-stone," she exclaimed, in conclusion. "Three hundred thousand soldiers are ready day and night to do my bidding, and if men fail me, I will call down the wrath of the gods most terrible. I will overthrow this my city and burn its temples. Not a single tower, nor tree, nor wall shall remain, and the galleys shall float on streams of blood. I fear not this slave beneath my heel. I would kill him now, with this my poniard; but ere he dies he shall feel the chastisement of Istar. I am thy ruler, and his punishment is in my hands." "Wisely hast thou spoken, O Goddess, whom we worship with one accord, and to whom we sacrifice those of thy sex. Thou art indeed our just ruler, at whose word mountains tremble and rivers stand still. Thine armed men shall ever be faithful unto thee, and beneath thine heel we leave the wanderer from the Unknown." "Then go; let the veil fall," she answered. "In my temple, before the graven lines upon my foundation-stone, let full thanksgiving be offered at moonset for our discovery of this wanderer, who is safe in our hands, and thus prevented from escaping back unto his own execrable, accursed race." "We obey thee, O mighty Istar!" rose from the throats of the assembled multitude as, with one accord, they moved back towards the ante-chamber, still keeping their faces towards the beautiful woman they worshipped. Confusion spread for a few minutes, but at last all retired, save those grouped around the throne, and the great yellow curtain fell, leaving the brilliant Queen in ease and semi-privacy. Wearied, she threw herself upon her great crystal lounge, lying gracefully back, with the toes of one bare foot just touching me, while her women crowded about and attended her at her elaborate toilet. CHAPTER THIRTY NINE. FORETOKENS. Istar's white-robed women brushed out her hair, which fell about her like a cascade of rippling gold, bathed her face in a golden bowl filled with perfume, and gently washed her white hands. Then, when her toilet was complete, they retired at a sign, leaving me alone with her. When all was silent she lifted her tiny foot from my neck and commanded me to rise. "Tell me, whence comest thou?" she inquired, in a hard rasping voice, when I stood before her. Our eyes met. Hers were of that unusual tint--almost violet. They held me in fascination. "I came from the desert land two moon's march beyond thine," I answered, noticing, at the same moment, that her shapely hands trembled. "I entered thy dominion by the gate known to us as the Rock of the Great Sin, the secret way that no man hath before penetrated." "Thou hast discovered it!" she gasped excitedly, half rising from her crystal seat of royalty, gleaming with its thousand iridescent fires. "Tell me, in which direction doth it lie?" "Far north, beyond the Mountains of the Mist, beyond the ruins of the wondrous temple thine ancestor raised to Sin, the Moon-god." "But tell me the exact position of the rock of the great god Sin," she demanded, eagerly. "It is a spot which existeth in the sayings of the priests, but it hath been lost to all men in the mazes of legendary lore." "Its exact position I cannot accurately describe," I answered. "Since passing through it and deciphering the rock-tablet of Semiramis, I have travelled many days in forest and over plain and mountain." "Couldst thou not guide me thither?" she asked, eagerly. "I fear I could not, O Queen," I answered. "Thou art, indeed, the Destroyer; the man who is my bitterest enemy," she observed, in a deeply reflective tone. "How?" I inquired. "Surely I have done thee no wrong!" "Since the day of Semiramis, the founder of Babylon and of Ea, it hath been told to each generation by our sages that a dark-faced stranger from the north shall one day enter our impregnable kingdom and approach its ruler," she said, hoarsely. "His entry shall be the curse that Anu, god of Destruction, hath placed upon our land, and this our city, with walls unbreakable, shall be overthrown and crumble into dust. When Semiramis founded this our land of Ea, she made not sufficient sacrifice unto Anu, therefore the dread god overthrew her colossal Temple of the Sun, and laid a curse upon the city, saying that he would one day direct hereto the steps of a man from the world beyond, and that this man should be the Destroyer. Thou art the one sent by Anu." She had fixed her brilliant eyes upon me, holding me transfixed. There was in her face a strange look of combined terror and hatred. "Well," I said, after a pause, "believest thou that I am the prophesied doer of evil?" "Assuredly thou art," she answered. "All is evil in thine accursed world beyond." "And thou, the goddess Istar, believest that I am capable of working evil against this thy giant city!" I observed, smiling. "Thou fearest that I am possessed of the evil-eye." "Thy coming fulfilleth the prophecies of our priests through ages," she answered, in a low, harsh tone. "Thou art mine enemy. I, my people and my land are doomed." "This, then, was the reason that I was cast into the lion-pit," I observed. She nodded in acquiescence, adding, "It was proposed that thou shouldst be devoured by the wild beasts as recompense for thine intrepidity; but I rescued thee because--because, I wished to hear thy story from thine own lips." "Already have I told thee all," I answered. "This thy land is known to the world beyond only by vague legends and the unwritten romances of story-tellers. When I return, I will tell my fellows of the wonders I have witnessed within thy brilliant kingdom." "No," she answered, rising with true regal dignity, yet trembling with anger. "Thou shalt never go back, for to thee, as to all men, this is the Land of the No Return. To kill thee will only hasten disaster upon myself, therefore, thou shalt remain my slave, and lest thou shouldst attempt to escape, thou shalt never leave my side, either by day or by night. I hold thee in servitude irrevocably. When the Day of Destruction, foretold by the prophets, cometh, then shall thine heart be torn out whilst thou art still alive, and given to Ninep, my tame lioness, to devour at a mouthful." I bowed, smiling bitterly; but no retort escaped my lips. Her strange, weird manner held me spellbound. "At least it shall be known," she cried, angrily, "that I hold in bondage, as my personal slave, the man who hath entered our land to bring evil upon us. Attempt not to escape, or assuredly will I slay thee with mine own hand," and she drew from her girdle of emeralds a short, keen knife, with hilt fashioned like a winged bull, which she kept therein concealed. "Thou appearest to consider me as harbinger of ill," I answered, with knit brows. "I have no design upon thee or thine. Love of adventure and a secret quest have led me hither." "A secret quest!" she cried. "What was it?" "I had heard stories of wonders within thy land, and sought its whereabouts," I said, ambiguously. "Then, thou didst discover the secret entrance; the mystery that hath remained hidden through an hundred ages?" "I did, O Istar," I replied. "Long I toiled in the darkness beneath the foundations of the rock of thy Moon-god, and emerged into thy wondrous country, with its city more amazing than any mine eyes have ever beheld." "Art thou dazzled?" she asked, smiling for the first time. "Indeed I am, O Queen," I replied. "The magnificence of thy city, the splendour of this thy palace, and the beauty of thy face entranceth me. Of a verity thine is a world apart, and thou art goddess and queen in one." She fixed her clear, wonderful eyes upon me, and her breast, covered with jewels, slowly heaved and fell. In her gaze I noticed, for the first time, a curious expression, and her manner was undisguisedly coquettish. "Then, why dost thou desire to leave our land of Ea? Why not remain here in happiness and contentment?" she asked, raising her pencilled brows, and toying with the long, gold pendant hanging from her ear. "Because," I answered, frankly, "because I am pledged to a woman who loveth me." "Who loveth thee!" she cried, fiercely. "Who is the woman?" "Azala, daughter of the Sultan 'Othman, of Sokoto," I answered. She was silent for a long time. Her white, well-formed hands twitched nervously. "Azala," she repeated slowly, in a hollow voice. "And thou desirest to return because thou lovest her?" I nodded. "The penalty for thine intrepidity is death," she continued, gravely. "For the present I spare thee, but thou shalt die when it pleaseth me. I am Istar, the ruler who holdeth her enemies in the hollow of her hand." "I am not thine enemy," I protested. "Thou art!" she cried, with flashing eyes. "Thou, son of Anu, art the Destroyer whose coming hath been foretold." "I am prepared to serve thee, and to prove to thee that I have entered thy land without evil intent," I said. "Be it so," she answered, drawing herself up suddenly. "Thou shalt serve me as slave, and attend me everywhere; but while I have breath thou shalt never return unto thy master Anu, the god of Destruction, who dwelleth in the land afar." Her agitation was intense. In her excitement she stood beside her great crystal throne, grasping with both hands one of the human-headed monstrosities which served as arms, while her pale face had assumed a haggard look, and around her eyes were large, dark rings. This woman who, as Queen of the ancient realm, was also worshipped by every man and woman as Istar, the Goddess of Love, possessed an extraordinary personality. In features, in manner, in her luxurious mode of life, she was remarkable; while, as I had already had illustration, she was cruel, quick tempered and relentless, overlooking no fault, and holding her unique position as some supernatural ruler of earth. The legend current throughout Ea, prophesying the appearance of a visitant and the downfall of the city, was extremely unfavourable to me, I knew; nevertheless, I recollected my pledge to Azala, my long and adventurous journey thither, and now that I was actually at last in Ea I was more than ever determined to fathom the mystery that my well-beloved had alleged would be revealed unto me. The strange life about me held me entranced with wonder. Everything was upon a scale so colossal and extravagantly luxurious that I gazed about lost in wonder. The dwelling-place of the beautiful woman who held me captive, a palace and temple combined, was, indeed, a magnificent pile of amazing proportions and was well named the House of the Raising of the Head, for it was full of marvels at every turn. Istar's firm determination that I should not leave her side was certainly disconcerting; nevertheless the Koran telleth us that by patience much can be accomplished; therefore, I decided to stifle the voice of protest, endure my lot, and bow to the woman who had held me humiliated as slave in sight of her brilliant court. Again, with eyes flashing, she heaped fierce curses upon me, declaring that my life should be made a burden; that ere a moon had passed I should long for death; and that my face should never again be brightened by the eyes of the woman I loved. In the midst of a string of epithets bestowed upon me with a terrible volubility, two heralds, in golden breastplates and white-plumed helmets, entered the chamber, and raising their great brazen horns blew three loud blasts, whereat Istar, the words of reproach dying on her lips, sank among the cushions of her throne, while, almost at the same instant, the great silken curtains again parted, revealing the assembled multitude of soldiers, courtiers, eunuchs and priests, who had apparently remained awaiting their Queen's pleasure. Erect, I stood beside the gleaming throne gazing upon the brilliant court of this curious monarch, while Ninep, the tame lioness, walked slowly past, sniffing inquiringly at her mistress, then stood licking her soft, bejewelled hand, the hand that she declared would strike me dead if I attempted to return to the world outside. Impetuosity was one of her many peculiarities. One moment so fierce was she that she would herself assassinate any who hesitated to obey her wish; the next she would smile good-humouredly, as though she knew not a moment of anger, and malice found no resting-place within her heart. Suddenly she raised her hand, and a silence, deep and complete, fell upon the gorgeous, perfumed multitude. Ninep yawned, stretched herself at her mistress's feet, and placing her head upon her paws, blinked lazily at those below the steps of polished silver. "Know," she said a moment later, in a clear, not unmusical voice, "this son of Anu beside me is indeed the Destroyer whom our fathers have expected for ages, and whom the prophets have told us will bring evil upon Ea." "Let him be given as food to the lions!" they shouted. "Kill him, O Istar, that he may not betray us into the hands of those who seek our destruction! Anu hath set his seal upon Ea, and our city must be overthrown, but let the spy be killed so that he may not furnish report unto those who sent him hither." "He shall die," Istar replied, briefly. A roar of approbation instantly broke forth; but next instant, again raising her hand to command quiet, the queen-goddess continued,-- "He shall die when, as my slave, he hath served me." "Let him die now, O Istar!" they shouted. "Gladden our hearts by letting us see the lions tear him limb from limb. He is the Destroyer, the visitant against whom the sages have warned us. Through him will the vengeance of Anu, the dread god, descend upon us. Let him die!" "No," she answered, both hands resting upon the crystal arms of her glittering throne. "I have spoken. He is my personal slave, bound to my side by night and by day." "Dost thou not fear to have a son of Anu as thy body-servant?" asked an aged priest, with flowing white beard and high head-dress of shining gold, surmounted by a star, the emblem of Istar. "He may wreak vengeance upon thee." "I am Istar, and know not fear," she answered, haughtily. "Men bow to me, and women make sacrifice in my temple. For those who incur my displeasure, Merodach, the protector of mankind, will not mediate." Then the queen-goddess nodded towards a man of tall stature, attired in a robe of dead black. Again the trumpets sounded thrice, as signal for her captains to come forward and present their reports. They came, one by one, advancing to the foot of the steps, bowing upon one knee, and obtaining the sanction of their sovereign upon various matters. At last, when about twenty had been received and dismissed, a man older than the rest, and wearing a breastplate in which rubies were set in the form of a great star within a circle, advanced, knelt before the bewitching Queen, and mumbled some words that I could not catch. Istar inclined her head slightly in approbation. Then, bidding the white-headed warrior to rise, said aloud,-- "Know, Larsa, this stranger that is within our gates hath discovered the Rock of the Moon-god, and entered into our presence thereby. The curse of Anu, the Progenitor, who changeth not the decree coming forth from his mouth, hath fallen. Go with thine hosts far beyond the Mountains of the Mist even unto the confines of Ea, and there search long and diligently, so that thou mayest discover and defend the secret way. Let not the feet of those of evil defile our land, for assuredly the sign is set upon us, and destruction threateneth. Thy valiant hosts must avert it." "Thy will shall be done, O divine patroness," the old man answered, bowing low till his beard almost swept the pavement. "I will haste to do thy bidding." "May Merodach encompass thee with his shield that none can penetrate," she exclaimed, as, turning, he went forth to lead his soldiers in search of the strange, natural gate by which I had entered. For an hour the queen-goddess continued to receive those who craved audience, giving advice, hearing petitions, and dispensing justice. Then her brows knit, she grew tired, and at her command the great apartment was cleared of all except the twelve slaves whose duty it was to cool her with their huge fans of flamingoes' wings. "Thou hast not told me thy name," she exclaimed, suddenly turning upon me. "Thy servant is called Zafar," I answered. "So be it," she said, glancing at me quickly, with sinister look. She paused a moment, then, rising languidly from her seat, slowly descended the steps, followed by all her retinue, including myself. "Depart not from my sight," she commanded, turning towards me. "Where I go, there shalt thou go also." Through the great hall she led the way into a smaller apartment, hung with gorgeous stuffs, where, in an alcove beyond, was a great couch supported by four lions in silver, with curtains of purple worked with silver. In the centre of the chamber was an upright conical stone, black, with many lines of arrowheads engraved thereon. It was, I afterwards learned, the symbol of Baal, the ruler and vivifier of nature. Her women, priestesses of Istar, attired in loose robes of pure white, with their unbound hair secured by a golden fillet, unloosed her heavy girdle of emeralds which confined her waist, removed her little slippers of snake skin, and again bathed her face with some delicate perfume. Then they tenderly laid her to rest upon the couch, and while four men-at-arms, with drawn swords, took up their positions as guards, two at head and two at foot, they threw themselves down upon the lion-skins spread about. Before the alcove, wherein reclined the queen, a veil of silver sheen descended, for already her wondrous eyes had closed, and, tired out, she had fallen into a light slumber. I, her slave, sat upon the floor, hugging my knees, deep in thought, and waiting, with the silent guards, until the dawn. Truly my position was a remarkable one. I had found that which all men before had failed to discover. I was actually living in a world unknown. CHAPTER FORTY. THE FESTIVAL OF TAMMUZ. But one desire possessed me--to return to Azala. In the many days which followed the first night of my captivity I witnessed innumerable marvels. The pageantry in the palace, known to all as E Sagilla, "The House of the Raising of the Head," was of amazing brilliance; and in the great city, sixty English miles in circumference, and built with extreme regularity, with broad, straight streets crossing one another at right angles, the sights which met my gaze filled me with astonishment. Though the dwellers in that long-forgotten kingdom possessed many inventions similar to those I had witnessed in London, yet their religion, manners and customs were the same as those which existed four thousand years ago, when the all-powerful Semiramis caused her record to be engraved in the foundations of the rock she consecrated to her supposed father, the Moon-god, Sin, "the lord of the waxing and the waning." The buildings were on colossal scale, with towers reaching to a far greater height than any I had seen in European cities, and the display of gold, silver and gems, mostly brought there ages ago by the notable woman who founded Babylon and conquered Ethiopia, held me in constant wonderment. In the great courts of the temple-palace I watched the sacrifice of rams upon the triangular fire-altars, attended by long-bearded priests of Gibil, the Fire-god, in robes whereon were embroidered fir cones, apt emblems of fire; and everywhere I noticed symbols of the celestial deities, while power was typified indiscriminately on every hand by colossal figures of winged, human-headed, and sometimes eagle-headed, lions and bulls. Through one whole moon I had been slave of Istar, and scarcely left her side for a single instant by night or day, hourly witnessing sights that were amazing, and occupying my leisure in deciphering the profuse cuneiform inscriptions graven on almost every wall or door-lintel by hands that ages ago had crumbled to dust. From them I learned much regarding the history of that wondrous kingdom; how, before the death of Semiramis, she was worshipped as Istar, Goddess of Love. In some inscriptions I found her referred to as "Queen of the Crescent-moon," "Queen of the Stars," and "Queen of Heaven"; in others as "Queen of War and Battle," "Archeress of the Gods," and "Queen of all the Gods;" but it was distinctly stated in several of the colossal wall-pictures that, before she died, she decreed that her daughter should be ruler of Ea, and that all should worship her as Istar. Each Queen should remain unmarried until the age of forty, and should be worshipped as Goddess of Love, and each King should be known as Hea, and should place his daughter upon the throne in preference to his son. Through four thousand years this wonderful kingdom had existed in all its magnificence, in defiance to Anu, the god of Destruction, and during that period the dignity of queen-goddess had been handed down from generation to generation, its bearer dwelling within that great temple raised by the autocratic Empress who founded Babylon. Those giant walls, with their sculptured feasts and victories, had remained intact, black and polished like iron, colossal monuments of Assyria's greatness, and as in the silence of night, when I watched while Istar slept, I gazed upon them and reflected, wondering whether Allah would ever allow me to escape to tell the world of my amazing discovery of this mysterious, unknown realm. Many were the feasts held within that colossal palace, but chief among them was the Festival of Tammuz, "The only-begotten son of Dav-Kina, the lady of the earth." This, held about one moon after my captivity, was upon a scale of unsurpassed magnificence, the feasting, drinking and merry-making continuing throughout seven days and nights. The court of the garden of the palace wherein Istar feasted the people of Ea was fitted up with white, green and blue hangings, fastened with cords of fine linen and purple to silver rings and pillars of marble; the couches of the female guests were of gold and silver upon the pavement of red, blue, white and black marble. Men sat in high chairs of ivory, and drank wine from golden vessels, slaves served them with various fruits and viands, and each hour the guests were entertained with music and dancing. Of musical instruments there were but two kinds--a drum, and a sort of triangular lyre with ten strings, held in the left hand, and struck with a plectrum held in the right. Exalted upon her dais, in the centre of the beautiful garden, sat Istar, with queenly hauteur gazing down upon the animated scene. Every house throughout the city was illuminated, for the Festival of Tammuz was celebrated by all, and many were the magnificent banquets given by high officers and notabilities. Twice Istar drove through the streets in her gilded chariot, drawn by eight milk-white stallions, I, her slave, sitting at her side. She did this, no doubt, to publicly demonstrate to the populace the fact that she held me captive, for as we passed along the straight, broad thoroughfares she was greeted by the wild plaudits of the multitude, while upon my head curses most terrible were showered. When on the last night of the great festival the music had been silenced, the guests had left their couches, the dancing-girls had retired, and we were alone together in the silent, moonlit garden, she sighed deeply, glanced at me for an instant, and rose. Her heavy anklets of gold clinked as she descended the silver steps of her throne, and, as mutely I followed, I saw that high above us still shone the single shaft of intense white light from the summit of the towering Temple of the Seven Lights. It was, I had learned from one of the priests, known as The Eye of Istar, a light that had shone forth, night and day without ceasing, ever since Semiramis herself made the first sacrifice in that high temple tower of seven coloured stories, consecrated to the Goddess of Love. On the summit of that tower every woman was bound by the law of Babylon's founder to make sacrifice to Istar, and it was the duty of the white-robed vestal virgins to keep the light burning incessantly, to remind the people that Istar watched over them and was their ruler. Ofttimes I had been seized with curiosity to ascend that tower where all women, rich and poor alike, were compelled to prostrate themselves at least once in their lives, and it was with satisfaction that I now saw my royal mistress slowly approach the entrance to the temple-tower. As we crossed the great court the huge crowd that had assembled bowed in silence. At the portals twelve fair-haired girls, in robes of pure white, greeted her with great ceremony; then, headed by a wizened old priest, with snowy beard and horned cap of gold, surmounted by a star, we commenced to climb the wide flight of winding marble stairs. The ascent was long and toilsome. At each stage we halted, and a prayer was recited to the god to whom it was dedicated, until at length we reached the great domed pavilion that formed its summit. From above, the unquenchable light shone down upon the gigantic city, while the roof of pale blue, decorated with golden stars, was supported by twisted columns of gilded marble. Ibises, the sacred birds of love, flitted in and out at will, and in the centre, raised upon a silver pedestal from the pearl and ebony mosaic pavement, stood an undraped statue of Istar herself. Its sight entranced me, for in her right hand she was represented as holding two asps entwined, the same symbol as that branded upon my breast! Around the image of the Goddess of Love, a crowd of young women and girls from the city were kneeling. Some had their lips pressed to its feet; others were lounging upon skins gazing away out upon the brightly-lit city. The scene was indeed a striking one. The bright moon shed her light full upon the statue, causing it to stand out in bold relief, while the golden braziers, here and there, burned perfumes which filled the air with a delicious, intoxicating fragrance. When we entered all was silence, but the instant it became known that Istar herself was present, with one accord the worshippers rose, struggling with one another to kiss the hem of her gold-embroidered robe. Once each year, at the conclusion of the Festival of Tammuz, Istar herself ascended to pass the night within the temple, and pose in the flesh as the Goddess of Love. Hence, on that night, great crowds assembled to see her enter the tower, and the unmarried women of Ea, who had not before made sacrifice, congregated at the summit. The scene was strangely impressive. Surrounded by her white-robed priestesses, she stood before the image in the ekal, or main nave, and raised her bare white arms to heaven. When all her votaries had kissed her robe, and ranged themselves around her, a dead silence fell. Suddenly, in clear, musical tones, her hands still raised above her head, whereon was fixed the golden star, she commenced to chant the beautiful hymn to the Moon-god, Sin,-- "Merciful one, begotten of the universe, who foundeth his illustrious seat among living creatures. Long-suffering father, full of forgiveness, whose hand upholdeth the lives of mankind. Lord, thy divinity is as the wide heavens, and filleth the unknown seas with its fear. On the surface of the peopled world he biddeth the sanctuary be placed--he proclaimeth their name. The father, the begotten of gods and men, who causeth the shrine to be founded, who established the offering, who proclaimeth dominion, who giveth the sceptre, who shall fix destiny unto a far distant day, look down upon this our House of Lustre, and let it never be cast down." Then the women, casting aside their outer garments of silk and purple, knelt and prayed long, invoking the indwelling spirit of life, called "Zi," following it by a supplication to Mul-lil "lord of the night-sky," and concluding with an appeal to Istar herself, crying,-- "In heaven, who is supreme? Thou alone art supreme! On earth, who is supreme? Thou alone art supreme!" It was a curious and weird form of adoration and worship. The Goddess of Love stood erect and statuesque, without moving a muscle, as each worshipper, advancing, paid her homage. Some kissed her fingertips, others her bare feet, each making declaration that they were henceforward her slaves. Meanwhile, the priestesses, all young women of extreme beauty, chanted softly strange hymns to the great Baal, head-father and creator of the universe, and with the moonlight streaming full upon her, Istar looked, indeed, one of entrancing beauty, yet cold as an icicle. Above her head the statue, its stone arm outstretched, held the strange symbol that Azala and I bore upon our breasts, and as I stood watching I saw with what intense devotion the women worshipped her. Unseemly rites were undoubtedly connected with the worship of Istar, the Babylonian Venus, in the time-effaced city of Sardanapalus, but here there were no degrading symbols; indeed, the surroundings in this elevated temple showed considerable purity of taste and feeling, and the sacrifices were in the form of gold, jewels, food and wine. At length, after many prayers and supplications to each of the gods of the celestial triad, Istar turned, and, accompanied by her priestesses, slowly moved away, her votaries still remaining prostrate upon their faces. Behind the ekal in which she had been standing was a veil of golden thread, which, being drawn aside, disclosed the sacred seat or couch called the papakha, the holy of holies of the Goddess of Love. When we had passed beyond the veil, it fell behind us, and the priestesses, having attended Istar at her elaborate toilet, she reclined with languor upon the purple velvet cushions of her soft couch. Meanwhile, the votaries were leaving, and, when the veil was again raised, the ekal was deserted. But only for a moment. An aged man, in long, black gown, came forth from the darkness, and, standing on the spot where the goddess had stood, raised both hands towards her. His appearance was evidently part of the annual custom, for it was apparent that the priestesses and slaves, cooling their mistress with their great fans, had expected him. Scarcely, however, had he opened his mouth, when Istar, springing from her couch, stood glaring at him with threatening gesture. Her hands trembled as words escaped her, "Ah! I had forgotten! Forgotten!" she wailed. Unsteadily she swayed forward for a moment, then sank back again upon her couch with blanched countenance. "Lo!" cried the aged prophet, in a croaking voice, "through three-score years have I uttered warning!--the same warning, that since the day of the founder of Ea, hath been spoken at the conclusion of each Festival of Tammuz, son of the Lady of the Earth." "Yea, I know! I know!" gasped Istar. "Loose not thy tongue's strings. Each year thou hast repeated thy prophecy; spare me its recital to-night!" "Semiramis, our great queen, commanded that it should be uttered, therefore seek not to stay my words," he answered reproachfully, in a grave voice. "Thus saith Anu, god of Destruction, `Semiramis, when she built Ea, made no sacrifice, because she feared me not. Behold, I will direct unto Ea a stranger, who shall enter within its gates, and the day of whose coming none shall know. He shall be as a sign unto you that I will bring upon Ea a king of kings from the north, with horses and with chariots, and with horsemen, and with companies, and with much people. He--'" "No!" cried Istar, covering her haggard face with her hands, while the tame lioness stood watching, her tail sweeping the ground. "I know thou art the skeleton of the Feast of Tammuz, but spare me thy disconcerting words." The prophet, however, continued, heedless of her earnest supplications. "`He shall kill the daughters of Ea in the field; and he shall make a fort against thee, and cast a mount against thee, and lift up the buckler against thee. And he shall set engines of war against thy walls, and with his axes shall he break down these towers. By reason of the abundance of his horses, their dust shall cover thee; the walls of Ea shall shake at the noise of the horsemen, and of the wheels and of the chariots, when he shall enter into thy gates, as men enter into a city wherein is made a breach. With the hoofs of his horses shall he tread down all thy streets; he shall put thy people to the sword, and thy strong garrisons shall be against them as a weak reed. And they shall kill thee and send thee to the city of Ninkigat, ruler of the great land of evil, whose palace walls are clothed in dust, the inhabitants thereof wearing robes of feathers like birds. And they shall make a spoil of thy riches and a prey of thy merchandise; and they shall break down thy walls and destroy thine houses; and they shall root up thy foundation-stones, and lay thy timber and thy dust in the midst of the water.'" Istar set her teeth. For an instant she glanced at me, the stranger foretold by the prophet; then her eyes were turned upon the man who had prophesied her downfall. I saw in their violet depths a steely glitter, as with one hand she fondled her pet Ninep. Almost as the last word left the old man's lips she rose to her feet, and, with a word to the lioness, she pointed to the aged man who had dared to incur her displeasure. Ninep crouched at the feet of her mistress for a single instant, then, flying through the air, fixed her deadly fangs in the sage's throat. One loud scream of agony sounded as man and beast rolled over in deadly embrace. Next second I saw the polished pavement was defiled by blood. Obedient to the call of her mistress, Ninep trotted back and licked her hand, leaving the prophet mangled and dead. Slaves quickly removed all evidences of the tragedy, and while they did so Istar sank back, her fair face buried among the cushions, a single sob escaping her. CHAPTER FORTY ONE. THE TEMPLE OF LOVE. That night, in gloomy mood, Istar reclined dreamily upon her soft papakha, dismissing all her priestesses and slaves, so that I remained alone with her. With my back to one of the golden pillars supporting the roof, I sat silent in thought, scarce daring to move, for fear of the dozing lioness. Istar had fallen into a troubled sleep, and lay tossing upon her couch with tumbled tresses. A sudden murmur from her caused me to glance in her direction, when I saw her lying, still asleep, ghastly pale beneath the light of the moon. Her robe was disarranged; her delicate chest, that slowly heaved and fell, had become revealed. As I looked, I discerned, to my amazement, that it bore the device of the entwined asps, identically the same as had been branded upon me; the same as appeared on the rock-tablet of Semiramis! Azala had spoken the truth. So far had the Mystery of the Asps been revealed. The strange link that joined me with the daughter of the Sultan 'Othman joined us both, in some unaccountable manner, to the goddess-queen of this ancient land of marvels. I rose, and, creeping nearer, minutely examined the mystic mark upon her chest. It was seared as deeply, and presented a blemish as hideous, as my own. Lying, as she was, in graceful abandon, with one arm flung over her head, her chest rose and fell each time she breathed, but suddenly she drew a long, deep-drawn sigh, and her eyes opened. I started back, but already she had detected me. "Well?" she exclaimed, regarding me with dreamy glance through her half-opened lashes, slowly readjusting the white silken robe that had come apart at the neck. "Why hast thou approached me?" "Thou hast slept uneasily," I answered, "and a hideous mark upon thy breast became revealed." Languidly she raised her head upon her arm, and with eyes still half closed, like Ninep, her dozing lioness, she said,-- "Come hither, Zafar. Come to my side." Obediently I approached her couch. Her breast rose, causing her diamonds to sparkle. During the past few days I had not failed to notice in her manner an entire change. She accorded me more liberty; she no longer placed her spiteful heel upon my neck as sign of triumph, and seldom she spoke to me with wilful gesture. Once, the amazing thought had flashed across my mind that she actually loved me, but at such absurd notion I had laughed and placed it aside. "What seest thou in the Mark of the Asps to amaze thee?" she asked, when I had drawn nigh to her, and Ninep sniffed my legs inquisitively. "It is as a strange mark," I answered. "I was wondering what its meaning might be." "Ah!" she sighed. "Its meaning none can tell, save that those who bear it are the doomed." "The doomed!" I gasped. "Why?" "Upon his accursed Anu setteth his mark. Hence it is that I bear it," she answered, gravely. "Thou art mine enemy, Zafar," she added, after a slight, painful pause. "To-night have I sent away my women, so that I may speak with thee, the stranger whose coming hath been prophesied for ages. By all men in Ea I am supposed to hate thee, yet--yet--" Again she paused, looking at me intently with eyes in which burned the unmistakable light of love. "Yet thou canst not bring thyself to cast me into the lions' pit," I observed, smiling bitterly. "Better that thou shouldst give me my liberty, and allow me to depart." "Never," she cried, starting up. "Thou shalt never leave me. If I am doomed to die, thou shalt die also." "Why?" I asked. "I have wrought thee no ill." "Thou hast struck the chord of affection within my heart, Zafar," she said, passionately. "Already have I told thee that Azala, daughter of the Sultan 'Othman, is betrothed to me," I answered, not in the least surprised at this passionate declaration. "Heed her not," she cried. "Already I know that Anu, though he sendeth thee hither as sign of the overthrow of Ea, hath, nevertheless, placed upon thee also the Mark of the Asps." I started. I had no idea that she had ascertained the secret hidden beneath my robe of crimson silk. Some slave must, at her bidding, have examined my chest as I slept. "And if so?" "Then thou wilt assuredly meet with a violent end." I smiled, and she regarded me with knit brows. "If thou art my friend," I said, "then thou wilt release me." "No. None departs from or enters the Land of the No Return," she answered. "Since the foundation of Ea one man only escaped into the outer world. It happened ages ago. He never returned hither, for on the day the calamity befel us Anu was wroth, a great earthquake occurred, and the gate by which he made his exit became closed for ever." Already had I heard a similar legend during my long and eager search for the Rock of Sin, the Moon-god, the "illuminator of the earth and lord of laws." "Who was the man who escaped?" I inquired. "Legend saith his name was Nebo," she answered. "Knowest thou any of that name?" In the negative I replied, reflecting upon the strange story of the escape of this man beyond the confines of Ea, and wondering what adventures befel him. Then she went on to relate how, on many occasions, there had appeared in cloud pictures, or mirages, inverted pictures of the unapproachable world beyond; and I, in turn, explained how the Rock of the Moon-god and the Mountains of the Mist appeared frequently in the desert mirage in far-off Kano. "Hast thou ever seen Ea mirrored on the clouds?" she inquired. "Never," I answered. "Thy city is unknown, hence my speechless amazement at its discovery." "Why desirest thou to return to thy land of evil?" she asked, stretching forth her hand and softly stroking Ninep's sleek back. "Because of the woman I love." She bit her lip to the blood, and glanced at me with an evil glint in her bright eyes. "Thou carest naught for me," she observed, reproachfully, regarding me sharply with narrowing brows. "I am but thy captive," I responded. "As Queen of Ea thou mayest not allow love to enter thine heart until thou growest old. Why dost thou taunt me?" Mention of the rigid law of her great ancestress, Semiramis, caused her to frown. "So be it," she answered, hoarsely. "If thou wilt not renounce thy love for this woman who dwelleth in thine accursed land, then thou art still my slave." "I am content," I said. "Thou hast chosen?" she inquired, slowly rising to her feet and standing erect before me. "I have chosen." "Then to-morrow the lions shall rend thee in full gaze of the assembled people of Ea, who shall make sport of thy supplications, and thy cries shall be as music unto their ears," she burst forth, in a sudden fury of passion. "Anu shall rend thee, Nergal, lord of death, shall seize thee, and thou shalt be accursed by the Fever-god, and cast into the dread kingdom of Niffer. Baal shall show thee no mercy; Adarmalik, lord of the noon-day sun, shall hide his light from thee; Shamas shall blind thee, and thou shalt exist for ever in the torments prepared by Ninkigat in the burning land where all is dust. Thou hast disdained the favours that I would have bestowed upon thee, despised me, and flung back the love that I would have given thee. Therefore shalt thou die. I, Istar, ruler of Ea, have spoken." Her beautiful face was distorted by fierce, uncontrolled passion, vituperation fell from her lips with a rapidity which almost choked her, her mass of dead gold hair had escaped from its fillet and fell in profusion about her shoulders, while her white, filmy robe, open again at the neck, disclosed the hideous, mysterious blemish scarred dark red upon the white flesh--the mark that was branded upon the woman I loved as well as the queen-goddess who had condemned me to death. My dogged silence enraged her. It seemed as though during the weeks of my captivity she had unconsciously grown to regard me with affection, and held me as slave of her caprice. Yet my thoughts, ever of Azala, were so full that I had never before actually realised the position in which I now suddenly found myself. "Thou utterest no word!" she cried. "Thou art still defiant. To-morrow wilt thou crave mercy at my feet, but I will show thee none. Thou hast sneered at my power, set at naught my good-will, and refused to abandon all thought of return to thy land of evil, and the woman who holdeth thee entranced. Thou shalt never look upon her face again!" I turned away from the irate beauty, whose hands were clenched within their palms until the nails drew blood, and without replying, slowly crossed the polished pavement of the temple, passing over the spot whereon the hapless prophet had fallen beneath Ninep's deadly claws, and advancing to the sculptured parapet of alabaster, whereon I leaned in thought, gazing down upon the gay, brightly-lit city, and the great buildings and courts which comprised the wonderful House of the Raising of the Head. Ninep uttered a low growl. The moon shone brightly, lighting up the extensive view on every hand. Below lay the well-remembered flight of steps, brilliantly illuminated, with their double row of guards in shining breastplates. Beyond the palace walls the lights of the streets showed in long, straight lines. Above, the shaft of intense white brilliance, the inextinguishable Eye of Istar, still streamed forth upon the wondrous city of Ea, lighting up its terraces, its obelisks and colossal temples like day, while, far away in the distance, the snowy, serrated crests of the Mountains of the Mist showed high, ghost-like, mysterious. Beyond lay freedom and Azala. Already had I witnessed that Istar, quick tempered and passionate, was capable of any cruelty or treachery, even towards her most trusted friends. This woman, worshipped as Goddess of Love, was, indeed, full of grace, beautiful in form, with a face almost flawless; but the cruelties she practised almost daily were revolting. To incur her anger meant death, either upon the torture-wheel or in the lion pit, and ofttimes, while standing beside her, I had noticed the exultant pleasure with which she condemned men and women to torture or to the grave. The people of Ea called her goddess; I thought her a fiend. As over the parapet I gazed aimlessly away across the gigantic capital of this world-forgotten race, it became impressed upon me that, to save my life, I must at once seek means of escape. But how? As Istar's personal slave, it seemed impossible to elude her vigilance; even if I escaped outside the city my way back to the Rock of the Moon-god was uncertain. I recollected also that within the gloomy cavern there existed an utterly impassable barrier between myself and the world I had left--that roaring inrush of water descending to feed the subterranean river. Times without number thoughts of freedom had possessed me, but on each occasion I had been forced to abandon hope, resign myself to the galling captivity in which I existed, and possess my soul in patience. Now, however, I had become desperate. The moon, while I stood watching long and earnestly, became obscured by a dense black cloud shaped like a falcon's wing, which left only a patch of green sky half round its disc. On either side of the city the great plain stretched dark and wide. The shapes of the mountains could not be discerned, but showed like a heavy cloud bank against the horizon. My strained eyes could discern a speck of light afar off, which, as it was too low for a star, could only mark the existence of some house on the distant mountain-side. The silence could be felt. The day of feasting and mad gaiety had, it seemed, exhausted all the voices of nature as well as those of men. At length I turned towards the papakha. Istar had sunk back upon her purple couch, wearied by the continuous gaiety of the festival, and forgetful of her wrath, had again fallen asleep, her head thrown back upon a great, tasselled cushion of rose silk. One of her slippers had fallen off, disclosing her bare foot, with its heavy, bejewelled anklets, while near her Ninep had stretched her long body, with her snout between her paws. Between us stood the life-sized statue upon its pedestal, the image of Love, before which all women of Ea bowed and made sacrifice. Ghostly it looked in the pale half light with the symbol of the entwined asps held within its right hand, and as I advanced towards it I touched its base. The stone had been worn smooth as glass by the lips of priestesses and votaries who had worshipped at that shrine through all the ages since Semiramis; the feet and legs were worn hollow and out of symmetry by the osculations of the millions of women who had ascended that tower to the gorgeous Temple of Istar to prostrate themselves. The image stretched forth its arm over me ominously, and the perfumed smoke from the braziers, whirled up by a breath of the night wind, wrapped around me a subtle, almost suffocating, fragrance. Istar slept on with heaving breasts. One chance alone remained to me--a dash for liberty. Advancing cautiously a few paces I craned my neck to satisfy myself that her slumber was not feigned; then, with a last look upon her, I turned and crept silently away into the shadow where the stairs descended. I had just reached them, when a faint rustling behind me caused me to glance quickly round. In an instant I recognised the truth. Istar had followed me. With a cry of rage she sprang upon me, her poniard gleaming in her hand. Long ago she had vowed to kill me if I attempted to leave her side, and it was now her intention to carry out her threat. One fierce blow she aimed at my heart, and in warding it off the blade gashed my arm. At the same moment, however, I wrested the weapon from her hand, and held her tightly by the wrists. To free herself she struggled violently, but I held her powerless, when suddenly there was a low, ominous growl, and Ninep, in defence of her mistress, pounced upon me, her great claws fixing themselves in my left shoulder. Instantly I recognised the ferocity of my second adversary, and releasing Istar, I plunged the long, keen knife full into the eye of the lioness. Fortunately my aim proved true, for in a few seconds the great brute, her brain penetrated, fell back helpless and dying. Again Istar, with the fury of a virago, rushed upon me, declaring that I should not escape. My first impulse was to kill her. Indeed, I confess I raised my knife to plunge it into her breast, but next second gripped her by the throat, and hurled her back upon the pavement where she lay huddled in a heap, stunned, motionless, and unconscious. With a final glance at her inanimate form, I secreted the knife within my silken girdle, then dashed down the stairs--down, down, through the six deserted temples, tier on tier, until I reached the silent courtyard, which I hastily crossed and went to Istar's private apartment, whence I took a small tablet of sun-dried clay whereon a message had been impressed. This I placed in my pouch, and, taking a staff, set forth to gain my freedom. In fear each moment lest Istar should regain consciousness, and raise the alarm, I hurried on through the great apartments with their colossal sculptures, where scribes and courtiers, officials and soldiers, were slumbering after the week's festivities, and at length gained the head of the brilliantly-lit flight of steps, the one way by which the royal palace could be approached. As soon as I drew near to the head of the broad stairs the lances of the guards were interlaced from top to bottom. My passage was barred until I had explained to the two officers that I was bearer of an urgent message from Istar, and exhibited to them the tablet bearing her seal. Then only was I allowed to proceed. At each of the seven gates between the actual entrance to the palace and the brazen gate of the city, I presented my credential and was afforded free passage. In trepidation I approached one of the great doors of polished brass that closed the entrance to the city, and again drew forth the tablet. The officer of the watch scrutinised it long and carefully by the aid of his lantern, then, finding everything satisfactory, gave orders that the gate should be opened to pass out a messenger of Istar. One of the ponderous doors creaked at last, and groaning, slowly fell back just sufficiently to allow me to pass. "May Merodach guard thee, messenger," shouted the officer as I went forth. "And thee also," I answered, as out upon the plain I sped quickly in the direction of freedom. Behind me the shaft of white light still streamed from the summit of the Temple of the Seven Lights; before me were the half-obscured Mountains of the Mist. Once I glanced back upon the wonderful centre of a civilisation unknown to the world, then resolutely I set my face towards the pole-star, determined to put as great a distance as possible between myself and those who would undoubtedly pursue me ere the first saffron streak of dawn showed the direction of Mecca. CHAPTER FORTY TWO. CROOKED PATHS. Full of increasing anxiety were the days following my escape from Ea. At dawn, while high in the shadowy Mountains of the Mist, I heard the alarm beaten in the distant city below, and could just distinguish, through the cloud of vapour, troops of horsemen leaving the brazen gates to scour the country in search of me. Istar had, no doubt, recovered, and, perhaps, had declared that I had made an attempt upon her life. A determined effort would, I knew, be made to secure me; therefore, having found the path I recognised as having before traversed, I pushed onward, day by day, until I reached the ruins of the great temple which had held me in wonderment when first I had entered that mysterious realm; then, striking due north, through forest and fertile, park-like country, I came to a river which I remembered was not far distant from the small, half-concealed hole whence I had emerged. Proceeding along its sedgy bank at early morning, I came round a sharp bend, espying, to my amazement, a cluster of tents before me, and held back only just in time to escape detection. Already my pursuers were ahead of me! Nevertheless, taking a circuitous route, and sleeping in a tree that night, my eyes, after long and diligent search, were gladdened by the sight of the spot I sought. As I stood before it, I reflected that, although I had defeated the evil design of Istar, I was still in a position equally as perilous as before, because of the raging, foaming torrent, which, descending from the Lake of the Accursed through its funnel-like aperture, formed a natural and insurmountable barrier to my freedom. Ea was indeed the Land of the No Return. I had eaten my frugal morning meal, and was about to leisurely enter the long, natural chamber beneath the rock, and there decide upon some plan of action, when suddenly the bright gleam of arms through the greenery attracted my attention, and a moment later I found myself confronted by two of Istar's soldiers, who had evidently been watching me. They called upon me to surrender, at the same time shouting to their comrades; but, without an instant's hesitation, I evaded their grasp and scrambling up into the hole, plunged into the dark fissure and sped quickly along over rocks and stones, heedless of where I went. Hurrying footsteps sounded behind me, the voices of my eager pursuers echoing loudly through the place, causing the flock of bats and birds nesting there to fly out into the sunlight in a dense, screaming crowd, while I, dashing onward, fled like a rat before a ferret. The chase in the pitch darkness was long, wearying and desperate. It was a race for life. By their voices I could distinguish that the soldiers were gradually gaining upon me; yet, struggling on, now and then falling and cutting my knees as I scrambled over the sharp rocks, being always compelled to keep my hands stretched forth lest I should stun myself against the rough sides of the natural passage. Still, I was determined to hold out until the last, although not a single ray of hope glimmered through the dispiriting gloom. Istar had told me that, as bearer of the Mark of the Asps, I was doomed. Although I struggled forward I had been compelled to abandon all hope of returning again to Azala. Close behind me were my pursuers, yelling like fiends. The place sent back weird, unearthly echoes from its uneven, vaulted roof, yet, in the utter darkness, they could not see me, but only pressed forward, eager to run me to earth and ascertain the extent of the strange, unknown grotto. Suddenly I held my breath, feeling myself treading for an instant upon air, and uttering a loud shriek when I realised the truth. I had forgotten the great chasm into which I had so nearly fallen when last I had passed there, and had now plunged headlong into it! Down, down, I felt myself falling, until the fearful velocity with which I descended rendered me giddy. Those moments in mid-air seemed an hour, until, after dropping a long distance, I felt a sudden blow on the back that drove the breath from my body and held me paralysed. I knew then that I was lost. When, a few minutes later, I again became conscious, I heard excited voices far above uttering words of caution. My shriek had evidently been noticed by my pursuers, who, surmising that some evil had befallen me, halted, and feeling their way carefully forward, had discovered the wide chasm which I had believed unfathomable. I was lying in soft dust which, preventing any of my bones being broken, had also deadened the sound when, long ago, I had cast stones into the pit to ascertain its depth. Slowly I struggled to my feet, and finding myself uninjured, began groping about in the darkness to ascertain the accurate dimensions of the abyss. Half choked by the fine dust, I stumbled about, with outstretched hands, but could discover neither sides nor roof, when suddenly a soldier's robe, which had been saturated in some oil from a lantern and was flaming, tumbled down upon the spot where I had fallen. My pursuers had done this to ascertain the depth of the chasm. The welcome light revealed to me that, instead of being in an abyss, I had been precipitated into a lower and larger cavern, the roof of which was hung with huge stalactites, glittering with prismatic fire, and of dimensions so enormous that the fitful glare did not reveal its opposite extremity. Fortunately, in my efforts to discover the extent of the weird place, I had advanced some little distance from the bottom of the pit, therefore my pursuers saw me not. "He hath vanished!" I heard one man cry. "Of a verity he is the Destroyer, the son of Anu, whom to attempt to capture is as futile as the endeavour to make water run up hill." "He sprang into the gulf, and disappeared like a spirit," cried another, as he peered over into the yawning chasm. "It was his intention that we should follow and be dashed to pieces on the rocks. His cry alone saved us." "Come," I heard another voice exclaim, "let us leave this noisome abode of Anu, or his hand may wither and destroy us as it destroyed the Temple of Sin." Soon the light died down to glowing tinder, and the voices, growing fainter, were quickly lost in distant echoes. I knew I was entombed. To search for any exit seemed hopeless. Nevertheless, with a supplication to Allah to lighten his servant's burdens, I tore a strip from my robe, unravelled it, and by blowing upon the glowing tinder, obtained a light for my torch. Then, having improvised several more torches in case of necessity, I started forward. On every side was a cavernous blackness, so large was the natural chamber into which I had fallen. Still I strove on, determined at least to ascertain its true dimensions. Presently I raised a loud shout, and listened. In a thousand distant echoes my voice came back, showing that the cavern was of wondrous extent. The ground was not uneven, though here and there were large masses of rock, thrown up, as if by the same earthquake as had formed the Lake of the Accursed, and, hurrying forward, I gazed about me to discover something in the impenetrable blackness on every hand. One fact alone gave me courage. The air was good, showing that somewhere was an outlet to the world above. Thus, with frantic effort, I struggled on, lighting a second torch, and keeping straight ahead, until at last, to my dismay, I was confronted by the damp wall of rock that formed the end of the cavern. Turning at right angles, I walked beside this wall to ascertain the width of the chamber, when, having proceeded about thirty paces, I discovered a fissure, or tunnel-like passage of considerable width, which led away into the deep gloom beyond. Determined, at least, to explore its length, I plunged into it, holding my torch high above my head. At first it descended slowly, then rose with gradual ascent, sometimes narrowing, at others widening, until I again came to a blank wall of rock. I had been deceived. It was a mere fantastic _cul-de-sac_. A moment's pause, then, turning with sinking heart, I retraced my steps a considerable distance until, just before I emerged into the great cavern again, I became aware of a second grotto leading out of the natural tunnel wherein I stood. This I had not before noticed, therefore, with eager steps, started forward to explore it. Here again the ground rose, but the cavern was spacious, and leading out of it was another grotto rising gradually and leading to a third, slightly narrower, through which I toiled for fully half-an-hour, burning the whole of my outer robe as torches, until by accident my light became entirely extinguished. Unable to rekindle it, I was plunged in darkness that could be felt. Striving on undaunted, however, my eager hands came at last in contact with a wall of rock before me; but, scarce had I made this dismaying discovery, ere I found that the subterranean burrow took a sudden turn at right angles, and again ascended sharply. To my surprise the rocky roof above me became just distinguishable. A grey light showed ghostly and indistinct. Then, a moment later, as I mounted the steep ascent, I saw, straight before me, the blessed light of day, and uttered a loud cry of relief and joy. In eagerness I sped forward, rushing out of the cave, the mouth of which was half choked by brushwood and brambles, to find that I had actually passed beneath the Lake of the Accursed, and was beyond the confines of the Land of the No Return. Only by a miracle had I escaped death. Of a verity Allah maketh abundant provision for such of his servants as he pleaseth, therefore I knelt to return thanks for my deliverance. My exit had been made at the edge of the forest, within actual sight of the towering Rock of the Moon-god, and having riveted its exact position upon my memory, I plucked some bananas and ate them, afterwards setting my face to the north on my long journey back to Kano. Following the directions given me by my lost friend Yakul, I searched for the track which he had told me ran through the great forest to Ipoto, and after some little difficulty discovered it; then, traversing it for many days amid the forest gloom, I at length reached the town he had named. To detail my journey northward is unnecessary. Ever pressing forward, and without meeting with much adventure, I swam the Ihourou river, and joining a party of traders, crossed the rocky country of the Mbelia, passing beneath the snowcapped summit of the mountain called Nai, eventually arriving at Niam-Niam. Here I was fortunate enough to fall in with a caravan bound for Katsena, within the Empire of the Sultan 'Othman; and three moons after my escape from Ea I experienced the delight of seeing the minarets and cupolas of Kano rise dark against the blood-red sunset. News I gained in Katsena, however, had caused me most intense anxiety. Although, as far as I could learn, no conspiracy against the Sultan had been attempted, yet I heard from Arab traders in the market-place that Azala, my beloved, was to be given as bride to the Khalifa, in order to further cement the friendship between Sokoto and the Eastern Soudan. It had been arranged months ago, before the Khalifa's return to Omdurman, and the date of Azala's departure for the east was already past. Therefore, in fear lest the woman I loved should have already left, under escort, to become bride of the brutal autocrat, I spurred forward over the desert to Kano. My first breathless question of the guards at the gate was of Azala. She had not left, they answered, but preparations were complete, and she would go forth, with a large armed escort, at noon on the morrow. Then I made sudden resolve, and entered the great Fada to boldly seek audience of the Sultan 'Othman, the ruler who had forbidden me to re-enter his Empire on pain of death. While passing beneath the high, sun-blanched wall of the harem, on my way to the Hall of Audience, I came face to face with the dwarf Tiamo, who, on beholding me whom he thought dead, stood petrified. When I had reassured him, he briefly explained how he had returned to Azala with news of my tragic end; how, overwhelmed by bitter grief, she had become careless of everything, even of her betrothal to the Khalifa. Hastily I scribbled a message of reassurance in Arabic to my well-beloved, and the impish little man hobbled away with it secreted in his gaudy sash, while I continued my way to crave speech with the autocrat. After many formalities, I was allowed to approach the divan, where he sat in his green silk robe, calmly smoking; but as I advanced his keen eyes recognised my face, and his brow darkened grimly. "Well?" he exclaimed in anger, as I bowed the knee before him. "What seekest thou? Have I not already expelled thee from this my kingdom?" "Yea, O Sultan," I answered. "But I would have a word with thee in private. I desire to impart unto thee a secret." "Of what?" he inquired, with a quick look of suspicion. "I have witnessed that which the eyes of men have never before beheld," I answered, "I have discovered the Land of the No Return!" The Sultan started up at my words, and the greatest sensation was created among his assembled court. For a moment Azala's father regarded me keenly; then, uttering a word, waved his hand, signifying his desire to speak with me in private. Instantly the crowd of courtiers, slaves, eunuchs and soldiers retired, and a few minutes later we were alone. "Well?" he exclaimed, pulling at his bejewelled pipe thoughtfully. "Explain unto me thy discovery." Seated on the mat before the royal divan, I told him the whole story; how Azala had rescued me; how I had reached his daughter a second time, and my strange quest at her instigation. When I mentioned the latter his brows knit severely, and displeasure was betrayed upon his dark face. Then I related the conversation between the two conspirators who were plotting to bring about the overthrow of Sokoto, explained how I had discovered the Rock of the Great Sin, and described the magnificence and enormous wealth of the kingdom of Ea. I told him of my adventures within the mysterious realm, of my captivity in the hands of Istar, and of the strange wall-picture of Semiramis. During an hour we conversed together; then, at last, I referred to Azala's forthcoming journey to Omdurman, and hazarded an opinion that she should not be united to one who was an enemy of his Empire. Upon my words he pondered deeply, slowly stroked his full, dark beard, but made no response. Then, not without trepidation, I offered a suggestion. It was that, in return for Azala's hand, I would lead his hosts by the secret way into Ea, and conquer that wealthy country, which could then be annexed to Sokoto. He reflected, apparently doubting my ability to lead an expedition of such magnitude; but after I had explained my previous experiences as a Dervish soldier, he at last accepted the terms of my offer, and very soon we had arranged the details. He would give me, he promised, twenty thousand men, armed with European rifles, together with all the cannon which had been captured in a recent campaign against the French, and the four Maxim guns and ammunition sent to him as a present a few months before by the Royal Niger Company. One condition I laid down was, that I might hold converse with Azala ere I set forth upon the hazardous undertaking. To this he raised no voice of dissent, therefore, later that evening, I spent a joyous hour with my well-beloved in the room I knew so well. To describe our meeting is unnecessary. Suffice it to say that, when she set eyes upon me, she burst into a torrent of tears. Long ago had she mourned for me as one who had lost his life in attempting to fulfil her wish, and could scarce believe her eyes when Tiamo had given her the scrap of paper with my message. I explained my discoveries, my ambitions, and the generous promise of the Sultan. Then, after a protracted interview, I bade her farewell until such time as I could claim her, and departed with her fond kiss warm upon my lips. That she watched the preparations hourly from her lattice I knew, but at sunrise, three days later, all being ready, I set forth at the head of the Sultan's army. Tiamo again came with me as body-servant, our journey over the deserts being of a far different character to when we had fled like thieves from Kano. With our green standards flying, and our bright arms and accoutrements glittering in the sun, ours was a brilliant cavalcade, every man intensely eager to view the mystic, unknown land of which story-tellers had told through countless ages. By forced marches we reached, within six weeks, the Rock of the Moon-god, our army augmented by thousands of black followers from Niam-Niam, and, on making careful reconnoissance, I soon discovered the natural, tunnel-like passage whence I had emerged on escaping from Ea. Taking with me a strong pioneer party, we thoroughly explored the huge caverns below, fixed lights in various parts, placed ladders against the wall of rock over which I had tumbled, and above, at the edge of the chasm, suspended strong ropes and pulleys for raising cannon, horses, and heavy material. This work occupied us four days, but when at length everything was complete, we found the entrance to the gallery too small to admit horses and guns. We therefore blew away the rock with some dynamite, procured long ago from the Niger traders, and without many mishaps passed through, and at last gained the fertile Land of the No Return. The eagerness of the soldiers of Sokoto and our pagan followers, who had joined us out of curiosity, to penetrate this strange, legendary land, knew no bounds, and the excitement on the first night we encamped upon the grass-plain rose to fever heat. I had sent forward trusty scouts, attired in the garments of citizens of Ea, copied from my own, lest we should fall into an ambush, and already had watchers secreted on the Mountains of the Mist, in full view of the city we were preparing to surprise. Well I knew the colossal strength of Ea, "the place with walls unbreakable," and when addressing the army after we had recited the sunset prayer that evening, I disguised not the fact that the struggle must be desperate. All were, however, undaunted. Each man announced his readiness to go forward, bent on conquest. CHAPTER FORTY THREE. DOOM. Our assault upon Ea was sudden and unexpected. Under cover of night we cautiously advanced on our last march, and having placed our guns in position, halted in readiness. From the high summit of the Temple of the Seven Lights the unquenchable Eye of Istar still streamed, white and brilliant. The giant city was ablaze with lights, as if for another festival, and at first sight of this colossal centre of a forgotten civilisation the soldiers, awestricken, feared that our expedition against such a gigantic fortress was foredoomed to failure. Before commencing the attack, however, I urged them to valiant deeds, repeating those words from our Koran which have given heart to Moslem armies ever since the days of the Prophet--"If there be a hundred of you that persevere with constancy, they shall overcome two hundred; and if there be a thousand of you they shall overcome two thousand, by the permission of Allah; for Allah is with those who persevere. It hath not been granted unto any prophet that he should possess captives until he had made a great slaughter of the infidels in the earth. Allah is mighty and wise." After many bows and genuflections, my companions rose, and, mounting, spurred forth, in readiness to their posts. In silence half-an-hour went by, when, by prearranged signal, six of the French guns loaded with explosive shell suddenly crashed forth, at the same instant, sending their deadly missiles right into the centre of the city, almost as far as Istar's palace. We listened. The sound of the explosions echoed weirdly among the misty heights above. With such infinite care had we approached that this signal was the first notification received by the people of Ea of the presence of enemies. The instant the cannons had roared forth, our great storming parties spurred across the plain to certain of the city gates, armed with engines for battering them in, and charges of dynamite for blowing them into air. So well guarded, however, were those gigantic walls that, ere our squadrons could reach the gates, they were assailed by withering showers of arrows and spears. Indeed, a moment after we had sent our first shells into the city, the high, frowning battlements seemed alive with defenders. Volleys of stones from ancient catapults were showered on every hand, while bowmen, from the slits in the flanking towers, discharged upon us a deadly arrow storm. Our black contingent, with their long bows and poisoned arrows, quickly turned their attention upon the archers of Ea. Expert marksmen these pagans were, and at this moment proved themselves of the utmost value. Each soldier who showed himself upon the high walls was picked off with an aim unerring by our archers, behind whom were the well-drilled soldiers of the Sultan making careful shots with their rifles, and away upon the high ground at the rear the cannons kept up their thunder, each shell bursting and spreading terrible devastation within the city. The constant explosion of shells and firearms appalled the defenders beyond measure, for this was their first knowledge of the art of modern warfare, and, as I afterwards learned, it was believed that because gunpowder was used by us that Anu himself, the dread god of Destruction, was directing us, and against him they were powerless. Nevertheless, the pugilistic spirit was still fierce within the hearts of those descendants of the valiant hosts of Semiramis, and they fought desperately for the defence of their capital and their goddess-queen. In the lurid glare, shed by the fires caused by our shells, we could discern huge, cranelike machines mounted on the walls, discharging at us arrows and volleys of stones, while other ancient mechanical contrivances emptied upon our scaling parties great caldrons of boiling pitch or water. Throughout that well-remembered night we kept up a continuous and galling hail of lead upon the city, but with little effect save that, time after time, we swept away hundreds of soldiers from the walls and caused conflagrations in every quarter, the majority of our force remaining safely beyond the narrow zone of the defender's fire. As dawn crept on, times without number our scaling parties attempted to fix their ladders of rope and cane, but on each occasion were hurled back, leaving many of their number dead or dying. The sun rose. Arrows and javelins fell thick and fast, while, from plain and hill, we poured a continuous and deadly shower of death-dealing missiles over those ponderous, time-worn walls. The hundred enormous brazen gates resisted every attempt of those of our men who dashed forward to batter them in. Their thickness and strength were colossal. Whole parties of the young and dauntless, who rushed across the plain up to the very walls, dark-faced and determined, were sometimes swept into eternity even to the last man, by the frightful showers of jagged arrows and sharp flint stones discharged from catapults. Noon came. The breathless hours passed but slowly. Hundreds of our soldiers and pagan followers were stretched dead, yet, with the exception of causing a few alarming conflagrations within the city, we seemed to achieve but little progress towards victory. Our ability to project our missiles to far greater distance than the defenders was of greatest advantage, and our losses in these earlier hours of the siege were never serious. Towards sundown, after a long and toilsome day, we decided to make a sudden and vigorous assault, with our advance covered by artillery in our rear. The military tactics of the soldiers of Sokoto were perhaps primitive as compared with European standards; nevertheless, our men, at the roll of the war drums, dashed forward in force to make a strenuous and frantic endeavour to enter the ancient, mysterious capital. Yet we met again an opposition so terrific that some of our squadrons fell back appalled, while others were literally riddled by arrows from the battlements. Long and valiantly we fought to batter down the gates or scale the walls, but without avail. Stones, bullets, spears and boiling liquids fell in showers upon us from every point. Many fell dead or mortally wounded upon the sand, and it appeared as though the remainder would be wiped out, until, with one accord, they beat a hasty retreat, followed by the cheers and yells of the defenders. This reverse almost disheartened us. Each moment the conflict increased in vigour. Although the soldiers of Ea possessed no firearms, the defence they made was of a character desperate and remarkable. From every point our guns blazed away with monotonous regularity, and our rifles flashed everywhere, yet we seemed not to effect the slightest impression upon that city of colossal strength. Every turret, every battlement, shed showers of arrows and sharp stones which inflicted terribly painful wounds, while, in reply, our pagan allies let loose their flights of poisoned darts with unerring and deliberate aim. Once an arrow struck me in the forearm, but, fortunately, inflicted only a slight wound; yet almost at the same moment Tiamo, who was standing beside me, unfortunately received another dart, which caught him full in the throat and stuck quivering there. Instantly I recognised the terrible nature of the wound, and knew it must prove fatal, as, alas! it did ere our savage assault terminated. Now that we had advanced within the range of the defender's fire, our loss of life was becoming serious. By the tragic end of the dwarf I had lost a sincere and genuine friend, and Azala a devoted slave. I had, however, but short space to keep beside him, as my presence was urgently required elsewhere. Therefore, with a few words of comfort, I was compelled to leave him and ascend to where the guns were thundering. The afterglow was burning in the sky, when, looking forward, I discerned, standing upon the wall, Istar herself, white-robed, with streaming, unbound hair. Her arms were upraised as if in the act of encouraging her men, and directing the defence. I chanced to be standing beside one of those deadly, rapid-firing guns captured from the French, and, as I looked, our gunners sighted their weapon. "See!" cried one. "That woman there! A little lower. Now!" Instantly the gun crashed forth. Next second there was a flash of fire upon the battlement where Istar had stood, and when the dust and smoke cleared a few moments later a breach in the wall showed that the shell had blown to atoms everything within its reach. It seemed absolutely certain that the woman who had held me captive must have been killed instantaneously. If she had escaped, it was little short of marvellous. Daylight faded, evening crept on, still our bombardment continued with unceasing vigour. None of us had appeased our hunger since long before dawn, and few had been able to snatch a draught from their waterskins. Darkness fell, and the stars appeared through the choking smoke clouds, clear cut as gems, when suddenly, to the astonishment of all, the long shaft of white light, kept burning night and day at the summit of the Temple of Love, increased in brilliancy, streaming over the city and plain. Our enemies now used it as a search-light, such as I had seen on the battleships in the bay of Algiers, and thus were they enabled to narrowly watch our movements. Nevertheless, we were able after considerable effort to outwit them, for, the fire from the walls having slackened as darkness prevailed, we sent a large body again forward, our reinforcements standing formed up in a huge square in readiness. The squadron sent as pioneers were all picked men, who, like myself, had seen battle in many parts of Africa, and were determined to bring matters to a crisis. Quickly and noiselessly they sped forth, and were lost in the darkness. While our main body harassed the defenders and kept them fully engaged, these men worked their way silently towards the great gate through which my captors had led me when I had been taken prisoner. Fully half-an-hour elapsed without a sign. Standing, with eyes strained in the direction they had taken, I began to fear they had met with disaster. Indeed, I had already given orders to two scouts to ride forward and bring back report, when suddenly there was a bright, blinding flash. The very earth was shaken by a terrific, deafening explosion, followed instantly by a second report which awakened the echoes of the mountains far and wide. Almost the next moment a great tongue of flame shot up behind the city wall, revealing the reassuring fact that the gate, with its huge flanking towers manned by hundreds of the defenders, had been entirely demolished, and that a great fire had been started. Loud, exultant shouts rose from every throat when this truth became realised. Our war-drums rolled loudly, our heavy guns were silenced, and instantly, ten thousand well-armed and valiant men dashed forward to spring through the breach and enter the gigantic city. I headed them, but at the ruins of the gate we found that half the number of the brave ones who had so effectively used the dynamite had been slaughtered, and that a huge, compact body of troops had massed within, determined to resist our advance. Hence we were compelled to fight hand-to-hand, while engines of war, like the ancient mangonels and ballistae, worked over our heads, laying us low by dozens. A hundred stratagems we had already practised, but to no avail, therefore, we determined upon taking the city by sheer force. In numbers, we were vastly inferior to the defenders, but sight of our firearms held them terrified. The _melee_ among the heaped ruins of that ponderous gate was frightful. Bigotry, revenge, love of loot, and all the voices that unite to hurry men to evil, pressed us forward at this crisis time. Veterans, who had fought in all the desperate battles with the French towards the Niger bank, and away beyond Lake Tsad, were not to be disheartened. They were desperate and furious. Still the defenders held out. Their ranks presented the appearance of a wall of lowered spears. While we strove on, fearing that this last bold venture might fail, a loud rattling like musketry sounded in front of us. Instantly I knew the truth. One of our Maxim guns had at last been brought into play. The effect of that most deadly of modern weapons was appalling. Thrice it spat out its leaden hail, sweeping along the lines of spearmen from end to end. Then, with loud, fierce yells of triumph, we poured into the city over the heaps of bullet-riddled bodies, fighting amid a chaos of writhing limbs, gashed faces and bleeding, trampled humanity. Thus, we at last passed the high masses of Babylonian masonry, which had once seemed so dark, sheer and impregnable, and dashed forward into the mystic capital of Ea, engaging the defenders hand-to-hand in every hole and corner, while our comrades, having witnessed our success, sped on after us great bodies of reinforcements, against whom it was impossible for either citizens or soldiers to struggle. The darkness of night was dispelled by the red glare of the fires, as the incendiary's brand was applied to wooden structures, while the curses of the vanquished mingled with wails of the dying and shouts of the victors. The carnage was frightful. After an hour's desperate street fighting, during which time my garments were torn from off my back in shreds, the defenders began to cry for quarter, but, although we granted it, our black allies, drunk with the frenzy of battle, refused to show mercy, and hundreds of those who had defended their homes so bravely were impaled by spears, or laid low by poisoned darts. Many were the ghastly scenes I witnessed, as, amid that terrible massacre of the vanquished, we pressed on in force towards the dazzling House of the Raising of the Head. Again we met with a determined opposition, which cost us considerable loss ere we could break it down and ascend the long flight of steps to the palace itself. On gaining the top, I rushed forward, at the head of the storming party, into the great pavilion, with its sculptured walls, and was amazed to find it deserted. Alone, I dashed away across court after court, until I reached the entrance of the great hall, wherein stood the crystal throne. Without ceremony I tore aside the heavy curtain and entered. Istar, who had, by some almost miraculous circumstance, escaped destruction on the city-wall, was lounging upon her seat of royalty, her beautiful face pale as death, her teeth firm set, and in her eyes a look of unutterable dread. All her brilliant court had deserted her and fled, leaving her alone to face her enemies. As I entered, her gaze met mine, and she rose to her feet with slow hauteur. I advanced to seize her, but, raising her shapely, trembling hand, she screamed, "Stand back, thou son of Anu! Stand back!" "Thou art now my captive!" I shouted, halting an instant before ascending the steps of polished silver. She clenched her teeth, held her breath, and trembled. With a quick movement, she raised her left hand and placed it against her velvet cheek. Next instant, I saw a tiny streak of blood trickle down upon the strings of jewels which adorned her neck. Then, horrified, I noticed that in her hand there writhed a small black asp of the most venomous species. She had placed its flat head against her cheek and deliberately allowed it to bite her. "What hast thou done?" I cried, aghast. "I, Istar, will never be taken captive!" she answered, with imperious gesture. "Thou hast brought thine accursed hosts within my kingdom, broken down my walls, burnt the Temple of Baal, and entered this my palace to sack it and break down the foundation-stones of my fathers. Therefore thou shalt, at least, have no satisfaction in securing me." She swayed slightly, and from her grasp the small reptile wriggled and fell upon the polished pavement, hissing viciously. I knew she was doomed, and made a movement to ascend the steps. "Ah! don't touch me!" she shrieked wildly, her wealth of unbound hair falling in profusion about her shoulders. "Canst thou not see that the asp's poison is fatal?" she gasped hoarsely, her face, with its ugly streak of blood, a ghastly hue. "Anu hath seized my kingdom. Merodach hath forsaken me. See!" she cried with difficulty, reeling and clutching for support at the arm of her glittering throne. "See! I leave thee! The word of the prophet--is fulfilled!" Her thin, blanched lips moved, but no further sound escaped them. Her face was drawn and haggard, her limbs were convulsed by icy shiverings, and her bejewelled fingers, hitching themselves in her filmy garments, tore them in a paroxysm of pain as the deadly venom throbbed through her blue veins. She glared at me with a ferocity that showed how desperate she was. But only for a moment. Her nerveless hand refused to support her, and, staggering forward unevenly, she suddenly threw up her shapely arms, with a wild, shrill shriek, and fell heavily forward upon the pavement before the ancient throne of Babylon's queen. I dashed up to where she had fallen, and, bending, raised her fair head and placed my hand upon her white scarred breast. Her heart had ceased its beating. Istar, the direct descendant of Semiramis, the beautiful woman worshipped as goddess and queen, was dead. I rose and stood gazing upon her lifeless, prostrate form. Horror held me dumb. Yet I was conqueror of the most ancient and remarkable city in the world. CHAPTER FORTY FOUR. THE TALISMAN. With lightning speed the news of Istar's death spread from mouth to mouth throughout Ea, and all opposition to our occupation quickly ceased. Priests, eunuchs, populace and soldiery regarded our entry, and the death of their goddess-queen, as the fulfilment of the dreaded curse of Anu, and openly declared that to fight against the decree of the great Destroyer, supreme on earth, was utterly futile. Hence the Moslem hosts, acknowledging me as leader, poured into every part of the once-impregnable city, and proceeded to seek suitable quarters in the best residences and in the House of the Raising of the Head, the wonders of which held them entranced. During the first few hours the soldiers of the Sultan, with that inborn love of loot which has characterised every Arab man-at-arms since the days of the Prophet, sacked the houses of the wealthy, and would have wrecked the palace of Istar had I not taken precautions, threatening that any discovered pilfering would be cast into the lion-pit without ado. By dint of most strenuous exertion I thus managed to preserve the palace intact, but our negro allies, on entering the city, intoxicated by success, had at once become entirely beyond control, and I fear that many citizens and their property fared badly at their pagan hands. As soon as I had arranged for an efficient guard in every hall throughout the great palace, and had taken precautions to confine the soldiers of Ea in one quarter of the city, lest they should return to resume the defensive, I ascended to the Temple of Love, and there, in presence of three of my chief officers, extinguished that great light called the Eye of Istar, as sign of my complete conquest of Queen and people. The seething populace of Ea, when they saw that the light which had burned uninterruptedly for ages no longer shone, regarded its failure as sign that Shamas and Merodach had for ever forsaken them, and that city and people had, by Istar's death, been given over to the designs of Anu, the dreaded, and his evil hosts. They remained inert, cowed, trembling. The luxurious Temple of Love, with its worn statue of the goddess, presented the same appearance as it had done on that memorable night after the Feast of Tammuz, when the Queen slept while I had watched in silence. Her couch, with its purple cushions, was tumbled, as if she had recently lain there, and the fresh offerings of food and wine at the foot of the statue showed that votaries had recently ascended to prostrate themselves in conformity with the rigid law of Semiramis. Leaning over the balustrade, I stood gazing down in wonder at the magnificence of the city I had conquered, and watching the breaking of the dawn. Paper being brought at my command, I sat down and wrote a report to the Sultan, urging him to come and witness his mysterious, newly-acquired possession, and at the same time claiming Azala's hand. To my well-beloved also I wrote a message of affection, and these I dispatched in charge of six trusty messengers, who had acted as scouts, with orders to speed on the wings of haste back to Kano. As I again looked down upon the terraces and courts an imam from the Fada at Kano came forward, and placing himself at my side, raised his arms and uttered, in a firm, loud voice, our call to prayer. Thus, for the first time in the history of Ea, was the Temple of the Seven Lights used as mosque, and the name of Allah uttered from its high minaret. Thrice he shouted, with all his might, those well-known words which cause the Faithful to bend the knee towards the Holy City wherever they may be, and the soldiers lounging about the courts below, hearing it, prostrated themselves and recited their thanks to the One Merciful with heartfelt fervency. Verily Allah is endued with indulgence towards mankind; but the greater part of them are not thankful. At first, as representative of the Sultan, there was much to occupy me; but the people, finding our rule unoppressive, quickly became well-disposed towards us, and soon, the defenders being disarmed, my task was rendered easy. Then day followed day--bright, sunny, indolent, never-to-be-forgotten days of waiting in patience for the coming of the Sultan. The high-priests of the Temple of the Seven Lights undertook the obsequies of their dead Queen, which they carried out with great pomp and ceremony, the body being carried by twelve vestal virgins to the summit of the tower and there cremated, the ashes being afterwards cast to the winds amid the singing of hymns to the Moon-god and much weeping and wailing. Still, the fact that upon my breast was a mark exactly identical with the one she had borne puzzled me, and during the long period of waiting for the arrival of the Sultan 'Othman I used every endeavour to discover some elucidation of the mystery. Soon I grew impatient, and ofttimes wandered alone through the magnificent courts, plunged deep in oppressive thoughts. The non-arrival of the Sultan caused me serious apprehension that, during our absence, the Khalifa had attacked Kano. If so, I feared for the safety of Azala. To distract my attention from the one subject which occupied me both by night and by day I applied myself diligently to the study of the gigantic wall-sculptures and inscriptions, and succeeded in deciphering some exceedingly interesting records of the luxury in which lived Semiramis and her successors. The treasures we discovered within the palace were enormous. Jewels of great price, which had belonged to the founder of Babylon herself, golden ornaments of every kind, many of that antique design shown in the wall-pictures, dishes and drinking-vessels of gold, golden armour, bejewelled breastplates, and swords with hilts set with magnificent gems were stored in great profusion in the spacious vaults below the palace, while the ornaments worn by priests, priestesses and high functionaries in the daily exercise of their religious duties, were all of amazing worth. Besides these treasures of gems and gold, we discovered a vault filled to overflowing with the records of the dead monarchs of Ea, cylinders and square cakes of sun-dried clay, with cuneiform inscriptions impressed upon them by the hands of scribes who had lived three thousand years ago. In later centuries it appeared that a kind of papyrus had been used by the inhabitants of this world-forgotten kingdom, nevertheless, all the earlier records had been impressed upon clay or chipped on stones in like manner to those discovered beneath the mounds where once stood the giant cities of Nineveh and Babylon. Through many weeks I occupied myself with them, the result of my investigations having been recently given to the world in the form of two substantial volumes published in Paris. One day, while engaged in translating a record of the historic victory of Semiramis over the Ethiopians, neatly impressed upon a hollow cylinder of white clay, the commander of the guard entered hastily with the glad tidings that the cavalcade of the Sultan was actually within sight, and half-an-hour later I received the great 'Othman and his daughter in the glittering throne-room where first I had encountered the Queen whose beauty had been amazing. The Sultan's reception was wildly enthusiastic. War-drums rolled, the conquering green banners of Al-Islam waved in the brilliant sunshine, and the soldiers of Sokoto, who had fought so valiantly, were cheered again and again by the great escort of their autocratic ruler. Even the vanquished citizens of Ea lost their sullenness, and having found our rule beneficent and devoid of the harsh oppression they had anticipated, united in applauding the conqueror. Amid ringing cheers he entered the magnificent hall wherein the luxurious Istar had held sway, and, greeting him at the steps of the throne, I motioned to him to ascend to the royal seat of prismatic crystal. This he did, and in obedience to his desire, Azala and myself followed, standing by him at either hand. Then, when quiet had, with difficulty, been restored, he addressed those present in congratulatory terms, thanking Allah for the success of our arms, and turning to myself, publicly declared me worthy the hand of his daughter Azala. This announcement was followed by thunders of applause. Outside, firearms were discharged, cannons roared, and news of our betrothal spread away into every corner of the city. When again the Sultan could obtain a hearing, he added that, having discovered this mysterious kingdom hitherto unknown, it was but just that its rule should be given into my hands. Henceforward, he said, I was Governor of Ea, and as soon as arrangements could be made for fitting marriage festivity I should be wedded to Azala. Advancing to the woman I loved, we clasped hands joyously, and her eyes met mine with an expression full of tender passion. Then, turning to the Sultan, I acknowledged his gracious bounty, and declared that now I had Azala at my side I would spend the remainder of my life in his service as Governor of this new, far-removed portion of his Empire. Azala, too, in musical voice, trembling slightly with emotion, declared that I had successfully fought a fight that few would have attempted, and others united to heap praise upon me of so laudatory a character that I confess to entertaining a desire for its cessation. After a protracted audience, the Sultan made sign that he wished to be alone, and when all had withdrawn, except my betrothed and myself, he turned to me, saying-- "Of a verity, Zafar, thou hast fought a valiant fight. Strange it is that thou returnest to that which is thine own." "How?" I inquired, puzzled at his words. "Thou bearest the Mark of the Asps," he answered. "The same symbol was borne by Istar," I said. "I discovered it while she slept." "Upon my breast also is the mark," Azala observed. "The mysterious emblem hath, of course, puzzled thee," the Sultan said, smiling as he addressed me. "Azala hath ofttimes asked its meaning, but I have rendered no explanation until now. Because thou art betrothed unto my daughter, it is but fitting that I should make explanation. Thou hast witnessed the symbol upon the foundation-stone of Semiramis, and I have to-day learned that Istar, as represented in image at the summit of the Seven Lights, beareth in her hand the asps entwined. The Mark of the Asps is the Babylonian sign of royal sonship, the symbol with which the first-born of every ruler since Semiramis hath been branded." "But how came I to bear the mark?" I inquired, eagerly. "Thou hast heard the oft-repeated story of the man who, long ages ago, before the great earthquake, succeeded in eluding the vigilance of the guards at the Rock of the Great Sin, and escaped into our world." "Yea. I have often pondered deeply over that legendary tale," I replied. "It was no legend," he asserted. "One man did actually escape from Ea. He was son of the reigning queen, and bore upon his breast a mark identical with thine. Far and wide he travelled over the Great Desert, and obeying the injunction of his ancestor, seared with a white-hot iron the mystic symbol upon his eldest son. Thus through many generations was the Mark of the Asps placed upon the breast of the eldest child of either sex, until a legend became rife that ill would befall the family if that mark were not impressed. For ages the practice, descended from father to child, until it came to thy father, who branded thee." "My father!" I cried. "Surely he was not a lineal descendant of the Queens of Ea!" "He was. Thy father and myself were brothers, but early in life we parted in Constantine, I to the south, where I met with many adventures, becoming commander-in-chief of the army of Sokoto, and subsequently being placed upon the royal divan as Sultan. Some years after parting with thy father I heard that he was dead, and, unaware that he had a son, I, desiring to perpetuate the family legend, impressed upon the breast of Azala the mark that thou hast witnessed." "Then it is now easy to account for thine amazement at finding the mark upon the breast of myself, thy captive in Kano," I observed, smiling. "I had never dreamed of thine existence, and as it was alleged that evil would accrue if the mark of royalty were placed on any but the person entitled to it, I banished thee, in fear, from my kingdom," he replied. "After I had sent thee out of Sokoto I became seized with regret, and used every endeavour to rediscover thee, but without avail. Meanwhile, it seemeth that thou wert beloved of thy cousin Azala, and wert striving to elucidate the mystery. Thine efforts have at last been crowned by success, and assuredly the expressions of good-will I have uttered towards thee are genuine." "I accept them," I answered, amazed at this unexpected revelation. "Thou art brother of my father, and I thy nephew." "It is but just that thou shouldst rule over Ea," Azala said, laughing joyously, after she had explained that the marvels she had revealed in Kano in order to impress me were produced, as I had suspected, by mechanical means. "The mark was branded upon me under the misapprehension that thou didst not exist. But in thee, the Unknown, I have found a husband; and Ea, thine estate by right, a conqueror and ruler." "Hast thou still an amulet thy father gavest unto thee before his death?" the Sultan asked, presently. "I have," I answered, placing my hand beneath my silken robe, and drawing therefrom the small bag of soft kid-skin I had worn for years suspended, with other talismans, about my neck. "Open it, and let us gaze upon it." I obeyed, and drew from the well-worn charm-case a small, cylindrical seal of chalcedony. It was of ancient design, like those discovered by Layard, the Englishman, in the mounds at Nimroud, about the length of the little finger, semi-transparent and blue almost as the morning sky, drilled from end to end with a hole, to allow its suspension from the neck. "Yea," said the Sultan, taking it from my hand, and examining it with greatest care. "Thou hast truly preserved intact the relic which hath been in our family through countless generations. Now will I reveal unto thee its strange secret." "What secret doth it contain?" I asked, glancing at it eagerly. "Upon it are words," he answered, "but so minute is the inscription that only by placing it in the sun's rays, and watching the shadows, can the inequalities of its surface be detected. Come hither." He rose, and we followed him across the great, empty hall to where the sunlight streamed full through an aperture in the high, gilded roof. Then, placing the cylinder upon a small, golden stool, inlaid with amethysts, that Istar had used as a table, he told me to examine it and say what words were thereon inscribed. At first I could detect nothing, but presently, by placing it at a certain angle, I could detect that its surface was entirely covered by an inscription in cuneiform character, so minute that none would dream of its existence. Only by allowing the sun's rays to fall at a certain angle across the blue stone could the tiny rows of arrowheads be deciphered, but after a long examination, with the Sultan and Azala eagerly gazing over my shoulder, I was at length enabled to gain the knowledge it imparted. The first portion of the ancient inscription was a brief supplication, in the picturesque language of Assyria, to Istar, Goddess of Love, followed by a statement that the stone itself was the talisman of Semiramis, founder of Babylon, who had decreed that her son should bear the royal mark upon his breast in such a form as should be indelible, and that the firstborn of the royal line should be branded in the same manner by an iron heated until it glowed white. There was a tiny sketch of the symbol, together with full directions as to the manner in which the flesh must be seared, and the whole concluded with an exhortation to Merodach to preserve the bearer of the talisman, and a fervent prayer to Baal, head-father and creator of the universe. At the end was the signature of some scribe, and appended the seal of Semiramis herself. This strange historic talisman had, I recollected, been carried by my father in all his travels, and on his deathbed he had bequeathed it to me, with strict injunctions never to part with it, as it secured its wearer immunity from disease or violent death. Around my neck I had carried it through all the fights against the English in the Soudan, and during all the long and toilsome journeys which I have related. Now it had explained to me a secret so strange that, without its unimpeachable evidence, I could never have credited the truth. Again and again I re-read the curious inscription, graven by a hand that must have crumbled into dust more than four thousand years ago; then, witnessing Azala's great interest in it, I tenderly placed my hand around her jewel-begirt waist and kissed her. The Sultan smiled benignly, and telling me to mount the steps, and seat myself upon the crystal throne that was my birthright, he gave orders for the curtains to be drawn aside so that those assembled might witness the high position to which I had been exalted. The Sultan, again mounting the steps of polished silver, addressed the brilliantly attired crowd, explaining briefly that I was the direct descendant of the founder of that kingdom; that upon my breast I bore the mystic Mark of the Asps; and that, in my hand, I held the long-lost talisman of Semiramis, which ages ago had been carried away to the outer world by the adventurous son of Istar who made his escape and never returned. It was, he declared, but meet that I should occupy the crystal throne whereon had lounged the languid, luxurious queens through so many centuries, a statement which won the loud and long-continued plaudits of the multitude. CHAPTER FORTY FIVE. CONCLUSION. That night I wandered through the ancient, gigantic palace, hand-in-hand with my well-beloved, pointing out its many marvels, explaining the curious inscriptions upon its colossal foundation-stones, and, taking her to the summit of the Temple of the Seven Lights, showed her the giant city by night. Happy were we in each other's love; yet happier still when, seven days later, amid feasting and merry-making, that was continued throughout a whole moon, we were made man and wife. Our rule has, I believe, found favour with the people. We fear not invasion nor rebellion, because our impregnable country is still the Land of the No Return, at any moment when we choose to block the one single gate by which it may be entered. As Prince of Ea I have complete control of its ancient treasures, and at Azala's instigation have sent many wall-sculptures, and other relics of interest, to various national museums in the European capitals. To Paris I sent a colossal block of black stone, strangely sculptured, representing the great feast held by Semiramis after she had built the walls of Ea, which she declared unbreakable. To Vienna we dispatched the stone, triangular altar of the Fire-god, Gibil, which stood at the entrance of the House of Lustre. To Berlin went a conical stone, bearing a beautiful hymn to Baal in well-preserved cuneiform character; and to the British Museum, in London, an institution to which my father had sent many relics he had collected, I presented a collection of ancient gems, among them being the little chalcedony cylinder, in order that all should be enabled to inspect the strange heirloom, the possession of which led to the discovery of a long-forgotten civilisation. The visitor to England's national collection of antiquities may discover it in the Assyrian Room, reposing upon its tiny cushion of purple velvet, fashioned from the papakha of the Goddess of Love, the couch of Istar, a mute relic of one of the greatest monarchs the world has ever known. Before it a neat black tablet, with gold lettering, gives a translation of the injunction regarding the placing on the breast of the first-born the device known as the Mark of the Asps, together with a statement as to its date. Many, perhaps, have seen it during the past twelve months, but none know its real history, which I have here written for the first time. After reading this record they may possibly linger before the case containing it a trifle longer, and reflect upon the curious chain of incidents which caused the ragged, wandering Dervish, who carried it forgotten in his charm-case, to become ruler of a land the existence of which was hitherto unknown, and to secure as wife the sweetest woman his eyes had ever beheld. With Azala as my wife, mine is a life of happiness unalloyed. Of a verity ours is a rose-garden of peace. The only murmur of discontent ever heard within our kingdom is because the shaft of white brilliance no longer shines to remind the vanquished of the cruel but beautiful queen they idolised as Goddess of Love, and to give them promise of freedom from the Moslem yoke. But the light that had shone on uninterruptedly through forty centuries has never burned since that memorable night when I quenched it, and never will again. Its extinguishment was emblematic of my complete conquest of the Land of the No Return. I have closed for all time the ever-vigilant Eye of Istar. The End. 
60328	----	[Illustration: Book Cover] [Illustration: MAP OF CENTRAL AFRICA] [Illustration] THE BOY TRAVELLERS ON THE CONGO ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY WITH HENRY M. STANLEY "THROUGH THE DARK CONTINENT" By THOMAS W. KNOX AUTHOR OF "THE BOY TRAVELLERS IN THE FAR EAST" "IN SOUTH AMERICA" AND "IN RUSSIA" "THE YOUNG NIMRODS" "THE VOYAGE OF THE 'VIVIAN'" ETC. Illustrated NEW YORK HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 1888 By THOMAS W. KNOX. * * * * * THE BOY TRAVELLERS IN THE FAR EAST. Five Volumes. Copiously Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $3.00 each. The volumes sold separately. Each volume complete in itself. I. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY TO JAPAN AND CHINA. II. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY TO SIAM AND JAVA. With Descriptions of Cochin China, Cambodia, Sumatra, and the Malay Archipelago. III. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY TO CEYLON AND INDIA. With Descriptions of Borneo, the Philippine Islands, and Burmah. IV. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY TO EGYPT AND PALESTINE. V. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY THROUGH AFRICA. THE BOY TRAVELLERS IN SOUTH AMERICA. Adventures of Two Youths in a Journey through Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Brazil, Paraguay, Argentine Republic, and Chili; with Descriptions of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, and Voyages upon the Amazon and La Plata Rivers. Copiously Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $3.00. THE BOY TRAVELLERS IN THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE. Adventures of Two Youths in a Journey in European and Asiatic Russia, with Accounts of a Tour across Siberia, Voyages on the Amoor, Volga, and other Rivers, a Visit to Central Asia, Travels Among the Exiles, and a Historical Sketch of the Empire from its Foundation to the Present Time. Copiously Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $3.00. THE BOY TRAVELLERS ON THE CONGO. Adventures of Two Youths in a Journey with Henry M. Stanley "Through the Dark Continent." Copiously Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $3.00. THE VOYAGE OF THE "VIVIAN" TO THE NORTH POLE AND BEYOND. Adventures of Two Youths in the Open Polar Sea. Copiously Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $2.50. HUNTING ADVENTURES ON LAND AND SEA. Two Volumes. Copiously Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $2.50 each. The volumes sold separately. Each volume complete in itself. I. THE YOUNG NIMRODS IN NORTH AMERICA. II. THE YOUNG NIMRODS AROUND THE WORLD. * * * * * PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. _Any of the above volumes sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price._ * * * * * Copyright, 1887, by HARPER & BROTHERS.--_All rights reserved._ PREFACE As indicated on the title-page, "The Boy Travellers on the Congo" is condensed from that remarkable narrative, "Through the Dark Continent," by one of the most famous explorers that the century has produced. The origin of the present volume is sufficiently explained in the following letter: "EVERETT HOUSE, NEW YORK, _December_ 1, 1886. "MY DEAR COLONEL KNOX,--It is a gift to be able to write to interest boys, and no one who has read your several volumes in the 'Boy Traveller' series can doubt that you possess this gift to an eminent degree. While reading those interesting and valuable books of yours, I have regretted that they were not issued in the time of my own youth, so that I might have enjoyed as a boy the treat of their perusal. Now, the Harpers desire a condensation of my two volumes, 'Through the Dark Continent,' to be made for young folks, but I have neither the time, nor the experience in juvenile writing, for performing the work. I suggest that you shall produce a volume for your series of 'Boy Travellers,' and assure you that it would delight me greatly to have you take your boys, who have followed you through so many lands, on the journey that I made from Zanzibar to the mouth of the Congo. "There is too much in my work in its present form for their mental digestion; but, narrated in that chaste and forcible style which has proved so entertaining to them, they would certainly find the journey through Africa of exceeding interest when made in your company. By all means take Frank and Fred to the wilds of Africa; let them sail the equatorial lakes, travel through Uganda, Unyoro, and other countries ruled by dark-skinned monarchs, descend the magnificent and perilous Congo, see the strange tribes and people of that wonderful land, and repeat the adventures and discoveries that made my journey so eventful. You have my full permission, my dear friend, to use the material in any way you deem proper in adapting it to the requirements of the 'Boy Travellers.' "Sincerely yours, as always, HENRY M. STANLEY. "TO COLONEL THOS. W. KNOX." The preparation of this book has been a double pleasure--first, to comply with the wishes of an old friend, and secondly, to carry the boys and girls of the present day to the wonderful region that, until very recently, was practically unknown. I have the fullest confidence that they will greatly enjoy the journey across equatorial Africa from the eastern to the western sea, and eagerly peruse every line of Mr. Stanley's narrative of discovery and adventure. The portrait of Mr. Stanley is from a photograph taken early in 1886. The maps on the inside of the covers were specially drawn for this work, and the publishers, with their customary liberality, have allowed the use of wood-cuts selected from several volumes of African travel and exploration, in addition to those which originally appeared in "Through the Dark Continent." In the hope that "The Boy Travellers on the Congo" will be as cordially received as were its predecessors in the series, the work is herewith submitted to press and public for perusal and comment. T. W. K. NEW YORK, _May_, 1887. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. CROSSING THE ATLANTIC OCEAN WITH STANLEY.--"THROUGH THE DARK CONTINENT."--AN IMPROMPTU GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY.--PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF STANLEY.--COMMENTS UPON HIM BY FRANK AND FRED.--HOW THE GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY WAS ORGANIZED.--READING STANLEY'S BOOK.--STANLEY'S DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND FOR ZANZIBAR.--JOINT ENTERPRISE OF TWO NEWSPAPERS.--PREPARATIONS FOR THE EXPEDITION.--THE "LADY ALICE."--BARKER AND THE POCOCKS.--ZANZIBAR.--PRINCE BARGHASH.--INHABITANTS OF ZANZIBAR.--THE WANGWANA. Page 13 CHAPTER II. TRANSPORTATION IN AFRICA.--MEN AS BEASTS OF BURDEN.--PORTERS, AND THEIR PECULIARITIES.--ENGAGING MEN FOR THE EXPEDITION.--A "SHAURI."--TROUBLES WITH THE "LADY ALICE."--AGREEMENT BETWEEN STANLEY AND HIS MEN.--DEPARTURE FROM ZANZIBAR.--BAGAMOYO.--THE UNIVERSITIES MISSION.--DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.--DIFFICULTIES WITH THE PORTERS.--SUFFERINGS ON THE MARCH.--NATIVE SUSPENSION BRIDGES.--SHOOTING A ZEBRA.--LOSSES BY DESERTION. 32 CHAPTER III. RETARDED BY RAINS AND OTHER MISHAPS.--GENERAL DESPONDENCY.--DEATH OF EDWARD POCOCK.--A CHANGE FOR THE BETTER.--A LAND OF PLENTY.--ARRIVAL AT VICTORIA LAKE.--NATIVE SONG.--AFLOAT ON THE GREAT LAKE.--TERRIBLE TALES OF THE INHABITANTS.--ENCOUNTERS WITH THE NATIVES.--THE VICTORIA NILE.--RIPON FALLS.--SPEKE'S EXPLORATIONS.--THE ALEXANDRA NILE.--ARRIVAL AT KING MTESA'S COURT.--A MAGNIFICENT RECEPTION.--IN THE MONARCH'S PRESENCE.--STANLEY'S FIRST OPINIONS OF MTESA. 53 CHAPTER IV. PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF KING MTESA.--HIS RECEPTION OF MR. STANLEY.--A NAVAL REVIEW.--STANLEY'S MARKSMANSHIP.--THE KING'S PALACE.--RUBAGA, THE KING'S CAPITAL.--RECEPTION AT THE PALACE.--MEETING COLONEL LINANT DE BELLEFONDS.--CONVERTING MTESA TO CHRISTIANITY.--APPEAL FOR MISSIONARIES TO BE SENT TO MTESA.--DEPARTURE FOR USUKUMA.--FIGHT WITH THE NATIVES AT BUMBIREH ISLAND.--SUFFERINGS OF STANLEY AND HIS COMPANIONS ON LAKE VICTORIA.--A NARROW ESCAPE.--RETURN TO KAGEHYI.--DEATH OF FRED BARKER.--EMBARKING THE EXPEDITION.--KING LUKONGEH AND HIS PEOPLE. 76 CHAPTER V. DEPARTURE FOR REFUGE ISLAND.--ARRIVAL IN UGANDA.--MTESA AT WAR.--STANLEY JOINS HIM AT RIPON FALLS.--A NAVAL BATTLE ON AN AFRICAN LAKE.--THE WAGANDA REPULSED.--CAPTURE OF A WAVUMA CHIEF.--STANLEY SAVES THE CHIEF'S LIFE.--HOW STANLEY BROUGHT THE WAR TO AN END.--HIS WONDERFUL MACHINE FOR DESTROYING THE WAVUMA.--RETIREMENT OF THE ARMY.--STANLEY'S RETURN TO HIS CAMP.--EXPEDITION TO MUTA NZEGE.--HOW IT FAILED.--THE EXPEDITION MARCHES SOUTHWARD.--IN KING RUMANIKA'S COUNTRY.--ARAB TRADERS IN AFRICA.--HAMED IBRAHIM.--KAFURRO AND LAKE WINDERMERE.--INTERVIEWS WITH KING RUMANIKA.--EXPLORING LAKE WINDERMERE.--AN UNHAPPY NIGHT.--IHEMA ISLAND. 102 CHAPTER VI. STANLEY TELLS ABOUT KING RUMANIKA.--THE KARAGWÉ GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY.--THE KING'S TREASURE-HOUSE.--GOOD-BYE TO HIS MAJESTY.--HOSTILITY BETWEEN ELEPHANT AND RHINOCEROS.--PLUNDERED IN USUI.--THE SOURCES OF THE ALEXANDRA NILE.--RETROSPECTION.-- QUESTIONS OF TOPOGRAPHY.--INSOLENCE OF MANKORONGO.--DEATH OF "BULL."--TROUBLES WITH THE PETTY KINGS.--INTERVIEW WITH THE FAMOUS MIRAMBO.--GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE RENOWNED AFRICAN.--AN IMPOSING CEREMONY.--BLOOD-BROTHERHOOD.--HOW GRANT'S CARAVAN WAS PLUNDERED.--MYONGA'S THREATS.--A COMPROMISE.--AMONG THE WATUTA.--IN SIGHT OF LAKE TANGANIKA.-- ARRIVAL AT UJIJI. 124 CHAPTER VII. MR. STANLEY TAKES THE CHAIR.--DESCRIPTION OF UJIJI.--THE ARAB AND OTHER INHABITANTS.--MARKET SCENES.--LOCAL CURRENCY.--THE WAJIJI.--LAKE TANGANIKA.--STANLEY'S VOYAGE ON THE LAKE.--RISING OF THE WATERS.--THE LEGEND OF THE WELL.--HOW THE LAKE WAS FORMED.--DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.--SCENERY OF THE COAST.-- MOUNTAINS WHERE THE SPIRITS DWELL.--SEEKING THE OUTLET OF THE LAKE.--THE LUKUGA RIVER.--EXPERIMENTS TO FIND A CURRENT.--CURIOUS HEAD-DRESSES.--RETURN TO UJIJI.--LENGTH AND EXTENT OF LAKE TANGANIKA. 152 CHAPTER VIII. STANLEY CONTINUES THE READING.--BAD NEWS AT UJIJI.--SMALL-POX AND ITS RAVAGES.--DESERTIONS BY WHOLESALE.--DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.--CROSSING LAKE TANGANIKA.--TRAVELLERS' TROUBLES.-- TERRIFYING RUMORS.--PEOPLE WEST OF THE LAKE.--SINGULAR HEAD-DRESSES--CANNIBALISM.--DESCRIPTION OF AN AFRICAN VILLAGE.--APPEARANCE OF THE INHABITANTS.--IN MANYEMA.--STORY ABOUT LIVINGSTONE.--MANYEMA HOUSES.--DONKEYS AS CURIOSITIES.-- KITETÉ AND HIS BEARD.--THE LUAMA AND THE LUALABA.--ON THE BANKS OF THE LIVINGSTONE. 174 CHAPTER IX. DIFFICULTIES OF LIVINGSTONE AND CAMERON WITH THEIR FOLLOWERS.--PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF TIPPU-TIB.--NEGOTIATIONS FOR AN ESCORT.--TIPPU-TIB ARRANGES TO GO WITH STANLEY.--THE WONDERS OF UREGGA.--GORILLAS AND BOA-CONSTRICTORS.--THEIR REMARKABLE PERFORMANCES.--A NATION OF DWARFS.--HOW STANLEY DECIDED WHAT ROUTE TO FOLLOW.--HEADS OR TAILS?--"SHALL IT BE SOUTH OR NORTH?"--SIGNING THE CONTRACT WITH TIPPU-TIB.--A REMARKABLE ACCIDENT.--ENTERING NYANGWÉ.--LOCATION AND IMPORTANCE OF THE PLACE.--ITS ARAB RESIDENTS.--MARKET SCENES AT NYANGWÉ.--READY FOR THE START. 201 CHAPTER X. DEPARTURE FROM NYANGWÉ.--THE DARK UNKNOWN.--IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST.--AN AFRICAN WILDERNESS.--SAVAGE FURNITURE.--TIPPU-TIB'S DEPENDANTS.--A TOILSOME MARCH.--THE DENSE JUNGLE.--A DEMORALIZED COLUMN.--AFRICAN WEAPONS.--A VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.--SKULLS OF SOKOS.--STANLEY'S LAST PAIR OF SHOES.--SNAKES IN THE WAY.--THE TERRIBLE UNDERGROWTH.--NATIVES OF UREGGA AND THEIR CHARACTERISTICS.--SKULLS AS STREET ORNAMENTS.--AMONG THE CANNIBALS.--ON THE RIVER'S BANK.--A SUDDEN INSPIRATION.--THE TRUE ROAD TO THE SEA.--TIPPU-TIB'S DISCOURAGEMENTS.--ENCOUNTERING THE NATIVES.--SUCCESSFUL NEGOTIATIONS.--THE EXPEDITION FERRIED OVER THE RIVER.--CAMPING IN THE WENYA. 221 CHAPTER XI. HOW STANLEY OBTAINED CANOES.--THE PEOPLE OF UKUSU.--THEIR HOSTILITY.--A FIGHT AND TERMS OF PEACE.--SEPARATION FROM TIPPU-TIB.--DEPARTURE "TOWARDS THE UNKNOWN."--A SAD FAREWELL.-- AMONG THE VINYA-NARA.--THE NATIVES AT STANLEY FALLS.--A FIERCE BATTLE.--DEFENDING A STOCKADE.--BOATS CAPSIZED IN A TEMPEST AND MEN DROWNED.--BEGINNING OF THE NEW YEAR.--A BATTLE ON THE WATER.--MONSTER CANOES.--AMONG THE MWANA NTABA.--THE NATIVES ARE DEFEATED.--FIRST CATARACT OF STANLEY FALLS.--CAMPED IN A FORTIFICATION. 243 CHAPTER XII. ATTACKED BY THE COMBINED FORCES OF THE MWANA NTABA AND BASWA TRIBES.--THEY ARE REPULSED.--EXPLORING THE FIRST CATARACT.-- CARRYING AND DRAGGING THE BOATS THROUGH THE FOREST AND AROUND THE FALLS.--AN ISLAND CAMP.--NATIVE WEAPONS AND UTENSILS.-- ANOTHER BATTLE.--HOW ZAIDI WAS SAVED FROM A PERILOUS POSITION.-- CAUGHT IN A NET.--HOW THE NET WAS BROKEN.--FISHES IN THE GREAT RIVER.--HOW THE OTHER CATARACTS WERE PASSED.--AFLOAT ON SMOOTH WATER.--A HOSTILE VILLAGE.--ANOTHER BATTLE.--ATTACKED BY A LARGE FLOTILLA.--A MONSTER BOAT.--A TEMPLE OF IVORY.--NO MARKET FOR ELEPHANTS' TUSKS.--EVIDENCES OF CANNIBALISM.--FRIENDLY NATIVES OF RUBUNGA.--PORTUGUESE MUSKETS IN THE HANDS OF THE NATIVES. 259 CHAPTER XIII. IN URANGI.--A NOISY RECEPTION.--WONDERFUL HEAD-DRESSES.--A TREACHEROUS ATTACK.--ANIMAL LIFE ALONG THE RIVER.--BIRDS AND BEASTS OF THE GREAT STREAM.--A BATTLE WITH THE BANGALA.-- FIRE-ARMS IN THE HANDS OF THE NATIVES.--THE SAVAGES, ALTHOUGH IN SUPERIOR NUMBERS, ARE REPULSED.--HIGH WINDS AND STORMS.--EFFECT OF THE CLIMATE ON MR. STANLEY'S HEALTH.--A GREAT TRIBUTARY RIVER.--FRIENDLY PEOPLE OF IKENGO.--PROVISIONS IN ABUNDANCE.-- ISLANDS IN THE RIVER.--DEATH OF AMINA.--A MOURNFUL SCENE.--THE LEVY HILLS.--HIPPOPOTAMUS CREEK.--BOLOBO.--THE KING OF CHUMBIRI.--A CRAFTY POTENTATE.--HIS DRESS, PIPE, WIVES, AND SONS.--INCONVENIENT COLLARS.--CURIOUS CUSTOMS. 277 CHAPTER XIV. TREACHERY OF THE KING'S SONS.--THE GREATEST RASCAL OF AFRICA.--A PYTHON IN CAMP.--STANLEY POOL.--DOVER CLIFFS.--MANKONEH.--FIRST SOUND OF THE FALLS.--BARGAINING FOR FOOD.--LOSS OF THE BIG GOAT.--EXCHANGING CHARMS.--FALL OF THE CONGO FROM NYANGWÉ TO STANLEY POOL.--GOING AROUND THE GREAT FALL.--DRAGGING THE BOATS OVERLAND.--GORDON-BENNET RIVER.--"THE CALDRON."--LOSS OF THE "LONDON TOWN."--POOR KALULU.--HIS DEATH IN THE RIVER.--LOSS OF MEN BY DROWNING.--SAD SCENES IN CAMP. 300 CHAPTER XV. THE FRIENDLY BATEKÉ.--GREAT SNAKES.--SOUDI'S STRANGE ADVENTURES.-- CAPTURED BY HOSTILE NATIVES.--DESCENDING RAPIDS AND FALLS.--LOSS OF A CANOE.--"WHIRLPOOL RAPIDS."--THE "LADY ALICE" IN PERIL.-- GAVUBU'S COVE.--"LADY ALICE" RAPIDS.--A PERILOUS DESCENT.--ALARM OF STANLEY'S PEOPLE.--TRIBUTARY STREAMS.--PANIC AMONG THE CANOE-MEN.--NATIVE VILLAGES.--INKISI FALLS.--TUCKEY'S CATARACT.-- A ROAD OVER A MOUNTAIN.--AMONG THE BABWENDÉ.--AFRICAN MARKETS.-- TRADING AMONG THE TRIBES.--SHOELESS TRAVELLERS.--EXPERIMENTS IN COOKING.--LIMITED STOCK OF PROVISIONS.--CENTRAL AFRICAN ANTS.-- "JIGGAS."--DANGERS OF UNPROTECTED FEET. 317 CHAPTER XVI. A DISAPPOINTMENT.--NOT TUCKEY'S FURTHEST.--BUILDING NEW CANOES.-- THE "LIVINGSTONE," "STANLEY," AND "JASON."--FALLS BELOW INKISI.-- FRANK POCOCK DROWNED.--STANLEY'S GRIEF.--"IN MEMORIAM."--MUTINY IN CAMP.--HOW IT WAS QUELLED.--LOSS OF THE "LIVINGSTONE."--THE CHIEF CARPENTER DROWNED.--ISANGILA CATARACT.--TUCKEY'S SECOND SANGALLA.--ABANDONING THE BOATS.--OVERLAND TO BOMA.--THE EXPEDITION STARVING.--A LETTER ASKING HELP.--VOLUNTEER COURIERS.-- DELAYS AT STARTING.--VAIN EFFORTS TO BUY FOOD.--A DREARY MARCH.-- SUFFERINGS OF STANLEY'S PEOPLE.--THE LEADER'S ANXIETY. 335 CHAPTER XVII. THE WEARY MARCH RESUMED.--RETURN OF THE MESSENGERS.--ARRIVAL OF RELIEF.--SCENE IN CAMP.--DISTRIBUTION OF PROVISIONS.--THE SONG OF JOY.--A WELCOME LETTER.--"ENOUGH NOW: FALL TO."--PERSONAL LUXURIES FOR THE LEADER.--"PALE ALE! SHERRY! PORT WINE! CHAMPAGNE! TEA! COFFEE! WHITE SUGAR! WHEATEN BREAD!"--STANLEY'S REPLY TO THE GENEROUS STRANGERS.--SUMMARY PUNISHMENT FOR THEFT.--GREETING CIVILIZATION.--RECEPTION BY WHITE MEN.--THE FREEDOM OF BOMA.-- LIFTED INTO THE HAMMOCK.--CHARACTERISTICS OF BOMA.--A BANQUET AND FAREWELL.--PONTA DA LENHA.--OUT ON THE OCEAN.--ADIEU TO THE CONGO. 351 CHAPTER XVIII. ARRIVAL AT KABINDA.--WEST AFRICAN MERCHANTS.--DEATH AMONG THE WANGWANA.--ILLNESS AMONG THE PEOPLE OF THE EXPEDITION.--STANLEY'S ANXIETY FOR HIS FOLLOWERS.--THEIR FAILING HEALTH.--ENCOURAGING THEM WITH WORDS AND KIND TREATMENT.--THE BANE OF IDLENESS.-- LEAVING KABINDA.--SAN PAULO DE LOANDA.--KINDNESS OF THE PORTUGUESE OFFICIALS.--H. B. MAJESTY'S SHIP "INDUSTRY."--CARRIED TO THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE.--THE WANGWANA SEE A "FIRE-CARRIAGE."--TO NATAL AND ZANZIBAR.--RECEPTION.--DISBANDING THE EXPEDITION.--AFFECTING SCENES.--STANLEY'S TRIBUTE TO HIS FOLLOWERS. 365 CHAPTER XIX. THE LAST MEETING ON BOARD THE "EIDER."--FOUNDING THE FREE STATE OF CONGO.--MR. STANLEY'S LATER WORK ON THE GREAT RIVER.--BUILDING ROADS AND ESTABLISHING STATIONS.--MAKING PEACE WITH THE NATIVES.-- BULA MATARI.--RESOURCES OF THE CONGO VALLEY.--STANLEY'S LATEST BOOK.--STEAMERS ON THE RIVER.--THE CONGO RAILWAY.--STANLEY'S PRESENT MISSION IN AFRICA.--EMIN PASHA AND HIS WORK.--HOW STANLEY PROPOSES TO RELIEVE HIM.--DR. SCHNITZLER.--BEY OR PASHA?--MWANGA, KING OF UGANDA.--HIS HOSTILITY TO WHITE MEN.--KILLING BISHOP HANNINGTON.--THE EGYPTIAN EQUATORIAL PROVINCE.--LETTER FROM STANLEY.--HIS PLANS FOR THE RELIEF EXPEDITION.--TIPPU-TIB AND HIS MEN.--FROM ZANZIBAR TO THE CONGO. 381 CHAPTER XX. MORE AFRICAN STUDIES.--MASAI LAND.--EARLY HISTORY OF THE MOMBASA COAST.--MOUNT KILIMANJARO.--ITS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS.-- REBMANN'S UMBRELLA.--THOMSON'S EXPEDITION AND ITS OBJECT.--FRERE TOWN AND MOMBASA.--JOURNEY TO MASAI LAND.--HOSTILITY OF THE NATIVES.--NARROW ESCAPES.--MASAI WARRIORS AND THEIR OCCUPATIONS.-- MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE PEOPLE.--THOMSON AS A MAGICIAN.-- JOHNSTON'S KILIMANJARO EXPEDITION.--HEIGHT AND PECULIARITIES OF THE GREAT MOUNTAIN.--MANDARA AND HIS COURT.--SLAVE-TRADING.--MASAI WOMEN.--SURROUNDED BY LIONS.--BISHOP HANNINGTON.--STORY OF HIS DEATH IN UGANDA. 410 CHAPTER XXI. STANLEY'S HUNTING ADVENTURES.--AFRICA THE FIELD FOR THE SPORTSMAN.--HUNTING IN SOUTH AFRICA.--NIGHT-SHOOTING AT WATER-HOLES AND SPRINGS.--ABUNDANCE OF GAME.--DANGER OF THIS KIND OF SPORT.--LIONS AND ELEPHANTS.--MAN-EATING LIONS.--IN THE JAWS OF A LION.--DR. LIVINGSTONE'S NARROW ESCAPE.--THE HOPO, OR GAME-TRAP ON A LARGE SCALE.--DU CHAILLU AND HIS ADVENTURES.-- SHOOTING THE GORILLA.--RESEMBLANCE OF THE GORILLA TO MAN.-- PRODIGIOUS STRENGTH OF THE GORILLA.--HOW HE IS HUNTED.--THE END. 442 ILLUSTRATIONS. A Scene on the Congo _Frontispiece._ Map of Africa showing Route from Zanzibar to Boma _Front Cover._ Map of Emin Pasha's Province and the Congo Routes _Back Cover._ Portrait of Henry M. Stanley 12 Sandy Hook from Navesink Light-house 13 Stanley in Abyssinia 15 Musicians of the Dark Continent 16 Village where Dr. Livingstone Died 18 James Gordon Bennett 19 The _Lady Alice_, in Sections 20 Candidates for Service with Stanley 21 View of a Portion of the Sea-front of Zanzibar, from the Water Battery to Shangani Point 23 Zanzibar, from the Sea 23 Red Cliffs behind Universities Mission, Zanzibar 24 View from the Roof of Mr. Augustus Sparhawk's House 25 The British Consulate at Zanzibar 26 Seyyid Barghash 27 A Zanzibar Nurse-maid 28 Lady of Zanzibar Reading an Arabic Manuscript 29 Native Water-carrier, Zanzibar 30 Hindoo Merchant of Zanzibar 31 Negro Nurse-maid, Zanzibar 33 A Zanzibar Bride 34 Window of an Arab House, Zanzibar 35 Coxswain Uledi, and Manwa Sera, Chief Captain 36 A Merchant of Zanzibar 37 Tarya Topan 39 Universities Mission at Mbwenni, Zanzibar 40 Harem in the House of the Secretary of the Sultan of Zanzibar 41 "Towards the Dark Continent." 42 Scene in Bagamoyo 43 Wife of Manwa Sera 45 A Leading Citizen of Bagamoyo 46 The Expedition at Rosako 47 View from the Village of Mamboya 49 Our Camp at Mpwapwa 50 Detective and Assistants 51 An African Belle 52 An African Blacksmith's-shop 53 Funeral of Edward Pocock: View of Our Camp 55 In Memoriam of Edward Pocock 56 An African Lamb 56 Unyamwezi Porter 57 View of Kagehyi from the Edge of the Lake 59 Frank Pocock 60 African Arms and Ornaments 61 View near Victoria Lake 62 Dwellers on the Shore of the Lake 63 The _Lady Alice_ at Bridge Island, Victoria Nyanza 64 View of the Bay leading to Rugedzi Channel from Kigoma, near Kisorya, South Side of Ukerewé, Coast of Speke Gulf 65 View of Ripon Falls from the Uganda Side 67 Dressed for Cold Weather 68 The Victoria Nile, North of Ripon Falls, Rushing towards Unyoro, from the Usoga Side of the Falls 69 Reception by King Mtesa's Body-guard at Usavara 71 Waiting Orders 72 Sekebobo, Chief of Chagwé. Mtesa, the Emperor of Uganda. Chambarango, the Chief. Pokino, the Prime-minister. Other Chiefs. 73 Dwarf at the King's Court 74 The King's Dinner-dish 76 Fish found in Lake Victoria 78 Rubaga, the Capital of the King of Uganda 79 Fleet of the King of Uganda, Ready for War 81 Audience-hall of the Palace at Rubaga 82 Wooden Kettle-drum 83 African Hatchet, Spade, and Adze 83 Head of a "Madoqua"--Species of Antelope 85 Shugrangu House, an African Mission Station, with Grave of Mrs. Livingstone 87 Warriors of the Upper Nile Region 89 Reception at Bumbireh Island, Victoria Nyanza 91 Hut and Granary on the Island 93 A Woman of the Island 94 Village Enclosing Cattle 95 Heads of Spears 96 Central African Goat 97 Cairn Erected to the Memory of Frederick Barker: Majita and Ururi Mountains in the Distance, across Speke Gulf 98 At the Landing-place of Msossi, King Lukongeh's Capital 99 Store-house for Grain 99 Wakerewé Stool 100 Wakerewé Dwelling-house 100 Fish-nets 100 Wakerewé Canoes 100 Wakerewé Warrior 100 Strange Granite Rocks of Wezi Island, Midway between Usukuma and Ukerewé 101 Usukuma Canoe 102 Island called Elephant Rock 103 Mtesa's Camp, Ingira 104 One of the Great Naval Battles between the Waganda and the Wavuma, in the Channel between Ingira Island and Cape Nakaranga 105 Small Canoe 106 View of Country near Mtesa's Camp 106 The Floating Fortlet Moving towards Ingira 107 Uganda War Canoe 109 Wangwana Hut in Camp. Hut at Jinja 110 Head of Central African Hartebeest 110 The Camp of the Expedition 111 Mount Edwin Arnold 112 Marching towards Muta Nzege: Mount Gordon-Bennett in the Distance 113 Grass-roofed Hut, Unyoro 114 Native Hut, Karagwé 114 View near Kafurro 115 Central African Antelope, Karagwé 116 View of Ufumbiro Mountains from Mount near Mtagata Hot Springs 117 Rumanika's Treasure-house 118 A Spearman of Karagwé 119 Mountain Scene in Karagwé 119 Boat on Lake Windermere 120 Kagera Skiff 121 Native Woman of Fashion 121 Ihema Hut 122 A Native of Uhha 122 Boat of Lake Ihema 122 Hut of Uganda 123 Small Tembé of Ugogo 123 House of an Arab Merchant near Rumanika's Village 124 On the Way to the Meeting 125 Ground-plan of King's House 126 Treasure-house, Arms, and Treasures of Rumanika 127 The Expedition Traversing the Valley 129 Pottery in Usui 130 A Village in Western Usui 132 Camp of an Arab Merchant 133 "Bull." 135 A Hut and its Frame 136 View in the Interior of an African Village 137 Serombo Huts 138 War-Drum and Idol 139 A "Ruga-Ruga," one of Mirambo's Patriots 139 Hillside House in Mirambo's Country 140 Unyamwezi Chief and his Wife 141 Shield and Drum 142 Color-party of an English Expedition in Africa 143 Mountains along the Route of the Expedition 145 Fashionable Hair-dressing 147 One of the Watuta 148 Bow, Spears, Hatchets, and Arrow-Heads 149 Idols Sheltered from the Rain 150 Arab House near Ujiji 150 Whistle, Pillow, and Hatchet 151 Head of Uguhha Woman 152 Ujiji, looking North from the Market-place, Viewed from the Roof of our Tembé at Ujiji 153 Arab Dhow at Ujiji 154 A Native of Rua, who was a Visitor at Ujiji 155 Dress and Tattooing of a Native of Uguhha 156 Charms Worn by the Wajiji 157 A River Ferry-boat 158 Heads of Natives 158 The Wazaramo Tribe 159 Rawlinson Mountains 161 Head-dress and Hatchet 162 Brother Rocks 163 The Extreme Southern Reach of Lake Tanganika 164 Mtombwa 165 Kungwé Peaks 166 The "High Places" of the Spirit Mtombwa: View of Mtombwa Urungu 167 Mount Murumbi, near Lukuga Creek 168 Ubujwé Head-dress 170 Uguha Head-dress 170 Village Scene.--Dwellings and Grain-houses 171 A Woman of Uguha 172 Uhyeya Head-dress 172 Spirit Island, Lake Tanganika 172 Sketch Near Ujiji 173 In Council: The Courtyard of Our Tembé at Ujiji 175 Central African Goat 176 M'Sehazy Haven and Camp, at the Mouth of M'Sehazy River 177 Huts and Store-house 179 Sub-Chief, West of Lake Tanganika 180 Heads of Men of Manyema 181 Natives of Ubujwé 181 A Native of Uhyeya 182 One of the Wahyeya of Uhombo. (Back View) 182 A Valley among the Hills 183 Going a-fishing 184 Village Forge and Idol 185 Ready for Fighting 186 African Owls 188 A Village in Manyema 189 A Youth of East Manyema 190 A Manyema Adult 190 The Valley of Mabaro 191 A Young Woman of East Manyema 192 Village Scene in Southeast Manyema 193 House of an Arab Merchant 195 House of a Manyema Chief 196 Kiteté, The Chief of Mpungu 198 Village near Kabungwé 199 Native Houses at Mtuyu 200 Ants'-nest in Manyema 200 Hill and Village on the Road to Nyangwé 201 Waiting to be Photographed 203 A Young "Soko" (Gorilla) 204 Blacksmiths at Work 205 Native Trap for Game 206 Canoes on the River 207 "Heads for the North and the Lualaba; Tails for the South and Katanga." 208 A Follower of Tippu-Tib 209 A Canoe of the Wenya, or Wagenya, Fishermen 210 Pot-pourri 211 View in Nyangwé 212 A Bowman 213 Camp Scene 214 Escort of Gunners and Spearmen 215 Slave Offered in the Market 217 Nyangwé Heads 217 Nyangwé Pottery 218 Muini Dugumbi's Followers Attacking Nyangwé 219 Antelope of the Nyangwé Region 220 Near Nyangwé 221 Open Country before Reaching the Forest 223 Tippu-Tib's Body Servants 224 Jumah 225 The Edge of the Forest 227 Water-bottles 228 Stool of Uregga 229 Uregga House 229 Spoons of Uregga 229 Uregga Spear 229 Cane Settee 229 Bench 230 Back-rest 230 An African Fez of Leopard-skin 230 Prickles of the Acacia Plant 231 An African Ant 231 Marabouts, Storks, and Pelicans in the Forest Lakes 232 A Forge and Smithy at Wane-Kirumbu, Uregga 233 A Young "Soko" Sitting for his Portrait 235 Head of the Gorilla 236 Backgammon Tray 236 In Full Style 237 A Tributary River 239 Wangwana Women 240 Some of the People on Shore 241 Canoes in the Mouth of the Ruiki River 243 War-hatchet of Ukusu 244 Stool of Ukusu 244 Stew-pot of the Wahika 244 Encounter with a Gorilla 245 A House of Two Rooms 246 Canoe Scoop 247 Scoops 247 "Towards the Unknown." 247 Coil of Plaited Rope, Central Africa 248 War-drums of the Tribes of the Upper Livingstone 249 Village Scene 250 Musical Instruments and Mode of Playing 251 Gorillas and Nest 253 Native Pipe 254 Scene on a Tributary of the Great River--Launching a Canoe 255 Mwana Ntaba Canoe (The "Crocodile") 256 Village near the Forest 257 Native Corn-magazine 258 African Stool 259 Spear-head 260 The Kooloo-Kamba, or Long-eared Soko 261 A Baswa Knife 262 Style of Knives 262 Baswa Basket and Cover 262 Shooting a Crocodile at the Rapids 263 Cavern near Stanley Falls 264 The Desperate Situation of Zaidi, and his Rescue by Uledi, the Coxswain of the Boat 265 The Seventh Cataract, Stanley Falls 266 Pike--Stanley Falls 266 An African Suspension-bridge 267 Fish--Seventh Cataract, Stanley Falls 268 Baswa Palm-oil Jar and Palm-wine Cooler 268 Mouth of Drum 269 Wooden Signal-drum of the Wenya, or Wagenya, and the Tribes on the Livingstone 269 Drumsticks--Knobs being of India-rubber 269 Shields of Ituka People 269 Fish--Stanley Falls 270 Monster Canoe 271 Native Spade 272 The Fight below the Confluence of the Aruwimi and the Livingstone Rivers 273 Spear, Isangi 274 Knives, Rubunga 274 Rings for Protecting the Arm 275 Rubunga Blacksmiths 276 Double Iron Bells of Urangi 277 Beak of the Balinæceps Rex 278 The Balinæceps Rex 279 A Cannibal Chief 281 The Attack of the Sixty-three Canoes of the Piratical Bangala 283 Poisoned Arrows 284 A Crocodile Hunt 285 Elephant Hunters on the Congo 287 African Knife and Axes 288 Spears, and Shield of Elephant-hide 289 Spectators among the Trees 291 Encounter with a Hippopotamus 295 A Present from Chumbiri 296 The King of Chumbiri 296 Great Pipe of King of Chumbiri 297 One of the King's Wives at Chumbiri 298 A Bowman 299 Son of the King of Chumbiri 300 A Python in an African Forest 301 The Northern End of Stanley Pool 302 Map of Stanley Pool 303 One of the King's Warriors 304 African Reclining-Chair 305 A Present from Itsi 306 Floating Island in Stanley Pool 308 Village in the Valley of the Congo 309 Native Pottery 310 View of the Right Branch, First Cataract, of the Livingstone Falls, from Four Miles below Juemba Island 311 Over Rocky Point close to Gampa's 312 At Work Passing the Lower End of the First Cataract of the Livingstone Falls, near Rocky Island 313 African Pipes 314 Death of Kalulu 315 One of Gampa's Men 316 Village Idols 317 Hilly Regions back from the River 319 _Lady Alice_ over the Falls 321 Native Mill for Grinding Corn 322 Falls on a Tributary Stream 323 An Upland Stream and Native Bridge 324 The Nkenké River Entering the Livingstone below the _Lady Alice_ Rapids 325 Mode of Passing Boats over the Falls 327 Village on the Table-land 329 A Figure in the Market-place 330 African Market Scene 331 View in the Babwendé Country 332 Nyitti, an African Potato 333 Ugogo Cooking-pot 334 Wild Bull of Equatorial Africa 334 The New Canoes, the _Livingstone_ and the _Stanley_ 336 Cutting out the New _Livingstone_ Canoe 337 In Memoriam: Francis John Pocock 338 Fall of the Edwin Arnold River into the Pocock Basin 339 The Chief Carpenter Carried over Zinga Fall 340 The Masassa Falls, and the Entrance into Pocock Basin, or Bolobolo Pool 341 Camp at Kilolo, above Isangila Falls 342 View from the Table-land 343 "I want Rum." 345 Village Scene, with Granary in Foreground 346 In the Valley 347 Ant-hills on the Road to Boma 348 One of the Guides 349 Catching Ants for Food 350 Mbinda Cemetery 351 In the Suburbs of Boma 352 Outbuildings of an African Factory 353 Escort of the Caravan 354 Outside the Village 356 View in the Open Country 357 Wooden Idol 358 The White-fronted Wild Hog of Central Africa 359 The Hammock on the West Coast of Africa 360 The Circumnavigators of the Victoria Nyanza and Lake Tanganika, and Explorers of the Alexandra Nile and Livingstone (Congo) River 361 Native Belles on the West Coast 362 Native Blacksmiths near Boma 363 At Rest: Stanley's Quarters at Kabinda by the Sea 365 Expedition at Kabinda 366 Group of Mr. Stanley's Followers at Kabinda, West Coast of Africa, just after Crossing the "Dark Continent." 367 Scenery on the West Coast of Africa 368 A Dandy of San Paulo de Loanda 369 View of San Paulo de Loanda--The Fort of San Miguel on the Right 371 Dhows in the Harbor of Zanzibar 372 The Recuperated and Reclad Expedition as it Appeared at Admiralty House, Simon's Town, after our Arrival on H. M. S. _Industry_ 373 The Women of the Expedition 377 Stanley, as he Left England for Africa in 1874 378 Stanley, as he Reached Zanzibar in 1877 379 Ngahma, a Congo Chief 382 View of Vivi, from the Isangila Road 383 Port of Leopoldville 384 A Photograph 385 A Congo House 386 The Effect of Civilization 387 A Native of the Lower Congo 388 Emin Pasha 391 Blacksmith's Forge and Bellows 392 Some of Emin Pasha's Irregular Troops 393 Ivory-eating Squirrel, Central Africa 394 Battle between Native Warriors and Egyptian Troops 395 Native Warrior in Emin Pasha's Province 396 The King of Unyora and his Great Chiefs 397 Native War-dance 399 Breed of Cattle in Emin Pasha's Province 400 Lado, Capital of Egyptian Equatorial Province 401 Schooli Warrior, Egyptian Equatorial Province 402 Fortified Village near Lado 403 Ismaen Abou Hatab, Trusted Officer of Emin Pasha 404 Village in the Valley of the Bengo 405 A Traveller's Caravan near Wadelay 407 A Dyoor, Subject of Emin Pasha 408 Chief of Coast Tribe in Portuguese Territory 409 Tattooing among the Coast Natives 410 Doorway of a House at Mombasa 411 Heads of Coast Natives 413 View of Mombasa 415 Camp of an English Explorer in Africa 417 Slave Caravans on the Road 419 Slaves Left to Die 421 A Spring in the Desert 423 A Wedding-dance 424 Mandara's Left Ear 426 A Corner of Mr. Johnston's Settlement 427 View of Kilimanjaro 429 Camp Scene 430 African Adjutants 432 A Well-stocked Hunting-ground 433 Plain and Mountains in Masai Land 434 Ear-stretchers and Ear-ornaments 436 A Masai Warrior 437 Masai Married Woman, with Painted Face 438 Uganda Head-dress 440 Place where Bishop Hannington was Imprisoned and Killed 441 African Oryx, or Gemsbok 442 South African Hunting--in Camp 443 Night Hunting--Elephants Coming to Drink 445 An African Serenade 446 Close Shave by an Elephant 447 Death-grapple with a Lion 448 Rhinoceros and Dogs 450 Dr. Livingstone in the Lion's Grasp 451 The Hopo, or Trap for Driving Game 453 Paul du Chaillu in Africa 454 Gorilla Hunting--Mother and Young at Play 455 Du Chaillu's First Gorilla 457 Head of Kooloo-Kamba 458 Ear of Kooloo-Kamba 458 Du Chaillu Ascending an African River 459 Gorilla Skull 461 Human Skull 461 Skeletons of Man and the Gorilla 462 A Young Gorilla--Du Chaillu's Captive 463 [Illustration: Henry Stanley] THE BOY TRAVELLERS ON THE CONGO. CHAPTER I. CROSSING THE ATLANTIC OCEAN WITH STANLEY.--"THROUGH THE DARK CONTINENT."--AN IMPROMPTU GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY.--PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF STANLEY.--COMMENTS UPON HIM BY FRANK AND FRED.--HOW THE GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY WAS ORGANIZED.--READING STANLEY'S BOOK.--STANLEY'S DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND FOR ZANZIBAR.--JOINT ENTERPRISE OF TWO NEWSPAPERS.--PREPARATIONS FOR THE EXPEDITION.--THE _LADY ALICE_.--BARKER AND THE POCOCKS.--ZANZIBAR.--PRINCE BARGHASH.--INHABITANTS OF ZANZIBAR.--THE WANGWANA. At eight o'clock on the morning of December 15, 1886, the magnificent steamer _Eider_, of the North German Lloyds, left her dock in New York harbor for a voyage to Southampton and Bremen. Among the passengers that gathered on her deck to wave farewell to friends on shore was one whose name has become famous throughout the civilized world for the great work he has performed in exploring the African continent and opening it to commerce and Christianizing influences. That man, it is hardly necessary to say, was HENRY M. STANLEY. Near him stood a group of three individuals who will be recognized by many of our readers. They were Doctor Bronson and his nephews, Frank Bassett and Fred Bronson, whose adventures have been recorded in previous volumes.[1] [1] "The Boy Travellers in the Far East," in China, Japan, Siam, Java, Ceylon, India, Egypt, the Holy Land, Africa; "The Boy Travellers in South America;" "The Boy Travellers in the Russian Empire." Seven volumes, published by Harper & Brothers, New York. [Illustration: SANDY HOOK FROM NAVESINK LIGHT-HOUSE.] Slowly the great steamer made her way among the ships at anchor in the harbor. She passed the Narrows, then entered the Lower Bay, and, winding through the channel between Sandy Hook and Coney Island, was soon upon the open ocean. Near the Sandy Hook light-ship she stopped her engines sufficiently long to discharge her pilot, and then, with her prow turned to the eastward, she dashed away on her course at full speed. Day by day and night by night the tireless engines throbbed and pulsated, but never for a moment ceased their toil till the _Eider_ was off Southampton, more than three thousand miles from her starting-point. Doctor Bronson was acquainted with Mr. Stanley, and soon after the steamer left the dock the two gentlemen were in conversation. After a little while the doctor introduced his nephews, who were warmly greeted by the great explorer; he had read of their journeys in the far East and in other lands, and expressed his pleasure at meeting them personally. As for Frank and Fred, they were overjoyed at the introduction and the cordial manner in which they were received. They thanked Mr. Stanley for the kind words he had used in speaking of their travels, which had been of little consequence compared with his own. Frank added that he hoped some day to be able to cross the African continent; the way had been opened by Mr. Stanley, and, with the facilities which the latter had given to travellers, the journey would be far easier of accomplishment than it was twenty or even ten years ago. Then followed a desultory conversation, of which no record has been preserved; other passengers came up to speak to Mr. Stanley, and the party separated. As the steamer passed into the open ocean most of the people on deck disappeared below for the double reason that there was a cold wind from the eastward and--breakfast was on the table. "What a charming man Mr. Stanley is!" Fred remarked, as soon as they had withdrawn from the group. "Yes," replied his cousin, "and so different from what I expected he would be. He is dignified without being haughty, and friendly without familiarity. Before the introduction I was afraid to meet him, but found myself quite at ease before we had been talking a minute. I'm not surprised to hear how much those who know him are attached to him, nor at the influence he possesses over the people among whom his great work has been performed." [Illustration: STANLEY IN ABYSSINIA.] "Just think what a career he has had," continued Frank. "After various adventures as a newspaper correspondent in Spain, Abyssinia, Ashantee, and other countries, he was sent by the editor of the New York _Herald_ to find Dr. Livingstone in the interior of Africa. He found the famous missionary; but when he came back, and told the story of what he had done, a great many people refused to believe him, because they considered the feat impossible for a newspaper correspondent. He came out of Africa at the same point where he entered it, and it was said by some that he had never ventured farther than a few miles from the coast. This made him angry, and the next time he went on a tour of exploration in Africa he made sure that the same criticism would be impossible." "Yes, indeed!" responded Fred. "He went into the African wilderness at Bagomoya, on the east side of the continent, and came out at the mouth of the Congo, away over on the other side. He descended that great river, which no white man had ever done before him, and passed through dangers and difficulties such as few travellers of modern times have known. And, besides--" Before Fred could finish the sentence he had begun the Doctor joined them, and asked Frank where he had put the parcel of books that they had selected to read during the voyage. "It is in our room," the youth replied, "and ready to be opened whenever we want any of the books. We will arrange our things this forenoon, and I will open the parcel at once." "You selected Mr. Stanley's book, 'Through the Dark Continent,' I believe," Doctor Bronson continued, "and I think you had better bring that out first. Now that Mr. Stanley is with us, you will read it again with much greater interest than before." The youths were pleased with the suggestion, which they accepted at once. Fred laughingly remarked that there might be danger of a quarrel between them as to who should have the first privilege of reading the book. Frank thought they could get over the difficulty by dividing the two volumes between them, but he admitted that the one who read the second volume in advance of the first would be likely to have his mind confused as to the exact course of the exploration which the book described. [Illustration: MUSICIANS OF THE DARK CONTINENT.] Doctor Bronson said he was reminded of an anecdote he once heard about a man who always read books with a mark, which he carefully inserted at the end of each reading. He was going through the "Life of Napoleon" at one time, and for three evenings in succession his room-mate slyly set back the mark to the starting-point. At the end of the third evening he asked the reader what he thought of Napoleon. "He was a most wonderful man," was the reply; "in three days he crossed the Alps three times with his whole army, and went the same way every time." While the party were laughing over the anecdote Mr. Stanley came up, and said he wished to have a share in the fun. The Doctor repeated the story, and explained how it had been called to his mind. "Well," said Mr. Stanley, "it would be very unfortunate for Masters Frank and Fred to get the story of the Dark Continent doubled up in the manner you suggest. I propose that they shall study it together, one reading aloud to the other, and, as the entire book is too much for the limited time of this voyage, they will be obliged to omit portions of chapters here and there. The readings can take place daily during the afternoon and evening, and the youth who is to read can devote the forenoon to selecting the parts of the chapters he will suppress and those which are to be given to the listeners. I will assist him in his selections from time to time, and, with due diligence, the book will be finished before we reach Southampton." It was unanimously voted that the plan was an excellent one, and the boys immediately proceeded to carry it out. The volumes were brought forth, and Frank retired to a corner of the saloon to make a selection for the first afternoon's reading. Mr. Stanley sat with him a short time, marking several pages and paragraphs, and then went on deck, where he joined Doctor Bronson in a brief promenade. Meantime Fred busied himself with an examination of several other books of African travel; he was evidently familiar with their contents, as he ran through the pages with great rapidity, and marked numerous passages, with the evident intention of referring to them in the course of the time devoted to what we may call the public readings. There was an intermission of labor towards the middle of the day, and at this time Frank and Fred made the acquaintance of two or three other youths of about their age. When the latter learned of the proposed scheme, they asked permission to be allowed to hear how the Dark Continent was traversed, and their request was readily granted. Consequently the audience that assembled in the afternoon comprised some six or eight persons, including Mr. Stanley and Doctor Bronson. Neither of the gentlemen remained there through the whole afternoon, partly for the reason that they were both familiar with the narrative and partly because they did not wish to seem otherwise than confident that the boys knew how to manage matters for themselves. This kind of work was not altogether new to Frank and Fred, as many of our readers are aware; and in all their previous experiences they had acquitted themselves admirably. When everything was ready Frank began with the opening chapter of "Through the Dark Continent" and read as follows: "While returning to England in April, 1874, from the Ashantee War, the news reached me that Livingstone was dead--that his body was on its way to England! [Illustration: VILLAGE WHERE DR. LIVINGSTONE DIED.] "Livingstone had then fallen! He was dead! He had died by the shores of Lake Bemba, on the threshold of the dark region he had wished to explore! The work he had promised me to perform was only begun when death overtook him! "The effect which this news had upon me, after the first shock had passed away, was to fire me with a resolution to complete his work, to be, if God willed it, the next martyr to geographical science, or, if my life was to be spared, to clear up not only the secrets of the Great River throughout its course, but also all that remained still problematic and incomplete of the discoveries of Burton and Speke, and Speke and Grant. "The solemn day of the burial of the body of my great friend arrived. I was one of the pall-bearers in Westminster Abbey, and when I had seen the coffin lowered into the grave, and had heard the first handful of earth thrown over it, I walked away sorrowing over the fate of David Livingstone. "Soon after this I was passing by an old book-shop, and observed a volume bearing the singular title of 'How to Observe.' Upon opening it, I perceived it contained tolerably clear instructions of 'how and what to observe.' It was very interesting, and it whetted my desire to know more; it led me to purchase quite an extensive library of books upon Africa, its geography, geology, botany, and ethnology. I thus became possessed of over one hundred and thirty books upon Africa, which I studied with the zeal of one who had a living interest in the subject, and with the understanding of one who had been already four times on that continent. I knew what had been accomplished by African explorers, and I knew how much of the dark interior was still unknown to the world. Until late hours I sat up, inventing and planning, sketching out routes, laying out lengthy lines of possible exploration, noting many suggestions which the continued study of my project created. I also drew up lists of instruments and other paraphernalia that would be required to map, lay out, and describe the new regions to be traversed. "I had strolled over one day to the office of the _Daily Telegraph_, full of the subject. While I was discussing journalistic enterprise in general with one of the staff, the editor entered. We spoke of Livingstone and the unfinished task remaining behind him. In reply to an eager remark which I made, he asked: "'Could you, and would you, complete the work? And what is there to do?' "I answered: "The outlet of Lake Tanganika is undiscovered. We know nothing scarcely--except what Speke has sketched out--of Lake Victoria; we do not even know whether it consists of one or many lakes, and therefore the sources of the Nile are still unknown. Moreover, the western half of the African continent is still a white blank.' "'Do you think you can settle all this, if we commission you?' "'While I live there will be something done. If I survive the time required to perform all the work, all shall be done.' [Illustration: JAMES GORDON BENNETT.] "The matter was for the moment suspended, because Mr. James Gordon Bennett, of the New York _Herald_, had prior claims on my services. "A telegram was despatched to New York to him: 'Would he join the _Daily Telegraph_ in sending Stanley out to Africa, to complete the discoveries of Speke, Burton, and Livingstone?' and, within twenty-four hours, my 'new mission' to Africa was determined on as a joint expedition, by the laconic answer which the cable flashed under the Atlantic: 'Yes; Bennett.' "A few days before I departed for Africa, the _Daily Telegraph_ announced in a leading article that its proprietors had united with Mr. James Gordon Bennett in organizing an expedition of African discovery, under the command of Mr. Henry M. Stanley. 'The purpose of the enterprise,' it said, 'is to complete the work left unfinished by the lamented death of Dr. Livingstone; to solve, if possible, the remaining problems of the geography of Central Africa; and to investigate and report upon the haunts of the slave-traders.... He will represent the two nations whose common interest in the regeneration of Africa was so well illustrated when the lost English explorer was rediscovered by the energetic American correspondent. In that memorable journey, Mr. Stanley displayed the best qualities of an African traveller; and with no inconsiderable resources at his disposal to reinforce his own complete acquaintance with the conditions of African travel, it may be hoped that very important results will accrue from this undertaking to the advantage of science, humanity, and civilization.' "Two weeks were allowed me for purchasing boats--a yawl, a gig, and a barge--for giving orders for pontoons, and purchasing equipment, guns, ammunition, rope, saddles, medical stores, and provisions; for making investments in gifts for native chiefs; for obtaining scientific instruments, stationery, etc., etc. The barge was an invention of my own. [Illustration: THE "LADY ALICE" IN SECTIONS.] "It was to be forty feet long, six feet beam, and thirty inches deep, of Spanish cedar three eighths of an inch thick. When finished, it was to be separated into five sections, each of which should be eight feet long. If the sections should be overweight, they were to be again divided into halves for greater facility of carriage. The construction of this novel boat was undertaken by Mr. James Messenger, boat-builder, of Teddington, near London. The pontoons were made by Cording, but though the workmanship was beautiful, they were not a success, because the superior efficiency of the boat for all purposes rendered them unnecessary. However, they were not wasted. Necessity compelled us, while in Africa, to employ them for far different purposes from those for which they had originally been designed. "There lived a clerk at the Langham Hotel, of the name of Frederick Barker, who, smitten with a desire to go to Africa, was not to be dissuaded by reports of its unhealthy climate, its dangerous fevers, or the uncompromising views of exploring life given to him. 'He would go, he was determined to go,' he said. "Mr. Edwin Arnold, of the _Daily Telegraph_, also suggested that I should be accompanied by one or more young English boatmen of good character, on the ground that their river knowledge would be extremely useful to me. He mentioned his wish to a most worthy fisherman, named Henry Pocock, of Lower Upnor, Kent, who had kept his yacht for him, and who had fine stalwart sons, who bore the reputation of being honest and trustworthy. Two of these young men volunteered at once. Both Mr. Arnold and myself warned the Pocock family repeatedly that Africa had a cruel character, that the sudden change from the daily comforts of English life to the rigorous one of an explorer would try the most perfect constitution; would most likely be fatal to the uninitiated and unacclimatized. But I permitted myself to be overborne by the eager courage and devotion of these adventurous lads, and Francis John Pocock and Edward Pocock, two very likely-looking young men, were accordingly engaged as my assistants. [Illustration: CANDIDATES FOR SERVICE WITH STANLEY.] "Soon after the announcement of the 'New Mission,' applications by the score poured into the offices of the _Daily Telegraph_ and New York _Herald_ for employment. Before I sailed from England, over twelve hundred letters were received from 'generals,' 'colonels,' 'captains,' 'lieutenants,' 'mid-shipmen,' 'engineers,' 'commissioners of hotels,' mechanics, waiters, cooks, servants, somebodies and nobodies, spiritual mediums and magnetizers, etc., etc. They all knew Africa, were perfectly acclimatized, were quite sure they would please me, would do important services, save me from any number of troubles by their ingenuity and resources, take me up in balloons or by flying carriages, make us all invisible by their magic arts, or by the 'science of magnetism' would cause all savages to fall asleep while we might pass anywhere without trouble. Indeed, I feel sure that, had enough money been at my disposal at that time, I might have led 5000 Englishmen, 5000 Americans, 2000 Frenchmen, 2000 Germans, 500 Italians, 250 Swiss, 200 Belgians, 50 Spaniards, and 5 Greeks, or 15,005 Europeans, to Africa. But the time had not arrived to depopulate Europe, and colonize Africa on such a scale, and I was compelled to respectfully decline accepting the valuable services of the applicants, and to content myself with Francis John and Edward Pocock, and Frederick Barker--whose entreaties had been seconded by his mother. "I was agreeably surprised also, before departure, at the great number of friends I possessed in England, who testified their friendship substantially by presenting me with useful 'tokens of their regard' in the shape of canteens, watches, water-bottles, pipes, pistols, knives, pocket-companions, manifold writers, cigars, packages of medicine, Bibles, prayer-books, English tracts for the dissemination of religious knowledge among the black pagans, poems, tiny silk banners, gold rings, etc., etc. A lady for whom I have a reverent respect presented me also with a magnificent prize mastiff named Castor, an English officer presented me with another, and at the Dogs' Home at Battersea I purchased a retriever, a bull-dog, and a bull-terrier, called respectively by the Pococks, Nero, Bull, and Jack. "On the 15th of August, 1874, having shipped the Europeans, boats, dogs, and general property of the expedition, I left England for the east coast of Africa to begin my explorations." Here Frank paused and informed his listeners that he would not read in full the chapter which followed, as they could not readily comprehend it without the aid of a map. "It contains," he said, "a summary of the history of the expeditions that have sought to find the sources of the Nile from the days of Herodotus to the present time, the accounts of the discoveries of the Central African lakes and of the Nile flowing from the northern end of Lake Victoria, together with a statement of the knowledge which Dr. Livingstone possessed concerning the Congo River and its course. At the end of the chapter Mr. Stanley repeats his proposal to solve the problems concerning the extent of Lakes Tanganika and Victoria, to find the outlet of the former, and determine whether the great river which Livingston saw was the Nile, the Niger, or the Congo. And now we will see," continued the youth, "how Mr. Stanley entered the African continent on his great exploration." With these words he referred again to the book, and read as follows: "Twenty-eight months had elapsed between my departure from Zanzibar after the discovery of Livingstone and my rearrival on that island, September 21, 1874. [Illustration: VIEW OF A PORTION OF THE SEA-FRONT OF ZANZIBAR, FROM THE WATER BATTERY TO SHANGANI POINT.] "The well-remembered undulating ridges, and the gentle slopes clad with palms and mango-trees bathed in warm vapor, seemed in that tranquil, drowsy state which at all times any portion of tropical Africa presents at first appearance. A pale-blue sky covered the hazy land and sleeping sea as we steamed through the strait that separates Zanzibar from the continent. Every stranger, at first view of the shores, proclaims his pleasure. The gorgeous verdure, the distant purple ridges, the calm sea, the light gauzy atmosphere, the semi-mysterious silence which pervades all nature, evoke his admiration. For it is probable that he has sailed through the stifling Arabian Sea, with the grim, frowning mountains of Nubia on the one hand, and on the other the drear, ochreous-colored ridges of the Arab peninsula; and perhaps the aspect of the thirsty volcanic rocks of Aden and the dry, brown bluffs of Guardafui is still fresh in his memory. [Illustration: ZANZIBAR, FROM THE SEA.] "The stranger, of course, is intensely interested in the life existing near the African equator, now first revealed to him, and all that he sees and hears of figures and faces and sounds is being freshly impressed on his memory. Figures and faces are picturesque enough. Happy, pleased-looking men of black, yellow, or tawny color, with long, white cotton shirts, move about with quick, active motion, and cry out, regardless of order, to their friends or mates in the Swahili or Arabic language, and their friends or mates respond with equally loud voice and lively gesture, until, with fresh arrivals, there appears to be a Babel created, wherein English, French, Swahili, and Arabic accents mix with Hindi, and, perhaps, Persian. [Illustration: RED CLIFFS BEHIND UNIVERSITIES MISSION, ZANZIBAR.] "In the midst of such a scene I stepped into a boat to be rowed to the house of my old friend, Mr. Augustus Sparhawk, of the Bertram Agency. I was welcomed with all the friendliness and hospitality of my first visit, when, three years and a half previously, I arrived at Zanzibar to set out for the discovery of Livingstone. "With Mr. Sparhawk's aid I soon succeeded in housing comfortably my three young Englishmen, Francis John and Edward Pocock and Frederick Barker, and my five dogs, and in stowing safely on shore the yawl _Wave_, the gig, and the tons of goods, provisions, and stores I had brought. [Illustration: VIEW FROM THE ROOF OF MR. AUGUSTUS SPARHAWK'S HOUSE. Frank Pocock. Frederick Barker. A Zanzibar boy. Edward Pocock. Kalula. Bull-terrier "Jack." "Bull." Retriever "Nero." Mastiff "Captain." Prize Mastiff "Castor." (_From a Photograph by Mr. Stanley._)] "Life at Zanzibar is a busy one to the intending explorer. Time flies rapidly, and each moment of daylight must be employed in the selection and purchase of the various kinds of cloth, beads, and wire in demand by the different tribes of the mainland through whose countries he purposes journeying. Strong, half-naked porters come in with great bales of unbleached cottons, striped and colored fabrics, handkerchiefs and red caps, bags of blue, green, red, white, and amber-colored beads, small and large, round and oval, and coils upon coils of thick brass wire. These have to be inspected, assorted, arranged, and numbered separately, have to be packed in portable bales, sacks, or packages, or boxed, according to their character and value. The house-floors are littered with cast-off wrappings and covers, box-lids, and a medley of rejected paper, cloth, zinc covers, and broken boards, sawdust, and other _débris_. Porters and servants and masters, employees and employers, pass backward and forward, to and fro, amid all this litter, roll bales over, or tumble about boxes; and a rending of cloth or paper, clattering of hammers, demands for the marking-pots, or the number of bale and box, with quick, hurried breathing and shouting, are heard from early morning until night. [Illustration: THE BRITISH CONSULATE AT ZANZIBAR.] "During the day the beach throughout its length is alive with the moving figures of porters, bearing clove and cinnamon bags, ivory, copal and other gums, and hides, to be shipped in the lighters waiting along the water's edge, with sailors from the shipping, and black boatmen discharging the various imports on the sand. In the evening the beach is crowded with the naked forms of workmen and boys from the 'go-downs,' preparing to bathe and wash the dust of copal and hides off their bodies in the surf. Some of the Arab merchants have ordered chairs on the piers, or bunders, to chat sociably until the sun sets, and prayer-time has come. Boats hurry by with their masters and sailors returning to their respective vessels. Dhows move sluggishly past, hoisting as they go the creaking yards of their lateen sails, bound for the mainland ports. Zanzibar canoes and 'matepes' are arriving with wood and produce, and others of the same native form and make are squaring their mat sails, outward bound. Sunset approaches, and after sunset silence follows soon. For as there are no wheeled carriages with the eternal rumble of their traffic in Zanzibar, with the early evening comes early peace and rest. [Illustration: SEYYID BARGHASH.] "Barghash bin Sayid, the Sultan of Zanzibar, heartily approved the objects of the expedition and gave it practical aid. It is impossible not to feel a kindly interest in Prince Barghash, and to wish him complete success in the reforms he is now striving to bring about in his country. Here we see an Arab prince, educated in the strictest school of Islam, and accustomed to regard the black natives of Africa as the lawful prey of conquest or lust, and fair objects of barter, suddenly turning round at the request of European philanthropists and becoming one of the most active opponents of the slave-trade--and the spectacle must necessarily create for him many well-wishers and friends. "The prince must be considered as an independent sovereign. His territories include, besides the Zanzibar, Pemba, and Mafia islands, nearly 1000 miles of coast, and extend probably over an area of 20,000 square miles, with a population of half a million. The products of Zanzibar have enriched many Europeans who traded in them. Cloves, cinnamon, tortoise-shell, pepper, copal gum, ivory, orchilla weed, india-rubber, and hides have been exported for years; but this catalogue does not indicate a tithe of what might be produced by the judicious investment of capital. Those intending to engage in commercial enterprises would do well to study works on Mauritius, Natal, and the Portuguese territories, if they wish to understand what these fine, fertile lands are capable of. The cocoa-nut palm flourishes at Zanzibar and on the mainland, the oil palm thrives luxuriantly in Pemba, and sugar-cane will grow everywhere. Caoutchouc remains undeveloped in the maritime belts of woodland, and the acacia forests, with their wealth of gums, are nearly untouched. Rice is sown on the Rufiji banks, and yields abundantly; cotton would thrive in any of the rich river bottoms; and then there are, besides, the grains, millet, Indian corn, and many others, the cultivation of which, though only in a languid way, the natives understand. The cattle, coffee, and goats of the interior await also the energetic man of capital and the commercial genius. "Those whom we call the Arabs of Zanzibar are either natives of Muscat who have immigrated thither to seek their fortunes, or descendants of the conquerors of the Portuguese; many of them are descended from the Arab conquerors who accompanied Seyyid Sultan, the grandfather of the present Seyyid Barghash. While many of these descendants of the old settlers still cling to their homesteads, farms, and plantations, and acquire sufficient competence by the cultivation of cloves, cinnamon, oranges, cocoa-nut palms, sugar-cane, and other produce, a great number have emigrated into the interior to form new colonies. Hamed Ibrahim has been eighteen years in Karagwé, Muini Kheri has been thirty years in Ujiji, Sultan bin Ali has been twenty-five years in Unyanyembé, Muini Dugumbi has been eight years in Nyangwé, Juma Merikani has been seven years in Rua, and a number of other prominent Arabs may be cited to prove that, though they themselves firmly believe that they will return to the coast some day, there are too many reasons for believing that they never will. "The Arabs of Zanzibar, whether from more frequent intercourse with Europeans or from other causes, are undoubtedly the best of their race. More easily amenable to reason than those of Egypt, or the shy, reserved, and bigoted fanatics of Arabia, they offer no obstacles to the European traveller, but are sociable, frank, good-natured, and hospitable. In business they are keen traders, and of course will exact the highest percentage of profit out of the unsuspecting European if they are permitted. They are stanch friends and desperate haters. Blood is seldom satisfied without blood, unless extraordinary sacrifices are made. The conduct of an Arab gentleman is perfect. Impertinence is hushed instantly by the elders, and rudeness is never permitted. [Illustration: A ZANZIBAR NURSE-MAID.] "After the Arabs let us regard the Wangwana, or negro natives of Zanzibar, just as in Europe, after studying the condition and character of the middle-classes, we might turn to reflect upon that of the laboring population. "After nearly seven years' acquaintance with the Wangwana, I have come to perceive that they represent in their character much of the disposition of a large portion of the negro tribes of the continent. I find them capable of great love and affection, and possessed of gratitude and other noble traits of human nature; I know, too, that they can be made good, obedient servants, that many are clever, honest, industrious, docile, enterprising, brave, and moral; that they are, in short, equal to any other race or color on the face of the globe, in all the attributes of manhood. But to be able to perceive their worth, the traveller must bring an unprejudiced judgment, a clear, fresh, and patient observation, and must forget that lofty standard of excellence upon which he and his race pride themselves, before he can fairly appreciate the capabilities of the Zanzibar negro. The traveller should not forget the origin of his own race, the condition of the Briton before St. Augustine visited his country, but should rather recall to mind the first state of the 'wild Caledonian,' and the original circumstances and surroundings of primitive man. "Being, I hope, free from prejudices of caste, color, race, or nationality, and endeavoring to pass what I believe to be a just judgment upon the negroes of Zanzibar, I find that they are a people just emerged into the Iron Epoch, and now thrust forcibly under the notice of nations who have left them behind by the improvements of over four thousand years. They possess beyond doubt all the vices of a people still fixed deeply in barbarism, but they understand to the full what and how low such a state is; it is, therefore, a duty imposed upon us by the religion we profess, and by the sacred command of the Son of God, to help them out of the deplorable state they are now in. At any rate, before we begin to hope for the improvement of races so long benighted, let us leave off this impotent bewailing of their vices, and endeavor to discover some of the virtues they possess as men, for it must be with the aid of their virtues, and not by their vices, that the missionary of civilization can ever hope to assist them. [Illustration: LADY OF ZANZIBAR READING AN ARABIC MANUSCRIPT.] "It is to the Wangwana that Livingstone, Burton, Speke, and Grant owe, in great part, the accomplishment of their objects, and while in the employ of those explorers, this race rendered great services to geography. From a considerable distance north of the equator down to the Zambezi and across Africa to Benguella and the mouth of the Congo, or Livingstone, they have made their names familiar to tribes who, but for the Wangwana, would have remained ignorant to this day of all things outside their own settlements. They possess, with many weaknesses, many fine qualities. While very superstitious, easily inclined to despair, and readily giving ear to vague, unreasonable fears, they may also, by judicious management, be induced to laugh at their own credulity and roused to a courageous attitude, to endure like stoics, and fight like heroes. It will depend altogether upon the leader of a body of such men whether their worst or best qualities shall prevail. [Illustration: NATIVE WATER-CARRIER, ZANZIBAR.] "There is another class coming into notice from the interior of Africa, who, though of a sterner nature, will, I am convinced, as they are better known, become greater favorites than the Wangwana. I refer to the Wanyamwezi, or the natives of Unyamwezi, and the Wasukuma, or the people of Usukuma. Naturally, being a grade less advanced towards civilization than the Wangwana, they are not so amenable to discipline as the latter. While explorers would in the present state of acquaintance prefer the Wangwana as escort, the Wanyamwezi are far superior as porters. Their greater freedom from diseases, their greater strength and endurance, the pride they take in their profession of porters, prove them born travellers of incalculable use and benefit to Africa. If kindly treated, I do not know more docile and good-natured creatures. Their skill in war, tenacity of purpose, and determination to defend the rights of their elected chief against foreigners, have furnished themes for song to the bards of Central Africa. The English discoverer of Lake Tanganika and, finally, I myself have been equally indebted to them, both on my first and last expeditions. "From their numbers, and their many excellent qualities, I am led to think that the day will come when they will be regarded as something better than the 'best of pagazis;' that they will be esteemed as the good subjects of some enlightened power, who will train them up as the nucleus of a great African nation, as powerful for the good of the Dark Continent, as they threaten, under the present condition of things, to be for its evil." Here Frank paused and announced an intermission of ten minutes, to enable the reader to rest a little. During the intermission the youths discussed what they had heard, and agreed unanimously that the description of Zanzibar and its people and their ruler was very interesting. [Illustration: HINDOO MERCHANT OF ZANZIBAR.] CHAPTER II. TRANSPORTATION IN AFRICA.--MEN AS BEASTS OF BURDEN.--PORTERS, AND THEIR PECULIARITIES.--ENGAGING MEN FOR THE EXPEDITION.--A _SHAURI_.--TROUBLES WITH THE _LADY ALICE_.--AGREEMENT BETWEEN STANLEY AND HIS MEN.--DEPARTURE FROM ZANZIBAR.--BAGAMOYO.--THE UNIVERSITIES MISSION.--DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.--DIFFICULTIES WITH THE PORTERS.--SUFFERINGS ON THE MARCH.--NATIVE SUSPENSION-BRIDGES.--SHOOTING A ZEBRA.--LOSSES BY DESERTION. Before the reading was resumed, one of the youths asked if Zanzibar was the usual starting-point for expeditions for the exploration of Africa. Mr. Stanley was absent at the moment the question was asked, but the answer was readily given by Doctor Bronson. "Zanzibar is the usual starting-point," said the Doctor, "but it is by no means the only one. Livingstone's expedition for exploring the Zambesi River set out from Zanzibar, and so did other expeditions of the great missionary. Burton and Speke started from there in 1856, when they discovered Lake Tanganika; and, four years later, Speke and Grant set out from the same place. Lieutenant Cameron, in his journey across Africa, made Zanzibar his starting point; and the expedition of Mr. Johnson to the Kilimandjaro Mountain was chiefly outfitted there, though it left the coast at Mombasa. "Zanzibar," continued Doctor Bronson, "is the best point of departure for an inland expedition anywhere along the east coast of Africa, for the reason that it is the largest and most important place of trade. Its shops are well supplied with the goods that an explorer needs for his journey, and its merchants have a better reputation than those of other African ports. Everything in the interior of Africa must be carried on the backs of men, there being, as yet, no other system of transportation. Horses cannot live in certain parts of the interior of Africa, owing to the tsetse-fly, which kills them with its bites; and even were it not for this fly, it is likely that the heat of the climate would render them of little use. Occasionally, a traveller endeavors to use donkeys as beasts of burden, but these animals are scarce and dear, and of much less use than in other lands. Until Africa is provided with railways--and that will not be for a long while yet--the transportation must be done by men. Every caravan that leaves the coast for the interior of the continent requires a large number of porters; and the difficulty of obtaining them is one of the greatest annoyances to merchants and travellers." [Illustration: NEGRO NURSE-MAID, ZANZIBAR.] One of the youths said he supposed it was because the demand was so great that there was not a sufficient number of men. "Not at all," replied the Doctor. "There are plenty of men in Africa, but they are not particularly anxious to work. Their wants are few, and they can live upon very little; consequently they are not over-desirous to go on a journey of several hundred miles and carry heavy burdens on their shoulders or heads. Added to their laziness is a lack of a feeling of responsibility or of honor. After engaging to go on a journey they fail to appear at the appointed time, and whenever they are weary of their work they coolly drop their burdens at the side of the road and make off into the bushes. In the first few days of a journey a traveller is always deserted by many of his porters, and it is only when he gets far from the coast and has possibly entered an enemy's country that he can keep his men together. All travellers have the same story to tell, and they all agree that the Zanzibari porters are the most faithful of all in keeping their engagements, or, to say it better, the least unfaithful. For this reason, also, Zanzibar is a favorite starting-point for explorers. Frank will now read to us about the difficulties which Mr. Stanley encountered in outfitting his expedition." [Illustration: A ZANZIBAR BRIDE.] Acting upon this hint, Frank opened the book and read as follows: "It is a most sobering employment, the organizing of an African expedition. You are constantly engaged, mind and body; now in casting up accounts, and now travelling to and fro hurriedly to receive messengers, inspecting purchases, bargaining with keen-eyed, relentless Hindi merchants, writing memoranda, haggling over extortionate prices, packing up a multitude of small utilities, pondering upon your lists of articles, wanted, purchased, and unpurchased, groping about in the recesses of a highly exercised imagination for what you ought to purchase, and can not do without, superintending, arranging, assorting, and packing. And this under a temperature of 95° Fahr. "In the midst of all this terrific, high-pressure exercise arrives the first batch of applicants for employment. For it has long ago been bruited abroad that I am ready to enlist all able-bodied human beings willing to carry a load. Ever since I arrived at Zanzibar I have had a very good reputation among Arabs and Wangwana. They have not forgotten that it was I who found the 'old white man'--Livingstone--in Ujiji, nor that liberality and kindness to my men were my special characteristics. They have also, with the true Oriental spirit of exaggeration, proclaimed that I was but a few months absent; and that, after this brief excursion, they returned to their homes to enjoy the liberal pay awarded them, feeling rather the better for the trip than otherwise. This unsought-for reputation brought on me the laborious task of selecting proper men out of an extraordinary number of applicants. Almost all the cripples, the palsied, the consumptive, and the superannuated that Zanzibar could furnish applied to be enrolled on the muster-list, but these, subjected to a searching examination, were refused. Hard upon their heels came all the roughs, rowdies, and ruffians of the island, and these, schooled by their fellows, were not so easily detected. Slaves were also refused, as being too much under the influence and instruction of their masters, and yet many were engaged of whose character I had not the least conception, until, months afterwards, I learned from their quarrels in the camp how I had been misled by the clever rogues. [Illustration: WINDOW OF AN ARAB HOUSE, ZANZIBAR.] "All those who bore good characters on the Search Expedition, and had been despatched to the assistance of Livingstone in 1872, were employed without delay. Out of these the chiefs were selected: these were Manwa Sera, Chowpereh, Wadi Rehani, Kachéché, Zaidi, Chakanja, Farjalla, Wadi Safeni, Bukhet, Mabruki Manyapara, Mabruki Unyanyembé, Muini Pembé, Ferahan, Bwana Muri, Khamseen, Mabruki Speke, Simba, Gardner, Hamoidah, Zaidi Mganda, and Ulimengo. [Illustration: COXSWAIN ULEDI, AND MANWA SERA, CHIEF CAPTAIN. (_From a Photograph._)] "All great enterprises require a preliminary deliberative palaver, or, as the Wangwana call it, 'Shauri.' In East Africa, particularly, shauris are much in vogue. Precipitate, energetic action is dreaded. '_Poli, poli!_' or 'Gently!' is the warning word of caution given. "The chiefs arranged themselves in a semicircle on the day of the shauri, and I sat _à la Turque_ fronting them. 'What is it, my friends? Speak your minds.' They hummed and hawed, looked at one another, as if on their neighbor's faces they might discover the purport of their coming, but, all hesitating to begin, finally broke down in a loud laugh. "Manwa Sera, always grave, unless hit dexterously with a joke, hereupon affected anger, and said, '_You_ speak, son of Safeni; verily we act like children! Will the master eat us?' "Wadi, son of Safeni, thus encouraged to perform the spokesman's duty, hesitates exactly two seconds, and then ventures with diplomatic blandness and _graciosity_. 'We have come, master, with words. Listen. It is well we should know every step before we leap. A traveller journeys not without knowing whither he wanders. We have come to ascertain what lands you are bound for.' "Imitating the son of Safeni's gracious blandness, and his low tone of voice, as though the information about to be imparted to the intensely interested and eagerly listening group were too important to speak it loud, I described in brief outline the prospective journey, in broken Kiswahili. As country after country was mentioned of which they had hitherto had but vague ideas, and river after river, lake after lake named, all of which I hoped with their trusty aid to explore carefully, various ejaculations expressive of wonder or joy, mixed with a little alarm, broke from their lips, but when I concluded, each of the group drew a long breath, and almost simultaneously they uttered, admiringly, 'Ah, fellows, this is a journey worthy to be called a journey!' [Illustration: A MERCHANT OF ZANZIBAR.] "'But, master,' said they, after recovering themselves, 'this long journey will take years to travel--six, nine, or ten years.' 'Nonsense,' I replied. 'Six, nine, or ten years! What can you be thinking of? It takes the Arabs nearly three years to reach Ujiji, it is true, but, if you remember, I was but sixteen months from Zanzibar to Ujiji and back. Is it not so?' 'Ay, true,' they answered. 'Very well, and I assure you I have not come to live in Africa. I have come simply to see those rivers and lakes, and after I have seen them to return home. You remember while going to Ujiji I permitted the guide to show the way, but when we were returning who was it that led the way? Was it not I, by means of that little compass which could not lie like the guide?' 'Ay, true, master, true every word!' 'Very well, then, let us finish the shauri, and go. To-morrow we will make a proper agreement before the consul;' and, in Scriptural phrase, 'they forthwith arose and did as they were commanded.' "Upon receiving information from the coast that there was a very large number of men waiting for me, I became still more fastidious in my choice. But with all my care and gift of selection, I was mortified to discover that many faces and characters had baffled the rigorous scrutiny to which I had subjected them, and that some scores of the most abandoned and depraved characters on the island had been enlisted by me on the expedition. One man, named Msenna, imposed upon me by assuming such a contrite, penitent look, and weeping such copious tears, when I informed him that he had too bad a character to be employed, that my good-nature was prevailed upon to accept his services, upon the understanding that, if he indulged his murderous propensities in Africa, I should return him chained the entire distance to Zanzibar, to be dealt with by his prince. He delivered his appeal with impassioned accents and lively gestures, which produced a great effect upon the mixed audience who listened to him, and, gathering from their faces more than from my own convictions that he had been much abused and very much misunderstood, his services were accepted, and as he appeared to be an influential man, he was appointed a junior captain with prospects of promotion and higher pay. "Subsequently, however, on the shores of Lake Victoria it was discovered--for in Africa people are uncommonly communicative--that Msenna had murdered eight people, that he was a ruffian of the worst sort, and that the merchants of Zanzibar had experienced great relief when they heard that the notorious Msenna was about to bid farewell for a season to the scene of so many of his wild exploits. Msenna was only one of many of his kind, but I have given in detail the manner of his enlistment that my position may be better understood. "The weight of a porter's load should not exceed sixty pounds. On the arrival of the sectional exploring boat _Lady Alice_, great were my vexation and astonishment when I discovered that four of the sections weighed two hundred and eighty pounds each, and that one weighed three hundred and ten pounds! She was, it is true, a marvel of workmanship, and an exquisite model of a boat, such, indeed, as few builders in England or America could rival, but in her present condition her carriage through the jungles would necessitate a pioneer force a hundred strong to clear the impediments and obstacles on the road. [Illustration: TARYA TOPAN.] "I found an English carpenter named Ferris, to whom I showed the boat and explained that the narrowness of the path would make her portage absolutely impossible, for since the path was often only eighteen inches wide in Africa, and hemmed in on each side with dense jungle, any package six feet broad could by no means be conveyed along it. It was therefore necessary that each of the four sections should be subdivided, by which means I should obtain eight portable sections, each three feet wide. Mr. Ferris, perfectly comprehending his instructions, and with the aid given by the young Pococks, furnished me within two weeks with the newly modelled _Lady Alice_. Meantime I was busy purchasing cloth, beads, wire, and other African goods, the most of them coming from the establishment of Tarya Topan, one of the millionaire merchants of Zanzibar. I made Tarya's acquaintance in 1871, and the righteous manner in which he then dealt by me caused me now to proceed to him again for the same purpose as formerly. "The total weight of goods, cloth, beads, wire, stores, medicine, bedding, clothes, tents, ammunition, boat, oars, rudders and thwarts, instruments and stationery, photographic apparatus, dry plates, and miscellaneous articles too numerous to mention, weighed a little over eighteen thousand pounds, or rather more than eight tons, divided as nearly as possible into loads weighing sixty pounds each, and requiring therefore the carrying capacity of three hundred men. The loads were made more than usually light, in order that we might travel with celerity, and not fatigue the people. "But still further to provide against sickness and weakness, a supernumerary force of forty men were recruited at Bagamoyo, Konduchi, and the Rufiji delta, who were required to assemble in the neighborhood of the first-mentioned place. Two hundred and thirty men, consisting of Wangwana, Wanyamwezi, and coast people from Mombasa, Tanga, and Saadani, affixed their marks opposite their names before the American consul, for wages varying from two to ten dollars per month and rations, according to their capacity, strength, and intelligence, with the understanding that they were to serve for two years, or until such time as their services should be no longer required in Africa, and were to perform their duties cheerfully and promptly. "On the day of 'signing' the contract each adult received an advance of twenty dollars, or four months' pay, and each youth ten dollars, or four months' pay. Ration money was also paid them from the time of first enlistment, at the rate of one dollar per week, up to the day we left the coast. The entire amount disbursed in cash for advances of pay and rations at Zanzibar and Bagamoyo was $6260, or nearly thirteen hundred pounds. "The obligations, however, were not all on one side. Besides the due payment to them of their wages, I was compelled to bind myself to them, on the word of an 'honorable white man,' to observe the following conditions as to conduct towards them: "1st. That I should treat them kindly, and be patient with them. "2d. That in cases of sickness, I should dose them with proper medicine, and see them nourished with the best the country afforded. That if patients were unable to proceed, they should be conveyed to such places as should be considered safe for their persons and their freedom, and convenient for their return, on convalescence, to their friends. That, with all patients thus left behind, I should leave sufficient cloth or beads to pay the native practitioner for his professional attendance, and for the support of the patient. "3d. That in cases of disagreement between man and man, I should judge justly, honestly, and impartially. That I should do my utmost to prevent the ill-treatment of the weak by the strong, and never permit the oppression of those unable to resist. [Illustration: UNIVERSITIES MISSION AT MBWENNI, ZANZIBAR.] "That I should act like a 'father and mother' to them, and to the best of my ability resist all violence offered to them by 'savage natives, and roving and lawless banditti.' "They also promised, upon the above conditions being fulfilled, that they would do their duty like men, would honor and respect my instructions, giving me their united support, and endeavoring to the best of their ability to be faithful servants, and would never desert me in the hour of need. In short, that they would behave like good and loyal children, and 'may the blessing of God,' said they 'be upon us.' "How we kept this bond of mutual trust and forbearance will be best seen in the following chapters, which record the strange and eventful story of our journeys. "The fleet of six Arab vessels which were to bear us away to the west across the Zanzibar Sea were at last brought to anchor a few yards from the wharf of the American Consulate. The Wangwana, true to their promise that they would be ready, appeared with their bundles and mats, and proceeded to take their places in the vessels waiting for them. As fast as each dhow was reported to be filled, the _nakhuda_, or captain, was directed to anchor farther off shore to await the signal to sail. By 5 P.M., of the 12th of November, 224 men had responded to their names, and five of the Arab vessels, laden with the _personnel_, cattle, and _matériel_ of the expedition, were impatiently waiting, with anchor heaved short, the word of command. One vessel still lay close ashore, to convey myself, and Frederick Barker--in charge of the personal servants--our baggage, and dogs. Turning round to my constant and well-tried friend, Mr. Augustus Sparhawk, I fervently clasped his hand, and with a full heart, though halting tongue, attempted to pour out my feelings of gratitude for his kindness and long-sustained hospitality, my keen regret at parting, and hopes of meeting again. But I was too agitated to be eloquent, and all my forced gayety could not carry me through the ordeal. So we parted in almost total silence, but I felt assured that he would judge my emotions by his own feelings. [Illustration: HAREM IN THE HOUSE OF THE SECRETARY OF THE SULTAN OF ZANZIBAR.] "A wave of my hand, and the anchors were hove up and laid within ship, and then, hoisting our lateen sails, we bore away westward to launch ourselves into the arms of Fortune. Many wavings of kerchiefs and hats, parting signals from white hands, and last long looks at friendly white faces, final confused impressions of the grouped figures of our well-wishers, and then the evening breeze had swept us away into mid-sea, beyond reach of recognition. [Illustration: "TOWARDS THE DARK CONTINENT."] "The parting is over! We have said our last words for years, perhaps forever, to kindly men! The sun sinks fast to the western horizon, and gloomy is the twilight that now deepens and darkens. Thick shadows fall upon the distant land and over the silent sea, and oppress our throbbing, regretful hearts, as we glide away through the dying light towards the Dark Continent. "Upon landing at Bagamoyo, on the morning of the 13th of November, we marched to occupy the old house where we had stayed so long to prepare the first expedition. The goods were stored, the dogs chained up, the riding asses tethered, the rifles arrayed in the store-room, and the sectional boat laid under a roof close by, on rollers, to prevent injury from the white ants--a precaution which, I need hardly say, we had to observe throughout our journey. Then some more ration money, sufficient for ten days, had to be distributed among the men, the young Pococks were told off to various camp duties, to initiate them to exploring life in Africa, and then, after the first confusion of arrival had subsided, I began to muster the new _engagés_. "There is an institution at Bagamoyo which ought not to be passed over without remark, but the subject cannot be properly dealt with until I have described the similar institution, of equal importance, at Zanzibar: viz., the Universities Mission. Besides, I have three pupils of the Universities Mission who are about to accompany me into Africa--Robert Feruzi, Andrew, and Dallington. Robert is a stout lad of eighteen years old, formerly a servant to one of the members of Lieutenant Cameron's expedition. Andrew is a strong youth of nineteen years, rather reserved, and, I should say, not of a very bright disposition. Dallington is much younger, probably only fifteen, with a face strongly pitted with traces of a violent attack of small-pox, but as bright and intelligent as any boy of his age, white or black. "The Universities Mission is the result of the sensation caused in England by Livingstone's discoveries on the Zambezi and of Lakes Nyassa and Shirwa. It was despatched by the universities of Oxford and Cambridge in the year 1860, and consisted of Bishop Mackenzie, formerly Archdeacon of Natal, and the Rev. Messrs. Proctor, Scudamore, Burrup, and Rowley. It was established at first in the Zambesi country, but was moved, a few years later, to Zanzibar. Several of the reverend gentlemen connected with it have died at their post of duty, Bishop Mackenzie being the first to fall, but the work goes on. The mission at Bagamoyo is in charge of four French priests, eight brothers, and twelve sisters, with ten lay brothers employed in teaching agriculture. The French fathers superintend the tuition of two hundred and fifty children, and give employment to about eighty adults. One hundred and seventy freed slaves were furnished from the slave captures made by British cruisers. They are taught to earn their own living as soon as they arrive of age, and are furnished with comfortable lodgings, clothing, and household utensils. [Illustration: SCENE IN BAGAMOYO.] "'Notre Dame de Bagamoyo' is situated about a mile and a half north of Bagamoyo, overlooking the sea, which washes the shores just at the base of the tolerably high ground on which the mission buildings stand. Thrift, order, and that peculiar style of neatness common to the French are its characteristics. The cocoa-nut palm, orange, and mango flourish in this pious settlement, while a variety of garden vegetables and grain are cultivated in the fields; and broad roads, cleanly kept, traverse the estate. During the superior's late visit to France he obtained a considerable sum for the support of the mission, and he has lately established a branch mission at Kidudwe. It is evident that, if supported constantly by his friends in France, the superior will extend his work still farther into the interior, and it is therefore safe to predict that the road to Ujiji will in time possess a chain of mission stations affording the future European trader and traveller safe retreats with the conveniences of civilized life.[2] [2] Mr. Stanley's words were prophetic. Since the above was written a mission has been established at Ujiji and several other missions at points along the road between Lake Tanganika and Bagamoyo. "There are two other missions on the east coast of Africa: that of the Church Missionary Society, and the Methodist Free Church at Mombasa. The former has occupied this station for over thirty years, and has a branch establishment at Rabbai Mpia, the home of the Dutch missionaries, Krapf, Rebmann, and Erhardt. But these missions have not obtained the success which such long self-abnegation and devotion to the pious service deserved. "On the morning of the 17th of November, 1874, the first bold step for the interior was taken. The bugle mustered the people to rank themselves before our quarters, and each man's load was given to him according as we judged his power of bearing burden. To the man of strong, sturdy make, with a large development of muscle, the cloth bale of sixty pounds was given, which would in a couple of months, by constant expenditure, be reduced to fifty pounds, in six months perhaps to forty pounds, and in a year to about thirty pounds, provided that all his comrades were faithful to their duties; to the short, compactly-formed man, the bead-sack, of fifty pounds' weight; to the light youth of eighteen or twenty years old, the box of forty pounds, containing stores, ammunition, and sundries. To the steady, respectable, grave-looking men of advanced years, the scientific instruments, thermometers, barometers, watches, sextant, mercury-bottles, compasses, pedometers, photographic apparatus, dry plates, stationery, and scientific books, all packed in forty-pound cases, were distributed; while the man most highly recommended for steadiness and cautious tread was intrusted with the carriage of the three chronometers, which were stowed in balls of cotton, in a light case weighing not more than twenty-five pounds. The twelve Kirangozis, or guides, tricked out this day in flowing robes of crimson blanket-cloth, demanded the privilege of conveying the several loads of brass-wire coils; and as they form the second advanced guard, and are active, bold youths--some of whom are to be hereafter known as the boat's crew, and to be distinguished by me above all others except the chiefs--they are armed with Snider rifles, with their respective accoutrements. The boat-carriers are herculean in figure and strength, for they are practised bearers of loads, having resigned their ignoble profession of hamal in Zanzibar to carry sections of the first Europe-made boat that ever floated on Lakes Victoria and Tanganika and the extreme sources of the Nile and the Livingstone. To each section of the boat there are four men, to relieve one another in couples. They get higher pay than even the chiefs, except the chief captain, Manwa Sera, and, besides receiving double rations, have the privilege of taking their wives along with them. There are six riding asses also in the expedition, all saddled, one for each of the Europeans--the two Pococks, Barker, and myself--and two for the sick; for the latter there are also three of Seydel's net hammocks, with six men to act as a kind of ambulance party. [Illustration: WIFE OF MANWA SERA. (_From a Photograph._)] "At nine A.M. we file out of Bagamoyo in the following order: Four chiefs a few hundred yards in front; next the twelve guides, clad in red robes of Jobo, bearing the wire coils; then a long file of two hundred and seventy strong, bearing cloth, wire, beads, and sections of the _Lady Alice_; after them thirty-six women and ten boys, children of some of the chiefs and boat-bearers, following their mothers and assisting them with trifling loads of utensils, followed by the riding asses, Europeans, and gun-bearers; the long line closed by sixteen chiefs who act as rear-guard, and whose duties are to pick up stragglers, and act as supernumeraries until other men can be procured; in all, three hundred and fifty-six souls connected with the Anglo-American expedition. The lengthy line occupies nearly half a mile of the path which, at the present day, is the commercial and exploring highway into the lake regions. "Edward Pocock acts as bugler, and he has familiarized Hamadi, the chief guide, with its notes, so that, in case of a halt being required, Hamadi may be informed immediately. The chief guide is also armed with a prodigiously long horn of ivory, his favorite instrument, and one that belongs to his profession, which he has permission to use only when approaching a suitable camping-place, or to notify to us danger in the front. Before Hamadi strides a chubby little boy with a native drum, which he is to beat only when in the neighborhood of villages, to warn them of the advance of a caravan, a caution most requisite, for many villages are situated in the midst of a dense jungle, and the sudden arrival of a large force of strangers before they had time to hide their little belongings might awaken jealousy and distrust. "In this manner we begin our long journey, full of hopes. There is noise and laughter along the ranks, and a hum of gay voices murmuring through the fields, as we rise and descend with the waves of the land and wind with the sinuosities of the path. Motion had restored us all to a sense of satisfaction. We had an intensely bright and fervid sun shining above us, the path was dry, hard, and admirably fit for travel, and during the commencement of our first march nothing could be conceived in better order than the lengthy, thin column about to confront the wilderness. [Illustration: A LEADING CITIZEN OF BAGAMOYO.] "Presently, however, the fervor of the dazzling sun grows overpowering as we descend into the valley of the Kingani River. The ranks become broken and disordered; stragglers are many; the men complain of the terrible heat; the dogs pant in agony. Even we ourselves, under our solah topees, with flushed faces and perspiring brows, with handkerchiefs ever in use to wipe away the drops which almost blind us, and our heavy woollens giving us a feeling of semi-asphyxiation, would fain rest, were it not that the sun-bleached levels of the tawny, thirsty valley offer no inducements. The veterans of travel push on towards the river, three miles distant, where they may obtain rest and shelter, but the inexperienced are lying prostrate on the ground, exclaiming against the heat, and crying for water, bewailing their folly in leaving Zanzibar. We stop to tell them to rest awhile, and then to come on to the river, where they will find us; we advise, encourage, and console the irritated people as best we can, and tell them that it is only the commencement of a journey that is so hard; that all this pain and weariness are always felt by beginners, but that by and by it is shaken off, and that those who are steadfast emerge out of the struggle heroes. "Frank and his brother Edward, despatched to the ferry at the beginning of these delays, have now got the sectional boat _Lady Alice_ all ready, and the ferrying of men, goods, asses, and dogs across the Kingani is prosecuted with vigor, and at 3.30 P.M. the boat is again in pieces, slung on the bearing-poles, and the expedition has resumed its journey to Kikoka, the first halting-place. "But before we reach camp we have acquired a fair idea as to how many of our people are stanch and capable, and how many are too feeble to endure the fatigues of bearing loads. The magnificent prize mastiff dog Castor died of heat apoplexy within two miles of Kikoka, and the other mastiff, Captain, seems likely to follow soon, and only Nero, Bull, and Jack, though prostrate and breathing hard, show any signs of life. "At Kikoka, then, we rest the next day. We discharge two men, who have been taken seriously ill, and several new recruits, who arrive at camp during the night preceding and this day, are engaged. "As there are so many subjects to be touched upon along the seven thousand miles of explored lines, I propose to be brief with the incidents and descriptive sketches of our route to Ituru, because the country for two thirds of the way has been sufficiently described in 'How I Found Livingstone' and elsewhere. [Illustration: THE EXPEDITION AT ROSAKO.] "At Rosako the route began to diverge from that which led to Msuwa and Simba-Mwenni, and opened out on a stretch of beautiful park land, green as an English lawn, dipping into lovely vales, and rising into gentle ridges. Thin, shallow threads of water, in furrow-like beds or in deep, narrow ditches, which expose the sandstone strata on which the fat, ochreous soil rests, run in mazy curves round forest clumps or through jungle tangles, and wind about among the higher elevations, on their way towards the Wami River. We followed this river for some distance, crossing it several times at fords where the water was about two and a half feet deep. At one of the fords there was a curious suspension-bridge over the river, constructed of llianes, with great ingenuity, by the natives. The banks were at this point sixteen feet high above the river, and from bank to bank the distance was only thirty yards; it was evident, therefore, that the river must be a dangerous torrent during the rainy season. "On the 3d of December we came to the Mkundi River, a tributary of the Wami, which divides Nguru country from Usagara. Simba-Mwenni--the Lion Lord--owns five villages in this neighborhood. He was generous, and gratified us with a gift of a sheep, some flour, and plantains, accepting with pleasure some cloth in return. "The Wa-Nguru are fond of black and white beads and brass wire. They split the lobes of their ears, and introduce such curious things as the necks of gourds or round disks of wood to extend the gash. A medley of strange things are worn round the neck, such as tiny goats' horns, small brass chains, and large, egglike beads. Blue Kaniki and the red-barred Barsati are the favorite cloths in this region. The natives dye their faces with ochre, and, probably influenced by the example of the Wanyamwezi, dress their hair in long ringlets, which are adorned with pendicles of copper, or white or red beads of the large Sam-sam pattern. "Grand and impressive scenery meets the eye as we march to Makubika, where we attain an altitude of two thousand six hundred and seventy-five feet above the ocean. Peaks and knolls rise in all directions, for we are now ascending to the eastern front of the Kaguru Mountains. The summits of Ukamba are seen to the north, its slopes famous for the multitude of elephants. Farther inland we reached the spine of a hill at four thousand four hundred and ninety feet, and beheld an extensive plain, stretching northwest and west, with browsing herds of noble game. Camping on its verge, between a humpy hill and some rocky knolls, near a beautiful pond of crystal-clear water, I proceeded with my gun-bearer, Billali, and the notorious Msenna, in the hope of bringing down something for the Wangwana. "The plain was broader than I had judged it by the eye from the crest of the hill whence we had first sighted it. It was not until we had walked briskly over a long stretch of tawny grass, crushed by sheer force through a brambly jungle, and trampled down a path through clumps of slender cane-stalks, that we came at last in view of a small herd of zebras. These animals are so quick of scent and ear, and so vigilant with their eyes, that, across an open space, it is most difficult to stalk them. But, by dint of tremendous exertion, I contrived to approach within two hundred and fifty yards, taking advantage of every thin tussock of grass, and, almost at random, fired. One of the herd leaped from the ground, galloped a few short, maddened strides, and then, on a sudden, staggered, kneeled, trembled, and fell over, its legs kicking the air. Its companions whinnied shrilly for their mate, and presently, wheeling in circles with graceful motion, advanced nearer, still whinnying, until I dropped another, with a crushing ball through the head--much against my wish, for I think zebras were created for better purpose than to be eaten. The remnant of the herd vanished. [Illustration: VIEW FROM THE VILLAGE OF MAMBOYA.] "Billali, requested to run to camp to procure Wangwana to carry the meat, was only too happy, knowing what brave cheers and hearty congratulations would greet him. Msenna was already busy skinning one of the animals, some three hundred yards from me, when, turning my head, I made out the form of some tawny animal, that was advancing with a curious long step, and I recognized it to be a lion. I motioned to Msenna, who happened to be looking up, and beckoned him. 'What do you think it is, Msenna?' I asked. 'Simba [a lion], master,' he answered. "The animal approached slowly, while I made ready to receive him with an explosive bullet from the elephant rifle. When within three hundred yards he paused, and then turned and trotted off into a bit of scrubby jungle, about eight hundred yards away. Ten minutes elapsed, and then as many animals emerged from the same spot into which the other had disappeared, and approached us in stately column. But it being now dusk I could not discern them very clearly. We both were, however, quite sure in our own minds that they were lions, or at any rate some animals so like them in the twilight that we could not imagine them to be anything else. When the foremost had come within one hundred yards I fired. It sprang up and fell, and the others disappeared with a dreadful rush. We now heard shouts behind us, for the Wangwana had come; so, taking one or two with me, I endeavored to discover what I felt sure to be a prostrate lion, but it could not be found. "The next day Manwa Sera went out to hunt for the lion-skin, but returned after a long search with only a strong doubt in his mind as to its having been a lion, and a few reddish hairs to prove that it was something which had been eaten by hyenas. This day I succeeded in shooting a small antelope of the springbok kind. "On the 12th of December, twenty-five days' march from Bagamoyo, we arrived at Mpwapwa. [Illustration: OUR CAMP AT MPWAPWA. (_From a Photograph._)] "Mpwapwa has also some fine trees, but no forest; the largest being the tamarind, sycamore, cottonwood, and baobab. The collection of villages denominated by this title lies widely scattered on either side of the Mpwapwa stream, at the base of the southern slope of a range of mountains that extends in a sinuous line from Chunyu to Ugombo. I call it a range, because it appeared to be one from Mpwapwa; but in reality it is simply the northern flank of a deep indentation in the great mountain chain that extends from Abyssinia, or even Suez, down to the Cape of Good Hope. At the extreme eastern point of this indentation from the western side lies Lake Ugombo, just twenty-four miles from Mpwapwa. "Desertions from the expedition had been frequent. At first, Kachéché, the chief detective, and his gang of four men, who had received their instructions to follow us a day's journey behind, enabled me to recapture sixteen of the deserters; but the cunning Wangwana and Wanyamwezi soon discovered this resource of mine against their well-known freaks, and, instead of striking east in their departure, absconded either south or north of the track. We then had detectives posted long before dawn, several hundred yards away from the camp, who were bidden to lie in wait in the bush until the expedition had started, and in this manner we succeeded in repressing to some extent the disposition to desert, and arrested very many men on the point of escaping; but even this was not adequate. Fifty had abandoned us before reaching Mpwapwa, taking with them the advances they had received, and often their guns, on which our safety might depend. [Illustration: DETECTIVE AND ASSISTANTS.] "Several feeble men and women also had to be left behind, and it was evident that the very wariest methods failed to bind the people to their duties. The best of treatment and abundance of provisions daily distributed were alike insufficient to induce such faithless natures to be loyal. However, we persisted, and as often as we failed in one way we tried another. Had all these men remained loyal to their contract and promises, we should have been too strong for any force to attack us, as our numbers must necessarily have commanded respect in lands and among tribes where only power is respected. "One day's march from Mpwapwa brought us to Chunyu--an exposed and weak settlement, overlooking the desert or wilderness separating Usagara from Ugogo. Close to our right towered the Usagara Mountains, and on our left stretched the inhospitable arm of the wilderness. Fifteen or twenty miles distant to the south rose the vast cluster of Rubeho's cones and peaks. "The water at Chunyu is nitrous and bitter to the taste. The natives were once prosperous, but repeated attacks from the Wahehé to the south and the Wahumba to the north have reduced them in numbers, and compelled them to seek refuge on the hill-summits. "On the 16th of December, at early dawn, we struck camp, and at an energetic pace descended into the wilderness, and at 7 P.M. the vanguard of the expedition entered Ugogo, camping two or three miles from the frontier village of Kikombo. The next day, at a more moderate pace, we entered the populated district, and took shelter under a mighty baobab a few hundred yards distant from the chief's village." Here Frank announced that it was late in the afternoon, and he wished to take a promenade on deck. With the permission of his auditors he would postpone the narrative until evening. The proposal was accepted, but before the youth could retire he was warmly thanked by those whom he had so agreeably entertained. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN BELLE.] CHAPTER III. RETARDED BY RAINS AND OTHER MISHAPS.--GENERAL DESPONDENCY.--DEATH OF EDWARD POCOCK.--A CHANGE FOR THE BETTER.--A LAND OF PLENTY.--ARRIVAL AT VICTORIA LAKE.--NATIVE SONG.--AFLOAT ON THE GREAT LAKE.--TERRIBLE TALES OF THE INHABITANTS.--ENCOUNTERS WITH THE NATIVES.--THE VICTORIA NILE.--RIPON FALLS.--SPEKE'S EXPLORATIONS.--THE ALEXANDRA NILE.--ARRIVAL AT KING MTESA'S COURT.--A MAGNIFICENT RECEPTION.--IN THE MONARCH'S PRESENCE.--STANLEY'S FIRST OPINIONS OF MTESA. When the audience assembled in the evening Frank turned rapidly several pages of the book and said that Mr. Stanley's expedition was greatly retarded by the heavy rains which fell frequently and converted the ground into a water-soaked marsh, through which it was very difficult to proceed. Christmas day was a day of gloom, as everybody was wet and cold and hungry; the natives had little grain to sell, and the expedition was reduced to half-rations of food. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN BLACKSMITH'S-SHOP.] Mr. Stanley wrote in his diary that he weighed one hundred and eighty pounds when he left Zanzibar, but his sufferings and lack of nourishing food had brought him down to one hundred and thirty-four pounds in thirty-eight days; and the young Englishmen that accompanied him were similarly reduced. In every new territory they entered they were obliged to pay tribute to the ruler, according to the custom of Africa, and the settlement of the question of tribute required a great deal of bargaining. There were frequent desertions of men, and in many instances they had not the honesty to leave behind them their loads and guns. At one place it was discovered that fifty men had formed a conspiracy to desert in a body, but the scheme was stopped by arresting the ringleaders and disarming their followers. "Some twenty or more men were on the sick-list and too ill to walk," said Frank, "several were carried in hammocks, and others were left at the native villages, in accordance with the arrangements made at Zanzibar. The expedition halted four days at Suna, in the Warimi country, where grain was purchased at a high price, and the people seemed inclined to make trouble. The leader of the expedition was obliged to use a great deal of tact to conciliate the chiefs of this people, who are numerous and well-armed, so that an attack would have been no easy matter to resist. Edward Pocock was taken seriously ill at Suna, and carried in a hammock to Chiwyu--four hundred miles from the coast, and at an elevation of five thousand four hundred feet above the sea. In spite of all the attentions he received, he died soon after their arrival at the latter place. I will read Stanley's account of the burial of his faithful companion and friend: [Illustration: FUNERAL OF EDWARD POCOCK: VIEW OF OUR CAMP.] "We excavated a grave, four feet deep, at the foot of a hoary acacia with wide-spreading branches; and on its ancient trunk Frank engraved a deep cross, the emblem of the faith we all believe in; and, when folded in its shroud, we laid the body in its final resting-place, during the last gleams of sunset. We read the beautiful prayers of the church-service for the dead, and, out of respect for the departed--whose frank, sociable, and winning manners had won their friendship and regard--nearly all the Wangwana were present, to pay a last tribute of sighs to poor Edward Pocock. "When the last solemn prayer had been read, we retired to our tents, to brood, in sorrow and silence, over our irreparable loss." [Illustration] "By the 21st of January," said Frank, "eighty-nine men had deserted, twenty had died, and there were many sick or disabled. Mr. Stanley would have been justified in fearing that he would be obliged to abandon his expedition and retreat to the coast. The loads were reduced as much as possible, every article that could in any way be spared being thrown out and destroyed. On the 24th the natives attacked the camp, but were driven back; and another battle followed on the 25th, with the same result. On the 26th the march was resumed, and the hostile region was left behind. New men were engaged at some of the villages, the weather improved, provisions were abundant, and in the early days of February the halting-places of the expedition presented a marked contrast to those of a month earlier. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN LAMB.] "The country in which they were now travelling," Frank continued, "was a fertile region, with broad pastures, and occasional stretches of forest--a land of plenty and promise. The natives had an abundance of cattle, sheep, goats, and chickens, which they sold at low prices; they were entirely friendly to the travellers, and whenever the expedition moved away from its camps, it was urged to come again. Mr. Stanley gives the following list of prices, which he paid in this land of abundance: "1 ox 6 yards of sheeting. 1 goat 2 yards of sheeting. 1 sheep 2 yards of sheeting. 1 chicken 1 necklace. 6 chickens 2 yards of sheeting." "On the 26th of February it was reported that another day's march would bring them to the shore of the Great Nyanza, the Victoria Lake. I will now read you what Mr. Stanley says about this march, and his first view of the lake. "On the morning of the 27th of February we rose up early, and braced ourselves for the long march of nineteen miles, which terminated at 4 P.M. at the village of Kagehyi. "The people were as keenly alive to the importance of this day's march, and as fully sensitive to what this final journey to Kagehyi promised their wearied frames, as we Europeans. They, as well as ourselves, looked forward to many weeks of rest from our labors and to an abundance of good food. "When the bugle sounded the signal to 'Take the road,' the Wanyamwezi and Wangwana responded to it with cheers, and loud cries of 'Ay indeed, ay indeed, please God;' and their good-will was contagious. The natives, who had mustered strongly to witness our departure, were affected by it, and stimulated our people by declaring that the lake was not very far off--'but two or three hours' walk.' "We dipped into the basins and troughs of the land, surmounted ridge after ridge, crossed water-courses and ravines, passed by cultivated fields, and through villages smelling strongly of cattle, by good-natured groups of natives, until, ascending a long, gradual slope, we heard, on a sudden, hurrahing in front, and then we too, with the lagging rear, knew that those in the van were in view of the Great Lake! the lake which Speke discovered in 1858. [Illustration: UNYAMWEZI PORTER.] "Frank Pocock impetuously strode forward until he gained the brow of the hill. He took a long, sweeping look at something, waved his hat, and came down towards us, his face beaming with joy, as he shouted out enthusiastically, with the fervor of youth and high spirits, 'I have seen the lake, sir, and it is grand!' Frederick Barker, riding painfully on an ass, and sighing wearily from illness and the length of the journey, lifted his head to smile his thanks to his comrade. "Presently we also reached the brow of the hill, where we found the expedition halted, and the first quick view revealed to us a long, broad arm of water, which a dazzling sun transformed into silver, some six hundred feet below us, at the distance of three miles. "A more careful and detailed view of the scene showed us that the hill on which we stood sloped gradually to the broad bay or gulf edged by a line of green, wavy reeds and thin groves of umbrageous trees scattered along the shore, on which stood several small villages of conical huts. Beyond these, the lake stretched like a silvery plain far to the eastward, and away across to a boundary of dark-blue hills and mountains, while several gray, rocky islets mocked us at first with an illusion of Arab dhows with white sails. The Wanyamwezi struck up the song of triumph: "'Sing, O friends, sing; the journey is ended: Sing aloud, O friends, sing to the great Nyanza. Sing all, sing loud, O friends, sing to the great sea; Give your last look to the lands behind and then turn to the sea. "'Long time ago you left your lands, Your wives and children, your brothers and your friends: Tell me, have you seen a sea like this Since you left the great salt sea? "CHORUS. "'Then sing, O friends, sing; the journey is ended: Sing aloud, O friends: sing to this great sea. This sea is fresh, is good, and sweet; Your sea is salt, and bad, unfit to drink. This sea is like wine to drink for thirsty men; The salt sea--bah! it makes men sick.' "I have in the above (as literal a translation as I can render it) made no attempt at rhyme--nor, indeed, did the young, handsome, and stalwart Corypheus who delivered the harmonious strains with such startling effect. The song, though extemporized, was eminently dramatic, and when the chorus joined in it made the hills ring with a wild and strange harmony. Reanimated by the cheerful music, we flung the flags to the breeze, and filed slowly down the slopes towards the fields of Kagehyi. "About half a mile from the villages we were surprised by seeing hundreds of warriors decked with feathered head-dresses and armed to the teeth, advancing on the run towards us, and exhibiting, as they came, their dexterity with bows and arrows and spears. They had at first been alarmed at the long procession filing down the hill, supposing we were bent on hostilities, but, though discovering their error, they still thought it too good an opportunity to be lost for showing their bravery, and therefore amused us with this by-play. Sungoro Tarib, an Arab resident at Kagehyi, also despatched a messenger with words of welcome, and an invitation to us to make Kagehyi our camp, as Prince Kaduma, chief of Kagehyi, was his faithful ally. [Illustration: VIEW OF KAGEHYI FROM THE EDGE OF THE LAKE. (_From a Photograph._)] "In a short time we had entered the wretched-looking village, and Kaduma was easily induced by Sungoro to proffer hospitalities to the strangers. A small conical hut, about twenty feet in diameter, badly lighted, and with a strong smell of animal matter--its roof swarmed with bold rats, which, with a malicious persistence, kept popping in and out of their nests in the straw roof, and rushing over the walls--was placed at my disposal as a store-room. Another small hut was presented to Frank Pocock and Fred Barker as their quarters. "In summing up, during the evening of our arrival at this rude village on the Nyanza, the number of statute miles travelled by us, as measured by two rated pedometers and pocket watch, I ascertained it to be seven hundred and twenty. The time occupied--from November 17, 1874, to February 27, 1875, inclusive--was one hundred and three days, divided into seventy marching and thirty-three halting days, by which it will be perceived that our marches averaged a little over ten miles per day. But as halts are imperative, the more correct method of ascertaining the rate of travel would be to include the time occupied by halts and marches, and divide the total distance by the number of days occupied. This reduces the rate to seven miles per diem. "We all woke on the morning of the 28th of February with a feeling of intense relief. There were no more marches, no more bugle-calls to rouse us up for another fatiguing day, no more fear of hunger--at least for a season. "At 9 A.M. a _burzah_, or levee, was held. First came Frank and Fred--now quite recovered from fever--to bid me good-morning, and to congratulate themselves and me upon the prospective rest before us. Next came the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi chiefs, to express a hope that I had slept well, and after them the bold youths of the expedition; then came Prince Kaduma and Sungoro, to whom we were bound this day to render an account of the journey and to give the latest news from Zanzibar; and, lastly, the princess and her principal friends--for introductions have to be undergone in this land as in others. The _burzah_ lasted two hours, after which my visitors retired to pursue their respective avocations, which I discovered to be principally confined, on the part of the natives, to gossiping, making or repairing fishing-nets, hatchets, canoes, food-troughs, village fences, and huts, and on the part of our people to arranging plans for building their own grass-huts, being perfectly content to endure a long stay at Kagehyi. [Illustration: FRANK POCOCK. (_From a Photograph taken at Kagehyi._)] "Though the people had only their own small domestic affairs to engage their attentions, and Frank and Fred were for this day relieved from duty, I had much to do--observations to take to ascertain the position of Kagehyi, and its altitude above the sea; to prepare paper, pens, and ink for the morrow's report to the journals which had despatched me to this remote and secluded part of the globe; to make calculations of the time likely to be occupied in a halt at Kagehyi, in preparing and equipping the _Lady Alice_ for sea, and in circumnavigating the great 'Nianja,' as the Wasukuma call the lake.[3] It was also incumbent upon me to ascertain the political condition of the country before leaving the port and the camp, that my mind might be at rest about its safety during my contemplated absence. Estimates were also to be entered upon as to the quantity of cloth and beads likely to be required for the provisioning of the expeditionary force during my absence, and as to the amount of tribute and presents to be bestowed upon the King of Uchambi--of which Kagehyi was only a small district, and to whom Prince Kaduma was only a subordinate and tributary. In brief, my own personal work was but begun, and pages would not suffice to describe in detail the full extent of the new duties now devolving upon me. [3] Captain Speke spelled it "Nyanza," which means "lake," or "great water." Out of regard to the work of the great explorer the name has been retained. [Illustration: AFRICAN ARMS AND ORNAMENTS.] "The village of Kagehyi, in the Uchambi district and country of Usukuma, became after our arrival a place of great local importance. It attracted an unusual number of native traders from all sides within a radius of twenty or thirty miles. Fishermen from Ukerewé, whose purple hills we saw across the arm of the lake, came in their canoes, with stores of dried fish; the people of Igusa, Sima, and Magu, east of us in Usukuma, brought their cassava, or manioc, and ripe bananas; the herdsmen of Usmau, thirty miles south of Kagehyi, sent their oxen; and the tribes of Muanza--famous historically as being the point whence Speke first saw this broad gulf of Lake Victoria--brought their hoes, iron wire, and salt, besides great plenty of sweet potatoes and yams. "Within seven days the _Lady Alice_ was ready, and strengthened for a rough sea-life. Provisions of flour and dried fish, bales of cloth and beads of various kinds, odds and ends of small possible necessaries were boxed, and she was declared at last to be only waiting for her crew. 'Would any one volunteer to accompany me?' A dead silence ensued. 'Not for rewards and extra pay?' Another dead silence: no one would volunteer. "'Yet I must,' said I, 'depart. Will you let me go alone?' "'No.' "'What then? Show me my braves--those men who freely enlist to follow their master round the sea.' "All were again dumb. Appealed to individually, each said he knew nothing of sea life; each man frankly declared himself a terrible coward on water. "'Then what am I to do?' "Manwa Sera said: "'Master, have done with these questions. Command your party. All your people are your children, and they will not disobey you. While you ask them as a friend, no one will offer his services. Command them, and they will all go.' [Illustration: VIEW NEAR VICTORIA LAKE.] "So I selected a chief, Wadi Safeni--the son of Safeni--and told him to pick out the elect of the young men. Wadi Safeni chose men who knew nothing of boat-life. Then I called Kachéché, the detective, and told him to ascertain the names of those young men who were accustomed to sea-life, upon which Kachéché informed me that the young guides first selected by me at Bagamoyo were the sailors of the expedition. After reflecting upon the capacities of the younger men, as they had developed themselves on the road, I made a list of ten sailors and a steersman, to whose fidelity I was willing to intrust myself and fortunes while coasting round the Victoria sea. "Accordingly, after drawing up instructions for Frank Pocock and Fred Barker, on about a score of matters concerning the well-being of the expedition during my absence, and enlisting for them, by an adequate gift, the good-will of Sungoro and Prince Kaduma, I set sail on the 8th of March, 1875, eastward along the shores of the broad arm of the lake which we first sighted, and which henceforward is known, in honor of its first discoverer, as 'Speke Gulf.' [Illustration: DWELLERS ON THE SHORE OF THE LAKE.] "The reluctance of my followers to venture upon Lake Victoria was due to what they had heard about it from Prince Kaduma's people. 'There were,' they said, 'a people dwelling on its shores who were gifted with tails; another who trained enormous and fierce dogs for war; another a tribe of cannibals, who preferred human flesh to all other kinds of meat. The lake was so large it would take years to trace its shores, and who then at the end of that time would remain alive?' Its opposite shores, from their very vagueness of outline, and its people, from the distorting fogs of misrepresentation through which we saw them, only heightened the fears of my men as to the dangers which filled the prospect." "Mr. Stanley explored the shores of Speke Gulf," said Frank, after a short pause, "and then proceeded to follow the eastern shore of the great lake, which stretched out to the east and north apparently as limitless as the ocean. On the islands of Speke Gulf he found great numbers of crocodiles, and at almost every step he took among the reeds, on the shore of one of the islands, a huge crocodile rushed past him into the water. Hippopotami were numerous, some of them coming disagreeably near to his boat, and evidently desiring to make his acquaintance. The natives around the gulf were not hostile, but caused despondency in the hearts of Stanley's men by predicting that it would take him eight years to circumnavigate the lake. "But on the shores of the lake itself the people showed signs of hostility, and came to the water's edge with their spears and shields. On such occasions the party kept away from land and parleyed at a safe distance. Once a war-canoe carrying some forty men armed with spears and slings came close alongside the _Lady Alice_; the men in the canoe were insolent and evidently wanted to fight. Before beginning, however, they exhibited their skill by throwing stones with their slings, and whenever they made good shots the strangers applauded and smiled. In fact, they had been smiling all the time since the canoe came alongside. "When he considered the time had come to put an end to their insolence, Mr. Stanley drew his revolver and fired rapidly into the water in the direction where the last stone had been flung. The effect was ludicrous in the extreme, as none of the fellows had ever before heard the sound of a firearm. They sprang into the water and swam away for dear life, leaving their canoe in the hands of the strangers. They were finally coaxed back, but were more respectful in their demeanor. "At another time," said Frank, "the natives came with a large fleet of canoes and attacked the _Lady Alice_, but were driven off without serious difficulty. Mr. Stanley's plan was, in fights of this sort, to use his large rifle with explosive shells, which he aimed just at the water-line of the canoes. The craft would thus be sunk or disabled, while the crew, who are all good swimmers, ran no risk of being drowned. Pursuit would thus be stopped, and the _Lady Alice_ have plenty of time to escape. [Illustration: THE "LADY ALICE" AT BRIDGE ISLAND, VICTORIA NYANZA.] "Without accident, the adventurous party reached the outlet of the lake and visited Ripon Falls, the head of the Victoria Nile, which flows into the Albert Nyanza. The latter lake is the source of the White Nile--the Nile of Egypt, and one of the historic rivers of the world." [Illustration: VIEW OF THE BAY LEADING TO RUGEDZI CHANNEL FROM KIGOMA, NEAR KISORYA, SOUTH SIDE OF UKEREWÉ, COAST OF SPEKE GULF. (_From a Photograph by Mr. Stanley._)] One of the youths asked how the Ripon Falls received that name. "The name was given by Captain Speke, the first white man who ever saw the falls," replied Frank. "He may be called their discoverer, as the visit to the falls was made during his exploration of the Victoria Nyanza. At the time his expedition was fitted out, the Marquis of Ripon was the president of the Royal Geographical Society, and hence the name that Captain Speke gave to the falls." "I suppose, then, that the Victoria Nyanza, or Victoria Lake, is the source of the Nile," another of Frank's auditors remarked. Frank looked inquiringly at Doctor Bronson, who immediately came to the youth's assistance. "For all practical purposes," said the Doctor, "Captain Speke's claim that he had discovered the source of the Nile when he found the stream which drained the lake, was a just one. But by common consent of geographers the source of a river is the brook or rivulet, however tiny, that rises farthest from its mouth. Adopting this as a rule, the source of the Nile was not the Victoria Lake itself, but its longest affluent, and this is a question not yet fully determined, though it is fairly well settled that the honor belongs to the Alexandra Nile, or Kagera River, which is certainly the longest affluent of the lake. The Kagera River flows from Alexandra Lake, which lies nearly due west from the southern end of Victoria Lake; the distance is about one hundred and fifty miles in a direct line, but much greater according to the African routes of travel." "Did Mr. Stanley visit Alexandra Lake and find out what streams flowed into it?" one of the youths inquired, as Doctor Bronson paused. "He was unable to do so," was the reply, "and no other traveller has yet completed the exploration. Some geographers think that the longest affluent of Lake Victoria will yet prove to be one of the streams coming in from the eastward, and having its source at the base of Mount Kilima-Njaro; but until this is shown to be an established fact, we may assume that the Alexandra Nile is the head of the great river of Egypt, as it certainly is the largest stream that flows into Victoria Lake." [Illustration: VIEW OF RIPON FALLS FROM THE UGANDA SIDE. (_From a Photograph by Mr. Stanley._)] "Are there any other falls on the Victoria Nile besides the Ripon Falls just mentioned?" was the next inquiry from the audience. "There are several falls and rapids on the stream," the Doctor answered, "the most important being Murchison Falls, not far from where the Victoria Nile emerges into Albert Lake. Lake Albert is more than a thousand feet below the level of Lake Victoria, and therefore you may expect a rapid descent of the river that connects these two bodies of water. [Illustration: DRESSED FOR COLD WEATHER.] "During the time that Egypt had partial control of the lake region of Central Africa, its government established a military station at Foueira, on the Victoria Nile, just above the Kuruma Falls. The river was explored from one end to the other, and it was ascertained that, though there were several places where for many miles the current was comparatively placid, there were so many falls and rapids that navigation was practically impossible. Consequently no use was made of the stream, and all expeditions through that region travel by land. Unless an expedition is sufficiently powerful to force its way, travellers avoid the villages and keep as much as possible in the wilderness, to escape the extortionate demands of its petty chiefs, who invariably demand a high tribute. Whatever they see they want, and it requires a great deal of diplomacy to escape from them without being stripped of everything of any value. "But we are wandering from the route where we left Mr. Stanley," said Doctor Bronson, "and will now turn back to see where he went after visiting Ripon Falls. Frank will inform us." Under this hint Frank continued: "Where the lake narrows at the head of the Victoria Nile, or just above the falls, there is a V-shaped bay which is called Napoleon Channel. On the east of this channel is the country of Usoga, and on the west that of Uganda. The latter is the territory of the famous King Mtesa, or rather it was his territory at the time of Mr. Stanley's visit, as he has since died and left the kingdom to his son. "Mr. Stanley found the people of Uganda friendly; and by one of the local chiefs he sent a message to the king to announce his coming. Then he waited at one of the islands until the chief returned with Mtesa's reply, which was that Stanley should come and see him. Escorted by a small fleet of war-canoes, commanded by a native named Magassa, he proceeded on his journey to Usavara, the port of Mtesa's capital, about ten miles farther inland. I will read Mr. Stanley's account of his reception. "When about two miles from Usavara we saw what we estimated to be thousands of people arranging themselves in order on a gently rising ground. When about a mile from the shore Magassa gave the order to signal our advance upon it with firearms, and was at once obeyed by his dozen musketeers. Half a mile off I saw that the people on the shore had formed themselves into two dense lines, at the ends of which stood several finely-dressed men, arrayed in crimson and black and snowy white. As we neared the beach volleys of musketry burst out from the long lines. Magassa's canoes steered outward to right and left, while two or three hundred heavily-loaded guns announced to all around that the white man had landed. Numerous kettle and bass drums sounded a noisy welcome, and flags, banners, and bannerets waved, and the people gave a great shout. Very much amazed at all this ceremonious and pompous greeting, I strode up towards the great standard, near which stood a short young man, dressed in a crimson robe, which covered an immaculately white dress of bleached cotton, before whom Magassa, who had hurried ashore, kneeled reverently, and turning to me begged me to understand that this short young man was the _katekiro_. Not knowing very well who the "katekiro" was, I only bowed, which, strange to say, was imitated by him, only that his bow was far more profound and stately than mine. I was perplexed, confused, embarrassed, and I believe I blushed inwardly at this regal reception, though I hope I did not betray any embarrassment. [Illustration: THE VICTORIA NILE, NORTH OF RIPON FALLS, RUSHING TOWARDS UNYORO, FROM THE USOGO SIDE OF THE FALLS. (_From a Photograph by Mr. Stanley._)] "A dozen well-dressed people now came forward, and grasping my hand declared in the Swahili language that I was welcome to Uganda. The _katekiro_ motioned with his head, and amid a perfect concourse of beaten drums, which drowned all conversation, we walked side by side, and followed by curious thousands, to a courtyard, and a circle of grass-thatched huts surrounding a larger house, which I was told were my quarters. [Illustration: RECEPTION BY KING MTESA'S BODY-GUARD AT USAVARA.] "The _katekiro_ and several of the chiefs accompanied me to my new hut, and a very sociable conversation took place. There was present a native of Zanzibar, named Tori, whom I shortly discovered to be chief drummer, engineer, and general jack-of-all-trades for the _kabaka_ (king). From this clever, ingenious man I obtained the information that the _katekiro_ was the prime-minister or the _kabaka_'s deputy, and that the titles of the other chiefs were Chambarango, Kangau, Mkwenda, Sekebobo, Kitunzi, Sabaganzi, Kauta, Saruti. There were several more present, but I must defer mention of them to other chapters. "Waganda,[4] as I found subsequently, are not in the habit of remaining incurious before a stranger. Hosts of questions were fired off at me about my health, my journey and its aim, Zanzibar, Europe and its people, the seas and the heavens, sun, moon, and stars, angels and devils, doctors, priests, and craftsmen in general; in fact, as the representative of nations who 'know everything,' I was subjected to a most searching examination, and in one hour and ten minutes it was declared unanimously that I had 'passed.' Forthwith, after the acclamation, the stately bearing became merged into a more friendly one, and long, thin, nervous black hands were pushed into mine enthusiastically, from which I gathered that they applauded me as though I had won the honors of a senior wrangler. Some proceeded direct to the _kabaka_ and informed him that the white man was a genius, knew everything, and was remarkably polite and sociable, and the _kabaka_ was said to have 'rubbed his hands as though he had just come into the possession of a treasure.' [4] Waganda signifies "people of Uganda." The prefix Ki, as in Ki-Swahili or Ki-Sagara, denotes language of Swahili or Sagara. The prefix U represents country; Wa, a plural, denoting people; M, singular, for a person, thus: U-Sagara. Country of Sagara. Wa-Sagara. People of Sagara. M-Sagara. A person of Sagara. Ki-Sagara. Language of Sagara, or after the custom, manner, or style of Sagara, as English stands in like manner for anything relating to England. "The fruits of the favorable verdict passed upon myself and merits were seen presently in fourteen fat oxen, sixteen goats and sheep, a hundred bunches of bananas, three dozen fowls, four wooden jars of milk, four baskets of sweet potatoes, fifty cars of green Indian corn, a basket of rice, twenty fresh eggs, and ten pots of mararaba wine. Kauta, Mtesa's steward or butler, at the head of the drovers and bearers of these various provisions, fell on his knees before me and said: "'The _kabaka_ sends salaams unto his friend who has travelled so far to see him. The _kabaka_ cannot see the face of his friend until he has eaten and is satisfied. The _kabaka_ has sent his slave with these few things to his friend that he may eat, and at the ninth hour, after his friend has rested, the _kabaka_ will send and call for him to appear at the _burzah_. I have spoken. _Twi-yanzi-yanzi-yanzi!_' (thanks, thanks, thanks). "I replied suitably, though my politeness was not so excessive as to induce me to kneel before the courtly butler and thank him for permission to say I thanked him. [Illustration: WAITING ORDERS.] "The ninth hour of the day approached. We had bathed, brushed, cleaned ourselves, and were prepared externally and mentally for the memorable hour when we should meet the foremost man of equatorial Africa. Two of the _kabaka_'s pages, clad in a costume semi-Kingwana and semi-Kiganda, came to summon us--the Kingwana part being the long white shirt of Zanzibar, folded with a belt or band about the loins, the Kiganda part being the Sohari doti cloth depending from the right shoulder to the feet. 'The _kabaka_ invites you to the _burzah_,' said they. Forthwith we issue from our courtyard, five of the boat's crew on each side of me, armed with Snider rifles. We reach a short, broad street, at the end of which is a hut. Here the _kabaka_ is seated with a multitude of chiefs, Wakungu[5] and Watongoleh, ranked from the throne in two opposing kneeling or seated lines, the ends being closed in by drummers, guards, executioners, pages, etc., etc. As we approached the nearest group it opened and the drummers beat mighty sounds, Tori's drumming being conspicuous from its sharper beat. The foremost man of equatorial Africa rises and advances, and all the kneeling and seated lines rise--generals, colonels, chiefs, cooks, butlers, pages, executioners, etc., etc. [5] Wakungu is the plural of _mkungu_, a rank equivalent to "general." Watongoleh is the plural of _mtongoleh_, or "colonel." [Illustration: SEKEBOBO, CHIEF OF CHAGWÉ. POKINO, THE PRIME-MINISTER. MTESA, THE EMPEROR OF UGANDA. CHAMBARANGO, THE CHIEF. OTHER CHIEFS. (_From a Photograph by Mr. Stanley._)] "The _kabaka_, a tall, clean-faced, large-eyed, nervous-looking, thin man, clad in a tarbush, black robe, with a white shirt belted with gold, shook my hands warmly and impressively, and, bowing not ungracefully, invited me to be seated on an iron stool. I waited for him to show the example, and then I and all the others seated ourselves. "He first took a deliberate survey of me, which I returned with interest, for he was as interesting to me as I was to him. His impression of me was that I was younger than Speke, not so tall, but better dressed. This I gathered from his criticisms, as confided to his chiefs and favorites. "My impression of him was that he and I would become better acquainted, that I should make a convert of him, and make him useful to Africa--but what other impressions I had may be gathered from the remarks I wrote that evening in my diary: [Illustration: DWARF AT THE KING'S COURT.] "'As I had read Speke's book for the sake of its geographical information, I retained but a dim remembrance of his description of his life in Uganda. If I remember rightly, Speke described a youthful prince, vain and heartless, a wholesale murderer and tyrant, one who delighted in fat women. Doubtless he described what he saw, but it is far from being the state of things now. Mtesa has impressed me as being an intelligent and distinguished prince, who, if aided in time by virtuous philanthropists, will do more for Central Africa than fifty years of gospel teaching, unaided by such authority, can do. I think I see in him the light that shall lighten the darkness of this benighted region; a prince well worthy the most hearty sympathies that Europe can give him. In this man I see the possible fruition of Livingstone's hopes, for with his aid the civilization of equatorial Africa becomes feasible. I remember the ardor and love which animated Livingstone when he spoke of Sekeletu; had he seen Mtesa, his ardor and love for him had been tenfold, and his pen and tongue would have been employed in calling all good men to assist him.' "Five days later I wrote the following entry: "'I see that Mtesa is a powerful emperor, with great influence over his neighbors. I have to-day seen the turbulent Mankorongo, King of Usui, and Mirambo, that terrible phantom who disturbs men's minds in Unyamwezi, through their embassies kneeling and tendering their tribute to him. I saw over three thousand soldiers of Mtesa nearly half civilized. I saw about a hundred chiefs who might be classed in the same scale as the men of Zanzibar and Oman, clad in as rich robes and armed in the same fashion, and have witnessed with astonishment such order and law as is obtainable in semi-civilized countries. All this is the result of a poor Muslim's labor; his name is Muley bin Salim. He it was who first began teaching here the doctrines of Islam. False and contemptible as these doctrines are, they are preferable to the ruthless instincts of a savage despot, whom Speke and Grant left wallowing in the blood of women, and I honor the memory of Muley bin Salim--Muslim and slave-trader though he be--the poor priest who has wrought this happy change. With a strong desire to improve still more the character of Mtesa, I shall begin building on the foundation-stones laid by Muley bin Salim. I shall destroy his belief in Islam, and teach the doctrines of Jesus of Nazareth.' "It may easily be gathered from these entries that a feeling of admiration for Mtesa must have begun very early, and that either Mtesa is a very admirable man, or that I am a very impressionable traveller, or that Mtesa is so perfect in the art of duplicity and acted so clever a part, that I became his dupe." Here Frank paused, and suggested that they would leave Mr. Stanley with the King of Uganda until the next day, when Fred would take up the reading during the afternoon and evening. As it was near the time for retiring, no one made any objection to adjournment, and in a very few minutes the members of the impromptu geographical society had dispersed. CHAPTER IV. PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF KING MTESA.--HIS RECEPTION OF MR. STANLEY.--A NAVAL REVIEW.--STANLEY'S MARKSMANSHIP.--THE KING'S PALACE.--RUBAGA, THE KING'S CAPITAL.--RECEPTION AT THE PALACE.--MEETING COLONEL LINANT DE BELLEFONDS.--CONVERTING MTESA TO CHRISTIANITY.--APPEAL FOR MISSIONARIES TO BE SENT TO MTESA.--DEPARTURE FOR USUKUMU.--FIGHT WITH THE NATIVES AT BUMBIREH ISLAND.--SUFFERINGS OF STANLEY AND HIS COMPANIONS ON LAKE VICTORIA.--A NARROW ESCAPE.--RETURN TO KAGEHYI.--DEATH OF FRED BARKER.--EMBARKING THE EXPEDITION.--KING LUKONGEH AND HIS PEOPLE. It was Fred's turn to read on the second day of the voyage, and early in the morning he began his preparations. With the aid of Mr. Stanley he marked the portions of the chapters that he would read and those that could be omitted in view of the brief time at their disposal. At the opening of the afternoon session of his geographical society Fred announced that he would begin the day's work by reading the description of King Mtesa's personal appearance as Mr. Stanley has recorded it. [Illustration: THE KING'S DINNER-DISH.] "In person Mtesa is tall, probably six feet one inch, and slender. He has very intelligent and agreeable features, reminding me of some of the faces of the great stone images at Thebes, and of the statues in the museum at Cairo. He has the same fulness of lips, but their grossness is relieved by the general expression of amiability blended with dignity that pervades his face, and the large, lustrous, lambent eyes that lend it a strange beauty, and are typical of the race from which I believe him to have sprung. His color is of a dark red-brown, of a wonderfully smooth surface. When not engaged in council he throws off unreservedly the bearing that characterizes him when on the throne, and gives rein to his humor, indulging in hearty peals of laughter. He seems to be interested in the discussion of the manners and customs of European courts, and to be enamoured of hearing of the wonders of civilization. He is ambitious to imitate, as much as lies in his power, the ways of the white man. When any piece of information is given him, he takes upon himself the task of translating it to his wives and chiefs, though many of the latter understand the Swahili language as well as he does himself." "Mr. Stanley writes that the king treated him with great courtesy," said Fred, after a short pause, "and they evidently liked each other's acquaintance. One day the king invited him to witness a naval review on the waters of Murchison Bay, on which Usavara is situated; at a signal from Mtesa forty magnificent canoes, each rowed by thirty men, swept around a point of land and drew up in front of the shore where the king and his guest and attendants were stationed. The captain of each canoe was dressed in a white cotton shirt and a cloth head-cover, neatly folded turban fashion, while the admiral wore over his shirt a crimson jacket, profusely decorated with gold braid, and on his head the red fez of Zanzibar. Each captain, as he passed the king, seized shield and spear, and went through the performance of defence and attack by water. "When the review was over the king asked Stanley, whom he called Stamlee, to show him how the white men could shoot. It was a heavy responsibility to be thus the representative of the shooting abilities of the whole white race, but there was no way of escaping it. A young crocodile was asleep on the rocks, and Stanley nearly severed its head from its body at the distance of one hundred yards with a three-ounce ball, an act which was accepted as conclusive proof that all white men are dead-shots. "And now," said Fred, "I will read the account of Mr. Stanley's visit to Rubaga, the capital city of Uganda. It is about ten miles from Usavara, the place where Mr. Stanley met the king, as has just been described. His majesty was on a hunting excursion at Usavara at the time of the explorer's arrival; he was accompanied by his court, after the manner of the kings of other countries under similar circumstances. "On the 10th of April the court broke up its hunting-lodges at Usavara, on Murchison Bay, and moved to the capital, whither I was strongly urged to follow. Mtesa, escorted by about two hundred musketeers and the great Wakungu and their armed retainers, travelled quickly; but owing to my being obliged to house my boat from the hot sun, I did not reach the capital until 1 P.M. "The road had been prepared for his Imperial Majesty's hunting excursion, and was eight feet wide, through jungle and garden, forest and field. Beautiful landscapes were thus enjoyed of rolling land and placid lake, of gigantic tamarinds and gum-trees, of extensive banana groves and plantations of the ficus, from the bark of which the national dress, or _mbugu_, is made. The peculiar domelike huts, each with an attempt at a portico, were buried deep in dense bowers of plantains which filled the air with the odor of their mellow rich fruit. [Illustration: FISH FOUND IN LAKE VICTORIA. Sama-Moa, in the Nyassa tongue; round, open-mouthed, scaled, and pig-headed-looking creature, twenty inches long.] "The road wound upward to the summits of green hills which commanded exquisite prospects, and down again into the sheltered bosoms of woody nooks and vales and tree-embowered ravines. Streams of clear water murmured through these depressions, as they flowed towards Murchison Bay. The verdure was of a brilliant green, freshened by the unfailing rains of the equator; the sky was of the bluest, and the heat, though great, was tempered by the hill breezes, and frequently by the dense foliage overhead. "Within three hours' march from Usavara, we saw the capital crowning the summit of a smooth, rounded hill--a large cluster of tall, conical grass huts, in the centre of which rose a spacious, lofty, barnlike structure. The large building, we were told, was the palace! the hill, Rubaga; the cluster of huts, the imperial capital! "From each side of the tall cane fence enclosing the grass huts on Rubaga hill radiated very broad avenues, imperial enough in width. Arriving at the base of the hill, and crossing by a 'corduroy' road over a broad slimy ooze, we came up to one of these avenues, the ground of which was a reddish clay strongly mixed with the detritus of hematite. It gave a clear breadth of one hundred feet of prepared ground, and led by a gradual ascent to the circular road which made the circuit of the hill outside the palace enclosure. Once on the domelike height, we saw that we had arrived by the back avenue, for the best view of this capital of magnificent distances was that which was obtained by looking from the _burzah_ of the palace, and carrying the eye over the broad front highway, on each side of which, as far as could be defined from the shadows of the _burzah_, the Wakungu had their respective courts and houses, embowered in gardens of banana and fig. Like the enclosure round the palace courts and quarters, each avenue was fenced with tall _mateté_ (water cane) neatly set very close together in uniform rows. The by-streets leading from one avenue to another were narrow and crooked. [Illustration: RUBAGA, THE CAPITAL OF THE KING OF UGANDA.] "While I stood admiring the view, a page came up, and, kneeling, announced that he had been despatched by the emperor to show me my house. Following him, I was ushered within a corner lot of the fenced square, between two avenues, into what I might appropriately term a 'garden villa' of Uganda. My house, standing in the centre of a plantain garden about one hundred feet square, was twenty feet long, and of a marquee shape, with a miniature portico or eave projecting like a bonnet over the doorway, and was divided into two apartments. Close by, about thirty feet off, were three domelike huts for the boat's crew and the kitchen, and in a corner of the garden was a railed space for our bullocks and goats. Were it not that I was ever anxious about my distant camp in Usukuma, I possessed almost everything requisite to render a month's stay very agreeable, and for the time I was as proud of my tiny villa as a London merchant is of his country-house. "In the afternoon I was invited to the palace. A number of people in brown robes, or white dresses, some with white goat-skins over their brown robes, others with cords folded like a turban round their heads, which I heard were distinguishing marks of the executioners, were also ascending to the _burzah_. Court after court was passed until we finally stood upon the level top in front of the great house of cane and straw which the Waganda fondly term _kibuga_, or the palace. The space at least was of aulic extent, and the prospect gained at every point was also worthy of the imperial eyes of the African monarch. "On all sides rolled in grand waves a voluptuous land of sunshine and plenty and early summer verdure, cooled by soft breezes from the great equatorial fresh-water sea. Isolated hill-cones, similar to that of Rubaga, or square tabular masses, rose up from the beautiful landscape to attract, like mysteries, the curious stranger's observation, and villages and banana groves of still fresher green, far removed on the crest of distant swelling ridges, announced that Mtesa owned a land worth loving. Dark, sinuous lines traced the winding courses of deep ravines filled with trees, and grassy extents of gently undulating ground marked the pastures; broader depressions suggested the cultivated gardens and the grain fields, while on the far verge of the horizon we saw the beauty and the charm of the land melting into the blues of distance. "The drums sounded. Mtesa had seated himself on the throne, and we hastened to take our seats. [Illustration: FLEET OF THE KING OF UGANDA, READY FOR WAR.] "Since the 5th of April, I had enjoyed ten interviews with Mtesa, and during all I had taken occasion to introduce topics which would lead up to the subject of Christianity. Nothing occurred in my presence but I contrived to turn it towards effecting that which had become an object to me, viz., his conversion. There was no attempt made to confuse him with the details of any particular doctrine. I simply drew for him the image of the Son of God humbling himself for the good of all mankind, white and black, and told him how, while he was in man's disguise, he was seized and crucified by wicked people who scorned his divinity, and yet out of his great love for them, while yet suffering on the cross, he asked his great Father to forgive them. I showed the difference in character between him whom white men love and adore, and Mohammed, whom the Arabs revere; how Jesus endeavored to teach mankind that we should love all men, excepting none, while Mohammed taught his followers that the slaying of the pagan and the unbeliever was an act that merited Paradise. I left it to Mtesa and his chiefs to decide which was the worthier character. I also sketched in brief the history of religious belief from Adam to Mohammed. I had also begun to translate to him the Ten Commandments, and Idi, the emperor's writer, transcribed in Kiganda the words of the Law as given to him in choice Swahili by Robert Feruzi, one of my boat's crew, and a pupil of the Universities Mission at Zanzibar. [Illustration: AUDIENCE-HALL OF THE PALACE AT RUBAGA.] "The enthusiasm with which I launched into this work of teaching was soon communicated to Mtesa and some of his principal chiefs, who became so absorbingly interested in the story as I gave it to them that little of other business was done. The political _burzah_ and seat of justice had now become an alcove, where only the moral and religious laws were discussed. "Before we broke up our meeting Mtesa informed me that I should meet a _white man_ at his palace the next day. "'A white man, or a Turk?' "'A white man like yourself,' repeated Mtesa. "'No; impossible." "'Yes, you will see. He comes from Masr (Cairo), from Gordoom (Gordon) Pasha.' "'Ah, very well, I shall be glad to see him, and if he is really a white man, I may probably stay with you four or five days longer,' said I to Mtesa, as I shook hands with him, and bade him good-night. "The 'white man,' reported to be coming the next day, arrived at noon with great _éclat_ and flourishes of trumpets, the sounds of which could be heard all over the capital. Mtesa hurried off a page to invite me to his _burzah_. I hastened up by a private entrance. Mtesa and all his chiefs, guards, pages, executioners, claimants, guests, drummers, and fifers were already there, _en grande tenue_. "Mtesa was in a fever, as I could see by the paling of the color under his eyes and his glowing eyeballs. The chiefs shared their master's excitement. "'What shall we do,' he asked, 'to welcome him?' "'Oh, form your troops in line from the entrance to the _burzah_ down to the gate of the outer court, and present arms, and as he comes within the gate let your drums and fifes sound a loud welcome.' [Illustration: WOODEN KETTLE-DRUM.] "'Beautiful!' said Mtesa. 'Hurry Tori, Chambarango, Sekebobo; form them in two lines just as Stamlee says. Oh, that is beautiful! And shall we fire guns, Stamlee?' "'No, not until you shake hands with him; and, as he is a soldier, let the guards fire, then they will not injure any one.' "Mtesa's flutter of excitement on this occasion made me think that there must have been a somewhat similar scene before my landing at Usavara, and that Tori must have been consulted frequently upon the form of ceremony to be adopted. "What followed upon the arrival of the white man at the outer gate had best be told as an interlude by the stranger himself. [Illustration: AFRICAN HATCHET, SPADE, AND ADZE.] "'At two o'clock, the weather having cleared up, Mtesa sent a messenger to inform me that he was ready to receive me. Notice is given in the camp; every one puts on his finest clothes; at last we are ready; my brave Soudanians look quite smart in their red jackets and white trousers. I place myself at their head; trumpets flourish and drums sound as we follow an avenue from eighty-five to a hundred yards wide, running direct north and south, and terminating at Mtesa's palace.... "'On entering this court, I am greeted with a frightful uproar; a thousand instruments, each one more outlandish than the other, produce the most discordant and deafening sounds. Mtesa's body-guard carrying guns present arms on my appearance; the king is standing at the entrance of the reception-hall, I approach and bow to him _à la turque_. He holds out his hand, which I press; I immediately perceive a sunburnt European to the left of the king, a traveller, whom I imagine to be Cameron. We exchange glances without speaking. "'Mtesa enters the reception-room, and we follow him. It is a narrow hall about sixty feet long by fifteen feet wide, the ceiling of which, sloping down at the entrance, is supported by a double row of wooden pillars which divide the room into two aisles. The principal and central room is unoccupied, and leads to the king's throne; the two aisles are filled with the great dignitaries and chief officers. At each pillar stands one of the king's guard, wearing a long red mantle, a white turban ornamented with monkey-skin, white trousers and black blouse with a red band. All are armed with guns. "'Mtesa takes his place on his throne, which is a wooden seat in the shape of an office arm-chair; his feet rest upon a cushion; the whole placed on a leopard's skin spread over a Smyrna carpet. Before the king is a highly-polished elephant's tusk, and at his feet are two boxes containing fetiches; on either side the throne is a lance (one copper, the other steel), each held by a guard; these are the insignia of Uganda; the dog which Speke mentions has been done away with. Crouching at the foot of the king are the vizier and two scribes. "'Mtesa is dignified in his manner, and does not lack a certain natural air of distinction; his dress is elegant--a white _couftan_ finished with a red band, stockings, slippers, vest of black cloth embroidered with gold, and a _tarbouche_ with a silver plate on the top. He wears a sword with ivory-inlaid hilt (a Zanzibar weapon), and a staff. "'I exhibited my presents, which Mtesa scarcely pretended to see, his dignity forbidding him to show any curiosity. "'I address the traveller, who sits in front of me, on the left of the king: "Have I the honor of speaking to Mr. Cameron?" "'STANLEY. "No, sir; Mr. Stanley." "'MYSELF. "M. Linant de Bellefonds, member of the Gordon-Pasha Expedition." "'We bow low to each other, as though we had met in a drawing-room, and our conversation is at an end for the moment. "'This meeting with Mr. Stanley greatly surprises me. Stanley was far from my thoughts; I was totally ignorant of the object of his expedition. "'I take leave of the king, who meanwhile has been amusing himself by making my unlucky soldiers parade and flourish their trumpets. I shake hands with Mr. Stanley, and ask him to honor me with his presence at dinner.' "Colonel Linant de Bellefonds having thus described our meeting, there remains but little for me to add. "As soon as I saw him approaching the _burzah_, I recognized him to be a Frenchman. Not being introduced to him--and as I was then but a mere guest of Mtesa, with whom it was M. Linant's first desire to converse--I simply bowed to him, until he had concluded addressing the emperor, when our introduction took place as he has described. [Illustration: HEAD OF A "MADOQUA"--SPECIES OF ANTELOPE.] "I was delighted at seeing him, and much more delighted when I discovered that M. Linant was a very agreeable man. I observed that there was a vast difference between his treatment of his men and the manner in which I treated mine, and that his intercourse with the Waganda was conducted after exactly opposite principles to those which governed my conduct. He adopted a half-military style which the Waganda ill brooked, and many things uncomplimentary to him were uttered by them. He stationed guards at the entrance to his courtyard to keep the Waganda at a distance, except those bearing messages from Mtesa, while my courtyard was nearly full of Watongolehs, soldiers, pages, children, with many a dark-brown woman listening with open ears to my conversation with the Waganda. In fact, my courtyard from morning to night swarmed with all classes, for I loved to draw the natives to talk, so that perfect confidence might be established between us, and I might gain an insight into their real natures. By this freer converse with them I became, it seemed, a universal favorite, and obtained information sufficient to fill two octavo volumes. "M. Linant passed many pleasant hours with me. Though he had started from Cairo previous to my departure from Zanzibar, and consequently could communicate no news from Europe, I still felt that for a brief period I enjoyed civilized life. The religious conversations which I had begun with Mtesa were maintained in the presence of M. Linant de Bellefonds; when questioned by Mtesa about the facts which I had uttered, and which had been faithfully transcribed, M. Linant, to Mtesa's astonishment, employed nearly the same words, and delivered the same responses. The remarkable fact that two white men, who had never met before, one having arrived from the southeast, the other having emerged from the north, should nevertheless both know the same things, and respond in the same words, charmed the popular mind without the _burzah_ as a wonder, and was treasured in Mtesa's memory as being miraculous. "The period of my stay with Mtesa drew to a close, and I requested leave to depart, begging the fulfilment of a promise he had made to me that he would furnish me with transport sufficient to convey the expedition by water from Kagehyi in Usukuma to Uganda. Nothing loath, since one white man would continue his residence with him till my return, and being eager to see the gifts I told him were safe at Usukuma, he gave his permission, and commanded Magassa to collect thirty canoes, and to accompany me to my camp. On the 15th of April, then, escorted by Magassa and his Watongolehs, and also by M. Linant and ten of his Nubian soldiers, we left Rubaga and arrived at Usavara. "In the evening I concluded my letters dated 14th of April, 1875, which were sent to the _Daily Telegraph_ and the New York _Herald_, the English and American journals I represented here, appealing for a Christian mission to be sent to Mtesa. "The appeal, written hurriedly, and included in the letter left at Usavara, was as follows: "'I have, indeed, undermined Islamism so much here that Mtesa has determined henceforth, until he is better informed, to observe the Christian Sabbath as well as the Moslem Sabbath, and the great captains have unanimously consented to this. He has further caused the Ten Commandments of Moses to be written on a board for his daily perusal--for Mtesa can read Arabic--as well as the Lord's Prayer and the golden commandment of our Saviour, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." This is great progress for the few days that I have remained with him, and, though I am no missionary, I shall begin to think that I might become one if such success is feasible. But, oh! that some pious, practical missionary would come here! What a field and harvest ripe for the sickle of civilization! Mtesa would give him anything he desired--houses, lands, cattle, ivory, etc.; he might call a province his own in one day. It is not the mere preacher, however, that is wanted here. The bishops of Great Britain collected, with all the classic youth of Oxford and Cambridge, would effect nothing by mere talk with the intelligent people of Uganda. It is the practical Christian tutor, who can teach people how to become Christians, cure their diseases, construct dwellings, understand and exemplify agriculture, and turn his hand to anything, like a sailor--this is the man who is wanted. Such a one, if he can be found, would become the saviour of Africa. He must be tied to no church or sect, but profess God and his Son and the moral law, and live a blameless Christian, inspired by liberal principles, charity to all men, and devout faith in Heaven. He must belong to no nation in particular, but to the entire white race. Such a man, or men, Mtesa, Emperor of Uganda, Usoga, Unyoro, and Karagwé--an empire three hundred and sixty geographical miles in length, by fifty in breadth--invites to repair to him. He has begged me to tell the white men that, if they will only come to him, he will give them all they want. Now, where is there in all the pagan world a more promising field for a mission than Uganda? Colonel Linant de Bellefonds is my witness that I speak the truth, and I know he will corroborate all I say. The colonel, though a Frenchman, is a Calvinist, and has become as ardent a well-wisher for the Waganda as I am. Then why further spend needlessly vast sums upon black pagans of Africa who have no example of their own people becoming Christians before them? I speak to the Universities Mission at Zanzibar and to the Free Methodists at Mombasa, to the leading philanthropists and the pious people of England. "Here, gentlemen, is your opportunity--embrace it! The people on the shores of the Nyanza call upon you. Obey your own generous instincts, and listen to them; and I assure you that in one year you will have more converts to Christianity than all other missionaries united can number. The population of Mtesa's kingdom is very dense; I estimate the number of his subjects at two millions. You need not fear to spend money upon such a mission, as Mtesa is sole ruler, and will repay its cost tenfold with ivory, coffee, otter-skins of a very fine quality, or even in cattle, for the wealth of this country in all these products is immense. The road here is by the Nile, or _via_ Zanzibar, Ugogo, and Unyanyembé. The former route, so long as Colonel Gordon governs the countries of the Upper Nile, seems the most feasible."' [Illustration: SHUGRANGU HOUSE, AN AFRICAN MISSION STATION, WITH GRAVE OF MRS. LIVINGSTONE.] "When the letters were written and sealed I committed them to the charge of Colonel Linant. My friend promised he would await my return from Usukuma; meanwhile he lent me a powerful field-glass, as mine, being considerably injured, had been given to Mtesa. "The parting between M. Linant and myself I shall allow him to describe: "'At 5 A.M. drums are beaten; the boats going with Stanley are collecting together. "'Mr. Stanley and myself are soon ready. The _Lady Alice_ is unmoored; luggage, sheep, goats, and poultry are already stowed away in their places. There is nothing to be done except to hoist the American flag and head the boat southward. I accompany Stanley to his boat; we shake hands and commend each other to the care of God. Stanley takes the helm; the _Lady Alice_ immediately swerves like a spirited horse, and bounds forward lashing the water of the Nyanza into foam. The starry flag is hoisted, and floats proudly in the breeze; I immediately raise a loud hurrah with such hearty good-will as perhaps never before greeted the traveller's ears. "'The _Lady Alice_ is already far away. We wave our handkerchiefs as a last farewell; my heart is full; I have just lost a brother. I had grown used to seeing Stanley, the open-hearted, sympathetic man and friend and admirable traveller. With him I forgot my fatigue; this meeting had been like a return to my own country. His engaging, instructive conversation made the hours pass like minutes. I hope I may see him again, and have the happiness of spending several days with him.'" One of the youthful auditors asked at this point what became of Colonel Linant de Bellefonds. Fred replied as follows to the inquiry: "He remained about six weeks at Mtesa's court, looking for the return of Mr. Stanley. The latter was delayed in various ways, and finally Colonel Linant started on his return to Gondokoro, to report to his superior officer, Gordon Pasha. He had a severe battle with the natives of Unyoro; it lasted several hours, but he managed to escape and reach Gordon Pasha's headquarters. In the following August he was sent on an expedition among the Bari tribe, and, at a place called Labore, he and all the men accompanying him were killed. He was an efficient officer, and was greatly liked by those with whom he served. [Illustration: WARRIORS OF THE UPPER NILE REGION.] "Mr. Stanley was greatly delayed on his return to Usukuma," Fred continued, "by the inefficiency of Magassa and his habits of procrastination. He did not assemble the required number of canoes which Mtesa had promised, and when Stanley sent him for more he returned without them. His whole course of action was one of duplicity, and caused a great deal of trouble and delay to the expedition. Stanley was not sufficiently powerful to force him to obey, and he was too far away from Mtesa's capital to inform the king of the bad conduct of his lieutenant. "On the way down the coast Mr. Stanley explored the Alexandra Nile for a short distance. He reported it about five hundred yards wide at its mouth, and narrowed to a width of one hundred yards about two miles above. Its current was so strong that the _Lady Alice_ breasted it with difficulty, and, after an ascent of three miles, the attempt to go farther was abandoned. In one place a depth of eighty-five feet was obtained with the sounding-line, and it was evident that the volume of water discharged by the river is very large. The people residing in the valley of the Alexandra Nile call it 'the mother of the river at Jinga,' or the Ripon Falls. "At Bumbireh Island the expedition stopped to purchase food, of which they had run short, but the natives proved to be unfriendly. Bumbireh is about eleven miles long by two in width, and has a population estimated at four thousand, scattered in some fifty villages. Here is Mr. Stanley's account of his experiences at this island. "At 9 A.M. we discovered a cove near the southeast end of the long island, and pulled slowly into it. Immediately the natives rushed down the slopes, shouting war-cries and uttering fierce ejaculations. When about fifty yards from the shore I bade the men cease rowing, but Safeni and Baraka became eloquent, and said, 'It is almost always the case, master, with savages. They cry out and threaten and look big, but you will see that all that noise will cease as soon as they hear us speak. Besides, if we leave here without food, where shall we obtain it?' "The last argument was unanswerable, and though I gave no orders to resume their oars, four of the men impelled the boat on slowly, while Safeni and Baraka prepared themselves to explain to the natives, who were now close within hearing, as they came rushing to the water's edge. I saw some lift great stones, while others prepared their bows. "We were now about ten yards from the beach, and Safeni and Baraka spoke, earnestly pointing to their mouths, and by gestures explaining that their bellies were empty. They smiled with insinuating faces; uttered the words 'brothers,' 'friends,' 'good fellows,' most volubly; cunningly interpolated the words Mtesa--the _kabaka_--Uganda, and Antari, King of Ihangiro, to whom Bumbireh belongs. Safeni and Baraka's pleasant volubility seemed to have produced a good effect, for the stones were dropped, the bows were unstrung, and the lifted spears lowered to assist the steady, slow-walking pace with which they now advanced. [Illustration: RECEPTION AT BUMBIREH ISLAND, VICTORIA NYANZA.] "Safeni and Baraka turned to me triumphantly, and asked, 'What did we say, master?' and then, with engaging frankness, invited the natives, who were now about two hundred in number, to come closer. The natives consulted a little while, and several--now smiling pleasantly themselves--advanced leisurely into the water until they touched the boat's prow. They stood a few seconds talking sweetly, when suddenly, with a rush, they ran the boat ashore; and then all the others, seizing hawser and gunwale, dragged her about twenty yards over the rocky beach high and dry, leaving us almost stupefied with astonishment! "Then ensued a scene which beggars description. A forest of spears was levelled; thirty or forty bows were drawn taut; as many barbed arrows seemed already on the wing; thick, knotty clubs waved above our heads; two hundred screaming black demons jostled with each other, and struggled for room to vent their fury, or for an opportunity to deliver one crushing blow or thrust at us. "In the meantime, as soon as the first symptoms of this manifestation of violence had been observed, I had sprung to my feet, each hand armed with a loaded self-cocking revolver. But the apparent hopelessness of inflicting much injury upon such a large crowd restrained me, and Safeni turned to me, though almost cowed to dumbness by the loud fury around us, and pleaded with me to be patient. I complied, seeing that I should get no aid from my crew; but, while bitterly blaming myself for my imprudence in having yielded--against my instincts--to placing myself in the power of such savages, I vowed that, if I escaped this once, my own judgment should guide my actions for the future. "I assumed a resigned air, though I still retained my revolvers. My crew also bore the first outburst of the tempest of shrieking rage which assailed them with almost sublime imperturbability. Safeni crossed his arms with the meekness of a saint. Baraka held his hands palms outward, asking, with serene benignity, 'What, my friends, ails you? Do you fear empty hands and smiling people like us? We are friends; we came, as friends, to buy food, two or three bananas, a few mouthfuls of grain or potatoes or muhogo (cassava), and, if you permit us, we shall depart as friends.' "Our demeanor had a great effect. The riot and noise seemed to be subsiding, when some fifty new-comers rekindled the smouldering fury. Again the forest of spears swayed on the launch, again the knotty clubs were whirled aloft, again the bows were drawn, and again the barbed arrows seemed flying. Safeni received a push which sent him tumbling; little Kirango received a blow on the head with a spear-staff; Saramba gave a cry as a club descended on his back. "I sprang up this time to remonstrate, with the two revolvers in my left hand. I addressed myself to an elder, who seemed to be restraining the people from proceeding too far. I showed him beads, cloth, wire, and invoked the names of Mtesa, and Antari their king. "The sight of the heaps of beads and cloth I exposed awakened, however, the more deliberate passions of selfishness and greed in each heart. An attempt at massacre, they began to argue, would certainly entail the loss of some of themselves. 'Guns might be seized, and handled with terrible effect, even by dying men, and who knows what those little iron things in the white man's hands are?' they seemed to be asking themselves. The elder, whatever he thought, responded with an affectation of indignation, raised his stick, and to the right and left of him drove back the demoniac crowd. Other prominent men now assisted this elder, whom we subsequently discovered to be Shekka, the King of Bumbireh. "Shekka then, having thus bestirred himself, beckoned to half a dozen men, and walked away a few yards behind the mass. Half the crowd followed the king and his council, while the other half remained to indulge their tongues on us, and to continually menace us with either club or spear. [Illustration: HUT AND GRANARY ON THE ISLAND.] "The issue had surely arrived. There had been just one brief moment of agony when I reflected how unlovely death appears in such guise as that in which it then threatened me. What would my people think as they anxiously waited for the never-returning master! What would Pocock and Barker say when they heard of the tragedy of Bumbireh! And my friends in America and Europe! "A messenger from the king and the council arrives, and beckons Safeni. I said to him, 'Safeni, use your wit.' 'Please God, master,' he replied. "Safeni drew nearly all the crowd after him, for curiosity is strong in the African. I saw him pose himself. A born diplomatist was Safeni. His hands moved up and down, outward and inward; a cordial frankness sat naturally on his face; his gestures were graceful; the man was an orator, pleading for mercy and justice. "Safeni returned, his face radiant. 'It is all right, master, there is no fear. They say we must stop here until to-morrow.' "'Will they sell us food?' "'Oh, yes, as soon as they settle their shauri.' "While Safeni was speaking six men rushed up and seized the oars. "Safeni, though hitherto politic, lost temper at this, and endeavored to prevent them. They raised their clubs to strike him. I shouted out, 'Let them go, Safeni.' "'A loud cheer greeted the seizure of the oars. I became convinced now that this one little act would lead to others; for man is the same all over the world. If a man submit once, he must be prepared to submit again. "The 'shauri' proceeded. Another messenger came, demanding five cloths and five fundo of necklaces. They were delivered. But as it was now near noon, and they were assured we could not escape, the savages withdrew to their nearest village to refresh themselves with wine and food. "After the warriors had departed some women came to look at us. We spoke kindly to them, and in return they gave us the consoling assurance that we should be killed, but they said that if we could induce Shekka to make blood-brotherhood, or to eat honey with one of us, we should be safe. If we failed, there was only flight or death. We thanked them, but we would wait. [Illustration: A WOMAN OF THE ISLAND.] "About 3 P.M. we heard a number of drums beaten. Safeni was told that if the natives collected again he must endeavor to induce Shekka with gifts to go through the process of blood-brotherhood. "A long line of natives in full war costume appeared on the crest of the terrace, on which the banana grove and village of Kajurri stood. Their faces were smeared with black and white pigments. Almost all of them bore the peculiar shields of Usongora. Their actions were such as the dullest-witted of us recognized as indicating hostilities. "Even Safeni and Baraka were astounded, and their first words were 'Prepare, master. Truly, this is trouble.' "'Never mind me,' I replied, 'I have been ready these three hours. Are you ready, your guns and revolvers loaded, and your ears open this time?' "'We are,' they all firmly answered. "'Don't be afraid; be quite cool. We will try, while they are collecting together, the women's suggestion. Go frankly and smilingly, Safeni, up to Shekka, on the top of that hill, and offer him these three fundo of beads, and ask him to exchange blood with you.' "Safeni proceeded readily on his errand, for there was no danger to him bodily while we were there within one hundred and fifty yards, and their full power as yet unprepared. For ten minutes he conversed with them, while the drums kept beating, and numbers of men bepainted for war were increasing Shekka's force. Some of them entertained us by demonstrating with their spears how they fought. Their gestures were wild, their voices were shrill and fierce, they were kindling themselves into a fighting fever. "Safeni returned. Shekka had refused the pledge of peace. The natives now mustered over three hundred. "Presently fifty bold fellows came rushing down, uttering a shrill cry. Without hesitation they came straight to the boat, and, hissing something to us, seized our Kiganda drum. It was such a small affair, we did not resist; still the manner in which it was taken completely undeceived us, if any small hope of peace remained. Loud applause greeted the act of gallantry. "Then two men came down towards us, and began to drive some cows away that were grazing between us and the men on the hill. Safeni asked of one of them, 'Why do you do that?' [Illustration: VILLAGE ENCLOSING CATTLE.] "'Because we are going to begin fighting presently, and if you are men, you may begin to prepare yourselves,' he said, scornfully. "'Thanks, my bold friend,' I muttered to myself. 'Those are the truest words we have heard to-day.' "The two men were retiring up the hill. 'Here, Safeni,' I said, 'take these two fine red cloths in your hand; walk slowly up after them a little way, and the minute you hear my voice run back; and you, my boys, this is for life and death, mind; range yourselves on each side of the boat, lay your hands on it carelessly, but with a firm grip, and when I give the word, push it with the force of a hundred men down the hill into the water. Are you all ready, and do you think you can do it? Otherwise we might as well begin fighting where we are.' 'Yes, Inshallah Master,' they cried out with one voice. [Illustration: HEADS OF SPEARS.] "'Go, Safeni!' "I waited until he had walked fifty yards away, and saw that he acted precisely as I had instructed him. "'Push, my boys; push for your lives!" "The crew bent their heads and strained their arms; the boat began to move, and there was a hissing, grinding noise below me. I seized my double-barrelled elephant rifle and shouted, 'Safeni! Safeni, return!' "The natives were quick-eyed. They saw the boat moving, and with one accord they swept down the hill uttering the most fearful cries. "My boat was at the water's edge. 'Shoot her into the lake, my men; never mind the water;' and, clear of all obstruction, she darted out upon the lake. "Safeni stood for an instant on the water's edge, with the cloths in his hand. The foremost of a crowd of natives was about twenty yards from him. He raised his spear and balanced himself. "'Spring into the water, man, head first,' I cried. "The balanced spear was about to fly, and another man was preparing his weapon for a deadly cast, when I raised my gun and the bullet ploughed through him and through the second. The bowmen halted and drew their bows. I sent two charges of duck-shot into their midst, and the natives retreated from the beach on which the boat had lately lain. "Having checked the natives, I assisted one of my men into the boat, and ordered him to lend a hand to the others, while I reloaded my big guns, keeping my eyes on the natives. There was a point about one hundred yards in length on the east, which sheltered the cove. Some of the natives made a rush for this, but my guns commanded the exposed position, and they were obliged to retire. "The crew seized their rifles, but I told them to leave them alone, and to tear the bottom-boards out of the boat and use them as paddles; for there were two hippopotami advancing upon us open-mouthed, and it seemed as if we were to be crushed in the water after such a narrow escape from the ferocious people ashore. I permitted one of the hippos to approach within ten yards, and, aiming between his eyes, perforated his skull with a three-ounce ball, and the second received such a round that we were not molested by him. "It was 5 P.M. We had only four bananas in the boat, and we were twelve hungry men. If we had a strong fair breeze, a day and a night would suffice to enable us to reach our camp. But if we had head-winds, the journey might occupy a month. Meanwhile, where should we apply for food? Fresh water we had in abundance, sufficient to satisfy the thirst of all the armies of the world for a century. But food? Whither should we turn for it?" [Illustration: CENTRAL AFRICAN GOAT.] Fred paused a few moments while his auditors waited in breathless anxiety for the continuation of the story. "At night a storm came on," said Fred, "and the _Alice_ drifted helplessly, while her occupants, weakened by nearly fifty hours without food and drenched by the rain that fell in torrents, felt that they were about to 'die in the Nyanza' as they had been told to do by the cruel natives of Bumbireh. In the morning the storm abated, and they reached an uninhabited island which Mr. Stanley appropriately named Refuge Island. The men gathered bananas, cherries, and other fruits, while their leader shot some ducks, so that they had an abundant supper, which, you may be sure, was eagerly devoured. They remained two days at Refuge Island to rest and gain strength, and also to make oars to replace those lost at Bumbireh. Then they continued their voyage and reached their old camp at Kagehyi without further molestation or suffering. "The party was welcomed most joyously by Frank Pocock and the men in camp, but the news that greeted the explorer was full of sadness. When he inquired for Fred Barker, young Pocock pointed to a cairn of stones near the shore, and in a low voice said Barker had died twelve days before, and was buried under the cairn. Several of the Zanzibaris had died, including three of the most trustworthy men of the expedition, while some of the worst spirits in the camp were on the verge of mutiny. The natives had continued friendly, and the camp was so well supplied with provisions that those who had preserved their health were in excellent condition. [Illustration: CAIRN ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF FREDERICK BARKER: MAJITA AND URURI MOUNTAINS IN THE DISTANCE, ACROSS SPEKE GULF.] "Mr. Stanley and those who accompanied him on the boat expedition were greatly reduced by their privations and exposure, Stanley weighing only one hundred and fifteen pounds, or sixty-three pounds less than when he left Zanzibar. Rest was imperative, and in Stanley's case it was accompanied by fever which reduced him to a weight of one hundred and eight pounds in a few days. On the fifth day he had conquered the fever by liberal doses of quinine, but found himself very weak and pale." One of the youths asked what became of Magassa and his fleet of canoes. "That was what worried Mr. Stanley," replied Fred, "and during the delirium of his fever he was constantly asking for the canoes. They never came, and it was necessary to obtain other boats or make the journey by land. After much bargaining and diplomacy twenty-one canoes were purchased from Lukongeh, King of Ukerewé, a large island which separates Speke Gulf from the waters of the lake. They were in poor condition, but, by much patching and calking, were made available for transporting the expedition to Refuge Island, where the boat party retreated after its encounter with the natives of Bumbireh. "Mr. Stanley gives some interesting details concerning the king and people of Ukerewé. "The king, Lukongeh, was a handsome, open-faced, light-colored man about twenty-seven years old; he is supposed to be endowed with supernatural power, and seizes every opportunity to heighten this belief. He is believed to be enabled to create a drought at pleasure, and to cause the land to be drenched with rain. It was fortunate that, since his accession to power, rain had been regular and copious in its season. The king had not been slow to point out this immense advantage which Ukerewé had gained since he succeeded his father; he was therefore beloved and feared. [Illustration: AT THE LANDING-PLACE OF MSOSSI, KING LUKONGEH's CAPITAL.] "Aware of the value of a reputation as rain-maker, he was ambitious to add to it that of 'great medicine man,' and he besought me to impart to him some of the grand secrets of Europe--such as how to transform men into lions and leopards, to cause the rains to fall or cease, the winds to blow, and trees to produce fruit. Demands of this character are commonly made by African chiefs. When I stated my inability to comply with these requests, the king whispered to his chiefs: "'He will not give me what I ask, because he is afraid that he will not get the canoes; but you will see when my men return from Uganda, he will give me all I ask.' [Illustration: STOW-HOUSE FOR GRAIN.] "Many stories were current about the witchcraft practised by the people of Ukara Island, proving that those islanders have been at pains to spread abroad a good repute for themselves, that they are cunning, and, aware that superstition is a weakness of human nature, have sought to thrive upon it. Their power--according to the Wakerew--over the amphibiæ is wonderful. They had crocodiles which were trained to do anything they were told to do, and their king had a hippopotamus which came to him each morning to be milked! [Illustration: WAKEREWÉ STOOL.] "Coils of brass wire are much coveted by the Wakerewé, for the adornment of their wives, who wear it in such numerous circlets round their necks as to give them at a distance an appearance of wearing ruffs. Wristlets of copper and brass and iron, and anklets of the same metal, besides armlets of ivory, are the favorite decorations of the men. "Owing to the size of the expedition and the limited capacity of the canoes, it required two journeys of the flotilla to transport the entire party, with its baggage, from Kagehyi to Refuge Island. The work was safely accomplished, friendly terms were made with the natives in the vicinity; and now," said Fred, as he closed the book, "we will leave the entire party until we assemble again in the evening." [Illustration: WAKEREWÉ DWELLING-HOUSE.] [Illustration: FISH-NETS.] [Illustration: WAKEREWÉ CANOES.] [Illustration: WAKEREWÉ WARRIOR.] [Illustration: STRANGE GRANITE ROCKS OF UZUI ISLAND, MIDWAY BETWEEN USUKUMA AND UKEREWÉ. (_From a Photograph by Mr. Stanley._)] CHAPTER V. DEPARTURE FROM REFUGE ISLAND.--ARRIVAL IN UGANDA.--MTESA AT WAR.--STANLEY JOINS HIM AT RIPON FALLS.--A NAVAL BATTLE ON AN AFRICAN LAKE.--THE WAGANDA REPULSED.--CAPTURE OF A WAVUMA CHIEF.--STANLEY SAVES THE CHIEF'S LIFE.--HOW STANLEY BROUGHT THE WAR TO AN END.--HIS WONDERFUL MACHINE FOR DESTROYING THE WAVUMA.--RETIREMENT OF THE ARMY.--STANLEY'S RETURN TO HIS CAMP.--EXPEDITION TO MUTA NZEGE.--HOW IT FAILED.--THE EXPEDITION MARCHES SOUTHWARD.--IN KING RUMANIKA'S COUNTRY.--ARAB TRADERS IN AFRICA.--HAMED IBRAHIM.--KAFURRO AND LAKE WINDERMERE.--INTERVIEWS WITH KING RUMANIKA.--EXPLORING LAKE WINDERMERE.--AN UNHAPPY NIGHT.--IHEMA ISLAND. When the party assembled in the evening Fred was promptly in his place and ready for work. By way of testing the memories of his auditors he asked them where they left Mr. Stanley's expedition at the end of the afternoon's reading. "We left it at Refuge Island," replied one of the youths. "The canoes had made two journeys each way, between Kagehyi and Refuge Island, to bring up the men and baggage." [Illustration: USUKUMA CANOE.] "Quite right," said Fred, "and at Refuge Island they remained for several days, negotiating for a peaceful passage by the island of Bumbireh. A search expedition, which was sent by King Mtesa to ascertain what had become of his friend 'Stamlee,' joined them, and together there was a sufficient number of canoes to carry the whole party to Uganda. "But on arriving in Uganda," Fred continued, "Mr. Stanley found that Mtesa had gone to war with the Wavuma, who dwell on the farther shore of the lake, and beyond the Victoria Nile. He had marched to Usoga and fought a battle with the Wavuma, and was then preparing a naval expedition on a grand scale. Stanley was inclined to turn back when he heard this news, as he feared the delay which the war would cause. After due consideration he decided to go on, as the greater ease with which he could travel to the Muta Nzege would offset any delay caused by Mtesa's war. [Illustration: ISLAND CALLED ELEPHANT ROCK.] "He found Mtesa with his army at Ripon Falls, on the Usoga side of the river. Warriors, women, camp-followers, and all numbered nearly two hundred and fifty thousand, and, besides, he had a flotilla of three hundred and twenty-five canoes, large and small. The enemy was in great strength, though less numerous. They had a strong position on an island, and everything promised a severely contested battle, with the chances in favor of Mtesa. The army remained several days at Ripon Falls after Stanley's arrival, and then marched to a point of land near Ingira, the island where the Wavuma had their stronghold. During the delay in camp the king and his guest were often together, and Stanley embraced the opportunity to renew his religious instruction of Mtesa. He made an abstract of the Scriptures, which were translated into Swahili, and thus the king had all the principal events of the Bible, from the Creation to the Crucifixion, in a language he could read. Finally the king declared that he would renounce the faith of Islam, and accept Christianity, as he believed its principles were the best. "'Stamlee,' said Mtesa, as they parted, 'say to the white people when you write to them, that I am like a man sitting in darkness, or born blind, and that all I ask is that I may be taught how to see, and I shall continue a Christian while I live.' [Illustration: MTESA'S CAMP INGIRA.] "The fleets of Mtesa and the Wavuma people had several encounters, but without any decisive results. Mr. Stanley thus describes one of these naval battles: "The drums sounded from the water-side, and soon the beautiful canoes of Uganda appeared in view. The entire war-fleet of two hundred and thirty vessels rode gracefully on the calm gray waters of the channel. "The line of battle was formed by Chambarango, in command of the right flank, with fifty canoes; Sambuzi, Mukavya, Chikwata, and Saruti, all sub-chiefs, were ranged with one hundred canoes, under the command of Kauta, the imperial steward, to form the centre; the left flank was in charge of the gallant Mkwenda, who had eighty canoes. Tori commanded a force of musketeers, and with his four howitzers was stationed on the causeway, which was by this time two hundred yards from the shore. "In the above manner the fleet of vessels, containing some sixteen thousand men, moved to the attack upon Ingira. The centre, defended by the flanks, which were to menace the rear of the Wavuma should they approach near the causeway, resolutely advanced to within thirty yards of Ingira, and poured in a most murderous fire among the slingers of the island, who, imagining that the Waganda meant to carry the island by storm, boldly stood exposed, resolved to fight. But they were unable to maintain that courageous behavior long. Mkwenda then moved up from the left, and attacked with his musketeers the Wavuma on the right, riddling their canoes, and making matters specially hot for them in that quarter. [Illustration: ONE OF THE GREAT NAVAL BATTLES BETWEEN THE WAGANDA AND THE WAVUMA, IN THE CHANNEL BETWEEN INGIRA ISLAND AND CAPE NAKARANGA.] "The Wavuma, seeing matters approaching a crisis, and not wishing to die tamely, manned their canoes, and one hundred and ninety-six dashed impetuously, as at first, from the rushes of Ingira with loud, shrill yells, and the Waganda lines moved backward to the centre of the channel, where they bravely and coolly maintained their position. As the centre of the Uganda line parted in front of the causeway and disclosed the hotly advancing enemy, Tori aimed the howitzers and fired at a group of about twenty canoes, completely shattering more than half of them, and, reloading one quickly, he discharged several bolts of iron three inches long among them with terrible effect. Before this cool bearing of the Waganda the Wavuma retired to their island again, and we saw numbers of canoes discharging their dead and wounded, and the Waganda were summoned to Nakaranga shore to receive the congratulations of the emperor and the applause of the vast multitude. Mtesa went down to the water's edge to express his satisfaction at their behavior. [Illustration: SMALL CANOE.] "'Go at them again,' said he, 'and show them what fighting is.' And the line of battle was again formed, and again the Wavuma darted from the cover of the reeds and water-cane with the swiftness of hungry sharks, beating the water into foam with their paddles, and rending the air with their piercing yells. It was one of the most exciting and animating scenes I ever beheld. The Waganda distinguished themselves for coolness and method, and the Wavuma, as on a former occasion, for intrepidity and desperate courage." [Illustration: VIEW OF THE COUNTRY NEAR MTESA'S CAMP.] "Mtesa did not make any progress in his war upon the Wavuma," said Fred, "and became very ill-natured in consequence. One day he captured a Wavuma chief, whom he proposed to burn to death. The man was bound to a stake, and fagots were piled around him ready to be lighted, when Stanley interfered. With great difficulty, and only upon the threat of going away immediately, he succeeded in persuading Mtesa not to carry out his intention. Mtesa had repeatedly asked Stanley's advice and assistance. Stanley was anxious to end the war, and continue his journey, and at the same time he wished to prevent bloodshed. So he proposed to the king that in return for granting his request to spare the life of the Wavuma chief he would build something that would strike terror to the Wavuma and force them to submit. Let us hear his story of what he did: "'You must give me plenty of men to help me, and in three days I shall be ready,' I said to Mtesa. 'Meantime shout out to the Wavuma from the causeway that you have something which will be so terrible that it will finish the war at once.' "'Take everybody, do anything you like; I will give you Sekebobo and all his men.' "The next morning Sekebobo brought about two thousand men before my quarters, and requested to know my will. I told him to despatch one thousand men to cut long poles one inch thick, three hundred to cut poles three inches thick and seven feet long, one hundred to cut straight long trees four inches thick, and one hundred to disbark all these and make bark rope. Himself and five hundred men I wished to assist me at the beach. The chief communicated my instructions and urged them to be speedy, as it was the emperor's command, and himself accompanied me to the canoe fleet. "I selected three of the strongest-built canoes, each seventy feet long and six and a half feet wide, and, after preparing a space of ground near the water's edge, had them drawn up parallel with one another, and four feet apart from each other. With these three canoes I began to construct a floating platform, laying the tall trees across the canoes, and lashing them firmly to the thwarts, and as fast as the seven-foot poles came I had them lashed in an upright position to the thwarts of the outer canoes, and as fast as the inch poles arrived I had them twisted in among these uprights, so that when completed it resembled an oblong stockade, seventy feet long by twenty-seven feet wide, which the spears of the enemy could not penetrate. [Illustration: THE FLOATING FORTLET MOVING TOWARDS INGIRA.] "On the afternoon of the second day the floating fort was finished, and Mtesa and his chiefs came down to the beach to see it launched and navigated for a trial trip. The chiefs, when they saw it, began to say it would sink, and communicated their fears to Mtesa, who half believed them. But the emperor's women said to him: 'Leave Stamlee alone; he would not make such a thing if he did not know that it would float.' "On receiving orders to launch it, I selected sixty paddlers, and one hundred and fifty musketeers of the body-guard to stand by to embark as soon as it should be afloat, and appointed Tori and one of my own best men to superintend its navigation, and told them to close the gate of the fort as soon as they pushed off from the land. About one thousand men were then set to work to launch it, and soon it was floating in the water, and when the crew and garrison, two hundred and fourteen souls, were in it, it was evident to all that it rode the waves of the lake easily and safely-- "'The invention all admired, and each how he To be the inventor missed, so easy it seemed Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought Impossible'-- "and a burst of applause from the army rewarded the inventor. "Several long blue Kaniki and white and red cloths were hoisted above this curious structure, which, when closed up all round, appeared to move of its own accord in a very mysterious manner, and to conceal within its silent and impenetrable walls some dread thing, well calculated to strike terror into the mind of the ignorant savage. "At eight o'clock, on the morning of the 13th of October, the army was assembled at Nakaranga with unusual display, and it was proclaimed across the strait from the extremity of the causeway, that a terrible thing was approaching which would blow them into atoms if they did not make peace at once, and acknowledge the power of Mtesa; and I believe that they declared that all the Muzimus and the charms of Uganda were within, for I heard something said about Muzimu and Uganda. The old Mvuma chief was also placed in prominent view, and induced to urge them to accept the terms which Mtesa offered, viz., pardon to all, provided they went through the form of submission. After this announcement, which was made with all gravity, the awful mysterious structure appeared, while the drums beat a tremendous sound, and the multitude of horns blew a deafening blast. "It was a moment of anxiety to me, for manifold reasons. The fort, perfectly defensible in itself against the most furious assaults by men armed with spears, steadily approached the point, then steered direct for the island of Ingira, until it was within fifty yards. "'Speak,' said a stentorian voice, amid a deathly silence within. 'What will you do? Will you make peace and submit to Mtesa, or shall we blow up the island? Be quick and answer.' "There was a moment's consultation among the awe-stricken Wavuma. Immediate decision was imperative. The structure was vast, totally unlike anything that was ever visible on the waters of their sea. There was no person visible, yet a voice spoke clear and loud. Was it a spirit, the Wazimu of all Uganda, more propitious to their enemy's prayers than those of the Wavuma? It might contain some devilish, awful thing, something similar to the evil spirits which in their hours of melancholy and gloom their imagination invoked. There was an audacity and confidence in its movements that was perfectly appalling. "'Speak,' repeated the stern voice; 'we cannot wait longer.' "Immediately, to our relief, a man, evidently a chief, answered, 'Enough; let Mtesa be satisfied. We will collect the tribute to-day, and will come to Mtesa. Return, O spirit, the war is ended!' At which the mysterious structure solemnly began its return back to the cove where it had been constructed, and the quarter of a million of savage human beings, spectators of the extraordinary scene, gave a shout that seemed to split the very sky, and Ingira's bold height repeated the shock of sound back to Nakaranga. [Illustration: UGANDA WAR CANOE.] "Three hours afterwards, a canoe came from Ingira Island, bearing fifty men, some of whom were chiefs. They brought with them several tusks of ivory, which were delivered over to the charge of the steward. The old Mvuma chief was surrendered to his tribe, and thus the long war terminated on the evening of the 13th of October, 1875. "Glad shouts from both sides announced all parties equally pleased. The same afternoon, the canoe fleet of Uganda, which had by this time been reduced to two hundred and seventy-five in number, was escorted as far as Jinja by twenty Wavuma canoes, and after it had departed and rounded Namagongo Point, releasing their late foe from all fear of treachery, the Wavuma canoes presented us with a peaceful exhibition of their dexterity, and gave us an opportunity of viewing them more distinctly than we had previously been able to do through the smoke of gunpowder." [Illustration: WANGWANA HUT IN CAMP.] "As soon as peace was declared," said Fred, after a pause, "the king returned to his capital, and the army was dispersed. Mr. Stanley accompanied the king, and, after resting a few days, reminded Mtesa of his promise to give him a powerful escort to take the expedition to the Muta Nzege, a lake lying to the south of Albert Lake, and about two hundred miles west of Victoria Lake. Mtesa did as he had agreed, and sent an escort of about two thousand warriors under command of a general named Sambuzi. Escorted by several war-canoes, Stanley went to Dumo, where his camp had been established during the time the leader was absent with Mtesa in the war against the Wavuma. Frank Pocock had remained at the camp, and Stanley was greatly pleased to find everything in order and his men in excellent condition. [Illustration: HUT AT JINJA.] "The men had built comfortable huts and were abundantly supplied with food. The natives all around them were friendly in obedience to the orders they received from the king; altogether the Zanzibaris were having such a good time that they were in no hurry to leave. [Illustration: HEAD OF CENTRAL AFRICAN HARTEBEEST.] "On the seventh day after his return to Dumo, Stanley began his march towards the Katonga River, where he was to meet the Waganda escort under Sambuzi for the journey to Muta Nzege. He was obliged to halt several days at a place called Kikoma to wait for Sambuzi; the country was full of wild animals, and Stanley took advantage of the halt to shoot game to supply meat for the expedition. In five days he killed fifty-seven hartebeest, two zebra, and one water-buck. Lions and leopards were said to be abundant, but he did not get a shot at them. [Illustration: THE CAMP OF THE EXPEDITION.] "On New Year's day, 1876, the expedition crossed the boundary between Uganda and Unyoro. The king of the latter country was at war with the Egyptians who had established themselves on Albert Lake, and it was very soon evident that he would oppose the invasion of his territory by Stanley's expedition. Mr. Stanley sent out scouts to ascertain the state of affairs, and their interviews with the natives showed that the latter intended to fight. A mission to the king failed to secure permission to proceed, but during the time required for the mission Stanley had reached a point only a few miles from the lake. "Much of the country on the line of march was rough and picturesque, and Mr. Stanley names it the Switzerland of Africa. Mount Edwin Arnold is near the site of one of the camps of the expedition; it is estimated to be nine thousand feet above the level of the sea. [Illustration: MOUNT EDWIN ARNOLD.] "The courage of the Waganda disappeared when there was a prospect of fighting, and in spite of all the arguments which Mr. Stanley advanced they determined to return to their own country. He reached the shore of the lake, but finding the king bent upon war, and the Waganda refusing to remain with him, he was forced to leave without making the desired exploration. He was bitterly disappointed at the failure of this part of his expedition, but there was no help for it." "Did he go back to King Mtesa's capital," asked one of the listeners, "or continue his journey another way?" [Illustration: MARCHING TOWARDS MUTA NZEGE: MOUNT GORDON-BENNETT IN THE DISTANCE.] "He went to the frontier of Uganda, but not to the capital," replied Fred. "There he parted with Sambuzi and decided to travel southward to Lake Tanganika with no other escort than his own men. Mtesa sent to him the offer of an escort of fifty thousand or one hundred thousand men to Muta Nzege, but after his experiences with Waganda soldiers he declined the offer with many thanks, and presents of cloth, beads, and other valuable things. Then he marched southward into Karagwé, the country of King Rumanika, where he was hospitably received. Here is his account of his reception: [Illustration: GRASS-ROOFED HUT, UNYORO.] [Illustration: NATIVE HUT, KARAGWÉ.] "On the 25th of February we entered the Arab depot of Kafurro, in Karagwé. The place owes its importance to being a settlement of two or three rich Arab traders, Hamed Ibrahim, Sayid bin Sayf, and Sayid the Muscati. It is situated within a deep hollow or valley fully twelve hundred feet below the tops of the surrounding mountains, and at the spring source of a stream flowing east and afterwards north to the Alexandra Nile. "Hamed Ibrahim is rich in cattle, slaves, and ivory. Assuming his own figures to be correct, he possesses one hundred and fifty cattle, bullocks, and milch cows, forty goats, one hundred slaves, and four hundred and fifty tusks of ivory, the greater part of which last is reported to be safely housed in the safe-keeping of his friend the chief of Urangwa in Unyamwezi. "Hamed has a spacious and comfortable gable-roofed house. He is a fine, gentlemanly-looking Arab, of a light complexion, generous and hospitable to friends, liberal to his slaves, and kind to everybody. He has lived eighteen years in Africa, twelve of which have been spent in Karagwé. He knew Suna, the warlike Emperor of Uganda, and father of Mtesa. He has travelled to Uganda frequently, and several times made the journey between Unyanyembé and Kafurro. Having lived so long in Karagwé, he is friendly with Rumanika, who, like Mtesa, loves to attract strangers to his court. [Illustration: VIEW NEAR KAFURRO.] "Hamed has endeavored several times to open trade with the powerful Empress of Ruanda, but has each time failed. Though some of his slaves succeeded in reaching the imperial court, only one or two managed to effect their escape from the treachery and extraordinary guile practised there. Nearly all perished by poison. [Illustration: CENTRAL AFRICAN ANTELOPE, KARAGWÉ.] "'All these people,' said he, 'about here are as different from the ordinary Washensi--pagans--as I am different from them. When you go to see Rumanika, you will see some Wanya-Ruanda, and you may then judge for yourself. The people of that country are not cowards. They have taken Kishakka, Muvari, and have lately conquered Mpororo. The Waganda measured their strength with them, and were obliged to retreat. The Wanya-Ruanda are a great people, but they are covetous, malignant, treacherous, and utterly untrustworthy. They have never yet allowed an Arab to trade in their country, which proves them to be a bad lot. There is plenty of ivory there, and during the last eight years Khamis bin Abdullah, Tippu-Tib, Sayid bin Habib, and I myself have attempted frequently to enter there, but none of us has ever succeeded. Even Rumanika's people are not allowed to penetrate far, though he permits everybody to come into his country, and he is a man of their own blood and their own race, and speaks with little difference their own language.' "Hamed Ibrahim was not opening out very brilliant prospects before me, nevertheless I resolved to search out in person some known road to this strange country that I might make a direct course to Nyangwé. "On the third day after arrival, the king having been informed of my intended visit, Hamed Ibrahim and Sayid bin Sayf accompanied me on an official visit to Rumanika, King of Karagwé, and a tributary of Mtesa, Emperor of Uganda. "Kafurro, according to aneroid barometer, is 3950 feet above the ocean. Ascending the steep slope of the mountain west of Kafurro, we gained an altitude of 5150 feet, and half an hour afterwards stood upon a ridge 5350 feet above the sea, whence we obtained a most grand and imposing view. Some six hundred feet below us was a grassy terrace overlooking the small Windermere Lake, one thousand feet below, its placid surface rivalling in color the azure of the cloudless heaven. Across a narrow ridge we looked upon the broad and papyrus-covered valley of the Alexandra, while many fair blue lakelets north and south, connected by the winding silver line of the Alexandra Nile, suggested that here exploring work of a most interesting character was needed to understand the complete relations of lake, river, and valley to one another. "Beyond the broad valley rose ridge after ridge, separated from each other by deep parallel basins or valleys, and behind these, receding into dim and vague outlines, towered loftier ridges. About sixty miles off, to the northwest, rose a colossal sugar-loaf clump of enormous altitude, which I was told was the Ufumbiro Mountains. From their northern base extended Mpororo country and South Ruanda. [Illustration: VIEW OF UFUMBIRO MOUNTAINS FROM MOUNT NEAR MTAGATA HOT SPRINGS.] "On the grassy terrace below us was situated Rumanika's village, fenced round by a strong and circular stockade, to which we now descended after having enjoyed a noble and inspiriting prospect. "Our procession was not long in attracting hundreds of persons, principally youths, all the latter being perfectly nude. "'Who are these?' I inquired of Sheik Hamed. "'Some of the youngest are sons of Rumanika, others are young Wanya-Ruanda,' he replied. "The sons of Rumanika, nourished on a milk diet, were in remarkably good condition. Their unctuous skins shone as though the tissues of fat beneath were dissolving in the heat, and their rounded bodies were as taut as a drum-head. Their eyes were large, and beaming and lustrous with life, yet softened by an extreme gentleness of expression. The sculptor might have obtained from any of these royal boys a dark model for another statue to rival the classic Antinous. "As we were followed by the youths, who welcomed us with a graceful courtesy, the appropriate couplet came to my mind-- "Thrice happy race! that, innocent of blood, From milk innoxious seek their simple food." "We were soon ushered into the hut wherein Rumanika sat expectant, with one of the kindliest, most paternal smiles it would be possible to conceive. [Illustration: RUMANIKA'S TREASURE-HOUSE.] "I confess to have been as affected by the first glance at this venerable and gentle pagan as though I gazed on the serene and placid face of some Christian patriarch or saint of old, whose memory the Church still holds in reverence. His face reminded me of a deep, still well; the tones of his voice were so calm that, unconsciously, they compelled me to imitate him, while the quick, nervous gestures and the bold voice of Sheik Hamed, seeming entirely out of place, jarred upon me. "It was no wonder that the peremptory and imperious, vivid-eyed Mtesa respected and loved this sweet-tempered pagan. Though they had never met, Mtesa's pages had described him, and with their powers of mimicry had brought the soft, modulated tones of Rumanika to his ears as truly as they had borne his amicable messages to him. "Nature, which had endowed Mtesa with a nervous and intense temperament, had given Rumanika the placid temper, the soft voice, the mild benignity, and pleasing character of a gentle father. "The king appeared to me, clad as he was in red blanket-cloth, when seated, a man of middle size; but when he afterwards stood up he rose to the gigantic stature of six feet six inches, or thereabouts, for the top of my head, as we walked side by side, only reached near his shoulders. His face was long, and his nose somewhat Roman in shape; the profile showed a decidedly refined type. "Our interview was very pleasing, and he took excessive interest in every question I addressed to him. When I spoke he imposed silence on his friends, and leaned forward with eager attention. If I wished to know anything about the geography of the country, he immediately sent for some particular person who was acquainted with that portion, and inquired searchingly of him as to his knowledge. He chuckled when he saw me use my note-book, as though he had some large personal interest in the number of notes I took. He appeared to be more and more delighted as their bulk increased, and triumphantly pointed out to the Arabs the immense superiority of the whites to them. [Illustration: A SPEARMAN OF KARAGWÉ.] "He expressed himself as only too glad that I should explore his country. It was a land, he said, that white men ought to know. It possessed many lakes and rivers, and mountains and hot springs, and many other things which no other country could boast of. "'Which do you think best, Stamlee--Karagwé or Uganda?' "'Karagwé is grand; its mountains are high, and its valleys deep. The Kagera is a grand river, and the lakes are very pretty. There are more cattle in Karagwé than in Uganda, except Uddu and Koki; and game is abundant. But Uganda is beautiful and rich; its banana plantations are forests, and no man need to fear starvation, and Mtesa is good--and so is Father Rumanika,' I replied, smiling, to him. [Illustration: MOUNTAIN SCENE IN KARAGWÉ.] "'Do you hear him, Arabs? Does he not speak well? Yes, Karagwé is beautiful,' he sighed, contentedly. 'But bring your boat up, and place it on the Rweru (lake), and you can go up the river as far as Kishakka, and down to Morongo (the falls), where the water is thrown against a big rock and leaps over it, and then goes down to the Nianja of Uganda. Verily, my river is a great one; it is the mother of the river at Jinja (Ripon Falls).' [Illustration: BOAT ON LAKE WINDERMERE.] "By the 6th of March Frank had launched the boat from the landing at Kazinga village, on the waters of the Windermere Lake,[6] or the Rweru of Rumanika, and the next day Rumanika accompanied me in state to the water. Half a dozen heavy anklets of bright copper adorned his legs, bangles of the same metal encircled his wrists, and a robe of crimson flannel was suspended from his shoulders. His walking-staff was seven feet in length, and his stride was a yard long. Drummers and fifers discoursing a wild music, and fifty spearmen, besides his sons and relatives, Wanya-Ruanda, Waganda, Wasui, Wanyamwezi, Arabs, and Wangwana, followed us in a mixed multitude. [6] This lake received its name from Captain Speke, because Colonel Grant, his companion, thought it resembled the Windermere Lake in England. "Four canoes, manned by Wamyambu, were at hand to race with our boat, while we took our seats on the grassy slopes of Kazinga to view the scene. I enjoined Frank and the gallant boat's crew to exert themselves for the honor of us Children of the Ocean, and not to permit the Children of the Lakes to excel us. "A boat and canoe race on the Windermere of Karagwé, with twelve hundred gentle-mannered natives gazing on! An African international affair! Rumanika was in his element; every fibre of him tingled with joy at the prospective fun. His sons, seated around him, looked up into their father's face, their own reflecting his delight. The curious natives shared in the general gratification. "The boat-race was soon over; it was only for about eight hundred yards, to Kankorogo Point. There was not much difference in the speed, but it gave immense satisfaction. The native canoe-men, standing up with their long paddles, strained themselves with all their energy, stimulated by the shouts of their countrymen, while the Wangwana on the shore urged the boat's crew to their utmost power. "The next day we began the circumnavigation of the Windermere. The extreme length of the lake during the rainy season is about eight miles, and its extreme breadth two and a half. It lies north and south, surrounded by grass-covered mountains, which rise from twelve hundred to fifteen hundred feet above it. There is one island, called Kankorogo, situated midway between Mount Isossi and the extreme southern end. The soil of the shores is highly ferruginous in color, and, except in the vicinity of the villages, produces only euphorbia, thorny gum, acacia, and aloetic plants. "On the 9th we pulled abreast of Kankorogo Island, and, through a channel from five hundred to eight hundred yards wide, directed our course to the Kagera, up which we had to contend against a current of two knots and a half an hour. "The breadth of the river varied from fifty to one hundred yards. The average depth of all the ten soundings we made on this day was fifty-two feet along the middle; close to the papyrus walls, which grew like a forest above us, was a depth of nine feet. Sometimes we caught a view of hippopotamus creeks running up for hundreds of yards on either side through the papyrus. At Kagayyo, on the left bank, we landed for a short time to take a view of the scene around, as, while in the river, we could see nothing except the papyrus, the tops of the mountain ridges of Karagwé, and the sky. "We then learned for the first time the true character of what we had imagined to be a valley when we gazed upon it from the summit of the mountain between Kafurro and Rumanika's capital. [Illustration: KAGERA SKIFF.] "The Ingezi, as the natives called it, embraces the whole space from the base of the Mountains of Muvari to that of the Karagwé ridges with the river called Kagera, the Funzo or the papyrus, and the Rwerus or lakes, of which there are seventeen, inclusive of Windermere. Its extreme width between the bases of the opposing mountains is nine miles; the narrowest part is about a mile, while the entire acreage covered by it from Morongo or the falls in Iwanda, north, to Uhimba, south, is about three hundred and fifty square miles. The Funzo or papyrus covers a depth of from nine feet to fourteen feet of water. Each of the several lakes has a depth of from twenty to sixty-five feet, and they are all connected, as also is the river, underneath the papyrus. "When about three miles north of Kizinga, at 5 P.M., we drew our boat close to the papyrus, and prepared for our night's rest, and the Wanyambu did the same. [Illustration: NATIVE WOMAN OF FASHION.] "The boat's crew crushed down some of the serest papyrus, and, cutting off the broom-like tops, spread their mats upon the heap thus made, flattering themselves that they were going to have a cosey night of it. Their fires they kindled between three stalks, which sustained their cooking-pots. It was not a very successful method, as the stalks had to be replaced frequently; but, finally, their bananas were done to a turn. At night, however, mosquitoes of a most voracious species attacked them in dense multitudes, and nothing but the constant flip-flap of the papyrus tops, mingled with complaints that they were unable to sleep, were heard for an hour or two. They then began to feel damp, and finally wet, for their beds were sinking into the depths below the papyrus, and they were compelled at last to come into the boat, where they passed a most miserable night, for the mosquitoes swarmed and attacked them until morning with all the pertinacity characteristic of these hungry blood-suckers. "The next day we ascended the Kagera about ten miles, and, returning fourteen miles, entered Ihema Lake, a body of water about fifty square miles, and camped on Ihema Island, about a mile from Muvari. [Illustration: IHEMA HUT.] "The natives of Ihema Island stated to me that Lake Muta Nzege was only eleven days' journey from the Muvari shores, and that the Wanya-Ruanda frequently visited them to obtain fish in exchange for milk and vegetables. They were a genial people, those islanders of Ihema, but they were subject to two painful diseases, leprosy and elephantiasis. The water of the Lake Ihema was good and sweet to the taste, though, like all the waters of the Alexandra Nile, distinguished for its dull, brown, iron color. "We began from the extreme south end of the lake the next day to coast along the Muvari or Ruanda coast, and near a small village attempted to land, but the natives snarled like so many spiteful dogs, and drew their bows, which compelled us--being guests of Rumanika--to sheer off, and leave them in their ferocious exclusiveness. [Illustration: A NATIVE OF UHHA.] "On the 11th we rowed into the Kagera, and descended the river as far as Ugoi, and on the evening of the 12th returned once more to our camp on Windermere." [Illustration: BOAT ON LAKE IHEMA.] Here Fred regarded his watch, and said he would adjourn the reading until next day, when his place would be taken by Frank. The usual vote of thanks was passed unanimously, and then the little band of geographical students separated for the night. [Illustration: HUT OF UGANDA. SMALL TEMBÉ OF UGOGO.] CHAPTER VI. STANLEY TELLS ABOUT KING RUMANIKA.--THE KARAGWÉ GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY.--THE KING'S TREASURE-HOUSE.--GOOD-BYE TO HIS MAJESTY.--HOSTILITY BETWEEN ELEPHANT AND RHINOCEROS.--PLUNDERED IN USUI.--THE SOURCES OF THE ALEXANDRA NILE.--RETROSPECTION.--QUESTIONS OF TOPOGRAPHY.--INSOLENCE OF MANKORONGO.--DEATH OF "BULL."--TROUBLES WITH THE PETTY KINGS.--INTERVIEW WITH THE FAMOUS MIRAMBO.--GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE RENOWNED AFRICAN.--AN IMPOSING CEREMONY.--BLOOD-BROTHERHOOD.--HOW GRANT'S CARAVAN WAS PLUNDERED.--MYONGA'S THREATS.--A COMPROMISE.--AMONG THE WATUTA.--IN SIGHT OF LAKE TANGANIKA.--ARRIVAL AT UJIJI. During all the forenoon of the following day Frank was busy preparing his matter for the work of the afternoon. When the party of youths had assembled Mr. Stanley came among them and asked at what point in the story of the Dark Continent they stopped on the previous evening. "We were in the country of King Rumanika, I believe it is called Karagwé," said one of the auditors; "and you had just returned from exploring Lake Windermere." [Illustration: HOUSE OF ARAB MERCHANT NEAR RUMANIKA'S VILLAGE.] "Ah, yes," replied Mr. Stanley, "he was a charming old man, that Rumanika, and very fond of strangers. After I had explored the lake he sent for me, and wanted to have a talk on geographical subjects. Of course I went to meet him." "Did he know anything about geography outside of his own country?" was the very natural inquiry of Fred. "Not much," was the reply; "and what he did know was very hazy. But he pretended to know a great deal about Africa, and gave me some startling information, which I gravely put down in my note-book. The sight of that note-book always seemed to inspire him to tell the wildest stories about his country, and I presume he thought I would spread them before my countrymen as the most solemn truths. "For example," continued Mr. Stanley, "he said at one of our meetings: "'Mkinyaga is at the end of Ruanda, and its lake is Muta Nzege, on which you can go to Unyoro. There is a race of dwarfs, somewhere west of Mkinyaga, called the Mpundu, and another called the Batwa, or Watwa, who are only two feet high. In Uriambwa is a race of small people with tails. "'Uitwa, or Batwa--Watwa--is at the extreme south end of Uzongora. "'From Butwa, at the end of a point of land in Ruanda, you can see Uitwa Usongora. "'From Butwa, Mkinyaga is to the left of you about three days' journey. [Illustration: ON THE WAY TO THE MEETING.] "'Some of the Waziwa saw a strange people in one of those far-off lands who had long ears descending to their feet; one ear formed a mat to sleep on, the other served to cover him from the cold, like a dressed hide! They tried to coax one of them to come and see me, but the journey was long, and he died on the way.' "Another time he said: "'Stamlee, how is it, will you tell me, that all white men have long noses, and all their dogs have very short noses, while almost all black men have short noses but their dogs have very long noses?' "He had observed the broad, short nose of my British bull-dog, and hastily arrived at the conclusion that all white men's dogs were pug-nosed. [Illustration: GROUND-PLAN OF KING'S HOUSE.] "Rumanika propounded a great many other questions, which I answered to the best of my ability, and generally to his satisfaction. I was somewhat puzzled about his question regarding the noses, but finally explained that originally the white men and their dogs had noses of the same length. The men had lengthened theirs by constantly smelling the good things they had to eat, while the dogs had shortened their noses by using them to push open the doors of the houses. "Another day," continued Mr. Stanley, quoting from his work: "Rumanika requested Hamed Ibrahim to exhibit the treasures, trophies, and curiosities in the king's museum or armory, which Hamed was most anxious to do, as he had frequently extolled the rare things there. "The armory was a circular hut, resembling externally a dome, thatched neatly with straw. It was about thirty feet in diameter. "The weapons and articles of brass, and copper, and iron, were in perfect order, and showed that Rumanika did not neglect his treasures. [Illustration: TREASURE-HOUSE, ARMS, AND TREASURES OF RUMANIKA.] "There were about sixteen rude brass figures of ducks with copper wings, ten curious things of the same metal, which were meant to represent elands, and ten headless cows of copper. Bill-hooks of iron, of really admirable make, double-bladed spears, several gigantic blades of exceedingly keen edge, eight inches across and eighteen inches in length; exquisite spears, some with blades and staves of linked iron; others with chain-shaped staves, and several with a cluster of small rigid rings massed at the bottom of the blade and the end of the staff; others, copper-bladed, had curious inter-twisted iron rods for the staff. There were also great fly-flaps set in iron, the handles of which were admirable specimens of native art; massive cleaver-looking knives, with polished blades, and a kedge-anchor-shaped article with four hooked iron prongs, projecting out of a brass body. Some exquisite native cloths, manufactured of delicate grass, were indeed so fine as to vie with cotton sheeting, and were colored black and red, in patterns and stripes. The royal stool was a masterpiece of native turnery, being carved out of a solid log of cottonwood. Besides these specimens of native art were drinking-cups, goblets, trenchers, and milk-dishes of wood, all beautifully clean. The fireplace was a circular hearth in the centre of the building, very tastefully constructed. Ranged round the wall along the floor were other gifts from Arab friends, massive copper trays, with a few tureen-lids of Britannia-ware, evidently from Birmingham. Nor must the revolving rifle given to him by Captain Speke be forgotten, for it had an honored place, and Rumanika loves to look at it, for it recalls to his memory the figures of his genial white friends, Speke and Grant. "The enormous drums, fifty-two in number, ranged outside, enabled us, from their very appearance, to guess at the deafening sounds which celebrate the new moon or deliver the signals for war. "My parting with the genial old man was very affecting. He shook my hands many times, saying each time that he was sorry that my visit must be so short. He strictly charged his sons to pay me every attention until I should arrive at Kibogora's, the king of western Usui, who, he was satisfied, would be glad to see me as a friend of Rumanika. "On the 26th of March the expedition, after its month's rest at Kafurro, the whole of which period I had spent in exploration of western Karagwé, resumed its journey, and after a march of five miles camped at Nakawanga, near the southern base of Kibonga Mountain. "On the 27th I had the good-fortune to shoot three rhinoceroses, from the bodies of which we obtained ample supplies of meat for our journey through the wilderness of Uhimba. One of these enormous brutes possessed a horn two feet long, with a sharp, dagger-like point below a stunted horn, nine inches in length. He appeared to have had a tussle with some wild beast, for a hand's-breadth of hide was torn from his rump. "The Wangwana and Wanyambu informed me, with the utmost gravity, that the elephant maltreats the rhinoceros frequently, because of a jealousy that the former entertains of his fiery cousin. "Should a rhinoceros meet an elephant he must observe the rule of the road, and walk away, for the latter brooks no rivalry; but the former is sometimes head-strong, and the elephant then despatches him with his tusks by forcing him against a tree and goring him, or by upsetting him, and leisurely crushing him. "During the next two days we travelled twenty-seven miles south through a depression, or a longitudinal valley, parallel to Uhimba Lake and the course of the Alexandra, with only an intervening ridge excluding the latter from our view. Tall, truncated hill-cones rise every now and then, with a singular resemblance to each other, to the same altitude as the grassy ridges which flank them. Their summits are flat, but the iron-stone faithfully indicates by its erosions the element which separated them from the ridges, and first furrowed the valley. "And now," said Mr. Stanley, "having told you about King Rumanika, and how I left him, I will lapse into silence and let you hear from Frank." With this hint, Frank opened the volume before him and read: [Illustration: THE EXPEDITION TRAVERSING THE VALLEY.] "Uhimba, placed by Rumanika in the charge of his sons, Kakoko, Kananga, and Ruhinda, is sixty-eight miles south of his capital, and consists of a few settlements of herdsmen. I was courteously received by Kakoko, and remained there two days. The next day we entered western Usui, and camped at Kafurra's. In Usui there was a famine, and it required thirty-two doti of cloth to purchase four days' rations. Kibogora, King of Usui, demanded and obtained thirty doti, one coil of wire, and forty necklaces of beads as tribute; Kafurra, his principal chief, demanded ten doti and a quantity of beads; another chief required five doti; the queen required a supply of cloth to wear; the princes put in a claim; the guides were loud for their reward. Thus in four days we were compelled to disburse two bales out of twenty-two--all that were left of the immense store we had departed with from Zanzibar. Under such circumstances what prospect of exploration had we? Were we to continue our journey through Uhha, that land which, in 1871, had consumed at the rate of two bales of cloth per diem? Twenty days of such experience in Uhha would reduce us to beggary. Its 'esurient' Mutwarés and rapacious Mkamas and other extortionate people can only be quieted with cloth and beads disbursed with a princely hand. One hundred bales of cloth would only suffice to sustain a hundred men in Uhha about six weeks. Beyond Uhha lay the impenetrable countries of Urundi and Ruanda, the inhabitants of which were hostile to strangers. [Illustration: POTTERY IN USUI.] "Kibogora and Kafurra were sufficiently explicit and amiably communicative, for my arrival in their country had been under the very best auspices, viz., an introduction from the gentle and beloved Rumanika. "I turned away with a sigh from the interesting land, but with a resolution gradually being intensified, that the third time I sought a road west, nothing should deter me. "On the 7th of April we reluctantly resumed our journey in a southerly direction, and travelled five miles along a ravine, at the bottom of which murmured the infant stream Lohugati. On coming to its source, we ascended a steep slope until we stood upon the summit of a grassy ridge at the height of five thousand six hundred feet by aneroid. "Not until we had descended about a mile to the valley of Uyagoma, did I recognize the importance of this ridge as the water-parting between one of the feeders of Lake Victoria and the source of the Malagarazi, the principal affluent of Lake Tanganika. "Though by striking across Uhha due west, or to the southwest, we should again have reached the Alexandra Nile and the affluents of the Alexandra Lake, our future course was destined never to cross another stream or rivulet that supplied the great river which flows through the land of Egypt into the Mediterranean Sea. "From the 17th of January, 1875, up to the 7th of April, 1876, we had been engaged in tracing the extreme southern sources of the Nile, from the marshy plains and cultivated uplands where they are born, down to the mighty reservoir called the Victoria Nyanza. We had circumnavigated the entire expanse; penetrated to every bay, inlet, and creek; become acquainted with almost every variety of wild human nature--the mild and placable, the ferocious and impracticably savage, the hospitable and the inhospitable, the generous-souled as well as the ungenerous; we had viewed their methods of war, and had witnessed them imbruing their hands in each other's blood with savage triumph and glee; we had been five times sufferers by their lust for war and murder, and had lost many men through their lawlessness and ferocity; we had travelled hundreds of miles to and fro on foot along the northern coast of the Victorian Sea, and, finally, had explored with a large force the strange countries lying between the two lakes Muta Nzege and the Victoria, and had been permitted to gaze upon the arm of the lake named by me 'Beatrice Gulf,' and to drink of its sweet waters. We had then returned from further quest in that direction, unable to find a peaceful resting-place on the lake shores, and had struck south from the Katonga lagoon down to the Alexandra Nile, the principal affluent of the Victoria Lake, which drains nearly all the waters from the west and southwest. We had made a patient survey of over one half of its course, and then, owing to want of the means to feed the rapacity of the churlish tribes which dwell in the vicinity of the Alexandra Nyanza, and to our reluctance to force our way against the will of the natives, opposing unnecessarily our rifles to their spears and arrows, we had been compelled, on the 7th of April, to bid adieu to the lands which supply the Nile, and to turn our faces towards the Tanganika. "I have endeavored to give a faithful portrayal of nature, animate and inanimate, in all its strange, peculiar phases, as they were unfolded to us. I am conscious that I have not penetrated to the depths; but then, I have not ventured beyond the limits assigned me, viz., the Exploration of the Southern Sources of the Nile, and the solution of the problem left unsolved by Speke and Grant--Is the Victoria Nyanza one lake, or does it consist of five lakes, as reported by Livingstone, Burton, and others? This problem has been satisfactorily solved, and Speke has now the full glory of having discovered the largest inland sea on the continent of Africa, also its principal affluent, as well as the outlet. I must also give him credit for having understood the geography of the countries he travelled through better than any of those who so persistently assailed his hypothesis, and I here record my admiration of the geographical genius that, from mere native report, first sketched with such a masterly hand the bold outlines of the Victoria Nyanza. Speke's hypothetic sketch made this lake twenty-nine thousand square miles in extent. My survey of it has reduced it to twenty-one thousand five hundred square miles. "Along the Valley of Uyagoma, in western Usui, stretches east and west a grass-covered ridge, beautiful in places with rock-strewn dingles, tapestried with ferns and moss, and bright with vivid foliage. From two such fair nooks, half-way down either slope, the northern and the southern, drip in great rich drops the sources of two impetuous rivers--on the southern the Malagarazi, on the other the Lohugati. Though nurtured in the same cradle, and issuing within two thousand yards of one another, the twin streams are strangers throughout their lives. Through the thick ferns and foliage the rivulets trickle each down his appointed slope, murmuring as they gather strength to run their destined course--the Lohugati to the Victoria Lake, and the Malagarazi to distant Tanganika. [Illustration: A VILLAGE IN WESTERN USUI.] "While the latter river is in its infancy, collecting its first tribute of waters from the rills that meander down from the mountain folds round the basin of Uyagoma, and is so shallow that tiny children can paddle through it, the people of Usui call it the Meruzi. When we begin our journey from Uyagoma, we follow its broadening course for a couple of hours, through the basin, and by that time it has become a river _nomine dignum_, and, plunging across it, we begin to breast the mountains, which, rising in diagonal lines of ridges from northeast to southwest across Usui, run in broken series into northern Uhha, and there lose themselves in a confusion of complicated masses and clumps. [Illustration: CAMP OF AN ARAB MERCHANT.] "The Meruzi wanders round and through these mountain masses in mazy curves, tumbles from height to height, from terrace to terrace, receiving as it goes the alliance of myriads of petty rivulets and threads of clear water, until, arriving at the grand forest lands of Unyamwezi, it has assumed the name of Lukoke, and serves as a boundary between Unyamwezi and Uhha. "Meanwhile, we have to cross a series of mountain ridges clothed with woods; and at a road leading from Kibogora's land to the territory of the turbulent and vindictive Mankorongo, we meet an embassy, which demands, in a most insolent tone, that we should pass by his village. This means, of course, that we must permit ourselves to be defrauded of two or three bales of cloth, half a dozen guns, a sack or two of beads, and such other property as he may choose to exact, for the privilege of lengthening our journey some forty miles, and a delay of two or three weeks. "The insolent demand is therefore not to be entertained, and we return a decided refusal. They are not satisfied with the answer, and resort to threats. Threats in the free, uninhabited forest constitute a _casus belli_. So the chiefs are compelled to depart without a yard of cloth on the instant, and after their departure we urge our pace until night, and from dawn next morning to 3 P.M. we continue the journey with unabated speed, until we find ourselves in Nyambarri, Usambiro, rejoiced to find that we have foiled the dangerous king. "On the 13th of April we halted to refresh the people. Usambiro, like all Unyamwezi, produces sufficient grain, sesamum, millet, Indian corn, and vetches, besides beans and pease, to supply all caravans and expeditions. I have observed that lands producing grain are more easy of access than pastoral countries, or those which only supply milk, bananas, and potatoes to their inhabitants. "At Nyambarri we met two Arab caravans fresh from Mankorongo, of whom they gave fearful accounts, from which I inferred that the extortionate chief would be by no means pleased when he came to understand how he had been baffled in his idea of spoliating our expedition. "During the march from Nyambarri to Gambawagao, the chief village of Usambiro, ancient "Bull," the last of all the canine companions which left England with me, borne down by weight of years and a land journey of about fifteen hundred miles, succumbed. With bull-dog tenacity he persisted in following the receding figures of the gun-bearers, who were accustomed to precede him in the narrow way. Though he often staggered and moaned, he made strenuous efforts to keep up, but at last, lying down in the path, he plaintively bemoaned the weakness of body that had conquered his will, and soon after died--his eyes to the last looking _forward_ along the track he had so bravely tried to follow. [Illustration: "BULL." (_From a Photograph by Mr Stanley._)] "Poor dog! Good and faithful service had he done me! Who more rejoiced than he to hear the rifle-shot ringing through the deep woods! Who more loudly applauded success than he with his deep, mellow bark! What long forest-tracts of tawny plains, and series of mountain ranges had he not traversed! How he plunged through jungle and fen, morass and stream! In the sable blackness of the night his voice warned off marauders and prowling beasts from the sleeping camp. His growl responded to the hideous jabber of the greedy hyena, and the snarling leopard did not dismay him. He amazed the wondering savages with his bold eyes and bearing, and by his courageous front caused them to retreat before him; and right bravely did he help us to repel the Wanyaturu from our camp in Ituru. Farewell, thou glory of thy race! Rest from thy labors in the silent forest! Thy feet shall no more hurry up the hill or cross mead and plain; thy form shall rustle no more through the grasses, or be plunging to explore the brake; thou shalt no longer dash after me across the savannahs, for thou art gone to the grave, like the rest of thy companions! "The king of Usambiro exchanged gifts with us, and appeared to be a clever, agreeable young man. His people, though professing to be Wanyamwezi, are a mixture of Wahha and Wazinja. He has constructed a strong village, and surrounded it with a fosse four feet deep and six feet wide, with a stockade and 'marksmen's nests' at intervals round it. The population of the capital is about two thousand. "Boma Kiengo, or Msera, lies five miles south-southeast from the capital, and its chief, seeing that we had arrived at such a good understanding with the king, also exerted himself to create a favorable impression. "Musonga lies twelve miles south-southeast of Boma Kiengo, and is the most northerly village of the country of Urangwa. On the 18th of April a march of fifteen miles enabled us to reach the capital, Ndeverva, another large stockaded village, also provided with 'marksmen's nests,' and surrounded by a fosse. "We were making capital marches. The petty kings, though they exacted a small interchange of gifts, which compelled me to disburse cloth a little more frequently than was absolutely necessary, were not insolent, nor so extortionate as to prevent our intercourse being of the most friendly character. But on the day we arrived at Urangwa, lo! there came up in haste, while we were sociably chatting together, a messenger to tell us that the phantom, the bugbear, the terror whose name silences the children of Unyamwezi and Usukuma, and makes women's hearts bound with fear, that Mirambo himself was coming--that he was only two camps, or about twenty miles, away--that he had an immense army of Ruga-Ruga (bandits) with him! "The consternation at this news, the dismay and excitement, the discussion and rapid interchange of ideas suggested by terror throughout the capital, may be conceived. Barricades were prepared, sharp-shooters' platforms, with thick bulwarks of logs, were erected. The women hastened to prepare their charms, the Waganda consulted their spirits, each warrior and elder examined his guns and loaded them, ramming the powder down the barrels of their Brummagem muskets with desperately vengeful intentions, while the king hastened backward and forward with streaming robes of cotton behind him, animated by an hysterical energy. "I had one hundred and seventy-five men under my command, and forty of the Arabs' people were with me, and we had many boxes of ammunition. The king recollected these facts, and said, 'You will stop to fight Mirambo, will you not?' "'Not I, my friend; I have no quarrel with Mirambo, and we cannot join every native to fight his neighbor. If Mirambo attacks the village while I am here, and will not go away when I ask him, we will fight, but we cannot stop here to wait for him.' "The poor king was very much distressed when we left the next morning. We despatched our scouts ahead, as we usually did when traversing troublous countries, and omitted no precaution to guard against surprise. [Illustration: A HUT AND ITS FRAME.] "On the 19th we arrived at one of the largest villages or towns in Unyamwezi, called Serombo or Sorombo. It was two miles and a half in circumference, and probably contained over a thousand large and small huts, and a population of about five thousand. [Illustration: VIEW IN THE INTERIOR OF AN AFRICAN VILLAGE.] "The present king's name is Ndega, a boy of sixteen, the son of Makaka, who died about two years ago. Too young himself to govern the large settlement and the country round, two elders, or Manyapara, act as regents during his minority. "We were shown to a peculiar-shaped hut, extremely like an Abyssinian dwelling. The height of the doorway was seven feet, and from the floor to the top of the conical roof it was twenty feet. The walls were of interwoven sticks, plastered over neatly with brown clay. The king's house was thirty feet high from the ground to the tip of the cone, and forty feet in diameter within; but the total diameter, including the circular fence or palisade that supported the broad eaves and enclosed a gallery which ran round the house, was fifty-four feet. [Illustration: SEROMBO HUTS.] "Owing to this peculiar construction a desperate body of one hundred and fifty men might from the circular gallery sustain a protracted attack from a vastly superior foe, and probably repel it. "Ndega is a relative of Mirambo by marriage, and he soon quieted all uneasy minds by announcing that the famous man who was now advancing upon Serombo had just concluded a peace with the Arabs, and that therefore no trouble was to be apprehended from his visit, it being solely a friendly visit to his young relative. "Naturally we were all anxious to behold the 'Mars of Africa,' who since 1871 has made his name feared by both native and foreigner from Usui to Urori, and from Uvinza to Ugogo, a country embracing ninety thousand square miles; who, from the village chieftainship over Uyoweh, has made for himself a name as well known as that of Mtesa throughout the eastern half of equatorial Africa, a household word from Nyangwé to Zanzibar, and the theme of many a song of the bards of Unyamwezi, Ukimbu, Ukonongo, Uzinja, and Uvinza. "On the evening of our arrival at Serombo's we heard his Brown Besses--called by the natives Gumeh-Gumeh--announcing to all that the man with the dread name lay not far from our vicinity. "At dusk the huge drums of Serombo signalled silence for the town-criers, whose voices, preceded by the sound of iron bells, were presently heard crying out: "'Listen, O men of Serombo. Mirambo, the brother of Ndega, cometh in the morning. Be ye prepared, therefore, for his young men are hungry. Send your women to dig potatoes, dig potatoes. Mirambo cometh. Dig potatoes, potatoes, dig potatoes, to-morrow!' [Illustration: WAR-DRUM AND IDOL.] "At 10 A.M. the Brown Besses, heavily charged and fired off by hundreds, loudly heralded Mirambo's approach, and nearly all my Wangwana followed the inhabitants of Serombo outside to see the famous chieftain. Great war-drums and the shouts of admiring thousands proclaimed that he had entered the town, and soon little Mabruki, the chief of the tent-boys, and Kachéché, the detective, on whose intelligence I could rely, brought an interesting budget to me. [Illustration: A "RUGA-RUGA," ONE OF MIRAMBO'S PATRIOTS.] "Mabruki said: 'We have seen Mirambo. He has arrived. We have beheld the Ruga-Ruga, and there are many of them, and all are armed with Gumeh-Gumeh. About a hundred are clothed in crimson cloth and white shirts, like our Wangwana. Mirambo is not an old man.' "Kachéché said: 'Mirambo is not old, he is young: I must be older than he is. He is a very nice man, well dressed, quite like an Arab. He wears the turban, fez, and cloth coat of an Arab, and carries a scimitar. He also wears slippers, and his clothes under his coat are very white. I should say he has about a thousand and a half men with him, and they are all armed with muskets or double-barrelled guns. Mirambo has three young men carrying his guns for him. Truly, Mirambo is a great man!' "The shrill Lu-lu-lu's, prolonged and loud, were still maintained by the women, who entertained a great respect for the greatest king in Unyamwezi. "Presently Manwa Sera, the chief captain of the Wangwana, came to my hut, to introduce three young men--Ruga-Ruga (bandits), as we called them, but must do so no more, lest we give offence--handsomely dressed in fine red and blue cloth coats, and snowy white shirts, with ample turbans around their heads. They were confidential captains of Mirambo's body-guard. "'Mirambo sends his salaams to the white man,' said the principal of them. 'He hopes the white man is friendly to him, and that he does not share the prejudices of the Arabs, and believe Mirambo a bad man. If it is agreeable to the white man, will he send words of peace to Mirambo?' "'Tell Mirambo,' I replied, 'that I am eager to see him, and would be glad to shake hands with so great a man; and as I have made strong friendship with Mtesa, Rumanika, and all the kings along the road from Usoga to Unyamwezi, I shall be rejoiced to make strong friendship with Mirambo also. Tell him I hope he will come and see me as soon as he can.' "The next day Mirambo, having despatched a Ruga-Ruga--no, a patriot, I should have said--to announce his coming, appeared with about twenty of his principal men. [Illustration: HILLSIDE HOUSE IN MIRAMBO'S COUNTRY.] "I shook hands with him with fervor, which drew a smile from him as he said, 'The white man shakes hands like a strong friend.' "His person quite captivated me, for he was a thorough African _gentleman_ in appearance, very different from my conception of the terrible bandit who had struck his telling blows at native chiefs and Arabs with all the rapidity of a Frederick the Great environed by foes. "I entered the following notes in my journal on April 22, 1876: "'This day will be memorable to me for the visit of the famous Mirambo. He was the reverse of all my conceptions of the redoubtable chieftain, and the man I had styled the "terrible bandit." "'He is a man about five feet eleven inches in height, and about thirty-five years old, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh about him. A handsome, regular-featured, mild-voiced, soft-spoken man, with what one might call a "meek" demeanor, very generous and open-handed. The character was so different from that which I had attributed to him that for some time a suspicion clung to my mind that I was being imposed upon, but Arabs came forward who testified that this quiet-looking man was indeed Mirambo. I had expected to see something of the Mtesa type, a man whose exterior would proclaim his life and rank; but this unpresuming, mild-eyed man, of inoffensive, meek exterior, whose action was so calm, without a gesture, presented to the eye nothing of the Napoleonic genius which he has for five years displayed in the heart of Unyamwezi, to the injury of Arabs and commerce, and the doubling of the price of ivory. I said there was _nothing_; but I must except the eyes, which had the steady, calm gaze of a master. [Illustration: UNYAMWEZI CHIEF AND HIS WIFE.] "'During the conversation I had with him, he said he preferred boys or young men to accompany him to war; he never took middle-aged or old men, as they were sure to be troubled with wives or children, and did not fight half so well as young fellows who listened to his words. Said he, "They have sharper eyes, and their young limbs enable them to move with the ease of serpents or the rapidity of zebras, and a few words will give them the hearts of lions. In all my wars with the Arabs, it was an army of youths that gave me victory, boys without beards. Fifteen of my young men died one day because I said I must have a certain red cloth that was thrown down as a challenge. No, no; give me youths for war in the open field, and men for the stockaded village." "'"What was the cause of your war, Mirambo, with the Arabs?" I asked. "'"There was a good deal of cause. The Arabs got the big head" (proud), "and there was no talking with them. Mkasiwa of Unyanyembé lost his head too, and thought I was his vassal, whereas I was not. My father was king of Uyoweh, and I was his son. What right had Mkasiwa or the Arabs to say what I ought to do? But the war is now over--the Arabs know what I can do, and Mkasiwa knows it. We will not fight any more, but we will see who can do the best trade, and who is the smartest man. Any Arab or white man who would like to pass through my country is welcome. I will give him meat and drink, and a house, and no man shall hurt him."' "Mirambo retired, and in the evening I returned his visit with ten of the principal Wangwana. I found him in a bell-tent twenty feet high, and twenty-five feet in diameter, with his chiefs around him. "Manwa Sera was requested to seal our friendship by performing the ceremony of blood brotherhood between Mirambo and myself. Having caused us to sit fronting each other on a straw carpet, he made an incision in each of our right legs, from which he extracted blood, and, interchanging it, he exclaimed aloud: "'If either of you break this brotherhood now established between you, may the lion devour him, the serpent poison him, bitterness be in his food, his friends desert him, his gun burst in his hands and wound him, and everything that is bad do wrong to him until death.' "My new brother then gave me fifteen cloths to be distributed among my chiefs, while he would accept only three from me. But, not desirous of appearing illiberal, I presented him with a revolver and two hundred rounds of ammunition, and some small curiosities from England. Still ambitious to excel me in liberality, he charged five of his young men to proceed to Urambo, and to select three milch-cows with their calves, and three bullocks, to be driven to Ubagwé to meet me. He also gave me three guides to take me along the frontier of the predatory Watuta. [Illustration: SHIELD AND DRUM.] "On the morning of the 23d he accompanied me outside Serombo, where we parted on the very best terms with each other. An Arab in his company, named Sayid bin Mohammed, also presented me with a bar of Castile soap, a bag of pepper, and some saffron. A fine riding-ass, purchased from Sayid, was named Mirambo by me, because the Wangwana, who were also captivated by Mirambo's agreeable manners, insisted on it. "We halted on the 23d at Mayangira, seven miles and a half from Serombo, and on the 24th, after a protracted march of eleven miles south-southeast over flooded plains, arrived at Ukombeh. "Through similar flooded plains, with the water hip-deep in most places, and after crossing an important stream flowing west-southwest towards the Malagarazi, we arrived at Myonga's village, the capital of southern Masumbwa. [Illustration: COLOR-PARTY OF AN ENGLISH EXPEDITION IN AFRICA.] "This Myonga is the same valorous chief who robbed Colonel Grant as he was hurrying with an undisciplined caravan after Speke. (See Speke's Journal, page 159, for the following graphic letter: "'IN THE JUNGLES, NEAR MYONGA'S, _16th September, 1861_. "'MY DEAR SPEKE,--The caravan was attacked, plundered, and the men driven to the winds, while marching this morning into Myonga's country. "'Awaking at cock-crow, I roused the camp, all anxious to rejoin you; and while the loads were being packed, my attention was drawn to an angry discussion between the head men and seven or eight armed fellows sent by Sultan Myonga to insist on my putting up for the day in his village. They were summarily told that as _you_ had already made him a present, he need not expect a visit from _me_. Adhering, I doubt not, to their master's instructions, they officiously constituted themselves our guides till we chose to strike off their path, when, quickly heading our party, they stopped the way, planted their spears, and _dared_ our advance! "'This menace made us firmer in our determination, and we swept past the spears. After we had marched unmolested for some seven miles, a loud yelping from the woods excited our attention, and a sudden rush was made upon us by, say, two hundred men, who came down _seemingly_ in great glee. In an instant, at the caravan's centre, they fastened upon the poor porters. The struggle was short; and with the threat of an arrow or spear at their breasts, men were robbed of their cloths and ornaments, loads were yielded and run away with before resistance could be organized; only three men of a hundred stood by me; the others, whose only _thought_ was their lives, fled into the woods, where I went shouting for them. One man, little Rahan, stood with cocked gun, defending his load against five savages with uplifted spears. No one else could be seen. Two or three were reported killed, some were wounded. Beads, boxes, cloths, etc., lay strewed about the woods. In fact, I felt wrecked. My attempt to go and demand redress from the sultan was resisted, and, in utter despair, I seated myself among a mass of rascals jeering round me, and insolent after the success of the day. Several were dressed in the very cloths, etc., they had stolen from my men. "'In the afternoon about fifteen men and loads were brought me, with a message from the sultan, that the attack had been a _mistake_ of his subjects--that one man had had a hand cut off for it, and that all the property would be restored! "'Yours sincerely, "'J. A. GRANT.') "Age had not lessened the conceit of Myonga, increased his modesty, or moderated his cupidity. He asserted the rights and privileges of his royalty with a presumptuous voice and a stern brow. He demanded tribute! Twenty-five cloths. A gun and five fundo of beads! The Arabs, my friends, were requested to do the same! "'Impossible, Myonga!' I replied, yet struck with admiration at the unparalleled audacity of the man. "'People have been obliged to pay what I ask,' the old man said, with a cunning twinkle in his eyes. "'Perhaps,' I answered; 'but whether they have or not, I cannot pay you so much, and, what is more, I will not. As a sign that we pass through your country, I give you one cloth, and the Arabs shall only give you one cloth.' "Myonga blustered and stormed, begged and threatened, and some of his young men appeared to be getting vicious, when, rising, I informed him that to talk loudly was to act like a scolding woman, and that, when his elder should arrive at our camp, he would receive two cloths, one from me and one from the Arabs, as acknowledgment of his right to the country. "The drum of Myonga's village at once beat to arms, but the affair went no further, and the elder received the reasonable and just tribute of two cloths, with a gentle hint that it would be dangerous to intercept the expedition on the road when on the march, as the guns were loaded. [Illustration: MOUNTAINS ALONG THE ROUTE OF THE EXPEDITION.] "Phunze, chief of Mkumbiro, a village ten miles south by east from Myonga, and the chief of Ureweh, fourteen miles and a half from Phunze's, were equally bold in their demands, but they did not receive an inch of cloth; but neither of these three chiefs were half so extortionate as Ungomirwa, king of Ubagwé, a large town of three thousand people. "We met at Ubagwé an Arab trader _en route_ to Uganda, and he gave us a dismal tale of robbery and extortion practised on him by Ungomirwa. He had been compelled to pay one hundred and fifty cloths, five kegs, or fifty pounds, of gunpowder, five guns double-barrelled, and thirty-five pounds of beads, the whole being of the value of $625, or £125, for the privilege of passing unmolested through the district of Ubagwé. "When the chief came to see me, I said to him, "'Why is it, my friend, that your name goes about the country as being that of a bad man? How is it that this poor Arab has had to pay so much for going through Ubagwé? Is Ubagwé Unyamwezi, that Ungomirwa demands so much from the Arabs? The Arab brings cloths, powder, guns into Unyamwezi. If you rob him of his property, I must send letters to stop people coming here, then Ungomirwa will become poor, and have neither powder, guns, nor cloths to wear. What has Ungomirwa to say to his friend?' "'Ungomirwa,' replied he, 'does no more than Ureweh, Phunze, Myonga, Ndega, Urangwa, and Mankorongo--he takes what he can. If the white man thinks it is wrong, and will be my friend, I will return it all to the Arab.' "'Ungomirwa is good. Nay, do not return it all; retain one gun, five cloths, two fundo of beads, and one keg of powder; that will be plenty, and nothing but right. I have many Wanyamwezi with me, whom I have made good men. I have two from Ubagwé, and one man who was born at Phunze's. Let Ungomirwa call the Wanyamwezi, and ask them how the white man treats Wanyamwezi, and let him try to make them run away, and see what they will say. They will tell him that all white men are very good to those who are good.' "Ungomirwa called the Wanyamwezi to him, and asked them why they followed the white man to wander about the world, leaving their brothers and sisters. The question elicited the following reply: "'The white people know everything. They are better than the black people in heart. We have abundance to eat, plenty to wear, and silver for ourselves. All we give to the white man is our strength. We carry his goods for him, and he bestows a father's care on his black children. Let Ungomirwa make friends with the white man, and do as he says, and it will be good for the land of Unyamwezi.' "To whatever cause it was owing, Ungomirwa returned the Arab nearly all his property, and presented me with three bullocks; and during all the time that I was his guest at Ubagwé, he exhibited great friendship for me, and boasted of me to several Watuta visitors who came to see him during that time; indeed, I can hardly remember a more agreeable stay at any village in Africa than that which I made in Ubagwé. "Unyamwezi is troubled with a vast number of petty kings, whose paltriness and poverty have so augmented their pride that each of them employs more threats, and makes more demands, than Mtesa, emperor of Uganda. "The adage that 'Small things make base men proud' holds true in Africa as in other parts of the world. Sayid bin Sayf, one of the Arabs at Kafurro, begged me, as I valued my property and peace of mind, not to march through Unyamwezi to Ujiji, but to travel through Uhha. I attribute these words of Sayid's to a desire on his part to hear of my being mulcted by kings Khanza, Iwanda, and Kiti in the same proportion that he was. He confessed that he had paid to Kiti sixty cloths, to Iwanda sixty cloths, and to king Khanza one hundred and thirty-eight, which amounted in value to $516, and this grieved the gentle merchant's soul greatly. [Illustration: FASHIONABLE HAIR-DRESSING.] "On my former journey in search of Livingstone, I tested sufficiently the capacity of the chiefs of Uhha to absorb property, and I vowed then to give them a wide berth for all future time. Sayid's relation of his experiences, confirmed by Hamed Ibrahim, and my own reverses, indicated but too well the custom in vogue among the Wahha. So far, between Kibogora's capital and Ubagwé, I had only disbursed thirty cloths as gifts to nine kings of Unyamwezi, without greater annoyance than the trouble of having to reduce their demands by negotiation. "On the 4th of May, having received the milch-cows, calves, and bullocks from my new brother Mirambo, we marched in a south-southwest direction, skirting the territory of the Watuta, to Ruwinga, a village occupying a patch of cleared land, and ruled by a small chief who is a tributary to his dreaded neighbors. "The next day, in good order, we marched across a portion of the territory of the Watuta. No precaution was omitted to insure our being warned in time of the presence of the enemy, nor did we make any delay on the road, as a knowledge of their tactics of attack assured us that this was our only chance of avoiding a conflict with them. Msené, after a journey of twenty miles, was reached about 2 P.M., and the king, Mulagwa, received us with open arms. "The population of the three villages under Mulagwa probably numbers about thirty-five hundred. The king of the Watuta frequently visits Mulagwa's district; but his strongly-fenced villages and large number of muskets have been sufficient to check the intentions of the robbers, though atrocious acts are often committed upon the unwary. "Ten miles southwest of Msené is Kawangira, a district about ten miles square, governed by the chief Nyambu, a rival of Mulagwa. Relics of the ruthlessness and devastating attacks of the Watuta are visible between the two districts, and the once populous land is rapidly resuming its original appearance of a tenantless waste. [Illustration: ONE OF THE WATUTA.] "The next village, Nganda, ten miles southwest from Kawangira, was reached on the 9th of May. From this place, as far as Usenda (distant fourteen miles south-southwest), extended a plain, inundated with from two to five feet of water from the flooded Gombé, which rises about forty miles southeast of Unyanyembé. Where the Gombé meets with the Malagarazi, there is a spacious plain, which during each rainy season is converted into a lake. "We journeyed to the important village of Usagusi on the 12th, in a south-southwest direction. Like Serombo, Myonga's, Urangwa, Ubagwé, and Msené, it is strongly stockaded, and the chief, conscious that the safety of his principal village depends upon the care he bestows upon its defences, exacts heavy fines upon those of his people who manifest any reluctance to repair the stockade; and this vigilant prudence has hitherto baffled the wolflike marauders of Ugomba. "Twenty-five miles in a westerly direction through a depopulated land brought us to Zegi, in Uvinza, where we found a large caravan, under an Arab in the employ of Sayid bin Habib. Among these natives of Zanzibar was a man who had accompanied Cameron and Tippu-Tib to Utatera. Like other Munchausens of his race, he informed me upon oath that he had seen a ship upon a lake west of Utatera, manned by black Wazungu, or black Europeans! [Illustration: BOW, SPEARS, HATCHETS, AND ARROW-HEADS.] "Before reaching Zegi, we saw Sivué Lake, a body of water fed by the Sagala River; it is about seven miles wide by fourteen miles long. Through a broad bed, choked by reeds and grass and tropical plants, it empties into the Malagarazi River near Kiala. "Zegi swarmed with a reckless number of lawless men, and was not a comfortable place to dwell in. The conduct of these men was another curious illustration of how 'small things make base men proud.' Here were a number of youths suffering under that strange disease peculiar to vain youth in all lands, which Mirambo had called 'big head.' The manner in which they strutted about, their big looks and bold staring, their enormous feathered head-dresses and martial stride, were most offensive. Having adopted, from bravado, the name of Ruga-Ruga, they were compelled in honor to imitate the bandits' custom of smoking banghi (wild hemp), and my memory fails to remind me of any similar experience to the wild screaming and stormy sneezing, accompanied day and night by the monotonous droning of the one-string guitar (another accomplishment with the complete bandit) and the hiccoughing, snorting, and vocal extravagances which we had to bear in the village of Zegi. [Illustration: IDOLS SHELTERED FROM THE RAIN.] "For the next few days there were no incidents of importance, our march being pressed with as little delay as possible. At noon of the 27th of May the bright waters of the Tanganika broke upon the view, and compelled me to linger admiringly for a while, as I did on the day I first beheld them. By 3 P.M. we were in Ujiji. Muini Kheri, Mohammed bin Gharib, Sultan bin Kassim, and Khamis the Baluch greeted me kindly. Mohammed bin Sali was dead. Nothing was changed much, except the ever-changing mud tembés of the Arabs. The square or plaza where I met David Livingstone in November, 1871, is now occupied by large tembés. The house where he and I lived has long ago been burned down, and in its place there remain only a few embers and a hideous void. The lake expands with the same grand beauty before the eyes as we stand in the market-place. The opposite mountains of Goma have the same blue-black color, for they are everlasting, and the Liuché River continues its course as brown as ever just east and south of Ujiji. The surf is still as restless, and the sun as bright; the sky retains its glorious azure, and the palms all their beauty; but the grand old hero, whose presence once filled Ujiji with such absorbing interest for me, was gone!" [Illustration: ARAB HOUSE NEAR UJIJI.] "And here at Ujiji," said Frank, "we will pause for the present. We have read the first volume of Mr. Stanley's very interesting work, and this evening we'll begin reading the second. The story it contains is even more exciting than that which you have just heard; it carries us among new people and into new lands, and introduces us to a part of the continent unknown to Europeans until Mr. Stanley made his remarkable journey through it." A motion to adjourn was carried unanimously, and very soon the party was dispersed over the steamer's deck. Some of them looked around for Mr. Stanley, and were disappointed to hear that he had not been visible about the deck or saloon for several hours. [Illustration: WHISTLE, PILLOW, AND HATCHET.] CHAPTER VII. MR. STANLEY TAKES THE CHAIR.--DESCRIPTION OF UJIJI.--THE ARAB AND OTHER INHABITANTS.--MARKET SCENES.--LOCAL CURRENCY.--THE WAJIJI.--LAKE TANGANIKA.--STANLEY'S VOYAGE ON THE LAKE.--RISING OF THE WATERS.--THE LEGEND OF THE WELL.--HOW THE LAKE WAS FORMED.--DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.--SCENERY OF THE COAST.--MOUNTAINS WHERE THE SPIRITS DWELL.--SEEKING THE OUTLET OF THE LAKE.--THE LUKUGA RIVER.--EXPERIMENTS TO FIND A CURRENT.--CURIOUS HEAD-DRESSES.--RETURN TO UJIJI.--LENGTH AND EXTENT OF LAKE TANGANIKA. When the party assembled in the evening, Frank was not in the place where the others expected to find him; he was among the auditors, and his former seat was occupied by Mr. Stanley. The latter said he had been sleeping during most of the afternoon, and would atone for his indolence by telling the story of a portion of his work after the arrival of the expedition at Ujiji. [Illustration: HEAD OF UGUHHA WOMAN.] "As you have assembled to hear the story of the Dark Continent," said Mr. Stanley, as soon as all were seated, "you shall not be disappointed. You can imagine that I am reading from the book, and I will keep it in my hands to assist your imaginations." Without further preliminary the distinguished explorer plunged at once into the midst of his subject and carried his audience, as on the enchanted carpet of the "Arabian Nights," straight to the shores of Lake Tanganika. [Illustration: UJIJI, LOOKING NORTH FROM THE MARKET-PLACE, VIEWED FROM THE ROOF OF OUR TEMBÉ AT UJIJI. (_From a Photograph by Mr. Stanley._)] "The best view of Ujiji is to be obtained from the flat roof of one of the Arab tembés or houses. Here is a photograph presenting a view north from my tembé, which fronted the market-place. It embraces the square and conical huts of the Wangwana, Wanyamwezi, and Arab slaves, the Guinea palms from the golden-colored nuts of which the Wajiji obtain the palm-oil, the banana and plantain groves, with here and there a graceful papaw-tree rising among them, and, beyond, the dark-green woods which line the shore and are preserved for shade by the fishermen. "South of the market-place are the tembés of the Arabs, solid, spacious, flat-roofed structures, built of clay, with broad, cool verandas fronting the public roads. Palms and papaws, pomegranates and plantains, raise graceful branch and frond above them, in pleasing contrast to the gray-brown walls, enclosures, and houses. "The port of Ujiji is divided into two districts--Ugoy, occupied by the Arabs, and Kawelé, inhabited by the Wangwana, slaves, and natives. The market-place is in Ugoy, in an open space which has been lately contracted to about twelve hundred square yards. In 1871 it was nearly three thousand square yards. On the beach before the market-place are drawn up the huge Arab canoes, which, purchased in Goma on the western shore, have had their gunwales raised up with heavy teak planking. The largest canoe, belonging to Sheik Abdullah bin Sulieman, is forty-eight feet long, nine feet in the beam, and five feet high, with a poop for the nakhuda (captain), and a small forecastle. [Illustration: ARAB DHOW AT UJIJI.] "Sheik Abdullah, by assuming the air of an opulent ship-owner, has offended the vanity of the governor, Muini Kheri, who owns nine canoes. Abdullah christened his 'big ship' by some very proud name; the governor nicknamed it the _Lazy_. The Arabs and Wajiji, by the way, all give names to their canoes. "The hum and bustle of the market-place, filled with a miscellaneous concourse of representatives from many tribes, woke me up at early dawn. Curious to see the first market-place we had come to since leaving Kagehyi, I dressed myself and sauntered among the buyers and sellers and idlers. "Here we behold all the wealth of the Tanganika shores. The Wajiji, who are sharp, clever traders, having observed that the Wangwana purchased their supplies of sweet potatoes, yams, sugar-cane, ground-nuts, oil-nuts, palm-oil and palm-wine, butter, and pombé, to retail them at enormous profits to their countrymen, have raised their prices on some things a hundred per cent. over what they were when I was in Ujiji last. This has caused the Wangwana and slaves to groan in spirit, for the Arabs are unable to dole out to them rations in proportion to the prices now demanded. The governor, supplied by the Mutwaré of the lake district of Ujiji, will not interfere, though frequently implored to do so, and, consequently, there are frequent fights, when the Wangwana rush on the natives with clubs, in much the same manner as the apprentices of London used to rush to the rescue or succor of one of their bands. [Illustration: A NATIVE OF RUA, WHO WAS A VISITOR AT UJIJI.] "Except the Wajiji, who have become rich in cloths, the rural natives retain the primitive dress worn by the Wazinja and other tribes, a dressed goat-skin covering the loins, and hanging down to within six inches above the knees, with long depending tags of the same material. All these tribes are related to each other, and their language shows only slight differences in dialect. Moreover, many of those inhabiting the countries contiguous to Unyamwezi and Uganda have lost those special characteristics which distinguish the pure unmixed stock from the less favored and less refined types of Africans. "Uhha daily sends to the market of Ujiji its mtama, grain (millet), sesamum, beans, fowls, goats, and broad-tailed sheep, butter, and sometimes oxen; Urundi, its goats, sheep, oxen, butter, palm-oil and palm-nuts, fowls, bananas, and plantains; Uzigé--now and then only--its oxen and palm-oil; Uvira, its iron, in wire of all sizes, bracelets, and anklets; Ubwari, its cassava or manioc, dried, and enormous quantities of grain, Dogara or whitebait, and dried fish; Uvinza, its salt; Uguha, its goats and sheep, and grain, especially Indian corn; rural Wajiji bring their buttermilk, ground-nuts, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, bananas and plantains, yams, beans, vetches, garden herbs, melons, cucumbers, sugar-cane, palm-wine, palm-nuts, palm-oil, goats, sheep, bullocks, eggs, fowls, and earthenware; the lake-coast Wajiji bring their slaves, whitebait, fresh fish, ivory, baskets, nets, spears, bows and arrows; the Wangwana and Arab slaves bring fuel, ivory, wild fruit, eggs, rice, sugar-cane, and honey from the Ukaranga forest. [Illustration: DRESS AND TATTOOING OF A NATIVE OF UGUHHA.] "The currency employed consists of cloths, blue 'Kaniki,' white sheeting 'Merikani' from Massachusetts mills, striped or barred prints, or checks, blue or red, from Manchester, Muscat, or Cutch, and beads, principally 'Sofi,' which are like black-and-white clay-pipe stems broken into pieces half an inch long. One piece is called a _Masaro_, and is the lowest piece of currency that will purchase anything. The Sofi beads are strung in strings of twenty Masaro, which is then called a _Kheté_, and is sufficient to purchase rations for two days for a slave, but suffices the freeman or Mgwana but one day. The red beads, called Sami-sami, the Mutanda, small blue, brown, and white, will also readily be bartered in the market for provisions, but a discount will be charged on them, as the established and universal currency with all classes of natives attending the market is the Sofi. "The prices at the market of Ujiji in 1876 were as follows: Sheeting cloths of four yards long. Ivory per lb. 1 1 goat 2 1 sheep 1-1/2 12 fowls 1-1/2 1 bullock 10 60 lbs. of grain--Mtama 1 90 lbs. of grain--Indian corn 1 1/2-gal. potful of honey in the comb 1 1 slave boy between 10 and 13 years old 16 1 slave girl between 10 and 13 years old 50 to 80 1 slave woman between 18 and 30 years old 80 to 130 1 slave boy between 13 and 18 years old 16 to 50 1 slave man between 18 and 50 years old 10 to 50 "The country of Ujiji extends between the Liuché River, along the Tanganika, north to the Mshala River, which gives it a length of forty-five miles. The former river separates it from Ukaranga on the south, while the latter river acts as a boundary between it and Urundi. As Ujiji is said to border upon Uguru, a district of Uhha, it may be said to have a breadth of twenty miles. Thus the area of Ujiji is not above nine hundred square miles. The Mtemi, or king, is called Mgassa, who entertains a superstitious fear of the lake. His residence is in a valley among the mountains bordering upon Uguru, and he believes that in the hour he looks upon the lake he dies. "I should estimate the population of the country to be very fairly given at forty to the square mile, which will make it thirty-six thousand souls. The Liuché valley is comparatively populous, and the port of Ujiji--consisting of Ugoy and Kawelé districts--has alone a population of three thousand. Kigoma and Kasimbu are other districts patronized by Arabs and Wangwana. "The Wajiji are a brave tribe, and of very independent spirit, but not quarrelsome. When the moderate fee demanded by the Mutwaré of Ugoy, Kawelé, and Kasimbu is paid, the stranger has the liberty of settling in any part of the district; and, as an excellent understanding exists between the Mutwaré and the Arab governor, Muini Kheri, there is no fear of ill-usage. The Mgwana or the Mjiji applying to either of them is certain of receiving fair justice, and graver cases are submitted to an international commission of Arabs and Wajiji elders, because it is perfectly understood by both parties that many moneyed interests would be injured if open hostilities were commenced. "The Wajiji are the most expert canoe-men of all the tribes around the Tanganika. They have visited every country, and seem to know each headland, creek, bay, and river. Sometimes they meet with rough treatment, but they are as a rule so clever, wide-awake, prudent, commercially politic, and superior in tact, that only downright treachery can entrap them to death. They have so many friends also that they soon become informed of danger, and dangerous places are tabooed. [Illustration: CHARMS WORN BY THE WAJIJI.] "The governor of the Arab colony of Ujiji, having been an old friend, was, as may be supposed, courteous and hospitable to me, and Mohammed bin Gharib, who was so good to Livingstone between Marungu and Ujiji, as far as Manyema, did his best to show me friendly attention. Such luxuries as sweetmeats, wheaten bread, rice, and milk were supplied so freely by Muini Kheri and Sheik Mohammed that both Frank and myself began to increase rapidly in weight. "Judging from their rotundity of body, it may fairly be said that both the friends enjoy life. The governor is of vast girth, and Mohammed is nearly as large in the waist. The preceding governor, Mohammed bin Sali, was also of ample circumference, from which I conclude that the climate of Ujiji agrees with the Arab constitution. It certainly did not suit mine while I was with Livingstone, for I was punished with remittent and intermittent fever of such severe type and virulence that in three months I was reduced in weight to ninety-eight pounds. [Illustration: A RIVER FERRY-BOAT.] "Muini Kheri's whole wealth consists of about one hundred and twenty slaves, eighty guns, eighty frasilah of ivory, two tembés, or houses, a wheat and rice field, nine canoes with oars and sails, forty head of cattle, twenty goats, thirty bales of cloth, and twenty sacks of beads, three hundred and fifty pounds of brass wire, and two hundred pounds of iron wire, all of which, appraised in the Ujiji market, might perhaps realize $18,000. His friend Mohammed is probably worth $3000 only! Sultan bin Kassim may estimate the value of his property at $10,000; Abdullah bin Suliman, the owner of the _Great Eastern_ of Lake Tanganika, at $15,000. Other Arabs of Ujiji may be rated at from $100 to $3000. "Sheik Mohammed bin Gharib is the owner of the finest house. It is about one hundred feet long by twenty-five feet in width and fourteen feet in height. A broad veranda, ten feet wide and forty feet long, runs along a portion of the front, and affords ample space for the accommodation of his visitors on the luxurious carpets. The building is constructed of sun-dried brick plastered over neatly with clay. The great door is a credit to his carpenter, and his latticed windows are a marvel to the primitive native trader from Uhha or Uvinza. The courtyard behind the house contains the huts of the slaves, kitchens, and cow-house. [Illustration: HEADS OF NATIVES.] "There is a good deal of jealousy between the Arabs of Ujiji, which sometimes breaks out into bloodshed. When Sayid bin Habib enters Ujiji trouble is not far off. The son of Habib has a large number of slaves, and there are some fiery souls among them, who resent the least disparagement of their master. A bitter reproach is soon followed by a vengeful blow, and then the retainers and the chiefs of the Montagues and Capulets issue forth with clubs, spears, and guns, and Ujiji is all in an uproar, not to be quieted until the respective friends of the two rivals carry them bodily away to their houses. On Arabs, Wangwana, and slaves alike I saw the scars of feuds. [Illustration: THE WAZARAMO TRIBE.] "Life in Ujiji begins soon after dawn, and, except on moonlight nights, no one is abroad after sunset. With the Arabs--to whom years are as days to Europeans--it is a languid existence, mostly spent in gossip, the interchange of dignified visits, ceremonies of prayer, an hour or two of barter, and small household affairs. "There were no letters for either Frank or myself after our seventeen months' travels around and through the lake regions. From Kagehyi, on Lake Victoria, I had despatched messages to Sayid bin Salim, governor of Unyanyembé, praying him to send all letters addressed to me to Muini Kheri, governor of Ujiji, promising him a noble reward. Not that I was sure that I should pass by Ujiji, but I knew that, if I arrived at Nyangwé, I should be able to send a force of twenty men to Muini Kheri for my letters. Though Sayid bin Salim had over twelve months' time to comply with my moderate request, not a scrap or word of news or greeting refreshed us after the long blank interval! Both of us, having eagerly looked forward with certainty to receiving a bagful of letters, were therefore much disappointed. "As I was about to circumnavigate the Tanganika with my boat, and would probably be absent two or three months, I thought there might still be a chance of obtaining them before setting out westward, by despatching messengers to Unyanyembé. Announcing my intentions to the governor, I obtained a promise that he would collect other men, as he and several Arabs at Ujiji were also anxious to communicate with their friends. Manwa Sera therefore selected five of the most trustworthy men, the Arabs also selected five of their confidential slaves, and the ten men started for Unyanyembé on the 3d of June. "My five trustworthy men arrived at Unyanyembé within fifteen days, but from some cause they never returned to the expedition. We halted at Ujiji for seventy days after their departure, and when we turned our faces towards Nyangwé, we had given up all hopes of hearing from civilization. "Before departing on the voyage of circumnavigation of Lake Tanganika, many affairs had to be provided for, such as the well-being of the expedition during my absence, distribution of sufficient rations, provisioning for the cruise, the engagement of guides, etc. "The two guides I obtained for the lake were Para, who had accompanied Cameron in March and April, 1874, and Ruango, who accompanied Livingstone and myself in December, 1871, to the north end of Lake Tanganika. "The most interesting point connected with this lake was its outlet. Before starting from Zanzibar, I had heard that Cameron had discovered the outlet to Lake Tanganika in the Lukuga River, which ran through Uguha to the west, and was therefore an affluent of Livingstone's great river. "I made many inquiries among the Arabs and natives, but could learn nothing about an outlet of the lake. The guide who accompanied Cameron declared that no such outlet had been found while he was with that officer, and, furthermore, all the streams he knew of flowed into and not from Tanganika. All this testimony inspired me with the resolution to explore the phenomenon thoroughly, and to examine the entire coast minutely. At the same time, a suspicion that there was no present outlet to the Tanganika had crept into my mind, when I observed that three palm-trees, which had stood in the market-place of Ujiji in November, 1871, were now about one hundred feet in the lake, and that the sand beach over which Livingstone and I took our morning walks was over two hundred feet in the lake. "I asked of Muini Kheri and Sheik Mohammed if my impressions were not correct about the palm-trees, and they both replied readily in the affirmative. Muini Kheri said also, as corroborative of the increase of the Tanganika, that thirty years ago the Arabs were able to ford the channel between Bangwé Island and the mainland; that they then cultivated rice-fields three miles farther west than the present beach; that every year the Tanganika encroaches upon their shores and fields; and that they are compelled to move every five years farther inland. In my photograph of Ujiji, an inlet may be seen on a site which was dry land, occupied by fishing-nets and pasture-ground, in 1871. [Illustration: RAWLINSON MOUNTAINS, LAKE TANGANIKA.] "The Wajiji lake-traders and fishermen have an interesting legend respecting the origin of the Tanganika. Ruango, the veteran guide, who showed Livingstone and myself the Rusizi River in 1871, and whose version is confirmed by Para, the other guide, related it as follows: "'Years and years ago, where you see this great lake, was a wide plain, inhabited by many tribes and nations, who owned large herds of cattle and flocks of goats, just as you see Uhha to-day. "'On this plain there was a very large town, fenced round with poles strong and high. As was the custom in those days, the people of the town surrounded their houses with tall hedges of cane, enclosing courts, where their cattle and goats were herded at night from the wild beasts and from thieves. In one of these enclosures lived a man and his wife, who possessed a deep well, from which water bubbled up and supplied a beautiful little stream, at which the cattle of their neighbors slaked their thirst. "'Strange to say, this well contained countless fish, which supplied both the man and his wife with an abundant supply for their wants; but as their possession of these treasures depended upon the secrecy which they preserved respecting them, no one outside their family circle knew anything of them. A tradition was handed down for ages, through the family, from father to son, that on the day they showed the well to strangers they would be ruined and destroyed. "'One day, while the husband was absent, a stranger called at the house and talked so pleasantly that the wife forgot all about the tradition, and showed him the well. The man had never seen such things in his life, for there were no rivers in the neighborhood except that which was made by this fountain. His delight was very great, and he sat for some time watching the fish leaping and chasing each other, showing their white bellies and beautiful bright sides, and coming up to the surface and diving swiftly down to the bottom. He had never enjoyed such pleasure; but when one of the boldest of the fish came near to where he was sitting he suddenly put forth his hand to catch it. Ah, that was the end of all!--for the Muzimu, the spirit, was angry. And the world cracked asunder, the plain sank down and down and down--the bottom cannot now be reached by our longest lines--and the fountain overflowed and filled the great gap that was made by the earthquake, and now what do you see? The Tanganika! All the people of that great plain perished, and all the houses and fields and gardens, the herds of cattle and flocks of goats and sheep, were swallowed in the waters.' [Illustration: HEAD-DRESS AND HATCHET.] "I made many attempts to discover whether the Wajiji knew why the lake was called Tanganika. A rational definition I could not obtain until one day, while translating some English words into their language, I came to the word 'plain,' for which I obtained _nika_ as being the term in Kijiji. As Africans are accustomed to describe large bodies of water as being like plains, 'it spreads out like a plain,' I think that a satisfactory signification of the term has finally been obtained, in 'the plain-like lake.' [Illustration: BROTHER ROCKS.] "Westward from Ujiji the lake spreads to a distance of about thirty-five miles, where it is bounded by the lofty mountain range of Goma, and it is when looking northwest that one comprehends, as he follows that vague and indistinct mountain line, ever paling as it recedes, the full magnificence of this inland sea. The low island of Bangwé on the eastern side terminates the bay of Ujiji, which rounds with a crescent curve from the market-place towards it. "The saucy English-built boat which had made the acquaintance of all the bays and inlets of the Victoria Nyanza, and been borne on the shoulders of sturdy men across the plains and through the ravines of Unyoro, is about to explore the mountain barriers which enfold Lake Tanganika, for the discovery of some gap which lets out, or is supposed to let out, the surplus water of rivers which, from a dim and remote period, have been pouring into it from all sides. "She has a consort now, a lumbering, heavy, but stanch mate, a canoe cut out from an enormous teak-tree which once grew in some wooded gorge in the Goma Mountains. The canoe is called the _Meofu_, and is the property of Muini Kheri, Governor of Ujiji, who has kindly lent it to me. As he is my friend, he says he will not charge me anything for the loan. But the governor and I know each other pretty well, and I know that when I return from the voyage I shall have to make him a present. In Oriental and African lands, remuneration, hire, compensation, guerdon, and present are terms nearly related to one another. "The boat and her consort are ready on the 11th of June, 1876. The boat's crew have been most carefully selected. They are all young, agile, faithful creatures. Their names and ages are as follows: Uledi, the coxswain, 25 years; Saywa, his cousin, 17; Shumari, his brother, 18; Murabo, 20; Mpwapwa, 22; Marzouk, 23; Akida, 20; Mambu, 20; Wadi Baraka, 24; Zaidi Rufiji, 27; Matiko, 19. Two supernumeraries are the boy gun-bearers, Billali and Mabruki, 17 and 15 years respectively. After eighteen months' experience with them it has been decided by all that these are the elect of the expedition for boat-work, though they are by no means the champions of the march. But as they have only light loads, there has never been reason to complain of them. "There is much handshaking, many cries of 'Take care of yourselves,' and then both boat and canoe hoist sail, turning their heads along the coast to the south. "We followed along this coast to the southern extremity of the lake, examining every river with the greatest care, in the full determination of finding the outlet if any existed. Then we followed the western coast in the same way, examining the rivers and studying the picturesque shores, which were bounded in many places by lofty hills or mountains. Many of these hills are supposed to be the dwelling-places of spirits who have control over the lake in various ways. [Illustration: THE EXTREME SOUTHERN REACH OF LAKE TANGANIKA.] "That part of the western coast which extends from Mbeté or Mombeté, to the south, as far as the Rufuvu River, is sacred ground in the lore of the ancients of Urungu. Each crag and grove, each awful mountain brow and echoing gorge, has its solemn associations of spirits. Vague and indescribable beings, engendered by fear and intense superstition, govern the scene. Any accident that may befall, any untoward event or tragedy that may occur, before the sanctuaries of these unreal powers, is carefully treasured in the memories of the people with increased awe and dread of the Spirits of the Rocks. "Such associations cling to the strange tabular mounts or natural towers, called Mtombwa, of which a sketch is annexed. The height of these is about twelve hundred feet above the lake. They once formed parts of the plateau of Urungu, though now separated from it by the same agency which created the fathomless gulf of the Tanganika. [Illustration: MTOMBWA.] "Within a distance of two miles are three separate mounts, which bear a resemblance to one another. The first is called Mtombwa, the next Kateye, the third Kapembwa. Their three spirits are also closely akin to one another, for they all rule the wave and the wind, and dwell on summits. Kateye is, I believe, the son of Kapembwa, the Jupiter, and Mtombwa, the Juno, of Tanganika tradition. "As we row past, close to their base, we look up to admire the cliffy heights rising in terraces one above another; each terrace-ledge is marked by a thin line of scrubby bush. Beyond Kateye, the gray front of the paternal Kapembwa looms up with an extraordinary height and massive grandeur. "The peaks of Kungwé are probably from two thousand five hundred to three thousand feet above the lake. They are not only interesting from their singular appearance, but also as being a refuge for the last remaining families of the aborigines of Kawendi. On the topmost and most inaccessible heights dwells the remnant of the once powerful nation which in old times--so tradition relates--overran Uhha and Uvinza, and were a terror to the Wakalaganza. They cultivate the slopes of their strongholds, which amply repay them for their labor. Fuel is found in the gorges between the peaks, and means of defence are at hand in the huge rocks which they have piled up ready to repel the daring intruder. Their elders retain the traditions of the race whence they sprang; and in their charge are the Lares and Penates of old Kawendi--the Muzimu. In the home of the eagles they find a precarious existence, as a seed to reproduce another nation, or as a short respite before complete extermination. [Illustration: KUNGWÉ PEAKS. (_From a sketch near the entrance to the Luwulungu torrent bed._)] "The best view of this interesting clump of mountain heights is to be had off the mouth of the torrent Luwulungu. "Everywhere we went we could see that the lake was rising. In places where I had camped with Livingstone in 1871 there were now several feet of water, and the guides repeatedly called my attention to low islands and beaches that were now submerged. One of the most interesting points we visited was Lukuga Creek, where Cameron thought he discovered the outlet of the lake. We reached it on July 16th, and made a careful survey. "The mouth of the Lukuga, which was about two thousand five hundred yards wide, narrowed after a mile to eight hundred yards, and after another mile to four or five hundred yards. Upon rounding the point of land on which Mkampemba stands, and where there is a considerable tract under tillage, I observed that the water changed its color to a reddish brown, owing to the ferruginous conglomerate of which the low bluffs on either side are composed. This was also a proof to me that there was no outflowing river here. Clear water outflowing from the Tanganika, only two miles from the lake, ought never to be so deeply discolored. "Wherever there were indentations in the bluffs that banked it in, or a dip in the low, grass-covered _débris_ beneath, a growth of mateté, or water-cane, and papyrus filled up these bits of still water, but mid-channel was clear, and maintained a breadth of open white water ranging from ninety to four hundred and fifty yards. [Illustration: THE "HIGH PLACES" OF THE SPIRIT MTOMBWA: VIEW OF MTOMBWA URUNGU.] "Within an hour we arrived at the extremity of the open water, which had gradually been narrowed in width, by the increasing abundance of papyrus, from two hundred and fifty yards to forty yards. We ceased rowing, and gently glided up to the barrier of papyrus, which had now completely closed up the creek from bank to bank, like a luxuriant field of tall Indian corn. We sounded at the base of these reeds along a breadth of forty yards, and obtained from seven to eleven feet of water! With a portable level I attempted to ascertain a current; the level indicated none! Into a little pool, completely sheltered by the broadside of the boat, we threw a chip or two, and some sticks. In five minutes the chips had moved towards the reeds about a foot! We then crushed our way through about twenty yards of the papyrus, and came to impassable mud-banks, black as pitch, and seething with animal life. Returning to the boat, I asked four men to stand close together, and, mounting their shoulders with an oar for support, I endeavored, with a glass, to obtain a general view. I saw a broad belt, some two hundred and fifty or three hundred yards wide, of a papyrus-grown depression, lying east and west between gently-sloping banks, thinly covered with scrubby acacia. Here and there were pools of open water, and beyond were a few trees growing, as it seemed to me, right in the bed. I caused some of my men to attempt to cross from one bank to the other, but the muddy ooze was not sufficiently firm to bear the weight of a man. [Illustration: MOUNT MURUMBI, NEAR LUKUGA CREEK.] "I then cut a disk of wood a foot in diameter, drove a nail in, and folded cotton under its head. I then rove a cord five feet in length through this, suspending to one end an earthenware pot, with which I tried an experiment. Along the hedge of papyrus I measured one thousand feet with a tape-line, both ends of the track marked by a broad ribbon of sheeting tied to a papyrus reed. Then, proceeding to the eastern or lake end of the track, I dropped the earthenware pot, which, after filling, sank, and drew the wooden disk level with the water. I noted the chronometer instantly, while the boat was rowed away from the scene. The wind from the lake blew strong at the time. "The board floated from lakeward towards the papyrus eight hundred and twenty-two feet in one hour and forty seconds. "In the afternoon, wind calm and water tranquil, the disk floated in the opposite direction, or towards the lake, one hundred and fifty-nine feet in nineteen minutes and thirty seconds, which is at the rate of about six hundred feet in the hour. "This was of itself conclusive proof that there was no current at this date (July 16, 1876). Still I was curious to see the river flowing out. The next day, therefore, accompanied by the chief and fifteen men of the expedition, we started overland along the banks of this rush and mud choked depression for three or four miles. The trend of the several streams we passed was from northwest to southeast--that is, towards the lake. At Elwani village we came to the road from Monyi's, which is used by people proceeding to Unguvwa, Luwelezi, or Marungu, on the other side of the Lukuga. Two men from the village accompanied us to the Lukuga ford. When we reached the foot of the hill we first came to the dry bed of the Kibamba. In the rainy season this stream drains the eastern slopes of the Kiyanja ridge with a southeast trend. The grass-stalks, still lying down from the force of the water, lay with their tops pointing lakeward. "From the dry mud-bed of the Kibamba to the cane-grass-choked bed of Lukuga was but a step. Daring the wet season the Kibamba evidently overflowed broadly, and made its way among the mateté of the Lukuga. "We tramped on along a path leading over prostrate reeds and cane, and came at length to where the ground began to be moist. The reeds on either side of it rose to the height of ten or twelve feet, their tops interlacing, and the stalks, therefore, forming the sides of a narrow tunnel. The path sank here and there into ditchlike hollows filled with cool water from nine inches to three feet deep, with transverse dykes of mud raised above it at intervals. "Finally, after proceeding some two hundred yards, we came to the centre of this reed-covered depression--called by the natives "Mitwanzi"--and here the chief, trampling a wider space among the reeds, pointed out in triumph water indisputably flowing westward! The water felt cold, but it was only 68° Fahr., or 7° cooler than the Lukuga. "I am of the opinion, after taking all things into consideration, that Kahangwa Cape was, at a remote period, connected with Kungwé Cape on the east coast--that the Lukuga was the affluent of the lake as it stood then, that the lake was at that period at a much higher altitude than it is at present, that the northern half of the lake is of a later formation, and that, owing to the subsidence of that portion and the collapsing of the barrier or the Kahangwa Cape and Kungwé Cape ridge, the waters south emptied into that of the deep gulf north, and left the channel of the Lukuga to be employed as the bed of the affluents Kibamba and Lumba, or the eastern slope of the Kiyanja ridge, to feed the lake. But now that the extension of the profound bed--created by some great earthquake, which fractured and disparted the plateau of Uhha, Urundi, Ubembé, Goma, etc.--is on the eve of being filled up, the ancient affluent is about to resume its old duties of conveying the surplus waters of the Tanganika down into the valley of the Livingstone, and thence, along its majestic winding course, to the Atlantic Ocean. "At present there are only a few inches of mud-banks and a frail barrier of papyrus and reeds to interpose between the waters of the lake and its destiny, which it is now, year by year, steadily approaching. When the Tanganika has risen three feet higher there will be no surf at the mouth of the Lukuga, no sill of sand, no oozing mud-banks, no rush-covered old river-course, but the accumulated waters of over a hundred rivers will sweep through the ancient gap with the force of a cataclysm, bearing away on its flood all the deposits of organic _débris_ at present in the Lukuga Creek down the steep incline to swell the tribute due to the mighty Livingstone. "On the 21st of July we sailed from the mouth of the future outlet Lukuga to the Arab crossing-place near Kasengé Island. "The Waguha, along whose country we had voyaged for some days, are an unusually ceremonious people. They are the first specimens of those nations among whom we are destined to travel in our exploration of the western regions. [Illustration: UBUJWÉ HEAD DRESS.] [Illustration: UGUHA HEAD-DRESS.] "The art of the coiffeur is better known here than in any portion of Africa east of Lake Tanganika. The 'waterfall' and 'back-hair' styles are superb, and the constructions are fastened with carved wooden or iron pins. Full dress includes a semicircle of finely plaited hair over the forehead painted red, ears well ochred, the rest of the hair drawn up taut at the back of the head, overlaid and secured by a cross-shaped flat board, or with a skeleton-crown of iron; the head is then covered with a neatly tasselled and plaited grass-cloth, like a lady's breakfast-cap, to protect it from dust. In order to protect such an elaborate construction from being disordered, they carry a small head-rest of wood stuck in the girdle. [Illustration: VILLAGE SCENE--DWELLINGS AND GRAIN-HOUSES.] "Their mode of salutation is as follows: "A man appears before a party seated; he bends, takes up a handful of earth or sand with his right hand, and throws a little into his left--the left hand rubs the sand or earth over the right elbow and the right side of the stomach, while the right hand performs the same operation for the left parts of the body, the mouth meanwhile uttering rapidly words of salutation. To his inferiors, however, the new-comer slaps his hand several times, and after each slap lightly taps the region of his heart. [Illustration: A WOMAN OF UGUHA.] [Illustration: UHYEYA HEAD-DRESS.] "On the 28th of July we skirted the low land which lies at the foot of the western mountains, and by noon had arrived at the little cove in Masansi, near the Rubumba, or the Luvumba, River, at which Livingstone and I terminated our exploration of the northern shores of Lake Tanganika in 1871. I had thus circumnavigated Lake Tanganika from Ujiji up the eastern coast, along the northern head, and down the western coast as far as Rubumba River in 1871; and in June-July, 1876, had sailed south from Ujiji along the eastern coast to the extreme south end of the lake, round each inlet of the south, and up the western coast to Panza Point, in Ubwari, round the shores of Burton Gulf, and to Rubumba River. The north end of the lake was located by Livingstone in south latitude 3° 18'; the extreme south end I discovered to be in south latitude 8° 47', which gives it a length of three hundred and twenty-nine geographical miles. Its breadth varies from ten to forty-five miles, averaging about twenty-eight miles, and its superficial area covers a space of nine thousand two hundred and forty square miles. [Illustration: SPIRIT ISLAND, LAKE TANGANIKA.] "In mid-lake, I sounded, using a three-and-a-half-pound sounding-lead with one thousand two hundred and eighty feet of cord, and found no bottom. I devoted an hour to this work, and tried a second time a mile nearer the Urundi coast, with the same results--no bottom. The strain at such a great depth on the whip-cord was enormous, but we met with no accident. "On the 31st we arrived at Ujiji, after an absence of fifty-one days, during which time we had sailed without disaster or illness a distance of over eight hundred and ten miles. The entire coast-line of the Tanganika is about nine hundred and thirty miles. [Illustration: SKETCH NEAR UJIJI.] CHAPTER VIII. STANLEY CONTINUES THE READING.--BAD NEWS AT UJIJI.--SMALL-POX AND ITS RAVAGES.--DESERTIONS BY WHOLESALE.--DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.--CROSSING LAKE TANGANIKA.--TRAVELLERS' TROUBLES.--TERRIFYING RUMORS.--PEOPLE WEST OF THE LAKE.--SINGULAR HEAD-DRESSES.--CANNIBALISM.--DESCRIPTION OF AN AFRICAN VILLAGE.--APPEARANCE OF THE INHABITANTS.--IN MANYEMA.--STORY ABOUT LIVINGSTONE.--MANYEMA HOUSES.--DONKEYS AS CURIOSITIES.--KITETÉ AND HIS BEARD.--THE LUAMA AND THE LUALABA.--ON THE BANKS OF THE LIVINGSTONE. Mr. Stanley was heartily applauded as he paused at the end of what we have recorded in the previous chapter. Under the stimulus of the applause, and with a reassuring glance at his watch, he continued the story of his march through the Dark Continent, occasionally reading from the book, but for the greater portion of the time holding the volume closed in his hands. "The sky was of a stainless blue, and the slumbering lake faithfully reflected its exquisite tint, for not a breath of wind was astir to vex its surface. With groves of palms and the evergreen fig-trees on either hand, and before us a fringe of tall cane-grass along the shores, all juicy with verdure, the square tembés of Ugoy and the conical cotes of Kawelé, embowered by banana and plantain, we emerged into the bay of Ujiji from the channel of Bangwé. "The cheery view of the port lent strength to our arms. An animating boat-song was struck up, the sounds of which, carried far on the shore, announced that a proud, joyous crew was returning homeward. "Long-horned cattle are being driven to the water to drink; asses are galloping about, braying furiously; goats and sheep and dogs are wandering in the market-place--many familiar scenes recur to us as we press forward to the shore. "Our Wangwana hurry to the beach to welcome us. The usual congratulations follow--hand-shakings, smiles, and glad expressions. Frank, however, is pale and sickly; a muffler is round his neck, and he wears a greatcoat. He looks very different from the strong, hearty man to whom I gave the charge of the camp during my absence. In a few words he informs me of his sufferings from the fever of Ujiji. [Illustration: IN COUNCIL: THE COURTYARD OF OUR TEMBÉ AT UJIJI. (_From a Photograph by Mr. Stanley._)] "'I am so glad you have come, sir. I was beginning to feel very depressed. I have been down several times with severe attacks of the horrible fever. Yesterday is the first time I got up after seven days' weary illness, and people are dying round me so fast that I was beginning to think I must soon die too. Now I am all right, and shall soon get strong again.' [Illustration: CENTRAL AFRICAN GOAT.] "The news, when told to me in detail, was grievous. Five of our Wangwana were dead from small-pox; six others were seriously ill from the same cause. Among the Arab slaves, neither inoculated nor vaccinated, the mortality had been excessive from this fearful pest. "At Rosako, the second camp from Bagamoyo, I had foreseen some such event as this, and had vaccinated, as I had thought, all hands; but it transpired, on inquiry now, that there were several who had not responded to the call, through some silly prejudice against it. Five of those unvaccinated were dead, and five were ill, as also was one who had received the vaccine. When I examined the medicine-chest, I found the tubes broken and the lymph dried up. "The Arabs were dismayed at the pest and its dreadful havoc among their families and slaves. Every house was full of mourning and woe. There were no more agreeable visits and social converse; each kept himself in strict seclusion, fearful of being stricken with it. Khamis the Baluch was dead, his house was closed, and his friends were sorrowing. Mohammed bin Gharib had lost two children; Muini Kheri was lamenting the deaths of three children. The mortality was increasing; it was now from fifty to seventy-five daily among a population of about three thousand. Bitter were the complainings against the hot season and close atmosphere, and fervent the prayers for rain! "Frank had been assiduous in his assistance to our friends. He had elevated himself in their opinion by his devotion and sympathy, until sickness had laid its heavy hand on him. The Wangwana were now his sincere admirers, and the chiefs were his friends. Formerly, while ignorant of the language, he and they were, perhaps of necessity, mutually distant; they now fraternized warmly. "Our messengers had not returned with our letters from Unyanyembé, but, to escape the effects of the epidemic, it was necessary to move and resume our journey westward. The Wangwana were therefore ordered to prepare, and my last letters were written; but, though I hoped to be ready on the 17th to strike camp, I was attacked by a serious fever. This delayed me until the evening of the 25th. "When, on the morning of the 25th of August, the drum and bugle announced that our travels were to be resumed, I had cause to congratulate myself that I had foreseen that many desertions would take place, and that I was prepared in a measure for it by having discarded many superfluities. But I was not prepared to hear that thirty-eight men had deserted. Thirty-eight out of one hundred and seventy was a serious reduction of strength. I was also told by the chiefs of the expedition, who were almost beside themselves with fear, that this wholesale desertion threatened an entire and complete dissolution of our force; that many more would desert _en route_ to Kabogo, as the people were demoralized by the prospect of being eaten by Manyema cannibals. As neither Frank nor I relished the idea of being compelled to return to Zanzibar before we had obtained a view of the Lualaba, I mustered as many as would answer to their names; and out of these, selecting such as appeared unstable and flighty, I secured thirty-two, and surrounded our house with guards. [Illustration: M'SEHAZY HAVEN AND CAMP, AT THE MOUTH OF M'SEHAZY RIVER.] "After preparing the canoes and getting the boat ready, those who did not bear a good character for firmness and fidelity were conducted under guard to the transport canoes; the firm and faithful, and those believed to be so, were permitted to march on land with myself towards Kabogo Cape, or M'sehazy Creek, whence the crossing of the Tanganika was to be effected. Out of the one hundred and thirty-two men, of whom the expedition now consisted, only thirty were intrusted with guns, as my faith in the stability of the Wangwana was utterly destroyed, despite their protestations to the contrary. I could afford to lose weak, fearful, and unworthy men; but I could not afford to lose one gun. Though we had such a show of strength left, I was only too conscious that there were barely forty reliable and effective in a crisis, or in the presence of danger; the rest were merely useful as bearers of burdens, or porters. "When we resumed our journey the second day from Ukaranga, three more were missing, which swelled the number of desertions to forty-one, and reduced our force to one hundred and twenty-nine. After we had crossed the Tanganika and arrived in Uguha, two more disappeared, one of whom was young Kalulu, whom I had taken to England and the United States, and whom I had placed in an English school for eighteen months. "Induced to do so by the hope that I should secure their attachment to the cause of the expedition, I had purchased from Sultan bin Kassim six bales of cloth at an enormous price, £350, and had distributed them all among the people gratuitously. This wholesale desertion, at the very period when their services were about to be most needed, was my reward! The desertion and faithless conduct of Kalulu did not, as may be imagined, augment my hopes, or increase my faith in the fidelity of my people. But it determined me to recover some of the deserters. Francis Pocock and the detective of the expedition, the ever faithful and gallant Kachéché, were therefore sent back with a squad to Ujiji, with instructions how to act; and one night Kachéché pounced upon six fellows, who, after a hard and tough resistance, were secured; and after his return to Uguha with these he successfully recovered the runaway Kalulu on Kasengé Island. These seven, along with a few others arrested in the act of desertion, received merited punishments, which put an end to misconduct and faithlessness, and prevented the wreck of the expedition. "It must not be supposed that I was more unfortunate than other travellers; for to the faithlessness of his people may be attributed principally the long wanderings of poor Livingstone. Cameron also lost a great number at Unyanyembé, as well as at Ujiji. Experience had taught me on my first journey to Central Africa that Wangwana would desert at every opportunity, especially in the vicinity of the Arab depots. It was to lessen these opportunities for desertion that I had left the Unyanyembé road, and struck through Ituru and Iramba; and though my losses in men were great from famine, the ferocity of the natives, and sickness, they did not amount to half of what they certainly would have been had I touched at Unyanyembé. By adopting this route, despite the calamities that we were subjected to for a short season, I had gained time, and opened new countries hitherto unexplored. "Unless the traveller in Africa exerts himself to keep his force intact, he cannot hope to perform satisfactory service. If he relaxes his watchfulness, it is instantly taken advantage of by the weak-minded and the indolent. Livingstone lost at least six years of time, and finally his life, by permitting his people to desert. If a follower left his service, he even permitted him to remain in the same village with him, without attempting to reclaim him, or to compel that service which he had bound himself to render at Zanzibar. The consequence of this excessive mildness was that he was left at last with only seven men, out of nearly seventy. His noble character has won from us a tribute of affection and esteem, but it has had no lasting good effect on the African. At the same time, over-severity is as bad as over-gentleness in dealing with these men. What is required is pure, simple justice between man and man. [Illustration: HUTS AND STORE-HOUSE.] "The general infidelity and instability of the Wangwana arises, in great part, from their weak minds becoming a prey to terror of imaginary dangers. Thus, the Johanna men deserted Livingstone because they heard the terrible Mafitté were in the way; my runaways of Ujiji fled from the danger of being eaten by the Manyema. "The slaves of Sungoro, the coast trader at Kagehyi, Usukuma, informed my people that Lake Victoria spread as far as the Salt Sea, that it had no end, and that the people on its shores loved the flesh of man better than that of goats. This foolish report made it a most difficult matter to man the exploring boat, and over a hundred swore by Allah that they knew nothing of rowing. "A similar scene took place when about to circumnavigate the Tanganika, for the Arab slaves had spread such reports of Muzimus, hobgoblins, fiery meteors, terrible spirits, such as Kabogo, Katavi, Kateye, and Wanpembé, that the teeth of Wanyamwezi and Wangwana chattered with fright. But no reports exercised such a terrible effect on their weak minds as the report of the Manyema cannibals; none were so greedily listened to, none more readily believed. "The path which traders and their caravans follow to Manyema begins at Mtowa, in Uguha, and, continuing south a few miles over a series of hills, descends into the plain of the Rugumba River about half-way between the Lukuga River and the traders' crossing-place. "The conduct of the first natives to whom we were introduced pleased us all. They showed themselves in a very amiable light, sold their corn cheaply and without fuss, behaved themselves decently and with propriety, though their principal men, entertaining very strange ideas of the white men, carefully concealed themselves from view, and refused to be tempted to expose themselves within view or hearing of us. [Illustration: SUB-CHIEF, WEST OF LAKE TANGANIKA.] "Their doubts of our character were reported to us by a friendly young Arab as follows: 'Kassanga, chief of Ruanda, says, "How can the white men be good when they come for no trade, whose feet one never sees, who always go covered from head to foot with clothes? Do not tell me they are good and friendly. There is something very mysterious about them; perhaps wicked. Probably they are magicians; at any rate, it is better to leave them alone, and to keep close until they are gone."' "From Ruanda, where we halted only for a day, we began in earnest the journey to Manyema, thankful that the Tanganika was safely crossed, and that the expedition had lost no more of its strength. "On the third day, after gradually ascending to a height of eight hundred feet above the lake, across a series of low hilly ridges and scantily wooded valleys, which abound with buffalo, we reached the crest of a range which divides the tributaries of the Lualaba from those of Lake Tanganika. This range also serves as a boundary between Uguha and Ubujwé, a country adjoining the former northwesterly. The western portions of Uguha, and southeastern Ubujwé, are remarkable for their forests of fruit-trees, of which there are several varieties, called the Masuku, Mbembu (or wood-apple), Singwé (wild African damson), the Matonga (or nux-vomica), custard-apple, etc. A large quantity of honey was also obtained; indeed, an army might subsist for many weeks in this forest on the various luscious fruits it contains. Our people feasted on them, as also on the honey and buffalo meat which I was fortunate in obtaining. [Illustration: HEADS OF MEN OF MANYEMA.] "Our acquaintance with the Wabujwé commenced at Lambo, or Mulolwa's, situated at the confluence of the Rugumba with the Rubumba. In these people we first saw the mild, amiable, unsophisticated innocence of this part of Central Africa, and their behavior was exactly the reverse of the wild, ferocious, cannibalistic races the Arabs had described to us. "From our experience of them, the natives of Rua, Uguha, and Ubujwé appear to be the _élite_ of the hair-dressed fashionables of Africa. Hair-dressing is, indeed, carried to an absurd perfection throughout all this region, and among the various styles I have seen, some are surpassing in taste and neatness, and almost pathetic from the carefulness with which poor, wild nature has done its best to decorate itself. [Illustration: NATIVES OF UBUJWÉ.] "The Waguha and Wabujwé, among other characteristics, are very partial to the arts of sculpture and turning. They carve statues in wood, which they set up in their villages. Their house doors often exhibit carvings resembling the human face; and the trees in the forest between the two countries frequently present specimens of their ingenuity in this art. Some have also been seen to wear wooden medals, whereon a rough caricature of a man's features was represented. At every village in Ubujwé excellent wooden bowls and basins of a very light wood (Rubiaceæ), painted red, are offered for sale. "Beyond Kundi our journey lay across chains of hills, of a conical or rounded form, which enclosed many basins or valleys. While the Rugumba, or Rubumba, flows northwesterly to the east of Kundi, as far as Kizambala on the Luama River, we were daily, sometimes hourly, fording or crossing the tributaries of the Luama. [Illustration: A NATIVE OF UHYEYA.] "Adjoining Ubujwé is Uhyeya, inhabited by a tribe who are decidedly a scale lower in humanity than their ingenious neighbors. What little merit they possess seems to have been derived from commerce with the Wabujwé. The Wahyeya are also partial to ochre, black paints, and a composition of black mud, which they mould into the form of a plate, and attach to the back part of the head. Their upper teeth are filed, 'out of regard to custom,' they say, and not from any taste for human flesh. "When questioned as to whether it was their custom to eat of the flesh of people slain in battle, they were positive in their denial, and protested great repugnance to such a diet, though they eat the flesh of all animals except that of dogs. "Simple and dirt-loving as these poor people were, they were admirable for the readiness with which they supplied all our wants, voluntarily offering themselves, moreover, as guides to lead us to Uvinza, the next country we had to traverse. "Uvinza now seems to be nothing more than a name of a small district which occupies a small basin of some few miles square. At a former period it was very populous, as the many ruined villages we passed through proved. The slave-traders, when not manfully resisted, leave broad traces wherever they go. [Illustration: ONE OF THE WAHYEYA OF UHOMBO. (BACK VIEW.)] "A very long march from Kagongwé in Uvinza brought us to the pleasant basin of Uhombo, remarkable for its fertility, its groves of Guinea-palms, and its beauty. This basin is about six miles square, but within this space there is scarcely a two-acre plot of level ground to be seen. The whole forms a picture of hilltops, slopes, valleys, hollows, and intersecting ridges in happy diversity. Myriads of cool, clear streams course through, in time united by the Lubangi into a pretty little river, flowing westerly to the Luama. It was the most delightful spot that we had seen. As the people were amiable, and disposed to trade, we had soon an abundance of palm-butter for cooking, sugar-cane, fine goats and fat chickens, sweet potatoes, beans, pease, nuts, and manioc, millet and other grain for flour, ripe bananas for dessert, plantain and palm wines for cheer, and an abundance of soft, cool, clear water to drink! [Illustration: A VALLEY AMONG THE HILLS.] "Subsequently we had many such pleasant experiences; but as it was the first, it deserves a more detailed description. "Travellers from Africa have often written about African villages, yet I am sure few of those at home have ever comprehended the reality. I now propose to lay it before them in this sketch of a village in the district of Uhombo. The village consists of a number of low, conical grass huts, ranged round a circular common, in the centre of which are three or four fig-trees, kept for the double purpose of supplying shade to the community, and bark-cloth to the chief. The doorways to the huts are very low, scarcely thirty inches high. The common fenced round by the grass huts shows plainly the ochreous color of the soil, and it is so well trodden that not a grass blade thrives upon it. [Illustration: GOING A-FISHING.] "On presenting myself in the common, I attracted out of doors the owners and ordinary inhabitants of each hut, until I found myself the centre of quite a promiscuous population of men, women, children, and infants. Though I had appeared here for the purpose of studying the people of Uhombo, and making a treaty of friendship with the chief, the villagers seemed to think I had come merely to make a free exhibition of myself as some natural monstrosity. "I saw before me over a hundred beings of the most degraded, unpresentable type it is possible to conceive, and though I knew quite well that some thousands of years ago the beginning of this wretched humanity and myself were one and the same, a sneaking disinclination to believe it possessed me strongly, and I would even now willingly subscribe some small amount of silver money for him who could but assist me to controvert the discreditable fact. "But common-sense tells me not to take into undue consideration their squalor, their ugliness, or nakedness, but to gauge their true position among the human race by taking a view of the cultivated fields and gardens of Uhombo, and I am compelled to admit that these debased specimens of humanity only plant and sow such vegetables and grain as I myself should cultivate were I compelled to provide for my own sustenance. I see, too, that their huts, though of grass, are almost as well made as the materials will permit, and, indeed, I have often slept in worse. Speak with them in their own dialect of the law of _meum_ and _tuum_, and it will soon appear that they are intelligent enough upon that point. Moreover, the muscles, tissues, and fibres of their bodies, and all the organs of sight, hearing, smell, or motion, are as well developed as in us. Only in taste and judgment, based upon larger experience, in the power of expression, in morals and intellectual culture, are we superior. "I strive, therefore, to interest myself in my gross and rudely-shaped brothers and sisters. Almost bursting into a laugh at the absurdity, I turn towards an individual whose age marks him out as one to whom respect is due, and say to him, after the common manner of greeting: "My brother, sit you down by me on this mat, and let us be friendly and sociable and as I say it I thrust into his wide-open hand twenty cowries, the currency of the land. One look at his hand as he extended it, made me think I could carve a better-looking hand out of a piece of rhinoceros-hide. "While speaking I look at his face, which is like an ugly and extravagant mask, clumsily manufactured from some strange, dark-brown, coarse material. The lips proved the thickness of skin which nature had endowed him with, and by the obstinacy with which they refused to meet each other the form of the mouth was but ill-defined, though capacious and garnished with its full complement of well-preserved teeth. "His nose was so flat that I inquired in a perfectly innocent manner as to the reason for such a feature. [Illustration: VILLAGE FORGE AND IDOL.] "'Ah,' said he, with a sly laugh, 'it is the fault of my mother, who, when I was young, bound me too tight to her back.' "His hair had been compelled to obey the capricious fashion of his country, and was therefore worked up into furrows and ridges and central cones, bearing a curious resemblance to the formation of the land around Uhombo. I wonder if the art grew by perceiving nature's fashion and mould of his country? "Descending from the face, which, crude, large-featured, rough-hewn as it was, bore witness to the possession of much sly humor and a kindly disposition, my eyes fastened on his naked body. Through the ochreous daubs I detected strange freaks of pricking on it, circles and squares and crosses, and traced with wonder the many hard lines and puckers created by age, weather, ill-usage, and rude keeping. "His feet were monstrous abortions, with soles as hard as hoofs, and his legs, as high up as the knees, were plastered with successive strata of dirt; his loin-cover or the queer 'girding tackle' need not be described. They were absolutely appalling to good taste, and the most ragged British beggar or Neapolitan lazzarone is sumptuously, nay, regally, clothed in comparison to this 'king' in Uhombo. "If the old chief appeared so unprepossessing, how can I paint without offence my humbler brothers and sisters who stood round us? As I looked at the array of faces, I could only comment to myself--ugly--uglier--ugliest. "And what shall I say of the hideous and queer appendages that they wear about their waists; the tags of monkey-skin, and bits of gorilla-bone, goat-horn, shells--strange tags to stranger tackle? and of the things around their necks--brain of mice, skin of viper, 'adder's fork, and blind worm's sting?' And how strangely they smell, all these queer, manlike creatures who stand regarding me! Not silently; on the contrary, there is a loud interchange of comments upon the white's appearance; a manifestation of broad interest to know whence I come, whither I am going, and what is my business. And no sooner are the questions asked than they are replied to by such as pretend to know. The replies were followed by long-drawn ejaculations of 'Wa-a-a-antu!' ('Men!') 'Eha-a, and these are men!' "Now imagine this! While we whites are loftily disputing among ourselves as to whether the beings before us are human, here were these creatures actually expressing strong doubts as to whether we whites are men! [Illustration: READY FOR FIGHTING.] "A dead silence prevailed for a short time, during which all the females dropped their lower jaws far down, and then cried out again 'Wa-a-a-a-a-antu!' ('Men!') The lower jaws, indeed, dropped so low that, when, in a posture of reflection, they put their hands up to their chins, it really looked as if they had done so to lift the jaws up to their proper place and to sustain them there. And in that position they pondered upon the fact that there were men 'white all over' in this queer, queer world! "The open mouths gave one a chance to note the healthy state and ruby color of the tongues, palates, and gums, and, above all, the admirable order and brilliant whiteness of each set of teeth. "'Great events from trivial causes spring'--and while I was trying to calculate how many Kubaba (measure of two pounds) of millet-seed would be requisite to fill all these hutch-oven mouths, and how many cowries would be required to pay for such a large quantity of millet, and wondering at the antics of the juveniles of the population, whose uncontainable, irrepressible wonder seemed to find its natural expression in hopping on one leg, thrusting their right thumbs into their mouths to repress the rising scream, and slapping their thighs to express or give emphasis to what was speechless--while thus engaged, and just thinking it was time to depart, it happened that one of the youthful innocents already described, more restless than his brothers, stumbled across a long, heavy pole which was leaning insecurely against one of the trees. The pole fell, striking one of my men severely on the head. And all at once there went up from the women a genuine and unaffected cry of pity, and their faces expressed so lively a sense of tender sympathy with the wounded man, that my heart, keener than my eyes, saw, through the disguise of filth, nakedness, and ochre, the human heart beating for another's suffering, and I then recognized and hailed them as indeed my own poor and degraded sisters. "Under the new light which had dawned on me, I reflected that I had done some wrong to my dusky relatives, and that they might have been described less harshly, and introduced to the world with less disdain. "Before I quitted the village they made me still more regret my former haughty feelings, for the chief and his subjects loaded my men with bounties of bananas, chickens, Indian corn, and malafu (palm-wine), and escorted me respectfully far beyond the precincts of the village and their fields, parting from me at last with the assurance that, should I ever happen to return by their country, they would endeavor to make my second visit to Uhombo much more agreeable than my first had been. "On the 5th of October our march from Uhombo brought us to the frontier village of Manyema, which is called Riba-Riba. It is noteworthy as the starting-point of another order of African architecture. The conical style of hut is exchanged for the square hut with more gradually-sloping roof, wattled, and sometimes neatly plastered with mud; especially those in Manyema. Here, too, the thin-bodied and long-limbed goat, to which we had been accustomed, gave place to the short-legged, large bodied, and capacious-uddered variety of Manyema. The gray parrots with crimson tails here also first began to abound, and the hoarse growl of the fierce and shy 'soko' (gorilla?) was first heard. "From the day we cross the watershed that divides the affluents of the Tanganika from the head-waters of the Luama, there is observed a gradual increase in the splendor of Nature. By slow degrees she exhibits to us, as we journey westward, her rarest beauties, her wealth, and all the profligacy of her vegetation. In the forests of Miketo, and on the western slopes of the Goma Mountains, she scatters with liberal hand her luxuries of fruits, and along the banks of streams we see revealed the wild profusion of her bounties. "As we increase the distance from the Tanganika we find the land disposed in graceful lines and curves; ridges heave up, separating valley from valley, hills lift their heads in the midst of the basins and mountain-ranges, at greater distances apart, bound wide prospects, wherein the lesser hill-chains, albeit of dignified proportions, appear but as agreeable diversities of scenery. "Over the whole, Nature has flung a robe of verdure of the most fervid tints. She has bidden the mountains loose their streamlets, has commanded the hills and ridges to bloom, filled the valleys with vegetation breathing perfume; for the rocks she has woven garlands of creepers, and the stems of trees she has draped with moss; and sterility she has banished from her domain. "Yet Nature has not produced a soft, velvety, smiling England in the midst of Africa. Far from it. She is here too robust and prolific. Her grasses are coarse, and wound like knives and needles; her reeds are tough and tall as bamboos; her creepers and convolvuli are of cable thickness and length; her thorns are books of steel; her trees shoot up to a height of a hundred feet. We find no pleasure in straying in search of wild-flowers, and game is left undisturbed, because of the difficulty of moving about, for, once the path is left, we find ourselves over head among thick, tough, unyielding, lacerating grass. "At Manyema the beauty of Nature becomes terrible, and in the expression of her powers she is awful. The language of Swahili has words to paint her in every mood. English, rich as it is, is found insufficient. In the former we have the word Pori for a forest, an ordinary thickly-wooded tract; but for the forests of Manyema it has four special words--Mohuro, Mwitu, Mtambani, and Msitu. For Mohuro we might employ the words jungly forest; for Mwitu, dense woods; but for Msitu and Mtambani we have no single equivalent, nor could we express their full meaning without a series of epithets ending with 'tangled jungle' or 'impervious underwood, in the midst of a dense forest'--for such is in reality the nature of a Manyema Msitu. "I am of opinion that Manyema owes its fertility to the mountains west of the Tanganika, which by their altitude suddenly cool and liquefy the vapors driven over their tops by the southeast monsoon; for while Uguha west was robed in green, its lake front was black with the ashes of burned grass. "We left Riba-Riba's old chief, and his numerous progeny of boys and girls, and his wonderful subjects, encamped on their mountain-top, and journeyed on with rapid pace through tall forests, and along the crests of wooded ridges, down into the depths of gloomy dingles, and up again to daylight into view of sweeping circles of bearded ridges and solemn woods, to Ka-Bambarré. [Illustration: AFRICAN OWLS.] "Even though this place had no other associations, it would be attractive and alluring for its innocent wildness; but, associated as it is with Livingstone's sufferings, and that self-sacrificing life he led here, I needed only to hear from Mwana Ngoy, son of Mwana Kusu,[7] 'Yes, this is the place where the old white man stopped for many moons,' to make up my mind to halt. [7] Mwana, _lord_; Kusu, _parrot_. [Illustration: A VILLAGE IN MANYEMA.] "'Ah! he lived here, did he?' "'Yes.' "By this time the population of Ka-Bambarré, seeing their chief in conversation with the white stranger, had drawn round us under a palm-tree, and mats were spread for us to seat ourselves. "'Did you know the old white man? Was he your father?' "'He was not my father; but I knew him well.' "'Eh, do you hear that?' he asked his people. 'He says he knew him. Was he not a good man?' "'Yes; very good.' "'You say well. He was good to me, and he saved me from the Arabs many a time. The Arabs are hard men, and often he would step between them and me when they were hard on me. He was a good man, and my children were fond of him. I hear he is dead?' "'Yes, he is dead.' "'Where has he gone to?' "'Above, my friend,' said I, pointing to the sky. "'Ah,' said he, breathlessly, and looking up, 'did he come from above?' "'No; but good men like him go above when they die.' "We had many conversations about him. The sons showed me the house he had lived in for a long time, when prevented from further wandering by the ulcers in his feet. In the village his memory is cherished, and will be cherished forever. "It was strange what a sudden improvement in the physiognomy of the native had occurred. In the district of Uhombo we had seen a truly debased negro type. Here we saw people of the Ethiopic negro type, worthy to rank next the more refined Waganda. Mwana Ngoy himself was nothing very remarkable. Age had deprived him of his good looks; but there were about him some exceedingly pretty women, with winsome ways about them that were quite charming. [Illustration: A YOUTH OF EAST MAMYEMA.] [Illustration: A MANYEMA ADULT.] "Mwana Ngoy, I suppose, is one of the vainest of vain men. I fancy I can see him now, strutting about his village with his sceptral staff, an amplitude of grass-cloth about him, which, when measured, gives exactly twenty-four square yards, drawn in double folds about his waist, all tags, tassels, and fringes, and painted in various colors, bronze and black and white and yellow, and on his head a plumy head-dress. [Illustration: THE VALLEY OF MABARO.] "What charms lurk in feathers! From the grand British dowager down to Mwana Ngoy of Ka-Bambarré, all admit the fascination of feathers, whether plucked from ostriches or barn-door fowl. "Mwana Ngoy's plumes were the tribute of the village chanticleers, and his vanity was so excited at the rustle of his feathered crest that he protruded his stomach to such a distance that his head was many degrees from the perpendicular. "On the 10th of October we arrived at Kizambala, presided over by another chief called Mwana Ngoy, a relative of him of Ka-Bambarré. "Up to this date we had seen some twenty villages, and probably four thousand natives, of Manyema, and may therefore be permitted some generalizations. "The Manyema, then, have several noteworthy peculiarities. Their arms are a short sword scabbarded with wood, to which are hung small brass and iron bells, a light, beautifully balanced spear--probably, next to the spear of Uganda, the most perfect in the world. Their shields were veritable wooden doors. Their dress consisted of a narrow apron of antelope-skin, or finely-made grass-cloth. They wore knobs, cones, and patches of mud attached to their beards, back hair, and behind the ears. Old Mwana Ngoy had rolled his beard in a ball of dark mud; his children wore their hair in braids, with mud fringes. His drummer had a great crescent-shaped patch of mud at the back of the head. At Kizambala the natives had horns and cones of mud on the tops of their heads. Others, more ambitious, covered the entire head with a crown of mud. "The women, blessed with an abundance of hair, manufactured it with a stiffening of light cane into a bonnet-shaped head-dress, allowing the back hair to flow down to the waist in masses of ringlets. They seemed to do all the work of life, for at all hours they might be seen, with their large wicker baskets behind them, setting out for the rivers or creeks to catch fish, or returning with their fuel baskets strapped on across their foreheads. [Illustration: A YOUNG WOMAN OF EAST MANYEMA.] "Their villages consist of one or more broad streets, from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet wide, flanked by low, square huts, arranged in tolerably straight lines, and generally situated on swells of land, to secure rapid drainage. At the end of one of these streets is the council and gossip house, overlooking the length of the avenue. In the centre is a platform of tamped clay, with a heavy tree-trunk sunk into it, and in the wood have been scooped out a number of troughs, so that several women may pound grain at once. It is a substitute for the village mill. "The houses are separated into two or more apartments, and on account of the compact nature of the clay and tamped floor are easily kept clean. The roofs are slimy with the reek of smoke, as though they had been painted with coal-tar. The household chattels or furniture are limited to food-baskets, earthenware pots, an assortment of wickerwork dishes, the family shields, spears, knives, swords, and tools, and the fish-baskets lying outside. [Illustration: VILLAGE SCENE IN SOUTHEAST MANYEMA.] "They are tolerably hospitable, and permit strangers the free use of their dwellings. The bananas and plantains are very luxuriant, while the Guinea palms supply the people with oil and wine; the forests give them fuel, the rivers fish, and the gardens cassava, ground-nuts, and Indian corn. "The chiefs enact strict laws, and, though possessed of but little actual power either of wealth or retinue, exact the utmost deference, and are exceedingly ceremonious, being always followed by a drummer, who taps his drum with masterly skill born of long and continued practice. "On the 11th we crossed the Luama River--a stream two hundred yards wide and eight feet deep in the centre at the ferry--called the Rugumba in Ubujwé. Below the ford, as far as the Lualaba, its current is from three to six knots an hour, and about five feet deep, flowing over a shaly bed. "On the western side of the Luama the women at once fled upon the approach of our caravan--a certain sign that there had been trouble between them and Arabs. "My predecessors, Livingstone and Cameron, had, after crossing the stream, proceeded west, but I preferred to follow the Luama to its junction with the Lualaba, and thence to Nyangwé. "The Luama valley is about twenty miles wide, furrowed with many water-courses; the soil is poor, abounding with yellow quartz, but resting upon soft shale. The ridges are formed of dykes of granite, which peep out frequently in large masses from among the foliage of trees. "The people appeared to be very timid, but behaved amiably. Over fifty followed us, and carried loads most willingly. Three volunteered to follow us wherever we should go, but we declined their offer. "Our riding-donkeys were the first ever seen in Manyema, and effected a striking demonstration in our favor. They obtained more admiration than even we Europeans. Hundreds of natives ran up to us at each village in the greatest excitement to behold the strange, long-eared animals, and followed us long distances from their homes to observe the donkeys' motions. "One donkey, known by the name of Muscati, a high-spirited animal from Arabia, possessed braying powers which almost equalled the roar of a lion in volume, and really appeared to enjoy immensely the admiration he excited. His asinine soul took great delight in braying at the unsophisticated Africans of the trans-Luama, for his bray sent them flying in all directions. Scores of times during a day's march we were asked the name of the beast, and, having learned it, they were never tired of talking about the 'Mpunda.' "One must not rashly impute all the blame to the Arabs and Wa-Swahili of the Zanzibar coast for their excesses in Manyema, for the natives are also in a way to blame. Just as the Saxon and Dane and Jute, invited by the Britons, became their masters, so the Arabs, invited by the Manyema to assist them against one another, have become their tyrants. [Illustration: HOUSE OF AN ARAB MERCHANT, CENTRAL AFRICA.] "Bribes were offered to us three times by Manyema chiefs to assist them in destroying their neighbors, to whom they are of near kin, and with whom they have almost daily intimate relations. Our refusal of ivory and slaves appeared to surprise the chiefs, and they expressed the opinion that we white men were not as good as the Arabs, for--though it was true we did not rob them of their wives and daughters, enslave their sons, or despoil them of a single article--the Arabs would have assisted them. [Illustration: HOUSE OF A MANYEMA CHIEF.] "One really does not know whether to pity or to despise the natives of Manyema. Many are amiable enough to deserve good and kind treatment, but others are hardly human. They fly to the woods upon the approach of strangers, leaving their granaries[8] of Indian corn, erected like screens across the streets, or just outside the villages, in tempting view of hungry people. If the strangers follow them into the woods to persuade them to return and sell food, the purpose of the visit is mistaken, and they are assailed from behind depths of bush and tall trees. They are humble and liberal to the strong-armed Arab, savage and murderous and cannibalistic to small bands, and every slain man provides a banquet of meat for the forest-natives of Manyema. Livingstone's uniform gentle treatment of all classes deserved a better return than to have his life attempted four times. His patience finally exhausted, and his life in danger, he gave the order to his men, 'Fire upon them, these men are wicked.' [8] These granaries consist of tall poles--like telegraph poles--planted at a distance of about ten feet from each other, to which are attached about a dozen lines of lliane, or creepers, at intervals, from top to bottom. On these several lines are suspended the maize, point downwards, by the shucks of the cob. Their appearance suggests lofty screens built up of corn. "On the 13th, after a march of thirteen miles in a west-southwest direction, along a very crooked path, we arrived at Kabungwé. "At this settlement we observed for the first time spears all of wood, having their points sharp and hardened in fire and shafts eight to ten feet long. As each warrior possesses a sheaf of these weapons, besides a vast wooden shield, he is sufficiently armed against a native enemy, and might, by a little boldness, become a dangerous foe to an Arab. "The currency throughout Manyema consists of cowries. Six cowries formed the ration money of the Wangwana, three cowries purchased a chicken, two procured ten maize-ears, one cowrie obtained the service of a native to grind the grain, two cowries were a day's hire for a porter; so that the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi were enjoying both abundance and relief from labor while we were travelling through Manyema. "At Kabungwé I was alarmed at an insufferable odor that pervaded the air we breathed, for, whether in the house or without, the atmosphere seemed loaded with an intolerable stench. On inquiring of the natives whether there was any dead animal putrefying in the neighborhood, they pointed to the firewood that was burning, and to a tree--a species of laurel--as that which emitted the smell. Upon examination I found it was indeed due to this strange wood, which, however, only becomes offensive under the action of fire. "Between Kabungwé and Mtuyu, our next camp, the country is extremely populous. Were all the villages we passed inhabited by brave men, a brigade of European troops could not move without precaution. The people, however, did not attempt to molest us, though an enormous number came out to stare at us and our donkeys. "The natives are quick to adopt nicknames. In some places the Arabs were known by the name of Mwana Ngombé, 'lords of cows.' "The Sarmeen of my first expedition received from his comrades, for his detective qualities, the name of Kachéché, or the 'weasel.' "Sambuzi received the title of Mta-uza, or the 'spoiler;' and one of his subordinates was called Kiswaga, or 'fleet-foot.' "Kalulu's name was formerly Ndugu Mali, 'brother of money.' "Wadi Safeni had a young relative in the expedition entitled Akili Mali, or 'one who is wise with his money.' "In the same manner countries receive appellations distinctive of peculiarities, such as, Unya-Nyembé, land of hoes. U-Yofu, land of elephants. Unya-Mbewa, land of goats. Unya-Nkondo, land of sheep. U-Konongo, land of travellers. Unya-Nguruwé, land of hogs. U-Nguru, land of mountains. U-Kusu, land of parrots. U-Ganda, land of drums. U-Lungu or U-Rungu, plain land. Ma-Rungu, plateau land. U-Kutu, land of ears (long ears?). U-Karanga, land of ground nuts. U-Lua, or U-Rua, land of lakes. U-Emba, lake land. U-Bwari, land of food. "Mtuyu is the easternmost settlement of the country of Uzura. On arrival we perceived that all their women were absent, and naturally inquired what had become of them. They replied, in pathetic strains, 'Oh, they are all dead; all cut off, every one. It was the small-pox!' "We sympathized with them, of course, because of such a terrible loss, and attempted to express our concern. But one of our enterprising people, while endeavoring to search out a good market for his cowries, discovered several dozen of the women in a wooded ravine! They had been concealed under the supposition that we were slave-hunters. "Skirting the range of hills which bounds the Luama valley on the north, we marched to Mpungu, which is fifteen miles west of Mtuyu. Kiteté, its chief, is remarkable for a plaited beard twenty inches long, decorated at the tips with a number of blue glass beads. His hair was also trussed up on the crown of his head in a shapely mass. His brother possessed a beard six inches long; there were half a dozen others with beards of three or four inches long. Kiteté's symbol of royalty was a huge truncheon, or Hercules club, blackened and hardened by fire. His village was neat, and the architecture of the huts peculiar, as the picture below shows. [Illustration: KITETÉ, THE CHIEF OF MPUNGU.] "The Luama valley at Uzura at this season presents a waving extent of grass-grown downs, and while crossing over the higher swells of land we enjoyed uninterrupted views of thirty or forty miles to the west and south. [Illustration: VILLAGE NEAR KABUNGWÉ.] "From Mpungu we travelled through an interesting country (a distance of four miles), and suddenly from the crest of a low ridge saw the confluence of the Luama with the majestic Lualaba. The former appeared to have a breadth of four hundred yards at the mouth; the latter was about fourteen hundred yards wide, a broad river of a pale gray color winding slowly from south and by east. "We hailed its appearance with shouts of joy, and rested on the spot to enjoy the view. Across the river, beyond a tawny, grassy stretch towards the south-southwest, is Mount Kijima; about one thousand feet above the valley, to the south-southeast, across the Luama, runs the Luhye-ya ridge; from its base the plain slopes to the swift Luama. In the bed of the great river are two or three small islands, green with the verdure of trees and sedge. I likened it even here to the Mississippi, as it appears before the impetuous, full-volumed Missouri pours its rusty-brown water into it. "A secret rapture filled my soul as I gazed upon the majestic stream. The great mystery that for all these centuries nature had kept hidden away from the world of science was waiting to be solved. For two hundred and twenty miles I had followed one of the sources of the Livingstone to the confluence, and now before me lay the superb river itself! My task was to follow it to the ocean." [Illustration: NATIVE HOUSES AT MTUYU.] "It is getting late," said Mr. Stanley, glancing at his watch, "and I will leave you at this point where you can dream of the great river and its course to the sea. To-morrow you shall hear about some of the difficulties we encountered in going forward with the expedition." As Mr. Stanley retired he was loudly applauded, and it was evident that the little audience were greatly pleased to hear from his own lips the account of his journey through the African wilderness. [Illustration: ANTS'-NEST IN MANYEMA.] CHAPTER IX. DIFFICULTIES OF LIVINGSTONE AND CAMERON WITH THEIR FOLLOWERS.--PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF TIPPU-TIB.--NEGOTIATIONS FOR AN ESCORT.--TIPPU-TIB ARRANGES TO GO WITH STANLEY.--THE WONDERS OF UREGGA.--GORILLAS AND BOA-CONSTRICTORS.--THEIR REMARKABLE PERFORMANCES.--A NATION OF DWARFS.--HOW STANLEY DECIDED WHAT ROUTE TO FOLLOW.--HEADS OR TAILS?--"SHALL IT BE SOUTH OR NORTH?"--SIGNING THE CONTRACT WITH TIPPU-TIB.--A REMARKABLE ACCIDENT.--ENTERING NYANGWÉ.--LOCATION AND IMPORTANCE OF THE PLACE.--ITS ARAB RESIDENTS.--MARKET SCENES AT NYANGWÉ.--READY FOR THE START. The forenoon of the next day was passed as usual; and in the afternoon the party assembled for the continuation of the story of the journey across the Dark Continent. It was Fred's turn to read, and the young man was promptly in his place at the table, and with the open volume before him. [Illustration: HILL AND VILLAGE ON THE ROAD TO NYANGWÉ.] "Mr. Stanley left us, last evening," said Fred, "on the banks of the great river which he called the Livingstone, but which is more familiar to us as the Congo. Early the next day after his arrival he resumed his march, pressing forward in the direction of Nyangwé, the farthest point reached by Livingstone and afterwards by Cameron. Both these travellers greatly desired to explore the mysterious river which flowed past Nyangwé, but were unable to do so. Neither could induce his men to advance beyond that point; they tried to purchase or hire canoes with which to descend the river, but none could be obtained. "The same fate threatened to fall upon Stanley, and compel him to turn back to Ujiji just as had been the case with Livingstone. But it was his good-fortune to meet one Hamed bin Mohammed, or Tippu-Tib, an Arab trader of great influence, who is well known throughout Central Africa. He has a large force of Arabs under his control, and is a sort of migratory king among the people where he moves. He can easily assemble a thousand Arab fighting-men at a few days' notice, and at almost any moment he can command the services of two or three hundred of them. Here is a description of him as given by Mr. Stanley: "He was a tall, black-bearded man, of negroid complexion, in the prime of life, straight, and quick in his movements, a picture of energy and strength. He had a fine, intelligent face, with a nervous twitching of the eyes, and gleaming white and perfectly formed teeth. He was attended by a large retinue of young Arabs, who looked up to him as chief, and a score of Wangwana and Wanyamwezi followers whom he had led over thousands of miles through Africa. "With the air of a well-bred Arab, and almost courtier-like in his manner, he welcomed me to the village, and his slaves being ready at hand with mat and bolster, he reclined _vis-à-vis_, while a buzz of admiration of his style was perceptible from the on-lookers. After regarding him for a few minutes, I came to the conclusion that this Arab was a remarkable man--the most remarkable man I had met among Arabs, Wa-Swahili, and half-castes in Africa. He was neat in his person, his clothes were of a spotless white, his fez-cap brand-new, his waist was encircled by a rich dowlé, his dagger was splendid with silver filigree, and his _tout ensemble_ was that of an Arab gentleman in very comfortable circumstances. "The person above described was the Arab who had escorted Cameron across the Lualaba as far as Utotera, south latitude 5°, and east longitude 25° 54'. Naturally, therefore, there was no person at Nyangwé whose evidence was more valuable than Tippu-Tib's as to the direction that my predecessor at Nyangwé had taken. The information he gave me was sufficiently clear--and was, moreover, confirmed by other Arabs--that the greatest problem of African geography was left untouched at the exact spot where Dr. Livingstone had felt himself unable to prosecute his travels, and whence he had retraced his steps to Ujiji never to return to Nyangwé." "After a long conference," said Fred, "Mr. Stanley asked Tippu-Tib if he would accompany the expedition in the exploration of the great river. The Arab at first declined the proposal, but after several interviews and a considerable amount of negotiation, it was arranged that, in consideration of five thousand dollars, Tippu-Tib with one hundred and fifty of his followers would accompany Mr. Stanley for a distance of sixty marches from Nyangwé in any direction the latter should choose to take. The contract between them was very carefully drawn, and a considerable time was spent in arranging it. [Illustration: WAITING TO BE PHOTOGRAPHED.] "While these negotiations were in progress Mr. Stanley obtained all the information possible from Arabs and others relative to the region he proposed to visit. One Arab who claimed to have followed the course of the river for a great distance said it flowed 'to the north, to the north, always to the north, and there is no end to it till it reaches the salt sea.' He had, he declared, travelled to the north along the banks of the river till he reached the country of the dwarfs, a journey of nine months. They were a powerful people, although they were so small; the men were only a yard high, with big heads and long beards. His party had a terrible fight with these dwarfs, who fought with poisoned arrows that cause death almost instantly by the slightest scratch. Every man that was killed was immediately eaten by the dwarfs, who have the reputation of being the worst cannibals in all Africa. Out of two or three hundred Arabs that went on this expedition, only about thirty remained to return to Nyangwé. "After listening to this wonderful story Mr. Stanley asked the Arab if he saw any other curious things on his journey. [Illustration: A YOUNG SOKO (GORILLA).] "'Oh, yes!' he answered. 'There are monstrous large boa-constrictors in the forest of Uregga, suspended by their tails to the branches, waiting for the passer-by or for a stray antelope. The ants in that forest are not to be despised. You cannot travel without your body being covered with them, when they sting you like wasps. The leopards are so numerous that you cannot go very far without seeing one. Almost every native wears a leopard-skin cap. The sokos (gorillas) are in the woods, and woe befall the man or woman met alone by them; for they run up to you and seize your hands, and bite the fingers off one by one, and as fast as they bite one off, they spit it out. The Wasongora Meno and Waregga are cannibals, and unless the force is very strong, they never let strangers pass. It is nothing but constant fighting. Only two years ago a party armed with three hundred guns started north of Usongora Meno; they only brought sixty guns back, and no ivory. If one tries to go by the river, there are falls after falls, which carry the people over and drown them. A party of thirty men, in three canoes, went down the river half a day's journey from Nyangwé, when the old white man (Livingstone) was living there. They were all drowned, and that was the reason he did not go on. Had he done so, he would have been eaten, for what could he have done? Ah, no. Master, the country is bad, and the Arabs have given it up. They will not try the journey into that country again, after trying it three times and losing nearly five hundred men altogether.' "Before closing his contract with Tippu-Tib Mr. Stanley consulted Frank Pocock, his only remaining white companion, in order to obtain his views of the matter. I will read his account of the consultation and what followed it. "At 6 P.M. a couple of saucers, filled with palm-oil and fixed with cotton-wick, were lit. It was my after-dinner hour, the time for pipes and coffee, which Frank was always invited to share. "When he came in the coffee-pot was boiling, and little Mabruki was in waiting to pour out. The tobacco-pouch, filled with the choicest production of Africa--that of Masansi, near Uvira--was ready. Mabruki poured out the coffee, and retired, leaving us together. "'Now Frank, my son,' I said, 'sit down. I am about to have a long and serious chat with you. Life and death--yours as well as mine, and those of all the expedition--hang on the decision I make to-night.' [Illustration: BLACKSMITHS AT WORK.] "And then I reminded him of his friends at home, and also of the dangers before him; of the sorrow his death would cause, and also of the honors that would greet his success; of the facility of returning to Zanzibar, and also of the perilous obstacles in the way of advance--thus carefully alternating the _pro_ with the _con_, so as not to betray my own inclinations. I reminded him of the hideous scenes we had already been compelled to witness and to act in, pointing out that other wicked tribes, no doubt, lay before us; but also recalling to his memory how treachery, cunning, and savage courage had been baulked by patience and promptitude; and how we still possessed the power to punish those who threatened us or murdered our friends. And I ended with words something like these: "'There is, no doubt, some truth in what the Arabs say about the ferocity of these natives before us. Livingstone, after fifteen thousand miles of travel, and a lifetime of experience among Africans, would not have yielded the brave struggle without strong reasons; Cameron, with his forty-five Snider rifles, would never have turned away from such a brilliant field if he had not sincerely thought that they were insufficient to resist the persistent attacks of countless thousands of wild men. But while we grant that there may be a modicum of truth in what the Arabs say, it is in their ignorant, superstitious nature to exaggerate what they have seen. A score of times have we proved them wrong. Yet their reports have already made a strong impression on the minds of the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi. They are already trembling with fear, because they suspect that I am about to attempt the cannibal lands beyond Nyangwé. On the day that we propose to begin our journey, we shall have no expedition. [Illustration: NATIVE TRAP FOR GAME.] "'On the other hand, I am confident that, if I am able to leave Nyangwé with the expedition intact, and to place a breadth of wild country between our party and the Arab depot, I shall be able to make men of them. There are good stuff, heroic qualities, in them; but we must get free from the Arabs, or they will be very soon demoralized. It is for this purpose I am negotiating with Tippu-Tib. If I can arrange with him and leave Nyangwé without the dreadful loss we experienced at Ujiji, I feel sure that I can inspire my men to dare anything with me. "'The difficulty of transport, again, is enormous. We cannot obtain canoes at Nyangwé. Livingstone could not, Cameron failed. No doubt I shall fail. I shall not try to obtain any. But we might buy up all the axes that we can see between here and Nyangwé, and travelling overland on this side the Lualaba, we might, before Tippu-Tib's contract is at an end, come across a tribe which would sell their canoes. We have sufficient stores to last a long time, and I shall purchase more at Nyangwé. If the natives will not sell, we can make our own canoes, if we possess a sufficient number of axes to set all hands at work. "'Now, what I wish you to tell me, Frank, is your opinion as to what we ought to do.' "Frank's answer was ready. "'I say, "Go on, sir."' "'Think well, my dear fellow; don't be hasty; life and death hang on our decision. Don't you think we could explore to the east of Cameron's road?' "'But there is nothing like this great river, sir.' "'What do you say to Lake Lincoln, Lake Kamolondo, Lake Bemba, and all that part, down to the Zambezi?' "'Ah! that is a fine field, sir; and perhaps the natives would not be so ferocious. Would they?' "'Yet, as you said just now, it would be nothing to the great river, which for all these thousands of years has been flowing steadily to the north through hundreds, perhaps thousands, of miles, of which no one has ever heard a word.' [Illustration: CANOES ON THE RIVER.] "'Let us follow the river, sir.' "'Yet, my friend, think yet again. Look at all these faithful fellows whose lives depend on our word; think of our own, for we are yet young and strong and active. Why should we throw them away for a barren honor, or if we succeed have every word we said doubted, and carped at, and our motives misconstrued by malicious minds, who distort everything to our injury?' "'Ah, true, sir. I was one of those who doubted that you had ever found Livingstone. I don't mind telling you now. Until I came to Zanzibar, and saw your people, I did not believe it, and there are hundreds in Rochester who shared my opinion.' "'And do you believe, Frank, that you are in Manyema now?' "'I am obliged to, sir.' "'Are you not afraid, should you return to England, that when men say you have never been to Africa, as no doubt they will, you will come to disbelieve it yourself?' "'Ah, no, sir,' he replied. 'I can never forget Ituru; the death of my brother in that wild land; the deaths of so many Wangwana there; the great lake; Uganda; our march to Muta Nzege; Rumanika; my life in Ujiji; the Tanganika; and our march here.' "'But what do you think, Frank? Had we not better explore northeast of here, until we reach Muta Nzege, circumnavigate that lake, and strike across to Uganda again, and return to Zanzibar by way of Kagehyi?' "'That would be a fine job, sir, if we could do it.' "'Yet, if you think of it, Frank, this great river which Livingstone first saw, and which broke his heart almost to turn away from and leave a mystery, is a noble field too. Fancy, by and by, after buying or building canoes, our floating down the river day by day, either to the Nile or to some vast lake in the far north, or to the Congo and the Atlantic Ocean! Think what a benefit our journey will be to Africa. Steamers from the mouth of the Congo to Lake Bemba, and to all the great rivers which run into it!' "'I say, sir, let us toss up; best two out of three to decide it.' "'Toss away. Here is a rupee.' "'Heads for the north and the Lualaba; tails for the south and Katanga.' "Frank stood up, his face beaming. He tossed the rupee high up. The coin dropped. "'What is it?' I asked. "'Tails, sir!' said Frank, with a face expressive of strong disapproval. "'Toss again.' "He tossed again, and 'tails' was again announced--and six times running 'tails' won. [Illustration: "HEADS FOR THE NORTH AND THE LUALABA; TAILS FOR THE SOUTH AND KATANGA."] "We then tried straws--the short straws for the south, the long straws for the River Lualaba--and again we were disappointed, for Frank persisted in drawing out the short straws, and in leaving the long straws in my hands. "'It is of no use, Frank. Well face our destiny, despite the rupee and straws. With your help, my dear fellow, I will follow the river.' "'Mr. Stanley, have no fear of me. I shall stand by you. The last words of my dear old father were, "Stick by your master." And there is my hand, sir; you shall never have cause to doubt me.' "'Good; I shall go on, then. I will finish this contract with Tippu-Tib, for the Wangwana, on seeing him accompany us, will perhaps be willing to follow me. We may also recruit others at Nyangwé. And then, if the natives will allow peaceful passage through their countries, so much the better. If not, our duty says, "Go on."' [Illustration: A FOLLOWER OF TIPPU-TIB.] "The next night Tippu-Tib and his friends visited me again. The contract was written, and signed by the respective parties and their witnesses. The Wangwana chiefs were then called, and it was announced to them that Tippu-Tib, with one hundred and forty guns and seventy Wanyamwezi spearmen, would escort us a distance of sixty camps, when, if we found the countries hostile to us, and no hopes of meeting other traders, we should return with him to Nyangwé. If we met Portuguese or Turkish traders, a portion of us would continue the journey with them, and the remainder would return with Tippu-Tib to Nyangwé. This announcement was received with satisfaction, and the chiefs said that, owing to Tippu-Tib's presence, no Arab at Nyangwé would dare to harbor a runaway from the expedition. "Cowries and beads were then counted out and given that evening to Tippu-Tib, as ration money for ten days from the day of his departure from Mwana Mamba. "The next morning, being the 24th of October, the expedition left Mwana Mamba in high spirits. The good effect of the contract with Tippu-Tib had already brought us recruits, for on the road I observed several strange faces of men who, on our arrival at the first camp, Marimbu, eleven miles northwest from Mwana Mamba, appeared before my tent, and craved to be permitted to follow us. They received an advance in cloth, and their names were entered on the muster-list of the expedition at the same rate of pay as the other Wanyamwezi and Wangwana. "Through a fine rolling country, but depopulated, with every mile marked by ruined villages, we marched in a northwesterly direction, and on the 25th of October arrived at Kankumba, crossing the Mshama stream by the way. "About one mile from our camp was the marshy valley of the Kunda River, another tributary of the Lualaba, which rises in Uzimba; to the east-northeast of us, about eight miles off, rose some hilly cones, spurs of the Manyema hills; on the west stretched a rolling grassy land extending to the Lualaba. "The grass (genus _Panicum_) of Manyema is like other things in this prolific land, of gigantic proportions, and denser than the richest field of corn. The stalks are an inch in diameter, and about eight feet high. In fact, what I have called 'grassy land' is more like a waving country planted with young bamboo. "Young Kalulu, who, since his recapture at the Uguha port on Lake Tanganika, had been well behaved, and was in high favor again, met with a serious and very remarkable accident at Kankumba. A chief, called Mabruki the elder, had retained a cartridge in his Snider, contrary to orders, and, leaving it carelessly on the stacked goods, a hurrying Mgwana kicked it down with his foot, which caused it to explode. Kalulu, who was reclining on his mat near a fire, was wounded in no fewer than _eight_ places, the bullet passing through the outer part of his lower legs, the upper part of his thigh, and, glancing over his right ribs, through the muscles of his left arm. "Though the accident had caused severe wounds, there was no danger, and, by applying a little arnica, lint, and bandages, we soon restored him to a hopeful view of his case. "On the morning of the 27th we descended from our camp at Kankumba to the banks of the Kunda, a river about forty yards wide, and ten feet deep at the ferry. The canoe-men were Wagenya, or Wenya, fishermen under the protection of Sheik Abed bin Salim, alias 'Tanganika.' [Illustration: A CANOE OF THE WENYA, OR WAGENYA, FISHERMEN.] "A rapid march of four miles brought us to the outskirts of Nyangwé, where we were met by Abed bin Salim, an old man of sixty-five years of age, Mohammed bin Sayid, a young Arab with a remarkably long nose and small eyes, Sheik Abed's fundis or elephant-hunters, and several Wangwana, all dressed in spotless white shirts, crimson fezzes, and sandals. "Sheik Abed was pleased to monopolize me, by offering me a house in his neighborhood. [Illustration: POT-POURRI. 1. Fish-spear. 2,3. Spears. 4,5,6. Arrow-heads. 7,8,9. Modes of stringing bows. 10,11,12. Knives. 13,14. Walking-sticks. 15. Charm. 16,17,18. Drums. 19. Iron gong. 20,21. Iron bells. 22. Musical instrument. 23. Marimba. 24. Sticks for playing marimba. 25. Rattle.] "The manner that we entered Nyangwé appeared, from subsequent conversation, to have struck Sheik Abed, who, from his long residence there, had witnessed the arrival and departure of very many caravans. There was none of the usual firing of guns and wild shouting and frenzied action; and the order and steadiness of veterans, the close files of a column which tolerably well understood by this time the difference between discipline and lawlessness with its stragglers and slovenly laggards, made a marked impression upon the old Arab. "Another thing that surprised him was the rapidity of the journey from the Tanganika--three hundred and thirty-eight miles in forty-three days, inclusive of all halts. He said that the usual period occupied by Arabs was between three and four months. Yet the members of the expedition were in admirable condition. They had never enjoyed better health, and we had not one sick person; the only one incapacitated for work was Kalulu, and he had been accidentally wounded only the very night before. Between the Tanganika and the Arab depot of Nyangwé neither Frank nor I had suffered the slightest indisposition. [Illustration: VIEW IN NYANGWÉ.] "Nyangwé is the extreme westernmost locality inhabited by the Arab traders from Zanzibar. It stands in east longitude 26° 16', south latitude 4° 15', on the right or eastern side of the Lualaba, on the verge of a high and reddish bank rising some forty feet above the river, with clear open country north along the river for a distance of three miles, east some ten miles, south over seventy miles, or as far as the confluence of the Luama with the Lualaba. The town called Nyangwé is divided into two sections. The northern section has for its centre the quarters of Muini Dugumbi, the first Arab arrival here (in 1868); and around his house are the commodious quarters of his friends, their families and slaves--in all, perhaps, three hundred houses. The southern section is separated from its neighbor by a broad hollow, cultivated and sown with rice for the Arabs. When the Lualaba rises to its full amplitude, this hollow is flooded. The chief house of the southern half of Nyangwé is the large and well-built clay _banda_ of Sheik Abed bin Salim. In close neighborhood to this are the houses and huts of those Arab Wangwana who prefer the company of Abed bin Salim to Muini Dugumbi. "Between the two foreign chiefs of Nyangwé there is great jealousy. Each endeavors to be recognized by the natives as being the most powerful. Dugumbi is an east-coast trader of Sa'adani, a half-caste, a vulgar, coarse-minded old man of probably seventy years of age, with a negroid nose and a negroid mind. Sheik Abed is a tall, thin old man, white-bearded, patriarchal in aspect, narrow-minded, rather peevish and quick to take offence, a thorough believer in witchcraft, and a fervid Muslim. "Close to Abed's elbows of late years has been the long-nosed young Arab, Mohammed bin Sayid, superstitious beyond measure, of enormous cunning and subtlety, a pertinacious beggar, of keen trading instincts, but in all matters outside trade as simple as a child. He offered, for a consideration and on condition that I would read the Arabic Koran, to take me up and convey me to any part of Africa within a day. By such unblushing falsehoods he has acquired considerable influence over the mind of Sheik Abed. The latter told me that he was half afraid of him, and that he believed Mohammed was an extraordinary man. I asked the silly old sheik if he had lent him any ivory. No; but he was constantly being asked for the loan of ten frasilah (three hundred and fifty pounds) of ivory, for which he was promised fifteen frasilah, or five hundred and twenty-five pounds, within six months. "Mohammed, during the very first day of my arrival, sent one of his favorite slaves to ask first for a little writing-paper, then for needles and thread, and, a couple of hours afterwards, for white pepper and a bar of soap; in the evening, for a pound or two of sugar and a little tea, and, if I could spare it, he would be much obliged for some coffee. The next day petitions, each very prettily worded--for Mohammed is an accomplished reader of the Koran--came, first for medicine, then for a couple of yards of red cloth, then for a few yards of fine white sheeting, etc. I became quite interested in him--for was he not a lovable, genial character, as he sat there chewing betel-nut and tobacco to excess, twinkling his little eyes with such malicious humor in them that, while talking with him, I could not withdraw mine from watching their quick flashes of cunning, and surveying the long, thin nose, with its impenetrable mystery and classic lines? I fear Mohammed did not love me, but my admiration was excessive for Mohammed. [Illustration: A BOWMAN.] "'La il Allah--il Allah!' he was heard to say to Sheik Abed, 'that old white man Daoud (Livingstone) never gave much to any man; this white man gives _nothing_.' Certainly not, Mohammed. My admiration is great for thee, my friend; but thou liest so that I am disgusted with thee, and thou hast such a sweet, plausible, villainous look in thy face, I could punch thee heartily. "The next morning Muini (Lord) Dugumbi and following came--a gang of veritable freebooters, chiefest of whom was the famous Mtagamoyo--the butcher of women and fusillader of children. Tippu-Tib, when I asked him, a few weeks after, what he thought of Mtagamoyo, turned up his nose and said, 'He is brave, no doubt, but he is a man whose heart is as big as the end of my little finger. He has no feeling; he kills a native as though he were a serpent--it matters not of what sex.' "This man is about forty-four years of age, of middle stature and swarthy complexion, with a broad face, black beard just graying, and thin-lipped. He spoke but little, and that little courteously. He did not appear very formidable, but he might be deadly, nevertheless. The Arabs of Nyangwé regard him as their best fighter. "Dugumbi the patriarch, or, as he is called by the natives, Molemba-Lemba, had the rollicking look of a prosperous and coarse-minded old man, who was perfectly satisfied with the material aspect of his condition. He deals in humor of the coarsest kind--a vain, frivolous old fellow, ignorant of everything but the art of collecting ivory, who has contrived to attach to himself a host of nameless half-castes of inordinate pride, savage spirit, and immeasurable greed. [Illustration: CAMP SCENE.] "The Arabs of Nyangwé, when they first heard of the arrival of Tippu-Tib at Imbarri from the south, were anxious to count him as their fellow-settler; but Tippu-Tib had no ambition to become the chief citizen of a place which could boast of no better settlers than vain old Dugumbi, the butcher Mtagamoyo, and silly Sheik Abed; he therefore proceeded to Mwana Mamba's, where he found better society with Mohammed bin Sayid, Sayid bin Sultan, Msé Ani, and Sayid bin Mohammed el Mezrui. Sayid bin Sultan, in features, is a rough copy of Abdul Aziz, late Sultan of Turkey. [Illustration: AN ESCORT OF GUNNERS AND SPEARMEN.] "One of the principal institutions at Nyangwé is the Kituka, or the market, with the first of which I made acquaintance in 1871, in Ujiji and Urundi. One day it is held in the open plaza in front of Sheik Abed's house; on the next day in Dugumbi's section, half a mile from the other; and on the third at the confluence of the Kunda and the Lualaba; and so on in turn. "In this market everything becomes vendible and purchasable, from an ordinary earthenware pot to a slave. From one thousand to three thousand natives gather here from across the Lualaba and from the Kunda banks, from the islands up the river, and from the villages of the Mitamba, or forest. Nearly all are clad in the fabrics of Manyema, fine grass-cloths, which are beautifully colored and very durable. The articles sold here for cowries, beads, copper and iron wire, and lambas, or squares of palm-cloth,[9] represent the productions of Manyema. I went round the market and made out the following list: [9] Made from the fibre of the _Raphia vinifera_ palm. Sweet potatoes. Eggs. Basket-work. Yams. Fowls. Cassava bread. Maize. Black pigs. Cassava flour. Sesamum. Goats. Copper bracelets. Millet. Sheep. Iron wire. Beans. Parrots. Iron knobs. Cucumbers. Palm-wine (Malofu). Hoes. Melons Pombé (beer). Spears. Cassava. Mussels and oysters from Bows and arrows. Ground-nuts. the river. Hatchets. Bananas. Fresh fish. Rattan-cane staves. Sugar-cane. Dried fish. Stools. Pepper (in berries). Whitebait. Crockery. Vegetables for broths. Snails (dried). Powdered camwood. Wild fruit. Salt. Grass cloths. Palm-butter. White ants. Grass mats. Oil-palm nuts. Grasshoppers. Fuel. Pineapples. Tobacco (dried leaf). Ivory. Honey. Pipes. Slaves. Fishing-nets. "From this it will be perceived that the wants of Nyangwé are very tolerably supplied. And how like any other market place it was! with its noise and murmur of human voices. The same rivalry in extolling their wares, the eager, quick action, the emphatic gesture, the inquisitive look, the facial expressions of scorn and triumph, anxiety, joy, plausibility, were all there. I discovered, too, the surprising fact that the aborigines of Manyema possess just the same inordinate ideas in respect to their wares as London, Paris, and New York shopkeepers. Perhaps the Manyema people are not so voluble, but they compensate for lack of language by gesture and action, which are unspeakably eloquent. [Illustration: SLAVE OFFERED IN THE MARKET.] "During this month of the year the Lualaba reached its lowest level. Our boat, the _Lady Alice_, after almost being rebuilt, was launched in the river, and with sounding-line and sextant on board, my crew and I, eager to test the boat on the gray-brown waters of the great river, pushed off at 11 A.M., and rowed for an island opposite, eight hundred yards distant, taking soundings as we went. The soundings showed a mean depth of eighteen feet nine inches. [Illustration: NYANGWÉ HEADS.] "The easternmost island in mid-river is about one hundred yards across at its widest part, and between it and another island is a distance of from two hundred and fifty to three hundred yards. From the second island to the low shore opposite Nyangwé is about two hundred and fifty yards, and these channels have a slightly swifter flow than the main river. The mean depth of the central channel was twelve and a half feet, the westernmost eleven feet, and the entire width of clear water flow was about thirteen hundred yards. During the months of April, May, and June, and the early part of July, the Lualaba is full, and overspreads the low lands westward for nearly a mile and a half. The Lualaba then may be said to be from four thousand to five thousand yards wide opposite Nyangwé. "The Arabs, wherever they settle throughout Africa, endeavor to introduce the seeds of the vegetables and fruit-trees which grow in their beloved island of Zanzibar. At Unyanyembé, therefore, they have planted papaws, sweet limes, mangoes, lemons, custard-apples, pomegranates, and have sown wheat and rice in abundance. At Ujiji, also, they have papaws, sweet limes, pomegranates, lemons, wheat, rice, and onions. At Nyangwé their fruit consists of pineapples, papaws, and pomegranates. They have succeeded admirably in their rice, both at Nyangwé, Kasongo's, and Mwana Mamba's. [Illustration: NYANGWÉ POTTERY.] "The Wagenya, as the Arabs call them, or Wenya--pronounced Wainya--as they style themselves, are a remarkable tribe of fishers, who inhabit both banks of the Lualaba, from the confluence of the Kamalondo, on the left bank, down to the sixth cataract of the Stanley Falls, and on the right bank, from the confluence of the Luama down to Ubwiré, or Usongora Meno. "The Wenya were the aborigines of Nyangwé, when the advanced party of Muini Dugumbi appeared on the scene--precursors of ruin, terror, and depopulation, to the inhabitants of seven hundred square miles of Manyema. Considering that the fertile open tract of country between the Luama and Nyangwé was exceedingly populous, as the ruins of scores of villages testify, sixty inhabitants to the square mile would not be too great a proportion. The river border, then, of Manyema, from the Luama to Nyangwé, may be said to have had a population of forty-two thousand souls, of which there remain probably only twenty thousand. The others have been deported, or massacred, or have fled to the islands or emigrated down the river. "Tippu-Tib arrived at Nyangwé on the 2d of November, with a much larger force than I anticipated, for he had nearly seven hundred people with him. However, he explained that he was about to send some three hundred of them to a country called Tata, which lies to the east of Usongora Meno. [Illustration: MUINI DUJAMBI'S FOLLOWERS ATTACKING NYANGWÉ.] "On the 4th of November the members of the expedition were mustered, and we ascertained that they numbered one hundred and fifty-four, and that we possessed the following arms: Sniders, 29; percussion-lock muskets, 32; Winchesters, 2; double-barrelled guns, 2; revolvers, 10; axes, 68. Out of this number of sixty-four guns only forty were borne by trustworthy men; the others were mere pagazis, who would prefer becoming slaves to fighting for their freedom and lives. At the same time they were valuable as porters, and faithful to their allotted duties and their contract, when not enticed away by outside influences or fear. The enormous force that Tippu-Tib brought to Nyangwé quite encouraged them; and when I asked them if they were ready to make good their promise to me at Zanzibar and Muta Nzege Lake, they replied unanimously in the affirmative. "'Then to-night, my friends,' said I, 'you will pack up your goods, and to-morrow morning, at the first hour, let me see you in line before my house ready to start.'" [Illustration: ANTELOPE OF THE NYANGWÉ REGION.] CHAPTER X. DEPARTURE FROM NYANGWÉ.--THE DARK UNKNOWN.--IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST.--AN AFRICAN WILDERNESS.--SAVAGE FURNITURE.--TIPPU-TIB'S DEPENDANTS.--A TOILSOME MARCH.--THE DENSE JUNGLE.--A DEMORALIZED COLUMN.--AFRICAN WEAPONS.--A VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.--SKULLS OF SOKOS.--STANLEY'S LAST PAIR OF SHOES.--SNAKES IN THE WAY.--THE TERRIBLE UNDER-GROWTH.--NATIVES OF UREGGA AND THEIR CHARACTERISTICS.--SKULLS AS STREET ORNAMENTS.--AMONG THE CANNIBALS.--ON THE RIVER'S BANK.--A SUDDEN INSPIRATION.--THE TRUE ROAD TO THE SEA.--TIPPU-TIB'S DISCOURAGEMENTS.--ENCOUNTERING THE NATIVES.--SUCCESSFUL NEGOTIATIONS.--THE EXPEDITION FERRIED OVER THE RIVER.--CAMPING IN THE WENYA. After a brief pause Fred continued to read from the book which lay before him: "When, on the 5th of November, 1876, we had left Nyangwé behind us, and had attended an elevated grassy ridge, we saw before us a black, curving wall of forest, which, beginning from the river bank, extended southeast, until hills and distance made it indistinct. [Illustration: NEAR NYANGWÉ.] "I turned round to look at Nyangwé, which we were leaving. How lovable and cheerful it appeared as it crowned the shoulder of one of those lengthy grassy undulations overlooking the gray-brown Livingstone! How bright and warm appeared the plain border of the river as the sun shone over its wind-fanned waves of grass! Even the hill-cones of Uzura and western Manyema ranked in line between the forest and the grassy plain, which were now purpling and becoming like cloud-forms, seemed to me to have a more friendly and brighter appearance than the cold blackness of the dense forest which rose before us to the north! "What a forbidding aspect had the Dark Unknown which confronted us! I could not comprehend in the least what lay before us. Even the few names which I had heard from the Arabs conveyed no definite impression to my understanding. What were Tata, Meginna, Uregga, Usongora Meno, and such uncouth names to me? They conveyed no idea, and signified no object; they were barren names of either countries, villages, or peoples, involved in darkness, savagery, ignorance, and fable. "Yet it is our destiny to move on, whatever direction it may be that that narrow winding path, running among tall grasses and down into gullies and across small streams, takes us, until we penetrate that cold, dark, still horizon before us, and emerge whithersoever the narrow path will permit us--a distance of two hundred and forty hours' travel. "The object of the desperate journey is to flash a torch of light across the western half of the Dark Continent. For from Nyangwé east, along the fourth parallel of south latitude, are some eight hundred and thirty geographical miles, discovered, explored, and surveyed; but westward to the Atlantic Ocean, along the same latitude, are nine hundred and fifty-six miles--over nine hundred geographical miles of which are absolutely unknown. Instead, however, of striking direct west, we are about to travel north on the eastern side of the river, to prevent it bending easterly to Muta Nzege, or Nilewards, unknown to us, and to ascertain, if the river really runs westward, what affluents flow to it from the east; and to deduce from their size and volume some idea of the extent of country which they drain, and the locality of their sources. [Illustration: OPEN COUNTRY BEFORE REACHING THE FOREST.] "A thousand things may transpire to prevent the accomplishment of our purpose: hunger, disease, and savage hostility may crush us; perhaps, after all, the difficulties may daunt us, but our hopes run high, and our purpose is lofty; then, in the name of God let us set on, and as he pleases, so let him rule our destinies! "After journeying a distance of nine miles and a half northeast, over a rolling plain covered with grass, we arrived at the villages of Nakasimbi; Tippu-Tib, with seven hundred people--men, women and children--occupying two villages, while our expedition occupied another, overlooking a depression drained by a sluggish affluent of the Kunda River. "Tippu-Tib is accompanied by about a dozen Arabs, young or middle-aged, who have followed him in the hope of being rewarded by him or myself at the end of a prosperous journey. "One of them is called Sheik Abdallah, alias Muini Kibwana--a name adopted solely for Manyema. He is very ignorant, can neither read nor write, but has a vast regard for those who have mastered the secrets of literature, like Tippu-Tib. He is armed with a flint-lock Brummagem musket, for which he has considerable affection, because--according to him--it has saved his life many a time. 'It never lies.' [Illustration: TIPPU-TIB'S BODY SERVANTS.] "The next is Muini Ibrahim, a Mrima (coast) man, of Arab descent, though ruder and unpolished. Americans would have very little to do with him, because the negroid evidences are so great that he would be classed as a full-blooded negro. Yet he speaks Arabic well, and is a fervid Muslim, but withal as superstitious as any primitive African. He affects to be religious, and consequently is not blood-thirsty, having some regard for the lives of human beings, and for this receiving due praise from me. He is also armed with a flint-lock musket. Sheik Abdallah and he are bosom friends, and each possesses from thirty to forty slaves, likewise armed with flint-locks. "Tippu-Tib's Arab dependants, who dip their hands in the same porridge and meat-dish with the independent Sheik Abdallah and Muini Ibrahim, consist of Muini Jumah (Master Friday), a nervous, tall young man; Chéché (Weasel), a short, light-complexioned young man of twenty-five years of age; Bwana Abed bin Jumah, the author of the dwarf story, who has consented to act as our guide; Muini Hamadi, a half-caste man of sturdy form and resolute appearance; and six or seven others of no special individuality or importance, except as so many dependants of Tippu-Tib. "The seven hundred people who follow our expedition at present consist of two parties: one party composed of three hundred men, women, and children, and commanded by Bwana Shokka (master of the axe), the confidential man of Tippu-Tib's staff, of great strength, tall and gaunt of person, and a renowned traveller; a man of great tact, and worth a fortune to his master, as he is exceedingly cool, speaks slowly, and by some rare gift conciliates the savages (when not actually attacked on the road) and makes them friends. In a few days he is to part from us, striking northeasterly for some dozen marches, the utmost reach of Arab intercourse. [Illustration: JUMAH.] "The four hundred who are to accompany us for a distance of sixty camps consist of about two hundred and fifty men--Arabs, half-castes, Wangwana, one hundred Wanyamwezi, Ruga-Ruga--mostly armed with spears and bows and arrows; others possess flint-locks. One hundred men consist of Barua, Manyema, Bakusu, Ba-Samha, and Utotera slaves; most of these slaves are armed with flint-locks, the others with formidable spears and shields. There are also about fifty youths, ranging from ten to eighteen years of age, being trained by Tippu-Tib as gun-bearers, house-servants, scouts, cooks, carpenters, house-builders, blacksmiths, and leaders of trading parties. Meanwhile such young fellows are useful to him; they are more trustworthy than adults, because they look up to him as their father; and know that if they left him they would inevitably be captured by a less humane man. The remainder of this motley force consists of women, the wives of Tippu-Tib and his followers. "Two hundred and ten out of the four hundred I have pledged to support until they shall return to Nyangwé, at the same rate of ration currency that may be distributed to the members of our expedition. "On the 6th of November we drew nearer to the dreaded black and chill forest called Mitamba, and at last, bidding farewell to sunshine and brightness, entered it. "We had made one mistake--we had not been up early enough. Tippu-Tib's heterogeneous column of all ages was ahead of us, and its want of order and compactness became a source of trouble to us in the rear. "We, accustomed to rapid marching, had to stand in our places minutes at a time waiting patiently for an advance of a few yards, after which would come another halt, and another short advance, to be again halted. And all this time the trees kept shedding their dew upon us, like rain, in great round drops. Every leaf seemed weeping. Down the boles and branches, creepers and vegetable cords, the moisture trickled and fell on us. Overhead the wide-spreading branches, in many interlaced strata, each branch heavy with broad, thick leaves, absolutely shut out the daylight. We knew not whether it was a sunshiny day or a dull, foggy, gloomy day; for we marched in a feeble, solemn twilight, such as you may experience in temperate climes an hour after sunset. The path soon became a stiff, clayey paste, and at every step we splashed water over the legs of those in front and on either side of us. "To our right and left, to the height of about twenty feet, towered the undergrowth, the lower world of vegetation. The soil on which this thrives is a dark-brown vegetable humus, the _débris_ of ages of rotting leaves and fallen branches, a very forcing-bed of vegetable life, which, constantly fed with moisture, illustrates in an astonishing degree the prolific power of the warm, moist shades of the tropics. "The stiff clay lying under this mould, being impervious, retains the moisture which constantly supplies the millions of tiny roots of herb, plant, and bush. The innumerable varieties of plants which spring up with such marvellous rapidity, if exposed to the gale, would soon be laid prostrate. But what rude blast can visit these imprisoned shades? The tempest might roar without the leafy world, but in its deep bosom there is absolute stillness. One has but to tug at a sapling to know that the loose mould has no retentive power, and that the sapling's roots have not penetrated the clays. Even the giants of the forest have not penetrated very deeply, as one may see by the half-exposed roots; they appear to retain their upright positions more by breadth of base than by their grasp of earth. "Every few minutes we found ourselves descending into ditches, with streams trending towards the Kunda River, discharged out of leafy depths of date-palms, Amoma, Carpodinæ, and Phrynia. Climbing out from these streams, up their steep banks, our faces were brushed by the broad leaves of the Amomum, or the wild banana, ficus of various kinds, and climbing, crawling, obstructing lengths of wild vines. [Illustration: THE EDGE OF THE FOREST.] "Naturally our temper was not improved by this new travelling. The dew dropped and pattered on us incessantly until about 10 A.M. Our clothes were heavily saturated with it. My white sun-helmet and puggaree appeared to be weighted with lead. Being too heavy, and having no use for it in the cool, dank shades, I handed it to my gun-bearer, for my clothes, gaiters, and boots, which creaked loudly with the water that had penetrated them, were sufficient weight for me to move with. Added to this vexation was the perspiration which exuded from every pore, for the atmosphere was stifling. The steam from the hot earth could be seen ascending upward and settling like a gray cloud above our heads. In the early morning it had been so dense that we could scarcely distinguish the various trees by their leafage. "At 3 P.M. we had reached Mpotira, in the district of Uzimba, Manyema, twenty-one miles and a half from the Arab depot on the Lualaba. "The poor boatmen did not arrive until evening, for the boat sections--dreadful burdens--had to be driven like blunted ploughs through the depths of foliage. The men complained bitterly of fatigue, and for their sake we rested at Mpotira. [Illustration: WATER-BOTTLES.] "The nature of the next two days' experiences through the forest may be gathered by reading the following portions of entries in my journal: "'_November_ 8.--N. one half W., nine miles to district of Karindi, or Kionga, Uregga. "'We have had a fearful time of it to-day in these woods, and Bwana Shokka, who has visited this region before, declares with superior pride that what we have experienced as yet is only a poor beginning to the weeks upon weeks which we shall have to endure. Such crawling, scrambling, tearing through the damp, dank jungles, and such height and depth of woods!... Once we obtained a sidelong view, from a tree on the crown of a hill, over the wild woods on our left, which swept in irregular waves of branch and leaf down to the valley of the Lualaba. Across the Lualaba, on the western bank, we looked with wistful eyes on what appeared to be green, grassy plains. Ah! what a contrast to that which we had to endure! It was a wild and weird scene, this outlook we obtained of the top of the leafy world!... It was so dark sometimes in the woods that I could not see the words, recording notes of the track, which I pencilled in my note-book. At 3.30 P.M. we arrived in camp, quite worn out with the struggle through the intermeshed bush, and almost suffocated with the heavy atmosphere. Oh, for a breath of mountain air! "'_November_ 9, 1876.--N. one half W., ten and a half miles' march to Kiussi, Uregga. [Illustration: STOOL OF UREGGA.] "'Another difficult day's work in the forest and jungle. Our expedition is no longer the compact column which was my pride. It is utterly demoralized. Every man scrambles as he best may through the woods; the path, being over a clayey soil, is so slippery that every muscle is employed to assist our progress. The toes grasp the path, the head bears the load, the hand clears the obstructing bush, the elbow puts aside the sapling. Yesterday the boatmen complained so much that I organized all the chiefs into a pioneer party, with axes, to clear the path. Of course we could not make a wide road. There were many prostrate giants fallen across the path, each with a mountain of twigs and branches, compelling us to cut roads through the bush a long distance to get round them. My boat-bearers are utterly wearied out.' [Illustration: UREGGA HOUSE.] [Illustration: SPOONS OF UREGGA.] "On the 10th we halted for a well-deserved rest. We were now in Uregga--the forest country. Fenced round by their seldom-penetrated woods, the Waregga have hitherto led lives as secluded as the troops of chimpanzees in their forest. Their villages consist of long rows of houses, all connected together in one block from fifty yards to three hundred yards in length. The doorways are square apertures in the walls, only two feet square, and cut at about eighteen inches above the ground. Within the long block is divided into several apartments for the respective families. Like the Manyema houses, the roofs glisten as though smeared with coal-tar. There are shelves for fuel, and netting for swinging their crockery; into the roof are thrust the various small knick-knacks which such families need--the pipe and bunch of tobacco-leaves, the stick of dried snails, various mysterious compounds wrapped in leaves of plants, pounded herbs, and what not. Besides these we noted, as household treasures, the skins of goats, mongoose or civet, weasel, wild cat, monkey, and leopard, shells of land-snails, very large and prettily marked, and necklaces of the _Achatina monetaria_. There is also quite a store of powdered camwood, besides curiously carved bits of wood, supposed to be talismans against harm, and handsome spoons, while over the door are also horns of goats and small forest deer, and, occupying conspicuous places, the gaudy war head-dress of feathers of the gray-bodied and crimson-tailed parrots, the drum, and some heavy, broad-bladed spears with ironwood staffs. [Illustration: UREGGA SPEAR.] [Illustration: CANE SETTEE.] "In the 'arts and sciences' of savage life, these exceedingly primitive Africans, buried though they have been from all intercourse with others, are superior in some points to many tribes more favorably situated. For instance, until the day I arrived at Kiussi village, I had not observed a settee. Yet in the depths of this forest of Uregga every family possessed a neatly made water-cane settee, which would seat comfortably three persons. [Illustration: BENCH.] "Another very useful article of furniture was the bench four or five feet long, cut out of a single log of the white soft wood of one of the Rubiaceæ, and significant as showing a more sociable spirit than that which seems to govern Eastern Africans, among whom the rule is, 'Every man to his own stool.' [Illustration: BACK-REST.] "Another noteworthy piece of furniture is the fork of a tree, cut off where the branches begin to ramify. This, when trimmed and peeled, is placed in an inverted position. The branches, sometimes three, or even four, serve as legs of a singular back-rest. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN FEZ OF LEOPARD-SKIN.] "All the adult males wear skull-caps of goat or monkey-skin, except the chief and elders, whose heads were covered with the aristocratic leopard-skin, with the tail of the leopard hanging down the back like a tassel. "The women were weighted with massive and bright iron rings. One of them, who was probably a lady of importance, carried at least twelve pounds of iron and five pounds of copper rings on her arms and legs, besides a dozen necklaces of the indigenous _Achatina monetaria_. "From Kiussi, through the same dense jungle and forest, with its oppressive atmosphere and its soul-wearying impediments, we made a journey of fourteen miles to Mirimo. It is a populous settlement, and its people are good-natured. "For several days we struggled on through the terrible forest. The Wangwana began to murmur loudly, while the boatmen, though assisted by a dozen supernumeraries and preceded by a gang of pioneers, were becoming perfectly savage; but the poor fellows had certainly cause for discontent. I pitied them from my soul, yet I dared not show too great a solicitude, lest they should have presumed upon it, and requested me either to return to Nyangwé or to burn my boat. "Even Tippu-Tib, whom I anxiously watched, as on him I staked all my hopes and prospects, murmured. The evil atmosphere created sickness in the Arab escort, but all my people maintained their health, if not their temper. The constant slush and reek which the heavy dews caused in the forest had worn my shoes out, and half of the march on the fifteenth of November I travelled with naked feet. I had then to draw out of my store my last pair of shoes. Frank was already using his last pair. Yet we were still in the very centre of the continent. What should we do when all were gone? was a question which we asked of each other often. "The faces of the people, Arabs, Wangwana, Wanyamwezi, and the escort, were quite a study at the camp. All their courage was oozing out, as day by day we plodded through the doleful, dreary forest. We saw a python ten feet long, a green viper, and a monstrous puff-adder on this march, besides scores of monkeys, of the white-necked or glossy-black species, as also the small gray, and the large howling baboons. We heard also the 'soko,' or chimpanzee, and saw one 'nest' belonging to it in the fork of a tall bombax. A lemur was also observed; its loud, harsh cries made each night hideous. [Illustration: PRICKLES OF THE ACACIA PLANT.] "The path presented myriapedes, black and brown, six inches in length; while beetles were innumerable, and armies of the deep-brown 'hot-water' ants compelled us to be cautious how we stepped. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN ANT.] "The difficulties of such travel as we had now commenced may be imagined when a short march of six miles and a half occupied the twenty-four men who were carrying the boat-sections an entire day, and so fatigued them that we had to halt a day to recruit their exhausted strength. "The terrible undergrowth that here engrossed all the space under the shade of the pillared bombax and mastlike mvulé was a miracle of vegetation. It consisted of ferns, spear-grass, water-cane, and orchidaceous plants, mixed with wild vines, cable thicknesses of the _Ficus elastica_, and a sprinkling of mimosas, acacias, tamarinds; llianes, palms of various species, wild date, _Raphia vinifera_, the elais, the fan, rattans, and a hundred other varieties, all struggling for every inch of space, and swarming upward with a luxuriance and density that only this extraordinary hothouse atmosphere could nourish. We had certainly seen forests before, but this scene was an epoch in our lives ever to be remembered for its bitterness; the gloom enhanced the dismal misery of our life; the slopping moisture, the unhealthy reeking atmosphere, and the monotony of the scenes; nothing but the eternal interlaced branches, the tall aspiring stems, rising from a tangle through which we had to burrow and crawl like wild animals, on hands and feet. "One morning, when we were encamped at a village called Wane-Kirumbu, Tippu-Tib and the Arabs came to my hut. After a long preamble, wherein he described the hardships of the march, Tippu-Tib concluded by saying that he had come to announce his wish that our contract should be dissolved! [Illustration: MARABOUTS, STORKS, AND PELICANS IN THE FOREST LAKES.] "In a moment it flashed on my mind that a crisis had arrived. Was the expedition to end here? I urged with all my powers the necessity for keeping engagements so deliberately entered into. "For two hours I plied him with arguments, and at last, when I was nearly exhausted, Tippu-Tib consented to accompany me twenty marches farther, beginning from the camp we were then in. It was a fortunate thing indeed for me that he agreed to this, as his return so close to Nyangwé in the present dispirited condition of my people's minds would have undoubtedly insured the destruction of all my hopes. "The natives of Uregga are not liberally disposed. Wane-Kirumbu's chief was the first who consented to exchange gifts with me. He presented me with a chicken and some bananas, and I reciprocated the gift with five cowries, which he accepted without a murmur. On witnessing this pleasing and most uncommon trait of moderation, I presented him with ten more, which appeared to him so bounteous that he left my presence quite affected, indeed almost overcome by his emotions of gratitude. "The men of these forest communities of Uregga, upon the decease of their wives, put on symbols of mourning, namely, a thick daub of charcoal paste over the face, which they retain for five 'years'--two and a half European years. Widows also mourn for their husbands a like period, with the same disfigurement of features, but with the addition of bands of sere leaf of the banana round the forehead. [Illustration: A FORGE AND SMITHY AT WANE-KIRUMBU, UREGGA.] At Wane-Kirumbu we found a large native forge and smithy, where there were about a dozen smiths busily at work. The iron ore is very pure. Here were the broad-bladed spears of southern Uregga, and the equally broad knives of all sizes, from the small waist-knife, an inch and a half in length, to the heavy Roman swordlike cleaver. The bellows for the smelting-furnace are four in number, double-handled, and manned by four men, who, by a quick up-and-down motion, supply a powerful blast, the noise of which is heard nearly half a mile from the scent. The furnace consists of tamped clay, raised into a mound about four feet high. A hollow is then excavated in it, two feet in diameter and two feet deep. From the middle of the slope four apertures are excavated into the base of the furnace, into which are fitted funnel-shaped earthenware pipes to convey the blasts to the fire. At the base of the mound a wide aperture for the hearth is excavated, penetrating below the furnace. The hearth receives the dross and slag. "Close by stood piled up mat-sacks of charcoal, with a couple of boys ready to supply the fuel, and about two yards off was a smaller smithy, where the iron was shaped into hammers, axes, war-hatchets, spears, knives, swords, wire, iron balls with spikes, leglets, armlets, iron beads, etc. The art of the blacksmith is of a high standard in these forests, considering the loneliness of the inhabitants. The people have much traditional lore, and it appears from the immunity which they have enjoyed in these dismal retreats that from one generation to another something has been communicated and learned, showing that even the jungle man is a progressive and improvable animal. "On the 17th of November we crossed several lofty, hilly ridges, and after a march of eleven miles northwesterly through the dank, dripping forests, arrived at Kampunzu, in the district of Uvinza, where dwell the true aborigines of the forest country. "Kampunzu village is about five hundred yards in length, formed of one street thirty feet wide, flanked on each side by a straight, symmetrical, and low block of houses, gable-roofed. Several small villages in the neighborhood are of the same pattern. "The most singular feature of Kampunzu village were two rows of skulls ten feet apart, running along the entire length of the village, imbedded about two inches deep in the ground, the 'cerebral hemispheres' uppermost, bleached, and glistening white from weather. The skulls were one hundred and eighty-six in number in this one village. To me they appeared to be human, though many had an extraordinary projection of the posterior lobes, others of the parietal bones, and the frontal bones were unusually low and retreating; yet the sutures and the general aspect of the greatest number of them were so similar to what I believed to be human that it was almost with an indifferent air that I asked my chiefs and Arabs what these skulls were. They replied, 'sokos'--chimpanzees(?). "'Sokos from the forest?' "'Certainly,' they all replied. "'Bring the chief of Kampunzu to me immediately,' I said, much interested now because of the wonderful reports of them that Livingstone had given me, as also the natives of Manyema. "The chief of Kampunzu--a tall, strongly-built man of about thirty-five years of age--appeared, and I asked, "'My friend, what are those things with which you adorn the street of your village?' "He replied, 'Nyama' (meat). "'Nyama! Nyama of what?' "'Nyama of the forest.' "'Of the forest! What kind of thing is this Nyama of the forest?' "'It is about the size of this boy,' pointing to Mabruki, my gun-bearer, who was four feet ten inches in height. 'He walks like a man, and goes about with a stick, with which he beats the trees in the forest, and makes hideous noises. The Nyama eat our bananas, and we hunt them, kill them, and eat them. "'Are they good eating?' I asked. "He laughed, and replied that they were very good. "'Would you eat one if you had one now?' "'Indeed I would. Shall a man refuse meat?' "'Well, look here. I have one hundred cowries here. Take your men and catch one, and bring him to me, alive or dead. I only want his skin and head. You may have the meat.' "Kampunzu's chief, before he set out with his men, brought me a portion of the skin of one, which probably covered the back. The fur was dark gray, an inch long, with the points inclined to white; a line of darker hair marked the spine. This, he assured me, was a portion of the skin of a 'soko.' He also showed me a cap made out of it, which I purchased. [Illustration: A YOUNG "SOKO" SITTING FOR HIS PORTRAIT.] "The chief returned about evening unsuccessful from the search. He wished us to remain two or three days, that he might set traps for the 'sokos,' as they would be sure to visit the bananas at night. Not being able to wait so many days, I obtained for a few cowries the skull of a male and another of a female. "These two skulls were safely brought to England and shown to Professor Huxley, who passed judgment upon them as follows: [Illustration: HEAD OF THE GORILLA.] "'Of the two skulls submitted to me for examination, the one is that of a man probably somewhat under thirty years of age, and the other that of a woman over fifty. Nothing in these skulls justifies the supposition that their original possessors differed in any sensible degree from the ordinary African negro.' "Professor Huxley thus startles me with the proof that Kampunzu's people were cannibals, for at least one half the number of skulls seen by me bore the mark of a hatchet, which had been driven into the head while the victims were alive. "In this village were also observed those carved benches cut out of the Rubiaceæ already mentioned, backgammon trays, and stools carved in the most admirable manner, all being decorated around the edges of the seats with brass tacks and 'soko' teeth. [Illustration: BACKGAMMON TRAY.] "The women of Uregga wear only aprons, of bark or grass-cloth, fastened by cords of palm fibre. The men wear skins of civet, or monkey, in front and rear, the tails downward. It may have been from a hasty glance of a rapidly disappearing form of one of these people in the wild woods that native travellers in the lake regions felt persuaded that they had seen 'men with tails.' "On the 19th a march of five miles through the forest west from Kampunzu brought us to the Lualaba, in south latitude 3° 35', just forty-one geographical miles north of the Arab depot Nyangwé. An afternoon observation for longitude showed east longitude 25° 49'. The name Lualaba terminates here. I mean to speak of it henceforth as THE LIVINGSTONE. "The Livingstone was twelve hundred yards wide from bank to bank opposite the landing-place of Kampunzu. As there were no people dwelling within a mile of the right bank, we prepared to encamp. My tent was pitched about thirty feet from the river, on a grassy spot; Tippu-Tib and his Arabs were in the bushes; while the five hundred and fifty people of whom the expedition consisted began to prepare a site for their huts, by enlarging the open space around the landing place. "While my breakfast (for noon) was cooking, and my tent was being drawn taut and made trim, a mat was spread on a bit of short grass, soft as an English lawn, a few yards from the water. Some sedgy reeds obstructed my view, and as I wished while resting to watch the river gliding by, I had them all cropped off short. "Frank and the Wangwana chiefs were putting the boat-sections together in the rear of the camp; I was busy thinking, planning a score of things--what time it would be best to cross the river, how we should commence our acquaintance with the warlike tribes on the left bank, what our future would be, how I should succeed in conveying our large force across, and, in the event of a determined resistance, what we should do, etc. "Gentle as a summer's dream, the brown wave of the great Livingstone flowed by, broad and deep. On the opposing bank loomed darkly against the sky another forest, similar to the one which had harrowed our souls. I obtained from my seat a magnificent view of the river, flanked by black forests, gliding along, with a serene grandeur and an unspeakable majesty of silence about it that caused my heart to yearn towards it. "Downward it flows to the unknown! to night-black clouds of mystery and fable, mayhap past the lands of the anthropoids, the pigmies, and the blanket-eared men of whom the gentle pagan king of Karagwé spoke, by leagues upon leagues of unexplored lands, populous with scores of tribes, of whom not a whisper has reached the people of other continents; perhaps that fabulous being, the dread Macoco, of whom Bartolomeo Diaz, Cada Mosto, and Dapper have written, is still represented by one who inherits his ancient kingdom and power, and surrounded by barbarous pomp. Something strange must surely lie in the vast space occupied by total blankness on our maps between Nyangwé and "Tuckey's Farthest!" "'I seek a road to connect these two points. We have labored through the terrible forest, and manfully struggled through the gloom. My people's hearts have become faint. I seek a road. Why, here lies a broad watery avenue cleaving the Unknown to some sea, like a path of light! Here are woods all around, sufficient for a thousand fleets of canoes. Why not build them?' "I sprang up; told the drummer to call to muster. The people responded wearily to the call. Frank and the chiefs appeared. The Arabs and their escort came also, until a dense mass of expectant faces surrounded me. I turned to them and said, [Illustration: IN FULL STYLE.] "Arabs! sons of Unyamwezi! children of Zanzibar! listen to words. We have seen the Mitamba of Uregga. We have tasted its bitterness, and have groaned in spirit. We seek a road. We seek something by which we may travel. I seek a path that shall take me to the sea. I have found it.' "Ah! ah--h!' and murmurs and inquiring looks at one another. "'Yes! El hamd ul Illah. I have found it. Regard this mighty river. From the beginning it has flowed on thus, as you see it flow to-day. It has flowed on in silence and darkness. Whither? To the salt sea, as all rivers go! By that salt sea, on which the great ships come and go, live my friends and your friends. Do they not? "Cries of 'Yes! yes!' "'Yet, my people, though this river is so great, so wide and deep, no man has ever penetrated the distance lying between this spot on which we stand and our white friends who live by the salt sea. Why? Because it was left for us to do.' "'Ah, no! no! no!' and desponding shakes of the head. "'Yes,' I continued, raising my voice; 'I tell you, my friends, it has been left from the beginning of time until to-day for us to do. It is our work, and no other. It is the voice of Fate! The One God has written that this year the river shall be known throughout its length! We will have no more Mitambas; we will have no more panting and groaning by the wayside; we will have no more hideous darkness; we will take to the river, and keep to the river. To-day I shall launch my boat on that stream, and it shall never leave it until I finish my work. I swear it. "'Now, you Wangwana! You who have followed me through Turu, and sailed around the great lakes with me; you, who have followed me, like children following their father, through Unyoro, and down to Ujiji, and as far as this wild, wild land, will you leave me here? Shall I and my white brother go alone? Will you go back and tell my friends that you left me in this wild spot, and cast me adrift to die? Or will you, to whom I have been so kind, whom I love as I would love my children, will you bind me, and take me back by force? Speak, Arabs? Where are my young men, with hearts of lions? Speak, Wangwana, and show me those who dare follow me?' "Uledi, the coxswain, leaped upward, and then sprang towards me, and kneeling grasped my knees, and said, 'Look on me, my master! I am one! I will follow you to death!' 'And I,' Kachéché cried; 'and I, and I, and I,' shouted the boat's crew. "'It is well. I knew I had friends. You, then, who have cast your lot with me stand on one side, and let me count you.' "There were thirty-eight! Ninety-five stood still, and said nothing. "'I have enough. Even with you, my friends, I shall reach the sea. But there is plenty of time. We have not yet made our canoes. We have not yet parted with the Arabs. We have yet a long distance to travel with Tippu-Tib. We may meet with good people, from whom we may buy canoes. And by the time we part I am sure that the ninety-five men now fearing to go with us will not leave their brothers, and their master and his white brother, to go down the river without them. Meantime I give you many thanks, and shall not forget your names.' [Illustration: A TRIBUTARY RIVER.] "The assembly broke up, and each man proceeded about his special duties. Tippu-Tib, Sheik Abdallah, and Muini Ibrahim sat on the mat, and commenced to try to persuade me not to be so rash, and to abandon all idea of descending the river. In my turn I requested them not to speak like children, and, however they might think, not to disclose their fears to the Wangwana; but rather to encourage them to do their duty, and share the dangers with me, because the responsibility was all my own, and the greatest share of danger would be mine; and that I would be in front to direct and guide, and save, and for my own sake as well as for their sake would be prudent. "In reply, they spoke of cataracts and cannibals and warlike tribes. They depreciated the spirit of the Wangwana, and declaimed against men who were once slaves; refused to concede one virtue to them, either of fidelity, courage, or gratitude, and predicted that the end would be death to all. [Illustration: WANGWANA WOMEN.] "'Speak no more, Tippu-Tib. You who have travelled all your life among slaves have not yet learned that there lies something good in the heart of every man that God made. Men were not made all bad, as you say. For God is good, and he made all men. I have studied my people; I know them and their ways. It will be my task to draw the good out of them while they are with me; and the only way to do it is to be good to them, for good produces good. As you value my friendship, and hope to receive money from me, be silent. Speak not a word of fear to my people, and when we part I shall make known my name to you. To you, and to all who are my friends, I shall be "the white man with the open hand." But if not, then I shall be "Kipara-moto."' "While I had been speaking, a small canoe with two men was seen advancing from the opposite bank. One of the interpreters was called, and told to speak to them quietly, and to ask them to bring canoes to take us across. "We had a long parley, but it resulted in nothing. The natives refused to ferry us over the river at any price, and on the way back they set up a war-cry which resounded through the forest, and was repeated from many points. Meantime my people were putting the _Lady Alice_ in readiness, and by the time I had finished my breakfast the _Lady Alice_ was in the river, and a loud shout of applause greeted her appearance on the water. "The boat's crew, with Uledi as coxswain, and Tippu-Tib, Sheik Abdallah, Muini Ibrahim, Bwana Abed (the guide), Muni Jumah, and two interpreters and myself as passengers, entered the boat. We were rowed up the river for half an hour, and then struck across to a small island in mid-stream. With the aid of a glass I examined the shores, which from our camp appeared to be dense forest. We saw that there were about thirty canoes tied to the bank, and among the trees I detected several houses. The bank was crowded with human beings, who were observing our movements. "We re-entered our boat and pulled straight across to the left bank, then floated down slowly with the current, meantime instructing the interpreters as to what they should say to the Wenya. "When we came opposite, an interpreter requested them to take a look at the white man who had come to visit their country, who wished to make friends with them, who would give them abundance of shells, and allow none of his men to appropriate a single banana, or do violence to a single soul; not a leaf would be taken, nor a twig burned, without being paid for. "The natives, gazing curiously at me, promised, after a consultation, that if we made blood-brotherhood with them there should be no trouble, and that for this purpose the white chief, accompanied by ten men, should proceed early next morning to the island, where he would be met by the chief of the Wenya and his ten men; and that, after the ceremony, all the canoes should cross and assist to carry our people to their country. "After thanking them, we returned to camp, highly elated with our success. At 4 A.M., however, the boat secretly conveyed twenty men with Kachéché, who had orders to hide in the brushwood, and, returning to camp at 7 A.M., conveyed Frank and ten men, who were to perform the ceremony of brotherhood, to the island. On its return I entered the boat, and was rowed a short way up stream along the right bank, so that, in case of treachery, I might be able to reach the island within four minutes to lend assistance. [Illustration: SOME OF THE PEOPLE ON SHORE.] "About 9 A.M. six canoes full of men were seen to paddle to the island. We saw them arrive before it, and finally draw near. Earnestly and anxiously I gazed through my glass at every movement. Other canoes were seen advancing to the island. A few seconds after the latest arrivals had appeared on the scene, I saw great animation, and almost at once those curious cries came pealing up the river. There were animated shouts, and a swaying of bodies, and, unable to wait longer, we dashed towards the island, and the natives on seeing us approach paddled quickly to their landing-place. "'Well, Frank, what was the matter?' I asked. "'I never saw such wretches in my life, sir. When that last batch of canoes came, their behavior, which was decent before, changed. They surrounded us. Half of them remained in the canoes; those on land began to abuse us violently, handling their spears, and acting so furiously that if we had not risen with our guns ready they would have speared us as we were sitting down waiting to begin the ceremony. But Kachéché, seeing their wild behavior and menacing gestures, advanced quietly from the brushwood with his men, on seeing which they ran to their canoes, where they held their spears ready to launch when you came.' "'Well, no harm has been done yet,' I replied; 'so rest where you are, while I take Kachéché and his men across to their side, where a camp will be formed; because, if we delay to-day crossing, we shall have half of the people starving by to-morrow morning.' "After embarking Kachéché, we steered for a point in the woods above the native village, and, landing thirty men with axes, proceeded to form a small camp, which might serve as a nucleus until we should be enabled to transport the expedition. We then floated down river opposite the village, and, with the aid of an interpreter, explained to them that as we had already landed thirty men in their country, it would be far better that they should assist us in the ferriage, for which they might feel assured that they would be well paid. At the same time I tossed a small bag of beads to them. In a few minutes they consented, and six canoes, with two men in each, accompanied us to camp. The six canoes and the boat conveyed eighty people safely to the left bank; and then other canoes, animated by the good understanding that seemed to prevail between us, advanced to assist, and by night every soul associated with our expedition was rejoicing by genial camp-fires in the villages of the Wenya." It was now time to adjourn the meeting of the _Eider_'s Geographical Society. Fred briefly announced that the reading would be continued in the evening, and immediately the little party proceeded to a promenade on deck, where they discussed the narrative to which they had just listened, and wondered what happened next. CHAPTER XI. HOW STANLEY OBTAINED CANOES.--THE PEOPLE OF UKUSU.--THEIR HOSTILITY.--A FIGHT AND TERMS OF PEACE.--SEPARATION FROM TIPPU-TIB.--DEPARTURE "TOWARDS THE UNKNOWN."--A SAD FAREWELL.--AMONG THE VINYA-NARA.--THE NATIVES AT STANLEY FALLS.--A FIERCE BATTLE.--DEFENDING A STOCKADE.--BOATS CAPSIZED IN A TEMPEST AND MEN DROWNED.--BEGINNING OF THE NEW YEAR.--A BATTLE ON THE WATER.--MONSTER CANOES.--AMONG THE MWANA NTABA.--THE NATIVES ARE DEFEATED.--FIRST CATARACT OF STANLEY FALLS.--CAMPED IN A FORTIFICATION. "Mr. Stanley's hope of obtaining canoes was soon realized," said Fred, when the party assembled in the evening, "but he suffered greatly before he secured them. Small-pox and other diseases carried off many of his people; the natives at first refused all offers of peace, and would sell no provisions. At the rapids of Ukassa, near the mouth of the Ruiki River, a fleet of canoes came to attack him, but the savages retreated when they found the strangers were ready to fight. [Illustration: CANOES IN THE MOUTH OF THE RUIKI RIVER.] "He found some old and abandoned canoes which his men repaired; and with these canoes and the _Lady Alice_ he transported a part of his force, while the remainder went by land. The banks of the river were densely peopled, and the houses in the villages showed a considerable advance towards civilization. Many of the villages were built in regular streets, and some of these streets were fully two miles long. From a native, who was made prisoner, Mr. Stanley learned that he was in the district called Ukusu, and that the people would not permit strangers to pass along the river. The river was about seventeen hundred yards wide, and thickly studded in many places with islands densely covered with trees and undergrowth. [Illustration: WAR-HATCHET OF UKUSU.] "The houses were of various patterns, but all of a single story in height. Most of them were mere double cages, made very elegantly of the panicum grass cane, seven feet long by five feet wide and six feet high, separated, as regards the main building, but connected by the roof, so that the central apartments were common to both cages, and in these the families meet and perform their household duties, or receive their friends for social chat. Near each village was the burial-place or vault of its preceding kings, roofed over, with the leaves of the _Phrynium ramosissimum_, which appears to be as useful a plant for many reasons as the banana to the Waganda. [Illustration: STOOL OF UKUSU.] "At one of the villages a large number of natives attacked the expedition, which had taken position and built a stockade close to the river's bank. Thousands of poisoned arrows came whizzing into the stockade, and hundreds of spears were thrown, but the rifles of the expedition held the savages at bay. When the day ended, the negroes retired to the opposite side of the river, where they tied their canoes to the bank. During the night Mr. Stanley and Frank Pocock crossed the river with the _Lady Alice_ and their large canoe; one by one the canoes of the natives were silently secured and taken away to the number of thirty-eight, and when the natives woke in the morning, they were probably never more astonished in their lives. [Illustration: STEW-POT OF THE WAHIKA.] "A peace was negotiated, and terms of blood-brotherhood were made. Mr. Stanley returned fifteen of the canoes, and retained twenty-three as an equivalent for the losses he had sustained in the attack. He had a sufficient number of boats now for his purpose. [Illustration: ENCOUNTER WITH A GORILLA.] "Tippu-Tib announced that he would go no farther. Mr. Stanley released him from his engagement, on condition that he would use his influence with the members of the expedition to remain with it. A satisfactory settlement was made with Tippu-Tib and his people; farewell feasts were given, and everything seemed favorable for the future. Provisions for twenty days were prepared, the men were assigned to the boats, and, to make the fleet as much like a civilized one as possible, each boat received a name. Here is the list: 1. The exploring boat, Lady Alice. 13. London Town. 2. Ocean, commanded by Frank. 14. America. 3. Livingstone. 15. Hart. 4. Stanley. 16. Daphne. 5. Telegraph. 17. Lynx. 6. Herald. 18. Nymph. 7. Jason. 19. Vulture. 8. Argo. 20. Shark. 9. Penguin. 21. Arab. 10. Wolverine. 22. Mirambo. 11. Fawn. 23. Mtesa. 12. Glasgow (flag-ship, commanded by Manwa Sera). [Illustration: A HOUSE OF TWO ROOMS.] "And now," said Fred, "we will hear Mr. Stanley's story of how they set out on their adventurous voyage: "The crisis drew nigh when the 28th of December dawned. A gray mist hung over the river, so dense that we could not see even the palmy banks on which Vinya-Njara was situated. It would have been suicidal to begin our journey on such a gloomy morning. The people appeared as cheerless and dismal as the foggy day. We cooked our breakfasts in order to see if, by the time we had fortified the soul by satisfying the cravings of the stomach, the river and its shores might not have resumed their usual beautiful outlines, and their striking contrasts of light and shadow. [Illustration: CANOE SCOOP.] "Slowly the breeze wafted the dull and heavy mists away until the sun appeared, and bit by bit the luxuriantly wooded banks rose up solemn and sad. Finally the gray river was seen, and at 9 A.M. its face gleamed with the brightness of a mirror. [Illustration: SCOOPS.] "'Embark, my friends! Let us at once away! and a happy voyage to us.' [Illustration: "TOWARD THE UNKNOWN."] "The drum and trumpet proclaimed to Tippu-Tib's expectant ears that we were ascending the river. In half an hour we were pulling across to the left bank, and when we reached it, a mile above Vinya-Njara, we rested on our oars. The strong brown current soon bore us down within hearing of a deep and melodious diapason of musical voices chanting the farewell song. How beautiful it sounded to us as we approached them! The dense jungle and forest seemed to be penetrated with the vocal notes, and the river to bear them tenderly towards us. Louder the sad notes swelled on our ears, full of a pathetic and mournful meaning. With bated breath we listened to the rich music which spoke to us unmistakably of parting, of sundered friendship, a long, perhaps an eternal, farewell. We came in view of them, as, ranged along the bank in picturesque costume, the sons of Unyamwezi sang their last song. We waved our hands to them. Our hearts were so full of grief that we could not speak. Steadily the brown flood bore us by, and fainter and fainter came the notes down the water, till finally they died away, leaving us all alone on the great river. [Illustration: COIL OF PLAITED ROPE, CENTRAL AFRICA.] "But, looking up, I saw the gleaming portal to the Unknown: wide open to us and away down, for miles and miles, the river lay stretched with all the fascination of its mystery. I stood up and looked at the people. How few they appeared to dare the region of fable and darkness! They were nearly all sobbing. They were leaning forward, bowed, as it seemed, with grief and heavy hearts. "'Sons of Zanzibar,' I shouted, 'the Arabs and the Wanyemwezi are looking at you. They are now telling one another what brave fellows you are. Lift up your heads and be men. What is there to fear? All the world is smiling with joy. Here we are all together like one family, with hearts united, all strong with the purpose to reach our homes. See this river; it is the road to Zanzibar. When saw you a road so wide? When did you journey along a path like this? Strike your paddles deep, cry out Bismillah! and let us forward.' "Poor fellows! with what wan smiles they responded to my words! How feebly they paddled! But the strong flood was itself bearing us along, and the Vinya-Njara villages were fast receding into distance. "Then I urged my boat's crew, knowing that thus we should tempt the canoes to quicker pace. Three or four times Uledi, the coxswain, gallantly attempted to sing, in order to invite a cheery chorus, but his voice soon died into such piteous hoarseness that the very ludicrousness of the tones caused his young friends to smile even in the midst of their grief. "We knew that the Vinya-Njara district was populous from the numbers of natives that fought with us by land and water, but we had no conception that it was so thickly populated as the long row of villages we now saw indicated. I counted fourteen separate villages, each with its respective growth of elais palm and banana, and each separated from the other by thick bush. "Every three or four miles there were small villages visible on either bank, but we met with no disturbance, fortunately. At 5 P.M. we made for a small village called Kali-Karero, and camped there, the natives having retired peacefully. In half an hour they returned, and the ceremony of brotherhood was entered upon, which insured a peaceful night. The inhabitants of Rukura, opposite us, also approached us with confidence, and an interchange of small gifts served us as a healthy augury for the future. "On the morning of the 29th, accompanied by a couple of natives in a small fishing-canoe, we descended the river along the left bank, and, after about four miles, arrived at the confluence of the Kasuku, a dark-water stream of a hundred yards' width at the mouth. Opposite the mouth, at the southern end of Kaimba--a long wooded island on the right bank, and a little above the confluence--stands the important village of Kisanga-Sanga. "Below Kaimba Island and its neighbor, the Livingstone assumes a breadth of eighteen hundred yards. The banks are very populous: the villages of the left bank comprise the district of Luavala. We thought for some time we should be permitted to pass by quietly, but soon the great wooden drums, hollowed out of huge trees, thundered the signal along the river that there were strangers. In order to lessen all chances of a rupture between us, we sheered off to the middle of the river, and quietly lay on our paddles. But from both banks at once, in fierce concert, the natives, with their heads gayly feathered, and armed with broad black wooden shields and long spears, dashed out towards us. [Illustration: WAR-DRUMS OF THE TRIBES OF THE UPPER LIVINGSTONE.] "Tippu-Tib before our departure had hired to me two young men of Ukusu--cannibals--as interpreters. These were now instructed to cry out the word 'Sennenneh' ('Peace!'), and to say that we were friends. "But they would not reply to our greeting, and in a bold, peremptory manner told us to return. "'But we are doing no harm, friends. It is the river that takes us down, and the river will not stop, or go back.' "'This is our river.' "'Good. Tell it to take us back, and we will go.' "'If you do not go back, we will fight you.' "'No, don't; we are friends.' "'We don't want you for our friends; we will eat you.' "But we persisted in talking to them, and, as their curiosity was so great, they persisted in listening, and the consequence was that the current conveyed us near to the right bank; and in such near neighborhood to another district that our discourteous escort had to think of themselves, and began to skurry hastily up river, leaving us unattacked. "The villages on the right bank also maintained a tremendous drumming and blowing of war-horns, and their wild men hurried up with menace towards us, urging their sharp-prowed canoes so swiftly that they seemed to skim over the water like flying fish. Unlike the Luavala villagers, they did not wait to be addressed, but as soon as they came within fifty or sixty yards they shot out their spears, crying out, 'Meat! meat! Ah! ha! We shall have plenty of meat!' "There was a fat-bodied wretch in a canoe, whom I allowed to crawl within spear-throw of me; who, while he swayed the spear with a vigor far from assuring to one who stood within reach of it, leered with such a clever hideousness of feature that I felt, if only within arm's-length of him, I could have bestowed upon him a hearty thump on the back, and cried out applaudingly, 'Bravo, old boy! You do it capitally!' [Illustration: VILLAGE SCENE.] "Yet not being able to reach him, I was rapidly being fascinated by him. The rapid movements of the swaying spear, the steady, wide-mouthed grin, the big square teeth, the head poised on one side with the confident pose of a practised spear-thrower, the short brow and square face, hair short and thick. Shall I ever forget him? It appeared to me as if the spear partook of the same cruel, inexorable look as the grinning savage. Finally, I saw him draw his right arm back, and his body incline backward, with still that same grin on his face, and I felt myself begin to count, one, two, three, four--and _whiz_! The spear flew over my back, and hissed as it pierced the water. The spell was broken. "It was only five minutes' work clearing the river. We picked up several shields, and I gave orders that all shields should be henceforth religiously preserved, for the idea had entered my head that they would answer capitally as bulwarks for our canoes. An hour after this we passed close to the confluence of the Urindi--a stream four hundred yards in width at the mouth, and deep with water of a light color, and tolerably clear. "We continued down river along the right bank, and at 4 P.M. camped in a dense low jungle, the haunt of the hippopotamus and elephant during the dry season. When the river is in flood a much larger tract must be under water. "The traveller's first duty in lands infested by lions and leopards is to build a safe corral, kraal, or boma, for himself, his oxen, horses, servants; and in lands infested like Usongora Meno and Kasera--wherein we now were--by human lions and leopards, the duty became still more imperative. We drew our canoes, therefore, half-way upon the banks, and our camp was in the midst of an impenetrable jungle. "At dawn we embarked, and descended about two miles, close to the right bank, when, lo! the broad mouth of the magnificent Lowwa, or Rowwa, River burst upon the view. It was over a thousand yards wide, and its course by compass was from the southeast, or east-southeast true. A sudden rain-storm compelled us to camp on the north bank, and here we found ourselves under the shadows of the primeval forest. [Illustration: MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS AND MODE OF PLAYING.] "About ten o'clock, as we cowered in most miserable condition under the rude, leafy shelters we had hastily thrown up, the people of the wooded bluffs of Iryamba, opposite the Lowwa confluence, came over to see what strange beings were those who had preferred the secrecy of the uninhabited grove to their own loud, roystering society. Stock-still we sat cowering in our leafy coverts, but the mild, reproachful voice of Katembo, our cannibal interpreter, was heard laboring in the interests of peace, brotherhood, and good-will. The rain pattered so incessantly that I could from my position only faintly hear Katembo's voice pleading, earnestly yet mildly, with his unsophisticated brothers of Iryamba, but I felt convinced from the angelic tones that they would act as a sedative on any living creature except a rhinoceros or a crocodile. The long-drawn bleating sound of the word 'Sen-nen-neh,' which I heard frequently uttered by Katembo, I studied until I became quite as proficient in it as he himself. "Peace was finally made between Katembo on the one hand and the canoe-men of Iryamba on the other, and they drew near to gaze at their leisure at one of the sallow white men, who with great hollow eyes peered from under the visor of his cap, on the well-fed, bronze-skinned aborigines. "At 2 P.M. we left our camp in the forest of Luru, and pulled across to the Iryamba side of the Livingstone. But as soon as the rain had ceased a strong breeze had risen, which, when we were in mid-river, increased to a tempest from the north, and created great, heavy waves, which caused the foundering of two of our canoes, the drowning of two of our men, Farjalla Baraka, and Nasib, and the loss of four muskets and one sack of beads. Half a dozen other canoes were in great danger for a time, but no more fatal accidents occurred. "I feared lest this disaster might cause the people to rebel and compel me to return, for it had shocked them greatly; but I was cheered; to hear them remark that the sudden loss of their comrades had been ordained by fate, and that no precautions would have availed to save them. But though omens and auguries were delivered by the pessimists among us, not one hazarded aloud the belief that we ought to relinquish our projects; yet they were all evidently cowed by our sudden misfortune. "On the 31st, the last day of the year 1876, we resumed our voyage. The morning was beautiful, the sky blue and clear, the tall forest still and dark, the river flowed without a ripple, like a solid mass of polished silver. Everything promised fair. But from the island below, the confluence of the Lowwa and the Livingstone, the warning drum sounded loudly over the river, and other drums soon echoed the dull boom. "'Keep together, my men,' I cried, 'there may be hot work for us below.' "We resolved to keep in mid-stream, because both the island and the left bank appeared to be extremely populous, and to paddle slowly and steadily down river. The canoes of the natives darted from either shore, and there seemed to be every disposition made for a furious attack; but as we drew near we shouted out to them, 'Friends, Sennenneh! Keep away from us. We shall not hurt you; but don't lift your spears, or we'll fight.' "There was a moment's hesitation, wherein spears were clashed against shields, and some fierce words uttered, but finally the canoes drew back, and as we continued to paddle, the river with its stiff current soon bore us down rapidly past the populous district and island. "At noon we came to the southern end of an uninhabited low and sandy island, where I ascertained the latitude to be south 1° 20' 3". The altitude, above sea level, of the river at this place is 1729 feet. After descending some five miles we formed our camp in the woods on the right bank. "The beginning of the new year, 1877, commenced, the first three hours after sunrise, with a delicious journey past an uninhabited tract, when my mind, wearied with daily solicitude, found rejoice in dwelling musingly upon the deep slumber of nature. Outwardly the forest was all beauty, solemn peace, and soft, dreamy rest, tempting one to sentiment and mild melancholy. Though it was in vain to endeavor to penetrate with our eyes into the dense wall of forest--black and impervious to the sunlight which almost seemed to burn up the river--what could restrain the imagination? These were my calm hours; periods when my heart, oblivious of the dark and evil days we had passed, resolutely closed itself against all dismal forebodings, and revelled in the exquisite stillness of the uninhabited wilderness. [Illustration: GORILLAS AND NEST.] "But soon after nine o'clock we discovered we were approaching settlements, both on islands and on the banks, and again the hoarse war-drums awakened the echoes of the forest, boomed along the river, and quickened our pulses. "We descend in close order as before, and steadily pursue our way. But, heading us off, about ten long canoes dart out from the shadow of palmy banks, and the wild crews begin to chant their war-songs, and now and then, in attitudes of bravado and defiance, raise spears and shields aloft and bring them downward with sounding clash. "As we approached them we shouted out 'Sen-nen-neh'--our Sesame and Shibboleth, our watchword and countersign. But they would not respond. "Hitherto they had called us Wasambye; we were now called Wajiwa (people of the sun?); our guns were called Katadzi, while before they were styled Kibongeh, or lightning. Katembo was implored to be eloquent, mild of voice, pacific in gesture. "They replied, 'We shall eat Wajiwa meat to-day. Oho, we shall eat Wajiwa meat!' and then an old chief gave some word of command, and at once one hundred paddles beat the water into foam, and the canoes darted at us. But the contest was short, and we were permitted to pursue our voyage. [Illustration: NATIVE PIPE.] "Farther down we met some friendly natives, who told us that we should soon come to the territory of the Mwana Ntaba, with whom we should have to fight; that the Mwana Ntaba people occupied the country as far as the falls; that below the falls were several islands inhabited by the Baswa, who were friends of the Mwana Ntaba. It would be impossible, they said, to go over the falls, as the river swept against a hill, and rolled over it, and tumbled down, down, down, with whirl and uproar, and we should inevitably get lost. It would be far better, they said, for us to return. "About two o'clock, in the afternoon of January 4th, as we were proceeding quietly, our vessels being only about thirty yards from the right bank, eight men with shields darted into view from behind a bush-clump, and, shouting their war-cries, launched their wooden spears. Some of them struck and dinted the boat deeply, others flew over it. We shoved off instantly, and getting into mid-stream found that we had heedlessly exposed ourselves to the watchful tribe of Mwana Ntaba, who immediately sounded their great drums, and prepared their numerous canoes for battle. [Illustration: SCENE ON A TRIBUTARY OF THE GREAT RIVER--LAUNCHING A CANOE.] "Up to this time we had met with no canoes over fifty feet long, but those which now issued from the banks and the shelter of bends in the banks were monstrous. The natives were in full war-paint, one half of their bodies being daubed white, the other half red, with broad black bars, the _tout ensemble_ being unique and diabolical. There was a crocodilian aspect about these lengthy vessels which was far from assuring, while the fighting-men, standing up alternately with the paddlers, appeared to be animated with a most ferocious cat-o'-mountain spirit. Horn-blasts, which reverberated from bank to bank, sonorous drums, and a chorus of loud yells, lent a fierce _éclat_ to the fight in which we were now about to be engaged. [Illustration: MWANA NTABA CANOE (THE "CROCODILE").] "We formed line, and having arranged all our shields as bulwarks for the non-combatants, awaited the first onset with apparent calmness. One of the largest canoes, which we afterwards found to be eighty-five feet three inches in length, rashly made the mistake of singling out the _Lady Alice_ for its victim; but we reserved our fire until it was within fifty feet of us, and after pouring a volley into the crew charged the canoe with the boat, and the crew, unable to turn her round sufficiently soon to escape, precipitated themselves into the river and swam to their friends, while we made ourselves masters of the _Great Eastern_ of the Livingstone. We soon exchanged two of our smaller canoes and manned the monster with thirty men, and resumed our journey in line, the boat in front acting as a guide. This early disaster to the Mwana Ntaba caused them to hurry down river, blowing their horns, and alarming with their drums both shores of the river, until about forty canoes were seen furiously dashing down stream, no doubt bent on mischief. "At 4 P.M. we came opposite a river about two hundred yards wide, which I have called the Leopold River, in honor of His Majesty Leopold II., King of the Belgians, and which the natives called either the Kankora, Mikonju, or Munduku. "Soon after passing by the confluence, the Livingstone, which above had been two thousand five hundred yards wide, perceptibly contracted, and turned sharply to the east-northeast, because of a hill which rose on the left bank about three hundred feet above the river. Close to the elbow of the bend on the right bank we passed by some white granite rocks, from one to six feet above the water, and just below these we heard the roar of the first cataract of the Stanley Falls series. [Illustration: VILLAGE NEAR THE FOREST.] "But louder than the noise of the falls rose the piercing yells of the savage Mwana Ntaba from both sides of the great river. We now found ourselves confronted by the inevitable necessity of putting into practice the resolution which we had formed before setting out on the wild voyage--to conquer or die. What shall we do? Shall we turn and face the fierce cannibals, who with hideous noise drown the solemn roar of the cataract, or shall we cry out, 'Mambu Kwa Mungu' 'Our fate is in the hands of God'--and risk the cataract with its terrors? "Meanwhile we are sliding smoothly to our destruction, and a decision must therefore be arrived at instantly. God knows, I and my fellows would rather have it not to do, because possibly it is only a choice of deaths, by cruel knives or drowning. If we do not choose the knives, which are already sharpened for our throats, death by drowning is certain. So, finding ourselves face to face with the inevitable, we turn to the right bank upon the savages, who are in the woods and on the water. We drop our anchors and begin the fight, but after fifteen minutes of it find that we cannot force them away. We then pull up anchors and ascend stream again, until, arriving at the elbow above mentioned, we strike across the river and divide our forces. Mwana Sera is to take four canoes and to continue up stream a little distance, and, while we occupy the attention of the savages in front, is to lead his men through the woods and set upon them in rear. At 5.30 P.M. we make the attempt, and keep them in play for a few minutes, and on hearing a shot in the woods dash at the shore, and under a shower of spears and arrows effect a landing. From tree to tree the fight is continued until sunset, when, having finally driven the enemy off, we have earned peace for the night. "Until about 10 P.M. we are busy constructing an impenetrable stockade or boma of brushwood, and then at length we lay our sorely fatigued bodies down to rest, without comforts of any kind and without fires, but (I speak for myself only) with a feeling of gratitude to Him who has watched over us in our trouble, and a humble prayer that His protection may be extended to us for the terrible days that may yet be to come." [Illustration: NATIVE CORN-MAGAZINE.] CHAPTER XII. ATTACKED BY THE COMBINED FORCES OF THE MWANA NTABA AND BASWA TRIBES.--THEY ARE REPULSED.--EXPLORING THE FIRST CATARACT.--CARRYING AND DRAGGING THE BOATS THROUGH THE FOREST AND AROUND THE FALLS.--AN ISLAND CAMP.--NATIVE WEAPONS AND UTENSILS.--ANOTHER BATTLE.--HOW ZAIDI WAS SAVED FROM A PERILOUS POSITION.--CAUGHT IN A NET.--HOW THE NET WAS BROKEN.--FISHES IN THE GREAT RIVER.--HOW THE OTHER CATARACTS WERE PASSED.--AFLOAT ON SMOOTH WATER.--A HOSTILE VILLAGE.--ANOTHER BATTLE.--ATTACKED BY A LARGE FLOTILLA.--A MONSTER BOAT.--A TEMPLE OF IVORY.--NO MARKET FOR ELEPHANTS' TUSKS.--EVIDENCES OF CANNIBALISM.--FRIENDLY NATIVES OF RUBUNGA.--PORTUGUESE MUSKETS IN THE HANDS OF THE NATIVES. Fred paused a few moments and then resumed the narrative: "At 4 A.M. of the 5th of January we were awake, cooking betimes the food that was to strengthen us for the task that lay before us, while the screaming lemur and the soko still alarmed the dark forest with their weird cries. [Illustration: AFRICAN STOOL.] "We were left undisturbed until 8 A.M., when the canoes of the Mwana Ntaba were observed to cross over to the left bank, and in response to their signals the forest behind our camp was soon alive with wild men. Frank distributed thirty rounds to each of the forty-three guns which now remained to us. Including my own guns, we possessed only forty-eight altogether, as Manwa Sera had lost four Sniders in the Ukassa Rapid, and by the capsizing of the two canoes in the tempest which struck us as we crossed the Livingstone below its confluence with the Lowwa, we had lost four muskets. But more terrible for our enemies than Sniders or muskets was the courage of despair that now nerved every heart and kept cool and resolute every head. "By river the cannibals had but little chance of success, and this the Mwana Ntaba after a very few rounds from our guns discovered; they therefore allied themselves with the Baswa tribe, which during the night had crossed over from its islands, below the first falls. Until 10 A.M. we held our own safely in the camp, but then, breaking out of it, we charged on the foe, and until 3 P.M. were incessantly at work. Ten of our men received wounds, and two were killed. To prevent them becoming food for the cannibals, we consigned them to the swift brown flood of the Livingstone. "The Mwana Ntaba and the Baswas at length retired, and though we momentarily expected a visit from them each day, for the next two or three days we were unmolested. "Early on the morning of the 6th I began to explore the first cataract of the Stanley Falls. I found a small stream about two hundred yards wide, separated by a lateral dyke of igneous rocks from the main stream, which took the boat safely down for a couple of miles. Then presently other dykes appeared, some mere low, narrow ridges of rock, and others, much larger and producing tall trees, inhabited by the Baswa tribe. Among these islets the left stream rushed down in cascades or foamy sheets, over low terraces, with a fall of from one foot to ten feet. The Baswas, no doubt, had recently fled to these islets to seek refuge from some powerful tribe situated inland west of the river. "The main stream, nine hundred yards wide, rushed towards the east-northeast, and, after a mile of rapids, tilted itself against a hilly ridge that lay north and south, the crest of which was probably three hundred feet above the river. With my glass, from the fork of a tree twenty feet above the ground, I saw at once that a descent by the right side was an impossibility, as the waves were enormous, and the slope so great that the river's face was all a-foam; and that at the base of the hilly ridge which obstructed its course the river seemed piling itself into a watery bank, whence it escaped into a scene of indescribable confusion down to the horror of whirling pools and a mad confluence of tumbling, rushing waters. "I decided, therefore, to go down along the left stream, overland, and to ascertain the best route I took eight men with me, leaving five to guard the boat. Within two hours we had explored the jungle, and 'blazed' a path below the falls--a distance of two miles. "Then, returning to camp, I sent Frank off with a detachment of fifty men with axes to clear the path, and a musket-armed guard of fifteen men, to be stationed in the woods parallel with the projected land route, and, leaving a guard of twenty men to protect the camp, I myself rowed up river along the left bank, a distance of three miles. [Illustration: SPEAR-HEAD.] "By noon of the 7th, having descended with the canoes as near as prudence would permit to the first fall of the left stream, we were ready for hauling the canoes overland. A road, fifteen feet in width, had been cut through the tangle of rattan, palms, vines, creepers, and brushwood, tolerably straight except where great forest monarchs stood untouched, and whatever brushwood had been cut from the jungle had been laid across the road in thick piles. A rude camp had also been constructed half-way on the river side of the road, into which everything was conveyed. By 8 P.M. we had hauled the canoes over one mile of ground. [Illustration: THE KOOLOO-KAMBA, OR LONG EARED SOKO.] "The next day, while the people were still fresh, we buckled on to the canoes, and by 3 P.M. of the 8th had passed the falls and rapids of the first cataract, and were afloat in a calm creek between Baswa Island and the left bank! [Illustration: A BASWA KNIFE.] "Not wishing to stay in such a dangerous locality longer than was absolutely necessary, we re-embarked, and, descending cautiously down the creek, came in a short time to the great river, with every prospect of a good stretch of serene water. But soon we heard the roar of another cataract, and had to hug the left bank closely. Then we entered other creeks, which wound lazily by jungle-covered islets, and, after two miles of meanderings among most dismal islands and banks, emerged in view of the great river, with the cataract's roar sounding solemnly and terribly near. As it was near evening, and our position was extremely unpleasant, we resolved to camp for the night at an island which lay in mid-stream. The inhabitants fled as we approached. [Illustration: STYLE OF KNIVES.] "During the morning of the 9th we explored the island of Cheandoah, where we were encamped, and found it much longer than we at first supposed. It was extremely populous, and contained five villages. We discovered an abundance of spears here and iron-ware of all kinds used by the natives, such as knives, hammers, hatchets, tweezers, anvils of iron, or, in other words, inverted hammers, borers, pole-burners, fish-hooks, darts, iron rods; all the spears possessed broad points, and were the first of this style I had seen. Almost all the knives, large and small, were encased in sheaths of wood covered with goat-skin, and ornamented with polished iron bands. They varied in size, from a butcher's cleaver to a lady's dirk, and belts of undressed goat-skin, of red buffalo or antelope hide, were attached to them for suspension from the shoulders. There were also iron bells, like our cow and goat bells, curiously carved whistles, fetiches or idols of wood, uncouth and rudely cut figures of human beings, brightly painted in vermilion, alternating with black; baskets made of palm fibre, large wooden and dark clay pipes, iron rings for arms and legs, numerous treasures of necklaces of the _Achatina monetaria_, the black seeds of a species of plantain, and the crimson berries of the _Abrus precatorius_; copper, iron, and wooden pellets. The houses were all of the gable-roofed pattern, which we had first noticed on the summit of the hills on which Riba-Riba, Manyema, is situate; the shields of the Baswa were also after the same type. [Illustration: BASWA BASKET AND COVER.] "The vegetation of the island consisted of almost every variety of plant and tree found in this region, and the banana, plantain, castor-bean, sugar-cane, cassava, and maize flourished; nor must the oil-palm be forgotten, for there were great jars of its dark-red butter in many houses." [Illustration: SHOOTING A CROCODILE AT THE RAPIDS.] "The natives on the mainland," said Fred, raising his eyes from the book for a few moments, "opposed the explorers, and a sharp fight followed, with the same result as at the first cataract. The boats were dragged overland around the worst of the falls, and then lowered through the last rapid by means of ropes. This rapid was separated by an islet from a steep fall which was impassable by the boats. A canoe was swept over this fall and one of its crew drowned; the rest were rescued by Frank Pocock and some of the land party who were below the fall. [Illustration: CAVERN NEAR STANLEY FALLS.] "Just before the boat made its leap over the fall, Zaidi, its captain, sprang into the water and caught upon a rock where he clung until Mr. Stanley devised and executed a plan for his rescue. Strong cables were made from rattans cut in the forest; two cables were attached to a canoe, one at its bow and the other at the stern, and then the canoe, manned by Uledi, the coxswain of the _Lady Alice_, and a youth named Marzouk, was lowered carefully down the current until the unhappy man was reached. It was a position of great peril, and the rescue of the poor fellow was due to the skill of the leader of the expedition and the bravery of Uledi and Marzouk. [Illustration: THE DESPERATE SITUATION OF ZAIDI, AND HIS RESCUE BY ULEDI, THE COXSWAIN OF THE BOAT.] "Seven cataracts in all were passed," said Fred, "some of them by lowering the boats through rapids and others by cutting roads through the forest and dragging the craft overland. Some of the natives along the route were peaceable, but the majority of the tribes and villages were hostile. Mr. Stanley always exhausted all possible efforts at peace, and never fought them until the natives themselves struck the first blow. A short battle was usually sufficient to convince the savages of the futility of opposition. At one place a strong net was drawn around the camp by the natives during the night, in the same manner that nets are drawn for hunting game in various parts of Africa. But the savages found that the plan so effective against wild animals did not work well against the expedition, as the net was cut to pieces by those whom it enclosed. [Illustration: THE SEVENTH CATARACT, STANLEY FALLS.] "The passage of the cataracts and rapids which comprise the Stanley Falls occupied twenty-two days. At the seventh cataract there was a fish-weir, and Mr. Stanley made drawings of several fishes that were caught there. Below Stanley Falls the river spread out again and presented no obstacles to navigation until Stanley Pool was reached, a distance of several hundred miles. [Illustration: PIKE--STANLEY FALLS.] "And now," said Fred, "you shall hear from Mr. Stanley about this part of the great river: [Illustration: AN AFRICAN SUSPENSION BRIDGE.] "We hastened away down river in a hurry, to escape the noise of the cataracts which, for many days and nights, had almost stunned us with their deafening sound. "The Livingstone now deflected to the west-northwest, between hilly banks-- "'Where highest woods, impenetrable To star, or sunlight, spread their umbrage broad And brown as evening.' [Illustration: FISH--SEVENTH CATARACT, STANLEY FALLS. 28 inches long; 16 inches round body; round snout; no teeth; broad tail; large scales; color, pale brown.] "We are once again afloat upon a magnificent stream, whose broad and gray-brown waters woo us with their mystery. We are not a whit dejected after our terrible experiences; we find our reward in being alive to look upon wild nature, and a strange elasticity comes over us. The boat-boys amuse me by singing their most animating song, to which every member of our expedition responds with enthusiasm. The men, women, and children are roused to maintain that reckless, exuberant spirit which assisted me to drive through the cannibal region of the Stanley Falls, for otherwise they might lose that dash and vigor on which depends our success. They are apt, if permitted thinking-time, to brood upon our situation, to become disquieted and melancholy, to reflect on the fate of those who have already been lost, and to anticipate a like dolorous ending to their own lives. [Illustration: BASWA PALM-OIL JAR AND PALM-WINE COOLER.] "At noon, on the 29th, when approaching a large village, we were again assaulted by the aborigines. We drove them back, and obtained a peaceful passage past them, until 1 P.M. From 1 P.M. we were engaged with a new tribe, which possessed very large villages, and maintained a running fight with us until 4 P.M., when, observing the large village of Ituka below us, and several canoes cutting across river to head us off, we resolved to make our stand on the shore. Material for constructing a boma was soon discovered in the outlying houses of the village, and by five o'clock we were tolerably secure on the edge of the steep banks--all obstructions cleared away on the land side, and a perfect view of the river front and shore below us. [Illustration: MOUTH OF DRUM.] "The savages were hideously bepainted for war, one half of their bodies being white, the other ochreous. Their shields were oblong squares, beautifully made of rattan-cane, light, tough, and, to spears and knives, impenetrable. A square slab of ebony wood with a cleat, and one long thin board placed lengthways, and another crossways, sufficed to stiffen them. Shouting their war-cries--'Ya-Mariwa! Ya-Mariwa!'--they rushed on our boma fences like a herd of buffaloes several times, in one of which charges Muftah Rufiji was killed, and another man received a wound from a spear, which glanced along his back. As the heavy spears hurtled through the boma, or flew over it, very many of us had extremely narrow escapes. Frank, for instance, avoided one by giving his body a slight jerk on one side. We, of course, had the advantage, being protected by doors, roofs of houses, poles, brushwood, and our great Mwana Ntaba shields, which had been of invaluable use to us, and had often in the heat of fights saved us and made us almost invulnerable. [Illustration: WOODEN SIGNAL-DRUM OF THE WENYA, OR WAGENYA, AND THE TRIBES ON THE LIVINGSTONE.] "From the Ruiki River up to this afternoon of the 29th of January we had fought twenty-four times, and out of these struggles we had obtained sixty-five doorlike shields, which upon the commencement of a fight on the river at all times had been raised by the women, children, and non-combatants as bulwarks before the riflemen, from behind which, cool and confident, the forty-three guns were of more avail than though there were one hundred and fifty riflemen unprotected. The steersmen, likewise protected, were enabled to steer their vessels with the current while we were engaged in these running fights. Against the spears and arrows the shields were impervious. [Illustration: DRUMSTICKS, KNOBS BEING OF INDIA-RUBBER.] "About ten o'clock of the 30th another conflict began, in the usual way, by a determined assault on us in canoes. By charging under cover of our shields we captured one canoe and eight men, and withdrew to a low grassy islet opposite Yangambi, a settlement consisting of five populous villages. We had discovered by this that nothing cowed the natives so much as a capture, and as it was the most bloodless mode of settling what might have been a protracted affair, I had adopted it. Through our captives we were enabled to negotiate for an unmolested passage, though it involved delay and an expenditure of lung force that was very trying; still, as it ended satisfactorily in many ways, it was preferable to continued fighting. It also increased our opportunities of knowing who our antagonists were, and to begin an acquaintance with these long-buried peoples. [Illustration: SHIELDS OF ITUKA PEOPLE.] "When the natives observed us preparing to halt on the grassy islet directly opposite their villages, with their unfortunate friends in our power, they withdrew to their villages to consult. The distance between our grassy islet and the right bank was only five hundred yards, and, as it was the eastern bank, the sun shone direct on them, enabling me, with the aid of a field-glass, to perceive even the differences of feature between one man and another. [Illustration: FISH--STANLEY FALLS. Fine scales; weight, 23 lbs.; thick, broad snout; 26 small teeth in upper jaw, 23 teeth in lower jaw; broad tongue; head, 11 inches long.] "We placed our captives in their canoe, and, giving each a few shells, motioned them to depart. As the warriors on the bank saw their friends return, they all gathered round the landing-place, and, as they landed, asked scores of questions, the replies to which elicited loud grunts of approval and wonder. The drumming gradually ceased, the war-cries were heard no more, the people left their processions to crowd round their countrymen, and the enormous spear-blades no longer flashed their brightness on us. We waited about an hour, and, taking it for granted that after such a signal instance of magnanimity they would not resume their hostile demeanor, we quietly embarked, and glided down river unopposed. "At a little after noon, on February 1st, we were attacked by a larger force of canoes than on any previous occasion. We were passing the mouth of the Aruwimi River, where there was a great concourse of canoes hovering about some islets which stud the middle of the stream. The canoe-men, standing up, give a loud shout as they discern us, and blow their horns louder than ever. We pull briskly on to gain the right bank, when, looking up stream, we see a sight that sends the blood tingling through every nerve and fibre of the body, arouses not only our most lively interest, but also our most lively apprehensions--a flotilla of gigantic canoes bearing down upon us, which both in size and numbers utterly eclipse anything encountered hitherto! Instead of aiming for the right bank, we form in line, and keep straight down river, the boat taking position behind. Yet after a moment's reflection, as I note the numbers of the savages, and the daring manner of the pursuit, and the apparent desire of our canoes to abandon the steady, compact line, I give the order to drop anchor. Four of our canoes affect not to listen, until I chase them, and threaten them with my guns. This compelled them to return to the line, which is formed of eleven double canoes, anchored ten yards apart. The boat moves up to the front, and takes position fifty yards above them. The shields are next lifted by the non-combatants, men, women, and children, in the bows and along the outer lines, as well as astern, and from behind these the muskets and rifles are aimed. "We have sufficient time to take a view of the mighty force bearing down on us, and to count the number of the war-vessels which have been collected from the Livingstone and its great affluent. There are fifty-four of them! A monster canoe leads the way, with two rows of upstanding paddles, forty men on a side, their bodies bending and swaying in unison as with a swelling barbarous chorus they drive her down towards us. In the bow, standing on what appears to be a platform, are ten prime young warriors, their heads gay with feathers of the parrot, crimson and gray; at the stern, eight men, with long paddles, whose tops are decorated with ivory balls, guide the monster vessel; and dancing up and down from stem to stern are ten men, who appear to be chiefs. All the paddles are headed with ivory balls, every head bears a feather crown, every arm shows gleaming white ivory armlets. From the bow of the canoe streams a thick fringe of the long white fibre of the Hyphene palm. The crashing sound of large drums, a hundred blasts from ivory horns, and a thrilling chant from two thousand human throats, do not tend to soothe our nerves or to increase our confidence. However, it is 'neck or nothing.' We have no time to pray, or to take sentimental looks at the savage world, or even to breathe a sad farewell to it. So many other things have to be done speedily and well. "As the foremost canoe comes rushing down, its consorts on either side beating the water into foam and raising their jets of water with their sharp prows, I turn to take a last look at our people, and say to them: "'Boys, be firm as iron; wait until you see the first spear, and then take good aim. Don't fire all at once. Keep aiming until you are sure of your man. Don't think of running away, for only your guns can save you.' "Frank is with the _Ocean_ on the right flank, and has a choice crew, and a good bulwark of black wooden shields. Manwa Sera has the _London Town_--which he has taken in charge instead of the _Glasgow_--on the left flank, the sides of the canoe bristling with guns, in the hands of tolerably steady men. [Illustration: MONSTER CANOE.] "The monster canoe aims straight for my boat, as though it would run us down; but, when within fifty yards off, swerves aside, and, when nearly opposite, the warriors above the manned prow let fly their spears, and on either side there is a noise of rushing bodies. But every sound is soon lost in the ripping, crackling musketry. For five minutes we are so absorbed in firing that we take no note of anything else; but at the end of that time we are made aware that the enemy is re-forming about two hundred yards above us. "Our blood is up now. It is a murderous world, and we feel for the first time that we hate the filthy, vulturous ghouls who inhabit it. We therefore lift our anchors, and pursue them up-stream along the right bank, until, rounding a point, we see their villages. We make straight for the banks, and continue the fight in the village streets with those who have landed, hunt them out into the woods, and there only sound the retreat, having returned the daring cannibals the compliment of a visit. "While mustering my people for re-embarkation, one of the men came forward and said that in the principal village there was a 'Meskiti,' a 'pembé'--a church, or temple--of ivory, and that ivory was 'as abundant as fuel.' In a few moments I stood before the ivory temple, which was merely a large circular roof supported by thirty-three tusks of ivory, erected over an idol four feet high, painted with camwood dye a bright vermilion, with black eyes and beard and hair. The figure was very rude, still it was an unmistakable likeness of a man. The tusks being wanted by the Wangwana, they received permission to convey them into the canoes. One hundred other pieces of ivory were collected, in the shape of log wedges, long ivory war-horns, ivory pestles to pound cassava into meal, and herbs for spinach, ivory armlets and balls, and ivory mallets to beat the fig-bark into cloth. [Illustration: NATIVE SPADE.] "The stores of beautifully carved paddles, ten feet in length, some of which were iron-pointed, the enormous six-feet-long spears, which were designed more for ornament than use, the splendid long knives, like Persian kummars, and bright iron-mounted sheaths with broad belts of red buffalo and antelope hide, barbed spears, from the light assegai to the heavy double-handed sword-spear, the tweezers, hammers, prickers, hole-burners, hairpins, fish-hooks, hammers, arm and leg-rings of iron and copper, iron beads and wrist-bands, iron bells, axes, war-hatchets, adzes, hoes, dibbers, etc., proved the people on the banks of this river to be clever, intelligent, and more advanced in the arts than any hitherto observed since we commenced our descent of the Livingstone. The architecture of their huts, however, was the same, except the conical structure they had erected over their idol. Their canoes were much larger than those of the Mwana Ntaba, above the Stanley Falls, which had crocodiles and lizards carved on them. Their skull-caps of basket-work, leopard, civet, and monkey skins, were similar to those that we had observed in Uregga. Their shields were like those of the Wariwa. There were various specimens of African wood-carving in great and small idols, stools of ingenious pattern, double benches, walk-staffs, spear-staffs, paddles, flutes, grain-mortars, mallets, drums, clubs, troughs, scoops and canoe-balers, paddles, porridge-spoons, etc. Gourds also exhibited taste in ornamentation. Their earthenware was very superior, their pipes of an unusual pattern--in short, everything that is of use to a well-found African village exhibited remarkable intelligence and prosperity. [Illustration: THE FIGHT BELOW THE CONFLUENCE OF THE ARUWIMI AND THE LIVINGSTONE RIVERS.] "Evidences of cannibalism were numerous in the human and 'soko' skulls that grinned on many poles, and the bones that were freely scattered in the neighborhood, near the village garbage heaps and the river banks, where one might suppose hungry canoe-men to have enjoyed a cold collation on an ancient matron's arm. As the most positive and downright evidence, in my opinion, of this hideous practice, was the thin forearm of a person that was picked up near a fire, with certain scorched ribs which might have been tossed into the fire after being gnawed. It is true that it is but circumstantial evidence, yet we accepted them as indubitable proofs. Besides, we had been taunted with remarks that we would furnish them with meat supplies--for the words _meat_ and _to-day_ have but slight dialectic difference in many languages. [Illustration: SPEAR, ISANGI.] "We embarked in our canoes at 5 P.M., and, descending the affluent, came to the confluence again, and then, hugging the right bank, appeared before other villages; but after our successful resistance to such a confederation of chiefs and the combined strength of three or four different tribes, it was not likely that one small settlement would risk an encounter. For several days after this battle we had little opposition. We avoided the villages as much as possible, and by the 8th of February we were entirely out of provisions. On the 9th we camped on a grassy islet in front of a village called Rubunga, where, after a great deal of parleying, we bought a plentiful supply of bananas and other food. We made brotherhood with the chief, and had no trouble during our stay. [Illustration: KNIVES, RUBUNGA.] "The people of Rubunga carry knives which are singular specimens of the African smith's art, being principally of a waving sickle-shaped pattern, while the principal men carried brass-handled weapons, eighteen inches long, double-edged, and rather wide-pointed, with two blood channels along the centre of the broad blade, while near the hilt the blade was pierced by two quarter-circular holes, while the top of the haft was ornamented with the fur of the otter. "The aborigines dress their hair with an art peculiar to the Warua and Waguha, which consists in wearing it in tufts on the back of the head, and fastening it with elegantly shaped iron hairpins--a fashion which also obtains among many kitchen maids in England. Tattooing is carried to excess, every portion of the skin bearing punctured marks, from the roots of the hair down to the knees. Their breasts are like hieroglyphic parchment charts, marked with _raised_ figures, ledges, squares, circles, wavy lines, tuberose knots, rosettes, and every conceivable design. No coloring substance had been introduced into these incisions and punctures; the cuticle had simply been tortured and irritated by the injection of some irritants or air. Indeed, some of the glossy tubercles, which contained air, were as large as hens' eggs. As many as six thin ledges marked the foreheads from temple to temple, as many ran down each cheek, while from lower eyelid to base of septum curved wavy lines; the chin showed rosettes, the neck seemed goitrous with the large vesicular protuberances, while the front parts of their bodies afforded broad fields upon which the native artist had displayed the exuberant fertility of his genius. To such an extent is this fashion carried that the people are hideously deformed, many of them having quite unnatural features and necks. [Illustration: RINGS FOR PROTECTING THE ARM.] "To add to the atrocious bad taste of these aborigines, their necklaces consisted of human, gorilla, and crocodile teeth, in such quantity in many cases that little or nothing could be seen of the neck. A few possessed polished boars' tusks, with the points made to meet from each side. "The most curious objects we discovered at Rubunga were four ancient Portuguese muskets, at the sight of which the people of the expedition raised a glad shout. These appeared to them certain signs that we had not lost the road, that the great river did really reach the sea, and that their master was not deluding them when he told them that some day they would see the sea. "In reply to our questions as to where they had obtained them, they said from men in canoes from Bankaro, Bangaro, Mangara, or, as the word finally settled down, from Mangala, who came once a year to buy ivory. These traders were black men, and they had never heard of white men or of Arabs." "We will now," said Fred, "leave you to pass the night among the people of Rubunga, who seem friendly enough to warrant my trusting you with them." The eager listeners took the hint thus conveyed and there was a concerted movement towards the doorway. [Illustration: RUBUNGA BLACKSMITHS.] CHAPTER XIII. IN URANGI.--A NOISY RECEPTION.--WONDERFUL HEAD-DRESSES.--A TREACHEROUS ATTACK.--ANIMAL LIFE ALONG THE RIVER.--BIRDS AND BEASTS OF THE GREAT STREAM.--A BATTLE WITH THE BANGALA.--FIRE-ARMS IN THE HANDS OF THE NATIVES.--THE SAVAGES, ALTHOUGH IN SUPERIOR NUMBERS, ARE REPULSED.--HIGH WINDS AND STORMS.--EFFECT OF THE CLIMATE ON MR. STANLEY'S HEALTH.--A GREAT TRIBUTARY RIVER.--FRIENDLY PEOPLE OF IKENGO.--PROVISIONS IN ABUNDANCE.--ISLANDS IN THE RIVER.--DEATH OF AMINA.--A MOURNFUL SCENE.--THE LEVY HILLS.--HIPPOPOTAMUS CREEK.--BOLOBO.--THE KING OF CHUMBIRI.--A CRAFTY POTENTATE.--HIS DRESS, PIPE, WIVES, AND SONS.--INCONVENIENT COLLARS.--CURIOUS CUSTOMS. It was Frank's turn to read on the next day, and, promptly at the appointed hour, the reader and his audience were in their places. Without any preliminary remarks, the youth plunged at once into the midst of his subject. [Illustration: DOUBLE IRON BELLS OF URANGI.] "On the morning of the 10th of February natives from down river appeared to escort us, and our friends of Rubunga also despatched a canoe and five men to introduce us to Urangi. In about two hours we arrived at the very populous settlement of Urangi, consisting of several villages almost joining one another. I doubt whether the people of Urangi and Rubunga are cannibals, though we obtained proof sufficient that human life is not a subject of concern with them, and the necklaces of human teeth which they wore were by no means assuring--they provoked morbid ideas. "We received a noisy and demonstrative welcome. In the afternoon the great chief of Urangi made his presence known by sounding his double iron gong. This gong consisted of two long, iron, bell-shaped instruments, connected above by an iron handle, which, when beaten with a short stick with a ball of india-rubber at the end, produced very agreeable musical sounds. He had a kindly reception, and though he manifested no desire or declared any intention of reciprocating our gift, he did not leave our camp dissatisfied with his present. He loudly proclaimed to the assembly in the river something to the effect that I was his brother; that peace and good-will should prevail, and that everybody should behave, and 'make plenty of trade.' But on his departure his people became roguish and like wild children. Scores of canoes flitted here and there, up and down, along the front of the camp, which gave us opportunities of observing that every person was tattooed in the most abominable manner; that the coiffeur's art was carried to perfection; that human teeth were popular ornaments for the neck; that their own teeth were filed; that brass wire to an astonishing quantity had been brought to them by the Bangala; as they had coils of it upon their arms and legs, and ruffs of it resting upon their shoulders; that while the men wore ample loin-coverings of grass-cloth, their women went naked; that ivory was to be purchased here to any amount, and that palm-wine had affected the heads of a great many. We also discovered that Urangi possessed about a dozen muskets. "During the night we heard drumming and the report of muskets, but were not otherwise disturbed. As we departed down the river in the morning we were treacherously attacked by a fleet of canoes, and had a hard fight to beat them off. Hitherto, on the river, we had only the arrows and spears of the natives to fear, but now they were using muskets. [Illustration: BEAK OF THE BALINÆCEPS REX.] "There was an abundance of animal life along the river. On the islands we saw several elephants; the river was full of crocodiles and hippopotami, and along the islands and banks there were flocks of storks, cranes, ducks, egrets, flamingoes, spur-winged geese, and other aquatic birds. We saw many fine specimens of the Balinæceps Rex, identical with the one inhabiting the Upper Nile. He makes his home among the lotus-flowers and papyrus-plants, and is noticeable for his enormous beak. [Illustration: THE BALINÆCEPS REX.] "During the forenoon of the 14th of February, while anxiously looking out lest we should be taken by some erratic channels in view of other villages, we arrived at the end of an island, which, after some hesitation, we followed along the right. Two islands were to the right of us, and prevented us from observing the mainland. But after descending two miles we came in full view of a small settlement on the right bank. Too late to return, we crept along down river, hugging the island as closely as possible, in order to arrive at a channel before the natives should sight us. But, alas! even in the midst of our prayers for deliverance, sharp, quick taps on a native kettle-drum sent our blood bounding to the heart, and we listened in agony for the response. Presently one drum after another sounded the alarm, until the Titanic drums of war thundered the call to arms. "In very despair I sprang to my feet, and, addressing my distressed and long-suffering followers, said, 'It is of no use, my friends, to hope to escape these blood-thirsty pagans. Those drums mean war. Yet it is very possible these are the Bangala, in which case, being traders, they will have heard of the men by the sea, and a little present may satisfy the chiefs. Now, while I take the sun you prepare your guns, your powder and bullets; see that every shield is ready to lift at once, as soon as you see or hear one gun-shot. It is only in that way I can save you, for every pagan now, from here to the sea, is armed with a gun, and they are black like you, and they have a hundred guns to your one. If we must die, we will die with guns in our hands, like men. While I am speaking, and trying to make friendship with them, let no one speak or move.' "We drew ashore at the little island, opposite the highest village, and at noon I obtained by observation north latitude 1° 7' 0". Meanwhile savage madness was being heated by the thunder of drums, canoes were mustering, guns were being loaded, spears and broadswords were being sharpened, all against us, merely because we were strangers, and afloat on their waters. Yet we had the will and the means to purchase amity. We were ready to submit to any tax, imposition, or insolent demand for the privilege of a peaceful passage. Except life, or one drop of our blood, we would sacrifice anything. "Slowly and silently we withdrew from the shelter of the island and began the descent of the stream. The boat took position in front, Frank's canoe, the _Ocean_, on the right, Manwa Sera's, _London Town_, to the left. Beyond Manwa Sera's canoe was the uninhabited island, the great length of which had ensnared us and hedged us in to the conflict. From our right the enemy would appear with muskets and spears and an unquenchable ferocity, unless we could mollify him. "We had left Observation Island about half a mile behind us when the prows of many canoes were seen to emerge out of the creek. I stood up and edged towards them, holding a long piece of red cloth in one hand and a coil of brass wire in the other. We rested on our oars, and the men quietly placed their paddles in their canoes, and sat up, watchful, but ready for contingencies. As we floated down, numbers of canoes advanced. "I hailed the natives, who were the most brilliantly decorated of any yet seen. At a distance they all appeared to wear something like English University caps, though of a white color. There was a great deal of glitter and flash of metal, shining brass, copper, and bright steel among them. "The natives returned no answer to my hail; still I persisted, with the same artfulness of manner that had been so successful at Rubunga. I observed three or four canoes approaching Frank's vessel with a most suspicious air about them, and several of their canoes menacing him, at which Frank stood up and menaced them with his weapon. I thought the act premature, and ordered him to sit down and to look away from them. I again raised the crimson cloth and wire, and by pantomime offered to give it to those in front, whom I was previously addressing; but almost immediately those natives who had threatened Frank fired into my boat, wounding three of my young crew--Mambu, Murabo, and Jaffari--and two more natives fired into Frank's canoe, wounding two--Hatib and Muftah. The missiles fired into us were jagged pieces of iron and copper ore precisely similar to those which the Ashantees employed. After this murderous outrage there was no effort made to secure peace. The shields were lifted, and proved capital defences against the hail of slugs. Boat, shields, and canoes were pitted, but only a few shields were perforated. [Illustration: A CANNIBAL CHIEF.] "The conflict began in earnest, and lasted so long that ammunition had to be redistributed. We perceived that, as the conflict continued, every village sent out its quota. About two o'clock a canoe advanced with a swaggering air, its crew evidently intoxicated, and fired at us when within thirty yards. The boat instantly swept down to it and captured it, but the crew sprang into the river, and, being capital swimmers, were saved by a timely arrival of their friends. At three o'clock I counted sixty-three opposed to us. Some of the Bangala distinguished themselves by an audacity and courage that, for our own sakes, I was glad to see was not general. Especially one young chief, distinguished by his head-dress of white goat-skin and a short mantle of the same material, and wreaths of thick brass wire on neck, arms, and legs, sufficient, indeed, to have protected those parts from slugs, and proving him to be a man of consequence. His canoe-mates were ten in number; and his steersman, by his adroitness and dexterity, managed the canoe so well that, after he and his mates had fired their guns, he instantly presented its prow and only a thin line of upright figures to our aim. Each time he dashed up to deliver his fire all the canoes of his countrymen seemed stimulated by his example to emulate him. And, allowing five guns on an average to each of the sixty-three canoes, there were three hundred and fifteen muskets opposed to our forty-four. Their mistake was in supposing their slugs to have the same penetrative effect and long range as our missiles had. Only a few of the boldest approached, after they had experienced our fire, within a hundred yards. The young chief already mentioned frequently charged to within fifty yards, and delivered a smashing charge of missiles, almost all of which were either too low or too high. Finally Manwa Sera wounded him with a Snider bullet in the thigh. The brave fellow coolly, and in presence of us all, took a piece of cloth and deliberately bandaged it, and then calmly retreated towards shore. The action was so noble and graceful that orders were given to let him withdraw unmolested. After his departure the firing became desultory, and at 5.30 P.M. our antagonists retired, leaving us to attend to our wounded, and to give three hearty cheers at our success. This was our thirty-first fight on the terrible river--the last but one--and certainly the most determined conflict that we had endured. "The Bangala may be said to be the Ashantees of the Livingstone River, though their country has comparatively but a small populated river front. Their villages cover--at intervals of a mile or half a mile--a line of ten miles. They trade with Ikengo and Irebu down the river all the ivory they have purchased from Upoto, Gunji, Mpisa, Ukeré, Rubunga, Urangi, Mpakiwana, and Marunja. I observed soon after the fight began that many canoes emerged out of a river coming from a northerly direction. For a long period the river of Bangala has appeared on West African maps as the Bancaro River. The word Bangala, which may be pronounced Bangara, Bankara, or Bankaro, signifies the people of Mangala or Mangara, Mankara or Mankaro. I have simply adopted the more popular term. [Illustration: THE ATTACK OF THE SIXTY-THREE CANOES OF THE PIRATICAL BANGALA.] "We continued our journey on this eventful day until an hour after sunset, when we proceeded to establish a camp at the head of a narrow, tortuous channel, which lost itself amid the clusters of small islets. "On the 15th, at noon, we reached north latitude 0° 58' 0". The strong winds which at this season blow daily up river impeded our journey greatly. They generally began at 8 A.M., and lasted until 3 P.M. When narrow channels were open to us we were enabled to proceed without interruption, but when exposed to broad open streams the waves rose as high as two feet, and were a source of considerable danger. Indeed, from the regularity and increased force of the winds, I half suspected at the time that the Livingstone emptied into some vast lake such as the Victoria Nyanza. The mean temperature in the shade seldom exceeded 74° Fahrenheit, and the climate, though not dry, was far more agreeable than the clammy humidity characteristic of the east coast. The difference between the heat in this elevated region and that of the east coast was such that, while it was dangerous to travel in the sun without a sun-umbrella, near the sea on the east coast a light double-cotton cloth cap saved me from feeling any inconvenience when standing up in the boat under a bright glaring sun and cloudless sky. While sitting down in the boat, a few minutes was sufficient to convince me it was dangerous, without an umbrella, even here. While at work at the Stanley Falls the umbrella was not used. The nights were uncomfortable without a blanket, and sometimes even two were desirable. [Illustration: POISONED ARROWS.] "The winds which prevail at this season of the year are from the southwest, or south, which means from the temperate latitude of the South Atlantic, and slightly chilled in their passage over the western ranges. In the early morning the thermometer was often as low as 64°. From 10 A.M. to 4 P.M. it ranged from 75° to 85° Fahrenheit in the shade; from 4 P.M. to sunset it ranged from 72° to 80°. From the 12th of January until the 5th of March we experienced no rain. "One remarkable fact connected with our life in this region is, that though we endured more anxiety of mind and more strain on the body, were subject to constant peril, and fared harder (being compelled for weeks to subsist on green bananas, cassava, and sugarless tea, and those frequently in scanty quantities), we--Frank and I--enjoyed better health on the Livingstone than at any other period of the journey; but whether this unusual health might not be attributed to having become more acclimatized is a question. "The mirage on the Livingstone was often ludicrously deceptive, playing on our fears at a most trying period, in a manner which plunged us from a temporary enjoyment of our immunity from attack into a state of suspicion and alarm, which probably, in nine cases out of ten, arose out of the exaggerated proportions given to a flock of pelicans or wild geese, which to our nerves, then in a high state of tension, appeared to be a very host of tall warriors. A young crocodile basking on a sandy spit appeared to be as large as a canoe, and an ancient and bleached tree a ship. [Illustration: A CROCODILE HUNT.] "At noon of the 17th we had reached north latitude 0° 18' 41", our course during the 16th and 17th having been southwest, but a little before sunset the immense river was gradually deflecting to south. "I quote the following from my note-book: "'_February_ 18, 1877.--For three days we have been permitted, through the mercy of God, to descend this great river uninterrupted by savage clamor or ferocity. Winds during two days seriously impeded us, and were a cause for anxiety, but yesterday was fine and calm, and the river like a sheet of burnished glass; we therefore made good progress. In the afternoon we encountered a native trading expedition from Ikengo in three canoes, one of which was manned by fifteen paddlers, clothed in robes of crimson blanket-cloth. We hailed them, but they refused to answer us. This sight makes me believe the river must be pretty free of cataracts, and it may be that there are no more than the Sundi cataract, and the Falls of Yellalla reported by Tuckey in 1816, otherwise I cannot account for the ascent of three trading vessels, and such extensive possession of cloths and guns, so far up the river. "'Since the 10th of February we have been unable to purchase food, or indeed approach a settlement for any amicable purpose. The aborigines have been so hostile that even fishing-canoes have fired at us as though we were harmless game. God alone knows how we shall prosper below. But let come what may, I have purposed to attempt communicating with the natives to-morrow. A violent death will be preferable to death by starvation. "'_February_ 19, 1877.--This morning we regarded each other as fated victims of protracted famine, or the rage of savages, like those of Mangala. But as we feared famine most, we resolved to confront the natives again. At 10 A.M., while we were descending the Livingstone along the left bank, we discovered an enormous river, considerably over a thousand yards wide, with a strong current, and deep, of the color of black tea. This is the largest influent yet discovered, and after joining the Livingstone it appeared to command the left half to itself--it strangely refuses to amalgamate with the Livingstone, and the divisional line between them is plainly marked by a zigzag ripple, as though the two great streams contended with one another for the mastery. Even the Aruwimi and the Lowwa united would not greatly exceed this giant influent. Its strong current and black water contrast very strongly with the whitey-brown Livingstone. On the upper side of the confluence is situate Ibonga, but the natives, though not openly hostile, replied to us with the peculiar war-cries "Yaha-ha-ha!" "'We continued our journey, though grievously hungry, past Bwena and Inguba, doing our utmost to induce the staring fishermen to communicate with us, without any success. They became at once officiously busy with guns, and dangerously active. We arrived at Ikengo, and as we were almost despairing we proceeded to a small island opposite this settlement and prepared to encamp. Soon a canoe with seven men came dashing across, and we prepared our moneys for exhibition. They unhesitatingly advanced, and ran their canoe alongside us. We were rapturously joyful, and returned them a most cordial welcome, as the act was a most auspicious sign of confidence. We were liberal, and the natives fearlessly accepted our presents, and from this giving of gifts we proceeded to seal this incipient friendship with our blood with all due ceremony. [Illustration: ELEPHANT HUNTERS ON THE CONGO.] "'After an hour's stay with us they returned to communicate with their countrymen, leaving one young fellow with us, which was another act of grace. Soon from a village below Ikengo two more canoes came up with two chiefs, who were extremely insolent and provoking, though after nearly two and a half years' experience of African manners we were not to be put out of temper because two drunken savages chose to be overbearing. [Illustration: AFRICAN KNIFE AND AXES.] "'By and by they cooled down. We got them to sit and talk, and we laughed together, and were apparently the best of friends. Of all the things which struck their fancy, my note-book, which they called "tara-tara," or looking-glass, appeared to them to be the most wonderful. They believed it possessed manifold virtues, and that it came from above. Would I, could I, sell it to them? It would have found a ready sale. But as it contained records of disaster by flood and fire, charts of rivers and creeks and islands, sketches of men and manners, notes upon a thousand objects, I could not part with it even for a tusk of ivory. "'They got angry and sulky again. It was like playing with and coaxing spoiled children. We amused them in various ways, and they finally became composed, and were conquered by good-nature. With a generous scorn of return gifts, they presented me with a gourdful of palm-wine. But I begged so earnestly for food that they sent their canoes back, and, while they sat down by my side, it devolved upon me until their return to fascinate and charm them with benignant gestures and broken talk. About 3 P.M. provisions came in basketfuls of cassava tubers, bananas, and long plantains, and the two chiefs made me rich by their liberality, while the people began also to thaw from that stupor into which impending famine had plunged them. At sunset our two friends, with whom I had labored with a zealot's enthusiasm, retired, each leaving with me a spear as a pledge that they would return to-morrow, and renew our friendly intercourse, with canoe-loads of provisions. [Illustration: SPEARS, AND SHIELD OF ELEPHANT-HIDE.] "'_February_ 20, 1877.--My two friends brought most liberal supplies with them of cassava tubers, cassava loaves, flour, maize, plantains, and bananas, and two small goats, besides two large gourdfuls of palm-wine, and, what was better, they had induced their countrymen to respond to the demand for food. We held a market on Mwangangala Island, at which there was no scarcity of supplies; black pigs, goats, sheep, bananas, plantains, cassava bread, flour, maize, sweet potatoes, yams, and fish being the principal things brought for sale. "'The tall chief of Bwena and the chief of Inguba, influenced by the two chiefs of Ikengo, also thawed, and announced their coming by sounding those curious double bell-gongs, and blowing long horns of ivory, the notes of which distance made quite harmonious. During the whole of this day life was most enjoyable, intercourse unreservedly friendly, and though most of the people were armed with guns there was no manifestation of the least desire to be uncivil, rude, or hostile, which inspired us once more with a feeling of security to which we had been strangers since leaving Urangi. "'From my friends I learned that the name of the great river above Bwena is called Ikelemba. When I asked them which was the largest river, that which flowed by Mangala, or that which came from the southeast, they replied, that though Ikelemba River was very large, it was not equal to the "big river." They said it would take me thirty days to reach the cataracts of the lower part of the river. "'Every weapon these natives possess is decorated with fine brass wire and brass tacks. Their knives are beautiful weapons, of a bill-hook pattern, the handles of which are also profusely decorated with an amount of brass-work and skill that places them very high among the clever tribes. These knives are carried in broad sheaths of red buffalo-hide, and are suspended by a belt of the same material. Besides an antique flint-lock musket, each warrior is armed with from four to five light and long assegais, with staves of the _Curtisia faginea_, and a bill-hook sword. They are a finely formed people, of a chocolate brown, very partial to camwood powder and palm-oil. Snuff is very freely taken, and their tobacco is most pungent. "'_February_ 21.--This afternoon at 2 P.M. we continued our journey. Eight canoes accompanied us some distance, and then parted from us, with many demonstrations of friendship. The river flows from Ikengo southwesterly, the flood of the Ikelemba retaining its dark color, and spreading over a breadth of three thousand yards; the Livingstone's pure, whitey-gray waters flow over a breadth of about five thousand yards, in many broad channels.' "From the left bank we crossed to the right, on the morning of the 22d, and, clinging to the wooded shores of Ubangi, had reached at noon south latitude 0° 51' 13". Two hours later we came to where the great river contracted to a breadth of three thousand yards, flowing between two low, rocky points, both of which were populous, well cultivated, and rich with banana plantations. Below these points the river slowly widened again, and islands well wooded, like those farther up the river, rose into view, until by their number they formed once more intricate channels and winding creeks. [Illustration: SPECTATORS AMONG THE TREES.] "Desirous of testing the character of the natives, we pulled across to the left bank, until, meeting with a small party of fishermen, we were again driven by their ferocity to seek the untravelled and unpopulated island wildernesses. It was rather amusing than otherwise to observe the readiness of the savages of Irebu to fire their guns at us. They appeared to think that we were human waifs without parentage, guardianship, or means of protection, for their audacity was excessive. One canoe with only four men dashed down at us from behind an island close to the left bank, and fired point-blank from a distance of one hundred yards. Another party ran along a spit of sand and coolly waited our approach on their knees, and, though we sheered off to a distance of two hundred yards from them, they poured a harmless volley of slugs towards us, at which Baraka, the humorist, said that the pagans caused us to 'eat more iron than grain.' "Such frantic creatures, however, could not tempt us to fight them. The river was wide enough, channels innumerable afforded us means of escaping from their mad ferocity, and if poor purblind nature was so excessively arrogant, Providence had kindly supplied us with crooked by-ways and unfrequented paths of water which we might pursue unmolested. "At noon of the 23d we had reached 1° 22' 15" south latitude. Strong gales met us during each day. The islands were innumerable, creeks and channels winding in and out among the silent scenes. But though their general appearance was much the same, almost uniform in outline and size, the islands never became commonplace. Was it from gratitude at the security they afforded us from the ruthless people of these regions? I do not know, but every bosky island into whose dark depths, shadowed by impervious roofs of foliage, we gazed had about it something kindly and prepossessing. Did we love them because, from being hunted by our kind, and ostracized from communities of men, we had come to regard them as our homes? I cannot tell, but I shall ever and forever remember them. Ah, had I but space, how I would revel in descriptions of their treasures and their delights! Even with their gad-flies and their tsetsé, their mosquitoes and their ants, I love them. There was no treachery or guile in their honest depths; the lurking assassin feared their twilight gloom; the savage dared not penetrate their shades without a feeling of horror; but to us they were refuges in our distress, and their solitudes healed our woes. How true the words, 'Affliction cometh not out of the dust, nor doth trouble spring out of the ground.' Innocence and peace dwelt in the wilderness alone. Outside of these retreats glared the fierce-eyed savage, with malice and rage in his heart, and deadly weapons in his hand. "To us, then, these untenanted islets, with their 'breadths of tropic shade, and palms in clusters,' seemed verily 'knots of paradise.' Like hunted beasts of the chase, we sought the gloom and solitudes of the wilds. Along the meandering and embowered creeks, hugging the shadows of the o'erarching woods, we sought for that safety which man refused us. "The great river grew sealike in breadth below Irebu on the morning of the 24th; indeed, it might have been one hundred miles in breadth for aught we knew, deep-buried as we were among the islands. Yet there were broad and deep channels on every side of us, as well as narrow creeks between lengthy islands. The volume of water appeared exhaustless, though distributed over such an enormous width. There was water sufficient to float the most powerful steamers that float in the Mississippi. Here and there among the verdured isles gleamed broad humps of white sand, but on either side were streams several hundred yards wide, with as much as three fathoms' depth of water in the channels. "At noon we reached south latitude 1° 37' 22". The Mompurengi natives appeared on an island and expressed their feelings by discharging two guns at us, which we did not resent, but steadily held on our way. An hour afterwards faithful Amina, wife of Kachéché, breathed her last, making a most affecting end. "Being told by Kachéché that his poor wife was dying, I drew my boat alongside of the canoe she was lying in. She was quite sensible, but very weak. 'Ah, master,' she said, 'I shall never see the sea again. Your child Amina is dying. I have so wished to see the cocoanuts and the mangoes; but no; Amina is dying--dying in a pagan land. She will never see Zanzibar. The master has been good to his children, and Amina remembers it. It is a bad world, master, and you have lost your way in it. Good-bye, master; do not forget poor little Amina!' "While floating down we dressed Amina in her shroud, and laid her tenderly out, and at sunset consigned her body to the depths of the silent river. "The morning of the 25th saw us once again on the broad stream floating down. We got a view of the mainland to the right, and discovered it to be very low. We hurried away into the island creeks, and floated down among many reedy, grassy islets, the haunt of bold hippopotami, one of which made a rush at a canoe with open mouth, but contented himself fortunately with a paddle, which he crunched into splinters. "On the 26th the grassy islets became more frequent, inhabited by the flamingo, pelican, stork, whydahs, ibis, geese, ducks, etc. The salt-makers find a great source of wealth in the grasses, and the smoke of their fires floated over the country in clouds. "At 10 A.M. the Levy Hills rose into view about two miles beyond the river, on the left bank, which as we neared Kutumpuku approached the river, and formed a ridge. Instantly the sight of the approaching hills suggested cataracts, and the memories of the terrible struggles we had undergone in passing the Stanley Falls were then brought vividly to our mind. What should we do with our sadly weakened force, were we to experience the same horrible scenes again? "At noon I took an observation, and ascertained that we were in south latitude 2° 23' 14". Edging off towards the right bank, we came to a creek, which, from the immense number of those amphibious animals, I have called 'Hippopotamus Creek.' Grass-covered islets, innumerable to us as we passed by them, were on either side. When about half-way through this creek we encountered seven canoes, loaded with men, about to proceed to their fishing haunts. Our sudden meeting occasioned a panic among the natives, and as man had hitherto been a dreaded object, it occasioned us also not a little uneasiness. Fortunately, however, they retreated in haste, uttering their fearful 'Yaha-ha-has,' and we steadily pursued our way down river, and about 3 P.M. emerged in view of the united stream, four thousand yards wide, contracted by the steep cultivated slopes of Bolobo on the left, and by a beautiful high upland--which had gradually been lifting from the level plains--on the right bank. "For a moment, as we issued in view of the stream, with scores of native canoes passing backward and forward, either fishing or proceeding to the grassy islets to their fish-sheds and salt-making, we feared that we should have another conflict; but though they looked at us wonderingly, there was no demonstration of hostility. One man in a canoe, in answer to our question, replied that the bold heights two hundred feet above the river, which swarmed with villages, was Bolobo. Being so near the border of the savage lands above, we thought it safer to wait yet one more day before attempting further intercourse with them. "On the 27th, during the morning, we were still among islets and waving branches, but towards the afternoon the islets had disappeared, and we were in view of a magnificent breadth of four miles of clear water. On our left the cultivated uplands of Bolobo had become elevated into a line of wooded hills, and on our right the wall of the brown, grassy upland rose high and steep, broken against the sky-line into cones. "Gradually the shores contracted, until at 3 P.M. the right bank deflected to a southeast course, and finally shot out a long rocky point, which to us, accustomed to an enormous breadth of river, appeared as though it were the commencement of a cataract. We approached it with the utmost caution, but on arriving near it we discovered that the mirage had exaggerated its length and height, for between it and the left bank were at least two thousand five hundred yards of deep water. "The time had now come when we could no longer sneak among reedy islets, or wander in secret among wildernesses of water; we must once more confront man. The native, as we had ascertained opposite Bolobo, was not the destructive infuriate of Irebu or Mompurengi, or the frantic brute of Mangala and Marunja. He appeared to be toning down into the MAN, and to understand that others of his species inhabited this globe. At least, we hoped so. We wished to test the accuracy of this belief, and now eagerly searched for opportunities to exchange greetings, and to claim kindred with him. As we had industriously collected a copious vocabulary of African languages, we felt a certain confidence that we had been sufficiently initiated into the science of aboriginal language to be able to begin practising it. "Behind the rocky point were three natives fishing for minnows with hand-nets. We lay to on our oars and accosted them. They replied to us clearly and calmly. There was none of that fierce fluster and bluster and wild excitement that we had come to recognize as the preliminary symptoms of a conflict. The word _ndu_--brother--was more frequent. To our overtures of friendship there was a visible inclination of assent; there was a manifest desire to accept our conciliatory sentiments; for we received conciliatory responses. Who could doubt a pacific conclusion to the negotiations? Our tact and diplomacy had been educated in a rough school of adversity. Once the attention of the natives had been arrested, and their confidence obtained, we had never failed to come to a friendly understanding. [Illustration: ENCOUNTER WITH A HIPPOPOTAMUS.] "They showed us a camping-place at the base of the brown, grassy upland, in the midst of a thin grove of trees. They readily subscribed to all the requirements of friendship, blood-brotherhood, and an exchange of a few small gifts. Two of them then crossed the river to Chumbiri, whose green, wooded slopes and fields, and villages and landing-place, were visible, to tell the King of Chumbiri that peaceable strangers desired friendship with him. They appeared to have described us to him as most engaging people, and to have obtained his cordial co-operation and sympathy in a very short time, for soon three canoes appeared conveying about forty men, under three of his sons, who bore to us the royal spear, and several royal gifts, such as palm-wine, a goat, bananas, and a chicken for myself, and a hearty welcome from the old king, their father, with the addition of a promise that he would call himself the next day. [Illustration: A PRESENT FROM CHUMBIRI.] "About 9 A.M. of the 28th, the king of Chumbiri appeared with _éclat_. Five canoes filled with musketeers escorted him. [Illustration: THE KING OF CHUMBIRI.] "Though the sketch below is an admirable likeness of him, it may be well also to append a verbal description. A small-eyed man of fifty years or thereabout, with a well-formed nose, but wide nostrils and thin lips, clean shaved--or rather clean-plucked--with a quiet yet sociable demeanor, ceremonious and mild-voiced, with the instincts of a greedy trader cropping out of him at all points, and cunning beyond measure. The type of his curious hat may be seen on the head of any Armenian priest. It was formed out of close-plaited hyphene-palm fibre, sufficiently durable to outlast his life though he might live a century. From his left shoulder, across his chest, was suspended the sword of the bill-hook pattern, already described in the passages about Ikengo. Above his shoulder stood upright the bristles of an elephant's tail. His hand was armed with a buffalo's tail, made into a fly-flapper, to whisk mosquitoes and gnats off the royal face. To his wrist were attached the odds and ends which the laws of superstition had enjoined upon him, such as charm-gourds, charm-powders in bits of red and black flannel, and a collection of wooden antiquities, besides a snuff-gourd and a parcel of tobacco-leaves. [Illustration: GREAT PIPE OF KING OF CHUMBIRI.] "The king's people were apparently very loyal and devoted to him, and his sons showed remarkable submissiveness. The little snuff-gourd was in constant requisition, and he took immoderate quantities, inhaling a quarter of a teaspoonful at a time from the palm of his hand, to which he pressed his poor nose until it seemed to be forced into his forehead. Immediately after, one of his filially affectionate children would fill his long chibouque, which was six feet in length, decorated with brass tacks and tassels of braided cloth. The bowl was of iron, and large enough to contain half an ounce of tobacco. He would then take two or three long-drawn whiffs, until his cheeks were distended like two hemispheres, and fumigate his charms thoroughly with the smoke. His sons then relieved him of the pipe--at which he snapped his fingers--and distended their cheeks into hemispherical protuberances in like manner, and also in the same way fumigated their little charms; and so the chibouque of peace and sociability went the round of the circle, as though it were a council of Sioux about to hold a pow-wow, and as the pipe passed round there was an interchange of finger-snaps in a decorous, grave, and ceremonious style. "Our intercourse with the king was very friendly, and it was apparent that we were mutually pleased. The only fault that I, as a stranger, could find in him was an excessive cunning, which approached to the sublime. He had evidently cultivated fraud and duplicity as an art, yet he was suave and wheedling. Could I complain? Never were people so willing to be victimized. Had we been warned that he would victimize us, I do not think that we should have refused his friendship. "An invitation was extended to us to make his own village our home. We were hungry; and no doubt we were approaching cataracts. It would be welcome knowledge to know what to expect below in that broad defile filled by the great river; what peoples, countries, tribes, villages, rivers we should see; if the tribes were amenable to reason in the unknown country; if white men had ever been heard of; if there were cataracts below, and if they were passable. We accepted the invitation, and crossed the river, drums and double bell-gongs sounding the peaceful advance of our flotilla upon Chumbiri. "We were proud of our reception by the dames of Chumbiri. Loyal and submissive to their king, they exhibited kindly attentions to the strangers. We held a grand market, and won the natives' hearts by our liberality. Back rations for several days were due to our people, and, filled with an extravagant delight--even as Frank and I were--they expended their ration moneys with a recklessness of consequences which only the novelty of the situation explained. We had arrived at port, and weather-beaten voyagers are generally free with their moneys upon such occasions. [Illustration: ONE OF THE KING'S WIVES AT CHUMBIRI.] "The dames of Chumbiri were worth seeing, even to us, who were sated with the thousand curious things we had met in our long travels. They were also pretty, of a rich brown color many of them, large-eyed, and finely formed, with a graceful curve of shoulder I had not often observed. But they were slaves of fashion. Six tenths of the females wore brass collars two inches in diameter; three tenths had them two and a half inches in diameter; one tenth were oppressed with collars three inches in diameter; which completely covered the neck, and nearly reached the shoulder ends. Fancy the weight of thirty pounds of brass, soldered permanently round the neck! Yet these oppressed women were the favorite wives of Chumbiri! And they rejoiced in their oppression! "I believe that Chumbiri--who, as I said, was a keen and enterprising trader, the first aboriginal African that might be compared to a Parsee--as soon as he obtained any brass wire, melted it and forged it into brass collars for his wives. That the collars were not larger may be attributed, perhaps, to his poverty. He boasted to me he possessed 'four tens' of wives, and each wife was collared permanently in thick brass. I made a rough calculation, and I estimated that his wives bore about their necks until death at least eight hundred pounds of brass; his daughters--he had six--one hundred and twenty pounds; his favorite female slaves about two hundred pounds. Add six pounds of brass wire to each wife and daughter for arm and leg ornaments, and one is astonished to discover that Chumbiri possesses a portable store of one thousand three hundred and ninety-six pounds of brass. "I asked of Chumbiri what he did with the brass on the neck of a dead wife. Chumbiri smiled. Cunning rogue; he regarded me benevolently, as though he loved me for the searching question. Significantly he drew his finger across his throat. "The warriors and young men are distinguished for a characteristic style of hair-dressing, which belongs to Uyanzi alone. It is arranged into four separate plaits, two of which overhang the forehead like lovers' curls. Another special mark of Uyanzi are two tattooed lines over the forehead. In whatever part of the lower Livingstone these peculiarities of style may be seen, they are indubitably Wy-yanzi, or natives of Uyanzi. "The country of Uyanzi embraces many small districts, and extends along the left bank of the great river, from Bolobo, in south latitude 2° 23' 14", to the confluence of the Ibari Nkutu, or river of Nkutu, and the Livingstone, in 3° 14' south latitude. The principal districts are Bolobo, Isangu, Chumbiri, Musevoka, Misongo, and Ibaka. Opposite is the country of the Bateké, a wilder tribe than the Wy-yanzi, some of the more eastern of whom are professed cannibals. To the north is the cannibal tribe of the Wanfuninga, of ferocious repute, and dreaded by the Wy-yanzi and Bateké. "On the 7th of March we parted from the friendly king of Chumbiri, with an escort of forty-five men, in three canoes, under the leadership of his eldest son, who was instructed by his father to accompany us as far as the pool, now called Stanley Pool, because of an incident which will be described hereafter. "For some reason we crossed the river, and camped on the right bank, two miles below Chumbiri. At midnight the Wy-yanzi awoke us all by the fervor with which they employed their fetishes to guide us safely from camp to camp, which they named. As they had been very successful in charming away the rain with which we had been threatened the evening before, our people were delighted to hear them pray for success, having implicit faith in them." [Illustration: A BOWMAN.] CHAPTER XIV. TREACHERY OF THE KING'S SONS.--THE GREATEST RASCAL OF AFRICA.--A PYTHON IN CAMP.--STANLEY POOL.--DOVER CLIFFS.--MANKONEH.--FIRST SOUND OF THE FALLS.--BARGAINING FOR FOOD.--LOSS OF THE BIG GOAT.--EXCHANGING CHARMS.--FALL OF THE CONGO FROM NYANGWÉ TO STANLEY POOL.--GOING AROUND THE GREAT FALL.--DRAGGING THE BOATS OVERLAND.--GORDON-BENNET RIVER.--"THE CALDRON."--LOSS OF THE _LONDON TOWN_.--POOR KALULU.--HIS DEATH IN THE RIVER.--LOSS OF MEN BY DROWNING.--SAD SCENES IN CAMP. "The sons of the King of Chumbiri," said Frank, "proved treacherous. Soon after starting they lagged behind, and the explorers continued without them. Nothing of importance occurred during the day, and the camp was made for the night in a dense forest near the bank of the river. Hardly had the explorers landed before loud shrieks were heard from a boy who narrowly escaped being eaten by a python. Half an hour later the same python, or another, was found in another part of the camp trying to throw his folds about one of the women. There was great excitement, and the snake was promptly killed. He measured thirteen feet six inches in length, and was fifteen inches around the thickest part of the body. [Illustration: SON OF THE KING OF CHUMBIRI.] "The next morning, just as they were preparing breakfast, they were attacked by a party of savages who opened fire upon them with muskets. Fourteen of Mr. Stanley's men were wounded before the assailants were put to flight; when the expedition continued on its journey it was found that their camping-place had been about two miles above the village to which their assailants belonged. All the warriors of the village came out to the bank of the river with their muskets and spears, but the travellers kept at a safe distance and were not harmed. The sons of the king came up with them shortly afterwards, but made such extraordinary demands for escorting the party to the falls that the explorer concluded to go along without them. He gives it as his opinion that this oily-tongued king is the greatest rascal in all Africa. [Illustration: A PYTHON IN AN AFRICAN FOREST.] "And now," said Frank, "I will read to you about the approach to the famous falls of the lower Congo. "About 11 A.M. of the 12th the river gradually expanded from fourteen hundred to twenty-five hundred yards, which admitted us in view of a mighty breadth of river, which the men at once, with happy appropriateness, termed 'a pool.' Sandy islands rose in front of us like a sea-beach, and on the right towered a long row of cliffs, white and glistening, so like the cliffs of Dover that Frank at once exclaimed that it was a bit of England. The grassy table-land above the cliffs appeared as green as a lawn, and so much reminded Frank of Kentish Downs that he exclaimed enthusiastically, 'I feel we are nearing home.' "While I was taking an observation at noon of the position, Frank, with my glass in his hand, ascended the highest part of the large sandy dune that had been deposited by the mighty river, and took a survey of its strange and sudden expansion, and after he came back he said, 'Why, I declare, sir, this place is just like a pool; as broad as it is long. There are mountains all round it, and it appears to me almost circular.'[10] [10] "Frank described the crater of an extinct volcano, which is six miles in length and four miles wide, as set forth more in detail subsequently." "'Well, if it is a pool, we must distinguish it by some name. Give me a suitable name for it, Frank.' "'Why not call it "Stanley Pool," and these cliffs Dover Cliffs? For no traveller who may come here again will fail to recognize the cliffs by that name.' [Illustration: THE NORTHERN END OF STANLEY POOL.] "Subsequent events brought these words vividly to my recollection, and in accordance with Frank's suggestion I have named this lakelike expansion of the river from Dover Cliffs to the first cataract of the Livingstone Falls--embracing about thirty square miles--the Stanley Pool. The latitude of the entrance from above to the pool was ascertained to be 4° 3' south. "The left shore is occupied by the populous settlements of Nshasa, Nkunda, and Ntamo. The right is inhabited by the wild Bateké, who are generally accused of being cannibals. [Illustration: MAP OF STANLEY POOL.] "Soon after we began our descent of the pool, skirting the right shore, we observed a chalky mount, near which were two or three columns of the same material. From a cove just below emerged two or three Bateké canoes, the crews of which, after collecting their faculties, consented to show us the cataract, the noise of which, as they attempted to describe it, elicited roars of laughter from the members of the expedition. This outburst of loud merriment conquered all reluctance on the part of the Bateké to accompany us. "After winding in and out of many creeks which were very shallow, we approached the village of Mankoneh, the chief of the Bateké. His people during the daytime are generally scattered over these sandy dunes of the Stanley Pool attending to their nets and fish-snares, and to protect themselves from the hot sun always take with them several large mats to form sheds. Mankoneh, to our great delight, was a bluff, hearty, genial soul, who expressed unbounded pleasure at seeing us; he also volunteered to guide us to the falls. He was curious to know how we proposed travelling after arriving near them, for it was impossible, he said, to descend the falls. By a ludicrous pantomime he led us to understand that they were something very fearful. "A few hundred yards below his village the pool sharply contracted, and the shore of Ntamo--a projecting point from the crescent-shaped ridge beyond--appeared at a distance of two thousand yards. It was then that we heard for the first time the low and sullen thunder of the first cataract of the Livingstone Falls. "Slowly Mankoneh, in his canoe, glided down towards it, and louder it grew on the ears, until when within one hundred yards of the first line of broken water, he pointed forward and warned us not to proceed farther. We made for the shore, and found ourselves on a narrow, ledgelike terrace bristling with great blocks of granite, amid a jungly tangle, which grew at the base of high hills. Here, after a short busy period with axe and machete, we constructed a rude camp. The only level spot was not six feet square. "Mankoneh, the Bateké chief, pointed out to us the village of Itsi, the chief of Ntamo, which is situated on the left bank, in a line with the beginning of the first cataract, and spoke of Itsi with great respect, as though he were very powerful. "About 5 P.M. a small canoe was observed to cross over to our side from the left bank, a mile above the falls. The canoe-men, through the representations of our hearty friend Mankoneh, were soon induced to land in our camp to converse with the white men, and before long we had succeeded in making them feel quite at home with us. As they were in a quiver of anxious desire to impart to the chief Itsi all the wonderful things they had witnessed with us, they departed about sunset, solemnly promising we should see the famous Itsi of Ntamo next morning. "Lashing our canoes firmly lest an accident should happen during the night, we turned to our rude huts to sleep in peace. We were all very hungry, as we had been able to purchase nothing from the natives since leaving Chumbiri five days before, and we had been more than usually improvident, having placed far too much reliance on the representations so profusely made to us by the mild-voiced but cunning king of Chumbiri. From very shame I refrain from publishing the stores of goods with which I purchased the glib promises of assistance from Chumbiri, not one of which was realized. [Illustration: ONE OF THE KING'S WARRIORS.] "Morning of the 13th of March found us, from the early hours of dawn, anxiously waiting the arrival of Itsi of Ntamo and the reappearance of Mankoneh. From our camp we might easily with a glass note any movement on the other bank. At 9 A.M.--Itsi evidently was not an early riser--a large canoe and two consorts, laden with men, were seen propelled up stream along the left bank, and, a mile above the landing-place, to cross the river at a furious pace. The rows of upright figures, with long paddles, bending their bodies forward in unison, and their voices rising in a swelling chorus to the sound of the steady beat of a large drum, formed a pretty and inspiring sight. Arriving at the right bank, with a perfect recklessness of the vicinity of the falls, they dashed down towards our camp at the rate of six knots an hour. The large war-canoe, though not quite equal to the monster of the Aruwimi in size, was a noble vessel, and Itsi, who was seated in state 'midship,' with several gray-headed elders near him, was conscious, when he saw our admiration, that he had created a favorable impression. She measured eighty-five feet seven inches in length, four feet in width, and was three feet three inches deep. Her crew consisted of sixty paddlers and four steersmen, and she carried twenty-two passengers, close-packed, besides, making a total of eighty-six persons. The other two canoes carried ninety-two persons altogether. "We cordially invited Itsi and his people to our camp, to which they willingly responded. Some grass, fresh cut, in anticipation of the visit of our honorable friends, had been strewn over a cleared space close to the stream, and our best mats spread over it. [Illustration: AFRICAN RECLINING-CHAIR.] "There were four or five gray-headed elders present, one of whom was introduced as Itsi. He laughed heartily, and it was not long before we were on a familiar footing. They then broached the subject of blood-brotherhood. We were willing, but they wished to defer the ceremony until they had first shown their friendly feelings to us. Accordingly the old man handed over to me ten loaves of cassava bread, or cassava pudding, fifty tubers of cassava, three bunches of bananas, a dozen sweet potatoes, some sugar-cane, three fowls, and a diminutive goat. A young man of about twenty-six years made Frank's acquaintance by presenting to him double the quantity I received. This liberality drew my attention to him. His face was dotted with round spots of soot-and-oil mixture. From his shoulders depended a long cloth of check pattern, while over one shoulder was a belt, to which was attached a queer medley of small gourds containing snuff and various charms, which he called his Inkisi. In return for the bounteous store of provisions given to Frank and myself, as they were cotton or grass-cloth-wearing people, we made up a bundle of cloths for each of the principals, which they refused, to our surprise. We then begged to know what they desired, that we might show our appreciation of their kindness, and seal the bond of brotherhood with our blood. "The young man now declared himself to be Itsi, the King of Ntamo; the elder, who had previously been passed off for the king, being only an ancient councillor. It was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one, though there was nothing very regal or majestic about him, unless one may so call his munificent bounty to Frank as compared to the old man's to me. We finally prevailed upon Itsi to inform us what gift would be pleasing to him. "He said, 'I want only that big goat; if you give me that, I shall want nothing more.' [Illustration: A PRESENT FROM ITSI.] "The 'big goat' which he so earnestly required was the last of six couples I had purchased in Uregga for the purpose of presentation to an eminent English lady, in accordance with a promise I had made to her four years previously. All the others had perished from heat apoplexy, sickness, and want of proper care, which the terrible life we had led had prevented us from supplying. This 'big goat' and a lionlike ram, gigantic specimens of the domestic animals of Manyema and Uregga, were all that survived. They had both become quite attached to us, and were valued companions of a most eventful journey of eleven hundred miles. I refused it, but offered to double the cloths. Whereupon Itsi sulked, and prepared to depart; not, however, before hinting that we should find it difficult to obtain food if he vetoed the sale of provisions. We coaxed him back again to his seat, and offered him one of the asses. The possession of such a 'gigantic' animal as an ass, which was to him of all domestic animals a veritable Titanosaurus, was a great temptation; but the shuddering women, who feared being eaten by it, caused him to decline the honor of the gift. He now offered three goats for what appeared to him to be the 'largest' goat in Africa, and boasted of his goodness, and how his friendship would be serviceable to me; whereas, if he parted in anger, why, we should be entirely at his mercy. The goat was therefore transferred to his canoe, and Itsi departed for Ntamo, as though he were in possession of a new wonder. "Our provisions were only sufficient to prove what appetites we possessed, and not to assuage them; all were consumed in a few minutes, and we were left with only hopes of obtaining a little more on the next day. "On the 14th Itsi appeared with his war-canoe at 9 A.M., bringing three goats and twenty loaves of cassava bread and a few tubers, and an hour afterwards Nchuvira, King of Nkunda, Mankoneh, chief of the Bateké fishermen near the Stanley Pool, and the King of Nshasa, at the southeast end of the Stanley Pool, arrived at our camp with several canoe crews. Each of the petty sovereigns of the districts in our neighborhood contributed a little, but altogether we were only able to distribute to each person two pounds of eatable provisions. Every chief was eager for a present, with which he was gratified, and solemn covenants of peace were entered into between the whites and the blacks. The treaty with Itsi was exceedingly ceremonious, and involved the exchange of charms. Itsi transferred to me, for my protection through life, a small gourdful of a curious powder, which had rather a saline taste, and I delivered over to him, as the white man's charm against all evil, a half-ounce vial of magnesia; further, a small scratch in Frank's arm, and another in Itsi's arm, supplied blood sufficient to unite us in one and indivisible bond of fraternity. After this we were left alone. "An observation by boiling-point, above the first cataract of Livingstone Falls, disclosed to us an altitude of 1147 feet above the ocean. At Nyangwé the river was 2077 feet. In twelve hundred and thirty-five miles, therefore, there had been only a reduction of 930 feet, divided as follows: Distance Feet. in miles. Fall per mile. Nyangé 2077 } Four miles below seventh cataract, } Stanley Falls 1511 } ---- } 337 20 inches. Feet, 566 } Four miles below seventh cataract, Stanley Falls 1511 } River at Ntamo, above first cataract, } Livingstone Falls 1147 } 898 5 inches, ---- } River nearly. Feet, 364 } uninterrupted." Frank paused a few moments, and, at the request of one of his auditors, repeated the figures he had just given. Then he continued the narrative as follows: "The wide wild land which, by means of the greatest river of Africa, we have pierced, is now about to be presented in a milder aspect than that which has filled the preceding pages with records of desperate conflicts and furious onslaughts of savage men. The people no longer resist our advance. Trade has tamed their natural ferocity, until they no longer resent our approach with the fury of beasts of prey. [Illustration: FLOATING ISLAND IN STANLEY POOL.] "It is the dread river itself of which we shall have now to complain. It is no longer the stately stream, whose mystic beauty, noble grandeur, and gentle, uninterrupted flow along a course of nearly nine hundred miles ever fascinated us, despite the savagery of its peopled shores, but a furious river, rushing down a steep bed obstructed by reefs of lava, projected barriers of rock, lines of immense boulders, winding in crooked course through deep chasms, and dropping down over terraces in a long series of falls, cataracts, and rapids. Our frequent contests with the savages culminated in tragic struggles with the mighty river as it rushed and roared through the deep, yawning pass that leads from the broad table-land down to the Atlantic Ocean. "Those voiceless and lone streams meandering between the thousand isles of the Livingstone; those calm and silent wildernesses of water over which we had poured our griefs and wailed in our sorrow; those woody solitudes where nightly we had sought to soothe our fevered brows, into whose depths we breathed our vows; that sealike amplitude of water which had proved our refuge in distress, weird in its stillness, and solemn in its mystery, are now exchanged for the cliff-lined gorge, through which with inconceivable fury the Livingstone sweeps with foaming billows into the broad Congo, which, at a distance of only one hundred and fifty-five geographical miles, is nearly eleven hundred feet below the summit of the first fall. [Illustration: VILLAGE IN THE VALLEY OF THE CONGO.] "On the 16th of March, having explored as far as the Gordon-Bennett River, and obtained a clear idea of our situation during the 15th, we began our labors with energy. Goods, asses, women, and children, with the guard under Frank, first moved overland to a temporary halting-place near the confluence. Then, manning the boat, I led the canoe-men from point to point along the right bank, over the first rapids. We had some skilful work to perform to avoid being swept away by the velocity of the current; but whenever we came to rocks we held the rattan hawsers in our hands, and, allowing the stream to take them beyond these dangerous points, brought them into the sheltered lee. Had a hawser parted nothing could have saved the canoe or the men in it, for at the confluence of the Gordon-Bennett with the great river the entire river leaps headlong into an abysm of waves and foam. Arriving in the Gordon-Bennett, we transported the expedition across, and then our labors ended at 5 P.M. for the day. [Illustration: NATIVE POTTERY.] "Itsi of Ntamo had informed us there were only three cataracts, which he called the 'Child,' the 'Mother,' and the 'Father.' The 'Child' was a two hundred yards' stretch of broken water; and the 'Mother,' consisting of half a mile of dangerous rapids, we had succeeded in passing, and had pushed beyond it by crossing the upper branch of the Gordon-Bennett, which was an impetuous stream, seventy-five yards wide, with big cataracts of its own higher up. But the 'Father' is the wildest stretch of river that I have ever seen. Take a strip of sea blown over by a hurricane, four miles in length and half a mile in breadth, and a pretty accurate conception of its leaping waves may be obtained. Some of the troughs were one hundred yards in length, and from one to the other the mad river plunged. There was first a rush down into the bottom of an immense trough, and then, by its sheer force, the enormous volume would lift itself upward steeply until, gathering itself into a ridge, it suddenly hurled itself twenty or thirty feet straight upward, before rolling down into another trough. If I looked up or down along this angry scene, every interval of fifty or one hundred yards of it was marked by wave-towers--their collapse into foam and spray, the mad clash of watery hills, bounding mounds, and heaving billows, while the base of either bank, consisting of a long line of piled boulders of massive size, was buried in the tempestuous surf. The roar was tremendous and deafening. I can only compare it to the thunder of an express train through a rock tunnel. To speak to my neighbor, I had to bawl in his ear. "The most powerful ocean steamer, going at full speed on this portion of the river, would be as helpless as a cockle-boat. I attempted three times, by watching some tree floated down from above, to ascertain the rate of the wild current by observing the time it occupied in passing between two given points, from which I estimate it to be about thirty miles an hour! [Illustration: VIEW OF THE RIGHT BRANCH, FIRST CATARACT, OF THE LIVINGSTONE FALLS, FROM FOUR MILES BELOW JUMBA ISLAND.] "On the 17th, after cutting brushwood and laying it over a path of eight hundred yards in length, we crossed from the upper branch of the Gordon-Bennett to the lower branch, which was of equal breadth, but twenty feet below it. This enabled us the next day to float down to the confluence of the lower branch with the Livingstone. We could do no more on this day; the people were fainting from lack of food. "On the 18th, through the good-will of Mankoneh, the chief of the Bateké, we were enabled to trade with the aborigines, a wild and degraded tribe, subsisting principally on fish and cassava. A goat was not to be obtained at any price, and for a chicken they demanded a gun! Cassava, however, was abundant. "From the confluence we formed another brush-covered road, and hauled the canoes over another eight hundred yards into a creek, which enabled us to reach, on the 20th, a wide sand-bar that blocked its passage into the great river. The sand-bar, in its turn, enabled us to reach the now moderated stream, below the influence of the roaring 'Father,' and to proceed by towing and punting half a mile below to an inlet in the rocky shore. "Gampa, the young chief of this district, became very friendly, and visited us each day with small gifts of cassava bread, a few bananas, and a small gourd of palm-wine. "On the 21st and the two days following we were engaged in hauling our vessels overland, a distance of three quarters of a mile, over a broad rocky point, into a baylike formation. Gampa and his people nerved us to prosecute our labors by declaring that there was only one small cataract below. Full of hope, we halted on the 24th to rest the wearied people, and in the meantime to trade for food. [Illustration: OVER ROCKY POINT CLOSE TO GAMPA'S.] "The 25th saw us at work at dawn in a bad piece of river, which is significantly styled the 'Caldron.' Our best canoe, seventy-five feet long, three feet wide, by twenty-one inches deep, the famous _London Town_, commanded by Manwa Sera, was torn from the hands of fifty men, and swept away in the early morning down to destruction. In the afternoon, the _Glasgow_, parting her cables, was swept away, drawn nearly into mid-river, returned up river half a mile, again drawn into the depths, ejected into a bay near where Frank was camped, and, to our great joy, finally recovered. Accidents were numerous; the glazed trap-rocks, washed by the ever-rising tidal-like waves, were very slippery, occasioning dangerous falls to the men. One man dislocated his shoulder, another was bruised on the hips, and another had a severe contusion of the head. Too careless of my safety in my eagerness and anxiety, I fell down, feet first, into a chasm thirty feet deep between two enormous boulders, but fortunately escaped with only a few rib bruises, though for a short time I was half stunned. [Illustration: AT WORK PASSING THE LOWER END OF THE FIRST CATARACT OF THE LIVINGSTONE FALLS, NEAR ROCKY ISLAND.] "On the 27th we happily succeeded in passing the fearful Caldron, but during our last efforts the _Crocodile_, eighty-five feet three inches long, was swept away into the centre of the Caldron, heaved upward, whirled round with quick gyrations, and finally shot into the bay north of Rocky Island, where it was at last secured. The next day we dropped down stream, and reached the western end of the bay above Rocky Island Falls. "Leaving Frank Pocock as usual in charge of the camp and goods, I mustered ninety men--most of the others being stiff from wounds received in the fight at Mwana Ibaka and other places--and proceeded, by making a wooden tramway with sleepers and rollers, to pass Rocky Island Falls. Mpwapwa and Shumari, of the boat's crew, were sent to explore, meanwhile, for another inlet or recess in the right bank. By 2 P.M. we were below the falls, and my two young men had returned, reporting that a mile or so below there was a fine camp, with a broad strip of sand lining a bay. This animated us to improve the afternoon hours by attemtping to reach it. The seventeen canoes now left to us were manned according to their capacity. As I was about to embark in my boat to lead the way, I turned to the people to give my last instructions--which were, to follow me, clinging to the right bank, and by no means to venture into mid-river into the current. While delivering my instructions, I observed Kalulu in the _Crocodile_, which was made out of the _Bassia Parkii_ tree, a hard, heavy wood, but admirable for canoes. When I asked him what he wanted in the canoe, he replied, with a deprecating smile and an expostulating tone, 'I can pull, sir; see!' 'Ah, very well,' I answered. "The boat-boys took their seats, and, skirting closely the cliffy shore, we rowed down stream, while I stood in the bow of the boat, guiding the coxswain, Uledi, with my hand. The river was not more than four hundred and fifty yards wide; but one cast of the sounding-lead close to the bank obtained a depth of one hundred and thirty-eight feet. The river was rapid, with certainly a seven-knot current, with a smooth, greasy surface, now and then an eddy, a gurgle, and gentle heave, but not dangerous to people in possession of their wits. In a very few moments we had descended the mile stretch, and before us, six hundred yards off, roared the furious falls since distinguished by the name 'Kalulu.' [Illustration: AFRICAN PIPES.] "With a little effort we succeeded in rounding the point and entering the bay above the falls, and reaching a pretty camping-place on a sandy beach. The first, second, and third canoes arrived soon after me, and I was beginning to congratulate myself on having completed a good day's work, when to my horror I saw the _Crocodile_ in mid-river far below the point which we had rounded, gliding with the speed of an arrow towards the falls over the treacherous calm water. Human strength availed nothing now, and we watched in agony, for I had three favorites in her--Kalulu, Mauredi, and Ferajji; and of the others, two, Rehani Makua and Wadi Jumah, were also very good men. It soon reached the island which cleft the falls, and was swept down the left branch. We saw it whirled round three or four times, then plunged down into the depths, out of which the stern presently emerged pointed upward, and we knew then that Kalulu and his canoe-mates were no more. [Illustration: DEATH OF KALULU.] "Fast upon this terrible catastrophe, before we could begin to bewail their loss, another canoe with two men in it darted past the point, borne by irresistibly on the placid but swift current to apparent, nay, almost certain destruction. I despatched my boat's crew up along the cliffs to warn the forgetful people that in mid-stream was certain death, and shouted out commands for the two men to strike for the left shore. The steersman by a strange chance shot his canoe over the falls, and, dexterously edging it towards the left shore a mile below, he and his companion contrived to spring ashore and were saved. As we observed them clamber over the rocks to approach a point opposite us, and finally sit down regarding us in silence across the river, our pity and love gushed strong towards them, but we could utter nothing of it. The roar of the falls completely mocked and overpowered the feeble human voice. "Before the boat's crew could well reach the descending canoes, the boulders being very large and offering great obstacles to rapid progress, a third canoe--but a small and light one--with only one man, the brave lad Soudi, who escaped from the spears of the Wanyaturu assassins in 1875, darted by, and cried out, as he perceived himself to be drifting helplessly towards the falls, 'La il Allah, il Allah'--There is but one God--'I am lost! Master!' He was then seen to address himself to what fate had in store for him. We watched him for a few moments, and then saw him drop. Out of the shadow of the fall he presently emerged, dropping from terrace to terrace, precipitated down, then whirled round, caught by great heavy waves, which whisked him to right and left and struck madly at him, and yet his canoe did not sink, but he and it were swept behind the lower end of the island, and then darkness fell upon the day of horror. Nine men lost in one afternoon! "This last accident, I was told, was caused by the faithlessness of the crew. One man, utterly unnerved by his fear of the river, ran away and hid in the bushes; the two others lost their hold of the tow-ropes, and thus their comrade was carried into the swift centre." Frank stopped at this incident, and said he would resume the story in the evening. His audience had listened with breathless interest to the sad story of the death of Kalulu and his companions, and when the party assembled for the evening session, all were eager to hear the continuation of the account of Stanley's perilous descent of the Congo. [Illustration: ONE OF GAMPA'S MEN.] CHAPTER XV. THE FRIENDLY BATEKÉ.--GREAT SNAKES.--SOUDI'S STRANGE ADVENTURES.--CAPTURED BY HOSTILE NATIVES.--DESCENDING RAPIDS AND FALLS.--LOSS OF A CANOE.--"WHIRLPOOL RAPIDS."--THE _LADY ALICE_ IN PERIL.--GAVUBU'S COVE.--"LADY ALICE" RAPIDS.--A PERILOUS DESCENT.--ALARM OF STANLEY'S PEOPLE.--TRIBUTARY STREAMS.--PANIC AMONG THE CANOE-MEN.--NATIVE VILLAGES.--INKISI FALLS.--TUCKEY'S CATARACT.--A ROAD OVER A MOUNTAIN.--AMONG THE BABWENDÉ.--AFRICAN MARKETS.--TRADING AMONG THE TRIBES.--SHOELESS TRAVELLERS.--EXPERIMENTS IN COOKING.--LIMITED STOCK OF PROVISIONS.--CENTRAL AFRICAN ANTS.--"JIGGAS."--DANGERS OF UNPROTECTED FEET. Promptly at the hour all were in their places. Frank was ready with the opened book, from which he read: "On the 30th of March a messenger was despatched to Frank to superintend the transport of the goods overland to where I had arrived with the boat. The natives continued to be very amiable, and food was abundant and cheap. They visited our camp from morning to night, bringing their produce from a great distance. They are a very gentle and harmless tribe, the western Bateké, and distinguishable by four cicatrices down each cheek. They are also remarkable for their numerous bird-snares--bird-lime being furnished by the _Ficus sycamorus_--and traps. About sunset a wide-spreading flock of large birds like parrots passed northeast over our camp, occupying nearly half an hour in passing. They were at too great an altitude to be recognized. Lead-colored water-snakes were very numerous, the largest being about seven feet in length and two and one half inches in diameter. [Illustration: VILLAGE IDOLS.] "Confined within the deep, narrow valley of the river, the hills rising to the height of about eight hundred feet above us, and exposed to the continued uproar of the river, we became almost stunned during our stay of the 31st. "On the 1st of April we cleared the Kalulu Fulls, and camped on the right bank below them. Our two absentees on the left side had followed us, and were signalling frequently to us, but we were helpless. The next day we descended a mile and a half of rapids, and in the passage one more canoe was lost, which reduced our flotilla to thirteen vessels. "About 2 P.M., to the general joy, appeared young Soudi and our two absentees who the day before had been signalling us from the opposite side of the river! "Soudi's adventures had been very strange. He had been swept down over the upper and lower Kalulu Falls and the intermediate rapids, and had been whirled round so often that he became confused. 'But clinging to my canoe,' he said, 'the wild river carried me down and down and down, from place to place, sometimes near a rock, and sometimes near the middle of the stream, until an hour after dark, when I saw it was near a rock; I jumped out, and, catching my canoe, drew it on shore. I had scarcely finished when my arms were seized, and I was bound by two men, who hurried me up to the top of the mountain, and then for an hour over the high land, until we came to a village. They then pushed me into a house, where they lit a fire, and when it was bright they stripped me naked and examined me. Though I pretended not to understand them, I knew enough to know that they were proud of their prize. They spoke kindly to me, and gave me plenty to eat; and while one of them slept, the other watched sharp lest I should run away. In the morning it was rumored over the village that a handsome slave was captured from a strange tribe, and many people came to see me, one of whom had seen us at Ntamo, and recognized me. This man immediately charged the two men with having stolen one of the white man's men, and he drew such a picture of you, master, with large eyes of fire and long hair, who owned a gun that shot all day, that all the people became frightened, and compelled the two men to take me back to where they had found me. They at once returned me my clothes, and brought me to the place near where I had tied my canoe. They then released me, saying, "Go to your king; here is food for you; and do not tell him what we have done to you; but tell him you met friends who saved you, and it shall be well with us."' "The other two men, seeking for means to cross the river, met Soudi sitting by his canoe. The three became so much encouraged at one another's presence that they resolved to cross the river rather than endure further anxiety in a strange land. Despair gave them courage, and though the river was rapid, they succeeded in crossing, a mile below the place they had started from, without accident. "On the 3d of April we descended another mile and a half of dangerous rapids, during which several accidents occurred. One canoe was upset which contained fifty tusks of ivory and a sack of beads. Four men had narrow escapes from drowning, but Uledi, my coxswain, saved them. I myself tumbled headlong into a small basin, and saved myself with difficulty from being swept away by the receding tide. [Illustration: HILLY REGION BACK FROM THE RIVER.] "Our system of progress was to begin each day with Frank leading the expedition overland to a camp at the head of some inlet, cove, or recess, near rapids or falls, where, with the older men, women, and children, he constructed a camp; the working party, consisting of the younger men, returning to assist me with the canoes down to the new camp. Anxious for the safety of the people, I superintended the river work myself, and each day led the way in the boat. On approaching rapids I selected three or four of the boat's crew (and always Uledi, the coxswain), and clambered along the great rocks piled along the base of the steeply sloping hills, until I had examined the scene. If the rapids or fall were deemed impassable by water, I planned the shortest and safest route across the projecting points, and then, mustering the people, strewed a broad track with bushes, over which, as soon as completed, we set to work to haul our vessels beyond the dangerous water, when we lowered them into the river, and pursued our way to camp, where Frank would be ready to give me welcome, and such a meal as the country afforded. "At Gamfwé's the natives sold us abundance of bread, or rolls of pudding, of cassava flour, maize, cassava leaves, water-cresses, and the small Strychnos fruit, and, for the first time, lemons. Fowls were very dear, and a goat was too expensive a luxury in our now rapidly impoverishing state. "On the 8th we descended from Gamfwé's to 'Whirlpool Narrows,' opposite Umvilingya. When near there we perceived that the eddy tides, which rushed up river along the bank, required very delicate and skilful manoeuvring. I experimented on the boat first, and attempted to haul her by cables round a rocky point from the bay near Whirlpool Narrows. Twice they snapped ropes and cables, and the second time the boat flew up river, borne on the crests of brown waves, with only Uledi and two men in her. Presently she wheeled into the bay, following the course of the eddy, and Uledi brought her in-shore. The third time we tried the operation with six cables of twisted rattan, about two hundred feet in length, with five men to each cable. The rocks rose singly in precipitous masses fifty feet above the river, and this extreme height increased the difficulty and rendered footing precarious, for furious eddies of past ages had drilled deep circular pits, like ovens, in them, four, six, even ten feet deep. However, with the utmost patience we succeeded in rounding these enormous blocks, and hauling the boat against the uneasy eddy tide to where the river resumed its natural downward flow. Below this, as I learned, were some two miles of boisterous water; but mid-river, though foaming in places, was not what we considered dangerous. We therefore resolved to risk it in mid-stream, and the boat's crew, never backward when they knew what lay in front of them, manned the boat, and in fifteen minutes we had taken her into a small creek near Umvilingya's landing, which ran up river between a ridge of rocks and the right bank. This act instilled courage into the canoe-men, and the boat-boys having volunteered to act as steersmen, with Frank as leader, all manned the canoes next morning, and succeeded in reaching my camp in good time without accident, though one canoe was taken within two hundred yards of Round Island Falls, between Isameh's and Umvilingya's. "At this place Frank and I treated ourselves to a pig, which we purchased from the chief Umvilingya for four cloths, we having been more than two weeks without meat. [Illustration: "LADY ALICE" OVER THE FALLS.] "On the 10th, having, because of illness, intrusted the boat to Manwa Sera and Uledi, they managed to get her jammed between two rocks near the entrance to Gavubu's Cove, and, as the after-section was sunk for a time, it appeared that the faithful craft would be lost here after her long and wonderful journey. Springing from my bed upon hearing of the threatened calamity, I mustered twenty active men and hastened to the scene, and soon, by inspiring every man to do his best, we were able to lift her out of her dangerous position, and take her to camp apparently uninjured. [Illustration: NATIVE MILL FOR GRINDING CORN.] "The lower end of Gavubu's Cove was reached on the 11th, and the next day by noon the land party and canoes were taken safely to the lower end of Garafwé's Bay. As our means were rapidly diminishing in this protracted struggle we maintained against the natural obstacles to our journey, we could only hope to reach the sea by resolute and continual industry during every hour of daylight. I accordingly instructed the canoe-men to be ready to follow me, as soon as they should be informed by a messenger that the boat had safely arrived in camp. "The commencement of "Lady Alice" Rapids was marked by a broad fall, and an interruption to the rapidly rushing river by a narrow ridgy islet of great rocks, which caused the obstructed stream to toss its waters in lateral waves against the centre, where they met waves from the right bank, and overlapping formed a lengthy dyke of foaming water. "Strong cane cables were lashed to the bow and stern, and three men were detailed to each, while five men assisted me in the boat. A month's experience of this kind of work had made us skilful and bold. But the rapids were more powerful, the river was much more contracted, and the impediments were greater than usual. On our right was an upright wall of massive boulders terminating in a narrow terrace three hundred feet high; behind the terrace, at a little distance, rose the rude hills to the height of twelve hundred feet above the river; above the hills rolled the table-land. On our left, four hundred yards from the bouldery wall, rose a lengthy and stupendous cliff line topped by a broad belt of forest, and at its base rose three rocky islets, one below another, against which the river dashed itself, disparting with a roaring surge. "We had scarcely ventured near the top of the rapids when, by a careless slackening of the stern cable, the current swept the boat from the hands of that portion of her crew whose duty it was to lower her carefully and cautiously down the fall, to the narrow line of ebb-flood below the rocky projection. Away into the centre of the angry, foaming, billowy stream the boat darted, dragging one man into the maddened flood, to whom, despite our awful position, I was able to lend a hand and lift into the boat. [Illustration: FALLS ON A TRIBUTARY STREAM.] "'Oars, my boys, and be steady! Uledi, to the helm!' were all the instructions I was able to shout, after which, standing at the bow of the boat, I guided the coxswain with my hand; for now, as we rode downward furiously on the crests of the proud waves, the human voice was weak against the overwhelming thunder of the angry river. Oars were only useful to assist the helm, for we were flying at a terrific speed past the series of boulders which strangled the river. Never did the rocks assume such hardness, such solemn grimness and bigness, never were they invested with such terrors and such grandeur of height, as while we were the cruel sport and prey of the brown-black waves, which whirled us round like a spinning-top, swung us aside, almost engulfed us in the rapidly subsiding troughs, and then hurled us upon the white, rageful crests of others. Ah! with what feelings we regarded this awful power which the great river had now developed! How we cringed under its imperious, compelling, and irresistible force! What lightning retrospects we cast upon our past lives! How impotent we felt before it! "'La il Allah, il Allah!' screamed young Mabruki. 'We are lost! yes, we are lost!' [Illustration: AN UPLAND STREAM AND NATIVE BRIDGE.] "After two miles we were abreast of the bay, or indentation, at which we had hoped to camp, but the strong river mocked our efforts to gain it. The flood was resolved we should taste the bitterness of death. A sudden rumbling noise, like the deadened sound of an earthquake, caused us to look below, and we saw the river heaved bodily upward, as though a volcano were about to belch around us. Up to the summit of this watery mound we were impelled; and then, divining what was about to take place, I shouted out, 'Pull, men, for your lives!' "A few frantic strokes drove us to the lower side of the mound, and before it had finished subsiding, and had begun its usual fatal circling, we were precipitated over a small fall, and sweeping down towards the inlet into which the Nkenké Cataract tumbled, below the lowest lines of breakers of the Lady Alice Rapids. Once or twice we were flung scornfully aside, and spun around contemptuously, as though we were too insignificant to be wrecked; then, availing ourselves of a calm moment, we resumed our oars, and soon entering the ebb-tide, rowed up river and reached the sandy beach at the junction of the Nkenké with the Livingstone. Arriving on shore, I despatched Uledi and young Shumari to run to meet the despairing people above, who had long before this been alarmed by the boat-boys, whose carelessness had brought about this accident, and by the sympathizing natives who had seen us, as they reported, sink in the whirlpools. In about an hour a straggling line of anxious souls appeared; and all that love of life and living things, with the full sense of the worth of living, returned to my heart, as my faithful followers rushed up one after another with their exuberant welcome to life, which gushed out of them in gesture, feature, and voice. And Frank, my amiable and trusty Frank, was neither last nor least in his professions of love and sympathy, and gratitude to Him who had saved us from a watery grave. [Illustration: THE NKENKÉ RIVER ENTERING THE LIVINGSTONE BELOW THE LADY ALICE RAPIDS.] "The land party then returned with Frank to remove the goods to our new camp, and by night my tent was pitched within a hundred yards of the cataract mouth of the Nkenké. We had four cataracts in view of us: the great river which emptied itself into the baylike expanse from the last line of the Lady Alice Rapids; two miles below, the river fell again, in a foamy line of waves; from the tall cliff south of us tumbled a river four hundred feet into the great river; and on our right, one hundred yards off, the Nkenké rushed down steeply like an enormous cascade from the height of one thousand feet. "Very different was this scene of towering cliffs and lofty mountain walls, which daily discharged the falling streams from the vast uplands above and buried us within the deafening chasm, to that glassy flow of the Livingstone by the black, eerie forests of Usongora, Meno, and Kasera, and through the upper lands of the cannibal Wenya, where a single tremulous wave was a rarity. We now, surrounded by the daily terrors and hope-killing shocks of these apparently endless cataracts, and the loud boom of their baleful fury, remembered, with regretful hearts, the Sabbath stillness and dreamy serenity of those days. Beautiful was it then to glide among the lazy creeks of the spicy and palm-growing isles, where the broad-leafed Amomum vied in greenness with the drooping fronds of the Phrynium, where the myrrh and bdellium shrubs exhaled their fragrance side by side with the wild cassia, where the capsicum with its red-hot berries rose in embowering masses, and the Ipomoea's purple buds gemmed with color the tall stem of some sturdy tree. Environed by most dismal prospects, forever dinned by terrific sound, at all points confronted by the most hopeless outlook, we think that an Eden which we have left behind, and this a watery hell wherein we now are. "Though our involuntary descent of the Lady Alice Rapids from Gamfwé's Bay to Nkenké River Bay--a distance of three miles--occupied us but fifteen minutes, it was a work of four days to lower the canoes by cables. Experience of the vast force of the flood, and the brittleness of the rattan cables, had compelled us to fasten eight cables to each canoe, and to detail five men to each cable for the passage of the rapids. Yet, with all our precautions, almost each hour was marked with its special accident to man or canoe. One canoe, with a man named Nubi in it, was torn from the hands of forty men, swept down two miles, and sunk in the great whirlpool. Nubi clung to his vessel until taken down a second time, when he and the canoe were ejected fifty yards apart, but, being an expert swimmer, he regained it in the Nkenké basin, and astride of its keel was circling round with the strong ebb-tide, when he was saved by the dashing Uledi and his young brother Shumari. "While returning to my labors along the bouldery heap which lined the narrow terrace opposite the islets, I observed another canoe, which contained the chief Waldi Rehani and two of my boat-bearers, Chiwonda and Muscati, drifting down helplessly near the verge of some slack water. The three men were confused, and benumbed with terror at the roar and hissing of the rapids. Being comparatively close to them, on the edge of a high crag, I suddenly shot out my voice with the full power of my lungs, in sharp, quick accents of command to paddle ashore, and the effect was wonderful. It awoke them like soldiers to the call of duty, and after five minutes' energetic use of their paddles they were saved. I have often been struck at the power of a quick, decisive tone. It appears to have an electric effect, riding rough-shod over all fears, indecision, and tremor, and, just as in this instance, I had frequently up river, when the people were inclined to get panic-stricken, or to despair, restored them to a sense of duty by affecting the sharp-cutting, steel-like, and imperious tone of voice, which seemed to be as much of a compelling power as powder to a bullet. But it should be remembered that a too frequent use of it spoils its effect. [Illustration: MODE OF PASSING BOATS OVER THE FALLS.] "From the 18th to the 21st we were busy among rapids and whirlpools, which brought us into Babwendé territory, where we encamped. Nsangu, a village of the Basessé, was opposite our camp, crowning with its palms and fields a hilly terrace projected from the mountain range, at whose richly wooded slopes or cliffy front, based with a long line of great boulders, we each day looked from the right bank of the river. The villagers sent a deputation to us with palm-wine and a small gift of cassava tubers. Upon asking them if there were any more cataracts, they replied that there was only one, and they exaggerated it so much that the very report struck terror and dismay into our people. They described it as falling from a height greater than the position on which their village was situated, which drew exclamations of despair from my followers. I, on the other hand, rather rejoiced at this, as I believed it might be 'Tuckey's Cataract,' which seemed to be eternally receding as we advanced. While the Bateké above had constantly held out flattering prospects of 'only one more' cataract, I had believed that one to be Tuckey's Cataract, because map-makers have laid down a great navigably reach of river between Tuckey's upper cataract and the Yellala Falls--hence our object in clinging to the river, despite all obstacles, until that ever-receding cataract was reached. The distance we had labored through from the 16th of March to the 21st of April inclusive, a period of thirty-seven days, was only thirty-four miles! "On the 26th we reached the terrific fall described by the Basessé people. The falls are called Inkisi, or the 'Charm;' they have no clear drop, but the river, being forced through a chasm only five hundred yards wide, is flanked by curling waves of destructive fury, which meet in the centre, overlap, and strike each other, while below is an absolute chaos of mad waters, leaping waves, deep troughs, contending watery ridges, tumbling and tossing for a distance of two miles. The commencement of this gorge is a lengthy island which seems to have been a portion or slice of the table-land fallen flat, as it were, from a height of one thousand feet. "The natives above Inkisi descended from their breezy homes on the table-land to visit the strangers. I asked if there was another cataract below. 'No,' said they, 'at least only a little one, which you can pass without trouble.' "'Ah,' thought I to myself, 'this great cataract then must be Tuckey's Cataract, and the "little one," I suppose, was too contemptible an affair to be noticed, or perhaps it was covered over by high water, for map-makers have a clear, wide--three miles wide--stream to the Falls of Yellala. Good! I will haul my canoes up the mountain and pass over the table-land, as I must now cling to this river to the end, having followed it so long.' "My resolution was soon communicated to my followers, who looked perfectly blank at the proposition. The natives heard me, and, seeing the silence and reluctance of the people, they asked the cause, and I told them it was because I intended to drag our vessels up the mountain. "Having decided upon the project, it only remained to make a road and to begin, but in order to obtain the assistance of the aborigines, which I was anxious for, in order to relieve my people from much of the fatigue, the first day all hands were mustered for road-making. Our numerous axes, which we had purchased in Manyema and in Uregga, came into very efficient use now, for, by night, a bush-strewn path fifteen hundred yards in length had been constructed. [Illustration: VILLAGE ON THE TABLE-LAND.] "By 8 A.M. of the 26th our exploring-boat and a small canoe were on the summit of the table-land at a new camp we had formed. As the feat was performed without ostentation, the native chiefs were in a state of agreeable wonder. After an hour's 'talk' and convivial drinking of palm-wine they agreed, for a gift of forty cloths, to bring six hundred men to assist us to haul up the monster canoes we possessed, two or three of which were of heavy teak, over seventy feet in length, and weighing over three tons. A large number of my men were then detailed to cut rattan canes as a substitute for ropes, and as many were brittle and easily broken, this involved frequent delays. Six men under Kachéché were also despatched overland to a distance of ten miles to explore the river, and to prepare the natives for our appearance. "By the evening of the 28th all our vessels were safe on the highest part of the table-land. Having become satisfied that all was going well in camp, and that Manwa Sera and his men were capable of superintending it, with the aid of the natives, I resolved to take Frank and the boat's crew, women, and children, and goods of the expedition, to the frontier of Nzabi, and establish a camp near the river, at a point where we should again resume our toil in the deep defile through which the mighty river stormed along its winding course. [Illustration: A FIGURE IN THE MARKET-PLACE.] "The Babwendé natives were exceedingly friendly, even more so than the amiable Bateké. Gunpowder was abundant with them, and every male capable of carrying a gun possessed one, often more. Delft ware and British crockery were also observed in their hands, such as plates, mugs, shallow dishes, wash-basins, galvanized iron spoons, Birmingham cutlery, and other articles of European manufacture obtained through the native markets, which are held in an open space between each district. For example, Nzabi district holds a market on a Monday, and Babwendé from Zinga, Mowa farther down, and Inkisi, and Basessé, from across the river attend, as there is a ferry below Zinga, and articles such as European salt, gunpowder, guns, cloth, crockery, glass, and iron ware, of which the currency consists, are bartered for produce such as ground-nuts, palm-oil, palm-nuts, palm-wine, cassava bread and tubers, yams, maize, sugar-cane, beans, native earthenware, onions, lemons, bananas, guavas, sweet limes, pineapples, black pigs, goats, fowls, eggs, ivory, and a few slaves, who are generally Bateké or Northern Basundi. On Tuesday the district above Inkisi Falls holds its market, at which Mowa, Nzabi, and the district above Inkisi attend. On Wednesday the Umvilingya, Lemba, and Nsangu districts hold a market. On Thursday most of the Babwendé cross the river over to Nsangu, and the Basessé have the honor of holding a market on their own soil. On Friday the market is again held at Nzabi, and the series runs its course in the same order. Thus, without trading caravans or commercial expeditions, the aborigines of these districts are well supplied with almost all they require without the trouble and danger of proceeding to the coast. From district to district, market to market, and hand to hand, European fabrics and wares are conveyed along both sides of the river, and along the paths of traffic. By this mode of traffic a keg of powder landed at Funta, Ambriz, Ambrizette, or Kinsembo, requires about five years to reach the Bangala. The first musket was landed in Angola in about the latter part of the fifteenth century, for Diogo Cão only discovered the mouth of the Congo in 1485. It has taken three hundred and ninety years for four muskets to arrive at Rubunga in Nganza, nine hundred and sixty-five miles from Point de Padrão, where Diogo Cão erected his memorial column in honor of the discovery of the Congo. [Illustration: AFRICAN MARKET SCENE.] "We discovered cloth to be so abundant among the Babwendé that it was against our conscience to purchase even a fowl, for, naturally, the nearer we approached civilization cloth became cheaper in value, until finally a fowl cost four yards of our thick sheeting! Frank and I therefore lived upon the same provisions as our people. Our store of sugar had run out in Uregga, our coffee was finished at Vinya Njara, and at Inkisi Falls our tea, alas! alas! came to an end. [Illustration: VIEW IN THE BABWENDÉ COUNTRY.] "What would we not have given for a pair of shoes apiece? Though I had kept one pair of worn-out shoes by me, my last new pair had been put on in the jungles of doleful Uregga, and now six weeks' rough wear over the gritty iron and clink-stone, trap, and granite blocks along the river had ground through soles and uppers, until I began to feel anxious. Frank had been wearing sandals made out of my leather portmanteaus, and slippers out of our gutta-percha pontoon; but climbing over the rocks and rugged steeps wore them to tatters in such quick succession, that it was with the utmost difficulty that I was enabled, by appealing to the pride of the white man, to induce him to persevere in the manufacture of sandals for his own use. Frequently, on suddenly arriving in camp from my wearying labors, I would discover him with naked feet, and would reprove him for shamelessly exposing his white feet to the vulgar gaze of the aborigines! In Europe this would not be considered indelicate, but in barbarous Africa the feet should be covered as much as the body; for there is a small modicum of superiority shown even in clothing the feet. Not only on moral grounds did I urge him to cover his feet, but also for his own comfort and health; for the great cataract gorge and table-land above it, besides abounding in ants, mosquitoes, and vermin, are infested with three dangerous insects, which prey upon the lower limbs of man--the 'jigga' from Brazil, the guinea-worm, and an entozoon, which, depositing its eggs in the muscles, produces a number of short, fat worms and severe tumors. I also discovered, from the examples in my camp, that the least abrasion of the skin was likely, if not covered, to result in an ulcer. My own person testified to this, for an injury to the thumb of my left hand, injured by a fall on the rocks at Gamfwé's, had culminated in a painful wound, which I daily cauterized; but though bathed, burned, plastered, and bandaged twice a day, I had been at this time a sufferer for over a month. "In the absence of positive knowledge as to how long we might be toiling in the cataracts, we were all compelled to be extremely economical. Goat and pig meat were such luxuries that we declined to think of them as being possible with our means; tea, coffee, sugar, sardines, were fast receding into the memory-land of past pleasures, and chickens had reached such prices that they were rare in our camp. We possessed one ram from far Uregga, and Mirambo, the black riding-ass--the other two asses had died a few weeks before--but we should have deserved the name of cannibals had we dared to think of sacrificing the pets of the camp. Therefore--by the will of the gods--contentment had to be found in boiled 'duff,' or cold cassava bread, ground-nuts, or peanuts, yams, and green bananas. To make such strange food palatable was an art that we possessed in a higher degree than our poor comrades. They were supplied with the same materials as we ourselves, but the preparation was different. My dark followers simply dried their cassava, and then, pounding it, made the meal into porridge. Ground-nuts they threw into the ashes, and when sufficiently baked ate them like hungry men. [Illustration: NYITTI, AN AFRICAN POTATO.] "For me such food was too crude; besides, my stomach, called to sustain a brain and body strained to the utmost by responsibilities, required that some civility should be shown to it. Necessity roused my faculties, and a jaded stomach goaded my inventive powers to a high pitch. I called my faithful cook, told him to clean and wash mortar and pestle for the preparation of a 'high art' dish. Frank approached also to receive instruction, so that, in my absence, he might remind Marzouk, the cook, of each particular. First we rinsed in clear, cold brook-water from the ravines some choice cassava, or manioc tops, and these were placed in the water to be bruised. Marzouk understood this part very well, and soon pounded them to the consistence of a green porridge. To this I then added fifty shelled nuts of the _Arachis hypogoea_, three small specimens of the _Dioscorea alata_, boiled and sliced cold; a tablespoonful of oil extracted from the _Arachis hypogoea_; a tablespoonful of wine of the _Elais Guineensis_, a little salt, and sufficient powdered capsicum. This imposing and admirable mixture was pounded together, fried, and brought into the tent, along with toasted cassava pudding, hot and steaming, on the only Delft plate we possessed. Within a few minutes our breakfast was spread out on the medicine-chest which served me for a table, and at once a keen appetite was inspired by the grateful smell of my artful compound. After invoking a short blessing Frank and I rejoiced our souls and stomachs with the savory mess, and flattered ourselves that, though British paupers and Sing-Sing convicts might fare better, perhaps, thankful content crowned our hermit repast." [Illustration: UGOGO COOKING-POT.] "That will do for this evening," said Frank, as he closed the book at the end of the chapter. "We will leave Mr. Stanley and his only white companion at their frugal feast, and congratulate them on their ingenuity in making the most that was possible out of the limited supplies which the native markets afforded them." [Illustration: WILD BULL OF EQUATORIAL AFRICA.] CHAPTER XVI. A DISAPPOINTMENT.--NOT TUCKEY'S FURTHEST.--BUILDING NEW CANOES.--THE _LIVINGSTONE_, _STANLEY_, AND _JASON_.--FALLS BELOW INKISI.--FRANK POCOCK DROWNED.--STANLEY'S GRIEF.--_IN MEMORIAM_.--MUTINY IN CAMP.--HOW IT WAS QUELLED.--LOSS OF THE _LIVINGSTONE_.--THE CHIEF CARPENTER DROWNED.--ISANGILA CATARACT.--TUCKEY'S SECOND SANGALLA.--ABANDONING THE BOATS.--OVERLAND TO BOMA.--THE EXPEDITION STARVING.--A LETTER ASKING HELP.--VOLUNTEER COURIERS.--DELAYS AT STARTING.--VAIN EFFORTS TO BUY FOOD.--A DREARY MARCH.--SUFFERINGS OF STANLEY'S PEOPLE.--THE LEADER'S ANXIETY. Fred took the chair the next day, and resumed the narrative at the point where it was dropped by his cousin. He turned several leaves of the book in slow succession, and said as he did so: "Mr. Stanley was destined to be greatly disappointed. In passing Inkisi Falls, he felt certain that he had at last reached Tuckey's Cataract, and henceforth would have an uninterrupted passage to the sea. But he soon found that there were other and larger cataracts to be passed, and as he had lost nine of his canoes he was in great need of an addition to his fleet. While the transport party and the natives were busy hauling the canoes around Inkisi Falls, taking them first to the table-land, twelve hundred feet high, and then down again, the carpenters were set to cutting down two of the largest trees and hollowing them out for boats. Two boats, the _Livingstone_ and the _Stanley_, were then made; the former, hewn from a single log of teak, was fifty-four feet long, two feet four inches deep, and three feet two inches wide. The _Stanley_ was not so large, but she proved an excellent boat, and was a credit to her builders. Afterwards a third boat was completed, to take the place of the _Jason_, which was lost at Kalulu Falls. "The country around Inkisi Falls was covered with fine timber. Mr. Stanley tells us that many of the trees were twelve feet and upwards in circumference, and their trunks were without branches for forty or fifty feet. The teak tree from which the _Livingstone_ was made was thirteen feet three inches in circumference, and when prostrate on the ground gave a branchless log fifty-five feet in length. [Illustration: THE NEW CANOES, THE "LIVINGSTONE" AND THE "STANLEY."] "The work of descending the various rapids and falls below Inkisi," said Fred, "was much like what had engaged the time and attention of the explorers since their departure from Stanley Pool. In some instances the boats were run through the rapids where it was thought they could be carried safely; in others they were lowered by means of cables, and at the worst falls they were dragged overland in the manner already described. In the passage of the Mowa Rapids the _Lady Alice_ struck the rocks, and was so severely injured that the repair of the boat took an entire day's labor by Mr. Stanley and Frank Pocock. Even then she took water badly, and with their limited materials it was found impossible to stop the leak properly. They were finally able to do so, with some beeswax which was brought to them by the natives. "The third of June was a melancholy day for Mr. Stanley, as it was marked by the drowning of Frank Pocock, his last remaining white companion. The circumstances were these: [Illustration: CUTTING OUT THE NEW "LIVINGSTONE" CANOE.] "Frank had been suffering from ulcers upon his feet and was unable to walk. Mr. Stanley had gone from the camp at Mowa to establish a new camp above the falls of Zinga, three miles lower down the Congo. Orders had been given for the boats to be lowered carefully down the rapids, while Frank was to be carried in a hammock. The hammock-bearers did not arrive as soon as expected, and as the _Jason_, under the command of the skilful Uledi, was starting to descend the rapids, Frank insisted upon being taken on board. In the rapids the boat was overturned in a whirlpool, and out of its eleven occupants three were drowned, among them "the little master," as Frank was called by the men of the expedition. His body was found by a fisherman, four or five days later, floating in the water below the rapids. Mr. Stanley gave the locality the name of Pocock Basin, in memory of the friend and companion whose loss he so deeply mourned that for some days he was hardly able to attend to the pressing duties of his position. [Illustration: FRANCIS JOHN POCOCK. Drowned June 3, 1877.] "Of his feelings on this sad occasion Mr. Stanley says: "As I looked at the empty tent and the dejected, woe-stricken servants, a choking sensation of unutterable grief filled me. The sorrow-laden mind fondly recalled the lost man's inestimable qualities, his extraordinary gentleness, his patient temper, his industry, cheerfulness, and his tender friendship; it dwelt upon the pleasure of his society, his general usefulness, his piety, and cheerful trust in our success, with which he had renewed our hope and courage; and each new virtue that it remembered only served to intensify my sorrow for his loss, and to suffuse my heart with pity and regret, that after the exhibition of so many admirable qualities and such long, faithful service, he should depart this life so abruptly, and without reward. "When curtained about by anxieties, and the gloom created by the almost insurmountable obstacles we encountered, his voice had ever made music in my soul. When grieving for the hapless lives that were lost, he consoled me. But now my friendly comforter and true-hearted friend was gone! Ah, had some one then but relieved me from my cares, and satisfied me that my dark followers would see their Zanjian homes again, I would that day have gladly ended the struggle, and, crying out, 'Who dies earliest dies best,' have embarked in my boat and dropped calmly over the cataracts into eternity." [Illustration: FALL OF THE EDWIN ARNOLD RIVER INTO THE POCOCK BASIN.] "A few days after the death of Frank Pocock," continued Fred, there was a mutinous outbreak in the camp, many of the men refusing to work. They said they would rather be slaves to the natives than stay where almost every day some of their number were drowned in the river. Thirty-one of the men packed up their property and left the camp. Mr. Stanley sent Kachéché, the detective, after them, and he also interested the chiefs of the tribes around Zinga to arrest the mutineers and bring them back to camp. [Illustration: THE CHIEF CARPENTER CARRIED OVER ZINGA FALL.] "Diplomacy and force combined secured the return of the rebellious men, and they were fully pardoned for their defection. Mr. Stanley pointed out to them the necessity of pushing forward, and on the morning after they came back everybody went at work with a will to pass the dreaded Zinga Fall. "Assisted by one hundred and fifty Zinga natives whom Mr. Stanley had hired, three of the boats were drawn up to the level of the rocky point above Zinga Fall on the morning of June 23d. The fourth boat was the _Livingstone_, whose construction has been described; it weighed about three tons, and when only a short distance above the shore the cable snapped and the boat slid back into the river. The chief carpenter of the expedition clung to it, and in the excitement of the moment he sprang into it just as it left the shore. Being unable to swim, he could not save himself, and was carried over the fall. Neither the carpenter nor the boat were ever seen again. It is supposed that the boat was jammed and caught among the rocks at the bottom of the river, where it was driven by the terrible force of the cataract. [Illustration: THE MASASSA FALLS, AND THE ENTRANCE INTO POCOCK BASIN, OR BOLOBOLO POOL.] "For another month and more the steadily diminishing band of explorers toiled among the rapids and cataracts of the Congo, and on the 30th of July drew their boats into a little cove about fifty yards above the Isangila cataract, the 'Second Sangalla' of Captain Tuckey. Here Mr. Stanley learned that Embomma, or Boma, was only five days away by land, and that there were three other cataracts, besides several rapids, before permanently smooth water could be reached. And here," said Fred, "I will turn to the book and read Mr. Stanley's account of how the explorers reached the sea." [Illustration: CAMP AT KILOLO, ABOVE ISANGILA FALLS.] "There was not the slightest doubt in my mind that the Isangila cataract was the second Sangalla of Captain Tuckey and Professor Smith, and that the Sanga Yellala of Tuckey and the Sanga Jelalla of Smith was the Nsongo Yellala, though I could not induce the natives to pronounce the words as the members of the unfortunate Congo Expedition of 1816 spelled them. "As the object of the journey had now been attained, and the great river of Livingstone had been connected with the Congo of Tuckey, I saw no reason to follow it farther, or to expend the little remaining vitality we possessed in toiling through the last four cataracts. "I announced, therefore, to the gallant but wearied Wangwana that we should abandon the river and strike overland for Embomma. The delight of the people manifested itself in loud and fervid exclamations of gratitude to Allah! Quadruple ration-money was also distributed to each man, woman, and child; but, owing to the excessive poverty of the country, and the keen trading instincts and avaricious spirit of the aborigines, little benefit did the long-enduring, famine-stricken Wangwana derive from my liberality. "Fancy knick-knacks, iron spears, knives, axes, copper, brass wire, were then distributed to them, and I emptied the medicine out of thirty vials, and my private clothes-bags, blankets, waterproofs, every available article of property that might be dispensed with, were also given away, without distinction of rank or merit, to invest in whatever eatables they could procure. The 31st of July was consequently a busy day, devoted to bartering, but few Wangwana were able to boast at evening that they had obtained a tithe of the value of the articles they had sold, and the character of the food actually purchased was altogether unfit for people in such poor condition of body. "At sunset we lifted the brave boat, after her adventurous journey across Africa, and carried her to the summit of some rocks about five hundred yards north of the fall, to be abandoned to her fate. Three years before, Messenger of Teddington had commenced her construction; two years previous to this date she was coasting the bluffs of Uzongora on Lake Victoria; twelve months later she was completing her last twenty miles of the circumnavigation of Lake Tanganika, and on the 31st of July, 1877, after a journey of nearly seven thousand miles up and down broad Africa, she was consigned to her resting-place above the Isangili cataract, to bleach and to rot to dust! * * * * * "A wayworn, feeble, and suffering column were we when, on the 1st of August, we filed across the rocky terrace of Isangila and sloping plain, and strode up the ascent to the table-land. Nearly forty men filled the sick-list with dysentery, ulcers, and scurvy, and the victims of the latter disease were steadily increasing. Yet withal I smiled proudly when I saw the brave hearts cheerily respond to my encouraging cries. A few, however, would not believe that within five or six days they should see Europeans. They disdained to be considered so credulous, but at the same time they granted that the 'master' was quite right to encourage his people with promises of speedy relief. [Illustration: VIEW FROM THE TABLE-LAND.] "So we surmounted the table-land, but we could not bribe the wretched natives to guide us to the next village. 'Mirambo,' the riding-ass, managed to reach half-way up the table-land, but he also was too far exhausted through the miserable attenuation which the poor grass of the western region had wrought in his frame to struggle farther. We could only pat him on the neck and say, 'Good-bye, old boy; farewell, old hero! A bad world this for you and for us. We must part at last.' The poor animal appeared to know that we were leaving him, for he neighed after us--a sickly, quavering neigh, that betrayed his excessive weakness. When we last turned to look at him he was lying on the path, but looking up the hill with pointed ears, as though he were wondering why he was left alone, and whither his human friends and companions by flood and field were wandering. "After charging the chief of Mbinda to feed him with cassava leaves and good grass from his fields, I led the caravan over the serried levels of the lofty upland. "At the end of this district, about a mile from Mwato Wandu, we appeared before a village whose inhabitants permitted us to pass on for a little distance, when they suddenly called out to us with expostulatory tones at an almost shrieking pitch. The old chief, followed by about fifty men, about forty of whom carried guns, hurried up to me and sat down in the road. "In a composed and consequential tone he asked, 'Know you I am the king of this country?' "I answered, mildly, 'I knew it not, my brother.' "'I am the king, and how can you pass through my country without paying me?' "'Speak, my friend; what is it the Mundelé can give you?' "'Rum. I want a big bottle of rum, and then you can pass on.' "'Rum?' "'Yes, rum, for I am the king of this country!' "'Rum!' I replied, wonderingly. "'Rum; rum is good. I love rum,' he said, with a villainous leer. "Uledi, coming forward, impetuously asked, 'What does this old man want, master?' "'He wants rum, Uledi. Think of it!' [Illustration: "I WANT RUM."] "'There's rum for him,' he said, irreverently slapping his majesty over the face, who, as the stool was not very firm, fell over prostrate. Naturally this was an affront, and I reproved Uledi for it. Yet it seemed that he had extricated us from a difficult position by his audacity, for the old chief and his people hurried off to their village, where there was great excitement and perturbation, but we could not stay to see the end. "Ever and anon, as we rose above the ridged swells, we caught a glimpse of the wild river on whose bosom we had so long floated. Still white and foaming, it rushed on impetuously seaward through the sombre defile. Then we descended into a deep ravine, and presently, with uneasy, throbbing hearts, we breasted a steep slope rough with rock, and from its summit we looked abroad over a heaving, desolate, and ungrateful land. The grass was tall and ripe, and waved and rustled mournfully before the upland breezes. Soon the road declined into a valley, and we were hid in a deep fold, round which rose the upland, here to the west shagged with a thin forest, to the north with ghastly sere grass, out of which rose a few rocks, gray and sad. On our left was furze, with scrub. At the bottom of this, sad and desolate, ran a bright, crystal clear brook. Up again to the summit we strove to gain the crest of a ridge, and then, down once more the tedious road wound in crooked curves to the depth of another ravine, on the opposite side of which rose sharply and steeply, to the wearying height of twelve hundred feet, the range called Yangi-Yangi. At 11 A.M. we in the van had gained the lofty summit, and fifteen minutes afterwards we descried a settlement and its cluster of palms. An hour afterwards we were camped on a bit of level plateau to the south of the villages of Ndambi Mbongo. "The chiefs appeared, dressed in scarlet military coats of a past epoch. We asked for food for beads. 'Cannot.' 'For wire?' 'We don't want wire!' 'For cowries?' 'Are we bushmen?' 'For cloth?' 'You must wait three days for a market'. If you have got rum you can have plenty!!' Rum! Heavens! Over two years and eight months ago we departed from the shores of the Eastern Ocean, and they ask us for rum! "Yet they were not insolent, but unfeeling; they were not rude, but steely selfish. We conversed with them sociably enough, and obtained encouragement. A strong, healthy man would reach Embomma in three days. Three days! Only three days off from food--from comforts--luxuries even! Ah me! "The next day, when morning was graying, we lifted our weakened limbs for another march. And such a march!--the path all thickly strewn with splinters of suet-colored quartz, which increased the fatigue and pain. The old men and the three mothers, with their young infants born at the cataracts of Masassa and Zinga, and another near the market-town of Manyanga, in the month of June, suffered greatly. Then might be seen that affection for one another which appealed to my sympathies, and endeared them to me still more. Two of the younger men assisted each of the old, and the husbands and fathers lifted their infants on their shoulders and tenderly led their wives along. [Illustration: VILLAGE SCENE, WITH GRANARY IN FOREGROUND.] "Up and down the desolate and sad land wound the poor, hungry caravan. Bleached whiteness of ripest grass, gray rock-piles here and there, looming up solemn and sad in their grayness, a thin grove of trees now and then visible on the heights and in the hollows--such were the scenes that with every uplift of a ridge or rising crest of a hill met our hungry eyes. Eight miles our strength enabled us to make, and then we camped in the middle of an uninhabited valley, where we were supplied with water from the pools which we discovered in the course of a dried-up stream. "Our march on the third day was a continuation of the scenes of the day preceding until about ten o'clock, when we arrived at the summit of a grassy and scrub-covered ridge, which we followed until three in the afternoon. The van then appeared before the miserable settlement of Nsanda, or, as it is sometimes called, Banza (town) N'sanda N'sanga. Marching through the one street of the first village in melancholy and silent procession, voiceless as sphinxes, we felt our way down into a deep gully, and crawled up again to the level of the village site, and camped about two hundred yards away. It was night before all had arrived. [Illustration: IN THE VALLEY.] "After we had erected our huts and lifted the tent into its usual place, the chief of Nsanda appeared. He was kindly, sociable--laughed, giggled, and was amusing. Of course he knew Embomma, had frequently visited there, and carried thither large quantities of _Nguba_, ground-nuts, which he had sold for rum. We listened, as in duty bound, with a melancholy interest. Then I suddenly asked him if he would carry a _makanda_, or letter, to Embomma, and allow three of my men to accompany him. He was too great to proceed himself, but he would despatch two of his young men the next day. His consent I obtained only after four hours of earnest entreaty. It was finally decided that I should write a letter, and the two young natives would be ready next day. After my dinner--three fried bananas, twenty roasted ground-nuts, and a cup of muddy water, my usual fare now--by a lamp made out of a piece of rotten sheeting steeped in a little palm-butter I wrote the following letter: "'VILLAGE OF NSANDA, _August_ 4, 1877. "'_To any Gentleman who speaks English at Embomma:_ "DEAR SIR,--I have arrived at this place from Zanzibar with one hundred and fifteen souls, men, women, and children. We are now in a state of imminent starvation. We can buy nothing from the natives, for they laugh at our kinds of cloth, beads, and wire. There are no provisions in the country that may be purchased, except on market-days, and starving people cannot afford to wait for these markets. I, therefore, have made bold to despatch three of my young men, natives of Zanzibar, with a boy named Robert Feruzi, of the English Mission at Zanzibar, with this letter, craving relief from you. I do not know you; but I am told there is an Englishman at Embomma, and as you are a Christian and a gentleman, I beg you not to disregard my request. The boy Robert will be better able to describe our lone condition than I can tell you in this letter. We are in a state of the greatest distress; but if your supplies arrive in time, I may be able to reach Embomma within four days. I want three hundred cloths, each four yards long, of such quality as you trade with, which is very different from that we have; but better than all would be ten or fifteen man-loads of rice or grain to fill their pinched bellies immediately, as even with the cloths it would require time to purchase food, and starving people cannot wait. The supplies must arrive within two days, or I may have a fearful time of it among the dying. Of course I hold myself responsible for any expense you may incur in this business. What is wanted is immediate relief; and I pray you to use your utmost energies to forward it at once. For myself, if you have such little luxuries as tea, coffee, sugar, and biscuits by you, such as one man can easily carry, I beg you on my own behalf that you will send a small supply, and add to the great debt of gratitude due to you upon the timely arrival of the supplies for my people. Until that time I beg you to believe me, "'Yours sincerely, "'H. M. STANLEY, "'_Commanding Anglo-American Expedition_ _for Exploration of Africa._ "'_P.S._--You may not know me by name; I therefore add, I am the person that discovered Livingstone in 1871.--H. M. S.' "I also wrote a letter in French, and another in Spanish as a substitute for Portuguese, as I heard at Nsanda that there was one Englishman, one Frenchman, and three Portuguese at Embomma; but there were conflicting statements, some saying that there was no Englishman, but a Dutchman. However, I imagined I was sure to obtain provisions--for most European merchants understand either English, French, or Spanish. [Illustration: ANT-HILLS ON THE ROAD TO BOMA.] "The chiefs and boat's crew were called to my tent. I then told them that I had resolved to despatch four messengers to the white men at Embomma, with letters asking for food, and wished to know the names of those most likely to travel quickly and through anything that interposed to prevent them; for it might be possible that so small a number of men might be subjected to delays and interruptions, and that the guides might loiter on the way, and so protract the journey until relief would arrive too late. "The response was not long coming, for Uledi sprang up and said, 'Oh, master, don't talk more; I am ready now. See, I will only buckle on my belt, and I shall start at once, and nothing will stop me. I will follow on the track like a leopard.' "'And I am one,' said Kachéché. 'Leave us alone, master. If there are white men at Embomma, we will find them out. We will walk, and walk, and when we cannot walk we will crawl.' "'Leave off talking, men,' said Muini Pembé, 'and allow others to speak, won't you? Hear me, my master. I am your servant. I will outwalk the two. I will carry the letter, and plant it before the eyes of the white men.' [Illustration: ONE OF THE GUIDES.] "'I will go, too, sir,' said Robert. "'Good. It is just as I should wish it; but, Robert, you cannot follow these three men. You will break down, my boy.' "'Oh, we will carry him if he breaks down,' said Uledi. 'Won't we Kachéché?' "'Inshallah!' responded Kachéché, decisively. 'We must have Robert along with us, otherwise the white men won't understand us.' "Early the next day the two guides appeared, but the whole of the morning was wasted in endeavoring to induce them to set off. Uledi waxed impatient, and buckled on his accoutrements, drawing his belt so tight about his waist that it was perfectly painful to watch him, and said, 'Give us the letters, master; we will not wait for the pagans. Our people will be dead before we start. Regard them, will you! They are sprawling about the camp without any life in them. Goee--Go-ee--Go-ee.' Finally, at noon, the guides and messengers departed in company. "Meanwhile a bale of cloth and a sack of beads were distributed, and the strongest and youngest men despatched abroad in all directions to forage for food. Late in the afternoon they arrived in camp weakened and dispirited, having, despite all efforts, obtained but a few bundles of the miserable ground-nuts and sufficient sweet potatoes to give three small ones to each person, though they had given twenty times their value for each one. The heartless reply of the spoiled aborigines was, 'Wait for the zandu,' or market, which was to be held in two days at Nsanda; for, as among the Babwendé, each district has its respective days for marketing. Still what we had obtained was a respite from death; and, on the morning of the 5th, the people were prepared to drag their weary limbs nearer to the expected relief." [Illustration: CATCHING ANTS FOR FOOD.] CHAPTER XVII. THE WEARY MARCH RESUMED.--RETURN OF THE MESSENGERS.--ARRIVAL OF RELIEF.--SCENE IN CAMP.--DISTRIBUTION OF PROVISIONS.--THE SONG OF JOY.--A WELCOME LETTER.--"ENOUGH NOW; FALL TO."--PERSONAL LUXURIES FOR THE LEADER.--"PALE ALE! SHERRY! PORT WINE! CHAMPAGNE! TEA! COFFEE! WHITE SUGAR! WHEATEN BREAD!"--STANLEY'S REPLY TO THE GENEROUS STRANGERS.--SUMMARY PUNISHMENT FOR THEFT.--GREETING CIVILIZATION.--RECEPTION BY WHITE MEN.--THE FREEDOM OF BOMA.--LIFTED INTO THE HAMMOCK.--CHARACTERISTICS OF BOMA.--A BANQUET AND FAREWELL.--PONTA DA LENHA.--OUT ON THE OCEAN.--ADIEU TO THE CONGO. After a pause of a few minutes, Fred continued the story of the weary march of the next day, and the formation of the camp near Mbinda, close to a cemetery where the graves were decorated with the property of their occupants. Many pitchers, bowls, mugs, and other articles of European manufacture were displayed there, and indicated the free intercourse of the natives with the merchants of Embomma. [Illustration: MBINDA CEMETERY.] "The natives," said Fred, "continued indifferent to the sufferings of the starving travellers, and persistently refused to sell any food. Early on the morning of the 6th of August the party moved out, and after toiling painfully over the flinty path went into camp near Banza Mbuko about 9 A.M. In despair the people flung themselves on the ground, and some of them appeared ready to welcome death as a relief from their misery. And now," continued the youth, "let us turn again to Mr. Stanley's narrative: "Suddenly the shrill voice of a little boy was heard saying, 'Oh! I see Uledi and Kachéché coming down the hill, and there are plenty of men following them!' "'What! what! what!' broke out eagerly from several voices, and dark forms were seen springing up from among the bleached grass, and from under the shade, and many eyes were directed at the whitened hill-slope. "'Yes; it is true! it is true! La il Allah, il Allah! Yes; el hamd ul Illah! Yes, it is food! food! food at last! Ah, that Uledi! he is a lion, truly! We are saved, thank God!' [Illustration: IN THE SUBURBS OF BOMA.] "Before many minutes, Uledi and Kachéché were seen tearing through the grass, and approaching us with long springing strides, holding a letter up to announce to us that they had been successful. And the gallant fellows, hurrying up, soon placed it in my hands, and in the hearing of all who were gathered to hear the news I translated the following letter: "'EMBOMMA, "'ENGLISH FACTORY. "'6.30 A.M., "'BOMA, _6th August_, 1877. "'H. M. STANLEY, Esq.: "DEAR SIR,--Your welcome letter came to hand yesterday, at 7 P.M. As soon as its contents were understood, we immediately arranged to despatch to you such articles as you requested, as much as our stock on hand would permit, and other things that we deemed would be suitable in that locality. You will see that we send fifty pieces of cloth, each twenty-four yards long, and some sacks containing sundries for yourself; several sacks of rice, sweet potatoes, also a few bundles of fish, a bundle of tobacco, and one demijohn of rum. The carriers are all paid, so that you need not trouble yourself about them. That is all we need say about business. We are exceedingly sorry to hear that you have arrived in such piteous condition, but we send our warmest congratulations to you, and hope that you will soon arrive in Boma (this place is called Boma by us, though on the map it is Embomma). Again hoping that you will soon arrive, and that you are not suffering in health. "'Believe us to remain, your sincere friends, "'_(Signed)_ "'HATTON & COOKSON. "'A. DA MOTTA VEIGA. "'J. W. HARRISON.' [Illustration: OUTBUILDINGS OF AN AFRICAN FACTORY.] "Uledi and Kachéché then delivered their budget. Their guides had accompanied them half-way, when they became frightened by the menaces of some of the natives of Mbinda, and deserted them. The four Wangwana, however, undertook the journey alone, and, following a road for several hours, they appeared at Bibbi after dark. The next day (the 5th), being told by the natives that Boma (to which Embomma was now changed) was lower down river, and unable to obtain guides, the brave fellows resolved upon following the Congo along its banks. About an hour after sunset, after a fatiguing march over many hills, they reached Boma, and, asking a native for the house of the 'Ingreza' (English), were shown to the factory of Messrs. Hatton & Cookson, which was superintended by a Portuguese gentleman, Mr. A. da Motta Veiga, and Mr. John W. Harrison, of Liverpool. Kachéché, who was a better narrator than Uledi, then related that a short white man, wearing spectacles, opened the letter, and, after reading awhile, asked which was Robert Feruzi, who answered for himself in English, and, in answer to many questions, gave a summary of our travels and adventures, but not before the cooks were set to prepare an abundance of food, which they sadly needed, after a fast of over thirty hours. [Illustration: ESCORT OF THE CARAVAN.] "By this time the procession of carriers from Messrs. Hatton & Cookson's factory had approached, and all eyes were directed at the pompous old 'capitan' and the relief caravan behind him. Several of the Wangwana officiously stepped forward to relieve the fatigued and perspiring men, and with an extraordinary vigor tossed the provisions--rice, fish, and tobacco bundles--on the ground, except the demijohn of rum, which they called pombé, and handled most carefully. The 'capitan' was anxious about my private stores, but the scene transpiring about the provisions was so absorbingly interesting that I could pay no attention as yet to them. While the captains of the messes were ripping open the sacks and distributing the provisions in equal quantities, Murabo, the boat-boy, struck up a glorious, loud-swelling chant of triumph and success, into which he deftly, and with a poet's license, interpolated verses laudatory of the white men of the second sea. The bard, extemporizing, sang much about the great cataracts, cannibals, and pagans, hunger, the wide wastes, great inland seas, and niggardly tribes, and wound up by declaring that the journey was over, that we were even then smelling the breezes of the western ocean, and his master's brothers had redeemed them from the 'hell of hunger.' And at the end of each verse the voices rose high and clear to the chorus-- "'Then sing, O friends, sing; the journey is ended; Sing aloud, O friends, sing to this great sea.' "'Enough now; fall to,' said Manwa Sera, at which the people nearly smothered him by their numbers. Into each apron, bowl, and utensil held out, the several captains expeditiously tossed full measures of rice and generous quantities of sweet potatoes and portions of fish. The younger men and women hobbled after water, and others set about gathering fuel, and the camp was all animation, where but half an hour previously all had been listless despair. Many people were unable to wait for the food to be cooked, but ate the rice and the fish raw. But when the provisions had all been distributed, and the noggin of rum had been equitably poured into each man's cup, and the camp was in a state of genial excitement, and groups of dark figures discussed with animation the prospective food which the hospitable fires were fast preparing, then I turned to my tent, accompanied by Uledi, Kachéché, the capitan, and the tent-boys, who were, I suppose, eager to witness my transports of delight. "With profound tenderness Kachéché handed to me the mysterious bottles, watching my face the while with his sharp detective eyes as I glanced at the labels, by which the cunning rogue read my pleasure. Pale ale! Sherry! Port wine! Champagne! Several loaves of bread, wheaten bread, sufficient for a week! Two pots of butter! A packet of tea! Coffee! White loaf-sugar! Sardines and salmon! Plum-pudding! Currant, gooseberry, and raspberry jam! "The gracious God be praised forever! The long war we had maintained against famine and the siege of woe were over, and my people and I rejoiced in plenty! Only an hour before this we had been living on the recollections of the few peanuts and green bananas we had consumed in the morning, but now, in an instant, we were transported into the presence of the luxuries of civilization. Never did gaunt Africa appear so unworthy and so despicable before my eyes as now, when imperial Europe rose before me and showed her boundless treasures of life, and blessed me with her stores. "When we all felt refreshed, the cloth bales were opened, and soon, instead of the venerable and tattered relics of Manchester, Salem, and Nashua manufacture, which were hastily consumed by the fire, the people were reclad with white cloths and gay prints. The nakedness of want, the bare ribs, the sharp, protruding bones were thus covered; but months must elapse before the hollow, sunken cheeks and haggard faces would again resume the healthy bronze color which distinguishes the well-fed African. [Illustration: OUTSIDE THE VILLAGE.] "My condition of mind in the evening of the eventful day which was signalized by the happy union which we had made with the merchants of the west coast, may be guessed by the following letter: "'BANZA MBUKO, _August_ 6, 1877. "'MESSRS. A. DA MOTTA VEIGA AND J. W. HARRISON, EMBOMMA, CONGO RIVER: "'GENTLEMEN,--I have received your very welcome letter, but better than all, and more welcome, your supplies. I am unable to express just at present how grateful I feel. We are all so overjoyed and confused with our emotions, at the sight of the stores exposed to our hungry eyes--at the sight of the rice, the fish, and the rum, and for me--wheaten bread, butter, sardines, jam, peaches, grapes, beer (ye gods! just think of it--three bottles pale ale!) besides tea and sugar--that we cannot restrain ourselves from falling to and enjoying this sudden bounteous store--and I beg you will charge our apparent want of thankfulness to our greediness. If we do not thank you sufficiently in words, rest assured we feel what volumes could not describe. "'For the next twenty-four hours we shall be too busy eating to think of anything else much; but I may say that the people cry out joyfully, while their mouths are full of rice and fish, "Verily, our master has found the sea, and his brothers, but we did not believe him until he showed us the rice and the pombé (rum). We did not believe there was any end to the great river; but, God be praised forever, we shall see white people to-morrow, and our wars and troubles will be over." "'Dear Sirs, though strangers, I feel we shall be great friends, and it will be the study of my lifetime to remember my feelings of gratefulness when I first caught sight of your supplies, and my poor, faithful, and brave people cried out, "Master, we are saved!--food is coming!" The old and the young--the men, the women, the children--lifted their wearied and worn-out frames, and began to chant lustily an extemporaneous song, in honor of the white people by the great salt sea (the Atlantic) who had listened to their prayers. I had to rush to my tent to hide the tears that would issue, despite all my attempts at composure. "'Gentlemen, that the blessing of God may attend your footsteps whithersoever you go, is the very earnest prayer of "'Yours faithfully, HENRY M. STANLEY, "'_Commanding Anglo-American Expedition_.' "At the same hour on the morning of the 7th that we resumed the march, Kachéché and Uledi were despatched to Boma with the above letter. Then surmounting a ridge, we beheld a grassy country barred with seams of red clay in gullies, ravines, and slopes, the effects of rain, dipping into basins with frequently broad masses of plateau and great dykelike ridges between, and in the distance southwest of us a lofty, tree-clad hill-range, which we were told we should have to climb before descending to N'lamba N'lamba, where we proposed camping. [Illustration: VIEW IN THE OPEN COUNTRY.] "Half an hour's march brought us to a market-place, where a tragedy had been enacted a short time before the relief caravan had passed it the day previous. Two thieves had robbed a woman of salt, and, according to the local custom which ordains the severest penalties for theft in the public mart, the two felons had been immediately executed, and their bodies laid close to the path to deter others evilly disposed from committing like crimes. "At noon we surmounted the lofty range which we had viewed near Banza Mbuko, and the aneroid indicated a height of fifteen hundred feet. A short distance from its base, on two grassy hills, is situate N'lamba N'lamba, a settlement comprising several villages, and as populous as Mbinda. The houses and streets were very clean and neat; but, as of old, the natives are devoted to idolatry, and their passion for carving wooden idols was illustrated in every street we passed through. "On the 8th we made a short march of five miles to N'safu, over a sterile, bare, and hilly country, but the highest ridge passed was not over eleven hundred feet above the sea. Uledi and Kachéché returned at this place with more cheer for us, and a note acknowledging my letter of thanks. "In a postscript to this note, Mr. Motta Veiga prepared me for a reception which was to meet me on the road half-way between N'safu and Boma; it also contained the census of the European population, as follows: "'Perhaps you do not know that in Boma there are only eleven Portuguese, one Frenchman, one Dutchman, one gentleman from St. Helena, and ourselves (Messrs. Motta Veiga and J. W. Harrison), Messrs. Hatton and Cookson being in Liverpool, and the two signatures above being names of those in charge of the English factory there.' "On the 9th of August, 1877, 999th day from the date of our departure from Zanzibar, we prepared to greet the van of civilization. "From the bare rocky ridges of N'safu there is a perceptible decline to the Congo valley, and the country becomes, in appearance, more sterile--a sparse population dwelling in a mere skeleton village in the centre of bleakness. Shingly rocks strewed the path and the waste, and thin, sere grass waved mournfully on level and spine, on slope of ridge and crest of hill; in the hollows it was somewhat thicker; in the bottoms it had a slight tinge of green. "We had gradually descended some five hundred feet along declining spurs when we saw a scattered string of hammocks appearing, and gleams of startling whiteness, such as were given by fine linen and twills. "A buzz of wonder ran along our column. "Proceeding a little farther, we stopped, and in a short time I was face to face with four white--ay, truly white men! "As I looked into their faces, I blushed to find that I was wondering at their paleness. Poor pagan Africans--Rwoma of Uzinja, and man-eating tribes of the Livingstone! The whole secret of their wonder and curiosity flashed upon me at once. What arrested the twanging bow and the deadly trigger of the cannibals? What but the weird pallor of myself and Frank! In the same manner the sight of the pale faces of the Embomma merchants gave me the slightest suspicion of an involuntary shiver. The pale color, after so long gazing on rich black and richer bronze, had something of an unaccountable ghastliness. I could not divest myself of the feeling that they must be sick; yet, as I compare their complexions to what I now view, I should say they were olive, sunburned, dark. [Illustration: WOODEN IDOL.] "Yet there was something very self-possessed about the carriage of these white men. It was grand; a little self-pride mixed with cordiality. I could not remember just then that I had witnessed such bearing among any tribe throughout Africa. They spoke well also; the words they uttered hit the sense pat; without gesture, they were perfectly intelligible. How strange! It was quite delightful to observe the slight nods of the head; the intelligent facial movements were admirably expressive. They were completely clothed, and neat also; I ought to say immaculately clean. Jaunty straw hats, colored neckties, patent-leather boots, well-cut white clothes, virtuously clean! I looked from them to my people, and then I fear I felt almost like being grateful to the Creator that I was not as black as they, and that these finely dressed, well-spoken whites claimed me as friend and kin. Yet I did not dare to place myself upon an equality with them as yet; the calm blue and gray eyes rather awed me, and the immaculate purity of their clothes dazzled me. I was content to suppose myself a kind of connecting link between the white and the African for the time being. Possibly familiarity would beget greater confidence. [Illustration: THE WHITE-FRONTED WILD HOG OF CENTRAL AFRICA.] "They expressed themselves delighted to see me; congratulated me with great warmth of feeling, and offered to me the 'Freedom of Boma!' We travelled together along the path for a mile, and came to the frontier village of Boma, or Embomma, where the 'king' was at hand to do the honors. My courteous friends had brought a hamper containing luxuries. Hock and champagne appeared to be cheap enough where but a few hours previous a cup of palm-wine was as precious as nectar; rare dainties of Paris and London abundant, though a short time ago we were stinted of even ground-nuts. Nor were the Wangwana forgotten, for plenty had also been prepared for them. [Illustration: THE HAMMOCK ON THE WEST COAST OF AFRICA.] "My friends who thus welcomed me among the descendants of Japhet were Mr. A. da Motta Veiga, Senhores Luiz Pinto Maroo, João Chaves, Henrique Germano Faro, and Mr. J. F. Müller, of the Dutch factory. They had brought a hammock with them, and eight sturdy, well-fed bearers. They insisted on my permitting them to lift me into the hammock. I declined. They said it was a Portuguese custom. To custom, therefore, I yielded, though it appeared very effeminate. [Illustration: THE CIRCUMNAVIGATORS OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA AND LAKE TANGANIKA, AND EXPLORERS OF THE ALEXANDRA NILE AND LIVINGSTONE (CONGO) RIVER.] "It was a gradual slope through a valley, which soon opened into a low alluvial plain, seamed here and there with narrow gullies, and then over the heads of the tall grass as I lay in the hammock I caught a glimpse of the tall square box of a frame-house, with a steep roof, erected on rising ground. It brought back a host of old recollections; for everywhere on the frontiers of civilization in America one may see the like. It approached nearer and larger to the view, and presently the hammock was halted by whitewashed palings, above which the square two-storied box rose on piles with a strangeness that was almost weird. It was the residence of those in charge of the English factory. [Illustration: NATIVE BELLES ON THE WEST COAST.] "Looking from the house, my eyes rested on the river. Ah! the hateful, murderous river, now so broad and proud and majestically calm, as though it had not bereft me of a friend, and of many faithful souls, and as though we had never heard it rage and whiten with fury, and mock the thunder. What a hypocritical river! But just below the landing a steamer was ascending--the _Kabinda_, John Petherbridge, master. How civilization was advancing on me! Not a moment even to lie down and rest! Full-blooded, eager, restless, and aggressive, it pressed on me, and claimed me for its own, without allowing me even the time to cast one retrospective glance at the horrors left behind. While still overwhelmed by the thought, the people of the expedition appeared, pressing forward to admire and gaze wide-eyed at the strange 'big iron canoe,' driven by fire on _their_ river; for there were several Wanyamwezi, Waganda, and east-coast men who would not believe that there was anything more wonderful than the _Lady Alice_. "Our life at Boma, which lasted only from 11 A.M. of the 9th to noon of the 11th, passed too quickly away; but throughout it was intensest pleasure and gayety. [Illustration: NATIVE BLACKSMITHS NEAR BOMA.] "There are some half-dozen factories at Boma, engaging the attention of about eighteen whites. The houses are all constructed of wooden boards, with, as a rule, corrugated zinc roofs. The residences line the river front; the Dutch, French, and Portuguese factories being west of an isolated high square-browed hill, which, by-the-bye, is a capital site for a fortlet; and the English factory being a few hundred yards above it. Each factory requires an ample courtyard for its business, which consists in the barter of cotton fabrics, glass-ware, crockery, iron-ware, gin, rum, guns and gunpowder, for palm-oil, ground-nuts, and ivory. The merchants contrive to exist as comfortably as their means will allow. Some of them plant fruits and garden vegetables, and cultivate grape-vines. Pineapples, guavas, and limes may be obtained from the market, which is held on alternate days a short distance behind the European settlement. "Though Boma is comparatively ancient, and Europeans have had commercial connections with this district and the people for over a century, yet Captain Tuckey's description of the people, written in 1816--their ceremonies and modes of life, their suspicion of strangers and intolerance, their greed for rum and indolence, the scarcity of food--is as correct as though written to-day. The name 'Boma,' however, has usurped that of 'Lombee,' which Captain Tuckey knew; the _banza_ of Embomma being a little distance inland. In his day it was a village of about one hundred huts, in which was held the market of the _banza_, or king's town. "The view inland is dreary, bleak, and unpromising, consisting of grassy hills, and of a broken country, its only boast the sturdy baobab, which relieves the nakedness of the land. But, fresh from the hungry wilderness and the land of selfish men, from the storm and stress of the cataracts, the solemn rock defiles of the Livingstone, and the bleak table-land--I heeded it not. The glowing, warm life of Western civilization, the hospitable civilities and gracious kindnesses which the merchants of Boma showered on myself and people, were as dews of Paradise, grateful, soothing, and refreshing. "On the 11th, at noon, after a last little banquet and songs, hearty cheers, innumerable toasts, and fervid claspings of friendly hands, we embarked. An hour before sunset the 'big iron canoe,' after a descent of about thirty-five miles, hauled in-shore, on the right bank, and made fast to the pier of another of Hatton & Cookson's factories at Ponta da Lenha, or Wooded Point. Two or three other Portuguese factories are in close neighborhood to it, lightening the gloom of the background of black mangrove and forest. "After a very agreeable night with our hospitable English host, the _Kabinda_ was again under way. "The puissant river below Boma reminded me of the scenes above Uyanzi; the color of the water, the numerous islands, and the enormous breadth recalled those days when we had sought the liquid wildernesses of the Livingstone, to avoid incessant conflicts with the human beasts of prey in the midst of primitive Africa, and at the sight my eyes filled with tears at the thought that I could not recall my lost friends, and bid them share the rapturous joy that now filled the hearts of all those who had endured and survived. "A few hours later and we were gliding through the broad portal into the ocean, the blue domain of civilization! "Turning to take a farewell glance at the mighty river on whose brown bosom we had endured so greatly, I saw it approach, awed and humbled, the threshold of the watery immensity, to whose immeasurable volume and illimitable expanse, awful as had been its power, and terrible as had been its fury, its flood was but a drop. And I felt my heart suffused with purest gratitude to Him whose hand had protected us, and who had enabled us to pierce the Dark Continent from east to west, and to trace its mightiest river to its ocean bourne." CHAPTER XVIII. ARRIVAL AT KABINDA.--WEST AFRICAN MERCHANTS.--DEATH AMONG THE WANGWANA.--ILLNESS AMONG THE PEOPLE OF THE EXPEDITION.--STANLEY'S ANXIETY FOR HIS FOLLOWERS.--THEIR FAILING HEALTH.--ENCOURAGING THEM WITH WORDS AND KIND TREATMENT.--THE BANE OF IDLENESS.--LEAVING KABINDA.--SAN PAULO DE LOANDA.--KINDNESS OF THE PORTUGUESE OFFICIALS.--H. B. MAJESTY'S SHIP _INDUSTRY_.--CARRIED TO THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE.--THE WANGWANA SEE A "FIRE-CARRIAGE."--TO NATAL AND ZANZIBAR.--RECEPTION.--DISBANDING THE EXPEDITION.--AFFECTING SCENES.--STANLEY'S TRIBUTE TO HIS FOLLOWERS. [Illustration: AT REST: STANLEY'S QUARTERS AT KABINDA BY THE SEA.] "After steaming northward from the mouth of the Congo for a few hours, we entered the fine bay of Kabinda, on the southern shores of which the native town of that name in the country of Ngoyo is situate. On the southern point of the bay stands a third factory of the enterprising firm of Messrs. Hatton & Cookson, under the immediate charge of their principal agent, Mr. John Phillips. A glance at the annexed photograph will sufficiently show the prosperous appearance of the establishment, and the comfortable houses that have been constructed. The expedition received a cordial welcome from Messrs. Phillips, Wills, Price, and Jones, and I was housed in a cottage surrounded by gardens and overlooking the glorious sea, while the people were located in a large shed fronting the bay. [Illustration: EXPEDITION AT KABINDA. (_From a Photograph by Mr. Phillips._)] "The next morning when I proceeded to greet the people, I discovered that one of the Wangwana had died at sunrise; and when I examined the condition of the other sufferers it became apparent that there was to be yet no rest for me, and that, to save life, I should have to be assiduous and watchful. But for this, I should have surrendered myself to the joys of life, without a thought for myself or for others, and no doubt I should have suffered in the same degree as the Wangwana from the effects of the sudden relaxation from care, trouble, or necessity for further effort. There were also other claims on my energies: I had to write my despatches to the journals, and to re-establish those bonds of friendship and sympathetic communion that had been severed by the lapse of dark years and long months of silence. My poor people, however, had no such incentives to rouse themselves from the stupor of indifference, as fatal to them as the cold to a benighted man in a snowy wilderness. Housed together in a comfortable, barrack-like building, with every convenience provided for them, and supplied with food, raiment, fuel, water, and an excess of luxuries, nothing remained for them to do; and the consequence was, that the abrupt dead-stop to all action and movement overwhelmed them, and plunged them into a state of torpid brooding from which it was difficult to arouse them. "The words of the poet-- "'What's won is done: Joy's soul lies in the doing--' "or, as Longfellow has it-- "'The reward is in the doing, And the rapture of pursuing Is the prize'-- "recurred to me, as explaining why it was that the people abandoned themselves to the dangerous melancholy created by inactivity. I was charmed by it myself; the senses were fast relapsing into a drowsy state, that appeared to be akin to the drowsiness of delirium. No novel or romance interested me, though Mr. Phillips's cottage possessed a complete library of fiction and light reading. Dickens seemed rubbish, and the finest poems flat. Frequently, even at meals, I found myself subsiding into sleep, though I struggled against it heroically; wine had no charm for me; conversation fatigued me. Yet the love of society, and what was due to my friendly hosts, acted as a wholesome restraint and a healthy stimulant; but what had the poor, untutored black strangers, whose homes were on the east side of the continent, to rouse them and to stimulate them into life? [Illustration: GROUP OF MR. STANLEY'S FOLLOWERS AT KABINA, WEST COAST OF AFRICA, JUST AFTER CROSSING THE "DARK CONTINENT." (_From a Photograph by Mr. Phillips, of Kabinda._)] "'Do you wish to see Zanzibar, boys?' I asked. "'Ah, it is far. Nay, speak not, master. We shall never see it,' they replied. "'But you will die if you go on in this way. Wake up--shake yourselves--show yourselves to be men.' "'Can a man contend with God? Who fears death? Let us die undisturbed, and be at rest forever,' they answered. [Illustration: SCENERY ON THE WEST COAST OF AFRICA.] "Brave, faithful, loyal souls! They were, poor fellows, surrendering themselves to the benumbing influences of a listlessness and fatal indifference to life! Four of them died in consequence of this strange malady at Loanda, three more on board H.M.S. _Industry_, and one woman breathed her last the day after we arrived at Zanzibar. But in their sad death they had one consolation, in the words which they kept constantly repeating to themselves: "'We have brought our master to the great sea, and he has seen his white brothers, La il Allah, il Allah! There is no God but God!' they said--and died. "It is not without an overwhelming sense of grief, a choking in the throat, and swimming eyes, that I write of those days, for my memory is still busy with the worth and virtues of the dead. In a thousand fields of incident, adventure, and bitter trials they had proved their stanch heroism and their fortitude; they had lived and endured nobly. I remember the enthusiasm with which they responded to my appeals; I remember their bold bearing during the darkest days; I remember the Spartan pluck, the indomitable courage with which they suffered in the days of our adversity. Their voices again loyally answer me, and again I hear them address each other upon the necessity of standing by the 'master.' Their boat-song, which contained sentiments similar to the following-- "'The pale-faced stranger, lonely here, In cities afar, where his name is dear, Your Arab truth and strength shall show; He trusts in us, row, Arabs, row-- "despite all the sounds which now surround me, still charms my listening ear. [Illustration: A DANDY OF SAN PAULO DE LOANDA.] "The expedition, after a stay of eight days at Kabinda, was kindly taken on board the Portuguese gunboat _Taméga_, Commander José Marquez, to San Paulo de Loanda. The Portuguese officers distinguished themselves by a superb banquet, and an exhibition of extraordinary courtesy towards myself, and great sympathy towards my followers. Two gentlemen, Major Serpa Pinto and Senhor José Avelino Fernandez, who were on board, extended their hospitalities so far as to persuade me to accompany them to their residence in the capital of Angola. To house the one hundred and fourteen Wangwana who accompanied me was a great task on the liberality of these gentlemen, but the Portuguese Governor-General of Angola nobly released them and myself from all obligations, and all the expenses incurred by us from the 21st of August to the 27th of September were borne by the colony. One of the first acts of Governor-General Albuquerque was to despatch his aide-de-camp with offers of assistance, money, and a gunboat to convey me to Lisbon, which received, as it deserved, my warmest thanks. The Portuguese commodore gave a banquet to the Portuguese explorers. Major Serpa Pinto, Commander Brito Capello, and Lieutenant Roberto Ivens, who were about setting out for the exploration of the Kunené or Noursé River, as far as Bihé, thence to Lake Nyassa and Mozambique, and upon the festive occasion they honored me. The Board of Works at Loanda also banqueted us royally; as also did Mr. Michael Tobin, the banker, while Mr. Hubert Newton was unceasing in his hospitalities. "The government hospital at Luanda was open to the sick strangers; Doctor Lopez and his assistants daily visited the sick-ward of our residence, and a trained nurse was detailed to attend the suffering. Pure Samaritanism animated the enthusiastic Senhor Capello, and free, unselfish charity inspired my friend Avelino Fernandez to watch and tend the ailing, desponding, and exhausted travellers. "Nor must the English officers of the Royal Navy be forgotten for their chivalrous kindness. When I was wondering whether I should be compelled to lead the Wangwana across the continent to their homes, they solved my doubts and anxieties by offering the expedition a passage to Cape Town in H.M.S. _Industry_. The offer of the Portuguese governor-general to convey me in a gunboat to Lisbon, and the regular arrivals of the Portuguese mail steamers, were very tempting, but the condition of my followers was such that I found it impossible to leave them. "The cordial civilities that were accorded to us at Loanda were succeeded by equally courteous treatment on board the _Industry_. Her officers, Captain Dyer, Assistant-Surgeon William Brown, and Paymaster Edwin Sandys, assisted me to the utmost of their ability in alleviating the sufferings of the sick and reviving the vigor of the desponding. But the accomplished surgeon found his patients most difficult cases. The flame of life flickered and spluttered, and to fan it into brightness required in most of the cases patience and tact more than medicine. Yet there was a little improvement in them, though they were still heavy-eyed. "Upon arriving at Simon's Bay, Cape of Good Hope, on the 21st of October, I was agreeably surprised by a most genial letter, signed by Commodore Francis William Sullivan, who invited me to the Admiralty House as his guest, and from whom during the entire period of our stay at the Cape we met with the most hearty courtesy and hospitality. He had also made preparations for transporting the expedition to Zanzibar, when a telegram from the Lords of the British Admiralty was received, authorizing him to provide for the transmission of my followers to their homes, an act of gracious kindness for which I have recorded elsewhere my most sincere thanks. "Had we been able to accept all the invitations that were showered upon us by the kind-hearted colonists of South Africa, from Cape Town to Natal, it is possible we might still be enjoying our holiday at that remote end of Africa, but her Majesty's ship could not be delayed for our pleasure and gratification. But during the time she was refitting, the authorities of Cape Town and Stellenbosch, through the influence of Lady Frere, Commodore Sullivan, and Captain Mills, Colonial Secretary, exerted themselves so zealously to gratify and honor us, that I attribute a large share of the recovery in health of my followers to the cordial and unmistakable heartiness of the hospitalities they there enjoyed. Here the Wangwana saw for the first time the 'fire-carriage,' and, accompanied by Commodore Sullivan, the Dean of Cape Town, and several of the leading residents of the Cape, the expedition was whirled to Stellenbosch at the rate of thirty miles an hour, which, of all the wonders they had viewed, seemed to them the most signal example of the wonderful enterprise and superior intelligence of the European. "I ought not to omit describing a little episode that occurred soon after our arrival in Simon's Bay. For the first three days after landing at Simon's Town, blustering gales prevented me from returning to the ship. The people thereupon became anxious, and wondered whether this distant port was to terminate my connection with them. On returning to the ship, therefore, I found them even more melancholy than when I had left them. I asked the reason. [Illustration: VIEW OF SAN PAULO DE LOANDA--THE FORT OF SAN MIGUEL ON THE RIGHT.] "'You will return to Ulyah' (Europe), 'of course, now.' "'Why?' "'Oh, do we not see that you have met your friends, and all these days we have felt that you will shortly leave us?' "'Who told you so?' I asked, smiling at the bitterness visible in their faces. "'Our hearts; and they are very heavy.' "'Ah! and would it please you if I accompanied you to Zanzibar?' "'Why should you ask, master? Are you not our father?' "'Well, it takes a long time to teach you to rely upon the promise of your father. I have told you, over and over again, that nothing shall cause me to break my promise to you that I would take you home. You have been true to me, and I shall be true to you. If we can get no ship to take us, I will walk the entire distance with you until I can show you to your friends at Zanzibar.' "'Now we are grateful, master.' [Illustration: DHOWS IN THE HARBOR OF ZANZIBAR.] "I observed no sad faces after this day, and Captain Dyer and his officers noticed how they visibly improved and brightened up from this time. "On the 6th of November H.M.S. _Industry_ was equipped and ready for her voyage to Zanzibar. On the twelfth of the month she dropped anchor in the harbor of Natal to coal, and fourteen days after her departure from Natal the palmy island of Zanzibar rose into sight, and in the afternoon we were bearing straight for port. [Illustration: THE RECUPERATED AND RECLAD EXPEDITION AS IT APPEARED AT ADMIRALTY HOUSE, SIMON'S TOWN, AFTER OUR ARRIVAL ON H.M.S. "INDUSTRY."] "As I looked on the Wangwana, and saw the pleasure which now filled every soul, I felt myself amply rewarded for sacrificing several months to see them home. The sick had, all but one, recovered, and they had improved so much in appearance that few, ignorant of what they had been, could have supposed that these were the living skeletons that had reeled from sheer weakness through Boma. "The only patient who had baffled our endeavors to restore her to health was the woman Muscati, unfortunate Safeni's wife. Singular to relate, she lived to be embraced by her father, and the next morning died in his arms, surrounded by her relatives and friends. But all the others were blessed with redundant health--robust, bright, and happy. "And now the well-known bays and inlets, and spicy shores and red-tinted bluffs of Mbwenni enraptured them. Again they saw what they had often despaired of seeing: the rising ridge of Wilezu, at the foot of which they knew were their homes and their tiny gardens; the well-known features of Shangani and Melindi; the tall square mass of the sultan's palace. Each outline, each house, from the Sandy Point to their own Ngambu, each well-remembered bold swell of land, with its glories of palm and mango-tree, was to them replete with associations of bygone times. "The captain did not detain them on board. The boats were all lowered at once, and they crowded the gangway and ladder. I watched the first boat-load. "To those on the beach it was a surprise to see so many white-shirted, turbaned men making for shore from an English man-of-war. Were they slaves--or what? No; slaves they could not be, for they were too well dressed. Yet what could they be? "The boat-keel kissed the beach, and the impatient fellows leaped out and upward, and danced in ecstasy on the sands of their island; they then kneeled down, bowed their faces to the dear soil, and cried out, with emotion, their thanks to Allah! To the full they now taste the sweetness of the return home. The glad tidings ring out along the beach, 'It is Bwana Stanley's expedition that has returned.' "Then came bounding towards them their friends, acquaintances, countrymen, asking ever so many questions, all burning to know all about it. Where had they been? How came they to be on board the man-of-war? What had they seen? Who was dead? Where is So-and-so? You have gone beyond Nyangwé to the other sea? Mashallah! "The boats come and go. "More of the returned braves land, jump and frisk about, shake hands, embrace firmly and closely; they literally _leap_ into each other's arms, and there are many wet eyes there, for some terrible tales are told of death, disaster, and woe by the most voluble of the narrators, who seem to think it incumbent on them to tell all the news at once. The minor details, which are a thousand and a thousand, shall be told to-morrow and the next day, and the next, and for days and years to come. "The ship was soon emptied of her strange passengers. Captain Sullivan, of the _London_, came on board, and congratulated me on my safe arrival, and then I went on shore to my friend Mr. Augustus Sparhawk's house. We will pass over whatever may have transpired among the reunited friends, relatives, acquaintances, etc., but I will give substantially what Mabruki, a stout, bright-eyed lad, the Nestor of the youths during the expedition, related of his experiences the next day. "'Well, Mabruki, tell me, did you see your mother?' Mabruki, knowing I have a lively curiosity to know all about the meeting, because he had been sometimes inclined to despair of seeing poor old 'mamma' again, relaxes the severe tightness of his face, and out of his eyes there gushes such a flood of light as shows him to be brimful of happiness, and he hastens to answer, with a slight bob of the head, "'Yes, master.' "'Is she quite well? How does she look? What did she say when she saw her son such a great strong lad? Come, tell me all about it.' "'I will tell you--but ah! she is old now. She did not know me at first, because I burst open the door of our house, and I was one of the foremost to land, and I ran all the way from the boat to the house. She was sitting talking with a friend. When the door opened she cried out, "Who?" "'"Mi-mi, ma-ma. It is I, mother. It is I--Mabruki, mother. It is I, returned from the continent." "'"What! Mabruki, my son!" "'"Verily it is I, mother." "'She could scarcely believe I had returned, for she had heard no news. But soon all the women round about gathered together near the door, while the house was full to hear the news; and they were all crying and laughing and talking so fast, which they kept up far into the night. She is very proud of me, master. When the dinner was ready over twenty sat down to share with us. "Oh!" they all said, "you are a man indeed, now that you have been farther than any Arab has ever been."' "Four days of grace I permitted myself to procure the thousands of rupees required to pay off the people for their services. Messages had also been sent to the relatives of the dead, requesting them to appear at Mr. Sparhawk's, prepared to make their claims good by the mouths of three witnesses. "On the fifth morning the people--men, women, and children--of the Anglo-American Expedition, attended by hundreds of friends, who crowded the street and the capacious rooms of the Bertram Agency, began to receive their well-earned dues. "The women, thirteen in number, who had borne the fatigues of the long, long journey, who had transformed the stern camp in the depths of the wilds into something resembling a village in their own island, who had encouraged their husbands to continue in their fidelity despite all adversity, were all rewarded. "The children of the chiefs who had accompanied us from Zanzibar to the Atlantic, and who, by their childish, careless prattle, had often soothed me in mid-Africa, and had often caused me to forget my responsibilities for the time, were not forgotten. Neither were the tiny infants--ushered into the world amid the dismal and tragic scenes of the cataract lands, and who, with their eyes wide open with wonder, now crowed and crooned at the gathering of happy men and elated women about them--omitted in this final account and reckoning. "The second pay-day was devoted to hearing the claims for wages due to the faithful dead. Poor faithful souls! With an ardor and a fidelity unexpected, and an immeasurable confidence, they had followed me to the very death. True, negro nature had often asserted itself, but it was after all but human nature. They had never boasted that they were heroes, but they exhibited truly heroic stuff while coping with the varied terrors of the hitherto untrodden and apparently endless wilds of broad Africa. [Illustration: 1. Wife of Murabo. 2. Wife of Robert. 3. Wife of Mana Koko. 4. Half-caste of Ganbaragara, whom Wadi Rehani married. 5. Zaidi's wife. 6. Wife of Wadi Baraka. 7. Wife of Manwa Sera. 8. Wife of Chowpereh. 9. Wife of Muini Pembé. 10. Wife of Muscati. 11. Wife of Chiwonda. 12. Wife of Mufta. THE WOMEN OF THE EXPEDITION.] "The female relatives filed in. With each name of the dead, old griefs were remembered. The poignant sorrow I felt--as the fallen were named after each successive conflict in those dark days never to be forgotten by me--was revived. Sad and subdued were the faces of those I saw; as sad and subdued as my own feelings. With such sympathies between us we soon arrived at a satisfactory understanding. Each woman was paid without much explanation required--one witness was sufficient. There were men, however, who were put to great shifts. They appeared to have no identity. None of my own people would vouch for the relationship; no respectable man knew them. Several claimed money upon the ground that they were acquaintances; that they had been slaves under one master, and had become freemen together on their master's death. Parents and brothers were not difficult to identify. The settlement of the claims lasted five days, and then--the Anglo-American Expedition was no more. "On the 13th of December the British India Steam Navigation Company's steamer _Pachumba_ sailed from Zanzibar for Aden, on board which Mr. William Mackinnon had ordered a state-room for me. My followers through Africa had all left their homes early, that they might be certain to arrive in time to witness my departure. They were there now, every one of them arrayed in the picturesque dress of their countrymen. The fulness of the snowy dishdasheh and the amplitude of the turban gave a certain dignity to their forms, and each sported a light cane. Upon inquiring I ascertained that several had already purchased handsome little properties--houses and gardens--with their wages, proving that the long journey had brought, with its pains and rough experience, a good deal of thrift and wisdom. "When I was about to step into the boat, the brave, faithful fellows rushed before me and shot the boat into the sea, and then lifted me up on their heads and carried me through the surf into the boat. "We shook hands twenty times twenty, I think, and then at last the boat started. "I saw them consult together, and presently saw them run down the beach and seize a great twenty-ton lighter, which they soon manned and rowed after me. They followed me thus to the steamer, and a deputation of them came on board, headed by the famous Uledi, the coxswain; Kachéché, the chief detective; Robert, my indispensable factotum; Zaidi, the chief, and Wadi Rehani, the storekeeper, to inform me that they still considered me as their master, and that they would not leave Zanzibar until they received a letter from me announcing my safe arrival in my own country. I had, they said, taken them round all Africa to bring them back to their homes, and they must know that I had reached my own land before they would go to seek new adventures on the continent, and--simple, generous souls!--that if I wanted their help to reach my country they would help me! [Illustration: STANLEY, AS HE LEFT ENGLAND FOR AFRICA IN 1874.] "They were sweet and sad moments, those of parting. What a long, long and true friendship was here sundered! Through what strange vicissitudes of life had they not followed me! What wild and varied scenes had we not seen together! What a noble fidelity these untutored souls had exhibited! The chiefs were those who had followed me to Ujiji in 1871; they had been witnesses of the joy of Livingstone at the sight of me; they were the men to whom I intrusted the safeguard of Livingstone on his last and fatal journey, who had mourned by his corpse at Muilala, and borne the illustrious dead to the Indian Ocean. [Illustration: STANLEY, AS HE REACHED ZANZIBAR IN 1877.] "And in a flood of sudden recollection, all the stormy period here ended rushed in upon my mind; the whole panorama of danger and tempest through which these gallant fellows had so stanchly stood by me--these gallant fellows now parting from me. Rapidly, as in some apocalyptic vision, every scene of strife with man and nature through which these poor men and women had borne me company, and solaced me by the simple sympathy of common suffering, came hurrying across my memory; for each face before me was associated with some adventure or some peril, reminded me of some triumph or of some loss. What a wild, weird retrospect it was, that mind's flash over the troubled past! So like a troublous dream! "And for years and years to come, in many homes in Zanzibar, will be told the great story of our journey, and the actors in it will be heroes among their kith and kin. For me, too, they are heroes, these poor, ignorant children of Africa; for, from the first deadly struggle in savage Ituru to the last staggering rush into Embomma, they had rallied to my voice like veterans, and in the hour of need they had never failed me. And thus, aided by their willing hands and by their loyal hearts, the expedition had been successful, and the three great problems of the Dark Continent's geography had been fairly solved." Fred paused and closed the book. The young gentleman's voice was husky; in fact it had been so at several points in his reading, and there were tears in his eyes as a natural accompaniment of the huskiness. He had been compelled to stop two or three times while reading Mr. Stanley's letter appealing "to any gentleman who speaks English at Embomma" to send relief to his starving companions, and also when he read the account of the arrival of the caravan with provisions for the suffering, dying people. Fred's auditors were equally affected by this touching narrative, and not one of them ventured to utter a word for fear he should break down before completing a single sentence. For two or three minutes no one moved or spoke. Finally Doctor Bronson made a remark that "broke the ice," and the formalities of the occasion came to an end. "That story of the suffering and relief in the last days of the journey through the Dark Continent always brings tears to my eyes," said the Doctor, as the party separated. "In Paris, in 1878, I was at a dinner party at which Stanley was the principal guest. He was then fresh from Africa, and when pressed to tell us something of his experience there he gave the story which you have just heard. When he repeated the contents of his letter, which he did from memory, and told of the prompt and generous response to his appeal, every cheek at that table was wet, and every one of the twenty or more men that composed the party pronounced it the most affecting story he had ever heard." And with this little incident the members of the _Eider_ Geographical Society adjourned to the open air. CHAPTER XIX. THE LAST MEETING ON BOARD THE _EIDER_.--FOUNDING THE FREE STATE OF CONGO.--MR. STANLEY'S LATER WORK ON THE GREAT RIVER.--BUILDING ROADS AND ESTABLISHING STATIONS.--MAKING PEACE WITH THE NATIVES.--BULA MATARI.--RESOURCES OF THE CONGO VALLEY.--STANLEY'S LATEST BOOK.--STEAMERS ON THE RIVER.--THE CONGO RAILWAY.--STANLEY'S PRESENT MISSION IN AFRICA.--EMIN PASHA AND HIS WORK.--HOW STANLEY PROPOSES TO RELIEVE HIM.--DR. SCHNITZLER.--BEY OR PASHA?--MWANGA, KING OF UGANDA.--HIS HOSTILITY TO WHITE MEN.--KILLING BISHOP HANNINGTON.--THE EGYPTIAN EQUATORIAL PROVINCE.--LETTER FROM STANLEY.--HIS PLANS FOR THE RELIEF EXPEDITION.--TIPPU-TIB AND HIS MEN.--FROM ZANZIBAR TO THE CONGO. On the next day there was another meeting of the geographical society, at which votes of thanks were given to Frank and Fred for their successful effort to interest and amuse their fellow-voyagers. One of the latter suggested that it would be a good plan to ask the author of the "Boy Traveller Series" to make a book for young people by condensing the two volumes of "Through the Dark Continent" into one, just as Frank and Fred had condensed them for the readings they had given on board the steamer. The suggestion was unanimously approved, and in compliance with it this book has been prepared. Doctor Bronson said they would be pleased to know that "Through the Dark Continent" was simultaneously issued in nine languages, an honor never before shown to a book on its first publication. One of the youths said he believed Mr. Stanley had published another book about the Congo country; he wished to know its title so that he could get a copy, as he was sure it would be interesting. "I'll tell you about that book," said the Doctor, "and why it was written. While Mr. Stanley was making his journey which is described in "Through the Dark Continent," an association was formed in Belgium for the purpose of developing trade and pushing civilization in Africa. It was under the patronage of Leopold II., King of the Belgians, and soon after Mr. Stanley returned to Europe King Leopold engaged him to go to Africa and manage the affairs of the International African Association, as the new enterprise was called. He went to the Congo valley in 1879 and remained there nearly six years. He made two or three trips to Europe during the period of his engagement, and one trip to Zanzibar; with the exception of the time spent on these journeys, he was occupied with personally supervising the work of developing trade and civilization on the Congo." [Illustration: NGAHMA, A CONGO CHIEF.] "How did he do it?" was the very natural interrogatory that followed. "He employed a large number of natives from the coast, Zanzibaris and others, and established stations at various points along the river. His first station is at the foot of the last cataracts on the Congo, and is called Vivi; steamboats and ships of light draft can land at its wharves and deliver or receive merchandise without difficulty. From Vivi he built a wagon-road among the hills and across the plains on the north bank of the Congo to the Isangila cataract, where he established Isangila station. Along the road he carried steamboats which had been so built that they could be readily taken apart, and put together again when navigable water was reached. Above Isangila there is a distance of ninety miles where the Congo is navigable, and here the steamboats were used for purposes of transportation until falls were reached again. Then another station (Manyanga) was established, more road was built, and so on step by step Mr. Stanley reached Stanley Pool, at the head of the group of cataracts that obstruct the navigation of the Lower Congo. Here he established a station and started the town of Leopoldville, the name being given in honor of the illustrious patron of the enterprise. [Illustration: VIEW OF VIVI, FROM THE ISANGILA ROAD.] "It was slow work building roads, transporting material, goods, and provisions, establishing stations, negotiating with the local chiefs, and in other ways performing the work of permanent colonization along the great river. The expedition landed at Vivi in September, 1879; it was not until June, 1881, that it reached Stanley Pool, above the highest of the cataracts. To say that the Africans were astonished at the enterprise is to state the case very feebly. They gave Stanley the name of Bula Matari (Rock Breaker), in consequence of his cutting through the rocks in his work of road-making. Such a thing had never before been known in Africa, and as Bula Matari he is known there to this day and will long be remembered. [Illustration: PORT OF LEOPOLDVILLE.] "From Stanley Pool the Congo is navigable to Stanley Falls, a distance of nearly one thousand miles. As soon as the steamers could be put together and affairs at Leopoldville were in a tranquil condition, Mr. Stanley proceeded up the river and established stations at various points. Then he explored some of the tributaries of the great river, discovered a lake which he named Leopold II., established peaceable relations with the native tribes, opened trade wherever trade was possible, and learned as much as he could about the country and its sources. On his first expedition, described in 'Through the Dark Continent,' he learned enough to convince him that the resources of the Congo were very great; what he ascertained during his later explorations confirmed in every way his earlier impressions and made him an enthusiastic advocate of the settlement and development of the Congo basin. "I haven't time to give you more than a bare outline of the work he performed there. The story is told in his later book, 'The Congo, and the Founding of its Free State,' a work in two volumes, which, like the 'Dark Continent,' has been published in several languages. Mr. Stanley returned from Africa in season to take part in the Congress or Conference of nations at Berlin in the latter part of 1884, where the affairs of the Congo State were discussed and an international treaty was made establishing the relations of the new state with the rest of the world. The country was opened to the commerce of all nations on the principle of free trade; a large territory on the north of the Congo State was given to France, while the right of Portugal to a large area on the south was established. Previous to the Conference there was a threat of trouble with both France and Portugal, but all was made smooth when the plenipotentiaries met and talked matters over. "The progress of civilization on the Congo has been very rapid," Doctor Bronson continued. "Before Mr. Stanley's adventurous journey in 1877 no white man had looked upon the Congo between Nyangwé and the lower cataracts; now there are permanent stations and trading posts all the way along the great stream from its mouth to Stanley Falls, and several stations have been established on the tributaries of the Congo wherever there is a promise of commerce. The route to Nyangwé is as safe as any part of Africa, and from thence to Tanganika Lake and Zanzibar there are no obstacles to traffic and travel. Recently a young officer of the Swedish navy crossed the African continent by way of the Congo, Nyangwé, and Lake Tanganika, and thence by the usual route to Zanzibar. He made the entire journey in seven months, or in two months less time than was taken by Stanley for his descent of the Congo from Nyangwé to Boma." One of the youths asked how many steamboats are now on the Congo and its tributaries. [Illustration: A PHOTOGRAPH.] "Mr. Stanley told me this morning," replied the Doctor, "that there are eight steamers running above Leopoldville and Stanley Pool, and two on the ninety-mile strip of navigable water between the Isangila Fall and Manyanga. Several new steamers will be placed on the Congo during 1887, some by the Congo State, others by an American trading company, and others by the missionaries. By the end of 1887 it is probable that not fewer than twenty steamers will be established on the Congo, at least fifteen of them above the lower series of falls. It is in contemplation to place steamers above Stanley Falls, so that navigation can be continued to Nyangwé and thus shorten the time of transit from the lower Congo to Lake Tanganika. The whole valley of the Congo is open to the commerce of the world only ten years after Mr. Stanley's famous journey 'Through the Dark Continent.'" [Illustration: A CONGO HOUSE.] The Doctor paused a moment to glance at a slip which had been cut from a newspaper, and then continued: "At its mouth the Congo River is of enormous depth, but only one hundred miles or so above Stanley Pool, Captain Braconnier said, a year or two ago, that 'steam-launches drawing barely two and a half feet of water have to be dragged along by our men.' H. H. Johnston mentions the same fact in his description of the Congo. 'Our boat is constantly running aground on sand-banks,' he wrote. 'It has an extraordinary effect to see men walking half-way over a great branch of the river, with water only up to their ankles, tracing the course of some hidden sand-bank.' Stanley, Johnston, and others attributed the remarkable shallowness of the river to its great breadth in this part of its course; but none of them knew how wide the river really is above the Kassai River. "We now have some new light on this question, which is a very interesting one, because the Congo is next to the greatest river in the world, and new discoveries with regard to it are apt to be on a large scale. Captain Rouvier has been surveying this part of the river, and he finds that for a distance of about fifty miles the Congo is much wider than was supposed. Its width, in fact, is from fifteen to twenty miles, a circumstance that has not been discovered before on account of many long islands, some of which have always been taken for one shore of the river. It follows, therefore, that there is an expanse on the upper Congo similar to and very much larger than Stanley Pool. Steamboats have passed each other in this enlargement of the river without knowing of each other's proximity. [Illustration: THE EFFECT OF CIVILIZATION.] "It is easy to understand, therefore, how it happens that the Congo is in this place so very shallow, while in narrow portions of the lower river no plummet-line has ever yet touched bottom. Navigation in this part of the Congo would be almost impossible were it not that here and there soundings are revealing channels deep and wide enough for all the requirements of steamboat traffic. "The great explorer has planned a railway from Vivi to Leopoldville, so that the lower series of falls on the river will no longer be a hinderance to commerce. This railway will be about two hundred and thirty-five miles long, and Mr. Stanley estimates its cost and equipment at something less than five millions of dollars, or one million pounds sterling. He estimates its annual revenue from freight alone at one and a half million dollars, while the passenger business would not be an unimportant item. The up-freights would consist of cotton cloth, beads, wire, muskets, gunpowder, cutlery, china-ware, iron, and other African 'trade-goods,' while the down-freights would include ivory, palm-oil, ground-nuts, hippopotamus teeth and hides, rubber, beeswax, gum copal, monkey and other skins, and several kinds of fine woods used in cabinet-making. Doubtless other products of Central Africa would come into market which are now unknown in consequence of the high cost of transportation. [Illustration: A NATIVE OF THE LOWER CONGO.] "Mr. Stanley says the navigable waters of the Congo basin that would have their outlet through the Congo railway are more than five thousand miles in length, draining a country of more than a million square miles, much of which is well peopled. The free State of Congo, as defined by the Berlin Conference, includes a territory of one million five hundred and eight thousand square miles, with a population estimated at forty-two million six hundred and eight thousand. North of the Congo State is the French possession of sixty-two thousand square miles and two million one hundred and twenty-one thousand six hundred inhabitants, and on the south is the Portuguese territory of thirty thousand seven hundred square miles and three hundred thousand inhabitants. So you see the Congo State, which our friend has created, is one third the area of the United States and more than one half its population. "And here," said the Doctor, "is a speech made by Mr. Stanley at a dinner which was given to him by the Lotos Club of New York, in November, 1886. I will read an extract from it, with your permission." Everybody signified a desire to hear it, whereupon Doctor Bronson read as follows: "I set out to Africa intending to complete Livingstone's explorations, also to settle the Nile problem as to where the head-waters of the Nile were, as to whether Lake Victoria consisted of one lake, one body of water, or a number of shallow lakes; to throw some light on Sir Samuel Baker's Albert Nyanza, and also to discover the outlet of Lake Tanganika, and then to find out what strange, mysterious river this was which Livingstone saw at Nyangwé--whether it were the Nile, the Niger, or the Congo. Edwin Arnold, the author of 'The Light of Asia,' said, 'Do you think you can do all this?' 'Don't ask me such a conundrum as that. Put down the funds and tell me to go. That's all.' And he induced Lawson, the proprietor, to consent. The funds were had, and I went. "First of all we settled the problem of the Victoria; that it was one body of water; that instead of being a cluster of shallow lakes or marshes, it was one body of water, twenty-one thousand five hundred square miles in extent. While endeavoring to throw light upon Sir Samuel Baker's Albert Nyanza, we discovered a new lake, a much superior lake to the Albert Nyanza--the Dead Locust Lake--and at the same time Gordon Pasha sent his lieutenant to discover and circumnavigate the Albert Nyanza, and he found it to be only a miserable one hundred and forty miles, because Baker, in a fit of enthusiasm, had stood on the brow of a high plateau and, looking down on the dark-blue waters of Albert Nyanza, cried, romantically: 'I see it extending indefinitely towards the southwest!' 'Indefinitely' is not a geographical expression, gentlemen. "We found that there was no outlet to the Tanganika, although it was a sweet-water lake. After settling that problem, day after day, as we glided down the strange river that had lured and bewildered Livingstone, we were in as much doubt as Livingstone had been when he wrote his last letter and said: 'I will never be made black man's meat for anything less than the classic Nile.' After travelling four hundred miles we came to the Stanley Falls, and beyond them we saw the river deflect from its Nileward course towards the northwest. Then it turned west, and visions of towers and towns and strange tribes and strange nations broke upon our imagination, and we wondered what we were going to see, when the river suddenly took a decided turn towards the southwest, and our dreams were terminated. We saw then that it was aiming directly for the Congo, and when we had propitiated some natives whom we encountered by showing them crimson beads and polished wire that had been polished for the occasion, we said: 'This for your answer. What river is this?' 'Why, it is _the_ river, of course.' That was not an answer, and it required some persuasion before the chief, bit by bit, digging into his brain, managed to roll out sonorously the words: 'It is the Ko-to-yah Congo'--'It is the river of Congoland.' "Alas for our classic dreams! Alas for Crophi and Mophi, the fabled fountains of Herodotus! Alas for the banks of the river where Moses was found by the daughter of Pharaoh! This is the parvenu Congo! Then we glided on and on, past strange nations and cannibals--not past those nations which have their heads under their arms--for eleven hundred miles, until we arrived at a circular extension of the river, and my last remaining white companion called it the Stanley Pool, and then, five months after that, our journey ended. "After that I had a very good mind to come back to America and say, like the Queen of Uganda, 'There, what did I tell you?' But you know the fates would not permit me to come over in 1878. The very day I landed in Europe, the King of Italy gave me an express train to convey me to France, and the very moment I descended from it at Marseilles, there were three ambassadors from the King of the Belgians, asking me to go back to Africa. "'What! Back to Africa? Never! I have come for civilization. I have come for enjoyment. I have come for love, for life, for pleasure. Not I. Go and ask some of those people you know who have never yet been to Africa. I have had enough of it.' 'Well, perhaps, by and by--' 'Ah, I don't know what will happen by and by, but just now, never, never! Not for Rothschild's wealth!' "I was received by the Paris Geographical Society, and it was then I began to feel, 'Well, after all, I have done something, haven't I?' I felt superb. But you know I have always considered myself a republican. I have those bullet-riddled flags and those arrow-torn flags, the Stars and Stripes, that I carried in Africa for the discovery of Livingstone, and that crossed Africa, and I venerate those old flags. I have them in London, now jealously guarded in the secret recesses of my cabinet. I allow only my best friends to look at them, and if any of you gentlemen ever happen in at my quarters, I will show them to you. "After I had written my book, 'Through the Dark Continent,' I began to lecture, using these words: 'I have passed through a land watered by the largest river of the African continent, and that land knows no owner. A word to the wise is sufficient. You have cloths and hardware and glass-ware and gunpowder, and those millions of natives have ivory and gums and rubber and dyestuffs, and in barter there is good profit. "'The King of the Belgians commissioned me to go to that country. My expedition when we started from the coast numbered three hundred colored people and fourteen Europeans. We returned with three thousand trained black men and three hundred Europeans. The first sum allowed to me was $50,000 per year, but it has ended at something like $700,000 a year. Thus you see the progress of civilization. We found the Congo having only canoes. To-day there are eight steamers. It was said at first that King Leopold was a dreamer. He dreamed he could unite the barbarians of Africa into a confederacy and call it a free state; but on February 25, 1885, the powers of Europe, and America also, ratified an act recognizing the territories acquired by us to be the free and independent State of the Congo.' "Perhaps when the members of the Lotos Club have reflected a little more upon the value of what Livingstone and Leopold have been doing, they will also agree that these men have done their duty in this world, and in the age that they live, and that their labor has not been in vain, on account of the great sacrifices they have made, to the benighted millions of dark Africa." Here the Doctor paused to enable his listeners to ponder a few moments on the magnitude of the work which their hero had accomplished, and also to wait for any question which might be asked. The first interrogatory referred to Mr. Stanley's present mission to Africa, for which he had abandoned his lecturing tour in America. "What is he going to Africa for now?" said one of the youths. "I have read that it is to relieve somebody who is shut up in the middle of the country and can't get out." "You are quite right," was the reply, "but in order to have you comprehend the situation I must give you a little explanation. [Illustration: EMIN PASHA.] "Most of you know," the Doctor continued, "about the rebellion in the Soudan country several years ago by which Egypt lost her possessions in Central Africa, and her power was completely overthrown in a region that she had held for more than sixty years, or had conquered since that time. Khartoum was captured, General Gordon was killed, and the provinces of the Soudan became independent of the khedive. Many of the white men in the country were forced to enter the service of the rebels in order to save their lives, as escape was next to impossible. "This was the case in the northern part of the Soudan, and it was generally supposed that the same state of affairs prevailed farther south. The equatorial province of the Egyptian Soudan was entirely cut off from communication with the outer world, and the belief was general that its governor, Emin Bey, had been killed by the rebels. But in the latter part of 1886 news came that he was still alive, and had maintained his position in a hostile country through the fidelity of the Egyptian troops that remained with him. He was short of ammunition and destitute of many other things necessary for the support of his people, his soldiers were in rags, and he feared that he would not be able to hold out much longer unless relief was sent to him." [Illustration: BLACKSMITH'S FORGE AND BELLOWS.] One of the youths asked how the news was brought from Emin's province so that the rest of the world could get it. "It was brought," was the reply, "by Dr. Junker, a Russian scientist, who was with Emin at the time of the insurrection. You remember King Mtesa of Uganda, whom Mr. Stanley converted to Christianity and who asked that missionaries should be sent to instruct his people? Well, the missionaries went there and were well received, but before they had accomplished anything of consequence Mtesa died and was succeeded by his son Mwanga. The son was opposed to the new religion, and very soon after he was raised to the throne he imprisoned the missionaries and ordered all of his people who had embraced Christianity to be put to death. Bishop Hannington, who had gone from England to take charge of the mission work in Central Africa, was killed by orders of Mwanga, and all white men were forbidden to set foot in the country. Dr. Junker came through Uganda on his way to the sea-coast, but he was brought ostensibly as a slave by an Arab trader. Mwanga heard that there was a white man in the Arab merchant's caravan, but when the merchant told him that it was a slave he had bought, and exhibited the captive tied with the rest of the slaves, the king made no objection. He was, no doubt, so greatly rejoiced to see the white man in captivity and disgrace that he did not wish to disturb him."[11] [11] Since the above was written a telegram has been received from Zanzibar, April 15th, which says: "A Somali trader from the Uganda country has arrived here bearing advices from Emin Bey. He was established, when the trader left, at Wadelai, north of the Albert Nyanza. He had two small steamers plying on the White Nile and on the lake. In November, which was four months later than the advices brought by Dr. Junker, Emin Bey visited the King of Unyoro, who was a six days' journey from Uganda. Emin Bey was accompanied on this journey by Dr. Vita Hassan, ten Egyptian officers, three Greeks, and four negroes. Subsequently he asked Mwanga, the King of Uganda, to receive him. The king said he would willingly receive him if he came without followers. Emin Bey thereupon went to King Mwanga, accompanied by Dr. Vita and three Greeks. He and his companions remained with the king seventeen days. Emin asked the king for permission to pass through his territory towards Zanzibar. The king, upon hearing this request, ordered the visitors to return the way they came, and declared he would have nothing more to do with Europeans. King Mwanga is a youth only eighteen years of age. He has a thousand wives. Sometimes he wears a Turkish and at other times an Arab costume, and often reverts to the native simplicity in the matter of dress. Emin Bey, when the king ordered him to return the way he came, went back to Wadelai, and was glad to escape from Mwanga's country. The Somali states that the messengers despatched from Zanzibar to carry information to Emin Bey that Mr. Stanley had gone with an expedition by way of the Congo River to effect his rescue were detained in Unyanyembé by the king, who was indisposed to allow them to proceed." [Illustration: SOME OF EMIN PASHA'S IRREGULAR TROOPS.] "What is the nationality of Emin?" queried Fred; "and why is he sometimes called Emin Bey and sometimes Emin Pasha?" [Illustration: IVORY-EATING SQUIRREL, CENTRAL AFRICA.] "Emin is his Egyptian name," answered Doctor Bronson, "but the gentleman is of Austrian birth and his real name is Dr. Schnitzler. He was an Austrian physician at the Turkish court at one time; afterwards he went to Egypt, and in 1877 was appointed to the command of the equatorial province of Egypt. He is about forty-two years old, tall and thin, very near-sighted, and a most accomplished linguist; he speaks German, French, English, Italian, Arabic, Turkish, and several African languages, is a great scientist and a prudent and careful commander of his people. At last accounts he had with him ten white Egyptian officers, fifteen black non-commissioned officers, twenty Coptish clerks, and three hundred Egyptian soldiers with their families. [Illustration: BATTLE BETWEEN NATIVE WARRIORS AND EGYPTIAN TROOPS.] "The rank of bey in the Turkish and Egyptian service corresponds to that of colonel in our language, while pasha or pacha is the equivalent of general. Since he was appointed to the command of the province Emin has been promoted; he was then Emin Bey and is now Emin Pasha. It is the Oriental custom to put the title after the name instead of before it; just as we might say Smith General, or Brown Major." [Illustration: NATIVE WARRIOR IN EMIN PASHA'S PROVINCE.] "And can't Emin Pasha get away from where he is?" one of the youths asked. "Certainly, if he came with a small body of picked men and with reliable guides," was the reply. "But he could not get away with all his people and their families, and he absolutely refuses to desert them. They have been faithful to him, and he believes in rewarding fidelity with fidelity. "He cannot come away through Uganda," Doctor Bronson explained, "because the new king, Mwanga, would not let him pass. He cannot go through Unyoro because the king of that country is leagued with Mwanga to keep out all white men, and kill them if they persist in entering his territory. There is a route through Masai land, north of Lake Victoria, but it would be unsafe, as the King of Uganda would be sure to hear of an expedition there and take measures to stop it. He might travel westward to the Congo or one of its tributaries without much danger of interference, but he has no provisions and too little ammunition to defend himself and his people in case of hostility." "And I suppose Mr. Stanley is going to carry ammunition, trade goods, and money to Emin Pasha," said one of the young auditors. "He has been engaged for that object," replied the Doctor. "The cost of the expedition is to be paid partly by the Egyptian government and partly by liberal gentlemen in Great Britain. Mr. William Mackinnon, a wealthy Scotchman, has contributed one hundred thousand dollars for the enterprise, and other gentlemen have given freely to the good work. [Illustration: THE KING OF UNYORO AND HIS GREAT CHIEFS.] "I call it good work," he continued, "because, according to all accounts, Emin Pasha has created a model government in the middle of Africa, and greatly benefited the people under his charge. He has suppressed slavery and slave-trading, taught many useful employments to the natives, developed agriculture, the raising of cattle and other industries, and almost entirely put an end to crime of all sorts. The province is divided into districts, each of which has a military station in its centre, where the taxes in grain and cattle are paid. Lado, the capital, is a well-built town, with a fortification for its defence, and the sanitary arrangements are of the most perfect character. Everything at Lado is under the personal supervision of Emin Pasha, and his subjects have learned to love him for the good he has done them. "If Emin Pasha should be forced to flee or surrender, the country would speedily fall into its old ways, and all the horrors of the slave-trade would be renewed; consequently Mr. Stanley's mission is in the nature of a missionary enterprise, and we should all hope for its complete success. We shall know more about it after we have been awhile in England, as Mr. Stanley is naturally reticent about his plans, and, in fact, cannot make them very definitely until he arrives there. So we will drop the subject for the present, and, if there is no further business, it will be well for us to adjourn." In accordance with this suggestion, the society made its final adjournment, but we may be sure that its sessions will long be remembered by those who attended them. On the arrival of the steamer at Southampton our friends said good-bye to Mr. Stanley, with many wishes for his success in his new journey to the Dark Continent. In response to their friendly words Mr. Stanley made cordial expression of his pleasure at having made their acquaintance, which he hoped to renew about a year later, if all should go well with him and his expedition. * * * * * Mr. Stanley remained about three weeks in England, busily occupied with preparations for his journey, and making a hasty trip to Brussels to confer with King Leopold, who placed the Congo fleet and the property of the Congo State generally at the explorer's disposal. The supplies, ammunition, and other material were shipped from England direct to the Congo, and Mr. Stanley proceeded to Zanzibar, by way of Cairo, to engage men for the expedition. What he accomplished there is best told in the following letter from his pen: [Illustration: NATIVE WAR DANCE.] "On arriving at Zanzibar I found our agent, Mr. Mackenzie, had managed everything so well, with the good offices of Mr. Holmwood, the acting consul-general, that the expedition was almost ready for embarkation. The steamer _Madura_, of the British India Steam Navigation Company, was in the harbor, provisioned and watered for the voyage. The goods for barter and transport animals were on board. There were a few things to be done, however; such as arranging with the famous Tippu-Tib about our line of conduct towards one another. Tippu-Tib is a much greater man to-day than he was in the year 1877, when he escorted my caravan, preliminary to our voyage down the Congo. He has invested his hard-earned fortune in guns and powder. Adventurous Arabs have flocked to his standard until he is now an uncrowned king of the region between Stanley Falls and Tanganika Lake, commanding many thousands of men inured to fighting and wild equatorial life. If I discovered hostile intentions in him my idea was to give him a wide berth, for the ammunition I had to convoy to Emin Pasha, if captured and employed by him, would endanger the existence of the infant State of the Congo, and imperil all our hopes. Between Tippu-Tib and Mwanga, King of Uganda, there was only a choice of the frying-pan and the fire. It was with due caution that I sounded Tippu-Tib on the first day of my arrival, and I found him fully prepared for any eventuality, to fight or to be employed. I chose the latter, and we proceeded to business. You will please understand that his aid was not required to enable me to reach Emin Pasha, or to show the road to Wadelay, or Lake Albert, which is a region he knows nothing about. There are four roads available from the Congo; two of them were in Tippu-Tib's power to close, the remaining two were clear of his influence. But Dr. Junker informed me at our Cairo interview that Emin Pasha had about seventy-five tons of ivory with him. So much ivory would amount to £60,000, at eight shillings per pound. The subscription of Egypt to the Emin Pasha Relief Fund is large for her present state of depressed finances. In this ivory we have a possible means of recouping the sum paid out of her treasury, with a large sum left towards defraying expenses, and perhaps leaving a handsome balance. Why not attempt the carriage of this ivory to the Congo? Accordingly I wished to engage Tippu-Tib and his people to assist me in conveying this ivory. After a good deal of bargaining I entered into a contract with him, by which he agreed to supply six hundred carriers at £6 per loaded head each round trip, from Stanley Falls to Lake Albert and back. Thus, if each carrier carries seventy pounds weight of ivory, one round trip will bring to the fund £13,200 net at Stanley Falls. [Illustration: BREED OF CATTLE IN EMIN PASHA'S PROVINCE.] "On the conclusion of this contract, which was entered into in the presence of the British consul-general, I broached another subject with Tippu-Tib in the name of his majesty, King Leopold. Stanley Falls station was established by me in December, 1883. Various Europeans have since commanded this station, and Lieutenant Wester, of the Swedish army, had succeeded in making it a well-ordered and presentable station. Captain Deane, his successor, however, quarrelled with the Arabs, and at his forced departure from the scene set fire to the station and blew up the Krupps. The object for which the station was established was the prevention of the Arabs from pursuing their devastating career below the falls--not so much by force as by tact, or, rather, the happy combination of both. By the retreat of the officers of the State from Stanley Falls the flood-gates were opened and the Arabs pressed down the river. Tippu-Tib being, of course, the guiding-spirit of the Arabs west of Tanganika Lake, it was advisable to see how far his aid might be secured to check this stream of Arabs from destroying the country. After the interchange of messages by cable with Brussels, on the second day of my stay at Zanzibar, I signed an engagement with Tippu-Tib by which he was appointed Governor of Stanley Falls, at a regular salary, paid monthly at Zanzibar to the British consul-general's hands. His duties will be principally to defend Stanley Falls in the name of the State against all Arabs and natives. The flag of the station will be that of the State. At all hazards he is to defeat and capture all persons raiding the territory for slaves, and to disperse all bodies of men who may be justly suspected of violent designs. He is to abstain from all slave-traffic below the falls himself, and to prevent all in his command from trading in slaves. In order to insure a faithful performance of his engagements with the State, a European officer is to be appointed Resident at the falls. A breach of any article in the contract being reported, the salary is to cease. [Illustration: LADO, CAPITAL OF EGYPTIAN EQUATORIAL PROVINCE.] "Meantime, while I was engaged in these negotiations, Mr. Mackenzie had paid four months' advance wages to six hundred and twenty men and boys enlisted in the relief expedition, and as fast as each batch of fifty men was satisfactorily paid, a barge was hauled alongside, the men were duly embarked, and a steam-launch towed the barge to the transport. By three P.M. all hands were on board, and the steamer moved off to a more distant anchorage. By midnight Tippu-Tib and his people and every person connected with the expedition were on board, and at day-break next day, the 25th of February, the anchor was lifted, and we steamed away towards the Cape of Good Hope. [Illustration: SCHOOLI WARRIOR, EGYPTIAN EQUATORIAL PROVINCE.] "So far there has not been a hitch in any arrangement. Difficulties have been smoothed as if by magic. Everybody has shown the utmost sympathy and been prompt with the assistance required. The officers of the expedition were kept fully employed from morning to evening at laborious tasks connected with the repacking of the ammunition for Emin Pasha's force. Letters were also sent by myself to Emin Pasha, acquainting him with our mission and the probable time of our arrival at Lake Albert, with directions as to the locality we should aim for. Tippu-Tib likewise sent couriers to Stanley Falls to acquaint his people of his departure by sea round the Cape to the Congo, with orders to concentrate in readiness at the falls." [Illustration: FORTIFIED VILLAGE NEAR LADO.] Before leaving Cairo, where he had an interview with Dr. Junker, Mr. Stanley wrote to the chairman of the relief committee in London, in which he explained the objects of the expedition as follows: [Illustration: ISMAEN ABOU HATAB, TRUSTED OFFICER OF EMIN PASHA.] "The expedition is non-military--that is to say, its purpose is not to fight, destroy, or waste; its purpose is to save, to relieve distress, and to carry comfort. Emin Pasha may be a good man, a brave officer, and a gallant fellow, deserving of a strong effort of relief; but I decline to believe, and I have not been able to gather from any one in England an impression that his life, or the lives of the few hundreds under him, would overbalance the lives of thousands of natives, and the devastation of immense tracts of country which an expedition strictly military would naturally cause. The expedition is a mere powerful caravan, armed with rifles for the purpose of insuring the safe conduct of the ammunition to Emin Pasha, and for the more certain protection of this people during the retreat home. But it also has means of purchasing the friendship of tribes and chiefs, of buying food, and paying its way liberally." [Illustration: VILLAGE IN THE VALLEY OF THE BENGO.] The point where he expects to meet Emin Pasha is purposely kept secret, but it will probably be at the southern end of Lake Albert, unless King Mwanga threatens trouble, in which case the march may be directed to Wadelay, on the White Nile. Stanley's fighting force, in case he is opposed by hostile natives, will consist of sixty Soudanese soldiers, in addition to the Zanzibaris, Somalis, and other east and west coast natives, enlisted in his expedition. When he went to Cairo he specially requested that a small force of Soudanese should be placed at his command. Volunteers were called for, and out of a large number who offered their services sixty picked men were chosen. These men are fine specimens of the soldiers who composed the larger part of the force with which Egypt held her Central African provinces. It was of such soldiers as these that Emin Pasha wrote these words last year: "Deprived of the most necessary things, for a long time without any pay, my men fought valiantly, and when at last hunger weakened them, when, after nineteen days of incredible privations and sufferings, their strength was exhausted, and when the last torn leather of the last boot had been eaten, then they cut a way through the midst of their enemies and succeeded in saving themselves. If ever I had any doubts of the negro, the history of the siege of Amadi would have proved to me that the black race is in valor and courage inferior to no other, while in devotion and self-denial it is superior to many. Without any orders from capable officers, these men performed miracles, and it will be very difficult for the Egyptian government worthily to show its gratitude to my soldiers and officers." [Illustration: A TRAVELLER'S CARAVAN NEAR WADELAY.] On the long march between Stanley Falls and Lake Albert, or Wadelay, these soldiers will perform guard and police duty for the expedition, and will defend it if attacked. Stanley also carries a machine-gun of the Maxim pattern, which was specially constructed so as to be carried by porters. If the explorer has occasion to show the natives that the gun will fire six hundred shots a minute, and that it will kill a hippopotamus or sink a canoe at a distance of a mile, he thinks the weapon will acquire a prestige which will make the savage glad to renounce any idea of attempting to impede his party with their poor spears and arrows. Lieutenant Stairns, an officer in the Engineer Corps of the British army, who accompanies Stanley, has special charge of the Maxim gun. [Illustration: A DYOOR, SUBJECT OF EMIN PASHA.] Two members of Stanley's party, who have been among King Leopold's agents on the Congo, went directly from Liverpool to the Congo for the purpose of hiring about three hundred porters to assist in transporting the goods around the Livingstone cataract to Stanley Pool, where the Upper Congo fleet was ordered to be in readiness to receive the expedition. Mr. Stanley estimates that his progress on the land march will not be greater than six to ten miles a day. The expedition reached Banana Point, at the mouth of the Congo, on the 18th of March, and on the same day re-embarked on vessels belonging to the International Association, which were awaiting the expedition. On the 19th the expedition anchored at Boma, the seat of the general administration of the Congo Free State, and a cordial reception was given the whole body. Mr. Stanley was confident of the success of his enterprise, and hoped that by June or July he would be able to render effectual assistance to Emin Pasha. The Congo Association had arranged to victual the expedition from Matada to Leopoldville. The expedition left Boma on March 21, arrived at Matada on the 22d, and there disembarked, the river being unnavigable thence to Leopoldville, on account of the Livingstone Falls. The expedition was to proceed on foot for eighteen days along the falls to Leopoldville, where Mr. Stanley was to be met by four steamers belonging to the Congo State. The English and French mission stations of the Upper Congo had also been requested to place their steamers at his service. Mr. Stanley's plans for a railway around the Livingstone Falls, on the Lower Congo, have aroused the Portuguese, who fear the effects of the new line of commerce. They have begun the construction of a railway from San Paulo de Loanda up the valley of the Bengo River to Ambaca, a distance of about two hundred and fifty miles. English and American engineers are in charge of the work, and they hope to complete the line in about three years. The railway can hardly be called a rival of Mr. Stanley's, as it is a long way south of the Congo, and its principal uses will be to preserve the local trade which centres at Ambaca, and prevent its diversion to the stations of the Congo State. The surveys for the Congo railway are in progress while these pages are in the printer's hands. [Illustration: CHIEF OF COAST TRIBE IN PORTUGUESE TERRITORY.] CHAPTER XX. MORE AFRICAN STUDIES.--MASAI LAND.--EARLY HISTORY OF THE MOMBASA COAST.--MOUNT KILIMANJARO.--ITS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS.--REBMANN'S UMBRELLA.--THOMSON'S EXPEDITION AND ITS OBJECT.--FRERE TOWN AND MOMBASA.--JOURNEY TO MASAI LAND.--HOSTILITY OF THE NATIVES.--NARROW ESCAPES.--MASAI WARRIORS AND THEIR OCCUPATIONS.--MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE PEOPLE.--THOMSON AS A MAGICIAN.--JOHNSTON'S KILIMANJARO EXPEDITION.--HEIGHT AND PECULIARITIES OF THE GREAT MOUNTAIN.--MANDARA AND HIS COURT.--SLAVE-TRADING.--MASAI WOMEN.--SURROUNDED BY LIONS.--BISHOP HANNINGTON.--STORY OF HIS DEATH IN UGANDA. It was mentioned in the first chapter of this volume that Frank and Fred had provided themselves with a parcel of books which were to constitute the reading-matter for the voyage, "Through the Dark Continent" being of the number. Transatlantic travellers generally carry four or five times as many books as they can possibly read during their transit over the ocean, and our young friends were no exceptions to the rule. They were so absorbed with the readings which have just been described, and the presence of Mr. Stanley on the steamer, that they gave little attention to books other than the interesting volume under consideration. [Illustration: TATTOOING AMONG THE COAST NATIVES.] But they were not to be thwarted in their determination to inform themselves about Africa, and, after the voyage was over, devoted all the time they could spare to the perusal of the books which had been left unopened during the voyage. Frank busied himself with "Through Masai Land," a journey of exploration among the snow-clad volcanic mountains and strange tribes of eastern equatorial Africa, while Fred perused the life of Bishop Hannington and the account of his mission to the people of Uganda. As for Doctor Bronson, he contented himself with keeping an eye on the progress of the youths in their readings and in turning the leaves of "The Kilimanjaro Expedition," a volume which describes the work of an expedition of the Royal Geographical Society for the study of the region around Mount Kilimanjaro in eastern Africa, between the Indian Ocean and the Victoria Nyanza. [Illustration: DOORWAY OF A HOUSE AT MOMBASA.] "What can you tell us about Masai Land?" said the Doctor to Frank, one morning while they were at breakfast. "It's a remarkable country," was the reply, "and though one of the parts of Africa earliest known to travellers, so far as its coast is concerned, it was one of the latest to be explored. The routes from Zanzibar to Lakes Tanganika, Victoria, and Nyassa, and the Zambezi country are now pretty well known and almost as familiar to the reading public as the road from London to Brighton, but Masai Land was until very recently practically unknown." "Please tell us exactly where Masai Land is," said the doctor, "so that we shall know what you are describing." "It is that part of Africa east of the Victoria Nyanza," was the reply, "and of a line drawn through that lake perhaps a hundred miles each way north and south of it. Vasco di Gama, who first sailed around the Cape of Good Hope, landed on the coast of this region and was near being wrecked on the reefs of Mombasa, which is its principal port. The place is mentioned in a Portuguese book published in 1530, and a curious fact is that there was even at that early date a rumor of the existence of the snow-clad mountains that were never seen by a white man until 1848. In fact, from the time of Vasco di Gama down to 1842 hardly anything was added to our knowledge of that part of the world." "Are you sure about the mention of the high mountains in that Portuguese book?" "Entirely so," was the reply. "Mr. Thomson, the author of 'Through Masai Land,' quotes from it as follows: 'West of Mombasa is the Mount Olympus of Ethiopia, which is exceedingly high, and beyond it are the Mountains of the Moon, in which are the sources of the Nile.' The Mount Olympus which is thus mentioned is quite likely Kilimanjaro; the Mountains of the Moon are not yet easy to locate, as they have not thus far been found by explorers. They may possibly exist in some of the hitherto untraversed regions on the southern borders of Abyssinia." Fred wished to know who was the first white man to find the snow-clad mountains of Central Africa. "A German missionary named Krapf came to Mombasa in 1842 in search of a way to open Eastern Africa to Christianity. He began studying the tribes and people in the neighborhood, and was aided in that work by his colleague, Mr. Rebmann. In 1847 the latter, accompanied by only eight men, made an expedition from the coast as far as the desert region beyond the rich littoral belt, and reached the broken country in the direction of Kilimanjaro. In 1848 he made another journey and for the first time saw the famous mountain, though he was compelled to turn back when still forty miles from its summit. The good man was accompanied by only nine porters, and his only weapon was an umbrella." "Only an umbrella!" exclaimed Fred, in astonishment. "Yes, only an umbrella, as he thought it quite enough for a peace-loving missionary to carry. But he seems to have changed his mind later on, as we find him arming his porters with guns and increasing their numbers, though he still adhered to the old weapon of his first trip. In one part of his journal, on his third expedition, he says: 'It often rained the livelong night, with myself and people lying in the open air without any other shelter than my solitary umbrella.' But it is noticeable that as soon as he began to arm his men he got into trouble, as his third expedition was robbed of everything it possessed and Rebmann was forced to retreat in great distress to the coast. [Illustration: HEADS OF COAST NATIVES.] "This is the last we hear of Rebmann in exploration," continued Frank, "but his work was followed up by his companion, Dr. Krapf. The latter started in 1851 to found a mission in the interior, but was driven back with a narrow escape from death. He tells how at one time he was attacked by robbers who did not stop at the gunshots fired at them. They pressed on and on, and finally, when the situation was becoming desperate, the doctor opened his umbrella, which so frightened the scoundrels that they fled in terror. "Several explorers, missionaries, and others penetrated into the country as far as Kilimanjaro, but rarely beyond it, in the thirty years following 1851, and each of them found the journey more difficult than had been the case with his predecessor, on account of the hostility of the natives and the Arab traders. In 1882 the Royal Geographical Society sent an expedition under command of Mr. Joseph Thomson, who had recently returned from Central Africa, where he had made some extensive explorations. The object of the expedition was purely geographical, Mr. Thomson being instructed to ascertain if a practicable direct route for European travellers could be found from any one of the ports of East Africa to Lake Victoria, to examine Mount Kenia, to gather all possible data for a map of the region, and obtain general information concerning the country and its character, people, animal and vegetable life. The story of what he did on this expedition is told in 'Through Masai Land.'" "Of course he went first to Zanzibar," said Fred; "that seems to be the starting-point for nearly every expedition for exploring Eastern Africa." [Illustration: VIEW OF MOMBASA.] "Yes," was the reply, "he not only went first to Zanzibar, but he outfitted his expedition at that point and hired most of his porters among the Zanzibaris. Then he went up the coast to Mombasa, which he made his starting-point for the land journey; he took a few of the coast natives from Mombasa as porters, but did not find them as satisfactory as the Zanzibaris. Among the head men that he engaged for his expedition were several who had served with Stanley in his journey across the continent, including Manwa Sera and Kachéché, the detective. He was greatly disappointed with the former, as he proved altogether lazy and indifferent to his duties; he prided himself so much on his service with Stanley that he regarded himself as a purely ornamental personage while with Mr. Thomson. Kachéché was somewhat better, and as chief of the commissary department he did very well. Mr. Thomson's chief assistant was a Maltese sailor named James Martin, who was unable to read or write, but he had a liberal amount of common-sense that served him in place of education. During the whole journey there was never a single unpleasantness between Mr. Thomson and Martin, which is an exceedingly rare thing in African travel." "How did they go from Zanzibar to Mombasa?" Fred inquired. "They went in Arab dhows," Frank answered, "and had a very uncomfortable voyage. But as the distance is only one hundred and twenty miles, or two degrees of latitude, it did not last long, and the whole party was landed safely. Mombasa is on an island; on the other side of the creek which separates it from the mainland is a settlement known as Frere Town." "I've read about that place," said Fred. "It was founded in accordance with a suggestion of Sir Bartle Frere, when he went to Zanzibar in 1873 to try to suppress the slave-trade. The Church Missionary Society of England supplied the money, and the station was established and put in charge of several missionaries. Liberated slaves taken by British cruisers along the coast were sent to Frere Town, and in less than a year after the settlement was made not less than five hundred had been sent there. The natives of the neighborhood were attracted to the place, the population increased, and Frere Town may now be considered the principal station of the Church Missionary Society in Africa. At least that's what I've read in the life of Bishop Hannington." "You're quite right," said Frank, "and Mr. Thomson received more help from the missionaries in setting out for Masai Land than he did from the Arab authorities of Zanzibar. Several of the men that he hired at Zanzibar had failed to appear when the expedition started, and he managed to fill their places with men from Frere Town. In addition to his assistant, head men, cooks, and personal attendants, he had one hundred and thirteen porters laden with the goods and belongings of the expedition. Twenty-nine carried beads, thirty-four iron, brass, and copper wire, fourteen cloth, fifteen personal stores, nine books, boots, etc., six scientific instruments, photographic apparatus and the like, and ten were laden with tents and tent furniture, cooking utensils, and articles for the table. Then there were ten Askari, or soldiers, and several boys who were expected to be useful in various ways. "He had the usual trouble with his porters for the first few days on the road, and his soldiers were very busy hunting up deserters and keeping the lines in order. The men engaged at Mombasa and Frere Town were worse than the Zanzibaris, the latter being more accustomed to this kind of work, and besides they were already a good distance from home. Every morning the bugle was sounded and the procession started, the English flag being carried in front to denote its nationality to all whom they might meet on the way. At night the camp was made in open ground, where no one could leave without being seen, and the guards had orders to shoot any one who should try to get away. These orders were given in a loud voice in the hearing of all the porters, with the object of frightening them rather than with any intention of killing them. The order had a good effect, and the men were kept under control." "I can't understand how it is," said Fred, "that men will engage to go on an expedition and then run away from it at the first chance. Of course I know there are timid persons who are brave at a distance and cowardly when danger is near, but this wholesale desire to desert I cannot comprehend." [Illustration: CAMP OF AN ENGLISH EXPLORER IN AFRICA.] "Evidently that is peculiar of Africans more than of any other people," the youth replied, "since all explorers tell the same story. You remember how it was with Mr. Stanley, both when he left Zanzibar and later when he started from Ujiji and Nyangwé. In the first place many scoundrelly fellows enlist solely to get the advance pay and not with any intention of keeping their agreement. Then, secondly, all sorts of wild stories are told by the natives of the towns and villages through which a caravan passes, or where it stops for a day or two, so that the fears of the ignorant men are wrought upon. In Mr. Thomson's case the people at Mombasa and Frere Town filled the heads of his porters with the most horrible stories of the cruelties of the inhabitants of Masai Land, and said they were going to certain death. This alarmed them very greatly, and even a white man would have had good reason to hesitate. It is a fact that most of the Arab caravans that had ventured into the interior for the ten years previous to this expedition had met with disaster; all of them had lost men or been robbed of at least a portion of their goods, and one caravan lost no less than one hundred men, or one third its entire strength. "Mr. Thomson found that the Masai warriors came quite near the coast in their marauding expeditions, and several of the Wa-kamba villages in the region back of Frere Town had been plundered. The Wa-kamba people have large herds of cattle, goats, and sheep; they drive these herds into zeribas or stockades, at night, to prevent their capture, in raids by the Masai. The stories of these raids continued to alarm Mr. Thomson's porters, and, in spite of all his watchfulness, two of his men managed to get away. The attempts at desertion were effectually stopped by the circulation of a report that the Masai had occupied the road in the rear, so that all stragglers and deserters would meet certain death. From that time forward the men were kept in their places through fear of being massacred, if once out of protection of the fighting-men of the expedition." Frank paused a few moments, and gave Fred an opportunity for another question. "You remarked," said Fred, "that the early explorers of the country in the direction of Mount Kilimanjaro met with little opposition, Rebmann being accompanied by only eight porters and weaponed with an umbrella. How does it happen that later travellers have found the country so much more difficult of access?" [Illustration: SLAVE CARAVANS ON THE ROAD.] "I forgot to explain that part of it," was the reply. "When Rebmann and Krapf made their journeys the Arabs had not penetrated the country with their slave-hunting expeditions, and consequently the people had not been called to practise the art of war. In the last thirty years the Arabs have pushed far into the interior of Masai Land, just as they have pushed beyond Lake Tanganika and down the valley of the Congo. They have made war upon the natives, burning their villages, devastating their fields, killing those who opposed them and carrying their captives into slavery. The terrible scenes described by Dr. Livingstone, in the accounts of his work and travels, have been repeated over and over again in the region which has Mombasa for its seaport, and thousands of slaves have been shipped from that place to points where they could find a market. The English cruisers along the coast keep a sharp watch for the Arab slave-dhows, and when any slaves are liberated they are taken to Frere Town, as you already know." "The Arabs set the various tribes to warring against each other," said the Doctor, who had been a listener to the colloquy between the youths, "and were always ready to buy prisoners no matter from which side they were taken. It was estimated that for every slave that reached a market, at least four persons were killed or perished in one way or another. Many were killed in the attacks upon the villages, many of those who escaped captivity perished of hunger in the forest or deserts where they fled for refuge, and of those carried away as slaves, not half ever reached the coast. They died on the road, of hunger or fatigue, or were killed by their owners in consequence of their inability to travel." "Did the Arabs sometimes leave the weak and sickly ones by the roadside, when they were unable to keep up with the caravans, or did they always kill them?" Fred inquired. "Sometimes they left them to die or recover, as best they might, and Dr. Livingstone tells how he saw groups of dying people with slave-yokes about their necks, near the road where he travelled. Some of the slave-traders were tender-hearted enough not to take life wantonly, but this was not always the case. Those who looked upon the dreadful traffic purely in the light of business made it a rule to kill every slave who could not keep up with the caravan. They did so not from any special delight in the killing, but because it spurred the survivors on to endure the hardships of the march, and never to yield as long as there was power to drag one foot before the other. Sometimes they tied the unfortunate ones to trees and left them to perish; Dr. Livingstone came frequently upon instances of this barbarity of the Arab slave-dealers." [Illustration: SLAVES LEFT TO DIE.] "The people had thus a double incentive to learn how to make war," the Doctor continued, "as soon as the Arabs began to come among them. They endeavored to capture each other, as a matter of gain, and then they wanted to defend their homes and themselves. They became very jealous of the advent of strangers, and thus it came about that travellers needed much larger escorts than formerly. Strange to say, they had no particular desire to stop the slave-trade, and they readily listened to the Arabs, who told them that the presence of Englishmen in the country would interfere with the traffic. Of course the weak and small tribes suffered most by the Arab devastation; the strong tribes found the slave-trade profitable, and thus all the influence was in favor of its continuance. Along the coast towns of Africa, and in the interior districts, you will find many a chief who mourns the day when the foreigners put a stop to the slave-trade, and thus interfered with an industry which he had found profitable. "And now," he remarked, "we will return to Mr. Thomson and his journey into Masai Land. Frank has the floor." Thus appealed to, Frank went on with his story. "After passing the fertile belt along the coast, the expedition entered a desert region where the sun was so hot, shade so scanty, and water so scarce, that it was necessary to make all the marches during the night. The men suffered terribly from thirst, as the most of them, with characteristic African improvidence, drank up in an hour or so the supply of water which had been intended for two days. One night Mr. Thomson started out to find water, as his people were in a desperate condition. He found no water, but lost his way and was unable to return to camp. He says it was the first time he was ever lost in the desert; a feeling of awe took possession of him and he saw lions in every bush. Very soon he heard the roar of a lion, and then his sensations were exceedingly uncomfortable. He wandered aimlessly about; he fired his gun repeatedly, but heard no response. At last he was about to lie down, in despair, when he heard the sound of a gun to which he responded with his last remaining cartridge. Following the direction whence the sound came, he met a search-party that had gone to find him. When he reached camp he had been eighteen hours on his feet, without food and with very little water." "And what did his people do without water?" Fred inquired. "Water was found the next day," Frank explained, "but not until some of the men had so broken down that they could not go farther, and it was necessary to send water to revive them. After passing the desert belt they entered a mountain region, where water was abundant and the natives were friendly. It is the region of the Wa-teita, and consists of a series of slopes around the Ndara Mountain. The Wa-teita have herds of cattle, sheep, and goats, they raise Indian corn, sugar-cane, bananas, sweet potatoes, and similar articles, and have been able to resist the attacks of the Masai, chiefly through the security of their position and their skill in the use of the bow and arrow. The Church Missionary Society has a station among this people, and the natives appear to take kindly to his instruction. [Illustration: A SPRING IN THE DESERT.] "Mr. Thomson gives an interesting account of the Wa-teita women, who anoint themselves with oil, from head to foot, and would consider their toilet incomplete without it. They pull out their eyelashes and eyebrows, file their teeth into points, and then cover their necks with string upon string of beads, so that they can hardly turn their heads. On neck, shoulders, and waist, a belle of the Wa-teita carries from twenty to thirty pounds' weight of beads, and it is needless to say that beads are an important article of commerce among the traders who go from the coast to that country. "When a man of the Wa-teita wishes to marry he arranges the preliminaries with the girl's father, and agrees to pay a certain number of cows. As soon as the bargain is completed the girl runs away, and hides among distant relatives until such time as her betrothed can find her hiding-place, and catch her. Then he engages some of his friends, who carry her home on their shoulders, with a great deal of singing and dancing. When they reach home the bridal couple are shut up in their house for three days, without food; at the end of that time the bride is carried to her father's house by a party of girls, and after a while returns to the home of her husband and the ceremonies are over. [Illustration: A WEDDING-DANCE.] "Leaving this region, the expedition passed through a belt of forest, and came, at length, near the base of Mount Kilimanjaro, the famous Mount Olympus of Africa, already mentioned. Perhaps Doctor Bronson will tell us something about it, as he has been reading Mr. Johnston's book, describing the exploration to it." "A very interesting book it is, though less so to the general reader than to the scientific one. Mr. Johnston is, as you know, a naturalist, and the principal part of the book is devoted to his special line of study. The English Royal Geographical Society paid the expenses of the expedition, and instructed Mr. Johnston to reside in the vicinity of the mountain for at least six months, and make collections of the floral, animal, and other products of the region, as close to the snow-line as was conveniently possible." "From that I suppose that the mountain is capped with snow," Fred remarked, as the doctor paused a moment. "Yes," was the reply, "Kilimanjaro has an elevation of 18,880 feet, and is covered with snow throughout the year. The mountain has two peaks; Kibo, the higher of these peaks, has the elevation I mentioned, while the other--Kimawenzi--attains an altitude of 16,250 feet. These peaks are in the centre of a mass of surrounding mountains, but none of the others reach above the snow-line. Both Kibo and Kimawenzi are the craters of extinct volcanoes, and the whole region round about was evidently thrown up by volcanic or earthquake action, ages and ages ago. In a direct line the great mountain is about one hundred and seventy-five miles from the coast, but by the tortuous lines of African travel the distance is considerably more than two hundred miles. "Mr. Johnston arrived in Zanzibar on his way to Kilimanjaro in April, 1884, and after some delay in outfitting his expedition took the route by way of Mombasa. His troubles with porters and natives were similar to those of Mr. Thomson, so that a repetition of his story is unnecessary. He relates that on several occasions his camp was surrounded with lions at night, and though the brutes did no damage, they kept up a tremendous roaring which effectually prevented all sleeping. One night the roar was continuous, and the voices of no less than ten of these animals were counted; on the next morning the tracks in the soft earth around the camp indicated that a whole troop of lions had been present. Mr. Johnston noticed that whenever a lion was approaching the camp, and before he had given warning of his presence by a roar, the birds in the trees set up a nervous twittering. The approach of other wild beasts at night was notified in the same way. "The slopes of Kilimanjaro between the elevations of three thousand and seven thousand feet are occupied by an agricultural people; their chief is called Mandara and the name of the country is Chaga. Through his intimacy with the Arab slave-dealers Mandara had become avaricious, and exacted a heavy tribute from Mr. Johnston, as he had from previous visitors. The explorer described the monarch as about five feet eleven inches in height, of dignified bearing and fine figure. He looked more like a North American Indian than a native-born African, as his cheek-bones were high and his nose hooked, while his mouth was broad and thin-lipped and his chin rounded and resolute. The lobes of his ears had been bored and distended so that each contained a ring of wood three or four inches in diameter. The custom of boring the ears and subsequently distending them prevails in Chaga, and very often the distended lobe almost touches the shoulder of its owner. "Mr. Johnston purchased a site for his plantation after some bargaining, and then settled down to work. Mandara presented the stranger with a cow and some goats and sheep, the Zanzibari porters built houses, a kitchen garden was started with a great variety of seeds of the tropical and temperate zones, and before a week had passed the explorer was eating a salad of his own growing. At first he was greatly annoyed by the attendants of Mandara's court, who came daily to him on begging excursions. He suspected that they were sent by the chief, but assumed in an interview with that dignitary that such was not the case. By a little diplomacy he managed to win the monarch's favor, at least for a time, and compel his annoyers to stay away. [Illustration: MANDARA'S LEFT EAR.] "He found the nights cool at the elevation where his plantation was situated; at daylight the temperature was a little above fifty degrees, but it rose steadily with the sun as the day advanced. The air was pure and dry, and Mr. Johnston says that but for the occasional troubles with his neighbors the life on the mountain slope would have been delightful. On certain days the natives held markets, at which he bought various supplies for his people; he rarely did any purchasing himself, but left the business to his head men, as the natives invariably sought to cheat him in bargaining. "Mr. Johnston had brought two men from Zanzibar to assist him in collecting birds and plants, but they proved of no use, and had to be discharged and sent back to the coast. Consequently all the labor of collecting fell upon himself, and he was very actively employed during every day of his stay in Chaga. He had a great deal of trouble with Mandara, who begged constantly for anything he wanted, and would have soon reduced his visitor to a condition of beggary. At one time he cut off all supplies of food, forbidding his people to sell anything to the strangers, and placing a cordon of fighting-men around Mr. Johnston's settlement to make sure that his orders were obeyed. He finally became so troublesome that the explorer moved his camp to another district, where the chief was more amiable, though not less inclined to beg." [Illustration: A CORNER OR MR. JOHNSTON'S SETTLEMENT.] "Did he get to the summit of the mountain?" one of the youths inquired. "No," said the Doctor, "he was unable to ascend to the top, but on two occasions he reached the snow-line, at a height of 16,315 feet, which was higher than any of the natives had ever been. As the height by survey is estimated at 18,880 feet, he was within about twenty-five hundred feet of the desired point. Vegetation ends at 15,000 feet, and from that point to the snow-line the mountain consists of large boulders, broken rocks, and sand. Mr. Johnston says the ascent as far as he went is quite easy when compared with that of other great mountains of the world, but he was not properly equipped for the effort, and his men were unwilling to tempt the demons that are supposed to occupy the peak. He was bitterly disappointed at his inability to gaze into the extinct crater of Kilimanjaro, and was obliged to leave that honor for some future traveller. "By the end of six months in the country around the great mountain he was out of funds, and, as money is needed for living in Africa quite as much as in any other part of the world, he was obliged to return to Zanzibar. On the road to the coast he encountered a band of the dreaded Masai warriors, and for a short time was in great danger of an attack. How he prevented it is best told in his own words: "They called on two or three of our men to advance and confer with them, so Kiongwé, Ibrahim, and Bakari went. After asking various questions as to who I was, where I came from, and whither I was going, the Masai leader inquired, 'Had we any sickness?' This query aroused a happy but sadly unveracious thought in my mind. 'Tell him,' I said to Kiongwé, in Swahili, a language the Masai do not understand, 'tell him we have small-pox.' Kiongwé grasped the idea and said to the Masai captain, with well-feigned vexation, 'Yes, we have a man suffering from the white disease' (the Masai name for small-pox). 'Show him,' the leader replied, at the same time moving several yards off. I immediately dragged forward an Albino, who was a porter in my caravan--a wretched pink-and-white creature, with tow-colored hair and mottled skin. The Masai at once exclaimed, 'Oh, this is a bad disease--look! it has turned the poor man white!' Then he shouted out that he had no wish to interfere with us, nor would they take anything from our infected goods. One concession alone they asked, and this we readily granted, which was that we would not follow too closely on their footsteps lest they might get our 'wind' and catch the disease. And with this they turned around, rejoined their fellows, called up their herd of cows and donkeys, and slowly wended their way up the hilly path. In half an hour's time the last Masai had disappeared, and we saw no more of them." "And now," remarked the Doctor, "as we have seen Mr. Johnston safely on his return from the exploration of Kilimanjaro and the ascent of that famous mountain, let us return to Mr. Thomson and his journey to Masai Land." Under this hint Frank proceeded: [Illustration: VIEW OF KILIMANJARO.] "We left Mr. Thomson among the Wa-teita people near the base of Mount Kilimanjaro," said the youth, "and from there he went to Chaga and to the court of the chief Mandara. Very unwisely he showed his property to Mandara, who immediately coveted nearly everything, and managed to squeeze out a great deal by way of tribute. The explorer did not tarry long with this exacting ruler, but pushed on as speedily as possible in the direction of the Masai. On the threshold of their country he met a band of warriors and, somewhat to his surprise, was hospitably received, though not until he had gone through an elaborate ceremony by which he and the chief of the band were made blood brothers. The amount of tribute he was to pay was then negotiated, and, unhappily for him, it proved very heavy. "The good feeling only lasted a short time, as the news was received that a German expedition which had entered the country a few days before had had a fight with the Masai, and blood had been shed on both sides. The whole country rose in arms against the Englishman, and he was forced to retreat across the border. In the middle of the night he left his camp, his men moving in perfect silence and very fearful lest one of their donkeys should bray and thus show that the caravan was stealing away. Fortunately the animals followed the silent example of their masters, and the retreat was safely accomplished. [Illustration: CAMP SCENE.] "Leaving his men in camp in a safe place, Mr. Thomson returned to the coast to obtain a fresh stock of goods with which to attempt again a journey through Masai Land. On his return he had the good-fortune to find a large caravan belonging to some coast traders who were going in his direction, and after a little negotiation he arranged to join his forces with theirs. Thus he was comparatively secure from danger of attack by the Masai, but on the other hand his movements were dependent on those of the traders, who are never in a hurry as long as there is anything to be made by remaining in camp. On such occasions he devoted himself to hunting, and as the country abounded in game he found enough to do. Elephants, zebras, several varieties of antelopes, lions, leopards, and smaller game fell before his rifle, together with several rhinoceroses and buffaloes. He emphatically avows that he shot these animals only for food and not for the mere sport of killing. The meat thus obtained frequently kept his camp supplied for days and days together. "Mr. Thomson," Fred continued, "is enthusiastic in his description of the Masai warriors whom he first encountered. The elders of the tribe came fearlessly into camp notwithstanding that in the previous year they had attacked nearly every caravan that entered the country, and on one occasion stabbed about forty porters without the least provocation. He says they were magnificent specimens of their race, considerably over six feet in height, and with an aristocratic dignity that filled the Englishman with admiration. They referred to the attacks upon the caravans as the most trivial circumstances, and said it was only because the young warriors wanted to taste blood just to keep themselves in practice. Their language was equivalent to the old adage that 'boys will be boys, and their wild oats must be sown.' The debate ended peacefully and, luckily for the strangers, nearly all the fighting-men were at that time away on a cattle-stealing expedition. "The Masai people had a great horror of being photographed, as they supposed the camera was a bewitching machine which would work them great harm. Mr. Thomson came near getting into trouble by shooting a marabout stork which he saw near the camp. It seems that storks and adjutants are looked upon as sacred; as they, along with the hyenas, are the grave-diggers, or rather the graves of the Masai. These people do not bury or burn their dead, but simply throw out the corpses to be devoured, in much the same way as the Parsees of Bombay carry their dead to the Towers of Silence on Malabar Hill to be eaten by vultures. "The hunting was so good in the neighborhood of this camp that in one day our friend 'bagged' four rhinoceroses, one giraffe, four zebras, and four antelopes, all within six hours. He saw the tracks of elephants and buffaloes, but did not kill any; though a hunter from the traders' camp managed to kill an elephant whose tusks weighed a little short of two hundred pounds. The Masai people proved to be inveterate thieves, and, in spite of the greatest precautions, not a day passed without the loss of more or less property which the light-fingered scoundrels managed to lay their hands on. Mr. Thomson was looked upon as a wonderful worker of magic, but even the respect that was due him as a magician did not prevent the people from stealing his goods. [Illustration: AFRICAN ADJUTANTS.] "On the road the Masai used to rush up to the caravan singly or in twos or threes and attempt to carry off the loads from the porters' heads; if they failed no effort was made to punish them; and if they succeeded they were not pursued to any great distance, as their friends would be sure to come to their rescue. At night the camp was surrounded by a stockade or a fence of thorns, and several times the Masai attempted to enter the stockades and stampede the animals belonging to the caravan. Hostile demonstrations were numerous, and escapes from fights exceedingly narrow. [Illustration: A WELL-STOCKED HUNTING-GROUND.] "At a convenient point on the road Mr. Thomson left the caravan temporarily, to make a flying trip to Mount Kenia with a selected party of his best men. He kept up his character of magician, and, by an ingenious ruse with his teeth (two of which were false), he carried conviction with his assertion. 'Come to me,' he said to one of the wondering warriors, 'and I will cut off your nose and put it on again. Just look at my teeth; see how firm they are,' and as he said so he tapped them with his knuckles. 'Now I turn my head and, see, the teeth are gone;' and the crowd shrank back in dismay and was on the point of seeking safety in flight. 'Hold on a moment,' said the white magician, and with another turn of the head he put the teeth in place and stood smiling before the petrified spectators. "He says his artificial teeth were perfect treasures to him, and doubtless to their aid he owed his safety. But he was obliged to keep up his exhibition so frequently that it soon became a nuisance. His man Martin pretended also to be a magician, and told one of the Masai women that he could cut off his finger and restore it immediately. As he extended the finger the woman suddenly seized it and half bit it off, which raised a howl from Martin, and caused him for the future to make no further boasts of his magical skill. [Illustration: PLAIN AND MOUNTAINS IN MASAI LAND.] "The expedition reached the foot of Mount Kenia, but all thought of ascending it had to be given up, as the Masai were very troublesome and food was scarce. The mountain is thought to be a little more than eighteen thousand feet high, and its summit is covered with snow. Like its great neighbor to the south, it is believed to be an extinct volcano. In fact, the proofs of its former character are clearly shown in beds of lava and frequent traces of volcanic action. Up to a height of fifteen thousand feet its slope is very gentle, but after that it rises in a sharp cone almost like a sugar-loaf, and would be exceedingly difficult of ascent. The slope of the peak is so steep that the snow slides off in places and reveals the rocks, and to this circumstance Kenia owes its Masai name of Donyo Egéré or 'Speckled Mountain.' "With various adventures and narrow escapes Mr. Thomson pushed his exploration to the shore of the Victoria Nyanza, which he reached about forty miles to the east of the outlet of the lake. Near the lake he found a people unlike the Masai, as they had a decidedly negro type of countenance. The Masai have very little to identify them with the negro, and Mr. Thomson says they can in no sense be called negroes. In their cranial development, as in their language, they are widely different from the natives of Central and Southern Africa, and occupy a far higher position in the scale of humanity. "The Masai people are divided into some ten or twelve tribes, and these tribes or clans have many smaller divisions. Some are more aristocratic than others, and there is hardly a time when two or more of them are not indulging in war. Some of these wars have resulted in the almost complete destruction of the defeated tribes, and the expulsion of the remnant from the country; the defeated ones becoming peaceful and orderly, and the victors more insolent than ever. The boys in all the fighting tribes are trained to war; they live apart from the families and are under the control of a leader who is elected by ballot, has the power of life and death over his subjects, settles disputes, and may be turned out of office whenever he becomes unpopular with the majority. "The clothing of a Masai boy consists of a coating of grease and clay rubbed over his skin. When he becomes old enough he is equipped with a bow and arrows with which he practises upon small animals, and occasionally upon his playmates. Great care is taken in the distension of the lobes of his ears, which are nursed as carefully as the budding mustache of more civilized lands. A slender stick is thrust through the lobe, then a larger one is inserted, and the process is continued until a piece of ivory six inches long can be inserted endwise. "When the boy blossoms into a warrior he is equipped with a spear having a blade thirty inches long, a short sword, and a knob-stick; the latter intended for throwing at an advancing enemy, or crushing the skull of a disabled one on the ground. All these weapons are made by an inferior tribe that lives in the land of the Masai, and is compelled to do their menial work; from another tribe of the same low grade the Masai purchase their shields, as they never make their own. The markings and adornments on a shield show to what tribe or clan its owner belongs. "When going to war a Masai removes the stretchers from his ears and substitutes a tassel of iron rings, or something of the sort; covers his shoulders with a mantle of kite's feathers; winds a strip of cotton about his neck, and allows it to wave behind him as he runs; places his sword and knob-stick in his belt; anoints his body with grease and clay; decorates his legs with streamers of the long hair of the colobus monkey, so that he suggests the Winged Mercury. On his head is a remarkable contrivance formed of ostrich feathers, stuck into a band of leather and fastened around the face in an elliptical shape. His armament is completed by his spear and shield, and thus arrayed he is ready for business, and a very troublesome fellow he is, according to all accounts. [Illustration: EAR-STRETCHERS AND EAR-ORNAMENTS.] "Making war, stealing cattle from other tribes, plundering caravans, and similar predatory performances make up the life of a Masai warrior. When a man marries he gives up fighting and settles down into domestic ways, and thus it happens that all the warriors in Masai land are single men. Mr. Thomson says the Masai women are the handsomest of their sex in all Africa; they are slender and graceful, and distinctly ladylike both in manner and physique. They are dressed in bullock's hides, from which the hair has been scraped; their heads are shaved smooth, and sometimes their faces are painted white." "I have read somewhere," said Fred, "that they wear great quantities of wire, the same as did the women of Chumbiri described by Mr. Stanley on the Congo." [Illustration: A MASAI WARRIOR.] "That is true," Frank replied, "and the amount of wire worn by the Masai women is something wonderful. Telegraph wire is coiled around the lower limbs from the knees to the ankles, and around the arms both above and below the elbow. Round the neck more wire is coiled; it is arranged in a horizontal shape, so that the head seems to be sticking up through an inverted platter. The wire is put on when the women are young and is never removed, consequently the limbs present a withered appearance, the legs being of a uniform size from the ankle to the knee. The weight of iron wire worn by a Masai woman varies from ten to thirty pounds; in addition to this, she carries great quantities of beads and iron chains around her neck. [Illustration: MASAI MARRIED WOMAN, WITH PAINTED FACE.] "It seems almost a wonder," Frank continued, "that Mr. Thomson with his small party was able to make his way safely through Masai Land and back to the coast, as he did." "Perhaps it is a greater wonder," said Fred, "that Bishop Hannington, whose life I have been reading, a man of the most amiable disposition, went through Masai Land unharmed, to meet his death at the hands of Mwanga, the King of Uganda." "How did it happen that he ventured there?" "Because," was the reply, "he had been once to Uganda by the same route that Mr. Stanley followed, and the bishop found that route very unhealthy, and became so ill that he was sent back before reaching Rubaga. When he started again for Uganda, in the early part of 1885, he decided upon going through Masai Land, as the route was much shorter and the country far less swampy and pestiferous. The only perils were from the terrible Masai; they repeatedly barred his way, and several times were on the point of attacking his caravan, but, by a determined but gentle bearing, he managed to prevent actual hostilities. Some of his property was stolen in spite of all watchfulness, but there was no bloodshed on either side. "When the caravan was within fifty miles of Lake Victoria and all danger was supposed to be passed, Bishop Hannington decided to leave the caravan in camp and proceed with fifty of his followers to the lake, whence he would send word to the king of his approach. When he was near the Ripon Falls of the Victoria Nile he was imprisoned by a band of armed men and kept a close prisoner in a hut until word could be sent to the king. After an imprisonment of eight days he was killed in compliance with the king's orders." "Why did the king wish to put him to death?" Frank inquired. "The king, who had but recently succeeded to the throne of his father Mtesa, was only eighteen years of age, and easily swayed by his councillors. The latter were afraid of the influence of the Europeans, as they foresaw the ultimate destruction of their power through the advent of the strangers; they worked upon the young king and aroused his jealousy, and easily persuaded him to take severe measures. The natives who had become converted to Christianity were put to death or otherwise maltreated, no less than thirty being bound together and placed on a pile of wood where they were burned alive on account of their religion. The missionaries were imprisoned, all teaching of religion was prohibited, and the prospect was gloomy. "The old king, Mtesa, was always opposed to the exploration of Masai Land, and did not like the idea of Europeans coming to his dominions from that direction. His son and all the councillors had the same feeling, and it is now known that when Mr. Thomson reached the shore of the lake by that route he was in greater danger than he had supposed. The chief of the region bordering the lake was severely reprimanded and removed from office because he failed to bind the white man and send him a prisoner to Rubaga. "Just as the bishop was approaching Uganda by the Masai route, news came to the king that the Germans had seized some ports on the east coast of Africa and were about to take possession of all the country up to the shores of Lake Victoria. This information created great alarm, as it foreboded an advance of the white men in that direction; while it was under discussion Bishop Hannington reached the shore of the lake, and notice of his arrival was sent to the king. "From the Ugandan point of view all white men were alike, and all were at that time dangerous to the liberties of the country. After a short deliberation with his councillors the king gave orders that the bishop should be put to death; he had advocated sending him back to the coast, but was easily persuaded to the severer course. "The manner of his death is thus told by his biographer: "He was conducted to an open space without the village, and found himself surrounded once more by his own men. With a wild shout the warriors fell upon his helpless caravan men, and their flashing spears soon covered the ground with the dead and dying. In that supreme moment we have the happiness of knowing that the bishop faced his destiny like a Christian and a man. As the soldiers told off to murder him closed round he made one last use of that commanding mien which never failed to secure for him the respect of the most savage. Drawing himself up he looked around, and as they momentarily hesitated with poised weapons he spoke a few words which graved themselves upon their memories and which they afterwards repeated just as they were heard. He bade them tell the king that he was about to die for the B-a-ganda, and that he had purchased the road to Buganda with his life. Then, as they still hesitated, he pointed to his own gun, which one of them discharged, and the great and noble spirit leaped forth from its broken house of clay and entered with exceeding joy into the presence of the King." [Illustration: UGANDA HEAD-DRESS.] "The death of Bishop Hannington and the imprisonment of the missionaries at the capital of Uganda has by no means stopped the work of the London mission societies," the Doctor remarked, as Fred concluded the reading of the foregoing quotation. "For a time it has been suspended in Uganda, but the effort at Christianizing Africa is being vigorously pushed elsewhere. New stations are being opened every year, and I have just read in a newspaper that a small steamboat will soon be placed on the Victoria Nyanza. It is to be called the _James Hannington_, in memory of the hero missionary, and will no doubt be of great use in bringing the people of Central Africa to a knowledge of the ways and works of civilization." [Illustration: PLACE WHERE BISHOP HANNINGTON WAS IMPRISONED AND KILLED.] CHAPTER XXI. STANLEY'S HUNTING ADVENTURES.--AFRICA THE FIELD FOR THE SPORTSMAN.--HUNTING IN SOUTH AFRICA.--NIGHT-SHOOTING AT WATER-HOLES AND SPRINGS.--ABUNDANCE OF GAME.--DANGER OF THIS KIND OF SPORT.--LIONS AND ELEPHANTS.--MAN-EATING LIONS.--IN THE JAWS OF A LION.--DR. LIVINGSTONE'S NARROW ESCAPE.--THE HOPO, OR GAME-TRAP ON A LARGE SCALE.--DU CHAILLU AND HIS ADVENTURES.--SHOOTING THE GORILLA.--RESEMBLANCE OF THE GORILLA TO MAN.--PRODIGIOUS STRENGTH OF THE GORILLA.--HOW HE IS HUNTED.--THE END. [Illustration: AFRICAN ORYX, OR GEMSBOK.] One day while our friends were discussing "Through the Dark Continent" and considering its admirable qualities as a book of travel, Frank remarked that there were few volumes of African exploration which had so little to say about hunting adventures. "I suppose the reason may be found," he continued, "in the fact that Mr. Stanley was too busy with his work of ascertaining the characteristics of the country and people to give time to hunting. Occasionally he shot game to supply his people with meat, but in telling the story of his few shooting experiences he is exceedingly brief." [Illustration: SOUTH AFRICAN HUNTING--IN CAMP.] "Not only was he greatly occupied with his work as an explorer," replied the Doctor, "but he had a positive aversion to shedding the blood of animals, not even excepting the noxious ones. If a lion came in his way or threatened the safety of his camp he was ready enough to shoot it, but he did not have the craving for slaughter that leads a man to tramp all day through a forest or over hills, or sit through the night in a desolate spot for the mere pleasure of taking a shot at anything that happens along. Many African explorers have more to say about their hunting experiences than anything else, and I have now in mind the book of an explorer who gives minute details concerning all the large animals that fell before his rifle, but has very little to say about the country and its inhabitants. "For the hunter in search of large game Africa is now the best field, but owing to the rapid increase in the number of hunters, the growing use of firearms by the natives, and the colonization of hitherto unsettled regions, the great animals are becoming shy and scarce. South Africa was and still is a favorite resort of sportsmen, but every year they must go farther and farther into the wilderness before finding what they seek." "How do they get up their hunting expeditions?" Fred asked. "The usual plan," replied the Doctor, "is to fit out one or two wagons with provisions, guns, ammunition, and trade goods for several months, and then strike into the wilderness away from all settlements. Two or three saddle-horses, together with donkeys, oxen, cows, and sheep, constitute the live-stock of the expedition. In Central Africa it would be impossible to travel with wagons, owing to the dense vegetation and the condition of the country, which is full of swamps and morasses, but in South Africa the circumstances are different. The country is not densely wooded, and in many parts it is absolutely treeless. Sometimes water is found there with difficulty, and every volume of hunting adventures in South Africa contains stories of the sufferings of men and animals through scarcity or absence of water. But this scarcity of water greatly facilitates the work of the hunter." "How is that?" "Where the springs and water-holes are far apart the wild animals must go long distances to drink, and if the hunter watches in their neighborhood he will have plenty of what he calls 'sport.' A favorite plan of these African hunters is to conceal themselves near a spring and shoot the elephants, lions, and other large beasts as they come for water." "That ought to be very easy," said one of the youths. "Not as easy as you might suppose," was the reply, "nor is it without danger. In the first place very few of the animals visit the springs in the daytime, their drinking being done at night. Furthermore, they choose the hours when there is no moon, and thus reduce the chance of being seen. In the moonless part of a month they come at any hour between darkness and daylight, but usually about midnight; on the nights when the moon shines they select the hours when it is below the horizon. Thus if the moon rises early they wait until it has set, and if it rises late they come to drink before it is above the horizon. One hunter says that if it had not been for this habit there is many a lion, rhinoceros, or elephant now roaming the forests of South Africa that would have fallen before his rifle. He says he has frequently heard a lion lapping the water within a dozen paces of him when the night was so dark that he could not get a sight of the brute." "Do all the wild animals of Africa observe this rule?" "None of them do so absolutely, and some are more observant of it than others. But all seem to know that there is danger near their drinking-places, and they conduct themselves accordingly. [Illustration: NIGHT HUNTING. ELEPHANTS COMING TO DRINK.] "A great deal depends upon the selection of the spot for concealment, and in making his selection the hunter has many things to think of. He must carefully observe the direction of the wind and make sure that it blows towards him from the places whence the animals approach the drinking-spot. Then, if possible, he must so station himself that elephants, giraffes, and other large animals will be outlined against the sky as they come within his range. He digs a pit three or four feet deep and surrounds it with brushwood so that the change of the ground is not likely to be noticed. Sometimes there is a convenient ant-hill close to the drinking-place, and if so this forms an excellent shooting-box, as the animals are familiar with its appearance and therefore are not likely to suspect that it conceals anything dangerous. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN SERENADE.] "One famous hunter, Andersson, gives it as his opinion that a night ambush beside an African pool, frequented by large animals, is worth all other modes of enjoying a gun put together. Other hunters express the same opinion, though some of them admit that it is a cruel sort of sport, as it takes the prey wholly unawares and with little chance for defence or escape. The peril of this sort of hunting is that sometimes an elephant, rhinoceros, or lion discovers whence came the shot that wounded him, and charges directly at the spot. In such a case the hunter in his pit is at a disadvantage, and his chief hope of safety is by a well-directed bullet when his assailant is within short range. Sometimes a wounded or frightened elephant runs straight to the spot, in his terror, and is liable to kill the hunter by tumbling upon him. There is one instance I have read of, wherein an elephant ran directly over the hunter, who was lying flat on the ground; the great feet of the animal grazed the head of his would-be slayer, but did not harm him. Had the elephant been less frightened he would have made short work of the man." "Is a lion more dangerous than an elephant in a case of this kind?" asked one of the youths. [Illustration: CLOSE SHAVE BY AN ELEPHANT.] "There is not much to choose between them," Doctor Bronson answered, "as both are to be dreaded, perhaps the lion more than the larger animal. Neither the lion nor the elephant will attack man without provocation, but when wounded they are very likely to turn upon their assailants. The courage of the lion has been greatly overrated in story-books, and also his noble conduct. The hunters who have made his intimate acquaintance, and written about him, say his characteristics are much like those of the hyena, and, like the latter beast, he is a skulking rather than an honorable foe. The female accompanied by her young is apt to be dangerous, but as for the male lion it can be set down as pretty certain that he will retire from danger if he has a chance to do so, even at the expense of his dignity." "Haven't I read of lions watching by the roadside and killing men and women without provocation?" said Fred. [Illustration: DEATH-GRAPPLE WITH A LION.] "Undoubtedly you have," was the reply. "The lions thus described are the dreaded man-eaters, who rank with the man-eating tigers of India. Having once tasted human flesh and learned how easily it is procured, they lie in wait by the roads and paths, and spring upon the unfortunates who come within their reach. A man-eating lion will pass through an entire herd of cattle to get at one of the herdsmen; his movements are as stealthy as those of the cat, and the victim never has the least warning of his enemy's approach. Very properly he is the subject of dread, and when a man-eater appears in the neighborhood of a settlement, large rewards are offered for his head. Sometimes there is an entire suspension of work and business until the man-eater has been killed or driven away. These man-eaters have been known to come into a camp, spring upon a man asleep by the side of his companions, drag him into the bushes, and deliberately kill and devour him under protection of the darkness. While the lion, under ordinary circumstances, is not an object of any especial dread on the part of hunters, all have a terror of the man-eater. "You never know, when you attack a lion, whether he will slink away or turn upon you; and every African hunter can tell stories of narrow escapes. As an illustration I will repeat one that was told to Mr. Andersson by the hero of it. "He had gone out with some of his friends in search of five lions that had broken into his cattle-enclosure the previous night. The lions were tracked to a thicket of reeds, which were set on fire, the hunters being stationed around the thicket to intercept the animals as they came out. One lion took the direction in which two of the hunters were stationed, one of them being the narrator of the story. "He fired, inflicting only a slight wound. Immediately the lion sprang upon him; he thrust his gun into the lion's mouth, but the weapon was demolished in an instant. 'At that moment,' said he, 'the other hunter fired and the lion fell with a broken shoulder, so that I was able to rise and scamper away. But the lion was not done with me; in spite of his crippled condition he came after me, and my foot catching in a creeper, I fell to the ground. He was upon me again, tearing my clothing with his claws and grazing the skin in his efforts to grasp my hip. He laid hold of my left wrist and crushed it, and he tore my right hand so that I was totally helpless. Just as he had done this my friend came up again, accompanied by his dog, which seized the lion by the leg and thus drew his attention from me. My friend watched his chance and fired at very close range; the ball crashed through the lion's skull and stretched him on the ground by my side.' The mutilated hunter was carried to camp, and eventually recovered from his wounds, but his left wrist was permanently crippled. "Doctor Livingstone was once in a similar peril," continued Doctor Bronson, as he opened the account of the famous missionary's travels and researches in South Africa. "Here is his account of the occurrence: "It is well known that if one of a troop of lions is killed the others take the hint and leave that part of the country. So, the next time the herds were attacked I went with the people in order to encourage them to rid themselves of the annoyance by destroying one of the marauders. We found the lions on a small hill, about a quarter of a mile in length and covered with trees. A circle of men was formed round it, and they gradually closed up, ascending pretty near each other. Being down below on the plain, with a native schoolmaster named Mebalwe, a most excellent man, I saw one of the lions sitting on a rock, within the now closed circle of men. Mebalwe fired at him before I could, and the ball struck the rock on which the animal was sitting. He bit at the spot struck, as a dog does at a stick or stone thrown at him; then, leaping away, broke through the opening circle and escaped unhurt. The men were afraid to attack him, perhaps on account of their belief in witchcraft. [Illustration: RHINOCEROS AND DOGS.] "When the circle was re-formed we saw two other lions in it; but we were afraid to fire lest we should strike the men, and they allowed the beasts to burst through also. Seeing we could not get the people to kill one of the lions we bent our steps towards the village; in going round the end of the hill, however, I saw one of the beasts sitting on a piece of rock as before, but he had a little bush in front. Being about thirty yards off, I took a good aim at his body, through the bush, and fired both barrels into it. The men then called out, 'He is shot! he is shot!' I saw the lion's tail erected in anger behind the bush, and, turning to the people, said, 'Stop a little, till I load again.' When in the act of ramming down the bullets I heard a shout. [Illustration: DR. LIVINGSTONE IN THE LION'S GRASP.] "Starting and looking half round, I saw the lion just in the act of springing upon me. I was upon a little height; he caught my shoulder as he sprang, and we both came to the ground below together. Growling horribly, he shook me as a terrier dog does a rat. The shock produced a stupor similar to that which seems to be felt by a mouse after the first shake of a cat. It caused a sort of dreaminess in which there was no sense of pain nor feeling of terror, though quite conscious of all that was happening. It was like what patients partially under the influence of chloroform describe, who see all the operation but feel not the knife. This singular condition was not the result of any mental process. The shake annihilated fear, and allowed no sense of horror in looking around at the beast. This peculiar state is probably produced in all animals killed by the carnivora; and, if so, it is a merciful provision by our benevolent Creator for lessening the pain of death. "Turning round to relieve myself of the weight, as he had one paw on the back of my head, I saw his eyes directed to Mebalwe, who was trying to shoot him at a distance of twelve or fifteen yards. His gun, a flint one, missed fire in both barrels; the lion immediately left me and, attacking Mebalwe, bit his thigh. Another man whose life I had saved before, after he had been tossed by a buffalo, attempted to spear the lion while he was biting Mebalwe. He left Mebalwe and caught this man by the shoulder, but at that moment the bullets he had received took effect, and he fell down dead. The whole was the work of a few moments, and must have been the paroxysms of his dying rage. Besides crushing the bone into splinters, he left eleven teeth wounds in the upper part of my arm." "Dr. Livingstone resembled Mr. Stanley in having no special fondness for hunting," continued Doctor Bronson, "and he has given us comparatively few hunting adventures in the record of his explorations. He gives an interesting account of the way the people of South Africa hunt game by driving, in the seasons when water is scarce and the wild animals congregate near the places where they can drink. They arrange two hedges in the shape of the letter V, each hedge being a mile or two in length and fully a mile across at the entrance. Then a large party of men go out quietly, and move so as to drive the game into the opening. The hedges are low at first, but as they approach each other they are increased in strength, so that the animals cannot break through them. The enclosure is called a 'hopo;' at its end there is a pit with a fall of six or eight feet from the end of the hopo, so that the animals which jump in cannot easily spring out again. Buffaloes, zebras, giraffes, hartebeests, gnus, antelopes, oryxes, and similar animals are caught in these pits; sometimes lions are driven in, but they can easily spring over the hedges, and no attempt is made to stop them." "That kind of hunting is not confined to South Africa, I believe," said Frank. [Illustration: THE HOPO, OR TRIP FOR DRIVING GAME.] "Not by any means," was the reply; "it is known over pretty nearly the whole world. It is used in India and Ceylon for trapping elephants, in Australia for capturing kangaroos, and in other parts of the world for other animals. Hunting by _battue_, or beating, is as old almost as man himself, and has been practised in all ages; the chief difference between the ordinary hunt by _battue_ and the capture of game in a hopo is that in the latter instance the game is caught in a pit or enclosure, while usually it is shot or otherwise killed as the lines of men are drawn closely together. In many hunts of this sort the use of firearms is forbidden on account of the danger of accidents, and where they are permitted it is generally the rule to fire towards the outside of the cordon of men and not towards the inside. [Illustration: PAUL DU CHAILLU IN AFRICA.] "One of the most famous hunters in Africa," said Doctor Bronson, after a pause, "was Paul du Chaillu, who has written several books, interesting alike to young and old. When he first published the account of his adventures his stories were received with incredulity, but as Africa has become better known the truth of his assertions has been made manifest. He was the first white man to hunt the gorilla, and probably the first who ever saw one of those animals. In the course of his explorations he travelled some eight thousand miles, nearly always on foot and unaccompanied by a white man. [Illustration: GORILLA HUNTING--MOTHER AND YOUNG AT PLAY.] "Nearly everywhere that he went he managed to get on friendly terms with the natives, who had not then been contaminated by contact with the Arab slave-hunters. Once his cook, whom he had brought from the coast, attempted to poison him, and with this object put two spoonfuls of arsenic in Du Chaillu's soup. The great overdose caused it to act as an emetic, and thus the explorer's life was saved. The cook fled to the woods when charged with the attempt to kill his master, but was caught by the natives and sentenced to death. Du Chaillu interfered and saved the fellow's life, and he was delivered in chains to the custody of his brothers, who came to intercede for him. "Du Chaillu tells of one tribe of natives on the African coast who choose their chief or king by election, and may therefore be called republicans. When a king dies his body is secretly buried, and there is mourning for six days. During this time the old men meet to choose a new king; the choice is made in private, and neither the people nor the new king are informed of the result until the morning of the seventh day. The information is kept from the man of their selection until the very last. "As soon as it is known who has been chosen the people surround him, pound him with their fists or with sticks, throw all sorts of disgusting objects at him, spit in his face, kick him, roll him on the ground, and otherwise maltreat and abuse him. Those who cannot get at him by reason of the crowd utter all sorts of uncomplimentary phrases, and they anathematize not only him but all his relatives in every generation. Du Chaillu thought the man's life was in real danger; but the secret of the whole business was shown by some of the men occasionally shouting out, 'You are not our king yet; for a little while we will do what we please with you. By and by we shall have to obey your will.' "He is expected to endure all this with a smiling face and to keep his temper throughout. When it has gone on for an hour or so he is taken to the old king's house, where he is seated, and for a little while receives a torrent of abuse, but this time it is entirely in words. Then all become silent, the elders rise and say, the people repeating after them: "'Now we choose you for our king; we engage to listen to you and to obey you.' "Then the emblems of royalty are brought out, and the ceremonies of coronation take place with the most profound dignity. The king is dressed in a red gown and receives every mark of respect from those who so lately abused him. After the coronation he must remain for six days in the house, and during all this period there are loud rejoicings, and all his subjects come to pay their respects. The old king was mourned for six days, and it is considered nothing more than proper that the new one should have six days of rejoicing. The fact is, the new one is pretty nearly half dead at the end of the festival, as he is obliged to receive all comers at any hour of day or night, and sit down and eat and drink with them. Doubtless he is thoroughly happy when the festival is over, and he can walk out and view his dominions. [Illustration: DU CHAILLU'S FIRST GORILLA.] "The explorer gives an interesting account of the gorilla, and his first meeting with the animal makes a dramatic scene in his story. He had just shot a snake, which his men devoured with delight, but our friend, though very hungry, could not venture upon this sort of food. Noticing some sugar-canes growing near, he proceeded to cut them, in order to suck the juice and satisfy the cravings of his appetite. [Illustration: HEAD OF KOOLOO-KAMBA.] "As he was cutting the canes, assisted by his men, the latter called his attention to several that had been broken down and chewed into fragments while others had been torn up by the roots. It was evidently the work of gorillas, and threw the whole party into a state of great excitement. The tracks in the soft earth showed that there were several gorillas in company, and immediately Du Chaillu proceeded to hunt them. [Illustration: EAR OF KOOLOO-KAMBA.] "He divided his men into two parties, one led by himself and the other by an attendant named Makinda. The animals were supposed to be behind a large rock, and the two parties moved so as to encircle it. Suddenly there was a cry which had a very human sound, and four young gorillas ran from the concealment of the rock towards the forest. He says they ran on their hind-legs and looked wonderfully like hairy men as they inclined their bodies forward, held their heads down, and to all appearances were like men running for their lives to escape from danger. Du Chaillu fired at them, but hit nothing, and the animals made good their escape. The party ran after them till all were out of breath and then returned to camp. He says he felt very much like a murderer, as the animals had so nearly the appearance of humanity. "Some days later he was more successful in hunting the gorilla. He was out with his party, when suddenly the sound of the breaking of a branch of a tree was heard. The natives intimated that they were near a gorilla, and very cautiously all proceeded; soon they came in sight of the huge beast breaking down the limbs and branches of the trees to get at the berries. They stood still, as he was moving in their direction, and in a little while he was right in front of them. He had moved through the jungle on all fours, but as he came in sight of the party he stood erect like a man. [Illustration: DU CHAILLU ASCENDING AN AFRICAN RIVER.] "Then he gave vent to a tremendous barking roar which is very difficult to describe, and beat his breasts with his huge fists till they resounded like drums. This is the gorilla's mode of offering defiance, roaring and beating the breast at the same time. The roar begins with a sharp bark, like that of an angry dog, then glides into a deep bass roll, which literally and closely resembles the roll of distant thunder, so that it is sometimes taken for it when the animal is not in sight. "The gorilla was about twelve yards from Du Chaillu when he first appeared; he advanced a few steps, then stopped and roared and beat his breasts again, then made another advance and stopped about six yards away. As he stopped a second time, Du Chaillu fired and killed him. The shot was well aimed, and death was almost instantaneous. Measurement showed that the animal was five feet eight inches in height, but when standing erect, at his first appearance, he seemed to be fully six feet. "During his wanderings in Africa Mr. Du Chaillu killed several gorillas, whose skins and skeletons he preserved and sent to England and America, where they attracted much attention in the scientific world. On two or three occasions he was fortunate enough to capture some young gorillas alive, but found it impossible to tame them. They showed the most furious temper and bit at everybody who came near them; at first they refused food, but after a while their hunger got the best of their obstinacy and they ate the berries and leaves that were gathered for them from their native forests. But all sickened and died, and I believe that no one has ever succeeded in taming one of these animals." "Was nothing known about the gorilla until Mr. Du Chaillu hunted him?" Fred asked, as Doctor Bronson paused. "Something was known about him," was the reply, "but not a great deal; he had been heard of for several centuries, but no white man had ever seen a living or even a dead gorilla. Dr. Wilson, a missionary on the west coast of Africa, discovered the skull of a gorilla in 1846, and a year later he found the skull and part of the skeleton of another. These relics were sent, one to Dr. Savage, of Boston, and the other--the second discovery--to the Boston Society of Natural History. "Wonderful stories were told about this animal by the negroes. It was said that he lurked upon trees, by the roadside or overhanging the paths, drew up unsuspecting passers-by with his paws, and then choked them to death. He was said to carry a stick or staff when walking, and to use it as a weapon of defence; troops of gorillas thus attacked elephants and beat them to death; the gorilla built himself a house of leaves and twigs among the trees and sat on the roof; and sometimes whole armies of gorillas banded together for purposes of war. All these stories proved to be fables; almost the only truthful account of the gorilla's prowess was that he was a terrible fighter and more than a match for a lion. Mr. Du Chaillu says that the lion does not inhabit the same region with the gorilla, and there is little doubt that the latter can whip the lion in ordinary combat. [Illustration: GORILLA SKULL.] "The strength of this creature is prodigious. A young one, two or three years old, requires four strong men to hold it, and even then in its struggles it is likely to bite one or more of them severely. It can dent a musket-barrel with its teeth, and an adult gorilla will bend a musket as though it were made of the softest wood. It can break off trees three or four inches in diameter, and a single blow of one of its fists will smash a man's skull like a sledge-hammer. It fights with arms and teeth, and does terrible execution with both." [Illustration: HUMAN SKULL.] "Does the gorilla walk erect like man, or on all-fours like the other members of the ape family?" Frank inquired. "Ordinarily it walks on all-fours," the Doctor answered, "but under certain circumstances it stands erect. When it advances to meet an assailant, or when desiring to look around, it rises to an erect position, and then assumes its greatest resemblance to man. If you look at the human and the gorilla skeletons side by side, you will perceive a great difference in their structure and readily understand how the locomotion of the gorilla on his hind-feet alone would not be altogether convenient. The fore-legs, or arms, of the gorilla are very much longer than those of man, and also very much stronger. A man unarmed could offer no practical resistance to a gorilla, and all who have hunted him understand this fact." "Do they hunt him with anything else than guns?" [Illustration: SKELETONS OF MAN AND THE GORILLA.] "No; or, at any rate, they only do so on very rare occasions. The rule of the gorilla-hunter is to wait until the animal is quite near, say within twenty feet, before firing. Unless the first shot is fatal or can be immediately followed by another from a repeating rifle or a gun in the hands of others standing near, the man who fired the first shot is almost certain to be killed. The gorilla rushes upon him, and there is no chance for defence or flight. A single blow from the animal's fist generally terminates the struggle. One of Du Chaillu's companions was killed in this way, and the great hunter himself had a narrow escape. He said it was very trying to his nerves to stand and wait five minutes or more while the gorilla was advancing slowly, halting occasionally to beat its breast and utter its cries, until he was in the very short range desired." "What do you think of the relation of the gorilla to man?" Fred asked, with a smile developed on his face. [Illustration: A YOUNG GORILLA--DU CHAILLU'S CAPTIVE.] "That is a question I hesitate to discuss, as I am not versed in the arguments that have been advanced by the scientists. Perhaps we'll talk that over some other time, when we have more light on the subject. Du Chaillu says that the gorilla skeleton, the skull excepted, resembles the bony frame of man more than does that of any other anthropoid ape. The form and proportion of the pelvis, the number of ribs, the length of the arm, the width of the hand, and the structure and arches of the feet--all these characteristics and some of its habits, appeared to the hunter and explorer to place the gorilla nearer to man than any other anthropoid ape is placed." Doctor Bronson paused and looked at his watch; and his action was taken as a signal for suspending the talk about the wild animals of Africa. Frank and Fred thanked their mentor for the information he had given them, and especially about the gorilla; their curiosity had been roused by the repeated mention of the Soko in Mr. Stanley's story of his journey "through the Dark Continent," and consequently the account of this strange beast was heard with interest. And as their conversation comes to an end we will return our thanks to the trio of travellers, Doctor Bronson, Frank, and Fred, and express the hope that we shall meet them again. THE END. 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5157	----	HOW I FOUND LIVINGSTONE Travels, Adventures and Discoveries in Central Africa including four months residence with Dr. Livingstone By Sir Henry M. Stanley, G.C.B. Abridged CHAPTER I.-- INTRODUCTORY. MY INSTRUCTIONS TO FIND AND RELIEVE LIVINGSTONE. On the sixteenth day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-nine, I was in Madrid, fresh from the carnage at Valencia. At 10 A.M. Jacopo, at No.-- Calle de la Cruz, handed me a telegram: It read, "Come to Paris on important business." The telegram was from Mr. James Gordon Bennett, jun., the young manager of the 'New York Herald.' Down came my pictures from the walls of my apartments on the second floor; into my trunks went my books and souvenirs, my clothes were hastily collected, some half washed, some from the clothes-line half dry, and after a couple of hours of hasty hard work my portmanteaus were strapped up and labelled "Paris." At 3 P.M. I was on my way, and being obliged to stop at Bayonne a few hours, did not arrive at Paris until the following night. I went straight to the 'Grand Hotel,' and knocked at the door of Mr. Bennett's room. "Come in," I heard a voice say. Entering, I found Mr. Bennett in bed. "Who are you?" he asked. "My name is Stanley," I answered. "Ah, yes! sit down; I have important business on hand for you." After throwing over his shoulders his robe-de-chambre Mr. Bennett asked, "Where do you think Livingstone is?" "I really do not know, sir." "Do you think he is alive?" "He may be, and he may not be," I answered. "Well, I think he is alive, and that he can be found, and I am going to send you to find him." "What!" said I, "do you really think I can find Dr Livingstone? Do you mean me to go to Central Africa?" "Yes; I mean that you shall go, and find him wherever you may hear that he is, and to get what news you can of him, and perhaps"--delivering himself thoughtfully and deliberately--"the old man may be in want:--take enough with you to help him should he require it. Of course you will act according to your own plans, and do what you think best--BUT FIND LIVINGSTONE!" Said I, wondering at the cool order of sending one to Central Africa to search for a man whom I, in common with almost all other men, believed to be dead, "Have you considered seriously the great expense you are likely, to incur on account of this little journey?" "What will it cost?" he asked abruptly. "Burton and Speke's journey to Central Africa cost between £3,000 and £5,000, and I fear it cannot be done under £2,500." "Well, I will tell you what you will do. Draw a thousand pounds now; and when you have gone through that, draw another thousand, and when that is spent, draw another thousand, and when you have finished that, draw another thousand, and so on; but, FIND LIVINGSTONE." Surprised but not confused at the order--for I knew that Mr. Bennett when once he had made up his mind was not easily drawn aside from his purpose--I yet thought, seeing it was such a gigantic scheme, that he had not quite considered in his own mind the pros and cons of the case; I said, "I have heard that should your father die you would sell the 'Herald' and retire from business." "Whoever told you that is wrong, for there is not, money enough in New York city to buy the 'New York Herald.' My father has made it a great paper, but I mean to make it greater. I mean that it shall be a newspaper in the true sense of the word. I mean that it shall publish whatever news will be interesting to the world at no matter what cost." "After that," said I, "I have nothing more to say. Do you mean me to go straight on to Africa to search for Dr. Livingstone?" "No! I wish you to go to the inauguration of the Suez Canal first, and then proceed up the Nile. I hear Baker is about starting for Upper Egypt. Find out what you can about his expedition, and as you go up describe as well as possible whatever is interesting for tourists; and then write up a guide--a practical one--for Lower Egypt; tell us about whatever is worth seeing and how to see it. "Then you might as well go to Jerusalem; I hear Captain Warren is making some interesting discoveries there. Then visit Constantinople, and find out about that trouble between the Khedive and the Sultan. "Then--let me see--you might as well visit the Crimea and those old battle-grounds, Then go across the Caucasus to the Caspian Sea; I hear there is a Russian expedition bound for Khiva. From thence you may get through Persia to India; you could write an interesting letter from Persepolis. "Bagdad will be close on your way to India; suppose you go there, and write up something about the Euphrates Valley Railway. Then, when you have come to India, you can go after Livingstone. Probably you will hear by that time that Livingstone is on his way to Zanzibar; but if not, go into the interior and find him. If alive, get what news of his discoveries you can; and if you find he is dead, bring all possible proofs of his being dead. That is all. Good-night, and God be with you." "Good-night, Sir," I said, "what it is in the power of human nature to do I will do; and on such an errand as I go upon, God will be with me." I lodged with young Edward King, who is making such a name in New England. He was just the man who would have delighted to tell the journal he was engaged upon what young Mr. Bennett was doing, and what errand I was bound upon. I should have liked to exchange opinions with him upon the probable results of my journey, but I dared not do so. Though oppressed with the great task before me, I had to appear as if only going to be present at the Suez Canal. Young King followed me to the express train bound for Marseilles, and at the station we parted: he to go and read the newspapers at Bowles' Reading-room--I to Central Africa and--who knows? There is no need to recapitulate what I did before going to Central Africa. I went up the Nile and saw Mr. Higginbotham, chief engineer in Baker's Expedition, at Philae, and was the means of preventing a duel between him and a mad young Frenchman, who wanted to fight Mr. Higginbotham with pistols, because that gentleman resented the idea of being taken for an Egyptian, through wearing a fez cap. I had a talk with Capt. Warren at Jerusalem, and descended one of the pits with a sergeant of engineers to see the marks of the Tyrian workmen on the foundation-stones of the Temple of Solomon. I visited the mosques of Stamboul with the Minister Resident of the United States, and the American Consul-General. I travelled over the Crimean battle-grounds with Kinglake's glorious books for reference in my hand. I dined with the widow of General Liprandi at Odessa. I saw the Arabian traveller Palgrave at Trebizond, and Baron Nicolay, the Civil Governor of the Caucasus, at Tiflis. I lived with the Russian Ambassador while at Teheran, and wherever I went through Persia I received the most hospitable welcome from the gentlemen of the Indo-European Telegraph Company; and following the examples of many illustrious men, I wrote my name upon one of the Persepolitan monuments. In the month of August, 1870, I arrived in India. On the 12th of October I sailed on the barque 'Polly' from Bombay to Mauritius. As the 'Polly' was a slow sailer, the passage lasted thirty-seven days. On board this barque was a William Lawrence Farquhar--hailing from Leith, Scotland--in the capacity of first-mate. He was an excellent navigator, and thinking he might be useful to me, I employed him; his pay to begin from the date we should leave Zanzibar for Bagamoyo. As there was no opportunity of getting, to Zanzibar direct, I took ship to Seychelles. Three or four days after arriving at Mahe, one of the Seychelles group, I was fortunate enough to get a passage for myself, William Lawrence Farquhar, and an Arab boy from Jerusalem, who was to act as interpreter--on board an American whaling vessel, bound for Zanzibar; at which port we arrived on the 6th of January, 1871. I have skimmed over my travels thus far, because these do not concern the reader. They led over many lands, but this book is only a narrative of my search after Livingstone, the great African traveller. It is an Icarian flight of journalism, I confess; some even have called it Quixotic; but this is a word I can now refute, as will be seen before the reader arrives at the "Finis." I have used the word "soldiers" in this book. The armed escort a traveller engages to accompany him into East Africa is composed of free black men, natives of Zanzibar, or freed slaves from the interior, who call themselves "askari," an Indian name which, translated, means "soldiers." They are armed and equipped like soldiers, though they engage themselves also as servants; but it would be more pretentious in me to call them servants, than to use the word "soldiers;" and as I have been more in the habit of calling them soldiers than "my watuma"--servants--this habit has proved too much to be overcome. I have therefore allowed the word "soldiers" to appear, accompanied, however, with this apology. But it must be remembered that I am writing a narrative of my own adventures and travels, and that until I meet Livingstone, I presume the greatest interest is attached to myself, my marches, my troubles, my thoughts, and my impressions. Yet though I may sometimes write, "my expedition," or "my caravan," it by no means follows that I arrogate to myself this right. For it must be distinctly understood that it is the "'New York Herald' Expedition," and that I am only charged with its command by Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the proprietor of the 'New York Herald,' as a salaried employ of that gentleman. One thing more; I have adopted the narrative form of relating the story of the search, on account of the greater interest it appears to possess over the diary form, and I think that in this manner I avoid the great fault of repetition for which some travellers have been severely criticised. CHAPTER II. -- ZANZIBAR. On the morning of the 6th January, 1871, we were sailing through the channel that separates the fruitful island of Zanzibar from Africa. The high lands of the continent loomed like a lengthening shadow in the grey of dawn. The island lay on our left, distant but a mile, coming out of its shroud of foggy folds bit by bit as the day advanced, until it finally rose clearly into view, as fair in appearance as the fairest of the gems of creation. It appeared low, but not flat; there were gentle elevations cropping hither and yon above the languid but graceful tops of the cocoa-trees that lined the margin of the island, and there were depressions visible at agreeable intervals, to indicate where a cool gloom might be found by those who sought relief from a hot sun. With the exception of the thin line of sand, over which the sap-green water rolled itself with a constant murmur and moan, the island seemed buried under one deep stratum of verdure. The noble bosom of the strait bore several dhows speeding in and out of the bay of Zanzibar with bellying sails. Towards the south, above the sea line of the horizon, there appeared the naked masts of several large ships, and to the east of these a dense mass of white, flat-topped houses. This was Zanzibar, the capital of the island;--which soon resolved itself into a pretty large and compact city, with all the characteristics of Arab architecture. Above some of the largest houses lining the bay front of the city streamed the blood-red banner of the Sultan, Seyd Burghash, and the flags of the American, English, North German Confederation, and French Consulates. In the harbor were thirteen large ships, four Zanzibar men-of-war, one English man-of-war--the 'Nymphe,' two American, one French, one Portuguese, two English, and two German merchantmen, besides numerous dhows hailing from Johanna and Mayotte of the Comoro Islands, dhows from Muscat and Cutch--traders between India, the Persian Gulf, and Zanzibar. It was with the spirit of true hospitality and courtesy that Capt. Francis R. Webb, United States Consul, (formerly of the United States Navy), received me. Had this gentleman not rendered me such needful service, I must have condescended to take board and lodging at a house known as "Charley's," called after the proprietor, a Frenchman, who has won considerable local notoriety for harboring penniless itinerants, and manifesting a kindly spirit always, though hidden under such a rugged front; or I should have been obliged to pitch my double-clothed American drill tent on the sandbeach of this tropical island, which was by no means a desirable thing. But Capt. Webb's opportune proposal to make his commodious and comfortable house my own; to enjoy myself, with the request that I would call for whatever I might require, obviated all unpleasant alternatives. One day's life at Zanzibar made me thoroughly conscious of my ignorance respecting African people and things in general. I imagined I had read Burton and Speke through, fairly well, and that consequently I had penetrated the meaning, the full importance and grandeur, of the work I was about to be engaged upon. But my estimates, for instance, based upon book information, were simply ridiculous, fanciful images of African attractions were soon dissipated, anticipated pleasures vanished, and all crude ideas began to resolve themselves into shape. I strolled through the city. My general impressions are of crooked, narrow lanes, white-washed houses, mortar-plastered streets, in the clean quarter;--of seeing alcoves on each side, with deep recesses, with a fore-ground of red-turbaned Banyans, and a back-ground of flimsy cottons, prints, calicoes, domestics and what not; or of floors crowded with ivory tusks; or of dark corners with a pile of unginned and loose cotton; or of stores of crockery, nails, cheap Brummagem ware, tools, &c., in what I call the Banyan quarter;--of streets smelling very strong--in fact, exceedingly, malodorous, with steaming yellow and black bodies, and woolly heads, sitting at the doors of miserable huts, chatting, laughing, bargaining, scolding, with a compound smell of hides, tar, filth, and vegetable refuse, in the negro quarter;--of streets lined with tall, solid-looking houses, flat roofed, of great carved doors with large brass knockers, with baabs sitting cross-legged watching the dark entrance to their masters' houses; of a shallow sea-inlet, with some dhows, canoes, boats, an odd steam-tub or two, leaning over on their sides in a sea of mud which the tide has just left behind it; of a place called "M'nazi-Moya," "One Cocoa-tree," whither Europeans wend on evenings with most languid steps, to inhale the sweet air that glides over the sea, while the day is dying and the red sun is sinking westward; of a few graves of dead sailors, who paid the forfeit of their lives upon arrival in this land; of a tall house wherein lives Dr. Tozer, "Missionary Bishop of Central Africa," and his school of little Africans; and of many other things, which got together into such a tangle, that I had to go to sleep, lest I should never be able to separate the moving images, the Arab from the African; the African from the Banyan; the Banyan from the Hindi; the Hindi from the European, &c. Zanzibar is the Bagdad, the Ispahan, the Stamboul, if you like, of East Africa. It is the great mart which invites the ivory traders from the African interior. To this market come the gum-copal, the hides, the orchilla weed, the timber, and the black slaves from Africa. Bagdad had great silk bazaars, Zanzibar has her ivory bazaars; Bagdad once traded in jewels, Zanzibar trades in gum-copal; Stamboul imported Circassian and Georgian slaves; Zanzibar imports black beauties from Uhiyow, Ugindo, Ugogo, Unyamwezi and Galla. The same mode of commerce obtains here as in all Mohammedan countries--nay, the mode was in vogue long before Moses was born. The Arab never changes. He brought the custom of his forefathers with him when he came to live on this island. He is as much of an Arab here as at Muscat or Bagdad; wherever he goes to live he carries with him his harem, his religion, his long robe, his shirt, his slippers, and his dagger. If he penetrates Africa, not all the ridicule of the negroes can make him change his modes of life. Yet the land has not become Oriental; the Arab has not been able to change the atmosphere. The land is semi-African in aspect; the city is but semi-Arabian. To a new-comer into Africa, the Muscat Arabs of Zanzibar are studies. There is a certain empressement about them which we must admire. They are mostly all travellers. There are but few of them who have not been in many dangerous positions, as they penetrated Central Africa in search of the precious ivory; and their various experiences have given their features a certain unmistakable air of-self-reliance, or of self-sufficiency; there is a calm, resolute, defiant, independent air about them, which wins unconsciously one's respect. The stories that some of these men could tell, I have often thought, would fill many a book of thrilling adventures. For the half-castes I have great contempt. They are neither black nor white, neither good nor bad, neither to be admired nor hated. They are all things, at all times; they are always fawning on the great Arabs, and always cruel to those unfortunates brought under their yoke. If I saw a miserable, half-starved negro, I was always sure to be told he belonged to a half-caste. Cringing and hypocritical, cowardly and debased, treacherous and mean, I have always found him. He seems to be for ever ready to fall down and worship a rich Arab, but is relentless to a poor black slave. When he swears most, you may be sure he lies most, and yet this is the breed which is multiplied most at Zanzibar. The Banyan is a born trader, the beau-ideal of a sharp money-making man. Money flows to his pockets as naturally as water down a steep. No pang of conscience will prevent him from cheating his fellow man. He excels a Jew, and his only rival in a market is a Parsee; an Arab is a babe to him. It is worth money to see him labor with all his energy, soul and body, to get advantage by the smallest fraction of a coin over a native. Possibly the native has a tusk, and it may weigh a couple of frasilahs, but, though the scales indicate the weight, and the native declares solemnly that it must be more than two frasilahs, yet our Banyan will asseverate and vow that the native knows nothing whatever about it, and that the scales are wrong; he musters up courage to lift it--it is a mere song, not much more than a frasilah. "Come," he will say, "close, man, take the money and go thy way. Art thou mad?" If the native hesitates, he will scream in a fury; he pushes him about, spurns the ivory with contemptuous indifference,--never was such ado about nothing; but though he tells the astounded native to be up and going, he never intends the ivory shall leave his shop. The Banyans exercise, of all other classes, most influence on the trade of Central Africa. With the exception of a very few rich Arabs, almost all other traders are subject to the pains and penalties which usury imposes. A trader desirous to make a journey into the interior, whether for slaves or ivory, gum-copal, or orchilla weed, proposes to a Banyan to advance him $5,000, at 50, 60, or 70 per cent. interest. The Banyan is safe enough not to lose, whether the speculation the trader is engaged upon pays or not. An experienced trader seldom loses, or if he has been unfortunate, through no deed of his own, he does not lose credit; with the help of the Banyan, he is easily set on his feet again. We will suppose, for the sake of illustrating how trade with the interior is managed, that the Arab conveys by his caravan $5,000's worth of goods into the interior. At Unyanyembe the goods are worth $10,000; at Ujiji, they are worth $15,000: they have trebled in price. Five doti, or $7.50, will purchase a slave in the markets of Ujiji that will fetch in Zanzibar $30. Ordinary menslaves may be purchased for $6 which would sell for $25 on the coast. We will say he purchases slaves to the full extent of his means--after deducting $1,500 expenses of carriage to Ujiji and back--viz. $3,500, the slaves--464 in number, at $7-50 per head--would realize $13,920 at Zanzibar! Again, let us illustrate trade in ivory. A merchant takes $5,000 to Ujiji, and after deducting $1,500 for expenses to Ujiji, and back to Zanzibar, has still remaining $3,500 in cloth and beads, with which he purchases ivory. At Ujiji ivory is bought at $20 the frasilah, or 35 lbs., by which he is enabled with $3,500 to collect 175 frasilahs, which, if good ivory, is worth about $60 per frasilah at Zanzibar. The merchant thus finds that he has realized $10,500 net profit! Arab traders have often done better than this, but they almost always have come back with an enormous margin of profit. The next people to the Banyans in power in Zanzibar are the Mohammedan Hindis. Really it has been a debateable subject in my mind whether the Hindis are not as wickedly determined to cheat in trade as the Banyans. But, if I have conceded the palm to the latter, it has been done very reluctantly. This tribe of Indians can produce scores of unconscionable rascals where they can show but one honest merchant. One of the honestest among men, white or black, red or yellow, is a Mohammedan Hindi called Tarya Topan. Among the Europeans at Zanzibar, he has become a proverb for honesty, and strict business integrity. He is enormously wealthy, owns several ships and dhows, and is a prominent man in the councils of Seyd Burghash. Tarya has many children, two or three of whom are grown-up sons, whom he has reared up even as he is himself. But Tarya is but a representative of an exceedingly small minority. The Arabs, the Banyans, and the Mohammedan Hindis, represent the higher and the middle classes. These classes own the estates, the ships, and the trade. To these classes bow the half-caste and the negro. The next most important people who go to make up the mixed population of this island are the negroes. They consist of the aborigines, Wasawahili, Somalis, Comorines, Wanyamwezi, and a host of tribal representatives of Inner Africa. To a white stranger about penetrating Africa, it is a most interesting walk through the negro quarters of the Wanyamwezi and the Wasawahili. For here he begins to learn the necessity of admitting that negroes are men, like himself, though of a different colour; that they have passions and prejudices, likes and dislikes, sympathies and antipathies, tastes and feelings, in common with all human nature. The sooner he perceives this fact, and adapts himself accordingly, the easier will be his journey among the several races of the interior. The more plastic his nature, the more prosperous will be his travels. Though I had lived some time among the negroes of our Southern States, my education was Northern, and I had met in the United States black men whom I was proud to call friends. I was thus prepared to admit any black man, possessing the attributes of true manhood or any good qualities, to my friendship, even to a brotherhood with myself; and to respect him for such, as much as if he were of my own colour and race. Neither his colour, nor any peculiarities of physiognomy should debar him with me from any rights he could fairly claim as a man. "Have these men--these black savages from pagan Africa," I asked myself, "the qualities which make man loveable among his fellows? Can these men--these barbarians--appreciate kindness or feel resentment like myself?" was my mental question as I travelled through their quarters and observed their actions. Need I say, that I was much comforted in observing that they were as ready to be influenced by passions, by loves and hates, as I was myself; that the keenest observation failed to detect any great difference between their nature and my own? The negroes of the island probably number two-thirds of the entire population. They compose the working-class, whether enslaved or free. Those enslaved perform the work required on the plantations, the estates, and gardens of the landed proprietors, or perform the work of carriers, whether in the country or in the city. Outside the city they may be seen carrying huge loads on their heads, as happy as possible, not because they are kindly treated or that their work is light, but because it is their nature to be gay and light-hearted, because they, have conceived neither joys nor hopes which may not be gratified at will, nor cherished any ambition beyond their reach, and therefore have not been baffled in their hopes nor known disappointment. Within the city, negro carriers may be heard at all hours, in couples, engaged in the transportation of clove-bags, boxes of merchandise, &c., from store to "godown" and from "go-down" to the beach, singing a kind of monotone chant for the encouragement of each other, and for the guiding of their pace as they shuffle through the streets with bare feet. You may recognise these men readily, before long, as old acquaintances, by the consistency with which they sing the tunes they have adopted. Several times during a day have I heard the same couple pass beneath the windows of the Consulate, delivering themselves of the same invariable tune and words. Some might possibly deem the songs foolish and silly, but they had a certain attraction for me, and I considered that they were as useful as anything else for the purposes they were intended. The town of Zanzibar, situate on the south-western shore of the island, contains a population of nearly one hundred thousand inhabitants; that of the island altogether I would estimate at not more than two hundred thousand inhabitants, including all races. The greatest number of foreign vessels trading with this port are American, principally from New York and Salem. After the American come the German, then come the French and English. They arrive loaded with American sheeting, brandy, gunpowder, muskets, beads, English cottons, brass-wire, china-ware, and other notions, and depart with ivory, gum-copal, cloves, hides, cowries, sesamum, pepper, and cocoa-nut oil. The value of the exports from this port is estimated at $3,000,000, and the imports from all countries at $3,500,000. The Europeans and Americans residing in the town of Zanzibar are either Government officials, independent merchants, or agents for a few great mercantile houses in Europe and America. The climate of Zanzibar is not the most agreeable in the world. I have heard Americans and Europeans condemn it most heartily. I have also seen nearly one-half of the white colony laid up in one day from sickness. A noxious malaria is exhaled from the shallow inlet of Malagash, and the undrained filth, the garbage, offal, dead mollusks, dead pariah dogs, dead cats, all species of carrion, remains of men and beasts unburied, assist to make Zanzibar a most unhealthy city; and considering that it it ought to be most healthy, nature having pointed out to man the means, and having assisted him so far, it is most wonderful that the ruling prince does not obey the dictates of reason. The bay of Zanzibar is in the form of a crescent, and on the south-western horn of it is built the city. On the east Zanzibar is bounded almost entirely by the Malagash Lagoon, an inlet of the sea. It penetrates to at least two hundred and fifty yards of the sea behind or south of Shangani Point. Were these two hundred and fifty yards cut through by a ten foot ditch, and the inlet deepened slightly, Zanzibar would become an island of itself, and what wonders would it not effect as to health and salubrity! I have never heard this suggestion made, but it struck me that the foreign consuls resident at Zanzibar might suggest this work to the Sultan, and so get the credit of having made it as healthy a place to live in as any near the equator. But apropos of this, I remember what Capt. Webb, the American Consul, told me on my first arrival, when I expressed to him my wonder at the apathy and inertness of men born with the indomitable energy which characterises Europeans and Americans, of men imbued with the progressive and stirring instincts of the white people, who yet allow themselves to dwindle into pallid phantoms of their kind, into hypochondriacal invalids, into hopeless believers in the deadliness of the climate, with hardly a trace of that daring and invincible spirit which rules the world. "Oh," said Capt. Webb, "it is all very well for you to talk about energy and all that kind of thing, but I assure you that a residence of four or five years on this island, among such people as are here, would make you feel that it was a hopeless task to resist the influence of the example by which the most energetic spirits are subdued, and to which they must submit in time, sooner or later. We were all terribly energetic when we first came here, and struggled bravely to make things go on as we were accustomed to have them at home, but we have found that we were knocking our heads against granite walls to no purpose whatever. These fellows--the Arabs, the Banyans, and the Hindis--you can't make them go faster by ever so much scolding and praying, and in a very short time you see the folly of fighting against the unconquerable. Be patient, and don't fret, that is my advice, or you won't live long here." There were three or four intensely busy men, though, at Zanzibar, who were out at all hours of the day. I know one, an American; I fancy I hear the quick pit-pat of his feet on the pavement beneath the Consulate, his cheery voice ringing the salutation, "Yambo!" to every one he met; and he had lived at Zanzibar twelve years. I know another, one of the sturdiest of Scotchmen, a most pleasant-mannered and unaffected man, sincere in whatever he did or said, who has lived at Zanzibar several years, subject to the infructuosities of the business he has been engaged in, as well as to the calor and ennui of the climate, who yet presents as formidable a front as ever to the apathetic native of Zanzibar. No man can charge Capt. H. C. Fraser, formerly of the Indian Navy, with being apathetic. I might with ease give evidence of the industry of others, but they are all my friends, and they are all good. The American, English, German, and French residents have ever treated me with a courtesy and kindness I am not disposed to forget. Taken as a body, it would be hard to find a more generous or hospitable colony of white men in any part of the world. CHAPTER III. -- ORGANIZATION OF THE EXPEDITION. I was totally ignorant of the interior, and it was difficult at first to know, what I needed, in order to take an Expedition into Central Africa. Time was precious, also, and much of it could not be devoted to inquiry and investigation. In a case like this, it would have been a godsend, I thought, had either of the three gentlemen, Captains Burton, Speke, or Grant, given some information on these points; had they devoted a chapter upon, "How to get ready an Expedition for Central Africa." The purpose of this chapter, then, is to relate how I set about it, that other travellers coming after me may have the benefit of my experience. These are some of the questions I asked myself, as I tossed on my bed at night:-- "How much money is required?" "How many pagazis, or carriers? "How many soldiers?" "How much cloth?" "How many beads?" "How much wire?" "What kinds of cloth are required for the different tribes?" Ever so many questions to myself brought me no clearer the exact point I wished to arrive at. I scribbled over scores of sheets of paper, made estimates, drew out lists of material, calculated the cost of keeping one hundred men for one year, at so many yards of different kinds of cloth, etc. I studied Burton, Speke, and Grant in vain. A good deal of geographical, ethnological, and other information appertaining to the study of Inner Africa was obtainable, but information respecting the organization of an expedition requisite before proceeding to Africa, was not in any book. The Europeans at Zanzibar knew as little as possible about this particular point. There was not one white man at Zanzibar who could tell how many dotis a day a force of one hundred men required to buy food for one day on the road. Neither, indeed, was it their business to know. But what should I do at all, at all? This was a grand question. I decided it were best to hunt up an Arab merchant who had been engaged in the ivory trade, or who was fresh from the interior. Sheikh Hashid was a man of note and of wealth in Zanzibar. He had himself despatched several caravans into the interior, and was necessarily acquainted with several prominent traders who came to his house to gossip about their adventures and gains. He was also the proprietor of the large house Capt. Webb occupied; besides, he lived across the narrow street which separated his house from the Consulate. Of all men Sheikh Hashid was the man to be consulted, and he was accordingly invited to visit me at the Consulate. From the grey-bearded and venerable-looking Sheikh, I elicited more information about African currency, the mode of procedure, the quantity and quality of stuffs I required, than I had obtained from three months' study of books upon Central Africa; and from other Arab merchants to whom the ancient Sheikh introduced me, I received most valuable suggestions and hints, which enabled me at last to organize an Expedition. The reader must bear in mind that a traveller requires only that which is sufficient for travel and exploration that a superfluity of goods or means will prove as fatal to him as poverty of supplies. It is on this question of quality and quantity that the traveller has first to exercise his judgment and discretion. My informants gave me to understand that for one hundred men, 10 doti, or 40 yards of cloth per diem, would suffice for food. The proper course to pursue, I found, was to purchase 2,000 doti of American sheeting, 1,000 doti of Kaniki, and 650 doti of the coloured cloths, such as Barsati, a great favourite in Unyamwezi; Sohari, taken in Ugogo; Ismahili, Taujiri, Joho, Shash, Rehani, Jamdani or Kunguru-Cutch, blue and pink. These were deemed amply sufficient for the subsistence of one hundred men for twelve months. Two years at this rate would require 4,000 doti = 16,000 yards of American sheeting; 2,000 doti = 8,000 yards of Kaniki; 1,300 doti = 5,200 yards of mixed coloured cloths. This was definite and valuable information to me, and excepting the lack of some suggestions as to the quality of the sheeting, Kaniki, and coloured cloths, I had obtained all I desired upon this point. Second in importance to the amount of cloth required was the quantity and quality of the beads necessary. Beads, I was told, took the place of cloth currency among some tribes of the interior. One tribe preferred white to black beads, brown to yellow, red to green, green to white, and so on. Thus, in Unyamwezi, red (sami-sami) beads would readily be taken, where all other kinds would be refused; black (bubu) beads, though currency in Ugogo, were positively worthless with all other tribes; the egg (sungomazzi) beads, though valuable in Ujiji and Uguhha, would be refused in all other countries; the white (Merikani) beads though good in Ufipa, and some parts of Usagara and Ugogo, would certainly be despised in Useguhha and Ukonongo. Such being the case, I was obliged to study closely, and calculate the probable stay of an expedition in the several countries, so as to be sure to provide a sufficiency of each kind, and guard against any great overplus. Burton and Speke, for instance, were obliged to throw away as worthless several hundred fundo of beads. For example, supposing the several nations of Europe had each its own currency, without the means of exchange, and supposing a man was about to travel through Europe on foot, before starting he would be apt to calculate how many days it would take him to travel through France; how many through Prussia, Austria, and Russia, then to reckon the expense he would be likely to incur per day. If the expense be set down at a napoleon per day, and his journey through France would occupy thirty days, the sum required forgoing and returning might be properly set down at sixty napoleons, in which case, napoleons not being current money in Prussia, Austria, or Russia, it would be utterly useless for him to burden himself with the weight of a couple of thousand napoleons in gold. My anxiety on this point was most excruciating. Over and over I studied the hard names and measures, conned again and again the polysyllables; hoping to be able to arrive some time at an intelligible definition of the terms. I revolved in my mind the words Mukunguru, Ghulabio, Sungomazzi, Kadunduguru, Mutunda, Samisami, Bubu, Merikani, Hafde, Lunghio-Rega, and Lakhio, until I was fairly beside myself. Finally, however, I came to the conclusion that if I reckoned my requirements at fifty khete, or five fundo per day, for two years, and if I purchased only eleven varieties, I might consider myself safe enough. The purchase was accordingly made, and twenty-two sacks of the best species were packed and brought to Capt. Webb's house, ready for transportation to Bagamoyo. After the beads came the wire question. I discovered, after considerable trouble, that Nos. 5 and 6--almost of the thickness of telegraph wire--were considered the best numbers for trading purposes. While beads stand for copper coins in Africa, cloth measures for silver; wire is reckoned as gold in the countries beyond the Tan-ga-ni-ka.* Ten frasilah, or 350 lbs., of brass-wire, my Arab adviser thought, would be ample. * It will be seen that I differ from Capt. Burton in the spelling of this word, as I deem the letter "y" superfluous. Having purchased the cloth, the beads, and the wire, it was with no little pride that I surveyed the comely bales and packages lying piled up, row above row, in Capt. Webb's capacious store-room. Yet my work was not ended, it was but beginning; there were provisions, cooking-utensils, boats, rope, twine, tents, donkeys, saddles, bagging, canvas, tar, needles, tools, ammunition, guns, equipments, hatchets, medicines, bedding, presents for chiefs--in short, a thousand things not yet purchased. The ordeal of chaffering and haggling with steel-hearted Banyans, Hindis, Arabs, and half-castes was most trying. For instance, I purchased twenty-two donkeys at Zanzibar. $40 and $50 were asked, which I had to reduce to $15 or $20 by an infinite amount of argument worthy, I think, of a nobler cause. As was my experience with the ass-dealers so was it with the petty merchants; even a paper of pins was not purchased without a five per cent. reduction from the price demanded, involving, of course, a loss of much time and patience. After collecting the donkeys, I discovered there were no pack-saddles to be obtained in Zanzibar. Donkeys without pack-saddles were of no use whatever. I invented a saddle to be manufactured by myself and my white man Farquhar, wholly from canvas, rope, and cotton. Three or four frasilahs of cotton, and ten bolts of canvas were required for the saddles. A specimen saddle was made by myself in order to test its efficiency. A donkey was taken and saddled, and a load of 140 lbs. was fastened to it, and though the animal--a wild creature of Unyamwezi--struggled and reared frantic ally, not a particle gave way. After this experiment, Farquhar was set to work to manufacture twenty-one more after the same pattern. Woollen pads were also purchased to protect the animals from being galled. It ought to be mentioned here, perhaps, that the idea of such a saddle as I manufactured, was first derived from the Otago saddle, in use among the transport-trains of the English army in Abyssinia. A man named John William Shaw--a native of London, England, lately third-mate of the American ship 'Nevada'--applied to me for work. Though his discharge from the 'Nevada' was rather suspicious, yet he possessed all the requirements of such a man as I needed, and was an experienced hand with the palm and needle, could cut canvas to fit anything, was a pretty good navigator, ready and willing, so far as his professions went.. I saw no reason to refuse his services, and he was accordingly engaged at $300 per annum, to rank second to William L. Farquhar. Farquhar was a capital navigator and excellent mathematician; was strong, energetic, and clever. The next thing I was engaged upon was to enlist, arm, and equip, a faithful escort of twenty men for the road. Johari, the chief dragoman of the American Consulate, informed me that he knew where certain of Speke's "Faithfuls" were yet to be found. The idea had struck me before, that if I could obtain the services of a few men acquainted with the ways of white men, and who could induce other good men to join the expedition I was organizing, I might consider myself fortunate. More especially had I thought of Seedy Mbarak Mombay, commonly called "Bombay," who though his head was "woodeny," and his hands "clumsy," was considered to be the "faithfulest" of the "Faithfuls." With the aid of the dragoman Johari, I secured in a few hours the services of Uledi (Capt. Grant's former valet), Ulimengo, Baruti, Ambari, Mabruki (Muinyi Mabruki--Bull-headed Mabruki, Capt. Burton's former unhappy valet)--five of Speke's "Faithfuls." When I asked them if they were willing to join another white man's expedition to Ujiji, they replied very readily that they were willing to join any brother of "Speke's." Dr. John Kirk, Her Majesty's Consul at Zanzibar, who was present, told them that though I was no brother of "Speke's," I spoke his language. This distinction mattered little to them: and I heard them, with great delight, declare their readiness to go anywhere with me, or do anything I wished. Mombay, as they called him, or Bombay, as we know him, had gone to Pemba, an island lying north of Zanzibar. Uledi was sure Mombay would jump with joy at the prospect of another expedition. Johari was therefore commissioned to write to him at Pemba, to inform him of the good fortune in store for him. On the fourth morning after the letter had been despatched, the famous Bombay made his appearance, followed in decent order and due rank by the "Faithfuls" of "Speke." I looked in vain for the "woodeny head" and "alligator teeth" with which his former master had endowed him. I saw a slender short man of fifty or thereabouts, with a grizzled head, an uncommonly high, narrow forehead, with a very large mouth, showing teeth very irregular, and wide apart. An ugly rent in the upper front row of Bombay's teeth was made with the clenched fist of Capt. Speke in Uganda when his master's patience was worn out, and prompt punishment became necessary. That Capt. Speke had spoiled him with kindness was evident, from the fact that Bombay had the audacity to stand up for a boxing-match with him. But these things I only found out, when, months afterwards, I was called upon to administer punishment to him myself. But, at his first appearance, I was favourably impressed with Bombay, though his face was rugged, his mouth large, his eyes small, and his nose flat. "Salaam aliekum," were the words he greeted me with. "Aliekum salaam," I replied, with all the gravity I could muster. I then informed him I required him as captain of my soldiers to Ujiji. His reply was that he was ready to do whatever I told him, go wherever I liked in short, be a pattern to servants, and a model to soldiers. He hoped I would give him a uniform, and a good gun, both of which were promised. Upon inquiring for the rest of the "Faithfuls" who accompanied Speke into Egypt, I was told that at Zanzibar there were but six. Ferrajji, Maktub, Sadik, Sunguru, Manyu, Matajari, Mkata, and Almas, were dead; Uledi and Mtamani were in Unyanyembe; Hassan had gone to Kilwa, and Ferahan was supposed to be in Ujiji. Out of the six "Faithfuls," each of whom still retained his medal for assisting in the "Discovery of the Sources of the Nile," one, poor Mabruki, had met with a sad misfortune, which I feared would incapacitate him from active usefulness. Mabruki the "Bull-headed," owned a shamba (or a house with a garden attached to it), of which he was very proud. Close to him lived a neighbour in similar circumstances, who was a soldier of Seyd Majid, with whom Mabruki, who was of a quarrelsome disposition, had a feud, which culminated in the soldier inducing two or three of his comrades to assist him in punishing the malevolent Mabruki, and this was done in a manner that only the heart of an African could conceive. They tied the unfortunate fellow by his wrists to a branch of a tree, and after indulging their brutal appetite for revenge in torturing him, left him to hang in that position for two days. At the expiration of the second day, he was accidentally discovered in a most pitiable condition. His hands had swollen to an immense size, and the veins of one hand having been ruptured, he had lost its use. It is needless to say that, when the affair came to Seyd Majid's ears, the miscreants were severely punished. Dr. Kirk, who attended the poor fellow, succeeded in restoring one hand to something of a resemblance of its former shape, but the other hand is sadly marred, and its former usefulness gone for ever. However, I engaged Mabruki, despite his deformed hands, his ugliness and vanity, because he was one of Speke's "Faithfuls." For if he but wagged his tongue in my service, kept his eyes open, and opened his mouth at the proper time, I assured myself I could make him useful. Bombay, my captain of escort, succeeded in getting eighteen more free men to volunteer as "askari" (soldiers), men whom he knew would not desert, and for whom he declared himself responsible. They were an exceedingly fine-looking body of men, far more intelligent in appearance than I could ever have believed African barbarians could be. They hailed principally from Uhiyow, others from Unyamwezi, some came from Useguhha and Ugindo. Their wages were set down at $36 each man per annum, or $3 each per month. Each soldier was provided with a flintlock musket, powder horn, bullet-pouch, knife, and hatchet, besides enough powder and ball for 200 rounds. Bombay, in consideration of his rank, and previous faithful services to Burton, Speke and Grant, was engaged at $80 a year, half that sum in advance, a good muzzle-loading rifle, besides, a pistol, knife, and hatchet were given to him, while the other five "Faithfuls," Ambari, Mabruki, Ulimengo, Baruti, and Uledi, were engaged at $40 a year, with proper equipments as soldiers. Having studied fairly well all the East African travellers' books regarding Eastern and Central Africa, my mind had conceived the difficulties which would present themselves during the prosecution of my search after Dr. Livingstone. To obviate all of these, as well as human wit could suggest, was my constant thought and aim. "Shall I permit myself, while looking from Ujiji over the waters of the Tanganika Lake to the other side, to be balked on the threshold of success by the insolence of a King Kannena or the caprice of a Hamed bin Sulayyam?" was a question I asked myself. To guard against such a contingency I determined to carry my own boats. "Then," I thought, "if I hear of Livingstone being on the Tanganika, I can launch my boat and proceed after him." I procured one large boat, capable of carrying twenty persons, with stores and goods sufficient for a cruise, from the American Consul, for the sum of $80, and a smaller one from another American gentleman for $40. The latter would hold comfortably six men, with suitable stores. I did not intend to carry the boats whole or bodily, but to strip them of their boards, and carry the timbers and thwarts only. As a substitute for the boards, I proposed to cover each boat with a double canvas skin well tarred. The work of stripping them and taking them to pieces fell to me. This little job occupied me five days. I also packed them up, for the pagazis. Each load was carefully weighed, and none exceeded 68 lbs. in weight. John Shaw excelled himself in the workmanship displayed on the canvas boats; when finished, they fitted their frames admirably. The canvas--six bolts of English hemp, No. 3--was procured from Ludha Damji, who furnished it from the Sultan's storeroom. An insuperable obstacle to rapid transit in Africa is the want of carriers, and as speed was the main object of the Expedition under my command, my duty was to lessen this difficulty as much as possible. My carriers could only be engaged after arriving at Bagamoyo, on the mainland. I had over twenty good donkeys ready, and I thought a cart adapted for the footpaths of Africa might prove an advantage. Accordingly I had a cart constructed, eighteen inches wide and five feet long, supplied with two fore-wheels of a light American wagon, more for the purpose of conveying the narrow ammunition-boxes. I estimated that if a donkey could carry to Unyanyembe a load of four frasilahs, or 140 lbs., he ought to be able to draw eight frasilahs on such a cart, which would be equal to the carrying capacity of four stout pagazis or carriers. Events will prove, how my theories were borne out by practice. When my purchases were completed, and I beheld them piled up, tier after tier, row upon row, here a mass of cooking-utensils, there bundles of rope, tents, saddles, a pile of portmanteaus and boxes, containing every imaginable thing, I confess I was rather abashed at my own temerity. Here were at least six tons of material! "How will it ever be possible," I thought, "to move all this inert mass across the wilderness stretching between the sea, and the great lakes of Africa? Bah, cast all doubts away, man, and have at them! 'Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof,' without borrowing from the morrow." The traveller must needs make his way into the African interior after a fashion very different from that to which he has been accustomed in other countries. He requires to take with him just what a ship must have when about to sail on a long voyage. He must have his slop chest, his little store of canned dainties, and his medicines, besides which, he must have enough guns, powder, and ball to be able to make a series of good fights if necessary. He must have men to convey these miscellaneous articles; and as a man's maximum load does not exceed 70 lbs., to convey 11,000 lbs. requires nearly 160 men. Europe and the Orient, even Arabia and Turkestan, have royal ways of travelling compared to Africa. Specie is received in all those countries, by which a traveller may carry his means about with him on his own person. Eastern and Central Africa, however, demand a necklace, instead of a cent; two yards of American sheeting, instead of half a dollar, or a florin, and a kitindi of thick brass-wire, in place of a gold piece. The African traveller can hire neither wagons nor camels, neither horses nor mules, to proceed with him into the interior. His means of conveyance are limited to black and naked men, who demand at least $15 a head for every 70 lbs. weight carried only as far as Unyanyembe. One thing amongst others my predecessors omitted to inform men bound for Africa, which is of importance, and that is, that no traveller should ever think of coming to Zanzibar with his money in any other shape than gold coin. Letters of credit, circular notes, and such civilized things I have found to be a century ahead of Zanzibar people. Twenty and twenty-five cents deducted out of every dollar I drew on paper is one of the unpleasant, if not unpleasantest things I have committed to lasting memory. For Zanzibar is a spot far removed from all avenues of European commerce, and coin is at a high premium. A man may talk and entreat, but though he may have drafts, cheques, circular notes, letters of credit, a carte blanche to get what he wants, out of every dollar must, be deducted twenty, twenty-five and thirty cents, so I was told, and so was my experience. What a pity there is no branch-bank here! I had intended to have gone into Africa incognito. But the fact that a white man, even an American, was about to enter Africa was soon known all over Zanzibar. This fact was repeated a thousand times in the streets, proclaimed in all shop alcoves, and at the custom-house. The native bazaar laid hold of it, and agitated it day and night until my departure. The foreigners, including the Europeans, wished to know the pros and cons of my coming in and going out. My answer to all questions, pertinent and impertinent, was, I am going to Africa. Though my card bore the words ________________________________________ | | | HENRY M. STANLEY. | | | | | | New York Herald. | |________________________________________| very few, I believe, ever coupled the words 'New York Herald' with a search after "Doctor Livingstone." It was not my fault, was it? Ah, me! what hard work it is to start an expedition alone! What with hurrying through the baking heat of the fierce relentless sun from shop to shop, strengthening myself with far-reaching and enduring patience far the haggling contest with the livid-faced Hindi, summoning courage and wit to brow-beat the villainous Goanese, and match the foxy Banyan, talking volumes throughout the day, correcting estimates, making up accounts, superintending the delivery of purchased articles, measuring and weighing them, to see that everything was of full measure and weight, overseeing the white men Farquhar and Shaw, who were busy on donkey saddles, sails, tents, and boats for the Expedition, I felt, when the day was over, as though limbs and brain well deserved their rest. Such labours were mine unremittingly for a month. Having bartered drafts on Mr. James Gordon Bennett to the amount of several thousand dollars for cloth, beads, wire, donkeys, and a thousand necessaries, having advanced pay to the white men, and black escort of the Expedition, having fretted Capt. Webb and his family more than enough with the din of preparation, and filled his house with my goods, there was nothing further to do but to leave my formal adieus with the Europeans, and thank the Sultan and those gentlemen who had assisted me, before embarking for Bagamoyo. The day before my departure from Zanzibar the American Consul, having just habited himself in his black coat, and taking with him an extra black hat, in order to be in state apparel, proceeded with me to the Sultan's palace. The prince had been generous to me; he had presented me with an Arab horse, had furnished me with letters of introduction to his agents, his chief men, and representatives in the interior, and in many other ways had shown himself well disposed towards me. The palace is a large, roomy, lofty, square house close to the fort, built of coral, and plastered thickly with lime mortar. In appearance it is half Arabic and half Italian. The shutters are Venetian blinds painted a vivid green, and presenting a striking contrast to the whitewashed walls. Before the great, lofty, wide door were ranged in two crescents several Baluch and Persian mercenaries, armed with curved swords and targes of rhinoceros hide. Their dress consisted of a muddy-white cotton shirt, reaching to the ancles, girdled with a leather belt thickly studded with silver bosses. As we came in sight a signal was passed to some person inside the entrance. When within twenty yards of the door, the Sultan, who was standing waiting, came down the steps, and, passing through the ranks, advanced toward us, with his right hand stretched out, and a genial smile of welcome on his face. On our side we raised our hats, and shook hands with him, after which, doing according as he bade us, we passed forward, and arrived on the highest step near the entrance door. He pointed forward; we bowed and arrived at the foot of an unpainted and narrow staircase to turn once more to the Sultan. The Consul, I perceived, was ascending sideways, a mode of progression which I saw was intended for a compromise with decency and dignity. At the top of the stairs we waited, with our faces towards the up-coming Prince. Again we were waved magnanimously forward, for before us was the reception-hall and throne-room. I noticed, as I marched forward to the furthest end, that the room was high, and painted in the Arabic style, that the carpet was thick and of Persian fabric, that the furniture consisted of a dozen gilt chairs and a chandelier, We were seated; Ludha Damji, the Banyan collector of customs, a venerable-looking old man, with a shrewd intelligent face, sat on the right of the Sultan; next to him was the great Mohammedan merchant Tarya Topan who had come to be present at the interview, not only because he was one of the councillors of His Highness, but because he also took a lively interest in this American Expedition. Opposite to Ludha sat Capt. Webb, and next to him I was seated, opposite Tarya Topan. The Sultan sat in a gilt chair between the Americans and the councillors. Johari the dragoman stood humbly before the Sultan, expectant and ready to interpret what we had to communicate to the Prince. The Sultan, so far as dress goes, might be taken for a Mingrelian gentleman, excepting, indeed, for the turban, whose ample folds in alternate colours of red, yellow, brown, and white, encircled his head. His long robe was of dark cloth, cinctured round the waist with his rich sword-belt, from which was suspended a gold-hilted scimitar, encased in a scabbard also enriched with gold: His legs and feet were bare, and had a ponderous look about them, since he suffered from that strange curse of Zanzibar--elephantiasis. His feet were slipped into a pair of watta (Arabic for slippers), with thick soles and a strong leathern band over the instep. His light complexion and his correct features, which are intelligent and regular, bespeak the Arab patrician. They indicate, however, nothing except his high descent and blood; no traits of character are visible unless there is just a trace of amiability, and perfect contentment with himself and all around. Such is Prince, or Seyd Burghash, Sultan of Zanzibar and Pemba, and the East coast of Africa, from Somali Land to the Mozambique, as he appeared to me. Coffee was served in cups supported by golden finjans, also some cocoa-nut milk, and rich sweet sherbet. The conversation began with the question addressed to the Consul. "Are you well?" Consul.--"Yes, thank you. How is His Highness?" Highness.--"Quite well!" Highness to me.--"Are you well?" Answer.--"Quite well, thanks!" The Consul now introduces business; and questions about my travels follow from His Highness-- "How do you like Persia?" "Have you seen Kerbela, Bagdad, Masr, Stamboul?" "Have the Turks many soldiers?" "How many has Persia?" "Is Persia fertile?" "How do you like Zanzibar?" Having answered each question to his Highness' satisfaction, he handed me letters of introduction to his officers at Bagamoyo and Kaole, and a general introductory letter to all Arab merchants whom I might meet on the road, and concluded his remarks to me, with the expressed hope, that on whatever mission I was bound, I should be perfectly successful. We bowed ourselves out of his presence in much the same manner that we had bowed ourselves in, he accompanying us to the great entrance door. Mr. Goodhue of Salem, an American merchant long resident in Zanzibar, presented me, as I gave him my adieu, with a blooded bay horse, imported from the Cape of Good Hope, and worth, at least at Zanzibar, $500. Feb. 4.--By the 4th of February, twenty-eight days from the date of my arrival at Zanzibar, the organization and equipment of the "'New York Herald' Expedition" was complete; tents and saddles had been manufactured, boats and sails were ready. The donkeys brayed, and the horses neighed impatiently for the road. Etiquette demanded that I should once more present my card to the European and American Consuls at Zanzibar, and the word "farewell" was said to everybody. On the fifth day, four dhows were anchored before the American Consulate. Into one were lifted the two horses, into two others the donkeys, into the fourth, the largest, the black escort, and bulky moneys of the Expedition. A little before noon we set sail. The American flag, a present to the Expedition by that kind-hearted lady, Mrs. Webb, was raised to the mast-head; the Consul, his lady, and exuberant little children, Mary and Charley, were on the housetop waving the starry banner, hats, and handkerchiefs, a token of farewell to me and mine. Happy people, and good! may their course and ours be prosperous, and may God's blessing rest on us all! CHAPTER IV. -- LIFE AT BAGAMOYO. The isle of Zanzibar with its groves of cocoa-nut, mango, clove, and cinnamon, and its sentinel islets of Chumbi and French, with its whitewashed city and jack-fruit odor, with its harbor and ships that tread the deep, faded slowly from view, and looking westward, the African continent rose, a similar bank of green verdure to that which had just receded till it was a mere sinuous line above the horizon, looming in a northerly direction to the sublimity of a mountain chain. The distance across from Zanzibar to Bagamoyo may be about twenty-five miles, yet it took the dull and lazy dhows ten hours before they dropped anchor on the top of the coral reef plainly visible a few feet below the surface of the water, within a hundred yards of the beach. The newly-enlisted soldiers, fond of noise and excitement, discharged repeated salvos by way of a salute to the mixed crowd of Arabs, Banyans, and Wasawahili, who stood on the beach to receive the Musungu (white man), which they did with a general stare and a chorus of "Yambo, bana?" (how are you, master?) In our own land the meeting with a large crowd is rather a tedious operation, as our independent citizens insist on an interlacing of fingers, and a vigorous shaking thereof before their pride is satisfied, and the peaceful manifestation endorsed; but on this beach, well lined with spectators, a response of "Yambo, bana!" sufficed, except with one who of all there was acknowledged the greatest, and who, claiming, like all great men, individual attention, came forward to exchange another "Yambo!" on his own behalf, and to shake hands. This personage with a long trailing turban, was Jemadar Esau, commander of the Zanzibar force of soldiers, police, or Baluch gendarmes stationed at Bagamoyo. He had accompanied Speke and Grant a good distance into the interior, and they had rewarded him liberally. He took upon himself the responsibility of assisting in the debarkation of the Expedition, and unworthy as was his appearance, disgraceful as he was in his filth, I here commend him for his influence over the rabble to all future East African travellers. Foremost among those who welcomed us was a Father of the Society of St.-Esprit, who with other Jesuits, under Father Superior Horner, have established a missionary post of considerable influence and merit at Bagamoyo. We were invited to partake of the hospitality of the Mission, to take our meals there, and, should we desire it, to pitch our camp on their grounds. But however strong the geniality of the welcome and sincere the heartiness of the invitation, I am one of those who prefer independence to dependence if it is possible. Besides, my sense of the obligation between host and guest had just had a fine edge put upon it by the delicate forbearance of my kind host at Zanzibar, who had betrayed no sign of impatience at the trouble I was only too conscious of having caused him. I therefore informed the hospitable Padre, that only for one night could I suffer myself to be enticed from my camp. I selected a house near the western outskirts of the town, where there is a large open square through which the road from Unyanyembe enters. Had I been at Bagamoyo a month, I could not have bettered my location. My tents were pitched fronting the tembe (house) I had chosen, enclosing a small square, where business could be transacted, bales looked over, examined, and marked, free from the intrusion of curious sightseers. After driving the twenty-seven animals of the Expedition into the enclosure in the rear of the house, storing the bales of goods, and placing a cordon of soldiers round, I proceeded to the Jesuit Mission, to a late dinner, being tired and ravenous, leaving the newly-formed camp in charge of the white men and Capt. Bombay. The Mission is distant from the town a good half mile, to the north of it; it is quite a village of itself, numbering some fifteen or sixteen houses. There are more than ten padres engaged in the establishment, and as many sisters, and all find plenty of occupation in educing from native crania the fire of intelligence. Truth compels me to state that they are very successful, having over two hundred pupils, boys and girls, in the Mission, and, from the oldest to the youngest, they show the impress of the useful education they have received. The dinner furnished to the padres and their guest consisted of as many plats as a first-class hotel in Paris usually supplies, and cooked with nearly as much skill, though the surroundings were by no means equal. I feel assured also that the padres, besides being tasteful in their potages and entrees, do not stultify their ideas for lack of that element which Horace, Hafiz, and Byron have praised so much. The champagne--think of champagne Cliquot in East Africa!--Lafitte, La Rose, Burgundy, and Bordeaux were of first-rate quality, and the meek and lowly eyes of the fathers were not a little brightened under the vinous influence. Ah! those fathers understand life, and appreciate its duration. Their festive board drives the African jungle fever from their doors, while it soothes the gloom and isolation which strike one with awe, as one emerges from the lighted room and plunges into the depths of the darkness of an African night, enlivened only by the wearying monotone of the frogs and crickets, and the distant ululation of the hyena. It requires somewhat above human effort, unaided by the ruby liquid that cheers, to be always suave and polite amid the dismalities of native life in Africa. After the evening meal, which replenished my failing strength, and for which I felt the intensest gratitude, the most advanced of the pupils came forward, to the number of twenty, with brass instruments, thus forming a full band of music. It rather astonished me to hear instrumental sounds issue forth in harmony from such woolly-headed youngsters; to hear well-known French music at this isolated port, to hear negro boys, that a few months ago knew nothing beyond the traditions of their ignorant mothers, stand forth and chant Parisian songs about French valor and glory, with all the sangfroid of gamins from the purlieus of Saint-Antoine. I had a most refreshing night's rest, and at dawn I sought out my camp, with a will to enjoy the new life now commencing. On counting the animals, two donkeys were missing; and on taking notes of my African moneys, one coil of No. 6 wire was not to be found. Everybody had evidently fallen on the ground to sleep, oblivious of the fact that on the coast there are many dishonest prowlers at night. Soldiers were despatched to search through the town and neighbourhood, and Jemadar Esau was apprised of our loss, and stimulated to discover the animals by the promise of a reward. Before night one of the missing donkeys was found outside the town nibbling at manioc-leaves, but the other animal and the coil of wire were never found. Among my visitors this first day at Bagamoyo was Ali bin Salim, a brother of the famous Sayd bin Salim, formerly Ras Kafilah to Burton and Speke, and subsequently to Speke and Grant. His salaams were very profuse, and moreover, his brother was to be my agent in Unyamwezi, so that I did not hesitate to accept his offer of assistance. But, alas, for my white face and too trustful nature! this Ali bin Salim turned out to be a snake in the grass, a very sore thorn in my side. I was invited to his comfortable house to partake of coffee. I went there: the coffee was good though sugarless, his promises were many, but they proved valueless. Said he to me, "I am your friend; I wish to serve you., what can I do for you?" Replied I, "I am obliged to you, I need a good friend who, knowing the language and Customs of the Wanyamwezi, can procure me the pagazis I need and send me off quickly. Your brother is acquainted with the Wasungu (white men), and knows that what they promise they make good. Get me a hundred and forty pagazis and I will pay you your price." With unctuous courtesy, the reptile I was now warmly nourishing; said, "I do not want anything from you, my friend, for such a slight service, rest content and quiet; you shall not stop here fifteen days. To-morrow morning I will come and overhaul your bales to see what is needed." I bade him good morning, elated with the happy thought that I was soon to tread the Unyanyembe road. The reader must be made acquainted with two good and sufficient reasons why I was to devote all my energy to lead the Expedition as quickly as possible from Bagamoyo. First, I wished to reach Ujiji before the news reached Livingstone that I was in search of him, for my impression of him was that he was a man who would try to put as much distance as possible between us, rather than make an effort to shorten it, and I should have my long journey for nothing. Second, the Masika, or rainy season, would soon be on me, which, if it caught me at Bagamoyo, would prevent my departure until it was over, which meant a delay of forty days, and exaggerated as the rains were by all men with whom I came in contact, it rained every day for forty days without intermission. This I knew was a thing to dread; for I had my memory stored with all kinds of rainy unpleasantnesses. For instance, there was the rain of Virginia and its concomitant horrors--wetness, mildew, agues, rheumatics, and such like; then there were the English rains, a miserable drizzle causing the blue devils; then the rainy season of Abyssinia with the flood-gates of the firmament opened, and an universal down-pour of rain, enough to submerge half a continent in a few hours; lastly, there was the pelting monsoon of India, a steady shut-in-house kind of rain. To which of these rains should I compare this dreadful Masika of East Africa? Did not Burton write much about black mud in Uzaramo? Well, a country whose surface soil is called black mud in fine weather, what can it be called when forty days' rain beat on it, and feet of pagazis and donkeys make paste of it? These were natural reflections, induced by the circumstances of the hour, and I found myself much exercised in mind in consequence. Ali bin Salim, true to his promise, visited my camp on the morrow, with a very important air, and after looking at the pile of cloth bales, informed me that I must have them covered with mat-bags. He said he would send a man to have them measured, but he enjoined me not to make any bargain for the bags, as he would make it all right. While awaiting with commendable patience the 140 pagazis promised by Ali bin Salim we were all employed upon everything that thought could suggest needful for crossing the sickly maritime region, so that we might make the transit before the terrible fever could unnerve us, and make us joyless. A short experience at Bagamoya showed us what we lacked, what was superfluous, and what was necessary. We were visited one night by a squall, accompanied by furious rain. I had $1,500 worth of pagazi cloth in my tent. In the morning I looked and lo! the drilling had let in rain like a sieve, and every yard of cloth was wet. It occupied two days afterwards to dry the cloths, and fold them again. The drill-tent was condemned, and a No. 5 hemp-canvas tent at onto prepared. After which I felt convinced that my cloth bales, and one year's ammunition, were safe, and that I could defy the Masika. In the hurry of departure from Zanzibar, and in my ignorance of how bales should be made, I had submitted to the better judgment and ripe experience of one Jetta, a commission merchant, to prepare my bales for carriage. Jetta did not weigh the bales as he made them up, but piled the Merikani, Kaniki, Barsati, Jamdani, Joho, Ismahili, in alternate layers, and roped the same into bales. One or two pagazis came to my camp and began to chaffer; they wished to see the bales first, before they would make a final bargain. They tried to raise them up--ugh! ugh! it was of no use, and withdrew. A fine Salter's spring balance was hung up, and a bale suspended to the hook; the finger indicated 105 lbs. or 3 frasilah, which was just 35 lbs. or one frasilah overweight. Upon putting all the bales to this test, I perceived that Jetta's guess-work, with all his experience, had caused considerable trouble to me. The soldiers were set to work to reopen and repack, which latter task is performed in the following manner:--We cut a doti, or four yards of Merikani, ordinarily sold at Zanzibar for $2.75 the piece of thirty yards, and spread out. We take a piece or bolt of good Merikani, and instead of the double fold given it by the Nashua and Salem mills, we fold it into three parts, by which the folds have a breadth of a foot; this piece forms the first layer, and will weigh nine pounds; the second layer consists of six pieces of Kaniki, a blue stuff similar to the blouse stuff of France, and the blue jeans of America, though much lighter; the third layer is formed of the second piece of Merikani, the fourth of six more pieces of Kaniki, the fifth of Merikani, the sixth of Kaniki as before, and the seventh and last of Merikani. We have thus four pieces of Merikani, which weigh 36 lbs., and 18 pieces of Kaniki weighing also 36 lbs., making a total of 72 lbs., or a little more than two frasilahs; the cloth is then folded singly over these layers, each corner tied to another. A bundle of coir-rope is then brought, and two men, provided with a wooden mallet for beating and pressing the bale, proceed to tie it up with as much nicety as sailors serve down rigging. When complete, a bale is a solid mass three feet and a half long, a foot deep, and a foot wide. Of these bales I had to convey eighty-two to Unyanyembe, forty of which consisted solely of the Merikani and Kaniki. The other forty-two contained the Merikani and coloured cloths, which latter were to serve as honga or tribute cloths, and to engage another set of pagazis from Unyanyembe to Ujiji, and from Ujiji to the regions beyond. The fifteenth day asked of me by Ali bin Salim for the procuring of the pagazis passed by, and there was not the ghost of a pagazi in my camp. I sent Mabruki the Bullheaded to Ali bin Salim, to convey my salaams and express a hope that he had kept his word. In half an hour's time Mabruki returned with the reply of the Arab, that in a few days he would be able to collect them all; but, added Mabruki, slyly, "Bana, I don't believe him. He said aloud to himself, in my hearing, 'Why should I get the Musungu pagazis? Seyd Burghash did not send a letter to me, but to the Jemadar. Why should I trouble myself about him? Let Seyd Burghash write me a letter to that purpose, and I will procure them within two days."' To my mind this was a time for action: Ali bin Salim should see that it was ill trifling with a white man in earnest to start. I rode down to his house to ask him what he meant. His reply was, Mabruki had told a lie as black as his face. He had never said anything approaching to such a thing. He was willing to become my slave--to become a pagazi himself. But here I stopped the voluble Ali, and informed him that I could not think of employing him in the capacity of a pagazi, neither could I find it in my heart to trouble Seyd Burghash to write a direct letter to him, or to require of a man who had deceived me once, as Ali bin Salim had, any service of any nature whatsoever. It would be better, therefore, if Ali bin Salim would stay away from my camp, and not enter it either in person or by proxy. I had lost fifteen days, for Jemadar Sadur, at Kaole, had never stirred from his fortified house in that village in my service, save to pay a visit, after the receipt of the Sultan's letter. Naranji, custom-house agent at Kaoie, solely under the thumb of the great Ludha Damji, had not responded to Ludha's worded request that he would procure pagazis, except with winks, nods, and promises, and it is but just stated how I fared at the hands of Ali bin Salim. In this extremity I remembered the promise made to me by the great merchant of Zanzibar--Tarya Topan--a Mohammedan Hindi--that he would furnish me with a letter to a young man named Soor Hadji Palloo, who was said to be the best man in Bagamoyo to procure a supply of pagazis. I despatched my Arab interpreter by a dhow to Zanzibar, with a very earnest request to Capt. Webb that he would procure from Tarya Topan the introductory letter so long delayed. It was the last card in my hand. On the third day the Arab returned, bringing with him not only the letter to Soor Hadji Palloo, but an abundance of good things from the ever-hospitable house of Mr. Webb. In a very short time after the receipt of his letter, the eminent young man Soor Hadji Palloo came to visit me, and informed me he had been requested by Tarya Topan to hire for me one hundred and forty pagazis to Unyanyembe in the shortest time possible. This he said would be very expensive, for there were scores of Arabs and Wasawabili merchants on the look out for every caravan that came in from the interior, and they paid 20 doti, or 80 yards of cloth, to each pagazi. Not willing or able to pay more, many of these merchants had been waiting as long as six months before they could get their quota. "If you," continued he, "desire to depart quickly, you must pay from 25 to 40 doti, and I can send you off before one month is ended." In reply, I said, "Here are my cloths for pagazis to the amount of $1,750, or 3,500 doti, sufficient to give one hundred and forty men 25 doti each. The most I am willing to pay is 25 doti: send one hundred and forty pagazis to Unyanyembe with my cloth and wire, and I will make your heart glad with the richest present you have ever received." With a refreshing naivete, the "young man" said he did not want any present, he would get me my quota of pagazis, and then I could tell the "Wasungu" what a good "young man" he was, and consequently the benefit he would receive would be an increase of business. He closed his reply with the astounding remark that he had ten pagazis at his house already, and if I would be good enough to have four bales of cloth, two bags of beads, and twenty coils of wire carried to his house, the pagazis could leave Bagamoyo the next day, under charge of three soldiers. "For," he remarked, "it is much better and cheaper to send many small caravans than one large one. Large caravans invite attack, or are delayed by avaricious chiefs upon the most trivial pretexts, while small ones pass by without notice." The bales and the beads were duly carried to Soor Hadji Palloo's house, and the day passed with me in mentally congratulating myself upon my good fortune, in complimenting the young Hindi's talents for business, the greatness and influence of Tarya Topan, and the goodness of Mr. Webb in thus hastening my departure from Bagamoyo. I mentally vowed a handsome present, and a great puff in my book, to Soor Hadji Palloo, and it was with a glad heart that I prepared these soldiers for their march to Unyayembe. The task of preparing the first caravan for the Unyanyembe road informed me upon several things that have escaped the notice of my predecessors in East Africa, a timely knowledge of which would have been of infinite service to me at Zanzibar, in the purchase and selection of sufficient and proper cloth. The setting out of the first caravan enlightened me also on the subject of honga, or tribute. Tribute had to be packed by itself, all of choice cloth; for the chiefs, besides being avaricious, are also very fastidious. They will not accept the flimsy cloth of the pagazi, but a royal and exceedingly high-priced dabwani, Ismahili, Rehani, or a Sohari, or dotis of crimson broad cloth. The tribute for the first caravan cost $25. Having more than one hundred and forty pagazis to despatch, this tribute money would finally amount to $330 in gold, with a minimum of 25c. on each dollar. Ponder on this, O traveller! I lay bare these facts for your special instruction. But before my first caravan was destined to part company with me, Soor Hadji Palloo--worthy young man--and I were to come to a definite understanding about money matters. The morning appointed for departure Soor Hadji Palloo came to my hut and presented his bill, with all the gravity of innocence, for supplying the pagazis with twenty-five doti each as their hire to Unyanyembe, begging immediate payment in money. Words fail to express the astonishment I naturally felt, that this sharp-looking young man should so soon have forgotten the verbal contract entered into between him and myself the morning previous, which was to the effect that out of the three thousand doti stored in my tent, and bought expressly for pagazi hire, each and every man hired for me as carriers from Bagamoyo to Unyanyembe, should be paid out of the store there in my tent, when I asked if he remembered the contract, he replied in the affirmative: his reasons for breaking it so soon were, that he wished to sell his cloths, not mine, and for his cloths he should want money, not an exchange. But I gave him to comprehend that as he was procuring pagazis for me, he was to pay my pagazis with my cloths; that all the money I expected to pay him, should be just such a sum I thought adequate for his trouble as my agent, and that only on those terms should he act for me in this or any other matter, and that the "Musungu" was not accustomed to eat his words. The preceding paragraph embodies many more words than are contained in it. It embodies a dialogue of an hour, an angry altercation of half-an-hour's duration, a vow taken on the part of Soor Hadji Palloo, that if I did not take his cloths he should not touch my business, many tears, entreaties, woeful penitence, and much else, all of which were responded to with, "Do as I want you to do, or do nothing." Finally came relief, and a happy ending. Soor Hadji Palloo went away with a bright face, taking with him the three soldiers' posho (food), and honga (tribute) for the caravan. Well for me that it ended so, and that subsequent quarrels of a similar nature terminated so peaceably, otherwise I doubt whether my departure from Bagamoyo would have happened so early as it did. While I am on this theme, and as it really engrossed every moment of my time at Bagamoyo, I may as well be more explicit regarding Boor Hadji Palloo and his connection with my business. Boor Hadji Palloo was a smart young man of business, energetic, quick at mental calculation, and seemed to be born for a successful salesman. His eyes were never idle; they wandered over every part of my person, over the tent, the bed, the guns, the clothes, and having swung clear round, began the silent circle over again. His fingers were never at rest, they had a fidgety, nervous action at their tips, constantly in the act of feeling something; while in the act of talking to me, he would lean over and feel the texture of the cloth of my trousers, my coat, or my shoes or socks: then he would feel his own light jamdani shirt or dabwain loin-cloth, until his eyes casually resting upon a novelty, his body would lean forward, and his arm was stretched out with the willing fingers. His jaws also were in perpetual motion, caused by vile habits he had acquired of chewing betel-nut and lime, and sometimes tobacco and lime. They gave out a sound similar to that of a young shoat, in the act of sucking. He was a pious Mohammedan, and observed the external courtesies and ceremonies of the true believers. He would affably greet me, take off his shoes, enter my tent protesting he was not fit to sit in my presence, and after being seated, would begin his ever-crooked errand. Of honesty, literal and practical honesty, this youth knew nothing; to the pure truth he was an utter stranger; the falsehoods he had uttered during his short life seemed already to have quenched the bold gaze of innocence from his eyes, to have banished the colour of truthfulness from his features, to have transformed him--yet a stripling of twenty--into a most accomplished rascal, and consummate expert in dishonesty. During the six weeks I encamped at Bagamoyo, waiting for my quota of men, this lad of twenty gave me very much trouble. He was found out half a dozen times a day in dishonesty, yet was in no way abashed by it. He would send in his account of the cloths supplied to the pagazis, stating them to be 25 paid to each; on sending a man to inquire I would find the greatest number to have been 20, and the smallest 12. Soor Hadji Palloo described the cloths to be of first-class quality, Ulyah cloths, worth in the market four times more than the ordinary quality given to the pagazis, yet a personal examination would prove them to be the flimsiest goods sold, such as American sheeting 2 1/2 feet broad, and worth $2.75 per 30 yards a piece at Zanzibar, or the most inferior Kaniki, which is generally sold at $9 per score. He would personally come to my camp and demand 40 lbs. of Sami-Sami, Merikani, and Bubu beads for posho, or caravan rations; an inspection of their store before departure from their first camp from Bagamoyo would show a deficiency ranging from 5 to 30 lbs. Moreover, he cheated in cash-money, such as demanding $4 for crossing the Kingani Ferry for every ten pagazis, when the fare was $2 for the same number; and an unconscionable number of pice (copper coins equal in value to 3/4 of a cent) were required for posho. It was every day for four weeks that this system of roguery was carried out. Each day conceived a dozen new schemes; every instant of his time he seemed to be devising how to plunder, until I was fairly at my wits' end how to thwart him. Exposure before a crowd of his fellows brought no blush of shame to his sallow cheeks; he would listen with a mere shrug of the shoulders and that was all, which I might interpret any way it pleased me. A threat to reduce his present had no effect; a bird in the hand was certainly worth two in the bush for him, so ten dollars' worth of goods stolen and in his actual possession was of more intrinsic value than the promise of $20 in a few days, though it was that of a white man. Readers will of course ask themselves why I did not, after the first discovery of these shameless proceedings, close my business with him, to which I make reply, that I could not do without him unless his equal were forthcoming, that I never felt so thoroughly dependent on any one man as I did upon him; without his or his duplicate's aid, I must have stayed at Bagamoyo at least six months, at the end of which time the Expedition would have become valueless, the rumour of it having been blown abroad to the four winds. It was immediate departure that was essential to my success--departure from Bagamoyo--after which it might be possible for me to control my own future in a great measure. These troubles were the greatest that I could at this time imagine. I have already stated that I had $1,750 worth of pagazis' clothes, or 3,500 doti, stored in my tent, and above what my bales contained. Calculating one hundred and forty pagazis at 25 doti each, I supposed I had enough, yet, though I had been trying to teach the young Hindi that the Musungu was not a fool, nor blind to his pilfering tricks, though the 3,500 doti were all spent; though I had only obtained one hundred and thirty pagazis at 25 doti each, which in the aggregate amounted to 3,200 doti: Soor Hadji Palloo's bill was $1,400 cash extra. His plea was that he had furnished Ulyah clothes for Muhongo 240 doti, equal in value to 960 of my doti, that the money was spent in ferry pice, in presents to chiefs of caravans of tents, guns, red broad cloth, in presents to people on the Mrima (coast) to induce them to hunt up pagazis. Upon this exhibition of most ruthless cheating I waxed indignant, and declared to him that if he did not run over his bill and correct it, he should go without a pice. But before the bill could be put into proper shape, my words, threats, and promises falling heedlessly on a stony brain, a man, Kanjee by name, from the store of Tarya Topan, of Zanzibar, had to come over, when the bill was finally reduced to $738. Without any disrespect to Tarya Topan, I am unable to decide which is the most accomplished rascal, Kanjee, or young Soor Hadji Palloo; in the words of a white man who knows them both, "there is not the splitting of a straw between them." Kanjee is deep and sly, Soor Hadji Palloo is bold and incorrigible. But peace be to them both, may their shaven heads never be covered with the troublous crown I wore at Bagamoyo! My dear friendly reader, do not think, if I speak out my mind in this or in any other chapter upon matters seemingly trivial and unimportant, that seeming such they should be left unmentioned. Every tittle related is a fact, and to knew facts is to receive knowledge. How could I ever recite my experience to you if I did not enter upon these miserable details, which sorely distract the stranger upon his first arrival? Had I been a Government official, I had but wagged my finger and my quota of pagazis had been furnished me within a week; but as an individual arriving without the graces of official recognition, armed with no Government influence, I had to be patient, bide my time, and chew the cud of irritation quietly, but the bread I ate was not all sour, as this was. The white men, Farquhar and Shaw, were kept steadily at work upon water-proof tents of hemp canvas, for I perceived, by the premonitory showers of rain that marked the approach of the Masika that an ordinary tent of light cloth would subject myself to damp and my goods to mildew, and while there was time to rectify all errors that had crept into my plans through ignorance or over haste, I thought it was not wise to permit things to rectify themselves. Now that I have returned uninjured in health, though I have suffered the attacks of twenty-three fevers within the short space of thirteen months; I must confess I owe my life, first, to the mercy of God; secondly, to the enthusiasm for my work, which animated me from the beginning to the end; thirdly, to having never ruined my constitution by indulgence in vice and intemperance; fourthly, to the energy of my nature; fifthly, to a native hopefulness which never died; and, sixthly, to having furnished myself with a capacious water and damp proof canvas house. And here, if my experience may be of value, I would suggest that travellers, instead of submitting their better judgment to the caprices of a tent-maker, who will endeavour to pass off a handsomely made fabric of his own, which is unsuited to all climes, to use his own judgment, and get the best and strongest that money will buy. In the end it will prove the cheapest, and perhaps be the means of saving his life. On one point I failed, and lest new and young travellers fall into the same error which marred much of my enjoyment, this paragraph is written. One must be extremely careful in his choice of weapons, whether for sport or defence. A traveller should have at least three different kinds of guns. One should be a fowling-piece, the second should be a double-barrelled rifle, No. 10 or 12, the third should be a magazine-rifle, for defence. For the fowling-piece I would suggest No. 12 bore, with barrels at least four feet in length. For the rifle for larger game, I would point out, with due deference to old sportsmen, of course, that the best guns for African game are the English Lancaster and Reilly rifles; and for a fighting weapon, I maintain that the best yet invented is the American Winchester repeating rifle, or the "sixteen, shooter" as it is called, supplied with the London Eley's ammunition. If I suggest as a fighting weapon the American Winchester, I do not mean that the traveller need take it for the purpose of offence, but as the beat means of efficient defence, to save his own life against African banditti, when attacked, a thing likely to happen any time. I met a young man soon after returning from the interior, who declared his conviction that the "Express," rifle was the most perfect weapon ever invented to destroy African game. Very possibly the young man may be right, and that the "Express" rifle is all he declares it to be, but he had never practised with it against African game, and as I had never tried it, I could not combat his assertion: but I could relate my experiences with weapons, having all the penetrating powers of the "Express," and could inform him that though the bullets penetrated through the animals, they almost always failed to bring down the game at the first fire. On the other hand, I could inform him, that during the time I travelled with Dr. Livingstone the Doctor lent me his heavy Reilly rifle with which I seldom failed to bring an animal or two home to the camp, and that I found the Fraser shell answer all purposes for which it was intended. The feats related by Capt. Speke and Sir Samuel Baker are no longer matter of wonderment to the young sportsman, when he has a Lancaster or a Reilly in his hand. After very few trials he can imitate them, if not excel their Leeds, provided he has a steady hand. And it is to forward this end that this paragraph is written. African game require "bone-crushers;" for any ordinary carbine possesses sufficient penetrative qualities, yet has not he disabling qualities which a gun must possess to be useful in the hands of an African explorer. I had not been long at Bagamoyo before I went over to Mussoudi's camp, to visit the "Livingstone caravan" which the British Consul had despatched on the first day of November, 1870, to the relief of Livingstone. The number of packages was thirty-five, which required as many men to convey them to Unyanyembe. The men chosen to escort this caravan were composed of Johannese and Wahiyow, seven in number. Out of the seven, four were slaves. They lived in clover here--thoughtless of the errand they had been sent upon, and careless of the consequences. What these men were doing at Bagamoyo all this time I never could conceive, except indulging their own vicious propensities. It would be nonsense to say there were no pagazis; because I know there were at least fifteen caravans which had started for the interior since the Ramadan (December 15th, 1870). Yet Livingstone's caravan had arrived at this little town of Bagamoyo November 2nd, and here it had been lying until the 10th February, in all, 100 days, for lack of the limited number of thirty-five pagazis, a number that might be procured within two days through consular influence. Bagamoyo has a most enjoyable climate. It is far preferable in every sense to that of Zanzibar. We were able to sleep in the open air, and rose refreshed and healthy each morning, to enjoy our matutinal bath in the sea; and by the time the sun had risen we were engaged in various preparations for our departure for the interior. Our days were enlivened by visits from the Arabs who were also bound for Unyanyembe; by comical scenes in the camp; sometimes by court-martials held on the refractory; by a boxing-match between Farquhar and Shaw, necessitating my prudent interference when they waxed too wroth; by a hunting excursion now and then to the Kingani plain and river; by social conversation with the old Jemadar and his band of Baluches, who were never tired of warning me that the Masika was at hand, and of advising me that my best course was to hurry on before the season for travelling expired. Among the employees with the Expedition were two Hindi and two Goanese. They had conceived the idea that the African interior was an El Dorado, the ground of which was strewn over with ivory tusks, and they had clubbed together; while their imaginations were thus heated, to embark in a little enterprise of their own. Their names were Jako, Abdul Kader, Bunder Salaam, and Aranselar; Jako engaged in my service, as carpenter and general help; Abdul Kader as a tailor, Bunder Salaam as cook, and Aranselar as chief butler. But Aranselar, with an intuitive eye, foresaw that I was likely to prove a vigorous employer, and while there was yet time he devoted most of it to conceive how it were possible to withdraw from the engagement. He received permission upon asking for it to go to Zanzibar to visit his friends. Two days afterwards I was informed he had blown his right eye out, and received a medical confirmation of the fact, and note of the extent of the injury, from Dr. Christie, the physician to His Highness Seyd Burghash. His compatriots I imagined were about planning the same thing, but a peremptory command to abstain from such folly, issued after they had received their advance-pay, sufficed to check any sinister designs they may have formed. A groom was caught stealing from the bales, one night, and the chase after him into the country until he vanished out of sight into the jungle, was one of the most agreeable diversions which occurred to wear away the interval employed in preparing for the march. I had now despatched four caravans into the interior, and the fifth, which was to carry the boats and boxes, personal luggage, and a few cloth and bead loads, was ready to be led by myself. The following is the order of departure of the caravans. 1871. Feb. 6.--Expedition arrived at Bagamoyo. 1871. Feb. 18.--First caravan departs with twenty-four pagazis and three soldiers. 1871. Feb. 21.--Second caravan departs with twenty-eight pagazis, two chiefs, and two soldiers. 1871. Feb. 25.--Third caravan departs with twenty-two pagazis, ten donkeys, one white man, one cook, and three soldiers. 1871. March. 11.--Fourth caravan departs with fifty-five pagazis, two chiefs, and three soldiers. 1871. March. 21.--Fifth caravan departs with twenty-eight pagazis, twelve soldiers, two white men, one tailor, one cook, one interpreter, one gun-bearer, seventeen asses, two horses, and one dog. Total number, inclusive of all souls, comprised in caravans connected with the "New York Herald' Expedition," 192. CHAPTER V. -- THROUGH UKWERE, UKAMI, AND UDOE TO USEGUHHA. Leaving Bagamoyo for the interior.--Constructing a Bridge.-- Our first troubles.--Shooting Hippopotami.--A first view of the Game Land.--Anticipating trouble with the Wagogo.--The dreadful poison--flies.--Unlucky adventures while hunting.-- The cunning chief of Kingaru.--Sudden death of my two horses.--A terrible experience.--The city of the "Lion Lord." On the 21st of March, exactly seventy-three days after my arrival at Zanzibar, the fifth caravan, led by myself, left the town of Bagamoyo for our first journey westward, with "Forward!" for its mot du guet. As the kirangozi unrolled the American flag, and put himself at the head of the caravan, and the pagazis, animals, soldiers, and idlers were lined for the march, we bade a long farewell to the dolce far niente of civilised life, to the blue ocean, and to its open road to home, to the hundreds of dusky spectators who were there to celebrate our departure with repeated salvoes of musketry. Our caravan is composed of twenty-eight pagazis, including the kirangozi, or guide; twelve soldiers under Capt. Mbarak Bombay, in charge of seventeen donkeys and their loads; Selim, my interpreter, in charge of the donkey and cart and its load; one cook and sub, who is also to be tailor and ready hand for all, and leads the grey horse; Shaw, once mate of a ship, now transformed into rearguard and overseer for the caravan, who is mounted on a good riding-donkey, and wearing a canoe-like tepee and sea-boots; and lastly, on, the splendid bay horse presented to me by Mr. Goodhue, myself, called Bana Mkuba, "the big master," by my people--the vanguard, the reporter, the thinker, and leader of the Expedition. Altogether the Expedition numbers on the day of departure three white men, twenty-three soldiers, four supernumeraries, four chiefs, and one hundred and fifty-three pagazis, twenty-seven donkeys, and one cart, conveying cloth, beads, and wire, boat-fixings, tents, cooking utensils and dishes, medicine, powder, small shot, musket-balls, and metallic cartridges; instruments and small necessaries, such as soap, sugar, tea, coffee, Liebig's extract of meat, pemmican, candles, &c., which make a total of 153 loads. The weapons of defence which the Expedition possesses consist of one double-barrel breech-loading gun, smooth bore; one American Winchester rifle, or "sixteen-shooter;" one Henry rifle, or "sixteen-shooter;" two Starr's breech-loaders, one Jocelyn breech-loader, one elephant rifle, carrying balls eight to the pound; two breech-loading revolvers, twenty-four muskets (flint locks), six single-barrelled pistols, one battle-axe, two swords, two daggers (Persian kummers, purchased at Shiraz by myself), one boar-spear, two American axes 4 lbs. each, twenty-four hatchets, and twenty-four butcher-knives. The Expedition has been fitted with care; whatever it needed was not stinted; everything was provided. Nothing was done too hurriedly, yet everything was purchased, manufactured, collected, and compounded with the utmost despatch consistent with efficiency and means. Should it fail of success in its errand of rapid transit to Ujiji and back, it must simply happen from an accident which could not be controlled. So much for the _personnel_ of the Expedition and its purpose, until its _point de mire_ be reached. We left Bagamoyo the attraction of all the curious, with much eclat, and defiled up a narrow lane shaded almost to twilight by the dense umbrage of two parallel hedges of mimosas. We were all in the highest spirits. The soldiers sang, the kirangozi lifted his voice into a loud bellowing note, and fluttered the American flag, which told all on-lookers, "Lo, a Musungu's caravan!" and my heart, I thought, palpitated much too quickly for the sober face of a leader. But I could not check it; the enthusiasm of youth still clung to me--despite my travels; my pulses bounded with the full glow of staple health; behind me were the troubles which had harassed me for over two months. With that dishonest son of a Hindi, Soor Hadji Palloo, I had said my last word; of the blatant rabble, of Arabs, Banyans, and Baluches I had taken my last look; with the Jesuits of the French Mission I had exchanged farewells, and before me beamed the sun of promise as he sped towards the Occident. Loveliness glowed around me. I saw fertile fields, riant vegetation, strange trees--I heard the cry of cricket and pee-wit, and sibilant sound of many insects, all of which seemed to tell me, "At last you are started." What could I do but lift my face toward the pure-glowing sky, and cry, "God be thanked!" The first camp, Shamba Gonera, we arrived at in 1 hour 30 minutes, equal to 3 1/4 miles. This first, or "little journey," was performed very well, "considering," as the Irishman says. The boy Selim upset the cart not more than three times. Zaidi, the soldier, only once let his donkey, which carried one bag of my clothes and a box of ammunition, lie in a puddle of black water. The clothes have to be re-washed; the ammunition-box, thanks to my provision, was waterproof. Kamna perhaps knew the art of donkey-driving, but, overjoyful at the departure, had sung himself into oblivion of the difficulties with which an animal of the pure asinine breed has naturally to contend against, such as not knowing the right road, and inability to resist the temptation of straying into the depths of a manioc field; and the donkey, ignorant of the custom in vogue amongst ass-drivers of flourishing sticks before an animal's nose, and misunderstanding the direction in which he was required to go, ran off at full speed along an opposite road, until his pack got unbalanced, and he was fain to come to the earth. But these incidents were trivial, of no importance, and natural to the first "little journey" in East Africa. The soldiers' point of character leaked out just a little. Bombay turned out to be honest and trusty, but slightly disposed to be dilatory. Uledi did more talking than work; while the runaway Ferajji and the useless-handed Mabruki Burton turned out to be true men and staunch, carrying loads the sight of which would have caused the strong-limbed hamals of Stamboul to sigh. The saddles were excellent, surpassing expectation. The strong hemp canvas bore its one hundred and fifty-pounds' burden with the strength of bull hide, and the loading and unloading of miscellaneous baggage was performed with systematic despatch. In brief, there was nothing to regret--the success of the journey proved our departure to be anything but premature. The next three days were employed in putting the finishing touches to our preparations for the long land journey and our precautions against the Masika, which was now ominously near, and in settling accounts. Shamba Gonera means Gonera's Field. Gonera is a wealthy Indian widow, well disposed towards the Wasungu (whites). She exports much cloth, beads, and wire into the far interior, and imports in return much ivory. Her house is after the model of the town houses, with long sloping roof and projecting eaves, affording a cool shade, under which the pagazis love to loiter. On its southern and eastern side stretch the cultivated fields which supply Bagamoyo with the staple grain, matama, of East Africa; on the left grow Indian corn, and muhogo, a yam-like root of whitish colour, called by some manioc; when dry, it is ground and compounded into cakes similar to army slapjacks. On the north, just behind the house, winds a black quagmire, a sinuous hollow, which in its deepest parts always contains water--the muddy home of the brake-and-rush-loving "kiboko" or hippopotamus. Its banks, crowded with dwarf fan-palm, tall water-reeds, acacias, and tiger-grass, afford shelter to numerous aquatic birds, pelicans, &c. After following a course north-easterly, it conflows with the Kingani, which, at distance of four miles from Gonera's country-house; bends eastward into the sea. To the west, after a mile of cultivation, fall and recede in succession the sea-beach of old in lengthy parallel waves, overgrown densely with forest grass and marsh reeds. On the spines of these land-swells flourish ebony, calabash, and mango. "Sofari--sofari leo! Pakia, pakia!"--"A journey--a journey to day! Set out!--set out!" rang the cheery voice of the kirangozi, echoed by that of my servant Selim, on the morning of the fourth day, which was fixed for our departure in earnest. As I hurried my men to their work, and lent a hand with energy to drop the tents, I mentally resolved that, if my caravans a should give me clear space, Unyanyembe should be our resting-place before three months expired. By 6 A.M. our early breakfast was despatched, and the donkeys and pagazis were defiling from Camp Gonera. Even at this early hour, and in this country place, there was quite a collection of curious natives, to whom we gave the parting "Kwaheri" with sincerity. My bay horse was found to be invaluable for the service of a quarter-master of a transport-train; for to such was I compelled to compare myself. I could stay behind until the last donkey had quitted the camp, and, by a few minutes' gallop, I could put myself at the head, leaving Shaw to bring up the rear. The road was a mere footpath, and led over a soil which, though sandy, was of surprising fertility, producing grain and vegetables a hundredfold, the sowing and planting of which was done in the most unskilful manner. In their fields, at heedless labor, were men and women in the scantiest costumes, compared to which Adam and Eve, in their fig-tree apparel, must have been _en grande tenue_. We passed them with serious faces, while they laughed and giggled, and pointed their index fingers at this and that, which to them seemed so strange and bizarre. In about half an hour we had left the tall matama and fields of water-melons, cucumbers, and manioc; and, crossing a reedy slough, were in an open forest of ebony and calabash. In its depths are deer in plentiful numbers, and at night it is visited by the hippopotami of the Kingani for the sake of its grass. In another hour we had emerged from the woods, and were looking down upon the broad valley of the Kingani, and a scene presented itself so utterly different from what my foolish imagination had drawn, that I felt quite relieved by the pleasing disappointment. Here was a valley stretching four miles east and west, and about eight miles north and south, left with the richest soil to its own wild growth of grass--which in civilization would have been a most valuable meadow for the rearing of cattle--invested as it was by dense forests, darkening the horizon at all points of the compass, and folded in by tree-clad ridges. At the sound of our caravan the red antelope bounded away to our right and the left, and frogs hushed their croak. The sun shone hot, and while traversing the valley we experienced a little of its real African fervour. About half way across we came to a sluice of stagnant water which, directly in the road of the caravan, had settled down into an oozy pond. The pagazis crossed a hastily-constructed bridge, thrown up a long time ago by some Washensi Samaritans. It was an extraordinary affair; rugged tree limbs resting on very unsteady forked piles, and it had evidently tested the patience of many a loaded Mnyamwezi, as it did those porters of our caravan. Our weaker animals were unloaded, the puddle between Bagamoyo and Genera having taught us prudence. But this did not occasion much delay; the men worked smartly under Shaw's supervision. The turbid Kingani, famous for its hippopotami, was reached in a short time, and we began to thread the jungle along its right bank until we were halted point-blank by a narrow sluice having an immeasurable depth of black mud. The difficulty presented by this was very grave, though its breadth was barely eight feet; the donkeys, and least of all the horses, could not be made to traverse two poles like our biped carriers, neither could they be driven into the sluice, where they would quickly founder. The only available way of crossing it in safety was by means of a bridge, to endure in this conservative land for generations as the handiwork of the Wasungu. So we set to work, there being no help for it, with American axes--the first of their kind the strokes of which ever rang in this part of the world--to build a bridge. Be sure it was made quickly, for where the civilized white is found, a difficulty must vanish. The bridge was composed of six stout trees thrown across, over these were laid crosswise fifteen pack saddles, covered again with a thick layer of grass. All the animals crossed it safely, and then for a third time that morning the process of wading was performed. The Kingani flowed northerly here, and our course lay down its right bank. A half mile in that direction through a jungle of giant reeds and extravagant climbers brought us to the ferry, where the animals had to be again unloaded--verily, I wished when I saw its deep muddy waters that I possessed the power of Moses with his magic rod, or what would have answered my purpose as well, Aladdin's ring, for then I could have found myself and party on the opposite side without further trouble; but not having either of these gifts I issued orders for an immediate crossing, for it was ill wishing sublime things before this most mundane prospect. Kingwere, the canoe paddler, espying us from his brake covert, on the opposite side, civilly responded to our halloos, and brought his huge hollowed tree skilfully over the whirling eddies of the river to where we stood waiting for him. While one party loaded the canoe with our goods, others got ready a long rape to fasten around the animals' necks, wherewith to haul them through the river to the other bank. After seeing the work properly commenced, I sat down on a condemned canoe to amuse myself with the hippopotami by peppering their thick skulls with my No. 12 smooth-bore. The Winchester rifle (calibre 44), a present from the Hon. Edward Joy Morris--our minister at Constantinople--did no more than slightly tap them, causing about as much injury as a boy's sling; it was perfect in its accuracy of fire, for ten times in succession I struck the tops of their heads between the ears. One old fellow, with the look of a sage, was tapped close to the right ear by one of these bullets. Instead of submerging himself as others had done he coolly turned round his head as if to ask, "Why this waste of valuable cartridges on us?" The response to the mute inquiry of his sageship was an ounce-and-a-quarter bullet from the smooth-bore, which made him bellow with pain, and in a few moments he rose up again, tumbling in his death agonies. As his groans were so piteous, I refrained from a useless sacrifice of life, and left the amphibious horde in peace. A little knowledge concerning these uncouth inmates of the African waters was gained even during the few minutes we were delayed at the ferry. When undisturbed by foreign sounds, they congregate in shallow water on the sand bars, with the fore half of their bodies exposed to the warm sunshine, and are in appearance, when thus somnolently reposing, very like a herd of enormous swine. When startled by the noise of an intruder, they plunge hastily into the depths, lashing the waters into a yellowish foam, and scatter themselves below the surface, when presently the heads of a few reappear, snorting the water from their nostrils, to take a fresh breath and a cautious scrutiny around them; when thus, we see but their ears, forehead, eyes and nostrils, and as they hastily submerge again it requires a steady wrist and a quick hand to shoot them. I have heard several comparisons made of their appearance while floating in this manner: some Arabs told me before I had seen them that they looked like dead trees carried down the river; others, who in some country had seen hogs, thought they resembled them, but to my mind they look more like horses when swimming their curved necks and pointed ears, their wide eyes and expanded nostrils, favor greatly this comparison. At night they seek the shore, and wander several miles over the country, luxuriating among its rank grasses. To within four miles of the town of Bagamoyo (the Kingani is eight miles distant) their wide tracks are seen. Frequently, if not disturbed by the startling human voice, they make a raid on the rich corn-stalks of the native cultivators, and a dozen of them will in a few minutes make a frightful havoc in a large field of this plant. Consequently, we were not surprised, while delayed at the ferry, to hear the owners of the corn venting loud halloos, like the rosy-cheeked farmer boys in England when scaring the crows away from the young wheat. The caravan in the meanwhile had crossed safely--bales, baggage, donkeys, and men. I had thought to have camped on the bank, so as to amuse myself with shooting antelope, and also for the sake of procuring their meat, in order to save my goats, of which I had a number constituting my live stock of provisions; but, thanks to the awe and dread which my men entertained of the hippopotami, I was hurried on to the outpost of the Baluch garrison at Bagamoyo, a small village called Kikoka, distant four miles from the river. The western side of the river was a considerable improvement upon the eastern. The plain, slowly heaving upwards, as smoothly as the beach of a watering-place, for the distance of a mile, until it culminated in a gentle and rounded ridge, presented none of those difficulties which troubled us on the other side. There were none of those cataclysms of mire and sloughs of black mud and over-tall grasses, none of that miasmatic jungle with its noxious emissions; it was just such a scene as one may find before an English mansion--a noble expanse of lawn and sward, with boscage sufficient to agreeably diversify it. After traversing the open plain, the road led through a grove of young ebony trees, where guinea-fowls and a hartebeest were seen; it then wound, with all the characteristic eccentric curves of a goat-path, up and down a succession of land-waves crested by the dark green foliage of the mango, and the scantier and lighter-coloured leaves of the enormous calabash. The depressions were filled with jungle of more or less density, while here and there opened glades, shadowed even during noon by thin groves of towering trees. At our approach fled in terror flocks of green pigeons, jays, ibis, turtledoves, golden pheasants, quails and moorhens, with crows and hawks, while now and then a solitary pelican winged its way to the distance. Nor was this enlivening prospect without its pairs of antelope, and monkeys which hopped away like Australian kangaroos; these latter were of good size, with round bullet heads, white breasts, and long tails tufted at the end. We arrived at Kikoka by 5 P.M., having loaded and unloaded our pack animals four times, crossing one deep puddle, a mud sluice, and a river, and performed a journey of eleven miles. The settlement of Kikoka is a collection of straw huts; not built after any architectural style, but after a bastard form, invented by indolent settlers from the Mrima and Zanzibar for the purpose of excluding as much sunshine as possible from the eaves and interior. A sluice and some wells provide them with water, which though sweet is not particularly wholesome or appetizing, owing to the large quantities of decayed matter which is washed into it by the rains, and is then left to corrupt in it. A weak effort has been made to clear the neighbourhood for providing a place for cultivation, but to the dire task of wood-chopping and jungle-clearing the settlers prefer occupying an open glade, which they clear of grass, so as to be able to hoe up two or three inches of soil, into which they cast their seed, confident of return. The next day was a halt at Kikoka; the fourth caravan, consisting solely of Wanyamwezi, proving a sore obstacle to a rapid advance. Maganga, its chief, devised several methods of extorting more cloth and presents from me, he having cost already more than any three chiefs together; but his efforts were of no avail further than obtaining promises of reward if he would hurry on to Unyanyembe so that I might find my road clear. On the 2(7?)th, the Wanyamwezi having started, we broke camp soon after at 7 am. The country was of the same nature as that lying between the Kingani and Kikokaa park land, attractive and beautiful in every feature. I rode in advance to secure meat should a chance present itself, but not the shadow of vert or venison did I see. Ever in our front--westerly--rolled the land-waves, now rising, now subsiding, parallel one with the other, like a ploughed field many times magnified. Each ridge had its knot of jungle or its thin combing of heavily foliaged trees, until we arrived close to Rosako, our next halting place, when the monotonous wavure of the land underwent a change, breaking into independent hummocks clad with dense jungle. On one of these, veiled by an impenetrable jungle of thorny acacia, rested Rosako; girt round by its natural fortification, neighbouring another village to the north of it similarly protected. Between them sank a valley extremely fertile and bountiful in its productions, bisected by a small stream, which serves as a drain to the valley or low hills surrounding it. Rosako is the frontier village of Ukwere, while Kikoka is the north-western extremity of Uzaramo. We entered this village, and occupied its central portion with our tents and animals. A kitanda, or square light bedstead, without valance, fringe, or any superfluity whatever, but nevertheless quite as comfortable as with them, was brought to my tent for my use by the village chief. The animals were, immediately after being unloaded, driven out to feed, and the soldiers to a man set to work to pile the baggage up, lest the rain, which during the Masika season always appears imminent, might cause irreparable damage. Among other experiments which I was about to try in Africa was that of a good watch-dog on any unmannerly people who would insist upon coming into my tent at untimely hours and endangering valuables. Especially did I wish to try the effect of its bark on the mighty Wagogo, who, I was told by certain Arabs, would lift the door of the tent and enter whether you wished them or not; who would chuckle at the fear they inspired, and say to you, "Hi, hi, white man, I never saw the like of you before; are there many more like you? where do you come from?" Also would they take hold of your watch and ask you with a cheerful curiosity, "What is this for, white man?" to which you of course would reply that it was to tell you the hour and minute. But the Mgogo, proud of his prowess, and more unmannerly than a brute, would answer you with a snort of insult. I thought of a watch-dog, and procured a good one at Bombay not only as a faithful companion, but to threaten the heels of just such gentry. But soon after our arrival at Rosako it was found that the dog, whose name was "Omar," given him from his Turkish origin, was missing; he had strayed away from the soldiers during a rain-squall and had got lost. I despatched Mabruki Burton back to Kikoka to search for him. On the following morning, just as we were about to leave Rosako, the faithful fellow returned with the lost dog, having found him at Kikoka. Previous to our departure on the morning after this, Maganga, chief of the fourth caravan, brought me the unhappy report that three of his pagazis were sick, and he would like to have some "dowa"--medicine. Though not a doctor, or in any way connected with the profession, I had a well-supplied medicine chest--without which no traveller in Africa could live--for just such a contingency as was now present. On visiting Maganga's sick men, I found one suffering from inflammation of the lungs, another from the mukunguru (African intermittent). They all imagined themselves about to die, and called loudly for "Mama!" "Mama!" though they were all grown men. It was evident that the fourth caravan could not stir that day, so leaving word with Magauga to hurry after me as soon as possible, I issued orders for the march of my own. Excepting in the neighbourhood of the villages which we have passed there were no traces of cultivation. The country extending between the several stations is as much a wilderness as the desert of Sahara, though it possesses a far more pleasing aspect. Indeed, had the first man at the time of the Creation gazed at his world and perceived it of the beauty which belongs to this part of Africa, he would have had no cause of complaint. In the deep thickets, set like islets amid a sea of grassy verdure, he would have found shelter from the noonday heat, and a safe retirement for himself and spouse during the awesome darkness. In the morning he could have walked forth on the sloping sward, enjoyed its freshness, and performed his ablutions in one of the many small streams flowing at its foot. His garden of fruit-trees is all that is required; the noble forests, deep and cool, are round about him, and in their shade walk as many animals as one can desire. For days and days let a man walk in any direction, north, south, east, and west, and he will behold the same scene. Earnestly as I wished to hurry on to Unyanyembe, still a heart-felt anxiety about the arrival of my goods carried by the fourth caravan, served as a drag upon me and before my caravan had marched nine miles my anxiety had risen to the highest pitch, and caused me to order a camp there and then. The place selected for it was near a long straggling sluice, having an abundance of water during the rainy season, draining as it does two extensive slopes. No sooner had we pitched our camp, built a boma of thorny acacia, and other tree branches, by stacking them round our camp, and driven our animals to grass; than we were made aware of the formidable number and variety of the insect tribe, which for a time was another source of anxiety, until a diligent examination of the several species dispelled it. As it was a most interesting hunt which I instituted for the several specimens of the insects, I here append the record of it for what it is worth. My object in obtaining these specimens was to determine whether the genus _Glossina morsitans_ of the naturalist, or the tsetse (sometimes called setse) of Livingstone, Vardon, and Gumming, said to be deadly to horses, was amongst them. Up to this date I had been nearly two months in East Africa, and had as yet seen no tsetse; and my horses, instead of becoming emaciated--for such is one of the symptoms of a tsetse bite--had considerably improved in condition. There were three different species of flies which sought shelter in my tent, which, unitedly, kept up a continual chorus of sounds--one performed the basso profondo, another a tenor, and the third a weak contralto. The first emanated from a voracious and fierce fly, an inch long, having a ventral capacity for blood quite astonishing. This larger fly was the one chosen for the first inspection, which was of the intensest. I permitted one to alight on my flannel pyjamas, which I wore while en deshabille in camp. No sooner had he alighted than his posterior was raised, his head lowered, and his weapons, consisting of four hair-like styles, unsheathed from the proboscis-like bag which concealed them, and immediately I felt pain like that caused by a dexterous lancet-cut or the probe of a fine needle. I permitted him to gorge himself, though my patience and naturalistic interest were sorely tried. I saw his abdominal parts distend with the plenitude of the repast until it had swollen to three times its former shrunken girth, when he flew away of his own accord laden with blood. On rolling up my flannel pyjamas to see the fountain whence the fly had drawn the fluid, I discovered it to be a little above the left knee, by a crimson bead resting over the incision. After wiping the blood the wound was similar to that caused by a deep thrust of a fine needle, but all pain had vanished with the departure of the fly. Having caught a specimen of this fly, I next proceeded to institute a comparison between it and the tsetse, as described by Dr. Livingstone on pp. 56-57, 'Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa' (Murray's edition of 1868). The points of disagreement are many, and such as to make it entirely improbable that this fly is the true tsetse, though my men unanimously stated that its bite was fatal to horses as well as to donkeys. A descriptive abstract of the tsetse would read thus: "Not much larger than a common house-fly, nearly of the same brown colour as the honey-bee. After-part of the body has yellow bars across it. It has a peculiar buzz, and its bite is death to the horse, ox, and dog. On man the bite has no effect, neither has it on wild animals. When allowed to feed on the hand, it inserts the middle prong of three portions into which the proboscis divides, it then draws the prong out a little way, and it assumes a crimson colour as the mandibles come into brisk operation; a slight itching irritation follows the bite." The fly which I had under inspection is called mabunga by the natives. It is much larger than the common housefly, fully a third larger than the common honey-bee, and its colour more distinctly marked; its head is black, with a greenish gloss to it; the after-part of the body is marked by a white line running lengthwise from its junction with the trunk, and on each side of this white line are two other lines, one of a crimson colour, the other of a light brown. As for its buzz, there is no peculiarity in it, it might be mistaken for that of a honey-bee. When caught it made desperate efforts to get away, but never attempted to bite. This fly, along with a score of others, attacked my grey horse, and bit it so sorely in the legs that they appeared as if bathed in blood. Hence, I might have been a little vengeful if, with more than the zeal of an entomologist, I caused it to disclose whatever peculiarities its biting parts possessed. In order to bring this fly as life-like as possible before my readers, I may compare its head to most tiny miniature of an elephant's, because it has a black proboscis and a pair of horny antennae, which in colour and curve resemble tusks. The black proboscis, however, the simply a hollow sheath, which encloses, when not in the act of biting, four reddish and sharp lancets. Under the microscope these four lancets differ in thickness, two are very thick, the third is slender, but the fourth, of an opal colour and almost transparent, is exceedingly fine. This last must be the sucker. When the fly is about to wound, the two horny antennae are made to embrace the part, the lancets are unsheathed, and on the instant the incision is performed. This I consider to be the African "horse-fly." The second fly, which sang the tenor notes more nearly resembled in size and description the tsetse. It was exceedingly nimble, and it occupied three soldiers nearly an hour to capture a specimen; and, when it was finally caught, it stung most ravenously the hand, and never ceased its efforts to attack until it was pinned through. It had three or four white marks across the after-part of its body; but the biting parts of this fly consisted of two black antennae and an opal coloured style, which folded away under the neck. When about to bite, this style was shot out straight, and the antennae embraced it closely. After death the fly lost its distinctive white marks. Only one of this species did we see at this camp. The third fly, called "chufwa," pitched a weak alto-crescendo note, was a third larger than the house fly, and had long wings. If this insect sang the feeblest note, it certainly did the most work, and inflicted the most injury. Horses and donkeys streamed with blood, and reared and kicked through the pain. So determined was it not to be driven before it obtained its fill, that it was easily despatched; but this dreadful enemy to cattle constantly increased in numbers. The three species above named are, according to natives, fatal to cattle; and this may perhaps be the reason why such a vast expanse of first-class pasture is without domestic cattle of any kind, a few goats only being kept by the villagers. This fly I subsequently found to be the "tsetse." On the second morning, instead of proceeding, I deemed it more prudent to await the fourth caravan. Burton experimented sufficiently for me on the promised word of the Banyans of Kaole and Zanzibar, and waited eleven months before he received the promised articles. As I did not expect to be much over that time on my errand altogether, it would be ruin, absolute and irremediable, should I be detained at Unyanyembe so long a time by my caravan. Pending its arrival, I sought the pleasures of the chase. I was but a tyro in hunting, I confess, though I had shot a little on the plains of America and Persia; yet I considered myself a fair shot, and on game ground, and within a reasonable proximity to game, I doubted not but I could bring some to camp. After a march of a mile through the tall grass of the open, we gained the glades between the jungles. Unsuccessful here, after ever so much prying into fine hiding-places and lurking corners, I struck a trail well traversed by small antelope and hartebeest, which we followed. It led me into a jungle, and down a watercourse bisecting it; but, after following it for an hour, I lost it, and, in endeavouring to retrace it, lost my way. However, my pocket-compass stood me in good stead; and by it I steered for the open plain, in the centre of which stood the camp. But it was terribly hard work--this of plunging through an African jungle, ruinous to clothes, and trying to the cuticle. In order to travel quickly, I had donned a pair of flannel pyjamas, and my feet were encased in canvas shoes. As might be expected, before I had gone a few paces a branch of the acacia horrida--only one of a hundred such annoyances--caught the right leg of my pyjamas at the knee, and ripped it almost clean off; succeeding which a stumpy kolquall caught me by the shoulder, and another rip was the inevitable consequence. A few yards farther on, a prickly aloetic plant disfigured by a wide tear the other leg of my pyjamas, and almost immediately I tripped against a convolvulus strong as ratline, and was made to measure my length on a bed of thorns. It was on all fours, like a hound on a scent, that I was compelled to travel; my solar topee getting the worse for wear every minute; my skin getting more and more wounded; my clothes at each step becoming more and more tattered. Besides these discomforts, there was a pungent, acrid plant which, apart from its strong odorous emissions, struck me smartly on the face, leaving a burning effect similar to cayenne; and the atmosphere, pent in by the density of the jungle, was hot and stifling, and the perspiration transuded through every pore, making my flannel tatters feel as if I had been through a shower. When I had finally regained the plain, and could breathe free, I mentally vowed that the penetralia of an African jungle should not be visited by me again, save under most urgent necessity. The second and third day passed without any news of Maganga. Accordingly, Shaw and Bombay were sent to hurry him up by all means. On the fourth morning Shaw and Bombay returned, followed by the procrastinating Maganga and his laggard people. Questions only elicited an excuse that his men had been too sick, and he had feared to tax their strength before they were quite equal to stand the fatigue. Moreover he suggested that as they would be compelled to stay one day more at the camp, I might push on to Kingaru and camp there, until his arrival. Acting upon which suggestion I broke camp and started for Kingaru, distant five miles. On this march the land was more broken, and the caravan first encountered jungle, which gave considerable trouble to our cart. Pisolitic limestone cropped out in boulders and sheets, and we began to imagine ourselves approaching healthy highlands, and as if to give confirmation to the thought, to the north and north-west loomed the purple cones of Udoe, and topmost of all Dilima Peak, about 1,500 feet in height above the sea level. But soon after sinking into a bowl-like valley, green with tall corn, the road slightly deviated from north-west to west, the country still rolling before us in wavy undulations. In one of the depressions between these lengthy land-swells stood the village of Kingaru, with surroundings significant in their aspect of ague and fever. Perhaps the clouds surcharged with rain, and the overhanging ridges and their dense forests dulled by the gloom, made the place more than usually disagreeable, but my first impressions of the sodden hollow, pent in by those dull woods, with the deep gully close by containing pools of stagnant water, were by no means agreeable. Before we could arrange our camp and set the tents up, down poured the furious harbinger of the Masika season in torrents sufficient to damp the ardor and newborn love for East Africa I had lately manifested. However, despite rain, we worked on until our camp was finished and the property was safely stored from weather and thieves, and we could regard with resignation the raindrops beating the soil into mud of a very tenacious kind, and forming lakelets and rivers of our camp-ground. Towards night, the scene having reached its acme of unpleasantness, the rain ceased, and the natives poured into camp from the villages in the woods with their vendibles. Foremost among these, as if in duty bound, came the village sultan--lord, chief, or head--bearing three measures of matama and half a measure of rice, of which he begged, with paternal smiles, my acceptance. But under his smiling mask, bleared eyes, and wrinkled front was visible the soul of trickery, which was of the cunningest kind. Responding under the same mask adopted by this knavish elder, I said, "The chief of Kingaru has called me a rich sultan. If I am a rich sultan why comes not the chief with a rich present to me, that he might get a rich return?" Said he, with another leer of his wrinkled visage, "Kingaru is poor, there is no matama in the village." To which I replied that since there was no matama in the village I would pay him half a shukka, or a yard of cloth, which would be exactly equivalent to his present; that if he preferred to call his small basketful a present, I should be content to call my yard of cloth a present. With which logic he was fain to be satisfied. April 1st.--To-day the Expedition suffered a loss in the death of the grey Arab horse presented by Seyd Burghash, Sultan of Zanzibar. The night previous I had noticed that the horse was suffering. Bearing in mind what has been so frequently asserted, namely, that no horses could live in the interior of Africa because of the tsetse, I had him opened, and the stomach, which I believed to be diseased, examined. Besides much undigested matama and grass there were found twenty-five short, thick, white worms, sticking like leeches into the coating of the stomach, while the intestines were almost alive with the numbers of long white worms. I was satisfied that neither man nor beast could long exist with such a mass of corrupting life within him. In order that the dead carcase might not taint the valley, I had it buried deep in the ground, about a score of yards from the encampment. From such a slight cause ensued a tremendous uproar from Kingaru--chief of the village--who, with his brother-chiefs of neighbouring villages, numbering in the aggregate two dozen wattled huts, had taken counsel upon the best means of mulcting the Musungu of a full doti or two of Merikani, and finally had arrived at the conviction that the act of burying a dead horse in their soil without "By your leave, sir," was a grievous and fineable fault. Affecting great indignation at the unpardonable omission, he, Kingaru, concluded to send to the Musungu four of his young men to say to him that "since you have buried your horse in my ground, it is well; let him remain there; but you must pay me two doti of Merikani." For reply the messengers were told to say to the chief that I would prefer talking the matter over with himself face to face, if he would condescend to visit me in my tent once again. As the village was but a stone's throw from our encampment, before many minutes had elapsed the wrinkled elder made his appearance at the door of my tent with about half the village behind him. The following dialogue which took place will serve to illustrate the tempers of the people with whom I was about to have a year's trading intercourse: White Man.--"Are you the great chief of Kingaru?" Kingaru.--"Huh-uh. Yes." W. M.--"The great, great chief?" Kingaru.--"Huh-uh. Yes." W. M.--"How many soldiers have you?" Kingaru.--" Why?" W. M.--"How many fighting men have you?" Kingaru.--"None." W. M.--"Oh! I thought you might have a thousand men with you, by your going to fine a strong white man, who has plenty of guns and soldiers, two doti for burying a dead horse." Kingaru (rather perplexed).--"No; I have no soldiers. I have only a few young men." W. M.--"Why do you come and make trouble, then?" Kingaru.--"It was not I; it was my brothers who said to me, 'Come here, come here, Kingaru, see what the white man has done! Has he not taken possession of your soil, in that he has put his horse into your ground without your permission? Come, go to him and see by what right.' Therefore have I come to ask you, who gave you permission to use my soil for a burying-ground?" W. M. "I want no man's permission to do what is right. My horse died; had I left him to fester and stink in your valley, sickness would visit your village, your water would become unwholesome, and caravans would not stop here for trade; for they would say, 'This is an unlucky spot, let us go away.' But enough said: I understand you to say that you do not want him buried in your ground; the error I have fallen into is easily put right. This minute my soldiers shall dig him out again, and cover up the soil as it was before; and the horse shall be left where he died." (Then shouting to Bombay.) "Ho! Bombay, take soldiers with jembes to dig my horse out of the ground, drag him to where he died, and make everything ready for a march to-morrow morning." Kingaru, his voice considerably higher, and his head moving to and fro with emotion, cries out, "Akuna, akuna, bana!"--"No, no, master! Let not the white man get angry. The horse is dead, and now lies buried; let him remain so, since he is already there, and let us be friends again." The Sheikh of Kingaru being thus brought to his senses, we bid each other the friendly "Kwaheri," and I was left alone to ruminate over my loss. Barely half an hour had elapsed, it was 9 P.M., the camp was in a semi-doze, when I heard deep groans issuing from one of the animals. Upon inquiry as to what animal was suffering, I was surprised to hear that it was my bay horse. With a bull's-eye lantern, I visited him, and perceived that the pain was located in the stomach, but whether it was from some poisonous plant he had eaten while out grazing, or from some equine disease, I did not know. He discharged copious quantities of loose matter, but there was nothing peculiar in its colour. The pain was evidently very great, for his struggles were very violent. I was up all night, hoping that it was but a temporary effect of some strange and noxious plant; but at 6 o'clock the next morning, after a short period of great agony, he also died; exactly fifteen hours after his companion. When the stomach was opened, it was found that death was caused by the internal rupture of a large cancer, which had affected the larger half of the coating of his stomach, and had extended an inch or two up the larynx. The contents of the stomach and intestines were deluged with the yellow viscous efflux from the cancer. I was thus deprived of both my horses, and that within the short space of fifteen hours. With my limited knowledge of veterinary science, however, strengthened by the actual and positive proofs obtained by the dissection of the two stomachs, I can scarcely state that horses can live to reach Unyanyembe, or that they can travel with ease through this part of East Africa. But should I have occasion at some future day, I should not hesitate to take four horses with me, though I should certainly endeavour to ascertain previous to purchase whether they, were perfectly sound and healthy, and to those travellers who cherish a good horse I would say, "Try one," and be not discouraged by my unfortunate experiences. The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd of April passed, and nothing had we heard or seen of the ever-lagging fourth caravan. In the meanwhile the list of casualties was being augmented. Besides the loss of this precious time, through the perverseness of the chief of the other caravan, and the loss of my two horses, a pagazi carrying boat-fixtures improved the opportunity, and deserted. Selim was struck down with a severe attack of ague and fever, and was soon after followed by the cook, then by the assistant cook and tailor, Abdul Kader. Finally, before the third day was over, Bombay had rheumatism, Uledi (Grant's old valet) had a swollen throat, Zaidi had the flux, Kingaru had the mukunguru; Khamisi, a pagazi, suffered from a weakness of the loins; Farjalla had a bilious fever; and before night closed Makoviga was very ill. Out of a force of twenty-five men one had deserted, and ten were on the sick list, and the presentiment that the ill-looking neighbourhood of Kingaru would prove calamitous to me was verified. On the 4th April Maganga and his people appeared, after being heralded by musketry-shots and horn-blowing, the usual signs of an approaching caravan in this land. His sick men were considerably improved, but they required one more day of rest at Kingaru. In the afternoon he came to lay siege to my generosity, by giving details of Soor Hadji Palloo's heartless cheats upon him; but I informed him, that since I had left Bagamoyo, I could no longer be generous; we were now in a land where cloth was at a high premium; that I had no more cloth than I should need to furnish food for myself and men; that he and his caravan had cost me more money and trouble than any three caravans I had, as indeed was the case. With this counter-statement he was obliged to be content. But I again solved his pecuniary doubts by promising that, if he hurried his caravan on to Unyanyembe, he should have no cause of complaint. The 5th of April saw the fourth caravan vanish for once in our front, with a fair promise that, however fast we should follow, we should not see them the hither side of Sinbamwenni. The following morning, in order to rouse my people from the sickened torpitude they had lapsed into, I beat an exhilarating alarum on a tin pan with an iron ladle, intimating that a sofari was about to be undertaken. This had a very good effect, judging from the extraordinary alacrity with which it was responded to. Before the sun rose we started. The Kingaru villagers were out with the velocity of hawks for any rags or refuse left behind us. The long march to Imbiki, fifteen miles, proved that our protracted stay at Kingaru had completely demoralized my soldiers and pagazis. Only a few of them had strength enough to reach Imbiki before night. The others, attending the laden donkeys, put in an appearance next morning, in a lamentable state of mind and body. Khamisi--the pagazi with the weak loins--had deserted, taking with him two goats, the property tent, and the whole of Uledi's personal wealth, consisting of his visiting dish-dasheh--a long shirt of the Arabic pattern, 10 lbs. of beads, and a few fine cloths, which Uledi, in a generous fit, had intrusted to him, while he carried the pagazi's load, 70 lbs. of Bubu beads. This defalcation was not to be overlooked, nor should Khamisi be permitted to return without an effort to apprehend him. Accordingly Uledi and Ferajji were despatched in pursuit while we rested at Imbiki, in order to give the dilapidated soldiers and animals time to recruit. On the 8th we continued our journey, and arrived at Msuwa. This march will be remembered by our caravan as the most fatiguing of all, though the distance was but ten miles. It was one continuous jungle, except three interjacent glades of narrow limits, which gave us three breathing pauses in the dire task of jungle travelling. The odour emitted from its fell plants was so rank, so pungently acrid, and the miasma from its decayed vegetation so dense, that I expected every moment to see myself and men drop down in paroxysms of acute fever. Happily this evil was not added to that of loading and unloading the frequently falling packs. Seven soldiers to attend seventeen laden donkeys were entirely too small a number while passing through a jungle; for while the path is but a foot wide, with a wall of thorny plants and creepers bristling on each side, and projecting branches darting across it, with knots of spikey twigs stiff as spike-nails, ready to catch and hold anything above four feet in height, it is but reasonable to suppose that donkeys standing four feet high, with loads measuring across from bale to bale four feet, would come to grief. This grief was of frequent recurrence here, causing us to pause every few minutes for re-arrangements. So often had this task to be performed, that the men got perfectly discouraged, and had to bespoken to sharply before they set to work. By the time I reached Msuwa there was nobody with me and the ten donkeys I drove but Mabruk the Little, who, though generally stolid, stood to his work like a man. Bombay and Uledi were far behind, with the most jaded donkeys. Shaw was in charge of the cart, and his experiences were most bitter, as he informed me he had expended a whole vocabulary of stormy abuse known to sailors, and a new one which he had invented ex tempore. He did not arrive until two o'clock next morning, and was completely worn out. Another halt was fixed at Msuwa, that we and our animals might recuperate. The chief of the village, a white man in everything but colour, sent me and mine the fattest broad-tailed sheep of his flock, with five measures of matama grain. The mutton was excellent, unapproachable. For his timely and needful present I gave him two doti, and amused him with an exhibition of the wonderful mechanism of the Winchester rifle, and my breechloading revolvers. He and his people were intelligent enough to comprehend the utility of these weapons at an emergency, and illustrated in expressive pantomime the powers they possessed against numbers of people armed only with spears and bows, by extending their arms with an imaginary gun and describing a clear circle. "Verily," said they, "the Wasungu are far wiser than the Washensi. What heads they have! What wonderful things they make! Look at their tents, their guns, their time-pieces, their clothes, and that little rolling thing (the cart) which carries more than five men,---que!" On the 10th, recovered from the excessive strain of the last march, the caravan marched out of Msuwa, accompanied by the hospitable villagers as far as their stake defence, receiving their unanimous "Kwaheris." Outside the village the march promised to be less arduous than between Imbiki and Msuwa. After crossing a beautiful little plain intersected by a dry gully or mtoni, the route led by a few cultivated fields, where the tillers greeted us with one grand unwinking stare, as if fascinated. Soon after we met one of those sights common in part of the world, to wit a chain slave-gang, bound east. The slaves did not appear to be in any way down-hearted on the contrary, they seemed imbued with the philosophic jollity of the jolly servant of Martin Chuzzlewit. Were it not for their chains, it would have been difficult to discover master from slave; the physiognomic traits were alike--the mild benignity with which we were regarded was equally visible on all faces. The chains were ponderous--they might have held elephants captive; but as the slaves carried nothing but themselves, their weight could not have been insupportable. The jungle was scant on this march, and though in some places the packs met with accidents, they were not such as seriously to retard progress. By 10 A.M. we were in camp in the midst of an imposing view of green sward and forest domed by a cloudless sky. We had again pitched our camp in the wilderness, and, as is the custom of caravans, fired two shots to warn any Washensi having grain to sell, that we were willing to trade. Our next halting-place was Kisemo, distant but eleven miles from Msuwa, a village situated in a populous district, having in its vicinity no less than five other villages, each fortified by stakes and thorny abattis, with as much fierce independence as if their petty lords were so many Percys and Douglasses. Each topped a ridge, or a low hummock, with an assumption of defiance of the cock-on-its-own-dunghill type. Between these humble eminences and low ridges of land wind narrow vales which are favored with the cultivation of matama and Indian corn. Behind the village flows the Ungerengeri River, an impetuous stream during the Masika season, capable of overflowing its steep banks, but in the dry season it subsides into its proper status, which is that of a small stream of very clear sweet water. Its course from Kisemo is south-west, then easterly; it is the main feeder of the Kingani River. The belles of Kisemo are noted for their vanity in brass wire, which is wound in spiral rings round their wrists and ankles, and the varieties of style which their hispid heads exhibit; while their poor lords, obliged to be contented with dingy torn clouts and split ears, show what wide sway Asmodeus holds over this terrestrial sphere--for it must have been an unhappy time when the hard-besieged husbands finally gave way before their spouses. Besides these brassy ornaments on their extremities, and the various hair-dressing styles, the women of Kisemo frequently wear lengthy necklaces, which run in rivers of colours down their bodies. A more comical picture is seldom presented than that of one of these highly-dressed females engaged in the homely and necessary task of grinding corn for herself and family. The grinding apparatus consists of two portions: one, a thick pole of hard wood about six feet long, answering for a pestle; the other, a capacious wooden mortar, three feet in height. While engaged in setting his tent, Shaw was obliged to move a small flat stone, to drive a peg into the ground. The village chief, who saw him do it, rushed up in a breathless fashion, and replaced the stone instantly, then stood on it in an impressive manner, indicative of the great importance attached to that stone and location. Bombay, seeing Shaw standing in silent wonder at the act, volunteered to ask the chief what was the matter. The Sheikh solemnly answered, with a finger pointing downward, "Uganga!" Whereupon I implored him to let me see what was under the stone. With a graciousness quite affecting he complied. My curiosity was gratified with the sight of a small whittled stick, which pinned fast to the ground an insect, the cause of a miscarriage to a young female of the village. During the afternoon, Uledi and Ferajji, who had been despatched after the truant Khamisi, returned with him and all the missing articles. Khamisi, soon after leaving the road and plunging into the jungle, where he was mentally triumphing in his booty, was met by some of the plundering Washensi, who are always on the qui vive for stragglers, and unceremoniously taken to their village in the woods, and bound to a tree preparatory, to being killed. Khamisi said that he asked them why they tied him up, to which they answered, that they were about to kill him, because he was a Mgwana, whom they were accustomed to kill as soon as they were caught. But Uledi and Ferajji shortly after coming upon the scene, both well armed, put an end to the debates upon Khamisi's fate, by claiming him as an absconding pagazi from the Musungu's camp, as well as all the articles he possessed at the time of capture. The robbers did not dispute the claim for the pagazi, goats, tent, or any other valuable found with him, but intimated that they deserved a reward for apprehending him. The demand being considered just, a reward to the extent of two doti and a fundo, or ten necklaces of beads, was given. Khamisi, for his desertion and attempted robbery, could not be pardoned without first suffering punishment. He had asked at Bagamoyo, before enlisting in my service, an advance of $5 in money, and had received it, and a load of Bubu beads, no heavier than a pagazis load, had been given him to carry; he had, therefore, no excuse for desertion. Lest I should overstep prudence, however, in punishing him, I convened a court of eight pagazis and four soldiers to sit in judgment, and asked them to give me their decision as to what should be done. Their unanimous verdict was that he was guilty of a crime almost unknown among the Wanyamwezi pagazis, and as it was likely to give bad repute to the Wanyamwezi carriers, they therefore sentenced him to be flogged with the "Great Master's" donkey whip, which was accordingly carried out, to poor Khamisi's crying sorrow. On the 12th the caravan reached Mussoudi, on the Ungerengeri river. Happily for our patient donkeys this march was free from all the annoying troubles of the jungle. Happily for ourselves also, for we had no more the care of the packs and the anxiety about arriving at camp before night. The packs once put firmly on the backs of our good donkeys, they marched into camp--the road being excellent--without a single displacement or cause for one impatient word, soon after leaving Kisemo. A beautiful prospect, glorious in its wild nature, fragrant with its numerous flowers and variety of sweetly-smelling shrubs, among which I recognised the wild sage, the indigo plant, &c., terminated only at the foot of Kira Peak and sister cones, which mark the boundaries between Udoe and Ukami, yet distant twenty miles. Those distant mountains formed a not unfit background to this magnificent picture of open plain, forest patches, and sloping lawns--there was enough of picturesqueness and sublimity in the blue mountains to render it one complete whole. Suppose a Byron saw some of these scenes, he would be inclined to poetize in this manner: Morn dawns, and with it stern Udoe's hills, Dark Urrugum's rocks, and Kira's peak, Robed half in mist, bedewed with various rills, Arrayed in many a dun and purple streak. When drawing near the valley of Ungerengeri, granite knobs and protuberances of dazzling quartz showed their heads above the reddish soil. Descending the ridge where these rocks were prominent, we found ourselves in the sable loam deposit of the Ungerengeri, and in the midst of teeming fields of sugar-cane and matama, Indian corn, muhogo, and gardens of curry, egg, and cucumber plants. On the banks of the Ungerengeri flourished the banana, and overtopping it by seventy feet and more, shot up the stately mparamusi, the rival in beauty of the Persian chenar and Abyssinian plane. Its trunk is straight and comely enough for the mainmast of a first, class frigate, while its expanding crown of leafage is distinguished from all others by its density and vivid greenness. There were a score of varieties of the larger kind of trees, whose far-extending branches embraced across the narrow but swift river. The depressions of the valley and the immediate neighbourhood of the river were choked with young forests of tiger-grass and stiff reeds. Mussoudi is situated on a higher elevation than the average level of the village, and consequently looks down upon its neighbours, which number a hundred and more. It is the western extremity of Ukwere. On the western bank of the Ungerengeri the territory of the Wakami commences. We had to halt one day at Mussoudi because the poverty of the people prevented us from procuring the needful amount of grain. The cause of this scantiness in such a fertile and populous valley was, that the numerous caravans which had preceded us had drawn heavily for their stores for the upmarches. On the 14th we crossed the Ungerengeri, which here flows southerly to the southern extremity of the valley, where it bends easterly as far as Kisemo. After crossing the river here, fordable at all times and only twenty yards in breadth, we had another mile of the valley with its excessively moist soil and rank growth of grass. It then ascended into a higher elevation, and led through a forest of mparamusi, tamarind, tamarisk, acacia, and the blooming mimosa. This ascent was continued for two hours, when we stood upon the spine of the largest ridge, where we could obtain free views of the wooded plain below and the distant ridges of Kisemo, which we had but lately left. A descent of a few hundred feet terminated in a deep but dry mtoni with a sandy bed, on the other side of which we had to regain the elevation we had lost, and a similar country opened into view until we found a newly-made boma with well-built huts of grass rear a pool of water, which we at once occupied as a halting-place for the night. The cart gave us considerable trouble; not even our strongest donkey, though it carried with ease on its back 196 lbs., could draw the cart with a load of only 225 lbs. weight. Early on the morning of the 15th we broke camp and started for Mikeseh. By 8.30 A.M. we were ascending the southern face of the Kira Peak. When we had gained the height of two hundred feet above the level of the surrounding country, we were gratified with a magnificent view of a land whose soil knows no Sabbath. After travelling the spine of a ridge abutting against the southern slope of Kira we again descended into the little valley of Kiwrima, the first settlement we meet in Udoe, where there is always an abundant supply of water. Two miles west of Kiwrima is Mikiseh. On the 16th we reached Ulagalla after a few hours' march. Ulagalla is the name of a district, or a portion of a district, lying between the mountains of Uruguru, which bound it southerly, and the mountains of Udoe, lying northerly and parallel with them, and but ten miles apart. The principal part of the basin thus formed is called Ulagalla. Muhalleh is the next settlement, and here we found ourselves in the territory of the Waseguhha. On this march we were hemmed in by mountains--on our left by those of Uruguru, on our right by those of Udoe and Useguhha--a most agreeable and welcome change to us after the long miles of monotonous level we had hitherto seen. When tired of looking into the depths of the forest that still ran on either side of the road, we had but to look up to the mountain's base, to note its strange trees, its plants and vari-coloured flowers, we had but to raise our heads to vary this pleasant occupation by observing the lengthy and sinuous spine of the mountains, and mentally report upon their outline, their spurs, their projections and ravines, their bulging rocks and deep clefts, and, above all, the dark green woods clothing them from summit to base. And when our attention was not required for the mundane task of regarding the donkeys' packs, or the pace of the cautious-stepping pagazis, it was gratifying to watch the vapours play about the mountain summits--to see them fold into fleecy crowns and fantastic clusters, dissolve, gather together into a pall that threatened rain, and sail away again before the brightening sun. At Muhalleh was the fourth caravan under Maganga with three more sick men, who turned with eager eyes to myself, "the dispenser of medicine," as I approached. Salvos of small arms greeted me, and a present of rice and ears of Indian corn for roasting were awaiting my acceptance; but, as I told Maganga, I would have preferred to hear that his party were eight or ten marches ahead. At this camp, also, we met Salim bin Rashid, bound eastward, with a huge caravan carrying three hundred ivory tusks. This good Arab, besides welcoming the new comer with a present of rice, gave me news of Livingstone. He had met the old traveller at Ujiji, had lived in the next but to him for two weeks, described him as looking old, with long grey moustaches and beard, just recovered from severe illness, looking very wan; when fully recovered Livingstone intended to visit a country called Manyema by way of Marungu. The valley of the Ungerengeri with Muhalleh exhibits wonderful fertility. Its crops of matama were of the tallest, and its Indian corn would rival the best crops ever seen in the Arkansas bottoms. The numerous mountain-fed streams rendered the great depth of loam very sloppy, in consequence of which several accidents occurred before we reached the camp, such as wetting cloth, mildewing tea, watering sugar, and rusting tools; but prompt attention to these necessary things saved us from considerable loss. There was a slight difference noticed in the demeanour and bearing of the Waseguhha compared with the Wadoe, Wakami, and Wakwere heretofore seen. There was none of that civility we had been until now pleased to note: their express desire to barter was accompanied with insolent hints that we ought to take their produce at their own prices. If we remonstrated they became angry; retorting fiercely, impatient of opposition, they flew into a passion, and were glib in threats. This strange conduct, so opposite to that of the calm and gentle Wakwere, may be excellently illustrated by comparing the manner of the hot-headed Greek with that of the cool and collected German. Necessity compelled us to purchase eatables of them, and, to the credit of the country and its productions, be it said, their honey had the peculiar flavour of that of famed Hymettus. Following the latitudinal valley of the Ungerengeri, within two hours on the following morning we passed close under the wall of the capital of Useguhha--Simbamwenni. The first view of the walled town at the western foot of the Uruguru mountains, with its fine valley abundantly beautiful, watered by two rivers, and several pellucid streams of water distilled by the dew and cloud-enriched heights around, was one that we did not anticipate to meet in Eastern Africa. In Mazanderan, Persia, such a scene would have answered our expectations, but here it was totally unexpected. The town may contain a population of 3,000, having about 1,000 houses; being so densely crowded, perhaps 5,000 would more closely approximate. The houses in the town are eminently African, but of the best type of construction. The fortifications are on an Arabic Persic model--combining Arab neatness with Persian plan. Through a ride of 950 miles in Persia I never met a town outside of the great cities better fortified than Simbamwenni. In Persia the fortifications were of mud, even those of Kasvin, Teheran, Ispahan, and Shiraz; those of Simbamwenni are of stone, pierced with two rows of loopholes for musketry. The area of the town is about half a square mile, its plan being quadrangular. Well-built towers of stone guard each corner; four gates, one facing each cardinal point, and set half way between the several towers, permit ingress and egress for its inhabitants. The gates are closed with solid square doors made of African teak, and carved with the infinitesimally fine and complicated devices of the Arabs, from which I suspect that the doors were made either at Zanzibar or on the coast, and conveyed to Simbamwenni plank by plank; yet as there is much communication between Bagamoyo and Simbamwenni, it is just possible that native artisans are the authors of this ornate workmanship, as several doors chiselled and carved in the same manner, though not quite so elaborately, were visible in the largest houses. The palace of the Sultan is after the style of those on the coast, with long sloping roof, wide eaves, and veranda in front. The Sultana is the eldest daughter of the famous Kisabengo, a name infamous throughout the neighbouring countries of Udoe, Ukami, Ukwere, Kingaru, Ukwenni, and Kiranga-Wanna, for his kidnapping propensities. Kisabengo was another Theodore on a small scale. Sprung from humble ancestry, he acquired distinction for his personal strength, his powers of harangue, and his amusing and versatile address, by which he gained great ascendency over fugitive slaves, and was chosen a leader among them. Fleeing from justice, which awaited him at the hands of the Zanzibar Sultan, he arrived in Ukami, which extended at that time from Ukwere to Usagara, and here he commenced a career of conquest, the result of which was the cession by the Wakami of an immense tract of fertile country, in the valley of the Ungerengeri. On its most desirable site, with the river flowing close under the walls, he built his capital, and called it Simbamwenni, which means "The Lion," or the strongest, City. In old age the successful robber and kidnapper changed his name of Kisabengo, which had gained such a notoriety, to Simbamwenni, after his town; and when dying, after desiring that his eldest daughter should succeed him, he bestowed the name of the town upon her also, which name of Simbamwenni the Sultana now retains and is known by. While crossing a rapid stream, which, as I said before flowed close to the walls, the inhabitants of Simbamwenni had a fine chance of gratifying their curiosity of seeing the "Great Musungu," whose several caravans had preceded him, and who unpardonably, because unlicensed, had spread a report of his great wealth and power. I was thus the object of a universal stare. At one time on the banks there were considerably over a thousand natives going through the several tenses and moods of the verb "to stare," or exhibiting every phase of the substantive, viz.--the stare peremptory, insolent, sly, cunning, modest, and casual. The warriors of the Sultana, holding in one hand the spear, the bow, and sheaf or musket, embraced with the other their respective friends, like so many models of Nisus and Euryalus, Theseus and Pirithous, Damon and Pythias, or Achilles and Patroclus, to whom they confidentially related their divers opinions upon my dress and colour. The words "Musungu kuba" had as much charm for these people as the music of the Pied Piper had for the rats of Hamelin, since they served to draw from within the walls across their stream so large a portion of the population; and when I continued the journey to the Ungerengeri, distant four miles, I feared that the Hamelin catastrophe might have to be repeated before I could rid myself of them. But fortunately for my peace of mind, they finally proved vincible under the hot sun, and the distance we had to go to camp. As we were obliged to overhaul the luggage, and repair saddles, as well as to doctor a few of the animals, whose backs had by this time become very sore, I determined to halt here two days. Provisions were very plentiful also at Simbamwenni, though comparatively dear. On the second day I was, for the first time, made aware that my acclimatization in the ague-breeding swamps of Arkansas was powerless against the mukunguru of East Africa. The premonitory symptoms of the African type were felt in my system at 10 A.M. First, general lassitude prevailed, with a disposition to drowsiness; secondly, came the spinal ache which, commencing from the loins, ascended the vertebrae, and extended around the ribs, until it reached the shoulders, where it settled into a weary pain; thirdly came a chilliness over the whole body, which was quickly followed by a heavy head, swimming eyes, and throbbing temples, with vague vision, which distorted and transformed all objects of sight. This lasted until 10 P.M., and the mukunguru left me, much prostrated in strength. The remedy, applied for three mornings in succession after the attack, was such as my experience in Arkansas had taught me was the most powerful corrective, viz., a quantum of fifteen grains of quinine, taken in three doses of five grains each, every other hour from dawn to meridian--the first dose to be taken immediately after the first effect of the purging medicine taken at bedtime the night previous. I may add that this treatment was perfectly successful in my case, and in all others which occurred in my camp. After the mukunguru had declared itself, there was no fear, with such a treatment of it, of a second attack, until at least some days afterwards. On the third day the camp was visited by the ambassadors of Her Highness the Sultana of Simbamwenni, who came as her representatives to receive the tribute which she regards herself as powerful enough to enforce. But they, as well as Madame Simbamwenni, were informed, that as we knew it was their custom to charge owners of caravans but one tribute, and as they remembered the Musungu (Farquhar) had paid already, it was not fair that I should have to pay again. The ambassadors replied with a "Ngema" (very well), and promised to carry my answer back to their mistress. Though it was by no means "very well" in fact, as it will be seen in a subsequent chapter how the female Simbamwenni took advantage of an adverse fortune which befell me to pay herself. With this I close the chapter of incidents experienced during our transit across the maritime region. CHAPTER VI. -- TO UGOGO. A valley of despond, and hot-bed of malaria.--Myriads of vermin.--The Makata swamp.--A sorrowful experience catching a deserter.--A far-embracing prospect.--Illness of William Farquhar.-Lake Ugombo.--A land of promise.--The great Kisesa.--The plague of earwigs. The distance from Bagamoyo to Simbamwenni we found to be 119 miles, and was accomplished in fourteen marches. But these marches, owing to difficulties arising from the Masika season, and more especially to the lagging of the fourth caravan under Maganga, extended to twenty-nine days, thus rendering our progress very slow indeed--but a little more than four miles a-day. I infer, from what I have seen of the travelling, that had I not been encumbered by the sick Wanyamwezi porters, I could have accomplished the distance in sixteen days. For it was not the donkeys that proved recreant to my confidence; they, poor animals, carrying a weight of 150 lbs. each, arrived at Simbamwenni in first-rate order; but it was Maganga, composed of greed and laziness, and his weakly-bodied tribe, who were ever falling sick. In dry weather the number of marches might have been much reduced. Of the half-dozen of Arabs or so who preceded this Expedition along this route, two accomplished the entire distance in eight days. From the brief descriptions given of the country, as it day by day expanded to our view, enough may be gleaned to give readers a fair idea of it. The elevation of Simbamwenni cannot be much over 1,000 feet above the level, the rise of the land having been gradual. It being the rainy season, about which so many ominous statements were doled out to us by those ignorant of the character of the country, we naturally saw it under its worst aspect; but, even in this adverse phase of it, with all its depth of black mud, its excessive dew, its dripping and chill grass, its density of rank jungle, and its fevers, I look back upon the scene with pleasure, for the wealth and prosperity it promises to some civilized nation, which in some future time will come and take possession of it. A railroad from Bagamoyo to Simbamwenni might be constructed with as much ease and rapidity as, and at far less cost than the Union Pacific Railway, whose rapid strides day by day towards completion the world heard of and admired. A residence in this part of Africa, after a thorough system of drainage had been carried out, would not be attended with more discomfort than generally follows upon the occupation of new land. The temperature at this season during the day never exceeded 85 degrees Fahrenheit. The nights were pleasant--too cold without a pair of blankets for covering; and, as far as Simbamwenni, they were without that pest which is so dreadful on the Nebraska and Kansas prairies, the mosquito. The only annoyances I know of that would tell hard on the settler is the determined ferocity of the mabungu, or horse-fly; the chufwa, &c., already described, which, until the dense forests and jungles were cleared, would be certain to render the keeping of domestic cattle unremunerative. Contrary to expectation the Expedition was not able to start at the end of two days; the third and the fourth days were passed miserably enough in the desponding valley of Ungerengeri. This river, small as it is in the dry seasons, becomes of considerable volume and power during the Masika, as we experienced to our sorrow. It serves as a drain to a score of peaks and two long ranges of mountains; winding along their base, it is the recipient of the cascades seen flashing during the few intervals of sunlight, of all the nullahs and ravines which render the lengthy frontage of the mountain slopes so rugged and irregular, until it glides into the valley of Simbamwenni a formidable body of water, opposing a serious obstacle to caravans without means to build bridges; added to which was an incessant downfall of rain--such a rain as shuts people in-doors and renders them miserable and unamiable--a real London rain--an eternal drizzle accompanied with mist and fog. When the sun shone it appeared but a pale image of itself, and old pagazis, wise in their traditions as old whaling captains, shook their heads ominously at the dull spectre, and declared it was doubtful if the rain would cease for three weeks yet. The site of the caravan camp on the hither side of the Ungerengeri was a hot-bed of malaria, unpleasant to witness--an abomination to memory. The filth of generations of pagazis had gathered innumerable hosts of creeping things. Armies of black, white, and red ants infest the stricken soil; centipedes, like worms, of every hue, clamber over shrubs and plants; hanging to the undergrowth are the honey-combed nests of yellow-headed wasps with stings as harmful as scorpions; enormous beetles, as large as full-grown mice, roll dunghills over the ground; of all sorts, shapes, sizes, and hues are the myriad-fold vermin with which the ground teems; in short, the richest entomological collection could not vie in variety and numbers with the species which the four walls of my tent enclosed from morning until night. On the fifth morning, or the 23rd April, the rain gave us a few hours' respite, during which we managed to wade through the Stygian quagmire reeking with noisomeness to the inundated river-bank. The soldiers commenced at 5 A.M. to convey the baggage across from bank to bank over a bridge which was the most rustic of the rustic kind. Only an ignorant African would have been satisfied with its small utility as a means to cross a deep and rapid body of water. Even for light-footed Wanyamwezi pagazis it was anything but comfortable to traverse. Only a professional tight-rope performer could have carried a load across with ease. To travel over an African bridge requires, first, a long leap from land to the limb of a tree (which may or may not be covered by water), followed by a long jump ashore. With 70 lbs. weight on his back, the carrier finds it difficult enough. Sometimes he is assisted by ropes extemporized from the long convolvuli which hang from almost every tree, but not always, these being deemed superfluities by the Washensi. Fortunately the baggage was transferred without a single accident, and though the torrent was strong, the donkeys were dragged through the flood by vigorous efforts and much objurgation without a casualty. This performance of crossing the Ungerengeri occupied fully five hours, though energy, abuse, and fury enough were expended for an army. Reloading and wringing our clothes dry, we set out from the horrible neighbourhood of the river, with its reek and filth, in a northerly direction, following a road which led up to easy and level ground. Two obtruding hills were thus avoided on our left, and after passing them we had shut out the view of the hateful valley. I always found myself more comfortable and lighthearted while travelling than when chafing and fretting in camp at delays which no effort could avoid, and consequently I fear that some things, while on a march, may be tinted somewhat stronger than their appearance or merit may properly warrant. But I thought that the view opening before us was much more agreeable than the valley of Simbamwenni with all its indescribable fertility. It was a series of glades opening one after another between forest clumps of young trees, hemmed in distantly by isolated peaks and scattered mountains. Now and again, as we crested low eminences we caught sight of the blue Usagara mountains, bounding the horizon westerly and northerly, and looked down upon a vast expanse of plain which lay between. At the foot of the lengthy slope, well-watered by bubbling springs and mountain rills, we found a comfortable khambi with well-made huts, which the natives call Simbo. It lies just two hours or five miles north-west of the Ungerengeri crossing. The ground is rocky, composed principally of quartzose detritus swept down by the constant streams. In the neighbourhood of these grow bamboo, the thickest of which was about two and a half inches in diameter; the "myombo," a very shapely tree, with a clean trunk like an ash, the "imbite," with large, fleshy leaves like the "mtamba," sycamore, plum-tree, the "ugaza," ortamarisk, and the "mgungu," a tree containing several wide branches with small leaves clustered together in a clump, and the silk-cotton tree. Though there are no villages or settlements in view of Simbo Khambi, there are several clustered within the mountain folds, inhabited by Waseguhha somewhat prone to dishonest acts and murder. The long broad plain visible from the eminences crossed between the Ungerengeri and Simbo was now before us, and became known to sorrowful memory subsequently, as the Makata Valley. The initial march was from Simbo, its terminus at Rehenneko, at the base of the Usagara mountains, six marches distant. The valley commences with broad undulations, covered with young forests of bamboo, which grow thickly along the streams, the dwarf fan-palm, the stately Palmyra, and the mgungu. These undulations soon become broken by gullies containing water, nourishing dense crops of cane reeds and broad-bladed grass, and, emerging from this district, wide savannah covered with tall grass open into view, with an isolated tree here and there agreeably breaking the monotony of the scene. The Makata is a wilderness containing but one village of the Waseguhha throughout its broad expanse. Venison, consequently, abounds within the forest clumps, and the kudu, hartebeest, antelope, and zebra may be seen at early dawn emerging into the open savannahs to feed. At night, the cyn-hyaena prowls about with its hideous clamour seeking for sleeping prey, man or beast. The slushy mire of the savannahs rendered marching a work of great difficulty; its tenacious hold of the feet told terribly on men and animals. A ten-mile march required ten hours, we were therefore compelled to camp in the middle of this wilderness, and construct a new khambi, a measure which was afterwards adopted by half a dozen caravans. The cart did not arrive until nearly midnight, and with it, besides three or four broken-down pagazis, came Bombay with the dolorous tale, that having put his load--consisting of the property tent, one large American axe, his two uniform coats, his shirts, beads and cloth, powder, pistol, and hatchet--on the ground, to go and assist the cart out of a quagmire, he had returned to the place where he had left it and could not find it, that he believed that some thieving Washensi, who always lurk in the rear of caravans to pick up stragglers, had decamped with it. Which dismal tale told me at black midnight was not received at all graciously, but rather with most wrathful words, all of which the penitent captain received as his proper due. Working myself into a fury, I enumerated his sins to him; he had lost a goat at Muhalleh, he had permitted Khamisi to desert with valuable property at Imbiki; he had frequently shown culpable negligence in not looking after the donkeys, permitting them to be tied up at night without seeing that they had water, and in the mornings, when about to march, he preferred to sleep until 7 o'clock, rather than wake up early and saddle the donkeys, that we might start at 6 o'clock; he had shown of late great love for the fire, cowering like a bloodless man before it, torpid and apathetic; he had now lost the property-tent in the middle of the Masika season, by which carelessness the cloth bales would rot and become valueless; he had lost the axe which I should want at Ujiji to construct my boat; and finally, he had lost a pistol and hatchet, and a flaskful of the best powder. Considering all these things, how utterly incompetent he was to be captain, I would degrade him from his office and appoint Mabruki Burton instead. Uledi, also, following the example of Bombay, instead of being second captain, should give no orders to any soldiers in future, but should himself obey those given by Mabruki--the said Mabruki being worth a dozen Bombays, and two dozen Uledis; and so he was dismissed with orders to return at daylight to find the tent, axe, pistol, powder, and hatchet. The next morning the caravan, thoroughly fatigued with the last day's exertions, was obliged to halt. Bombay was despatched after the lost goods; Kingaru, Mabruki the Great, and Mabruki the Little were despatched to bring back three doti-worth of grain, on which we were to subsist in the wilderness. Three days passed away and we were still at camp, awaiting, with what patience we possessed, the return of the soldiers. In the meantime provisions ran very low, no game could be procured, the birds were so wild. Two days shooting procured but two potfuls of birds, consisting of grouse, quail, and pigeons. Bombay returned unsuccessfully from his search after the missing property, and suffered deep disgrace. On the fourth day I despatched Shaw with two more soldiers, to see what had become of Kingaru and the two Mabrukis. Towards night he returned completely prostrated, with a violent attack of the mukunguru, or ague; but bringing the missing soldiers, who were thus left to report for themselves. With most thankful hearts did we quit our camp, where so much anxiety of mind and fretfulness had been suffered, not heeding a furious rain, which, after drenching us all night, might have somewhat damped our ardor for the march under other circumstances. The road for the first mile led over reddish ground, and was drained by gentle slopes falling east and west; but, leaving the cover of the friendly woods, on whose eastern margin we had been delayed so long, we emerged into one of the savannahs, whose soil during the rain is as soft as slush and tenacious as thick mortar, where we were all threatened with the fate of the famous Arkansas traveller, who had sunk so low in one of the many quagmires in Arkansas county, that nothing but his tall "stove-pipe" hat was left visible. Shaw was sick, and the whole duty of driving the foundering caravan devolved upon myself. The Wanyamwezi donkeys stuck in the mire as if they were rooted to it. As fast as one was flogged from his stubborn position, prone to the depths fell another, giving me a Sisyphean labour, which was maddening trader pelting rain, assisted by such men as Bombay and Uledi, who could not for a whole skin's sake stomach the storm and mire. Two hours of such a task enabled me to drag my caravan over a savannah one mile and a half broad; and barely had I finished congratulating myself over my success before I was halted by a deep ditch, which, filled with rain-water from the inundated savannahs, had become a considerable stream, breast-deep, flowing swiftly into the Makata. Donkeys had to be unloaded, led through a torrent, and loaded again on the other bank--an operation which consumed a full hour. Presently, after straggling through a wood clump, barring our progress was another stream, swollen into a river. The bridge being swept away, we were obliged to swim and float our baggage over, which delayed us two hours more. Leaving this second river-bank, we splashed, waded, occasionally half-swimming, and reeled through mire, water-dripping grass and matama stalks, along the left bank of the Makata proper, until farther progress was effectually prevented for that day by a deep bend of the river, which we should be obliged to cross the next day. Though but six miles were traversed during that miserable day, the march occupied ten hours. Half dead with fatigue, I yet could feel thankful that it was not accompanied by fever, which it seemed a miracle to avoid; for if ever a district was cursed with the ague, the Makata wilderness ranks foremost of those afflicted. Surely the sight of the dripping woods enveloped in opaque mist, of the inundated country with lengthy swathes of tiger-grass laid low by the turbid flood, of mounds of decaying trees and canes, of the swollen river and the weeping sky, was enough to engender the mukunguru! The well-used khambi, and the heaps of filth surrounding it, were enough to create a cholera! The Makata, a river whose breadth during the dry season is but forty feet, in the Masika season assumes the breadth, depth, and force of an important river. Should it happen to be an unusually rainy season, it inundates the great plain which stretches on either side, and converts it into a great lake. It is the main feeder of the Wami river, which empties into the sea between the ports of Saadani and Whinde. About ten miles north-east of the Makata crossing, the Great Makata, the Little Makata, a nameless creek, and the Rudewa river unite; and the river thus formed becomes known as the Wami. Throughout Usagara the Wami is known as the Mukondokwa. Three of these streams take their rise from the crescent-like Usagara range, which bounds the Makata plain south and south-westerly; while the Rudewa rises in the northern horn of the same range. So swift was the flow of the Makata, and so much did its unsteady bridge, half buried in the water, imperil the safety of the property, that its transfer from bank to bank occupied fully five hours. No sooner had we landed every article on the other side, undamaged by the water, than the rain poured down in torrents that drenched them all, as if they had been dragged through the river. To proceed through the swamp which an hour's rain had formed was utterly out of the question. We were accordingly compelled to camp in a place where every hour furnished its quota of annoyance. One of the Wangwana soldiers engaged at Bagamoyo, named Kingaru, improved an opportunity to desert with another Mgwana's kit. My two detectives, Uledi (Grant's valet), and Sarmean, were immediately despatched in pursuit, both being armed with American breech-loaders. They went about their task with an adroitness and celerity which augured well for their success. In an hour they returned with the runaway, having found him hidden in the house of a Mseguhha chief called Kigondo, who lived about a mile from the eastern bank of the river, and who had accompanied Uledi and Sarmean to receive his reward, and render an account of the incident. Kigondo said, when he had been seated, "I saw this man carrying a bundle, and running hard, by which I knew that he was deserting you. We (my wife and 1) were sitting in our little watch-hut, watching our corn; and, as the road runs close by, this man was obliged to come close to us. We called to him when he was near, saying, 'Master, where are you going so fast? Are you deserting the Musungu, for we know you belong to him, since you bought from us yesterday two doti worth of meat?' 'Yes,' said he, 'I am running away; I want to get to Simbamwenni. If you will take me there, I will give you a doti.' We said to him then, 'Come into our house, and we will talk it over quietly. When he was in our house in an inner room, we locked him up, and went out again to the watch; but leaving word with the women to look out for him. We knew that, if you wanted him, you would send askari (soldiers) after him. We had but lit our pipes when we saw two men armed with short guns, and having no loads, coming along the road, looking now and then on the ground, as if they were looking at footmarks. We knew them to be the men we were expecting; so we hailed them, and said, 'Masters, what are ye looking for?' \ They said, 'We are looking for a man who has deserted our master. Here are his footsteps. If you have been long in your hut you must have seen him, Can you tell us where he is?' We said, 'yes; he is in our house. If you will come with us, we will give him up to you; but your master must give us something for catching him.'" As Kigondo had promised to deliver Kingaru up, there remained nothing further to do for Uledi and Sarmean but to take charge of their prisoner, and bring him and his captors to my camp on the western bank of the Makata. Kingaru received two dozen lashes, and was chained; his captor a doti, besides five khete of red coral beads for his wife. That down-pour of rain which visited us the day we crossed the Makata proved the last of the Masika season. As the first rainfall which we had experienced occurred on the 23rd March, and the last on the 30th April, its duration was thirty-nine days. The seers of Bagamoyo had delivered their vaticinations concerning this same Masika with solemnity. "For forty days," said they, "rain would fall incessantly;" whereas we had but experienced eighteen days' rain. Nevertheless, we were glad that it was over, for we were tired of stopping day after day to dry the bales and grease the tools and ironware, and of seeing all things of cloth and leather rot visibly before our eyes. The 1st of May found us struggling through the mire and water of the Makata with a caravan bodily sick, from the exertion and fatigue of crossing so many rivers and wading through marshes. Shaw was still suffering from his first mukunguru; Zaidi, a soldier, was critically ill with the small-pox; the kichuma-chuma, "little irons," had hold of Bombay across the chest, rendering him the most useless of the unserviceables; Mabruk Saleem, a youth of lusty frame, following the example of Bombay, laid himself down on the marshy ground, professing his total inability to breast the Makata swamp; Abdul Kader, the Hindi tailor and adventurer--the weakliest of mortal bodies--was ever ailing for lack of "force," as he expressed it in French, i.e. "strength," ever indisposed to work, shiftless, mock-sick, but ever hungry. "Oh! God," was the cry of my tired soul, "were all the men of my Expedition like this man I should be compelled to return." Solomon was wise perhaps from inspiration, perhaps from observation; I was becoming wise by experience, and I was compelled to observe that when mud and wet sapped the physical energy of the lazily-inclined, a dog-whip became their backs, restoring them to a sound--some-times to an extravagant activity. For thirty miles from our camp was the Makata plain an extensive swamp. The water was on an average one foot in depth; in some places we plunged into holes three, four, and even five feet deep. Plash, splash, plash, splash, were the only sounds we heard from the commencement of the march until we found the bomas occupying the only dry spots along the line of march. This kind of work continued for two days, until we came in sight of the Rudewa river, another powerful stream with banks brimful of rushing rain-water. Crossing a branch of the Rudewa, and emerging from the dank reedy grass crowding the western bank, the view consisted of an immense sheet of water topped by clumps of grass tufts and foliage of thinly scattered trees, bounded ten or twelve miles off by the eastern front of the Usagara mountain range. The acme of discomfort and vexation was realized on the five-mile march from the Rudewa branch. As myself and the Wangwana appeared with the loaded donkeys, the pagazis were observed huddled on a mound. When asked if the mound was the camp, they replied "No." "Why, then, do you stop here?"--"Ugh! water plenty!!" One drew a line across his loins to indicate the depth of water before us, another drew a line across his chest, another across his throat another held his hand over his head, by which he meant that we should have to swim. Swim five miles through a reedy marsh! It was impossible; it was also impossible that such varied accounts could all be correct. Without hesitation, therefore, I ordered the Wangwana to proceed with the animals. After three hours of splashing through four feet of water we reached dry land, and had traversed the swamp of Makata. But not without the swamp with its horrors having left a durable impression upon our minds; no one was disposed to forget its fatigues, nor the nausea of travel which it almost engendered. Subsequently, we had to remember its passage still more vividly, and to regret that we had undertaken the journey during the Masika season, when the animals died from this date by twos and threes, almost every day, until but five sickly worn-out beasts remained; when the Wangwana, soldiers, and pagazis sickened of diseases innumerable; when I myself was finally compelled to lie a-bed with an attack of acute dysentery which brought me to the verge of the grave. I suffered more, perhaps, than I might have done had I taken the proper medicine, but my over-confidence in that compound, called "Collis Brown's Chlorodyne," delayed the cure which ultimately resulted from a judicious use of Dover's powder. In no one single case of diarrhoea or acute dysentery had this "Chlorodyne," about which so much has been said, and written, any effect of lessening the attack whatever, though I used three bottles. To the dysentery contracted during, the transit of the Makata swamp, only two fell victims, and those were a pagazi and my poor little dog "Omar," my companion from India. The only tree of any prominence in the Makata valley was the Palmyra palm (Borassus flabelliformis), and this grew in some places in numbers sufficient to be called a grove; the fruit was not ripe while we passed, otherwise we might have enjoyed it as a novelty. The other vegetation consisted of the several species of thorn bush, and the graceful parachute-topped and ever-green mimosa. The 4th of May we were ascending a gentle slope towards the important village of Rehenneko, the first village near to which we encamped in Usagara. It lay at the foot of the mountain, and its plenitude and mountain air promised us comfort and health. It was a square, compact village, surrounded by a thick wall of mud, enclosing cone-topped huts, roofed with bamboo and holcus-stalks; and contained a population of about a thousand souls. It has several wealthy and populous neighbours, whose inhabitants are independent enough in their manner, but not unpleasantly so. The streams are of the purest water, fresh, and pellucid as crystal, bubbling over round pebbles and clean gravel, with a music delightful to hear to the traveller in search of such a sweetly potable element. The bamboo grows to serviceable size in the neighbourhood of Rehenneko, strong enough for tent and banghy poles; and in numbers sufficient to supply an army. The mountain slopes are densely wooded with trees that might supply very good timber for building purposes. We rested four days at this pleasant spot, to recruit ourselves, and to allow the sick and feeble time to recover a little before testing their ability in the ascent of the Usagara mountains. The 8th of May saw us with our terribly jaded men and animals winding up the steep slopes of the first line of hills; gaining the summit of which we obtained a view remarkably grand, which exhibited as in a master picture the broad valley of the Makata, with its swift streams like so many cords of silver, as the sunshine played on the unshadowed reaches of water, with its thousands of graceful palms adding not a little to the charm of the scene, with the great wall of the Uruguru and Uswapanga mountains dimly blue, but sublime in their loftiness and immensity--forming a fit background to such an extensive, far-embracing prospect. Turning our faces west, we found ourselves in a mountain world, fold rising above fold, peak behind peak, cone jostling cone; away to the north, to the west, to the south, the mountain tops rolled like so many vitrified waves; not one adust or arid spot was visible in all this scene. The diorama had no sudden changes or striking contrasts, for a universal forest of green trees clothed every peak, cone, and summit. To the men this first day's march through the mountain region of Usagara was an agreeable interlude after the successive journey over the flats and heavy undulations of the maritime region, but to the loaded and enfeebled animals it was most trying. We were minus two by the time we had arrived at our camp, but seven miles from Rehenneko, our first instalment of the debt we owed to Makata. Water, sweet and clear, was abundant in the deep hollows of the mountains, flowing sometimes over beds of solid granite, sometimes over a rich red sandstone, whose soft substance was soon penetrated by the aqueous element, and whose particles were swept away constantly to enrich the valley below; and in other ravines it dashed, and roared, miniature thunder, as it leaped over granite boulders and quartz rock. The 9th of May, after another such an up-and-down course, ascending hills and descending into the twilight depths of deepening valleys, we came suddenly upon the Mukondokwa, and its narrow pent-up valley crowded with rank reedy grass, cane, and thorny bushes; and rugged tamarisk which grappled for existence with monster convolvuli, winding their coils around their trunks with such tenacity and strength that the tamarisk seemed grown but for their support. The valley was barely a quarter of a mile broad in some places--at others it widened to about a mile. The hills on either side shot up into precipitous slopes, clothed with mimosa, acacia, and tamarisk, enclosing a river and valley whose curves and folds were as various as a serpent's. Shortly after debouching into the Mukondokwa valley, we struck the road traversed by Captains Buxton and Speke in 1857, between Mbumi and Kadetamare (the latter place should be called Misonghi, Kadetamare being but the name of a chief). After following the left bank of the Mukondokwa, during which our route diverged to every point from south-east to west, north and northeast, for about an hour, we came to the ford. Beyond the ford, a short half-hour's march, we came to Kiora. At this filthy village of Kiora, which was well-grounded with goat-dung, and peopled with a wonderful number of children for a hamlet that did not number twenty families, with a hot sun pouring on the limited open space, with a fury that exceeded 128 degrees Fahrenheit; which swarmed with flies and insects of known and unknown species; I found, as I had been previously informed, the third caravan, which had started out of Bagamoyo so well fitted and supplied. The leader, who was no other than the white man Farquhar, was sick-a-bed with swollen legs (Bright's disease), unable to move. As he heard my voice, Farquhar staggered out of his tent, so changed from my spruce mate who started from Bagamoyo, that I hardly knew him at first. His legs were ponderous, elephantine, since his leg-illness was of elephantiasis, or dropsy. His face was of a deathly pallor, for he had not been out of his tent for two weeks. A breezy hill, overlooking the village of Kiora, was chosen by me for my camping-ground, and as soon as the tents were pitched, the animals attended to, and a boma made of thorn bushes, Farquhar was carried up by four men into my tent. Upon being questioned as to the cause of his illness, he said he did not know what had caused it. He had no pain, he thought, anywhere. I asked, "Do you not sometimes feel pain on the right side?"--"Yes, I think I do; but I don't know."--"Nor over the left nipple sometimes--a quick throbbing, with a shortness of breath?"--"Yes, I think I have. I know I breathe quick sometimes." He said his only trouble was in the legs, which were swollen to an immense size. Though he had a sound appetite, he yet felt weak in the legs. From the scant information of the disease and its peculiarities, as given by Farquhar himself, I could only make out, by studying a little medical book I had with me, that "a swelling of the legs, and sometimes of the body, might result from either heart, liver, or kidney disease." But I did not know to what to ascribe the disease, unless it was to elephantiasis--a disease most common in Zanzibar; nor did I know how to treat it in a man who, could not tell me whether he felt pain in his head or in his back, in his feet or in his chest. It was therefore fortunate for me that I overtook him at Kiora; though he was about to prove a sore incumbrance to me, for he was not able to walk, and the donkey-carriage, after the rough experience of the Makata valley, was failing. I could not possibly leave him at Kiora, death would soon overtake him there; but how long I could convey a man in such a state, through a country devoid of carriage, was a question to be resolved by circumstances. On the 11th of May, the third and fifth caravans, now united, followed up the right bank of the Mukondokwa, through fields of holcus, the great Mukondokwa ranges rising in higher altitude as we proceeded west, and enfolding us in the narrow river valley round about. We left Muniyi Usagara on our right, and soon after found hill-spurs athwart our road, which we were obliged to ascend and descend. A march of eight miles from the ford of Misonghi brought us to another ford of the Mukondokwa, where we bid a long adieu to Burton's road, which led up to the Goma pass and up the steep slopes of Rubeho. Our road left the right bank and followed the left over a country quite the reverse of the Mukondokwa Valley, enclosed between mountain ranges. Fertile soils and spontaneous vegetation, reeking with miasma and overpowering from their odour, we had exchanged for a drouthy wilderness of aloetic and cactaceous plants, where the kolquall and several thorn bushes grew paramount. Instead of the tree-clad heights, slopes and valleys, instead of cultivated fields, we saw now the confines of uninhabited wilderness. The hill-tops were bared of their bosky crowns, and revealed their rocky natures bleached white by rain and sun. Nguru Peak, the loftiest of the Usagara cones, stood right shoulderwards of us as we ascended the long slope of dun-grey soil which rose beyond the brown Mukondokwa on the left. At the distance of two miles from the last ford, we found a neat khambi, situated close to the river, where it first broke into a furious rapid. The next morning the caravan was preparing for the march, when I was informed that the "Bana Mdogo"--little master--Shaw, had not yet arrived with the cart, and the men in charge of it. Late the previous night I had despatched one donkey for Shaw, who had said he was too ill to walk, and another for the load that was on the cart; and had retired satisfied that they would soon arrive. My conclusion, when I learned in the morning that the people had not yet come in, was that Shaw was not aware that for five days we should have to march through a wilderness totally uninhabited. I therefore despatched Chowpereh, a Mgwana soldier, with the following note to him:--"You will, upon receipt of this order pitch the cart into the nearest ravine, gully, or river, as well as all the extra pack saddles; and come at once, for God's sake, for we must not starve here!" One, two, three, and four hours were passed by me in the utmost impatience, waiting, but in vain, for Shaw. Having a long march before us, I could wait no longer, but went to meet his party myself. About a quarter of mile from the ford I met the van of the laggards--stout burly Chowpereh--and, O cartmakers, listen! he carried the cart on his head--wheels, shafts, body, axle, and all complete; he having found that carrying it was much easier than drawing it. The sight was such a damper to my regard for it as an experiment, that the cart was wheeled into the depths of the tall reeds, and there left. The central figure was Shaw himself, riding at a gait which seemed to leave it doubtful on my mind whether he or his animal felt most sleepy. Upon expostulating with him for keeping the caravan so long waiting when there was a march on hand, in a most peculiar voice--which he always assumed when disposed to be ugly-tempered--he said he had done the best he could; but as I had seen the solemn pace at which he rode, I felt dubious about his best endeavours; and of course there was a little scene, but the young European mtongi of an East African expedition must needs sup with the fellows he has chosen. We arrived at Madete at 4 P.M., minus two donkeys, which had stretched their weary limbs in death. We had crossed the Mukondokwa about 3 P.M., and after taking its bearings and course, I made sure that its rise took place near a group of mountains about forty miles north by west of Nguru Peak. Our road led W.N.W., and at this place finally diverged from the river. On the 14th, after a march of seven miles over hills whose sandstone and granite formation cropped visibly here and there above the surface, whose stony and dry aspect seemed reflected in every bush and plant, and having gained an altitude of about eight hundred feet above the flow of the Mukondokwa, we sighted the Lake of Ugombo--a grey sheet of water lying directly at the foot of the hill, from whose summit we gazed at the scene. The view was neither beautiful nor pretty, but what I should call refreshing; it afforded a pleasant relief to the eyes fatigued from dwelling on the bleak country around. Besides, the immediate neighbourhood of the lake was too tame to call forth any enthusiasm; there were no grandly swelling mountains, no smiling landscapes--nothing but a dun-brown peak, about one thousand feet high above the surface of the lake at its western extremity, from which the lake derived its name, Ugombo; nothing but a low dun-brown irregular range, running parallel with its northern shore at the distance of a mile; nothing but a low plain stretching from its western shore far away towards the Mpwapwa Mountains and Marenga Mkali, then apparent to us from our coign of vantage, from which extensive scene of dun-brownness we were glad to rest our eyes on the quiet grey water beneath. Descending from the summit of the range, which bounded the lake east for about four hundred feet, we travelled along the northern shore. The time occupied in the journey from the eastern to the western extremity was exactly one hour and thirty minutes. As this side represents its greatest length I conclude that the lake is three miles long by two miles greatest breadth. The immediate shores of the lake on all sides, for at least fifty feet from the water's edge, is one impassable morass nourishing rank reeds and rushes, where the hippopotamus' ponderous form has crushed into watery trails the soft composition of the morass as he passes from the lake on his nocturnal excursions; the lesser animals; such as the "mbogo" (buffalo), the "punda-terra" (zebra); the "twiga" (giraffe), the boar, the kudu, the hyrax or coney and the antelope; come here also to quench their thirst by night. The surface of the lake swarms with an astonishing variety of water-fowl; such as black swan, duck, ibis sacra cranes, pelicans; and soaring above on the look-out for their prey are fish-eagles and hawks, while the neighbourhood is resonant with the loud chirps of the guinea-fowls calling for their young, with the harsh cry of the toucan, the cooing of the pigeon, and the "to-whit, to-whoo" of the owl. From the long grass in its vicinity also issue the grating and loud cry of the florican, woodcock, and grouse. Being obliged to halt here two days, owing to the desertion of the Hindi cooper Jako with one of my best carbines, I improved the opportunity of exploring the northern and southern shores of the lake. At the rocky foot of a low, humpy hill on the northern side, about fifteen feet above the present surface of the water I detected in most distinct and definite lines the agency of waves. From its base could be traced clear to the edge of the dank morass tiny lines of comminuted shell as plainly marked as the small particles which lie in rows on a beech after a receding tide. There is no doubt that the wave-marks on the sandstone might have been traced much higher by one skilled in geology; it was only its elementary character that was visible to me. Nor do I entertain the least doubt, after a two days' exploration of the neighbourhood, especially of the low plain at the western end, that this Lake of Ugombo is but the tail of what was once a large body of water equal in extent to the Tanganika; and, after ascending half way up Ugombo Peak, this opinion was confirmed when I saw the long-depressed line of plain at its base stretching towards the Mpwapwa Mountains thirty miles off, and thence round to Marenga Mkali, and covering all that extensive surface of forty miles in breadth, and an unknown length. A depth of twelve feet more, I thought, as I gazed upon it, would give the lake a length of thirty miles, and a breadth of ten. A depth of thirty feet would increase its length over a hundred miles, and give it a breadth of fifty, for such was the level nature of the plain that stretched west of Ugombo, and north of Marenga Mkali. Besides the water of the lake partook slightly of the bitter nature of the Matamombo creek, distant fifteen miles, and in a still lesser degree of that of Marenga Mkali, forty miles off. Towards the end of the first day of our halt the Hindi cooper Jako arrived in camp, alleging as an excuse, that feeling fatigued he had fallen asleep in some bushes a few feet from the roadside. Having been the cause of our detention in the hungry wilderness of Ugombo, I was not in a frame of mind to forgive him; so, to prevent any future truant tricks on his part, I was under the necessity of including him with the chained gangs of runaways. Two more of our donkeys died, and to prevent any of the valuable baggage being left behind, I was obliged to send Farquhar off on my own riding-ass to the village of Mpwapwa, thirty miles off, under charge of Mabruki Burton. To save the Expedition from ruin, I was reluctantly compelled to come to the conclusion that it were better for me, for him, and concerned, that he be left with some kind chief of a village, with a six months' supply of cloth and beads, until he got well, than that he make his own recovery impossible. The 16th of May saw us journeying over the plain which lies between Ugombo and Mpwapwa, skirting close, at intervals, a low range of trap-rock, out of which had become displaced by some violent agency several immense boulders. On its slopes grew the kolquall to a size which I had not seen in Abyssinia. In the plain grew baobab, and immense tamarind, and a variety of thorn. Within five hours from Ugombo the mountain range deflected towards the north-east, while we continued on a north-westerly course, heading for the lofty mountain-line of the Mpwapwa. To our left towered to the blue clouds the gigantic Rubeho. The adoption of this new road to Unyanyembe by which we were travelling was now explained--we were enabled to avoid the passes and stiff steeps of Rubeho, and had nothing worse to encounter than a broad smooth plain, which sloped gently to Ugogo. After a march of fifteen miles we camped at a dry mtoni, called Matamombo, celebrated for its pools of bitter water of the colour of ochre. Monkeys and rhinoceroses, besides kudus, steinboks, and antelopes, were numerous in the vicinity. At this camp my little dog "Omar" died of inflammation of the bowels, almost on the threshold of the country--Ugogo--where his faithful watchfulness would have been invaluable to me. The next day's march was also fifteen miles in length, through one interminable jungle of thorn-bushes. Within two miles of the camp, the road led up a small river bed, broad as an avenue, clear to the khambi of Mpwapwa; which was situated close to a number of streams of the purest water. The following morning found us much fatigued after the long marches from Ugombo, and generally disposed to take advantage of the precious luxuries Mpwapwa offered to caravans fresh from the fly-plagued lands of the Waseguhha and Wadoe. Sheikh Thani--clever but innocently-speaking old Arab--was encamped under the grateful umbrage of a huge Mtamba sycamore, and had been regaling himself with fresh milk, luscious mutton, and rich bullock humps, ever since his arrival here, two days before; and, as he informed me, it did not suit his views to quit such a happy abundance so soon for the saline nitrous water of Marenga Mkali, with its several terekezas, and manifold disagreeables. "No!" said he to me, emphatically, "better stop here two or three days, give your tired animals some rest; collect all the pagazis you can, fill your inside with fresh milk, sweet potatoes, beef, mutton, ghee, honey, beans, matama, maweri, and nuts;--then, Inshallah! we shall go together through Ugogo without stopping anywhere." As the advice tallied accurately with my own desired and keen appetite for the good things he named, he had not long to wait for my assent to his counsel. "Ugogo," continued he, "is rich with milk and honey--rich in flour, beans and almost every eatable thing; and, Inshallah! before another week is gone we shall be in Ugogo!" I had heard from passing caravans so many extremely favourable reports respecting Ugogo and its productions that it appeared to me a very Land of Promise, and I was most anxious to refresh my jaded stomach with some of the precious esculents raised in Ugogo; but when I heard that Mpwapwa also furnished some of those delicate eatables, and good things, most of the morning hours were spent in inducing the slow-witted people to part with them; and when, finally, eggs, milk, honey, mutton, ghee, ground matama and beans had been collected in sufficient quantities to produce a respectable meal, my keenest attention and best culinary talents were occupied for a couple of hours in converting this crude supply into a breakfast which could be accepted by and befit a stomach at once fastidious and famished, such as mine was. The subsequent healthy digestion of it proved my endeavours to have been eminently successful. At the termination of this eventful day, the following remark was jotted down in my diary: "Thank God! After fifty-seven days of living upon matama porridge and tough goat, I have enjoyed with unctuous satisfaction a real breakfast and dinner." It was in one of the many small villages which are situated upon the slopes of the Mpwapwa that a refuge and a home for Farquhar was found until he should be enabled by restored health to start to join us at Unyanyembe. Food was plentiful and of sufficient variety to suit the most fastidious--cheap also, much cheaper than we had experienced for many a day. Leucole, the chief of the village, with whom arrangements for Farquhar's protection and comfort were made, was a little old man of mild eye and very pleasing face, and on being informed that it was intended to leave the Musungu entirely under his charge, suggested that some man should be left to wait on him, and interpret his wishes to his people. As Jako was the only one who could speak English, except Bombay and Selim, Jako was appointed, and the chief Leucole was satisfied. Six months' provisions of white beads, Merikani and Kaniki cloth, together with two doti of handsome cloth to serve as a present to Leucole after his recovery, were taken to Farquhar by Bombay, together with a Starr's carbine, 300 rounds of cartridge, a set of cooking pots, and 3 lbs. of tea. Abdullah bin Nasib, who was found encamped here with five hundred pagazis, and a train of Arab and Wasawahili satellites, who revolved around his importance, treated me in somewhat the same manner that Hamed bin Sulayman treated Speke at Kasenge. Followed by his satellites, he came (a tall nervous-looking man, of fifty or thereabouts) to see me in my camp, and asked me if I wished to purchase donkeys. As all my animals were either sick or moribund, I replied very readily in the affirmative, upon which he graciously said he would sell me as many as I wanted, and for payment I could give him a draft on Zanzibar. I thought him a very considerate and kind person, fully justifying the encomiums lavished on him in Burton's 'Lake Regions of Central Africa,' and accordingly I treated him with the consideration due to so great and good a man. The morrow came, and with it went Abdullah bin Nasib, or "Kisesa," as he is called by the Wanyamwezi, with all his pagazis, his train of followers, and each and every one of his donkeys, towards Bagamoyo, without so much as giving a "Kwaheri," or good-bye. At this place there are generally to be found from ten to thirty pagazis awaiting up-caravans. I was fortunate enough to secure twelve good people, who, upon my arrival at Unyanyembe, without an exception, voluntarily engaged themselves as carriers to Ujiji. With the formidable marches of Marenga Mkali in front, I felt thankful for this happy windfall, which resolved the difficulties I had been anticipating; for I had but ten donkeys left, and four of these were so enfeebled that they were worthless as baggage animals. Mpwapwa--so called by the Arabs, who have managed to corrupt almost every native word--is called "Mbambwa" by the Wasagara. It is a mountain range rising over 6,000 feet above the sea, bounding on the north the extensive plain which commences at Ugombo lake, and on the east that part of the plain which is called Marenga Mkali, which stretches away beyond the borders of Uhumba. Opposite Mpwapwa, at the distance of thirty miles or so, rises the Anak peak of Rubeho, with several other ambitious and tall brethren cresting long lines of rectilinear scarps, which ascend from the plain of Ugombo and Marenga Mkali as regularly as if they had been chiselled out by the hands of generations of masons and stonecutters. Upon looking at Mpwapwa's greenly-tinted slopes, dark with many a densely-foliaged tree; its many rills flowing sweet and clear, nourishing besides thick patches of gum and thorn bush, giant sycamore and parachute-topped mimosa, and permitting my imagination to picture sweet views behind the tall cones above, I was tempted to brave the fatigue of an ascent to the summit. Nor was my love for the picturesque disappointed. One sweep of the eyes embraced hundreds of square miles of plain and mountain, from Ugombo Peak away to distant Ugogo, and from Rubeho and Ugogo to the dim and purple pasture lands of the wild, untamable Wahumba. The plain of Ugombo and its neighbour of Marenga Mkali, apparently level as a sea, was dotted here and there with "hillocks dropt in Nature's careless haste," which appeared like islands amid the dun and green expanse. Where the jungle was dense the colour was green, alternating with dark brown; where the plain appeared denuded of bush and brake it had a whity-brown appearance, on which the passing clouds now and again cast their deep shadows. Altogether this side of the picture was not inviting; it exhibited too plainly the true wilderness in its sternest aspect; but perhaps the knowledge that in the bosom of the vast plain before me there was not one drop of water but was bitter as nitre, and undrinkable as urine, prejudiced me against it, The hunter might consider it a paradise, for in its depths were all kinds of game to attract his keenest instincts; but to the mere traveller it had a stern outlook. Nearer, however, to the base of the Mpwapwa the aspect of the plain altered. At first the jungle thinned, openings in the wood appeared, then wide and naked clearings, then extensive fields of the hardy holcus, Indian corn, and maweri or bajri, with here and there a square tembe or village. Still nearer ran thin lines of fresh young grass, great trees surrounded a patch of alluvial meadow. A broad river-bed, containing several rivulets of water, ran through the thirsty fields, conveying the vivifying element which in this part of Usagara was so scarce and precious. Down to the river-bed sloped the Mpwapwa, roughened in some places by great boulders of basalt, or by rock masses, which had parted from a precipitous scarp, where clung the kolquall with a sure hold, drawing nourishment where every other green thing failed; clad in others by the hardy mimosa, which rose like a sloping bank of green verdure almost to the summit. And, happy sight to me so long a stranger to it, there were hundreds of cattle grazing, imparting a pleasing animation to the solitude of the deep folds of the mountain range. But the fairest view was obtained by looking northward towards the dense group of mountains which buttressed the front range, facing towards Rubeho. It was the home of the winds, which starting here and sweeping down the precipitous slopes and solitary peaks on the western side, and gathering strength as they rushed through the prairie-like Marenga Mkali, howled through Ugogo and Unyamwezi with the force of a storm, It was also the home of the dews, where sprang the clear springs which cheered by their music the bosky dells below, and enriched the populous district of Mpwapwa. One felt better, stronger, on this breezy height, drinking in the pure air and feasting the eyes on such a varied landscape as it presented, on spreading plateaus green as lawns, on smooth rounded tops, on mountain vales containing recesses which might charm a hermit's soul, on deep and awful ravines where reigned a twilight gloom, on fractured and riven precipices, on huge fantastically-worn boulders which overtopped them, on picturesque tracts which embraced all that was wild, and all that was poetical in Nature. Mpwapwa, though the traveller from the coast will feel grateful for the milk it furnished after being so long deprived of it, will be kept in mind as a most remarkable place for earwigs. In my tent they might be counted by thousands; in my slung cot they were by hundreds; on my clothes they were by fifties; on my neck and head they were by scores. The several plagues of locusts, fleas, and lice sink into utter insignificance compared with this fearful one of earwigs. It is true they did not bite, and they did not irritate the cuticle, but what their presence and numbers suggested was something so horrible that it drove one nearly insane to think of it. Who will come to East Africa without reading the experiences of Burton and Speke? Who is he that having read them will not remember with horror the dreadful account given by Speke of his encounters with these pests? My intense nervous watchfulness alone, I believe, saved me from a like calamity. Second to the earwigs in importance and in numbers were the white ants, whose powers of destructiveness were simply awful. Mats, cloth, portmanteaus, clothes, in short, every article I possessed, seemed on the verge of destruction, and, as I witnessed their voracity, I felt anxious lest my tent should be devoured while I slept. This was the first khambi since leaving the coast where their presence became a matter of anxiety; at all other camping places hitherto the red and black ants had usurped our attention, but at Mpwapwa the red species were not seen, while the black were also very scarce. After a three days' halt at Mpwapwa I decided of a march to Marenga Mkali, which should be uninterrupted until we reached Mvumi in Ugogo, where I should be inducted into the art of paying tribute to the Wagogo chiefs. The first march to Kisokweh was purposely made short, being barely four miles, in order to enable Sheikh Thani, Sheikh Hamed, and five or six Wasawahili caravans to come up with me at Chunyo on the confines of Marenga Mkali. CHAPTER VII. -- MARENGA MKALI, UGOGO, AND UYANZI, TO UNYANYEMBE. Mortality amongst the baggage animals.--The contumacious Wagogo--Mobs of Maenads.--Tribute paying.--Necessity of prudence.--Oration of the guide.--The genuine "Ugogians."-- Vituperative power.--A surprised chief.--The famous Mizanza.--Killing hyaenas.--The Greeks and Romans of Africa.--A critical moment.--The "elephant's back."--The wilderness of Ukimbu.--End of the first stage of the search.--Arrival at Unyanyembe. The 22nd of May saw Thani and Hamed's caravans united with my own at Chunyo, three and a half hours' march from Mpwapwa. The road from the latter place ran along the skirts of the Mpwapwa range; at three or four places it crossed outlying spurs that stood isolated from the main body of the range. The last of these hill spurs, joined by an elevated cross ridge to the Mpwapwa, shelters the tembe of Chunyo, situated on the western face, from the stormy gusts that come roaring down the steep slopes. The water of Chunyo is eminently bad, in fact it is its saline-nitrous nature which has given the name Marenga Mkali--bitter water--to the wilderness which separates Usagara from Ugogo. Though extremely offensive to the palate, Arabs and the natives drink it without fear, and without any bad results; but they are careful to withhold their baggage animals from the pits. Being ignorant of its nature, and not exactly understanding what precise location was meant by Marenga Mkali, I permitted the donkeys to be taken to water, as usual after a march; and the consequence was calamitous in the extreme. What the fearful swamp of Makata had spared, the waters of Marenga Mkali destroyed. In less than five days after our departure from Chunyo or Marenga Mali, five out of the nine donkeys left to me at the time--the five healthiest animals--fell victims. We formed quite an imposing caravan as we emerged from inhospitable Chunyo, in number amounting to about four hundred souls. We were strong in guns, flags, horns, sounding drums and noise. To Sheikh Hamed, by permission of Sheikh Thani, and myself was allotted the task of guiding and leading this great caravan through dreaded Ugogo; which was a most unhappy selection, as will be seen hereafter. Marenga Mali, over thirty miles across, was at last before us. This distance had to be traversed within thirty-six hours, so that the fatigue of the ordinary march would be more than doubled by this. From Chunyo to Ugogo not one drop of water was to be found. As a large caravan, say over two hundred souls, seldom travels over one and three-quarter miles per hour, a march of thirty miles would require seventeen hours of endurance without water and but little rest. East Africa generally possessing unlimited quantities of water, caravans have not been compelled for lack of the element to have recourse to the mushok of India and the khirbeh of Egypt. Being able to cross the waterless districts by a couple of long marches, they content themselves for the time with a small gourdful, and with keeping their imaginations dwelling upon the copious quantities they will drink upon arrival at the watering-place. The march through this waterless district was most monotonous, and a dangerous fever attacked me, which seemed to eat into my very vitals. The wonders of Africa that bodied themselves forth in the shape of flocks of zebras, giraffes, elands, or antelopes, galloping over the jungleless plain, had no charm for me; nor could they serve to draw my attention from the severe fit of sickness which possessed me. Towards the end of the first march I was not able to sit upon the donkey's back; nor would it do, when but a third of the way across the wilderness, to halt until the next day; soldiers were therefore detailed to carry me in a hammock, and, when the terekeza was performed in the afternoon, I lay in a lethargic state, unconscious of all things. With the night passed the fever, and, at 3 o'clock in the morning, when the march was resumed, I was booted and spurred, and the recognized mtongi of my caravan once more. At 8 A.M. we had performed the thirty-two miles. The wilderness of Marenga Mkali had been passed and we had entered Ugogo, which was at once a dreaded land to my caravan, and a Land of Promise to myself. The transition from the wilderness into this Promised Land was very gradual and easy. Very slowly the jungle thinned, the cleared land was a long time appearing, and when it had finally appeared, there were no signs of cultivation until we could clearly make out the herbage and vegetation on some hill slopes to our right running parallel with our route, then we saw timber on the hills, and broad acreage under cultivation--and, lo! as we ascended a wave of reddish earth covered with tall weeds and cane, but a few feet from us, and directly across our path, were the fields of matama and grain we had been looking for, and Ugogo had been entered an hour before. The view was not such as I expected. I had imagined a plateau several hundred feet higher than Marenga Mkali, and an expansive view which should reveal Ugogo and its characteristics at once. But instead, while travelling from the tall weeds which covered the clearing which had preceded the cultivated parts, we had entered into the depths of the taller matama stalks, and, excepting some distant hills near Mvumi, where the Great Sultan lived--the first of the tribe to whom we should pay tribute--the view was extremely limited. However, in the neighbourhood of the first village a glimpse at some of the peculiar features of Ugogo was obtained, and there was a vast plain--now flat, now heaving upwards, here level as a table, there tilted up into rugged knolls bristling with scores of rough boulders of immense size, which lay piled one above another as if the children of a Titanic race had been playing at house-building. Indeed, these piles of rounded, angular, and riven rock formed miniature hills of themselves; and appeared as if each body had been ejected upwards by some violent agency beneath. There was one of these in particular, near Mvumi, which was so large, and being slightly obscured from view by the outspreading branches of a gigantic baobab, bore such a strong resemblance to a square tower of massive dimensions, that for a long time I cherished the idea that I had discovered something most interesting which had strangely escaped the notice of my predecessors in East Africa. A nearer view dispelled the illusion, and proved it to be a huge cube of rock, measuring about forty feet each way. The baobabs were also particularly conspicuous on this scene, no other kind of tree being visible in the cultivated parts. These had probably been left for two reasons: first, want of proper axes for felling trees of such enormous growth; secondly, because during a famine the fruit of the baobab furnishes a flour which, in the absence of anything better, is said to be eatable and nourishing. The first words I heard in Ugogo were from a Wagogo elder, of sturdy form, who in an indolent way tended the flocks, but showed a marked interest in the stranger clad in white flannels, with a Hawkes' patent cork solar topee on his head, a most unusual thing in Ugogo, who came walking past him, and there were "Yambo, Musungu, Yambo, bana, bana," delivered with a voice loud enough to make itself heard a full mile away. No sooner had the greeting been delivered than the word "Musungu" seemed to electrify his entire village; and the people of other villages, situated at intervals near the road, noting the excitement that reigned at the first, also participated in the general frenzy which seemed suddenly to have possessed them. I consider my progress from the first village to Mvumi to have been most triumphant; for I was accompanied by a furious mob of men, women, and children, all almost as naked as Mother Eve when the world first dawned upon her in the garden of Eden, fighting, quarrelling, jostling, staggering against each other for the best view of the white man, the like of whom was now seen for the first time in this part of Ugogo. The cries of admiration, such as "Hi-le!" which broke often and in confused uproar upon my ear, were not gratefully accepted, inasmuch as I deemed many of them impertinent. A respectful silence and more reserved behaviour would have won my esteem; but, ye powers, who cause etiquette to be observed in Usungu,* respectful silence, reserved behaviour, and esteem are terms unknown in savage Ugogo. Hitherto I had compared myself to a merchant of Bagdad travelling among the Kurds of Kurdistan, selling his wares of Damascus silk, kefiyehs, &c.; but now I was compelled to lower my standard, and thought myself not much better than a monkey in a zoological collection. One of my soldiers requested them to lessen their vociferous noise; but the evil-minded race ordered him to shut up, as a thing unworthy to speak to the Wagogo! When I imploringly turned to the Arabs for counsel in this strait, old Sheikh Thani, always worldly wise, said, "Heed them not; they are dogs who bite besides barking." -------- * White man's land. -------- At 9 A.M. we were in our boma, near Mvumi village; but here also crowds of Wagogo came to catch a glimpse of the Musungu, whose presence was soon made known throughout the district of Mvumi. But two hours later I was oblivious of their endeavours to see me; for, despite repeated doses of quinine, the mukunguru had sure hold of me. The next day was a march of eight miles, from East Mvumi to West Mvumi, where lived the Sultan of the district. The quantity and variety of provisions which arrived at our boma did not belie the reports respecting the productions of Ugogo. Milk, sour and sweet, honey, beans, matama, maweri, Indian corn, ghee, pea-nuts, and a species of bean-nut very like a large pistachio or an almond, water-melons, pumpkins, mush-melons, and cucumbers were brought, and readily exchanged for Merikani, Kaniki, and for the white Merikani beads and Sami-Sami, or Sam-Sam. The trade and barter which progressed in the camp from morning till night reminded me of the customs existing among the Gallas and Abyssinians. Eastward, caravans were obliged to despatch men with cloth, to purchase from the villagers. This was unnecessary in Ugogo, where the people voluntarily brought every vendible they possessed to the camp. The smallest breadth of white or blue cloth became saleable and useful in purchasing provisions--even a loin-cloth worn threadbare. The day after our march was a halt. We had fixed this day for bearing the tribute to the Great Sultan of Mvumi. Prudent and cautious Sheikh Thani early began this important duty, the omission of which would have been a signal for war. Hamed and Thani sent two faithful slaves, well up to the eccentricities of the Wagogo sultans--well spoken, having glib tongues and the real instinct for trade as carried on amongst Orientals. They bore six doti of cloths, viz., one doti of Dabwani Ulyah contributed by myself, also one doti of Barsati from me, two doti Merikani Satine from Sheikh Thani, and two doti of Kaniki from Sheikh Hamed, as a first instalment of the tribute. The slaves were absent a full hour, but having wasted their powers of pleading, in vain, they returned with the demand for more, which Sheikh Thani communicated to me in this wise: "Auf! this Sultan is a very bad man--a very bad man indeed; he says, the Musungu is a great man, I call him a sultan; the Musungu is very rich, for he has several caravans already gone past; the Musungu must pay forty doti, and the Arabs must pay twelve doti each, for they have rich caravans. It is of no use for you to tell me you are all one caravan, otherwise why so many flags and tents? Go and bring me sixty doti, with less I will not be satisfied." I suggested to Sheikh Thani, upon hearing this exorbitant demand, that had I twenty Wasungu* armed with Winchester repeating rifles, the Sultan might be obliged to pay tribute to me; but Thani prayed and begged me to be cautious lest angry words might irritate the Sultan and cause him to demand a double tribute, as he was quite capable of doing so; "and if you preferred war," said he, "your pagazis would all desert, and leave you and your cloth to the small mercy of the Wagogo." But I hastened to allay his fears by telling Bombay, in his presence, that I had foreseen such demands on the part of the Wagogo, and that having set aside one hundred and twenty doti of honga cloths, I should not consider myself a sufferer if the Sultan demanded and I paid forty cloths to him; that he must therefore open the honga bale, and permit Sheikh Thani to extract such cloths as the Sultan might like. Sheikh Thani, having put on the cap of consideration and joined heads with Hamed and the faithful serviles, thought if I paid twelve doti, out of which three should be of Ulyah+ quality, that the Sultan might possibly condescend to accept our tribute; supposing he was persuaded by the oratorical words of the "Faithfuls," that the Musungu had nothing with him but the mashiwa (boat), which would be of no use to him, come what might,--with which prudent suggestion the Musungu concurred, seeing its wisdom. * White men. + Best, or superior. The slaves departed, bearing this time from our boma thirty doti, with our best wishes for their success. In an hour they returned with empty hands, but yet unsuccessful. The Sultan demanded six doti of Merikani, and a fundo of bubu, from the Musungu; and from the Arabs and other caravans, twelve doti more. For the third time the slaves departed for the Sultan's tembe, carrying with them six doti Merikani and a fundo of bubu from myself, and ten doti from the Arabs. Again they returned to us with the Sultan's words, "That, as the doti of the Musungu were short measure, and the cloths of the Arabs of miserable quality, the Musungu must send three doti full measure, and the Arabs five doti of Kaniki." My three doti were at once measured out with the longest fore-arm--according to Kigogo measure--and sent off by Bombay; but the Arabs, almost in despair, declared they would be ruined if they gave way to such demands, and out of the five doti demanded sent only two, with a pleading to the Sultan that he would consider what was paid as just and fair Muhongo, and not ask any more. But the Sultan of Mvumi was by no means disposed to consider any such proposition, but declared he must have three doti, and these to be two of Ulyah cloth, and one Kitambi Barsati, which, as he was determined to obtain, were sent to him heavy with the deep maledictions of Sheikh Hamed and the despairing sighs of sheikh Thani. Altogether the sultanship of a district in Ugogo must be very remunerative, besides being a delightful sinecure, so long as the Sultan has to deal with timid Arab merchants who fear to exhibit anything approaching to independence and self-reliance, lest they might be mulcted in cloth. In one day from one camp the sultan received forty-seven doti, consisting of Merikani, Kaniki, Barsati, and Dabwani, equal to $35.25, besides seven doti of superior cloths, consisting of Rehani, Sohari, and Daobwani Ulyah, and one fundo of Bubu, equal to $14.00, making a total of $49.25--a most handsome revenue for a Mgogo chief. On the 27th May we gladly shook the dust of Mvumi from our feet, and continued on our route--ever westward. Five of my donkeys had died the night before, from the effects of the water of Marenga Mkali. Before leaving the camp of Mvumi, I went to look at their carcases; but found them to have been clean picked by the hyaenas, and the bones taken possession of by an army of white-necked crows. As we passed the numerous villages, and perceived the entire face of the land to be one vast field of grain, and counted the people halted by scores on the roadside to feast their eyes with a greedy stare on the Musungu, I no longer wondered at the extortionate demands of the Wagogo. For it was manifest that they had but to stretch out their hands to possess whatever the wealth of a caravan consisted of; and I began to think better of the people who, knowing well their strength, did not use it--of people who were intellectual enough to comprehend that their interest lay in permitting the caravans to pass on without attempting any outrage. Between Mvumi and the nest Sultan's district, that of Matamburu, I counted no less than twenty-five villages, scattered over the clayey, coloured plain. Despite the inhospitable nature of the plain, it was better cultivated than any part of any other country we had seen since leaving Bagamoyo. When we had at last arrived at our boma of Matamburu, the same groups of curious people, the same eager looks, the same exclamations of surprise, the same, peals of laughter, at something they deemed ludicrous in the Musungu's dress or manner, awaited us, as at Mvumi. The Arabs being "Wakonongo" travellers, whom they saw every day, enjoyed a complete immunity from the vexations which we had to endure. The Sultan of Matamburu, a man of herculean form, and massive head well set on shoulders that might vie with those of Milo, proved to be a very reasonable person. Not quite so powerful as the Sultan of Mvumi, he yet owned a fair share of Ugogo and about forty villages, and could, if he chose, have oppressed the mercantile souls of my Arab companions, in the same way as he of Mvumi. Four doti of cloth were taken to him as a preliminary offering to his greatness, which he said he would accept, if the Arabs and Musungu would send him four more. As his demands were so reasonable, this little affair was soon terminated to everybody's satisfaction; and soon after, the kirangozi of Sheikh Hamed sounded the signal for the morrow's march. At the orders of the same Sheikh, the kirangozi stood up to speak before the assembled caravans. "Words, words, from the Bana," he shouted. "Give ear, kirangozis! Listen, children of Unyamwezi! The journey is for to-morrow! The road is crooked and bad, bad! The jungle is there, and many Wagogo lie hidden within it! Wagogo spear the pagazis, and cut the throats of those who carry mutumba (bales) and ushanga (beads)! The Wagogo have been to our camp, they have seen your bales; to-night they seek the jungle: to-morrow watch well, O Wanyamwezi! Keep close together, lag not behind! Kirangozis walk slow, that the weak, the sick, and the young may keep up with the strong! Take two rests on the journey! These are the words of the Bana (master). Do you hear them, Wanyamwezi? (A loud shout in the affirmative from all.) Do you understand them well? (another chorus); then Bas;" having said which, the eloquent kirangozi retired into the dark night, and his straw hut. The march to Bihawana, our next camp, was rugged and long, through a continuous jungle of gums and thorns, up steep hills and finally over a fervid plain, while the sun waxed hotter and hotter as it drew near the meridian, until it seemed to scorch all vitality from inanimate nature, while the view was one white blaze, unbearable to the pained sight, which sought relief from the glare in vain. Several sandy watercourses, on which were impressed many a trail of elephants, were also passed on this march. The slope of these stream-beds trended south-east and south. In the middle of this scorching plain stood the villages of Bihawana, almost undistinguishable, from the extreme lowness of the huts, which did not reach the height of the tall bleached grass which stood smoking in the untempered heat. Our camp was in a large boma, about a quarter of a mile from the Sultan's tembe. Soon after arriving at the camp, I was visited by three Wagogo, who asked me if I had seen a Mgogo on the road with a woman and child. I was about to answer, very innocently, "Yes," when Mabruki--cautious and watchful always for the interests of the master--requested me not to answer, as the Wagogo, as customary, would charge me with having done away with them, and would require their price from me. Indignant at the imposition they were about to practise upon me, I was about to raise my whip to flog them out of the camp, when again Mabruki, with a roaring voice, bade me beware, for every blow would cost me three or four doti of cloth. As I did not care to gratify my anger at such an expense, I was compelled to swallow my wrath, and consequently the Wagogo escaped chastisement. We halted for one day at this place, which was a great relief to me, as I was suffering severely from intermittent fever, which lasted in this case two weeks, and entirely prevented my posting my diary in full, as was my custom every evening after a march. The Sultan of Bihawana, though his subjects were evil-disposed, and ready-handed at theft and murder, contented himself with three doti as honga. From this chief I received news of my fourth caravan, which had distinguished itself in a fight with some outlawed subjects of his; my soldiers had killed two who had attempted, after waylaying a couple of my pagazis, to carry away a bale of cloth and a bag of beads; coming up in time, the soldiers decisively frustrated the attempt. The Sultan thought that if all caravans were as well guarded as mine were, there would be less depredations committed on them while on the road; with which I heartily agreed. The next sultan's tembe through whose territory we marched, this being on the 30th May, was at Kididimo, but four miles from Bihawna. The road led through a flat elongated plain, lying between two lengthy hilly ridges, thickly dotted with the giant forms of the baobab. Kididimo is exceedingly bleak in aspect. Even the faces of the Wagogo seemed to have contracted a bleak hue from the general bleakness around. The water of the pits obtained in the neighbourhood had an execrable flavor, and two donkeys sickened and died in less than an hour from its effects. Man suffered nausea and a general irritability of the system, and accordingly revenged himself by cursing the country and its imbecile ruler most heartily. The climax came, however, when Bombay reported, after an attempt to settle the Muhongo, that the chief's head had grown big since he heard that the Musungu had come, and that its "bigness" could not be reduced unless he could extract ten doti as tribute. Though the demand was large, I was not in a humour--being feeble, and almost nerveless, from repeated attacks of the Mukunguru--to dispute the sum: consequently it was paid without many words. But the Arabs continued the whole afternoon negotiating, and at the end had to pay eight doti each. Between Kididimo and Nyambwa, the district of the Sultan Pembera Pereh, was a broad and lengthy forest and jungle inhabited by the elephant, rhinoceros, zebra, deer, antelope, and giraffe. Starting at dawn of the 31st; we entered the jungle, whose dark lines and bosky banks were clearly visible from our bower at Kididimo; and, travelling for two hours, halted for rest and breakfast, at pools of sweet water surrounded by tracts of vivid green verdure, which were a great resort for the wild animals of the jungle, whose tracks were numerous and recent. A narrow nullah, shaded deeply with foliage, afforded excellent retreats from the glaring sunshine. At meridian, our thirst quenched, our hunger satisfied, our gourds refilled, we set out from the shade into the heated blaze of hot noon. The path serpentined in and out of jungle, and thin forest, into open tracts of grass bleached white as stubble, into thickets of gums and thorns, which emitted an odour as rank as a stable; through clumps of wide-spreading mimosa and colonies of baobab, through a country teeming with noble game, which, though we saw them frequently, were yet as safe from our rifles as if we had been on the Indian Ocean. A terekeza, such as we were now making, admits of no delay. Water we had left behind at noon: until noon of the next day not a drop was to be obtained; and unless we marched fast and long on this day, raging thirst would demoralize everybody. So for six long weary hours we toiled bravely; and at sunset we camped, and still a march of two hours, to be done before the sun was an hour high, intervened between us and our camp at Nyambwa. That night the men bivouacked under the trees, surrounded by many miles of dense forest, enjoying the cool night unprotected by hat or tent, while I groaned and tossed throughout the night in a paroxysm of fever. The morn came; and, while it was yet young, the long caravan, or string of caravans, was under way. It was the same forest, admitting, on the narrow line which we threaded, but one man at a time. Its view was as limited. To our right and left the forest was dark and deep. Above was a riband of glassy sky flecked by the floating nimbus. We heard nothing save a few stray notes from a flying bird, or the din of the caravans as the men sang, or hummed, or conversed, or shouted, as the thought struck them that we were nearing water. One of my pagazis, wearied and sick, fell, and never rose again. The last of the caravan passed him before he died. At 7 A.M. we were encamped at Nyambwa, drinking the excellent water found here with the avidity of thirsty camels. Extensive fields of grain had heralded the neighbourhood of the villages, at the sight of which we were conscious that the caravan was quickening its pace, as approaching its halting-place. As the Wasungu drew within the populated area, crowds of Wagogo used their utmost haste to see them before they passed by. Young and old of both genders pressed about us in a multitude--a very howling mob. This excessive demonstrativeness elicited from my sailor overseer the characteristic remark, "Well, I declare, these must be the genuine Ugogians, for they stare! stare--there is no end to their staring. I'm almost tempted to slap 'em in the face!" In fact, the conduct of the Wagogo of Nyambwa was an exaggeration of the general conduct of Wagogo. Hitherto, those we had met had contented themselves with staring and shouting; but these outstepped all bounds, and my growing anger at their excessive insolence vented itself in gripping the rowdiest of them by the neck, and before he could recover from his astonishment administering a sound thrashing with my dog-whip, which he little relished. This proceeding educed from the tribe of starers all their native power of vituperation and abuse, in expressing which they were peculiar. Approaching in manner to angry tom-cats, they jerked their words with something of a splitting hiss and a half bark. The ejaculation, as near as I can spell it phonetically, was "hahcht" uttered in a shrill crescendo tone. They paced backwards and forwards, asking themselves, "Are the Wagoga to be beaten like slaves by this Musungu? A Mgogo is a Mgwana (a free man); he is not used to be beaten,--hahcht." But whenever I made motion, flourishing my whip, towards them, these mighty braggarts found it convenient to move to respectable distances from the irritated Musungu. Perceiving that a little manliness and show of power was something which the Wagogo long needed, and that in this instance it relieved me from annoyance, I had recourse to my whip, whose long lash cracked like a pistol shot, whenever they overstepped moderation. So long as they continued to confine their obtrusiveness to staring, and communicating to each other their opinions respecting my complexion, and dress, and accoutrements, I philosophically resigned myself in silence for their amusement; but when they pressed on me, barely allowing me to proceed, a few vigorous and rapid slashes right and left with my serviceable thong, soon cleared the track. Pembera Pereh is a queer old man, very small, and would be very insignificant were he not the greatest sultan in Ugogo; and enjoying a sort of dimediate power over many other tribes. Though such an important chief, he is the meanest dressed of his subjects,--is always filthy,--ever greasy--eternally foul about the mouth; but these are mere eccentricities: as a wise judge, he is without parallel, always has a dodge ever ready for the abstraction of cloth from the spiritless Arab merchants, who trade with Unyanyembe every year; and disposes with ease of a judicial case which would overtask ordinary men. Sheikh Hamed, who was elected guider of the united caravans now travelling through Ugogo, was of such a fragile and small make, that he might be taken for an imitation of his famous prototype "Dapper." Being of such dimensions, what he lacked for weight and size he made up by activity. No sooner had he arrived in camp than his trim dapper form was seen frisking about from side to side of the great boma, fidgeting, arranging, disturbing everything and everybody. He permitted no bales or packs to be intermingled, or to come into too close proximity to his own; he had a favourite mode of stacking his goods, which he would see carried out; he had a special eye for the best place for his tent, and no one else must trespass on that ground. One would imagine that walking ten or fifteen miles a day, he would leave such trivialities to his servants, but no, nothing could be right unless he had personally superintended it; in which work he was tireless and knew no fatigue. Another not uncommon peculiarity pertained to Sheikh Hamed; as he was not a rich man, he laboured hard to make the most of every shukka and doti expended, and each fresh expenditure seemed to gnaw his very vitals: he was ready to weep, as he himself expressed it, at the high prices of Ugogo, and the extortionate demands of its sultans. For this reason, being the leader of the caravans, so far as he was able we were very sure not to be delayed in Ugogo, where food was so dear. The day we arrived at Nyambwa will be remembered by Hamed as long as he lives, for the trouble and vexation which he suffered. His misfortunes arose from the fact that, being too busily engaged in fidgeting about the camp, he permitted his donkeys to stray into the matama fields of Pembera Pereh, the Sultan. For hours he and his servants sought for the stray donkeys, returning towards evening utterly unsuccessful, Hamed bewailing, as only an Oriental can do, when hard fate visits him with its inflictions, the loss of a hundred do dollars worth of Muscat donkeys. Sheikh Thani, older, more experienced, and wiser, suggested to him that he should notify the Sultan of his loss. Acting upon the sagacious advice, Hamed sent an embassy of two slaves, and the information they brought back was, that Pembera Pereh's servants had found the two donkeys eating the unripened matama, and that unless the Arab who owned them would pay nine doti of first-class cloths, he, Pembera Pereh, would surely keep them to remunerate him for the matama they had eaten. Hamed was in despair. Nine doti of first-class cloths, worth $25 in Unyanyembe, for half a chukka's worth of grain, was, as he thought, an absurd demand; but then if he did not pay it, what would become of the hundred dollars' worth of donkeys? He proceeded to the Sultan to show him the absurdity of the damage claim, and to endeavour to make him accept one chukka, which would be more than double the worth of what grain the donkeys had consumed. But the Sultan was sitting on pombe; he was drunk, which I believe to be his normal state--too drunk to attend to business, consequently his deputy, a renegade Mnyamwezi, gave ear to the business. With most of the Wagogo chiefs lives a Mnyamwezi, as their right-hand man, prime minister, counsellor, executioner, ready man at all things save the general good; a sort of harlequin Unyamwezi, who is such an intriguing, restless, unsatisfied person, that as soon as one hears that this kind of man forms one of and the chief of a Mgogo sultan's council, one feels very much tempted to do damage to his person. Most of the extortions practised upon the Arabs are suggested by these crafty renegades. Sheikh Hamed found that the Mnyamwezi was far more obdurate than the Sultan--nothing under nine doti first-class cloths would redeem the donkeys. The business that day remained unsettled, and the night following was, as one may imagine, a very sleepless one to Hamed. As it turned out, however, the loss of the donkeys, the after heavy fine, and the sleepless night, proved to be blessings in disguise; for, towards midnight, a robber Mgogo visited his camp, and while attempting to steal a bale of cloth, was detected in the act by the wide-awake and irritated Arab, and was made to vanish instantly with a bullet whistling in close proximity to his ear. From each of the principals of the caravans, the Mnyamwezi had received as tribute for his drunken master fifteen doti, and from the other six caravans six doti each, altogether fifty-one doti, yet on the next morning when we took the road he was not a whit disposed to deduct a single cloth from the fine imposed on Hamed, and the unfortunate Sheikh was therefore obliged to liquidate the claim, or leave his donkeys behind. After travelling through the corn-fields of Pembera Pereh we emerged upon a broad flat plain, as level as the still surface of a pond, whence the salt of the Wagogo is obtained. From Kanyenyi on the southern road, to beyond the confines of Uhumba and Ubanarama, this saline field extends, containing many large ponds of salt bitter water whose low banks are covered with an effervescence partaking of the nature of nitrate. Subsequently, two days afterwards, having ascended the elevated ridge which separates Ugogo from Uyanzi, I obtained a view of this immense saline plain, embracing over a hundred square miles. I may have been deceived, but I imagined I saw large expanses of greyish-blue water, which causes me to believe that this salina is but a corner of a great salt lake. The Wahumba, who are numerous, from Nyambwa to the Uyanzi border, informed my soldiers that there was a "Maji Kuba" away to the north. Mizanza, our next camp after Nyambwa, is situated in a grove of palms, about thirteen miles from the latter place. Soon after arriving I had to bury myself under blankets, plagued with the same intermittent fever which first attacked me during the transit of Marenga Mkali. Feeling certain that one day's halt, which would enable me to take regular doses of the invaluable sulphate of quinine, would cure me, I requested Sheikh Thani to tell Hamed to halt on the morrow, as I should be utterly unable to continue thus long, under repeated attacks of a virulent disease which was fast reducing me into a mere frame of skin and bone. Hamed, in a hurry to arrive at Unyanyembe in order to dispose of his cloth before other caravans appeared in the market, replied at first that he would not, that he could not, stop for the Musungu. Upon Thani's reporting his answer to me, I requested him to inform Hamed that, as the Musungu did not wish to detain him, or any other caravan, it was his express wish that Hamed would march and leave him, as he was quite strong enough in guns to march through Ugogo alone. Whatever cause modified the Sheikh's resolution and his anxiety to depart, Hamed's horn signal for the march was not heard that night, and on the morrow he had not gone. Early in the morning I commenced on my quinine doses; at 6 A.M. I took a second dose; before noon I had taken four more--altogether, fifty measured grains-the effect of which was manifest in the copious perspiration which drenched flannels, linen, and blankets. After noon I arose, devoutly thankful that the disease which had clung to me for the last fourteen days had at last succumbed to quinine. On this day the lofty tent, and the American flag which ever flew from the centre pole, attracted the Sultan of Mizanza towards it, and was the cause of a visit with which he honoured me. As he was notorious among the Arabs for having assisted Manwa Sera in his war against Sheikh Sny bin Amer, high eulogies upon whom have been written by Burton, and subsequently by Speke, and as he was the second most powerful chief in Ugogo, of course he was quite a curiosity to me. As the tent-door was uplifted that he might enter, the ancient gentleman was so struck with astonishment at the lofty apex, and internal arrangements, that the greasy Barsati cloth which formed his sole and only protection against the chills of night and the heat of noon, in a fit of abstraction was permitted to fall down to his feet, exposing to the Musungu's unhallowed gaze the sad and aged wreck of what must once have been a towering form. His son, a youth of about fifteen, attentive to the infirmities of his father, hastened with filial duty to remind him of his condition, upon which, with an idiotic titter at the incident, he resumed his scanty apparel and sat down to wonder and gibber out his admiration at the tent and the strange things which formed the Musungu's personal baggage and furniture. After gazing in stupid wonder at the table, on which was placed some crockery and the few books I carried with me; at the slung hammock, which he believed was suspended by some magical contrivance; at the portmanteaus which contained my stock of clothes, he ejaculated, "Hi-le! the Musungu is a great sultan, who has come from his country to see Ugogo." He then noticed me, and was again wonder-struck at my pale complexion and straight hair, and the question now propounded was, "How on earth was I white when the sun had burned his people's skins into blackness?" Whereupon he was shown my cork topee, which he tried on his woolly head, much to his own and to our amusement. The guns were next shown to him; the wonderful repeating rifle of the Winchester Company, which was fired thirteen times in rapid succession to demonstrate its remarkable murderous powers. If he was astonished before he was a thousand times more so now, and expressed his belief that the Wagogo could not stand before the Musungu in battle, for wherever a Mgogo was seen such a gun would surely kill him. Then the other firearms were brought forth, each with its peculiar mechanism explained, until, in, a burst of enthusiasm at my riches and power, he said he would send me a sheep or goat, and that he would be my brother. I thanked him for the honour, and promised to accept whatever he was pleased to send me. At the instigation of Sheikh Thani, who acted as interpreter, who said that Wagogo chiefs must not depart with empty hands, I cut off a shukka of Kaniki and presented it to him, which, after being examined and measured, was refused upon the ground that, the Musungu being a great sultan should not demean himself so much as to give him only a shukka. This, after the twelve doti received as muhongo from the caravans, I thought, was rather sore; but as he was about to present me with a sheep or goat another shukka would not matter much. Shortly after he departed, and true to his promise, I received a large, fine sheep, with a broad tail, heavy with fat; but with the words: "That being now his brother, I must send him three doti of good cloth." As the price of a sheep is but a doti and a half, I refused the sheep and the fraternal honour, upon the ground that the gifts were all on one side; and that, as I had paid muhongo, and given him a doti of Kaniki as a present, I could not, afford to part with any more cloth without an adequate return. During the afternoon one more of my donkeys died, and at night the hyaenas came in great numbers to feast upon the carcase. Ulimengo, the chasseur, and best shot of my Wangwana, stole out and succeeded in shooting two, which turned out to be some of the largest of their kind.. One of them measured six feet from the tip of the nose to the extremity of the tail, and three feet around the girth. On the 4th. June we struck camp, and after travelling westward for about three miles, passing several ponds of salt water, we headed north by west, skirting the range of low hills which separates Ugogo from Uyanzi. After a three hours' march, we halted for a short time at Little Mukondoku, to settle tribute with the brother of him who rules at Mukondoku Proper. Three doti satisfied the Sultan, whose district contains but two villages, mostly occupied by pastoral Wahumba and renegade Wahehe. The Wahumba live in plastered (cow-dung) cone huts, shaped like the tartar tents of Turkestan. The Wahumba, so far as I have seen them, are a fine and well-formed race. The men are positively handsome, tall, with small heads, the posterior parts of which project considerably. One will look in vain for a thick lip or a flat nose amongst them; on the contrary, the mouth is exceedingly well cut, delicately small; the nose is that of the Greeks, and so universal was the peculiar feature, that I at once named them the Greeks of Africa. Their lower limbs have not the heaviness of the Wagogo and other tribes, but are long and shapely, clean as those of an antelope. Their necks are long and slender, on which their small heads are poised most gracefully. Athletes from their youth, shepherd bred, and intermarrying among themselves, thus keeping the race pure, any of them would form a fit subject for the sculptor who would wish to immortalize in marble an Antinous, a Hylas, a Daphnis, or an Apollo. The women are as beautiful as the men are handsome. They have clear ebon skins, not coal-black, but of an inky hue. Their ornaments consist of spiral rings of brass pendent from the ears, brass ring collars about the necks, and a spiral cincture of brass wire about their loins for the purpose of retaining their calf and goat skins, which are folded about their bodies, and, depending from the shoulder, shade one half of the bosom, and fall to the knees. The Wahehe may be styled the Romans of Africa. Resuming our march, after a halt of an hour, in foul hours more we arrived at Mukondoku Proper. This extremity of Ugogo is most populous, The villages which surround the central tembe, where the Sultan Swaruru lives, amount to thirty-six. The people who flocked from these to see the wonderful men whose faces were white, who wore the most wonderful things on their persons, and possessed the most wonderful weapons; guns which "bum-bummed" as fast as you could count on your fingers, formed such a mob of howling savages, that I for an instant thought there was something besides mere curiosity which caused such commotion, and attracted such numbers to the roadside. Halting, I asked what was the matter, and what they wanted, and why they made such noise? One burly rascal, taking my words for a declaration of hostilities, promptly drew his bow, but as prompt as he had fixed his arrow my faithful Winchester with thirteen shots in the magazine was ready and at the shoulder, and but waited to see the arrow fly to pour the leaden messengers of death into the crowd. But the crowd vanished as quickly as they had come, leaving the burly Thersites, and two or three irresolute fellows of his tribe, standing within pistol range of my levelled rifle. Such a sudden dispersion of the mob which, but a moment before, was overwhelming in numbers, caused me to lower my rifle, and to indulge in a hearty laugh at the disgraceful flight of the men-destroyers. The Arabs, who were as much alarmed at their boisterous obtrusiveness, now came up to patch a truce, in which they succeeded to everybody's satisfaction. A few words of explanation, and the mob came back in greater numbers than before; and the Thersites who had been the cause of the momentary disturbance was obliged to retire abashed before the pressure of public opinion. A chief now came up, whom I afterwards learned was the second man to Swaruru, and lectured the people upon their treatment of the "White Stranger." "Know ye not, Wagogo," shouted he, "that this Musungu is a sultan (mtemi--a most high title). He has not come to Ugogo like the Wakonongo (Arabs), to trade in ivory, but to see us, and give presents. Why do you molest him and his people? Let them pass in peace. If you wish to see him, draw near, but do not mock him. The first of you who creates a disturbance, let him beware; our great mtemi shall know how you treat his friends." This little bit of oratorical effort on the part of the chief was translated to me there and then by the old Sheik Thani; which having understood, I bade the Sheikh inform the chief that, after I had rested, I should like him to visit me in my tent. Having arrived at the khambi, which always surrounds some great baobab in Ugogo, at the distance of about half a mile from the tembe of the Sultan, the Wagogo pressed in such great numbers to the camp that Sheikh Thani resolved to make an effort to stop or mitigate the nuisance. Dressing himself in his best clothes, he went to appeal to the Sultan for protection against his people. The Sultan was very much inebriated, and was pleased to say, "What is it you want, you thief? You have come to steal my ivory or my cloth. Go away, thief!" But the sensible chief, whose voice had just been heard reproaching the people for their treatment of the Wasungu, beckoned to Thani to come out of the tembe, and then proceeded with him towards the khambi. The camp was in a great uproar; the curious Wagogo monopolized almost every foot of ground; there was no room to turn anywhere. The Wanyamwezi were quarreling with the Wagogo, the Wasawahili servants were clamoring loud that the Wagogo pressed down their tents, and that the property of the masters was in danger; while I, busy on my diary within my tent, cared not how great was the noise and confusion outside as long as it confined itself to the Wagogo, Wanyamwezi, and Wangwana. The presence of the chief in the camp was followed by a deep silence that I was prevailed upon to go outside to see what had caused it. The chief's words were few, and to the point. He said, "To your tembes, Wagogo--to your tembes! Why, do you come to trouble the Wakonongo: What have you to do with them? To your tembes: go! Each Mgogo found in the khambi without meal, without cattle to sell, shall pay to the mtemi cloth or cows. Away with you!" Saying which, he snatched up a stick and drove the hundreds out of the khambi, who were as obedient to him as so many children. During the two days we halted at Mukondoku we saw no more of the mob, and there was peace. The muhongo of the Sultan Swaruru was settled with few words. The chief who acted for the Sultan as his prime minister having been "made glad" with a doti of Rehani Ulyah from me, accepted the usual tribute of six doti, only one of which was of first-class cloth. There remained but one more sultan to whom muhongo must be paid after Mukondoku, and this was the Sultan of Kiwyeh, whose reputation was so bad that owners of property who had control over their pagazis seldom passed by Kiwyeh, preferring the hardships of long marches through the wilderness to the rudeness and exorbitant demands of the chief of Kiwyeh. But the pagazis, on whom no burden or responsibility fell save that of carrying their loads, who could use their legs and show clean heels in the case of a hostile outbreak, preferred the march to Kiwyeh to enduring thirst and the fatigue of a terekeza. Often the preference of the pagazis won the day, when their employers were timid, irresolute men, like Sheikh Hamed. The 7th of June was the day fixed for our departure from Mukondoku, so the day before, the Arabs came to my tent to counsel with me as to the route we should adopt. On calling together the kirangozis of the respective caravans and veteran Wanyamwezi pagazis, we learned there were three roads leading from Mukondoku to Uyanzi. The first was the southern road, and the one generally adopted, for the reasons already stated, and led by Kiwyeh. To this Hamed raised objections. "The Sultan was bad," he said; "he sometimes charged a caravan twenty doti; our caravan would have to pay about sixty doti. The Kiwyeh road would not do at all. Besides," he added, "we have to make a terekeza to reach Kiwyeh, and then we will not reach it before the day after to-morrow." The second was the central road. We should arrive at Munieka on the morrow; the day after would be a terekeza from Mabunguru Nullah to a camp near Unyambogi; two hours the next day would bring us to Kiti, where there was plenty of water and food. As neither of the kirangozis or Arabs knew this road, and its description came from one of my ancient pagazis, Hamed said he did not like to trust the guidance of such a large caravan in the hands of an old Mnyamwezi, and would therefore prefer to hear about the third road, before rendering his decision. The third road was the northern. It led past numerous villages of the Wagogo for the first two hours; then we should strike a jungle; and a three hours' march would then bring us to Simbo, where there was water, but no village. Starting early next morning, we would travel six hours when we would arrive at a pool of water. Here taking a short rest, an afternoon march of five hours would bring us within three hours of another village. As this last road was known to many, Hamed said, "Sheikh Thani, tell the Sahib that I think this is the best road." Sheikh Thani was told, after he had informed me that, as I had marched with them through Ugogo, if they decided upon going by Simbo, my caravan would follow. Immediately after the discussion among the principals respecting the merits of the several routes, arose a discussion among the pagazis which resulted in an obstinate clamor against the Simbo road, for its long terekeza and scant prospects of water, the dislike to the Simbo road communicated itself to all the caravans, and soon it was magnified by reports of a wilderness reaching from Simbo to Kusuri, where there was neither food nor water to be obtained. Hamed's pagazis, and those of the Arab servants, rose in a body and declared they could not go on that march, and if Hamed insisted upon adopting it they would put their packs down and leave him to carry them himself. Hamed Kimiani, as he was styled by the Arabs, rushed up to Sheikh Thani, and declared that he must take the Kiwyeh road, otherwise his pagazis would all desert. Thani replied that all the roads were the same to him, that wherever Hamed chose to go, he would follow. They then came to my tent, and informed me of the determination at which the Wanyamwezi had arrived. Calling my veteran Mnyamwezi, who had given me the favourable report once more to my tent, I bade him give a correct account of the Kiti road. It was so favourable that my reply to Hamed was, that I was the master of my caravan, that it was to go wherever I told the kirangozi, not where the pagazis chose; that when I told them to halt they must halt, and when I commanded a march, a march should be made; and that as I fed them well and did not overwork them, I should like to see the pagazi or soldier that disobeyed me. "You made up your mind just now that you would take the Simbo road, and we were agreed upon it, now your pagazis say they will take, the Kiwyeh road, or desert. Go on the Kiwyeh road and pay twenty doti muhongo. I and my caravan to-morrow morning will take the Kiti road, and when you find me in Unyanyembe one day ahead of you, you will be sorry you did not take the same road." This resolution of mine had the effect of again changing the current of Hamed's thoughts, for he instantly said, "That is the best road after all, and as the Sahib is determined to go on it, and we have all travelled together through the bad land of the Wagogo, Inshallah! let us all go the same way," and Thani=-good old man--not objecting, and Hamed having decided, they both joyfully went out of the tent to communicate the news. On the 7th the caravans--apparently unanimous that the Kiti road was to be taken--were led as usual by Hamed's kirangozi. We had barely gone a mile before I perceived that we had left the Simbo road, had taken the direction of Kiti, and, by a cunning detour, were now fast approaching the defile of the mountain ridge before us, which admitted access to the higher plateau of Kiwyeh. Instantly halting my caravan, I summoned the veteran who had travelled by Kiti, and asked him whether we were not going towards Kiwyeh. He replied that we were. Calling my pagazis together, I bade Bombay tell them that the Musuugu never changed his mind; that as I had said my caravan should march by Kiti; to Kiti it must go whether the Arabs followed or not. I then ordered the veteran to take up his load and show the kirangozi the proper road to Kiti. The Wanyamwezi pagazis put down their bales, and then there was every indication of a mutiny. The Wangwana soldiers were next ordered to load their guns and to flank the caravan, and shoot the first pagazis who made an attempt to run away. Dismounting, I seized my whip, and, advancing towards the first pagazi who had put down his load, I motioned to him to take up his load and march. It was unnecessary to proceed further; without an exception, all marched away obediently after the kirangozi. I was about bidding farewell to Thani, and Hamed, when Thani said, "Stop a bit, Sahib; I have had enough of this child's play; I come with you," and his caravan was turned after mine. Hamed's caravan was by this time close to the defile, and he himself was a full mile behind it, weeping like a child at what he was pleased to call our desertion of him. Pitying his strait--for he was almost beside himself as thoughts of Kiwyeh's sultan, his extortion and rudeness, swept across his mind--I advised him to run after his caravan, and tell it, as all the rest had taken the other road, to think of the Sultan of Kiwyeh. Before reaching the Kiti defile I was aware that Hamed's caravan was following us. The ascent of the ridge was rugged and steep, thorns of the prickliest nature punished us severely, the _acacia horrida_ was here more horrid than usual, the gums stretched out their branches, and entangled the loads, the mimosa with its umbrella-like top served to shade us from the sun, but impeded a rapid advance. Steep outcrops of syenite and granite, worn smooth by many feet, had to be climbed over, rugged terraces of earth and rock had to be ascended, and distant shots resounding through the forest added to the alarm and general discontent, and had I not been immediately behind my caravan, watchful of every manoeuvre, my Wanyamwezi had deserted to a man. Though the height we ascended was barely 800 feet above the salina we had just left, the ascent occupied two hours. Having surmounted the plateau and the worst difficulties, we had a fair road comparatively, which ran through jungle, forest, and small open tracts, which in three hours more brought us to Munieka, a small village, surrounded by a clearing richly cultivated by a colony of subjects of Swaruru of Mukondoku. By the time we had arrived at camp everybody had recovered his good humour and content except Hamed. Thani's men happened to set his tent too close to Hamed's tree, around which his bales were stacked. Whether the little Sheikh imagined honest old Thani capable of stealing one is not known, but it is certain that he stormed and raved about the near neighbourhood of his best friend's tent, until Thani ordered its removal a hundred yards off. This proceeding even, it seems, did not satisfy Hamed, for it was quite midnight--as Thani said--when Hamed came, and kissing his hands and feet, on his knees implored forgiveness, which of course Thani, being the soul of good-nature, and as large-hearted as any man, willingly gave. Hamed was not satisfied, however, until, with the aid of his slaves, he had transported his friend's tent to where it had at first been pitched. The water at Munieka was obtained from a deep depression in a hump of syenite, and was as clear as crystal, and' cold as ice-water--a luxury we had not experienced since leaving Simbamwenni. We were now on the borders of Uyanzi, or, as it is better known, "Magunda Mkali "--the Hot-ground, or Hot-field. We had passed the village populated by Wagogo, and were about to shake the dust of Ugogo from our feet. We had entered Ugogo full of hopes, believing it a most pleasant land--a land flowing with milk and honey. We had been grievously disappointed; it proved to be a land of gall and bitterness, full of trouble and vexation of spirit, where danger was imminent at every step--where we were exposed to the caprice of inebriated sultans. Is it a wonder, then, that all felt happy at such a moment? With the prospect before us of what was believed by many to be a real wilderness, our ardor was not abated, but was rather strengthened. The wilderness in Africa proves to be, in many instances, more friendly than the populated country. The kirangozi blew his kudu horn much more merrily on this morning than he was accustomed to do while in Ugogo. We were about to enter Magunda Mkali. At 9 A.M., three hours after leaving Munieka, and two hours since we had left the extreme limits of Ugogo, we were halted at Mabunguru Nullah. The Nullah runs southwesterly after leaving its source in the chain of hills dividing Ugogo from Magunda Mkali. During the rainy season it must be nearly impassable, owing to the excessive slope of its bed. Traces of the force of the torrent are seen in the syenite and basalt boulders which encumber the course. Their rugged angles are worn smooth, and deep basins are excavated where the bed is of the rock, which in the dry season serve as reservoirs. Though the water contained in them has a slimy and greenish appearance, and is well populated with frogs, it is by no means unpalatable. At noon we resumed our march, the Wanyamwezi cheering, shouting, and singing, the Wangwana soldiers, servants, and pagazis vieing with them in volume of voice and noise-making the dim forest through which we were now passing resonant with their voices. The scenery was much more picturesque than any we had yet seen since leaving Bagamoyo. The ground rose into grander waves--hills cropped out here and there--great castles of syenite appeared, giving a strange and weird appearance to the forest. From a distance it would almost seem as if we were approaching a bit of England as it must have appeared during feudalism; the rocks assumed such strange fantastic shapes. Now they were round boulders raised one above another, apparently susceptible to every breath of wind; anon, they towered like blunt-pointed obelisks, taller than the tallest trees; again they assumed the shape of mighty waves, vitrified; here, they were a small heap of fractured and riven rock; there, they rose to the grandeur of hills. By 5 P.M. we had travelled twenty miles, and the signal was sounded for a halt. At 1 A.M., the moon being up, Hamed's horn and voice were heard throughout the silent camp awaking his pagazis for the march. Evidently Sheikh Hamed was gone stark mad, otherwise why should he be so frantic for the march at such an early hour? The dew was falling heavily, and chilled one like frost; and an ominous murmur of deep discontent responded to the early call on all sides. Presuming, however, that he had obtained better information than we had, Sheikh Thani and I resolved to be governed as the events proved him to be right or wrong. As all were discontented, this night, march was performed in deep silence. The thermometer was at 53°, we being about 4,500 feet above the level of the sea. The pagazis, almost naked, walked quickly in order to keep warm, and by so doing many a sore foot was made by stumbling against obtrusive roots and rocks, and treading on thorns. At 3 A.M. we arrived at the village of Unyambogi, where we threw ourselves down to rest and sleep until dawn should reveal what else was in store for the hard-dealt-with caravans. It was broad daylight when I awoke; the sun was flaring his hot beams in my face. Sheikh Thani came soon after to inform me that Hamed had gone to Kiti two hours since; but he, when asked to accompany him, positively refused, exclaiming against it as folly, and utterly unnecessary. When my advice was asked by Thani, I voted the whole thing as sheer nonsense; and, in turn, asked him what a terekeza was for? Was it not an afternoon march to enable caravans to reach water and food? Thani replied than it was. I then asked him if there was no water or food to be obtained in Unyambogi. Thani replied that he had not taken pains to inquire, but was told by the villagers that there was an abundance of matamia, hindi, maweri, sheep; goats, and chickens in their village at cheap prices, such as were not known in Ugogo. "Well, then," said I, "if Hamed wants to be a fool, and kill his pagazis, why should we? I have as much cause for haste as Sheikh Hamed; but Unyanyembe is far yet, and I am not going to endanger my property by playing the madman." As Thani had reported, we found an abundance of provisions at the village, and good sweet water from some pits close by. A sheep cost one chukka; six chickens were also purchased at that price; six measures of matama, maweri, or hindi, were procurable for the same sum; in short, we were coming, at last, into the land of plenty. On the 10th June we arrived at Kiti after a journey of four hours and a half, where we found the irrepressible Hamed halted in sore trouble. He who would be a Caesar, proved to be an irresolute Antony. He had to sorrow over the death of a favourite slave girl, the loss of five dish-dashes (Arab shirts), silvered-sleeve and gold-embroidered jackets, with which he had thought to enter Unyanyembe in state, as became a merchant of his standing, which had disappeared with three absconding servants, besides copper trays, rice, and pilau dishes, and two bales of cloth with runaway Wangwana pagazis. Selim, my Arab servant, asked him, "What are you doing here, Sheikh Hamed? I thought you were well on the road to Unyanyembe." Said he, "Could I leave Thani, my friend, behind?" Kiti abounded in cattle and grain, and we were able to obtain food at easy rates. The Wakimbu, emigrants from Ukimbu, near Urori, are a quiet race, preferring the peaceful arts of agriculture to war; of tending their flocks to conquest. At the least rumor of war they remove their property and family, and emigrate to the distant wilderness, where they begin to clear the land, and to hunt the elephant for his ivory. Yet we found them to be a fine race, and well armed, and seemingly capable, by their numbers and arms, to compete with any tribe. But here, as elsewhere, disunion makes them weak. They are mere small colonies, each colony ruled by its own chief; whereas, were they united, they might make a very respectable front before an enemy. Our next destination was Msalalo, distant fifteen miles from Kiti. Hamed, after vainly searching for his runaways and the valuable property he had lost, followed us, and tried once more, when he saw us encamped at Msalalo, to pass us; but his pagazis failed him, the march having been so long. Welled Ngaraiso was reached on the 15th, after a three and a half hours' march. It is a flourishing little place, where provisions were almost twice as cheap as they were at Unyambogi. Two hours' march south is Jiweh la Mkoa, on the old road, towards which the road which we have been travelling since leaving Bagamoyo was now rapidly leading. Unyanyembe being near, the pagazis and soldiers having behaved excellently during the lengthy marches we had lately made, I purchased a bullock for three doti, and had it slaughtered for their special benefit. I also gave each a khete of red beads to indulge his appetite for whatever little luxury the country afforded. Milk and honey were plentiful, and three frasilah of sweet potatoes were bought for a shukka, equal to about 40 cents of our money. The 13th June brought us to the last village of Magunda Mkali, in the district of Jiweh la Singa, after a short march of eight miles and three-quarters. Kusuri--so called by the Arabs--is called Konsuli by the Wakimbu who inhabit it. This is, however, but one instance out of many where the Arabs have misnamed or corrupted the native names of villages and districts. Between Ngaraiso and Kusuri we passed the village of Kirurumo, now a thriving place, with many a thriving village near it. As we passed it, the people came out to greet the Musungu, whose advent had been so long heralded by his loud-mouthed caravans, and whose soldiers had helped them win the day in a battle against their fractious brothers of Jiweh la Mkoa. A little further on we came across a large khambi, occupied by Sultan bin Mohammed, an Omani Arab of high descent, who, as soon as he was notified of my approach, came out to welcome me, and invite me to his khambi. As his harem lodged in his tent, of course I was not invited thither; but a carpet outside was ready for his visitor. After the usual questions had been asked about my health, the news of the road, the latest from Zanzibar and Oman, he asked me if I had much cloth with me. This was a question often asked by owners of down caravans, and the reason of it is that the Arabs, in their anxiety to make as much as possible of their cloth at the ivory ports on the Tanganika and elsewhere, are liable to forget that they should retain a portion for the down marches. As, indeed, I had but a bale left of the quantity of cloth retained for provisioning my party on the road, when outfitting my caravans on the coast, I could unblushingly reply in the negative. I halted a day at Kusuri to give my caravan a rest, after its long series of marches, before venturing on the two days' march through the uninhabited wilderness that separates the district of Jiweh la Singa Uyanzi from the district of Tura in Unyanyembe. Hamed preceded, promising to give Sayd bin Salim notice of my coming, and to request him to provide a tembe for me. On the 15th, having ascertained that Sheikh Thani would be detained several days at Kusuri, owing to the excessive number of his people who were laid up with that dreadful plague of East Africa, the small-pox, I bade him farewell, and my caravan struck out of Kusuri once more for the wilderness and the jungle. A little before noon we halted at the Khambi of Mgongo Tembo, or the Elephant's Back--so called from a wave of rock whose back, stained into dark brownness by atmospheric influences, is supposed by the natives to resemble the blue-brown back of this monster of the forest. My caravan had quite an argument with me here, as to whether we should make the terekeza on this day or on the next. The majority was of the opinion that the next day would be the best for a terekeza; but I, being the "bana," consulting my own interests, insisted, not without a flourish or two of my whip, that the terekeza should be made on this day. Mgongo Tembo, when Burton and Speke passed by, was a promising settlement, cultivating many a fair acre of ground. But two years ago war broke out, for some bold act of its people upon caravans, and the Arabs came from Unyanyembe with their Wangwana servants, attacked them, burnt the villages, and laid waste the work of years. Since that time Mgongo Tembo has been but blackened wrecks of houses, and the fields a sprouting jungle. A cluster of date palm-trees, overtopping a dense grove close to the mtoni of Mgongo Tembo, revived my recollections of Egypt. The banks of the stream, with their verdant foliage, presented a strange contrast to the brown and dry appearance of the jungle which lay on either side. At 1 P.M. we resumed our loads and walking staffs, and in a short time were en route for the Ngwhalah Mtoni, distant eight and three-quarter miles from the khambi. The sun was hot; like a globe of living, seething flame, it flared its heat full on our heads; then as it descended towards the west, scorched the air before it was inhaled by the lungs which craved it. Gourds of water were emptied speedily to quench the fierce heat that burned the throat and lungs. One pagazi, stricken heavily with the small-pox, succumbed, and threw himself down on the roadside to die. We never saw him afterwards, for the progress of a caravan on a terekeza, is something like that of a ship in a hurricane. The caravan must proceed--woe befall him who lags behind, for hunger and thirst will overtake him--so must a ship drive before the fierce gale to escape foundering--woe befall him who falls overboard! An abundance of water, good, sweet, and cool, was found in the bed of the mtoni in deep stony reservoirs. Here also the traces of furious torrents were clearly visible as at Mabunguru. The Nghwhalah commences in Ubanarama to the north--a country famous for its fine breed of donkeys--and after running south, south-south-west, crosses the Unyanyembe road, from which point it has more of a westerly turn. On the 16th we arrived at Madedita, so called from a village which was, but is now no more. Madedita is twelve and a half miles from the Nghwhalah Mtoni. A pool of good water a few hundred yards from the roadside is the only supply caravans can obtain, nearer than Tura in Unyamwezi. The tsetse or chufwa-fly, as called by the Wasawahili, stung us dreadfully, which is a sign that large game visit the pool sometimes, but must not be mistaken for an indication that there is any in the immediate neighbourhood of the water. A single pool so often frequented by passing caravans, which must of necessity halt here, could not be often visited by the animals of the forest, who are shy in this part of Africa of the haunts of man. At dawn the neat day we were on the road striding at a quicker pace than on most days, since we were about to quit Magunda Mali for the more populated and better land of Unyamwezi. The forest held its own for a wearisomely long time, but at the end of two hours it thinned, then dwarfed into low jungle, and finally vanished altogether, and we had arrived on the soil of Unyamwezi, with a broad plain, swelling, subsiding, and receding in lengthy and grand undulations in our front to one indefinite horizontal line which purpled in the far distance. The view consisted of fields of grain ripening, which followed the contour of the plain, and which rustled merrily before the morning breeze that came laden with the chills of Usagara. At 8 A.M. we had arrived at the frontier village of Unyamwezi, Eastern Tura, which we invaded without any regard to the disposition of the few inhabitants who lived there. Here we found Nondo, a runaway of Speke's, one of those who had sided with Baraka against Bombay, who, desiring to engage himself with me, was engaging enough to furnish honey and sherbet to his former companions, and lastly to the pagazis. It was only a short breathing pause we made here, having another hour's march to reach Central Tura. The road from Eastern Tura led through vast fields of millet, Indian corn, holcus sorghum, maweri, or panicum, or bajri, as called by the Arabs; gardens of sweet potatoes, large tracts of cucumbers, water-melons, mush-melons, and pea-nuts which grew in the deep furrows between the ridges of the holcus. Some broad-leafed plantain plants were also seen in the neighbourhood of the villages, which as we advanced became very numerous. The villages of the Wakimbu are like those of the Wagogo, square, flat-roofed, enclosing an open area, which is sometimes divided into three or four parts by fences or matama stalks. At central Tura, where we encamped, we had evidence enough of the rascality of the Wakimbu of Tura. Hamed, who, despite his efforts to reach Unyanyembe in time to sell his cloths before other Arabs came with cloth supplies, was unable to compel his pagazis to the double march every day, was also encamped at Central Tura, together with the Arab servants who preferred Hamed's imbecile haste to Thani's cautious advance. Our first night in Unyamwezi was very exciting indeed. The Musungu's camp was visited by two crawling thieves, but they were soon made aware by the portentous click of a trigger that the white man's camp was well guarded. Hamed's camp was next visited; but here also the restlessness of the owner frustrated their attempts, for he was pacing backwards and forwards through his camp, with a loaded gun in his hand; and the thieves were obliged to relinquish the chance of stealing any of his bales. From Hamed's they proceeded to Hassan's camp (one of the Arab servants), where they were successful enough to reach and lay hold of a couple of bales; but, unfortunately, they made a noise, which awoke the vigilant and quick-eared slave, who snatched his loaded musket, and in a moment had shot one of them through the heart. Such were our experiences of the Wakimbu of Tura. On the 18th the three caravans, Hamed's, Hassan's, and my own, left Tura by a road which zig-zagged towards all points through the tall matama fields. In an hour's time we had passed Tura Perro, or Western Tura, and had entered the forest again, whence the Wakimbu of Tura obtain their honey, and where they excavate deep traps for the elephants with which the forest is said to abound. An hour's march from Western Tura brought us to a ziwa, or pond. There were two, situated in the midst of a small open mbuga, or plain, which, even at this late season, was yet soft from the water which overflows it during the rainy season. After resting three hours, we started on the terekeza, or afternoon march. It was one and the same forest that we had entered soon after leaving Western Tura, that we travelled through until we reached the Kwala Mtoni, or, as Burton has misnamed it on his map, "Kwale." The water of this mtoni is contained in large ponds, or deep depressions in the wide and crooked gully of Kwala. In these ponds a species of mud-fish, was found, off one of which I made a meal, by no means to be despised by one who had not tasted fish since leaving Bagamoyo. Probably, if I had my choice, being, when occasion demands it, rather fastidious in my tastes, I would not select the mud-fish. From Tura to the Kwala Mtoni is seventeen and a half miles, a distance which, however easy it may be traversed once a fortnight, assumes a prodigious length when one has to travel it almost every other day, at least, so my pagazis, soldiers, and followers found it, and their murmurs were very loud when I ordered the signal to be sounded on the march. Abdul Kader, the tailor who had attached himself to me, as a man ready-handed at all things, from mending a pair of pants, making a delicate entremets, or shooting an elephant, but whom the interior proved to be the weakliest of the weakly, unfit for anything except eating and drinking---almost succumbed on this march. Long ago the little stock of goods which Abdul had brought from Zanzibar folded in a pocket-handkerchief, and with which he was about to buy ivory and slaves, and make his fortune in the famed land of Unyamwezi, had disappeared with the great eminent hopes he had built on them, like those of Alnaschar the unfortunate owner of crockery in the Arabian tale. He came to me as we prepared for the march, with a most dolorous tale about his approaching death, which he felt in his bones, and weary back: his legs would barely hold him up; in short, he had utterly collapsed--would I take mercy on him, and let him depart? The cause of this extraordinary request, so unlike the spirit with which he had left Zanzibar, eager to possess the ivory and slaves of Unyamwezi, was that on the last long march, two of my donkeys being dead, I had ordered that the two saddles which they had carried should be Abdul Kader's load to Unyanyembe. The weight of the saddles was 16 lbs., as the spring balance-scale indicated, yet Abdul Kader became weary of life, as, he counted the long marches that intervened between the mtoni and Unyanyembe. On the ground he fell prone, to kiss my feet, begging me in the name of God to permit him to depart. As I had had some experience of Hindoos, Malabarese, and coolies in Abyssinia, I knew exactly how to deal with a case like this. Unhesitatingly I granted the request as soon as asked, for as much tired as Abdul Kader said he was of life, I was with Abdul Kader's worthlessness. But the Hindi did not want to be left in the jungle, he said, but, after arriving in Unyanyembe. "Oh," said I, "then you must reach Unyanyembe first; in the meanwhile you will carry those saddles there for the food which you must eat." As the march to Rubuga was eighteen and three-quarter miles, the pagazis walked fast and long without resting. Rubuga, in the days of Burton, according to his book, was a prosperous district. Even when we passed, the evidences of wealth and prosperity which it possessed formerly, were plain enough in the wide extent of its grain fields, which stretched to the right and left of the Unyanyembe road for many a mile. But they were only evidences of what once were numerous villages, a well-cultivated and populous district, rich in herds of cattle and stores of grain. All the villages are burnt down, the people have been driven north three or four days from Rubuga, the cattle were taken by force, the grain fields were left standing, to be overgrown with jungle and rank weeds. We passed village after village that had been burnt, and were mere blackened heaps of charred timber and smoked clay; field after field of grain ripe years ago was yet standing in the midst of a crop of gums and thorns, mimosa and kolquall. We arrived at the village, occupied by about sixty Wangwana, who have settled here to make a living by buying and selling ivory. Food is provided for them in the deserted fields of the people of Rubuga. We were very tired and heated from the long march, but the pagazis had all arrived by 3 p.m. At the Wangwana village we met Amer bin Sultan, the very type of an old Arab sheikh, such as we read of in books, with a snowy beard, and a clean reverend face, who was returning to Zanzibar after a ten years' residence in Unyanyembe. He presented me with a goat; and a goatskin full of rice; a most acceptable gift in a place where a goat costs five cloths. After a day's halt at Rubuga, during which I despatched soldiers to notify Sheikh Sayd bin Salim and Sheikh bin Nasib, the two chief dignitaries of Unyanyembe, of my coming, on the 21st of June we resumed the march for Kigwa, distant five hours. The road ran through another forest similar to that which separated Tura from Rubuga, the country rapidly sloping as we proceeded westward. Kigwa we found to have been visited by the same vengeance which rendered Rubuga such a waste. The next day, after a three and a half hours' rapid march, we crossed the mtoni--which was no mtoni--separating Kigwa from Unyanyembe district, and after a short halt to quench our thirst, in three and a half hours more arrived at Shiza. It was a most delightful march, though a long one, for its picturesqueness of scenery which every few minutes was revealed, and the proofs we everywhere saw of the peaceable and industrious disposition of the people. A short half hour from Shiza we beheld the undulating plain wherein the Arabs have chosen to situate the central depot which commands such wide and extensive field of trade. The lowing of cattle and the bleating of the goats and sheep were everywhere heard, giving the country a happy, pastoral aspect. The Sultan of Shiza desired me to celebrate my arrival in Unyanyembe, with a five-gallon jar of pombe, which he brought for that purpose. As the pombe was but stale ale in taste, and milk and water in colour, after drinking a small glassful I passed it to the delighted soldiers and pagazis. At my request the Sultan brought a fine fat bullock, for which he accepted four and a half doti of Merikani. The bullock was immediately slaughtered and served out to the caravan as a farewell feast. No one slept much that night, and long before the dawn the fires were lit, and great steaks were broiling, that their stomachs might rejoice before parting with the Musungu, whose bounty they had so often tasted. Six rounds of powder were served to each soldier and pagazi who owned a gun, to fire away when we should be near the Arab houses. The meanest pagazi had his best cloth about his loins, and some were exceedingly brave in gorgeous Ulyah "Coombeesa Poonga" and crimson "Jawah," the glossy "Rehani," and the neat "Dabwani." The soldiers were mustered in new tarbooshes, and the long white shirts of the Mrima and the Island. For this was the great and happy day which had been on our tongues ever since quitting the coast, for which we had made those noted marches latterly--one hundred and seventy-eight and a half miles in sixteen days, including pauses--something over eleven miles a day. The signal sounded and the caravan was joyfully off with banners flying, and trumpets and horns blaring. A short two and a half hours' march brought us within sight of Kwikuru, which is about two miles south of Tabora, the main Arab town; on the outside of which we saw a long line of men in clean shirts, whereat we opened our charged batteries, and fired a volley of small arms such as Kwikuru seldom heard before. The pagazis closed up and adopted the swagger of veterans: the soldiers blazed away uninterruptedly, while I, seeing that the Arabs were advancing towards me, left the ranks, and held out my hand, which was immediately grasped by Sheikh Sayd bin Salim, and then by about two dozen people, and thus our entrée into Unyanyembe was effected. CHAPTER VIII. -- MY LIFE AND TROUBLES DURING MY RESIDENCE IN UNYAS NYEMBE. I BECOME ENGAGED IN A WAR. I received a noiseless ovation as I walked side by side with the governor, Sayd bin Salim, towards his tembe in Kwikuru, or the capital. The Wanyamwezi pagazis were out by hundreds, the warriors of Mkasiwa, the sultan, hovered around their chief, the children were seen between the legs of their parents, even infants, a few months old, slung over their mothers' backs, all paid the tribute due to my colour, with one grand concentrated stare. The only persons who talked with me were the Arabs, and aged Mkasiwa, ruler of Unyanyembe. Sayd bin Salim's house was at the north-western corner of the inclosure, a stockaded boma of Kwikuru. We had tea made in a silver tea-pot, and a bountiful supply of "dampers" were smoking under a silver cover; and to this repast I was invited. When a man has walked eight miles or so without any breakfast, and a hot tropical sun has been shining on him for three or four hours, he is apt to do justice to a meal, especially if his appetite is healthy. I think I astonished the governor by the dexterous way in which I managed to consume eleven cups of his aromatic concoction of an Assam herb, and the easy effortless style with which I demolished his high tower of "slap jacks," that but a minute or so smoked hotly under their silver cover. For the meal, I thanked the Sheikh, as only an earnest and sincerely hungry man, now satisfied, could thank him. Even if I had not spoken, my gratified looks had well informed him, under what obligations I had been laid to him. Out came my pipe and tobacco-pouch. "My friendly Sheikh, wilt thou smoke?" "No, thanks! Arabs never smoke." "Oh, if you don't, perhaps you would not object to me smoking, in order to assist digestion?" "Ngema--good--go on, master." Then began the questions, the gossipy, curious, serious, light questions: "How came the master? "By the Mpwapwa road." "It is good. Was the Makata bad?" "Very bad." "What news from Zanzibar?" "Good; Syed Toorkee has possession of Muscat, and Azim bin Ghis was slain in the streets." "Is this true, Wallahi?" (by God.) "It is true." "Heh-heh-h! This is news!"--stroking his beard. "Have you heard, master, of Suleiman bin Ali?" "Yes, the Bombay governor sent him to Zanzibar, in a man-of-war, and Suleiman bin Ali now lies in the gurayza (fort)." "Heh, that is very good." "Did you have to pay much tribute to the Wagogo?" "Eight times; Hamed Kimiani wished me to go by Kiwyeh, but I declined, and struck through the forest to Munieka. Hamed and Thani thought it better to follow me, than brave Kiwyeh by themselves." "Where is that Hajji Abdullah (Captain Burton) that came here, and Spiki?" (Speke.) "Hajji Abdullah! What Hajji Abdullah? Ah! Sheikh Burton we call him. Oh, he is a great man now; a balyuz (a consul) at El Scham" (Damascus.) "Heh-heh; balyuz! Heh, at El Scham! Is not that near Betlem el Kuds?" (Jerusalem.) "Yes, about four days. Spiki is dead. He shot himself by accident." "Ah, ah, Wallah (by God), but this is bad news. Spiki dead? Mash-Allah! Ough, he was a good man--a good man! Dead!" "But where is this Kazeh, Sheikh Sayd?" "Kazeh? Kazeh? I never heard the name before." "But you were with Burton, and Speke, at Kazeh; you lived there several months, when you were all stopping in Unyanyembe; it must be close here; somewhere. Where did Hajji Abdullah and Spiki live when they were in Unyanyembe? Was it not in Musa Mzuri's house?" "That was in Tabora." "Well, then, where is Kazeh? I have never seen the man yet who could tell me where that place is, and yet the three white men have that word down, as the name of the place they lived at when you were with them. You must know where it is." "Wallahi, bana, I never heard the name; but stop, Kazeh, in Kinyamwezi, means 'kingdom.' Perhaps they gave that name to the place they stopped at. But then, I used to call the first house Sny bin Amer's house, and Speke lived at Musa Mzuri's house, but both houses, as well as all the rest, are in Tabora." "Thank you, sheikh. I should like to go and look after my people; they must all be wanting food." "I shall go with you to show you your house. The tembe is in Kwihara, only an hour's walk from Tabora." On leaving Kwikuru we crossed a low ridge, and soon saw Kwihara lying between two low ranges of hills, the northernmost of which was terminated westward by the round fortress-like hill of Zimbili. There was a cold glare of intense sunshine over the valley, probably the effect of an universal bleakness or an autumnal ripeness of the grass, unrelieved by any depth of colour to vary the universal sameness. The hills were bleached, or seemed to be, under that dazzling sunshine, and clearest atmosphere. The corn had long been cut, and there lay the stubble, and fields,--a browny-white expanse; the houses were of mud, and their fiat roofs were of mud, and the mud was of a browny-whiteness; the huts were thatched, and the stockades around them of barked timber, and these were of a browny whiteness. The cold, fierce, sickly wind from the mountains of Usagara sent a deadly chill to our very marrows, yet the intense sunshiny glare never changed, a black cow or two, or a tall tree here and there, caught the eye for a moment, but they never made one forget that the first impression of Kwihara was as of a picture without colour, or of food without taste; and if one looked up, there was a sky of a pale blue, spotless, and of an awful serenity. As I approached the tembe of Sayd bin Salim, Sheikh bin Nasib and other great Arabs joined us. Before the great door of the tembe the men had stacked the bales, and piled the boxes, and were using their tongues at a furious rate, relating to the chiefs and soldiers of the first, second, and fourth caravans the many events which had befallen them, and which seemed to them the only things worth relating. Outside of their own limited circles they evidently cared for nothing. Then the several chiefs of the other caravans had in turn to relate their experiences of the road; and the noise of tongues was loud and furious. But as we approached, all this loud-sounding gabble ceased, and my caravan chiefs and guides rushed to me to hail me as "master," and to salute me as their friend. One fellow, faithful Baruti, threw himself at my feet, the others fired their guns and acted like madmen suddenly become frenzied, and a general cry of "welcome" was heard on all sides. "Walk in, master, this is your house, now; here are your men's quarters; here you will receive the great Arabs, here is the cook-house; here is the store-house; here is the prison for the refractory; here are your white man's apartments; and these are your own: see, here is the bedroom, here is the gun-room, bath-room, &c.;" so Sheikh Sayd talked, as he showed me the several places. On my honour, it was a most comfortable place, this, in Central Africa. One could almost wax poetic, but we will keep such ambitious ideas for a future day. Just now, however, we must have the goods stored, and the little army of carriers paid off and disbanded. Bombay was ordered to unlock the strong store-room, to pile the bales in regular tiers, the beads in rows one above another, and the wire in a separate place. The boats, canvas, &c., were to be placed high above reach of white ants, and the boxes of ammunition and powder kegs were to be stored in the gun-room, out of reach of danger. Then a bale of cloth was opened, and each carrier was rewarded according to his merits, that each of them might proceed home to his friends and neighbours, and tell them how much better the white man behaved than the Arabs. The reports of the leaders of the first, second, and fourth caravans were then received, their separate stores inspected, and the details and events of their marches heard. The first caravan had been engaged in a war at Kirurumo, and had come out of the fight successful, and had reached Unyanyembe without loss of anything. The second had shot a thief in the forest between Pembera Pereh and Kididimo; the fourth had lost a bale in the jungle of Marenga Mkali, and the porter who carried it had received a "very sore head" from a knob stick wielded by one of the thieves, who prowl about the jungle near the frontier of Ugogo. I was delighted to find that their misfortunes were no more, and each leader was then and there rewarded with one handsome cloth, and five doti of Merikani. Just as I began to feel hungry again, came several slaves in succession, bearing trays full of good things from the Arabs; first an enormous dish of rice, with a bowlful of curried chicken, another with a dozen huge wheaten cakes, another with a plateful of smoking hot crullers, another with papaws, another with pomegranates and lemons; after these came men driving five fat hump backed oxen, eight sheep, and ten goats, and another man with a dozen chickens, and a dozen fresh eggs. This was real, practical, noble courtesy, munificent hospitality, which quite took my gratitude by storm. My people, now reduced to twenty-five, were as delighted at the prodigal plenitude visible on my tables and in my yard, as I was myself. And as I saw their eyes light up at the unctuous anticipations presented to them by their riotous fancies, I ordered a bullock to be slaughtered and distributed. The second day of the arrival of the Expedition in the country which I now looked upon as classic ground, since Capts. Burton, Speke, and Grant years ago had visited it, and described it, came the Arab magnates from Tabora to congratulate me. Tabora* is the principal Arab settlement in Central Africa. It contains over a thousand huts and tembes, and one may safely estimate the population, Arabs, Wangwana, and natives, at five thousand people. Between Tabora and the next settlement, Kwihara, rise two rugged hill ridges, separated from each other by a low saddle, over the top of which Tabora is always visible from Kwihara. ________________ * There is no such recognised place as Kazeh. ________________ They were a fine, handsome body of men, these Arabs. They mostly hailed from Oman: others were Wasawahili; and each of my visitors had quite a retinue with him. At Tabora they live quite luxuriously. The plain on which the settlement is situated is exceedingly fertile, though naked of trees; the rich pasturage it furnishes permits them to keep large herds of cattle and goats, from which they have an ample supply of milk, cream, butter, and ghee. Rice is grown everywhere; sweet potatoes, yams, muhogo, holcus sorghum, maize, or Indian corn, sesame, millet, field-peas, or vetches, called choroko, are cheap, and always procurable. Around their tembes the Arabs cultivate a little wheat for their own purposes, and have planted orange, lemon, papaw, and mangoes, which thrive here fairly well. Onions and garlic, chilies, cucumbers, tomatoes, and brinjalls, may be procured by the white visitor from the more important Arabs, who are undoubted epicureans in their way. Their slaves convey to them from the coast, once a year at least, their stores of tea, coffee sugar, spices, jellies, curries, wine, brandy, biscuits, sardines, salmon, and such fine cloths and articles as they require for their own personal use. Almost every Arab of any eminence is able to show a wealth of Persian carpets, and most luxurious bedding, complete tea and coffee-services, and magnificently carved dishes of tinned copper and brass lavers. Several of them sport gold watches and chains, mostly all a watch and chain of some kind. And, as in Persia, Afghanistan, and Turkey, the harems form an essential feature of every Arab's household; the sensualism of the Mohammedans is as prominent here as in the Orient. The Arabs who now stood before the front door of my tembe were the donors of the good things received the day before. As in duty bound, of course, I greeted Sheikh Sayd first, then Sheikh bin Nasib, his Highness of Zanzibar's consul at Karagwa, then I greeted the noblest Trojan amongst the Arab population, noblest in bearing, noblest in courage and manly worth--Sheikh Khamis bin Abdullah; then young Amram bin Mussoud, who is now making war on the king of Urori and his fractious people; then handsome, courageous Soud, the son of Sayd bin Majid; then dandified Thani bin Abdullah; then Mussoud bin Abdullah and his cousin Abdullah bin Mussoud, who own the houses where formerly lived Burton and Speke; then old Suliman Dowa, Sayd bin Sayf, and the old Hetman of Tabora--Sheikh Sultan bin Ali. As the visit of these magnates, under whose loving protection white travellers must needs submit themselves, was only a formal one, such as Arab etiquette, ever of the stateliest and truest, impelled them to, it is unnecessary to relate the discourse on my health, and their wealth, my thanks, and their professions of loyalty, and attachment to me. After having expended our mutual stock of congratulations and nonsense, they departed, having stated their wish that I should visit them at Tabora and partake of a feast which they were about to prepare for me. Three days afterwards I sallied out of my tembe, escorted by eighteen bravely dressed men of my escort, to pay Tabora a visit. On surmounting the saddle over which the road from the valley of Kwihara leads to Tabora, the plain on which the Arab settlement is situated lay before us, one expanse of dun pasture land, stretching from the base of the hill on our left as far as the banks of the northern Gombe, which a few miles beyond Tabora heave into purple-coloured hills and blue cones. Within three-quarters of an hour we were seated on the mud veranda of the tembe of Sultan bin Ali, who, because of his age, his wealth, and position--being a colonel in Seyd Burghash's unlovely army--is looked upon by his countrymen, high and low, as referee and counsellor. His boma or enclosure contains quite a village of hive-shaped huts and square tembes. From here, after being presented with a cup of Mocha coffee, and some sherbet, we directed our steps towards Khamis bin Abdullah's house, who had, in anticipation of my coming, prepared a feast to which he had invited his friends and neighbours. The group of stately Arabs in their long white dresses, and jaunty caps, also of a snowy white, who stood ready to welcome me to Tabora, produced quite an effect on my mind. I was in time for a council of war they were holding--and I was requested to attend. Khamis bin Abdullah, a bold and brave man, ever ready to stand up for the privileges of the Arabs, and their rights to pass through any countries for legitimate trade, is the man who, in Speke's 'Journal of the Discovery of the Source of the Nile,' is reported to have shot Maula, an old chief who sided with Manwa Sera during the wars of 1860; and who subsequently, after chasing his relentless enemy for five years through Ugogo and Unyamwezi as far as Ukonongo, had the satisfaction of beheading him, was now urging the Arabs to assert their rights against a chief called Mirambo of Uyoweh, in a crisis which was advancing. This Mirambo of Uyoweh, it seems, had for the last few years been in a state of chronic discontent with the policies of the neighbouring chiefs. Formerly a pagazi for an Arab, he had now assumed regal power, with the usual knack of unconscionable rascals who care not by what means they step into power. When the chief of Uyoweh died, Mirambo, who was head of a gang of robbers infesting the forests of Wilyankuru, suddenly entered Uyoweh, and constituted himself lord paramount by force. Some feats of enterprise, which he performed to the enrichment of all those who recognised his authority, established him firmly in his position. This was but a beginning; he carried war through Ugara to Ukonongo, through Usagozi to the borders of Uvinza, and after destroying the populations over three degrees of latitude, he conceived a grievance against Mkasiwa, and against the Arabs, because they would not sustain him in his ambitious projects against their ally and friend, with whom they were living in peace. The first outrage which this audacious man committed against the Arabs was the halting of an Ujiji-bound caravan, and the demand for five kegs of gunpowder, five guns, and five bales of cloth. This extraordinary demand, after expending more than a day in fierce controversy, was paid; but the Arabs, if they were surprised at the exorbitant black-mail demanded of them, were more than ever surprised when they were told to return the way they came; and that no Arab caravan should pass through his country to Ujiji except over his dead body. On the return of the unfortunate Arabs to Unyanyembe, they reported the facts to Sheikh Sayd bin Salim, the governor of the Arab colony. This old man, being averse to war, of course tried every means to induce Mirambo as of old to be satisfied with presents; but Mirambo this time was obdurate, and sternly determined on war unless the Arabs aided him in the warfare he was about to wage against old Mkasiwa, sultan of the Wanyamwezi of Unyanyembe. "This is the status of affairs," said Khamis bin Abdullah. "Mirambo says that for years he has been engaged in war against the neighbouring Washensi and has come out of it victorious; he says this is a great year with him; that he is going to fight the Arabs, and the Wanyamwezi of Unyanyembe, and that he shall not stop until every Arab is driven from Unyanyembe, and he rules over this country in place of Mkasiwa. Children of Oman, shall it be so? Speak, Salim, son of Sayf, shall we go to meet this Mshensi (pagan) or shall we return to our island?" A murmur of approbation followed the speech of Khamis bin Abdullah, the majority of those present being young men eager to punish the audacious Mirambo. Salim, the son of Sayf, an old patriarch, slow of speech, tried to appease the passions of the young men, scions of the aristocracy of Muscat and Muttrah, and Bedaweens of the Desert, but Khamis's bold words had made too deep an impression on their minds. Soud, the handsome Arab whom I have noticed already as the son of Sayd the son of Majid, spoke: "My father used to tell me that he remembered the days when the Arabs could go through the country from Bagamoyo to Ujiji, and from Kilwa to Lunda, and from Usenga to Uganda armed with canes. Those days are gone by. We have stood the insolence of the Wagogo long enough. Swaruru of Usui just takes from us whatever he wants; and now, here is Mirambo, who says, after taking more than five bales of cloth as tribute from one man, that no Arab caravan shall go to Ujiji, but over his body. Are we prepared to give up the ivory of Ujiji, of Urundi, of Karagwah, of Uganda, because of this one man? I say war--war until we have got his beard under our feet--war until the whole of Uyoweh and Wilyankuru is destroyed--war until we can again travel through any part of the country with only our walking canes in our hands!" The universal assent that followed Send's speech proved beyond a doubt that we were about to have a war. I thought of Livingstone. What if he were marching to Unyanyembe directly into the war country? Having found from the Arabs that they intended to finish the war quickly--at most within fifteen days, as Uyoweh was only four marches distant--I volunteered to accompany them, take my loaded caravan with me as far as Mfuto, and there leave it in charge of a few guards, and with the rest march on with the Arab army. And my hope was, that it might be possible, after the defeat of Mirambo, and his forest banditti--the Ruga-Ruga--to take my Expedition direct to Ujiji by the road now closed. The Arabs were sanguine of victory, and I partook of their enthusiasm. The council of war broke up. A great dishful of rice and curry, in which almonds, citron, raisins, and currants were plentifully mixed, was brought in, and it was wonderful how soon we forgot our warlike fervor after our attention had been drawn to this royal dish. I, of course, not being a Mohammedan, had a dish of my own, of a similar composition, strengthened by platters containing roast chicken, and kabobs, crullers, cakes, sweetbread, fruit, glasses of sherbet and lemonade, dishes of gum-drops and Muscat sweetmeats, dry raisins, prunes, and nuts. Certainly Khamis bin Abdullah proved to me that if he had a warlike soul in him, he could also attend to the cultivated tastes acquired under the shade of the mangoes on his father's estates in Zanzibar--the island. After gorging ourselves on these uncommon dainties some of the chief Arabs escorted me to other tembes of Tabora. When we went to visit Mussoud bin Abdullah, he showed me the very ground where Burton and Speke's house stood--now pulled down and replaced by his office--Sny bin Amer's house was also torn down, and the fashionable tembe of Unyanyembe, now in vogue, built over it,--finely-carved rafters--huge carved doors, brass knockers, and lofty airy rooms--a house built for defence and comfort. The finest house in Unyanyembe belongs to Amram bin Mussoud, who paid sixty frasilah of ivory--over $3,000--for it. Very fair houses can be purchased for from twenty to thirty frasilah of ivory. Amram's house is called the "Two Seas"--"Baherein." It is one hundred feet in length, and twenty feet high, with walls four feet thick, neatly plastered over with mud mortar. The great door is a marvel of carving-work for Unyanyembe artisans. Each rafter within is also carved with fine designs. Before the front of the house is a young plantation of pomegranate trees, which flourish here as if they were indigenous to the soil. A shadoof, such as may be seen on the Nile, serves to draw water to irrigate the gardens. Towards evening we walked back to our own finely situated tembe in Kwihara, well satisfied with what we had seen at Tabora. My men drove a couple of oxen, and carried three sacks of native rice--a most superior kind--the day's presents of hospitality from Khamis bin Abdullah. In Unyanyembe I found the Livingstone caravan, which started off in a fright from Bagamoyo upon the rumour that the English Consul was coming. As all the caravans were now halted at Unyanyembe because of the now approaching war, I suggested to Sayd bin Salim, that it were better that the men of the Livingstone caravan should live with mine in my tembe, that I might watch over the white man's goods. Sayd bin Salim agreed with me, and the men and goods were at once brought to my tembe. One day Asmani, who was now chief of Livingstone's caravan, the other having died of small-pox, two or three days before, brought out a tent to the veranda where, I was sitting writing, and shewed me a packet of letters, which to my surprise was marked: "To Dr. Livingstone, "Ujiji, "November 1st, 1870. "Registered letters." From November 1st, 1870, to February 10, 1871, just one hundred days, at Bagamoyo! A miserable small caravan of thirty-three men halting one hundred days at Bagamoyo, only twenty-five miles by water from Zanzibar! Poor Livingstone! Who knows but he maybe suffering for want of these very supplies that were detained so long near the sea. The caravan arrived in Unyanyembe some time about the middle of May. About the latter part of May the first disturbances took place. Had this caravan arrived here in the middle of March, or even the middle of April, they might have travelled on to Ujiji without trouble. On the 7th of July, about 2 P.M., I was sitting on the burzani as usual; I felt listless and languid, and a drowsiness came over me; I did not fall asleep, but the power of my limbs seemed to fail me. Yet the brain was busy; all my life seemed passing in review before me; when these retrospective scenes became serious, I looked serious; when they were sorrowful, I wept hysterically; when they were joyous, I laughed loudly. Reminiscences of yet a young life's battles and hard struggles came surging into the mind in quick succession: events of boyhood, of youth, and manhood; perils, travels, scenes, joys, and sorrows; loves and hates; friendships and indifferences. My mind followed the various and rapid transition of my life's passages; it drew the lengthy, erratic, sinuous lines of travel my footsteps had passed over. If I had drawn them on the sandy floor, what enigmatical problems they had been to those around me, and what plain, readable, intelligent histories they had been to me! The loveliest feature of all to me was the form of a noble, and true man, who called me son. Of my life in the great pine forests of Arkansas, and in Missouri, I retained the most vivid impressions. The dreaming days I passed under the sighing pines on the Ouachita's shores; the new clearing, the block-house, our faithful black servant, the forest deer, and the exuberant life I led, were all well remembered. And I remembered how one day, after we had come to live near the Mississipi, I floated down, down, hundreds of miles, with a wild fraternity of knurly giants, the boatmen of the Mississipi, and how a dear old man welcomed me back, as if from the grave. I remembered also my travels on foot through sunny Spain, and France, with numberless adventures in Asia Minor, among Kurdish nomads. I remembered the battle-fields of America and the stormy scenes of rampant war. I remembered gold mines, and broad prairies, Indian councils, and much experience in the new western lands. I remembered the shock it gave me to hear after my return from a barbarous country of the calamity that had overtaken the fond man whom I called father, and the hot fitful life that followed it. Stop! ************ Dear me; is it the 21st of July? Yes, Shaw informed me that it was the 21st of July after I recovered from my terrible attack of fever; the true date was the 14th of July, but I was not aware that I had jumped a week, until I met Dr. Livingstone. We two together examined the Nautical Almanack, which I brought with me. We found that the Doctor was three weeks out of his reckoning, and to my great surprise I was also one week out, or one week ahead of the actual date. The mistake was made by my being informed that I had been two weeks sick, and as the day I recovered my senses was Friday, and Shaw and the people were morally sure that I was in bed two weeks, I dated it on my Diary the 21st of July. However, on the tenth day after the first of my illness, I was in excellent trim again, only, however, to see and attend to Shaw, who was in turn taken sick. By the 22nd July Shaw was recovered, then Selim was prostrated, and groaned in his delirium for four days, but by the 28th we were all recovered, and were beginning to brighten up at the prospect of a diversion in the shape of a march upon Mirambo's stronghold. The morning of the 29th I had fifty men loaded with bales, beads, and wire, for Ujiji. When they were mustered for the march outside the tembe, the only man absent was Bombay. While men were sent to search for him, others departed to get one more look, and one more embrace with their black Delilahs. Bombay was found some time about 2 P.M., his face faithfully depicting the contending passions under which he was labouring--sorrow at parting from the fleshpots of Unyanyembe--regret at parting from his Dulcinea of Tabora--to be, bereft of all enjoyment now, nothing but marches--hard, long marches--to go to the war--to be killed, perhaps, Oh! Inspired by such feelings, no wonder Bombay was inclined to be pugnacious when I ordered him to his place, and I was in a shocking bad temper for having been kept waiting from 8 A.M. to 2 P.M. for him. There was simply a word and a savage look, and my cane was flying around Bombay's shoulders, as if he were to be annihilated. I fancy that the eager fury of my onslaught broke his stubbornness more than anything else; for before I had struck him a dozen times he was crying for "pardon." At that word I ceased belaboring him, for this was the first time he had ever uttered that word. Bombay was conquered at last. "March!" and the guide led off, followed in solemn order by forty-nine of his fellows, every man carrying a heavy load of African moneys, besides his gun, hatchet, and stock of ammunition, and his ugali-pot. We presented quite an imposing sight while thus marching on in silence and order, with our flags flying, and the red blanket robes of the men streaming behind them as the furious north-easter blew right on our flank. The men seemed to feel they were worth seeing, for I noticed that several assumed a more martial tread as they felt their royal Joho cloth tugging at their necks, as it was swept streaming behind by the wind. Maganga, a tall Mnyamwezi, stalked along like a very Goliah about to give battle alone, to Mirambo and his thousand warriors. Frisky Khamisi paced on under his load, imitating a lion and there was the rude jester--the incorrigible Ulimengo--with a stealthy pace like a cat. But their silence could not last long. Their vanity was so much gratified, the red cloaks danced so incessantly before their eyes, that it would have been a wonder if they could have maintained such serious gravity or discontent one half hour longer. Ulimengo was the first who broke it. He had constituted himself the kirangozi or guide, and was the standard-bearer, bearing the American flag, which the men thought would certainly strike terror into the hearts of the enemy. Growing confident first, then valorous, then exultant, he suddenly faced the army he was leading, and shouted "Hoy! Hoy! Chorus.--Hoy! Hoy! Hoy! Hoy! Chorus.--Hoy! Hoy! Hoy! Hoy! Chorus.--Hoy! Hoy! Where are ye going? Chorus.--Going to war. Against whom? Chorus.--Against Mirambo. Who is your master? Chorus.--The White Man. Ough! Ough! Chorus.--Ough! Ough! Hyah! Hyah! Chorus.--Hyah. Hyah!" This was the ridiculous song they kept up all day without intermission. We camped the first day at Bomboma's village, situated a mile to the south-west of the natural hill fortress of Zimbili. Bombay was quite recovered from his thrashing, and had banished the sullen thoughts that had aroused my ire, and the men having behaved themselves so well, a five-gallon pot of pombe was brought to further nourish the valour, which they one and all thought they possessed. The second day we arrived at Masangi. I was visited soon afterwards by Soud, the son of Sayd bin Majid, who told me the Arabs were waiting for me; that they would not march from Mfuto until I had arrived. Eastern Mfuto, after a six hours' march, was reached on the third day from Unyanyembe. Shaw gave in, laid down in the road, and declared he was dying. This news was brought to me about 4 P.M. by one of the last stragglers. I was bound to despatch men to carry him to me, into my camp, though every man was well tired after the long march. A reward stimulated half-a-dozen to venture into the forest just at dusk to find Shaw, who was supposed to be at least three hours away from camp. About two o'clock in the morning my men returned, having carried Shaw on their backs the entire distance. I was roused up, and had him conveyed to my tent. I examined him, and I assured myself he was not suffering from fever of any kind; and in reply to my inquiries as to how he felt, he said he could neither walk nor ride, that he felt such extreme weakness and lassitude that he was incapable of moving further. After administering a glass of port wine to him in a bowlful of sago gruel, we both fell asleep. We arrived early the following morning at Mfuto, the rendezvous of the Arab army. A halt was ordered the next day, in order to make ourselves strong by eating the beeves, which we freely slaughtered. The personnel of our army was as follows: Sheikh Sayd bin Salim...... 25 half caste " Khamis bin Abdullah.... 250 slaves " Thani bin Abdullah.... 80 " " Mussoud bin Abdullah.... 75 " " Abdullah bin Mussoud.... 80 " " Ali bin Sayd bin Nasib... 250 " " Nasir bin Mussoud..... 50 " " Hamed Kimiami...... 70 " " Hamdam........ 30 " " Sayd bin Habib...... 50 " " Salim bin Sayf..... 100 " " Sunguru........ 25 " " Sarboko........ 25 " " Soud bin Sayd bin Majid... 50 " " Mohammed bin Mussoud.... 30 " " Sayd bin Hamed...... 90 " " The 'Herald' Expedition... 50 soldiers " Mkasiwa's Wanyamwezi... 800 " " Half-castes and Wangwana.. 125 " " Independent chiefs and their followers....... 300 " These made a total of 2,255, according to numbers given me by Thani bin Abdullah, and corroborated by a Baluch in the pay of Sheikh bin Nasib. Of these men 1,500 were armed with guns--flint-lock muskets, German and French double-barrels, some English Enfields, and American Springfields--besides these muskets, they were mostly armed with spears and long knives for the purpose of decapitating, and inflicting vengeful gashes in the dead bodies. Powder and ball were plentiful: some men were served a hundred rounds each, my people received each man sixty rounds. As we filed out of the stronghold of Mfuto, with waving banners denoting the various commanders, with booming horns, and the roar of fifty bass drums, called gomas--with blessings showered on us by the mollahs, and happiest predications from the soothsayers, astrologers, and the diviners of the Koran--who could have foretold that this grand force, before a week passed over its head, would be hurrying into that same stronghold of Mfuto, with each man's heart in his mouth from fear? The date of our leaving Mfuto for battle with Mirambo was the 3rd of August. All my goods were stored in Mfuto, ready for the march to Ujiji, should we be victorious over the African chief, but at least for safety, whatever befel us. Long before we reached Umanda, I was in my hammock in the paroxysms of a fierce attack of intermittent fever, which did not leave me until late that night. At Umanda, six hours from Mfuto, our warriors bedaubed themselves with the medicine which the wise men had manufactured for them--a compound of matama flour mixed with the juices of a herb whose virtues were only known to the Waganga of the Wanyamwezi. At 6 A.M. on the 4th of August we were once more prepared for the road, but before we were marched out of the village, the "manneno," or speech, was delivered by the orator of the Wanyamwezi: "Words! words! words! Listen, sons of Mkasiwa, children of Unyamwezi! the journey is before you, the thieves of the forest are waiting; yes, they are thieves, they cut up your caravans, they steal your ivory, they murder your women. Behold, the Arabs are with you, El Wali of the Arab sultan, and the white man are with you. Go, the son of Mkasiwa is with you; fight; kill, take slaves, take cloth, take cattle, kill, eat, and fill yourselves! Go!" A loud, wild shout followed this bold harangue, the gates of the village were thrown open, and blue, red, and white-robed soldiers were bounding upward like so many gymnasts; firing their guns incessantly, in order to encourage themselves with noise, or to strike terror into the hearts of those who awaited us within the strong enclosure of Zimbizo, Sultan Kolongo's place. As Zimbizo was distant only five hours from Umanda, at 11 A.M. we came in view of it. We halted on the verge of the cultivated area around it and its neighbours within the shadow of the forest. Strict orders had been given by the several chiefs to their respective commands not to fire, until they were within shooting distance of the boma. Khamis bin Abdullah crept through the forest to the west of the village. The Wanyamwezi took their position before the main gateway, aided by the forces of Soud the son of Sayd on the right, and the son of Habib on the left, Abdullah, Mussoud, myself, and others made ready to attack the eastern gates, which arrangement effectually shut them in, with the exception of the northern side. Suddenly, a volley opened on us as we emerged from the forest along the Unyanyembe road, in the direction they had been anticipating the sight of an enemy, and immediately the attacking forces began their firing in most splendid style. There were some ludicrous scenes of men pretending to fire, then jumping off to one side, then forward, then backward, with the agility of hopping frogs, but the battle was none the less in earnest. The breech-loaders of my men swallowed my metallic cartridges much faster than I liked to see; but happily there was a lull in the firing, and we were rushing into the village from the west, the south, the north, through the gates and over the tall palings that surrounded the village, like so many Merry Andrews; and the poor villagers were flying from the enclosure towards the mountains, through the northern gate, pursued by the fleetest runners of our force, and pelted in the back by bullets from breech-loaders and shot-guns. The village was strongly defended, and not more than twenty dead bodies were found in it, the strong thick wooden paling having afforded excellent protection against our bullets. From Zimbizo, after having left a sufficient force within, we sallied out, and in an hour had cleared the neighbourhood of the enemy, having captured two other villages, which we committed to the flames, after gutting them of all valuables. A few tusks of ivory, and about fifty slaves, besides an abundance of grain, composed the "loot," which fell to the lot of the Arabs. On the 5th, a detachment of Arabs and slaves, seven hundred strong, scoured the surrounding country, and carried fire and devastation up to the boma of Wilyankuru. On the 6th, Soud bin Sayd and about twenty other young Arabs led a force of five hundred men against Wilyankuru itself, where it was supposed Mirambo was living. Another party went out towards the low wooded hills, a short distance north of Zimbizo, near which place they surprised a youthful forest thief asleep, whose head they stretched backwards, and cut it off as though he were a goat or a sheep. Another party sallied out southward, and defeated a party of Mirambo's "bush-whackers," news of which came to our ears at noon. In the morning I had gone to Sayd bin Salim's tembe, to represent to him how necessary it was to burn the long grass in the forest of Zimbizo, lest it might hide any of the enemy; but soon afterwards I had been struck down with another attack of intermittent fever, and was obliged to turn in and cover myself with blankets to produce perspiration; but not, however, till I had ordered Shaw and Bombay not to permit any of my men to leave the camp. But I was told soon afterwards by Selim that more than one half had gone to the attack on Wilyankuru with Soud bin Sayd. About 6 P.M. the entire camp of Zimbizo was electrified with the news that all the Arabs who had accompanied Soud bin Sayd had been killed; and that more than one-half of his party had been slain. Some of my own men returned, and from them I learned that Uledi, Grant's former valet, Mabruki Khatalabu (Killer of his father), Mabruki (the Little), Baruti of Useguhha, and Ferahan had been killed. I learned also that they had succeeded in capturing Wilyankuru in a very short time, that Mirambo and his son were there, that as they succeeded in effecting an entrance, Mirambo had collected his men, and after leaving the village, had formed an ambush in the grass, on each side of the road, between Wilyankuru and Zimbizo, and that as the attacking party were returning home laden with over a hundred tusks of ivory, and sixty bales of cloth, and two or three hundred slaves, Mirambo's men suddenly rose up on each side of them, and stabbed them with their spears. The brave Soud had fired his double-barrelled gun and shot two men, and was in the act of loading again when a spear was launched, which penetrated through and through him: all the other Arabs shared the same fate. This sudden attack from an enemy they believed to be conquered so demoralized the party that, dropping their spoil, each man took to his heels, and after making a wide detour through the woods, returned to Zimbizo to repeat the dolorous tale. The effect of this defeat is indescribable. It was impossible to sleep, from the shrieks of the women whose husbands had fallen. All night they howled their lamentations, and sometimes might be heard the groans of the wounded who had contrived to crawl through the grass unperceived by the enemy. Fugitives were continually coming in throughout the night, but none of my men who were reported to be dead, were ever heard of again. The 7th was a day of distrust, sorrow, and retreat; the Arabs accused one another for urging war without expending all peaceful means first. There were stormy councils of war held, wherein were some who proposed to return at once to Unyanyembe, and keep within their own houses; and Khamis bin Abdullah raved, like an insulted monarch, against the abject cowardice of his compatriots. These stormy meetings and propositions to retreat were soon known throughout the camp, and assisted more than anything else to demoralize completely the combined forces of Wanyamwezi and slaves. I sent Bombay to Sayd bin Salim to advise him not to think of retreat, as it would only be inviting Mirambo to carry the war to Unyanyembe. After, despatching Bombay with this message, I fell asleep, but about 1.30 P.M. I was awakened by Selim saying, "Master, get up, they are all running away, and Khamis bin Abdullah is himself going." With the aid of Selim I dressed myself, and staggered towards the door. My first view was of Thani bin Abdullah being dragged away, who, when he caught sight of me, shouted out "Bana--quick--Mirambo is coming." He was then turning to run, and putting on his jacket, with his eyes almost starting out of their sockets with terror. Khamis bin Abdullah was also about departing, he being the last Arab to leave. Two of my men were following him; these Selim was ordered to force back with a revolver. Shaw was saddling his donkey with my own saddle, preparatory to giving me the slip, and leaving me in the lurch to the tender mercies of Mirambo. There were only Bombay, Mabruki Speke, Chanda who was coolly eating his dinner, Mabruk Unyauyembe, Mtamani, Juma, and Sarmean---only seven out of fifty. All the others had deserted, and were by this time far away, except Uledi (Manwa Sera) and Zaidi, whom Selim brought back at the point of a loaded revolver. Selim was then told to saddle my donkey, and Bombay to assist Shaw to saddle his own. In a few moments we were on the road, the men ever looking back for the coming enemy; they belabored the donkeys to some purpose, for they went at a hard trot, which caused me intense pain. I would gladly have lain down to die, but life was sweet, and I had not yet given up all hope of being able to preserve it to the full and final accomplishment of my mission. My mind was actively at work planning and contriving during the long lonely hours of night, which we employed to reach Mfuto, whither I found the Arabs had retreated. In the night Shaw tumbled off his donkey, and would not rise, though implored to do so. As I did not despair myself, so I did not intend that Shaw should despair. He was lifted on his animal, and a man was placed on each side of him to assist him; thus we rode through the darkness. At midnight we reached Mfuto safely, and were at once admitted into the village, from which we had issued so valiantly, but to which we were now returned so ignominiously. I found all my men had arrived here before dark. Ulimengo, the bold guide who had exulted in his weapons and in our numbers, and was so sanguine of victory, had performed the eleven hours' march in six hours; sturdy Chowpereh, whom I regarded as the faithfullest of my people, had arrived only half an hour later than Ulimengo; and frisky Khamisi, the dandy--the orator--the rampant demagogue--yes--he had come third; and Speke's "Faithfuls" had proved as cowardly as any poor "nigger" of them all. Only Selim was faithful. I asked Selim, "Why did you not also run away, and leave your master to die?" "Oh, sir," said the Arab boy, naively, "I was afraid you would whip me." CHAPTER IX. -- MY LIFE AND TROUBLES IN UNYANYEMBE-(continued). It never occurred to the Arab magnates that I had cause of complaint against them, or that I had a right to feel aggrieved at their conduct, for the base desertion of an ally, who had, as a duty to friendship, taken up arms for their sake. Their "salaams" the next morning after the retreat, were given as if nothing had transpired to mar the good feeling that had existed between us. They were hardly seated, however, before I began to inform them that as the war was only between them and Mirambo, and that as I was afraid, if they were accustomed to run away after every little check, that the war might last a much longer time than I could afford to lose; and that as they had deserted their wounded on the field, and left their sick friends to take care of themselves, they must not consider me in the light of an ally any more. "I am satisfied," said I, "having seen your mode of fighting, that the war will not be ended in so short a time as you think it will. It took you five years, I hear, to conquer and kill Manwa Sera, you will certainly not conquer Mirambo in less than a year.* I am a white man, accustomed to wars after a different style, I know something about fighting, but I never saw people run away from an encampment like ours at Zimbizo for such slight cause as you had. By running away, you have invited Mirambo to follow you to Unyanyembe; you may be sure he will come." __________________ * The same war is still raging, April, 1874. __________________ The Arabs protested one after another that they had not intended to have left me, but the Wanyamwezi of Mkasiwa had shouted out that the "Musungu" was gone, and the cry had caused a panic among their people, which it was impossible to allay. Later that day the Arabs continued their retreat to Tabora; which is twenty-two miles distant from Mfuto. I determined to proceed more leisurely, and on the second day after the flight from Zimbizo, the Expedition, with all the stores and baggage, marched back to Masangi, and on the third day to Kwihara. The following extracts from my Diary will serve to show better than anything else, my feelings and thoughts about this time, after our disgraceful retreat: Kwihara. Friday, 11th August, 1871.--Arrived to-day from Zimbili, village of Bomboma's. I am quite disappointed and almost disheartened. But I have one consolation, I have done my duty by the Arabs, a duty I thought I owed to the kindness they received me with, now, however, the duty is discharged, and I am free to pursue my own course. I feel happy, for some reasons, that the duty has been paid at such a slight sacrifice. Of course if I had lost my life in this enterprise, I should have been justly punished. But apart from my duty to the consideration with which the Arabs had received me, was the necessity of trying every method of reaching Livingstone. This road which the war with Mirambo has closed, is only a month's march from this place, and, if the road could be opened with my aid, sooner than without it, why should I refuse my aid? The attempt has been made for the second time to Ujiji--both have failed. I am going to try another route; to attempt to go by the north would be folly. Mirambo's mother and people, and the Wasui, are between me and Ujiji, without including the Watuta, who are his allies, and robbers. The southern route seems to be the most practicable one. Very few people know anything of the country south; those whom I have questioned concerning it speak of "want of water" and robber Wazavira, as serious obstacles; they also say that the settlements are few and far between. But before I can venture to try this new route, I have to employ a new set of men, as those whom I took to Mfuto consider their engagements at an end, and the fact of five of their number being killed rather damps their ardor for travelling. It is useless to hope that Wanyamwezi can be engaged, because it is against their custom to go with caravans, as carriers, during war time. My position is most serious. I have a good excuse for returning to the coast, but my conscience will not permit me to do so, after so much money has been expended, and so much confidence has been placed in me. In fact, I feel I must die sooner than return. Saturday, August 12th.--My men, as I supposed they would, have gone; they said that I engaged them to go, to Ujiji by Mirambo's road. I have only thirteen left. With this small body of men, whither can I go? I have over one hundred loads in the storeroom. Livingstone's caravan is also here; his goods consist of seventeen bales of cloth, twelve boxes, and six bags of beads. His men are luxuriating upon the best the country affords. If Livingstone is at Ujiji, he is now locked up with small means of escape. I may consider myself also locked up at Unyamyembe, and I suppose cannot go to Ujiji until this war with Mirambo is settled. Livingstone cannot get his goods, for they are here with mine. He cannot return to Zanzibar, and the road to the Nile is blocked up. He might, if he has men and stores, possibly reach Baker by travelling northwards, through Urundi, thence through Ruanda, Karagwah, Uganda, Unyoro, and Ubari to Gondokoro. Pagazis he cannot obtain, for the sources whence a supply might be obtained are closed. It is an erroneous supposition to think that Livingstone, any more than any other energetic man of his calibre, can travel through Africa without some sort of an escort, and a durable supply of marketable cloth and beads. I was told to-day by a man that when Livingstone was coming from Nyassa Lake towards the Tanganika (the very time that people thought him murdered) he was met by Sayd bin Omar's caravan, which was bound for Ulamba. He was travelling with Mohammed bin Gharib. This Arab, who was coming from Urunga, met Livingstone at Chi-cumbi's, or Kwa-chi-kumbi's, country, and travelled with him afterwards, I hear, to Manyuema or Manyema. Manyuema is forty marches from the north of Nyassa. Livingstone was walking; he was dressed in American sheeting. He had lost all his cloth in Lake Liemba while crossing it in a boat. He had three canoes with him; in one he put his cloth, another he loaded with his boxes and some of his men, into the third he went himself with two servants and two fishermen. The boat with his cloth was upset. On leaving Nyassa, Livingstone went to Ubisa, thence to Uemba, thence to Urungu. Livingstone wore a cap. He had a breech-loading double-barreled rifle with him, which fired fulminating balls. He was also armed with two revolvers. The Wahiyow with Livingstone told this man that their master had many men with him at first, but that several had deserted him. August 13th.--A caravan came in to-day from the seacoast. They reported that William L. Farquhar, whom I left sick at Mpwapwa, Usagara, and his cook, were dead. Farquhar, I was told, died a few days after I had entered Ugogo, his cook died a few weeks later. My first impulse was for revenge. I believed that Leukole had played me false, and had poisoned him, or that he had been murdered in some other manner; but a personal interview with the Msawahili who brought the news informing me that Farquhar had succumbed to his dreadful illness has done away with that suspicion. So far as I could understand him, Farquhar had in the morning declared himself well enough to proceed, but in attempting to rise, had fallen backward and died. I was also told that the Wasagara, possessing some superstitious notions respecting the dead, had ordered Jako to take the body out for burial, that Jako, not being able to carry it, had dragged the body to the jungle, and there left it naked without the slightest covering of earth, or anything else. "There is one of us gone, Shaw, my boy! Who will be the next?" I remarked that night to my companion. August 14th.--Wrote some letters to Zanzibar. Shaw was taken very ill last night. August 19th. Saturday.--My soldiers are employed stringing beads. Shaw is still a-bed. We hear that Mirambo is coming to Unyanyembe. A detachment of Arabs and their slaves have started this morning to possess themselves of the powder left there by the redoubtable Sheikh Sayd bin Salim, the commander-in-chief of the Arab settlements. August 21st. Monday.--Shaw still sick. One hundred fundo of beads have been strung. The Arabs are preparing for another sally against Mirambo. The advance of Mirambo upon Unyanyembe was denied by Sayd bin Salim, this morning. August 22nd.--We were stringing beads this morning, when, about 10 A.M., we heard a continued firing from the direction of Tabora. Rushing out from our work to the front door facing Tabora, we heard considerable volleying, and scattered firing, plainly; and ascending to the top of my tembe, I saw with my glasses the smoke of the guns. Some of my men who were sent on to ascertain the cause came running back with the information that Mirambo had attacked Tabora with over two thousand men, and that a force of over one thousand Watuta, who had allied themselves with him for the sake of plunder, had come suddenly upon Tabora, attacking from opposite directions. Later in the day, or about noon, watching the low saddle over which we could see Tabora, we saw it crowded with fugitives from that settlement, who were rushing to our settlement at Kwihara for protection. From these people we heard the sad information that the noble Khamis bin Abdullah, his little protege, Khamis, Mohammed bin Abdullah, Ibrahim bin Rashid, and Sayf, the son of Ali, the son of Sheikh, the son of Nasib, had been slain. When I inquired into the details of the attack, and the manner of the death of these Arabs, I was told that after the first firing which warned the inhabitants of Tabora that the enemy was upon them, Khamis bin Abdullah and some of the principal Arabs who happened to be with him had ascended to the roof of his tembe, and with his spyglass he had looked towards the direction of the firing. To his great astonishment he saw the plain around Tabora filled with approaching savages, and about two miles off, near Kazima, a tent pitched, which he knew to belong to Mirambo, from its having been presented to that chief by the Arabs of Tabora when they were on good terms with him. Khamis bin Abdullah descended to his house saying, "Let us go to meet him. Arm yourselves, my friends, and come with me." His friends advised him strongly sat to go out of his tembe; for so long as each Arab kept to his tembe they were more than a match for the Ruga Ruga and the Watuta together. But Khamis broke out impatiently with, "Would you advise us to stop in our tembes, for fear of this Mshensi (pagan)? Who goes with me?" His little protege, Khamis, son of a dead friend, asked to be allowed to be his gun-bearer. Mohammed bin Abdulluh, Ibrahim bin Rashid, and Sayf, the son of Ali, young Arabs of good families, who were proud to live with the noble Khamis, also offered to go with him. After hastily arming eighty of his slaves, contrary to the advice of his prudent friends, he sallied out, and was soon face to face with his cunning and determined enemy Mirambo. This chief, upon seeing the Arabs advance towards him, gave orders to retreat slowly. Khamis, deceived by this, rushed on with his friends after them. Suddenly Mirambo ordered his men to advance upon them in a body, and at the sight of the precipitate rush upon their party, Khamis's slaves incontinently took to their heels, never even deigning to cast a glance behind them, leaving their master to the fate which was now overtaking him. The savages surrounded the five Arabs, and though several of them fell before the Arabs' fire, continued to shoot at the little party, until Khamis bin Abdullah received a bullet in the leg, which brought him to his knees, and, for the first time, to the knowledge that his slaves had deserted him. Though wounded, the brave man continued shooting, but he soon afterwards received a bullet through the heart. Little Khamis, upon seeing his adopted father's fall, exclaimed: "My father Khamis is dead, I will die with him," and continued fighting until he received, shortly after, his death wound. In a few minutes there was not one Arab left alive. Late at night some more particulars arrived of this tragic scene. I was told by people who saw the bodies, that the body of Khamis bin Abdullah, who was a fine noble, brave, portly man, was found with the skin of his forehead, the beard and skin of the lower part of his face, the fore part of the nose, the fat over the stomach and abdomen, and, lastly, a bit from each heel, cut off, by the savage allies of Mirambo. And in the same condition were found the bodies of his adopted son and fallen friends. The flesh and skin thus taken from the bodies was taken, of course, by the waganga or medicine men, to make what they deem to be the most powerful potion of all to enable men to be strong against their enemies. This potion is mixed up with their ugali and rice, and is taken in this manner with the most perfect confidence in its efficacy, as an invulnerable protection against bullets and missiles of all descriptions. It was a most sorry scene to witness from our excited settlement at Kwihara, almost the whole of Tabora in flames, and to see the hundreds of people crowding into Kwihara. Perceiving that my people were willing to stand by me, I made preparations for defence by boring loopholes for muskets into the stout clay walls of my tembe. They were made so quickly, and seemed so admirably adapted for the efficient defence of the tembe, that my men got quite brave, and Wangwana refugees with guns in their hands, driven out of Tabora, asked to be admitted into our tembe to assist in its defence. Livingstone's men were also collected, and invited to help defend their master's goods against Mirambo's supposed attack. By night I had one hundred and fifty armed men in my courtyard, stationed at every possible point where an attack might be expected. To-morrow Mirambo has threatened that he will come to Kwihara. I hope he will come, and if he comes within range of an American rifle, I shall see what virtue lies in American lead. August 23rd.--We have passed a very anxious day in the valley of Kwihara. Our eyes were constantly directed towards unfortunate Tabora. It has been said that three tembes only have stood the brunt of the attack. Abid bin Suliman's house has been destroyed, and over two hundred tusks of ivory that belonged to him have become the property of the African Bonaparte. My tembe is in as efficient a state of defence as its style and means of defence will allow. Rifle-pits surround the house outside, and all native huts that obstructed the view have been torn down, and all trees and shrubs which might serve as a shelter for any one of the enemy have been cut. Provisions and water enough for six days have been brought. I have ammunition enough to last two weeks. The walls are three feet thick, and there are apartments within apartments, so that a desperate body of men could fight until the last room had been taken. The Arabs, my neighbours, endeavour to seem brave, but it is evident they are about despairing; I have heard it rumoured that the Arabs of Kwihara, if Tabora is taken, will start en masse for the coast, and give the country up to Mirambo. If such are their intentions, and they are really carried into effect, I shall be in a pretty mess. However, if they do leave me, Mirambo will not reap any benefit from my stores, nor from Livingstone's either, for I shall burn the whole house, and everything in it. August 24th.--The American flag is still waving above my house, and the Arabs are still in Unyanyembe. About 10 A.M., a messenger came from Tabora, asking us if we were not going to assist them against Mirambo. I felt very much like going out to help them; but after debating long upon the pros and cons of it,--asking myself, Was it prudent? Ought I to go? What will become of the people if I were killed? Will they not desert me again? What was the fate of Khamis bin Abdullah?--I sent word that I would not go; that they ought to feel perfectly at home in their tembes against such a force as Mirambo had, that I should be glad if they could induce him to come to Kwihara, in which case I would try and pick him off. They say that Mirambo, and his principal officer, carry umbrellas over their heads, that he himself has long hair like a Mnyamwezi pagazi, and a beard. If he comes, all the men carrying umbrellas will have bullets rained on them in the hope that one lucky bullet may hit him. According to popular ideas, I should make a silver bullet, but I have no silver with me. I might make a gold one. About, noon I went over to see Sheikh bin Nasib, leaving about 100 men inside the house to guard it while I was absent. This old fellow is quite a philosopher in his way. I should call him a professor of minor philosophy. He is generally so sententious--fond of aphorisms, and a very deliberate character. I was astonished to find him so despairing. His aphorisms have deserted him, his philosophy has not been able to stand against disaster. He listened to me, more like a moribund, than one possessing all the means of defence and offence. I loaded his two-pounder with ball, and grape, and small slugs of iron, and advised him not to fire it until Mirambo's people were at his gates. About 4 p.m. I heard that Mirambo had deported himself to Kazima, a place north-west of Tabora a couple of miles. August 26th.--The Arabs sallied out this morning to attack Kazima, but refrained, because Mirambo asked for a day's grace, to eat the beef he had stolen from them. He has asked them impudently to come to-morrow morning, at which time he says he will give them plenty of fighting. Kwihara is once more restored to a peaceful aspect, and fugitives no longer throng its narrow limits in fear and despair. August 27th.--Mirambo retreated during the night; and when the Arabs went in force to attack his village of Kazima, they found it vacant. The Arabs hold councils of war now-a-days--battle meetings, of which they seem to be very fond, but extremely slow to act upon. They were about to make friends with the northern Watuta, but Mirambo was ahead of them. They had talked of invading Mirambo's territory the second time, but Mirambo invaded Unyanyembe with fire and sword, bringing death to many a household, and he has slain the noblest of them all. The Arabs spend their hours in talking and arguing, while the Ujiji and Karagwah roads are more firmly closed than ever. Indeed many of the influential Arabs are talking of returning to Zanzibar; saying, "Unyanyembe is ruined." Meanwhile, with poor success, however, perceiving the impossibility of procuring Wanyamwezi pagazis, I am hiring the Wangwana renegades living in Unyanyembe to proceed with me to Ujiji, at treble prices. Each man is offered 30 doti, ordinary hire of a carrier being only from 5 to 10 doti to Ujiji. I want fifty men. I intend to leave about sixty or seventy loads here under charge of a guard. I shall leave all personal baggage behind, except one small portmanteau. August 28th.--No news to-day of Mirambo. Shaw is getting strong again. Sheikh bin Nasib called on me to-day, but, except on minor philosophy, he had nothing to say. I have determined, after a study of the country, to lead a flying caravan to Ujiji, by a southern road through northern Ukonongo and Ukawendi. Sheikh bin Nasib has been informed to-night of this determination. August 29th.--Shaw got up to-day for a little work. Alas! all my fine-spun plans of proceeding by boat over the Victoria N'Yanza, thence down the Nile, have been totally demolished, I fear, through this war with Mirambo--this black Bonaparte. Two months have been wasted here already. The Arabs take such a long time to come to a conclusion. Advice is plentiful, and words are as numerous as the blades of grass in our valley; all that is wanting indecision. The Arabs' hope and stay is dead--Khamis bin Abdullah is no more. Where are the other warriors of whom the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi bards sing? Where is mighty Kisesa--great Abdullah bin Nasib? Where is Sayd, the son of Majid? Kisesa is in Zanzibar, and Sayd, the son of Majid, is in Ujiji, as yet ignorant that his son has fallen in the forest of Wilyankuru. Shaw is improving fast. I am unsuccessful as yet in procuring soldiers. I almost despair of ever being able to move from here. It is such a drowsy, sleepy, slow, dreaming country. Arabs, Wangwana, Wanyamwezi, are all alike--all careless how time flies. Their to-morrow means sometimes within a month. To me it is simply maddening. August 30th.--Shaw will not work. I cannot get him to stir himself. I have petted him and coaxed him; I have even cooked little luxuries for him myself. And, while I am straining every nerve to get ready for Ujiji, Shaw is satisfied with looking on listlessly. What a change from the ready-handed bold man he was at Zanzibar! I sat down by his side to-day with my palm and needle in order to encourage him, and to-day, for the first time, I told him of the real nature of my mission. I told him that I did not care about the geography of the country half as much as I cared about FINDING LIVINGSTONE! I told him, for the first time, "Now, my dear Shaw, you think probably that I have been sent here to find the depth of the Tanganika. Not a bit of it, man; I was told to find Livingstone. It is to find Livingstone I am here. It is to find Livingstone I am going. Don't you see, old fellow, the importance of the mission; don't you see what reward you will get from Mr. Bennett, if you will help me? I am sure, if ever you come to New York, you will never be in want of a fifty-dollar bill. So shake yourself; jump about; look lively. Say you will not die; that is half the battle. Snap your fingers at the fever. I will guarantee the fever won't kill you. I have medicine enough for a regiment here!" His eyes lit up a little, but the light that shone in them shortly faded, and died. I was quite disheartened. I made some strong punch, to put fire in his veins, that I might see life in him. I put sugar, and eggs, and seasoned it with lemon and spice. "Drink, Shaw," said I, "and forget your infirmities. You are not sick, dear fellow; it is only ennui you are feeling. Look at Selim there. Now, I will bet any amount, that he will not die; that I will carry him home safe to his friends! I will carry you home also, if you will, let me!" September 1st:--According to Thani bin Abdullah whom I visited to-day, at his tembe in Maroro, Mirambo lost two hundred men in the attack upon Tabora, while the Arabs' losses were, five Arabs, thirteen freemen and eight slaves, besides three tembes, and over one hundred small huts burned, two hundred and eighty ivory tusks, and sixty cows and bullocks captured. September 3rd.--Received a packet of letters and newspapers from Capt. Webb, at Zanzibar. What a good thing it is that one's friends, even in far America, think of the absent one in Africa! They tell me, that no one dreams of my being in Africa yet! I applied to Sheikh bin Nasib to-day to permit Livingstone's caravan to go under my charge to Ujiji, but he would not listen to it. He says he feels certain I am going to my death. September 4th.--Shaw is quite well to-day, he says. Selim is down with the fever. My force is gradually increasing, though some of my old soldiers are falling off. Umgareza is blind; Baruti has the small-pox very badly; Sadala has the intermittent. September 5th.--Baruti died this morning. He was one of my best soldiers; and was one of those men who accompanied Speke to Egypt. Baruti is number seven of those who have died since leaving Zanzibar. To-day my ears have been poisoned with the reports of the Arabs, about the state of the country I am about to travel through. "The roads are bad; they are all stopped; the Ruga-Ruga are out in the forests; the Wakonongo are coming from the south to help Mirambo; the Washensi are at war, one tribe against another." My men are getting dispirited, they have imbibed the fears of the Arabs and the Wanyamwezi. Bombay begins to feel that I had better go back to the coast, and try again some other time. We buried Baruti under the shade of the banyan-tree, a few yards west of my tembe. The grave was made four and a half feet deep and three feet wide. At the bottom on one side a narrow trench was excavated, into which the body was rolled on his side, with his face turned towards Mecca. The body was dressed in a doti and a half of new American sheeting. After it was placed properly in its narrow bed, a sloping roof of sticks, covered over with matting and old canvas, was made, to prevent the earth from falling over the body. The grave was then filled, the soldiers laughing merrily. On the top of the grave was planted a small shrub, and into a small hole made with the hand, was poured water lest he might feel thirsty--they said--on his way to Paradise; water was then sprinkled all ever the grave, and the gourd broken. This ceremony being ended, the men recited the Arabic Fat-hah, after which they left the grave of their dead comrade to think no more of him. September 7th.--An Arab named Mohammed presented me to-day with a little boy-slave, called "Ndugu M'hali" (my brother's wealth). As I did not like the name, I called the chiefs of my caravan together, and asked them to give him a better name. One suggested "Simba" (a lion), another said he thought "Ngombe" (a cow) would suit the boy-child, another thought he ought to be called "Mirambo," which raised a loud laugh. Bombay thought "Bombay Mdogo" would suit my black-skinned infant very well. Ulimengo, however, after looking at his quick eyes, and noting his celerity of movement, pronounced the name Ka-lu-la as the best for him, "because," said he, "just look at his eyes, so bright look at his form, so slim! watch his movements, how quick! Yes, Kalulu is his name." "Yes, bana," said the others, "let it be Kalulu." "Kalulu" is a Kisawahili term for the young of the blue-buck (perpusilla) antelope. "Well, then," said I, water being brought in a huge tin pan, Selim, who was willing to stand godfather, holding him over the water, "let his name henceforth be Kalulu, and let no man take it from him," and thus it was that the little black boy of Mohammed's came to be called Kalulu. The Expedition is increasing in numbers. We had quite an alarm before dark. Much firing was heard at Tabora, which led us to anticipate an attack on Kwihara. It turned out, however, to be a salute fired in honour of the arrival of Sultan Kitambi to pay a visit to Mkasiwa, Sultan of Unyanyembe. September 8th.--Towards night Sheikh bin Nasib received a letter from an Arab at Mfuto, reporting that an attack was made on that place by Mirambo and his Watuta allies. It also warned him to bid the people of Kwihara hold themselves in readiness, because if Mirambo succeeded in storming Mfuto, he would march direct on Kwihara. September 9th.--Mirambo was defeated with severe loss yesterday, in his attack upon Mfuto. He was successful in an assault he made upon a small Wanyamwezi village, but when he attempted to storm Mfuto, he was repulsed with severe loss, losing three of his principal men. Upon withdrawing his forces from the attack, the inhabitants sallied out, and followed him to the forest of Umanda, where he was again utterly routed, himself ingloriously flying from the field. The heads of his chief men slain in the attack were brought to Kwikuru, the boma of Mkasiwa. September 14th.--The Arab boy Selim is delirious from constant fever. Shaw is sick again. These two occupy most of my time. I am turned into a regular nurse, for I have no one to assist me in attending upon them. If I try to instruct Abdul Kader in the art of being useful, his head is so befogged with the villainous fumes of Unyamwezi tobacco, that he wanders bewildered about, breaking dishes, and upsetting cooked dainties, until I get so exasperated that my peace of mind is broken completely for a full hour. If I ask Ferajji, my now formally constituted cook, to assist, his thick wooden head fails to receive an idea, and I am thus obliged to play the part of chef de cuisine. September 15th.--The third month of my residence in Unyanyembe is almost finished, and I am still here, but I hope to be gone before the 23rd inst. All last night, until nine A.M. this morning, my soldiers danced and sang to the names of their dead comrades, whose bones now bleach in the forests of Wilyankuru. Two or three huge pots of pombe failed to satisfy the raging thirst which the vigorous exercise they were engaged in, created. So, early this morning, I was called upon to contribute a shukka for another potful of the potent liquor. To-day I was busy selecting the loads for each soldier and pagazi. In order to lighten their labor as much as possible, I reduced each load from 70 lbs. to 50 lbs., by which I hope to be enabled to make some long marches. I have been able to engage ten pagazis during the last two or three days. I have two or three men still very sick, and it is almost useless to expect that they will be able to carry anything, but I am in hopes that other men may be engaged to take their places before the actual day of departure, which now seems to be drawing near rapidly. September 16th.--We have almost finished our work--on the fifth day from this--God willing--we shall march. I engaged two more pagazis besides two guides, named Asmani and Mabruki. If vastness of the human form could terrify any one, certainly Asmani's appearance is well calculated to produce that effect. He stands considerably over six feet without shoes, and has shoulders broad enough for two ordinary men. To-morrow I mean to give the people a farewell feast, to celebrate our departure from this forbidding and unhappy country. September 17th.--The banquet is ended. I slaughtered two bullocks, and had a barbacue; three sheep, two goats, and fifteen chickens, 120 lbs. of rice, twenty large loaves of bread made of Indian corn-flour, one hundred eggs, 10 lbs. of butter, and five gallons of sweet-milk, were the contents of which the banquet was formed. The men invited their friends and neighbours, and about one hundred women and children partook of it. After the banquet was ended, the pombe, or native beer, was brought in in five gallon pots, and the people commenced their dance, which continues even now as I write. September 19th.--I had a slight attack of fever to-day, which has postponed our departure. Selim and Shaw are both recovered. About 8 P.M. Sheik bin Nasib came to me imploring me not to go away to-morrow, because I was so sick. Thani Sakhburi suggested to me that I might stay another month. In answer, I told them that white men are not accustomed to break their words. I had said I would go, and I intended to go. Sheikh bin Nasib gave up all hope of inducing me to remain another day, and he has gone away, with a promise to write to Seyd Burghash to tell him how obstinate I am; and that I am determined to be killed. This was a parting shot. About 10 P.M. the fever had gone. All were asleep in the tembe but myself, and an unutterable loneliness came on me as I reflected on my position, and my intentions, and felt the utter lack of sympathy with me in all around. It requires more nerve than I possess, to dispel all the dark presentiments that come upon the mind. But probably what I call presentiments are simply the impress on the mind of the warnings which these false-hearted Arabs have repeated so often. This melancholy and loneliness I feel, may probably have their origin from the same cause. The single candle, which barely lights up the dark shade that fills the corners of my room, is but a poor incentive to cheerfulness. I feel as though I were imprisoned between stone walls. But why should I feel as if baited by these stupid, slow-witted Arabs and their warnings and croakings? I fancy a suspicion haunts my mind, as I write, that there lies some motive behind all this. I wonder if these Arabs tell me all these things to keep me here, in the hope that I might be induced another time to assist them in their war with Mirambo! If they think so, they are much mistaken, for I have taken a solemn, enduring oath, an oath to be kept while the least hope of life remains in me, not to be tempted to break the resolution I have formed, never to give up the search, until I find Livingstone alive, or find his dead body; and never to return home without the strongest possible proofs that he is alive, or that he is dead. No living man, or living men, shall stop me, only death can prevent me. But death--not even this; I shall not die, I will not die, I cannot die! And something tells me, I do not know what it is--perhaps it is the ever-living hopefulness of my own nature, perhaps it is the natural presumption born out of an abundant and glowing vitality, or the outcome of an overweening confidence in oneself--anyhow and everyhow, something tells me to-night I shall find him, and--write it larger--FIND HIM! FIND HIM! Even the words are inspiring. I feel more happy. Have I uttered a prayer? I shall sleep calmly to-night. I have felt myself compelled to copy out of my Diary the above notes, as they explain, written as they are on the spot, the vicissitudes of my "Life at Unyanyembe." To me they appear to explain far better than any amount of descriptive writing, even of the most graphic, the nature of the life I led. There they are, unexaggerated, in their literality, precisely as I conceived them at the time they happened. They speak of fevers without number to myself and men, they relate our dangers, and little joys, our annoyances and our pleasures, as they occurred. CHAPTER X. -- TO MRERA, UKONONGO. Departure from Unyanyembe.--The expedition reorganized.-- Bombay.--Mr. Shaw returns sick to Unyanyembe.--A noble forest.-The fever described.--Happiness of the camp.--A park-land.--Herds of game and noble sport.--A mutiny.-- Punishment of the ringleaders. Elephants.--Arrival at Mrera The 20th of September had arrived. This was the day I had decided to cut loose from those who tormented me with their doubts, their fears, and beliefs, and commence the march to Ujiji by a southern route. I was very weak from the fever that had attacked me the day before, and it was a most injudicious act to commence a march under such circumstances. But I had boasted to Sheikh bin Nasib that a white man never breaks his word, and my reputation as a white man would have been ruined had I stayed behind, or postponed the march, in consequence of feebleness. I mustered the entire caravan outside the tembe, our flags and streamers were unfurled, the men had their loads resting on the walls, there was considerable shouting, and laughing, and negroidal fanfaronnade. The Arabs had collected from curiosity's sake to see us off--all except Sheikh bin Nasib, whom I had offended by my asinine opposition to his wishes. The old Sheikh took to his bed, but sent his son to bear me a last morsel of Philosophic sentimentality, which I was to treasure up as the last words of the patriarchal Sheikh, the son of Nasib, the son of Ali, the son of Sayf. Poor Sheikh! if thou hadst only known what was at the bottom of this stubbornness--this ass-like determination to proceed the wrong way--what wouldst thou then have said, 0 Sheikh? But the Sheikh comforted himself with the thought that I might know what I was about better than he did, which is most likely, only neither he nor any other Arab will ever know exactly the motive that induced me to march at all westward--when the road to the east was ever so much easier. My braves whom I had enlisted for a rapid march somewhere, out of Unyanyembe, were named as follows:-- 1. John William Shaw, London, England. 2. Selim Heshmy, Arab. 3. Seedy Mbarak Mombay, Zanzibar. 4. Mabruki Spoke, ditto. 5. Ulimengo, ditto 6. Ambari, ditto. 7. Uledi, ditto. 8. Asmani, ditto. 9. Sarmean, ditto. 10. Kamna, ditto. 11. Zaidi, ditto. 12. Khamisi, ditto. 13. Chowpereh, Bagamoyo. 14. Kingaru, ditto. 15. Belali, ditto. 16. Ferous, Unyanyembe. 17. Rojab, Bagamoyo. 18. Mabruk Unyanyembe, Unyanyembe. 19. Mtamani, ditto. 20. Chanda, Maroro. 21. Sadala, Zanzibar. 22. Kombo, ditto. 23. Saburi the Great, Maroro. 24. Saburi the Little, ditto. 25. Marora, ditto. 26. Ferajji (the cook), Zanzibar. 27. Mabruk Saleem, Zanzibar. 28. Baraka, ditto. 29. Ibrahim, Maroro. 30. Mabruk Ferous, ditto. 31. Baruti, Bagamoyo. 32. Umgareza, Zanzibar. 33. Hamadi (the guide), ditto. 34. Asmani, ditto, ditto. 35. Mabruk, ditto ditto. 36. Hamdallah (the guide), Tabora. 37. Jumah, Zanzibar. 38. Maganga, Mkwenkwe. 39. Muccadum, Tabora. 40. Dasturi, ditto. 41. Tumayona, Ujiji. 42. Mparamoto, Ujiji. 43. Wakiri, ditto. 44. Mufu, ditto. 45. Mpepo, ditto. 46. Kapingu, Ujiji. 47. Mashishanga, ditto. 48. Muheruka, ditto. 49. Missossi, ditto. 50. Tufum Byah, ditto. 51. Majwara (boy), Uganda. 52. Belali (boy), Uemba. 53. Kalulu (boy), Lunda. 54. Abdul Kader (tailor), Malabar. These are the men and boys whom I had chosen to be my companions on the apparently useless mission of seeking for the lost traveller, David Livingstone. The goods with which I had burdened them, consisted of 1,000 doti, or 4,000 yds. of cloth, six bags of beads, four loads of ammunition, one tent, one bed and clothes, one box of medicine, sextant and books, two loads of tea, coffee, and sugar, one load of flour and candles, one load of canned meats, sardines, and miscellaneous necessaries, and one load of cooking utensils. The men were all in their places except Bombay. Bombay had gone; he could not be found. I despatched a man to hunt him up. He was found weeping in the arms of his Delilah. "Why did you go away, Bombay, when you knew I intended to go, and was waiting?" "Oh, master, I was saying good-bye to my missis." "Oh, indeed?" "Yes, master; you no do it, when you go away? "Silence, sir." "Oh! all right." "What is the matter with you, Bombay?" "Oh, nuffin." As I saw he was in a humour to pick a quarrel with me before those Arabs who had congregated outside of my tembe to witness my departure; and as I was not in a humour to be balked by anything that might turn up, the consequence was, that I was obliged to thrash Bombay, an operation which soon cooled his hot choler, but brought down on my head a loud chorus of remonstrances from my pretended Arab friends--"Now, master, don't, don't--stop it, master: the poor man knows better than you what he and you may expect on the road you are now taking." If anything was better calculated to put me in a rage than Bombay's insolence before a crowd it was this gratuitous interference with what I considered my own especial business; but I restrained myself, though I told them, in a loud voice, that I did not choose to be interfered with, unless they wished to quarrel with me. "No, no, bana," they all exclaimed; "we do not wish to quarrel with you. In the name of God! go on your way in peace." "Fare you well, then," said I, shaking hands with them. "Farewell, master, farewell. We wish you, we are sure, all success, and God be with you, and guide you!" "March!" A parting salute was fired; the flags were raised up by the guides, each pagazi rushed for his load, and in a short time, with songs and shouts, the head of the Expedition had filed round the western end of my tembe along the road to Ugunda. "Now, Mr. Shaw, I am waiting, sir. Mount your donkey, if you cannot walk." "Please, Mr. Stanley, I am afraid I cannot go." "Why?" "I don't know, I am sure. I feel very weak." "So am I weak. It was but late last night, as you know, that the fever left me. Don't back out before these Arabs; remember you are a white man. Here, Selim, Mabruki, Bombay, help Mr. Shaw on his donkey, and walk by him." "Oh, bana, bans," said the Arabs, "don't take him. Do you not see he is sick?" "You keep away; nothing will prevent me from taking him. He shall go." "Go on, Bombay." The last of my party had gone. The tembe, so lately a busy scene, had already assumed a naked, desolate appearance. I turned towards the Arabs, lifted my hat, and said again, "Farewell," then faced about for the south, followed by my four young gun-bearers, Selim, Kalulu, Majwara, and Belali. After half an hour's march the scenery became more animated. Shaw began to be amused. Bombay had forgotten our quarrel, and assured me, if I could pass Mirambo's country, I should "catch the Tanganika;" Mabruki Burton also believed we should. Selim was glad to leave Unyanyembe, where he had suffered so much from fever; and there was a something in the bold aspect of the hills which cropped upward--above fair valleys, that enlivened and encouraged me to proceed. In an hour and a half, we arrived at our camp in the Kinyamwezi village of Mkwenkwe, the birthplace--of our famous chanter Maganga. My tent was pitched, the goods were stored in one of the tembes; but one-half the men had returned to Kwihara, to take one more embrace of their wives and concubines. Towards night I was attacked once again with the intermittent fever. Before morning it had departed, leaving me terribly prostrated with weakness. I had heard the men conversing with each other over their camp-fires upon the probable prospects of the next day. It was a question with them whether I should continue the march. Mostly all were of opinion that, since the master was sick, there would be no march. A superlative obstinacy, however, impelled me on, merely to spite their supine souls; but when I sallied out of my tent to call them to get ready, I found that at least twenty were missing; and Livingstone's letter-carrier, "Kaif-Halek"--or, How-do-ye-do?--had not arrived with Dr. Livingstone's letter-bag. Selecting twenty of the strongest and faithfulest men I despatched them back to Unyanyembe in search of the missing men; and Selim was sent to Sheikh bin Nasib to borrow, or buy, a long slave-chain. Towards night my twenty detectives returned with nine of the missing men. The Wajiji had deserted in a body, and they could not be found. Selim also returned with a strong chain, capable of imprisoning within the collars attached to it at least ten men. Kaif-Halek also appeared with the letter-bag which he was to convey to Livingstone under my escort. The men were then addressed, and the slave-chain exhibited to them. I told them that I was the first white man who had taken a slave-chain with him on his travels; but, as they were all so frightened of accompanying me, I was obliged to make use of it, as it was the only means of keeping them together. The good need never fear being chained by me--only the deserters, the thieves, who received their hire and presents, guns and ammunition, and then ran away. I would not put any one this time in chains; but whoever deserted after this day, I should halt, and not continue the march till I found him, after which he should march to Ujiji with the slave-chain round his neck. "Do you hear?"--"Yes," was the answer. "Do you understand?"--"Yes." We broke up camp at 6 P.M., and took the road for Inesuka, at which place we arrived at 8 P.M. When we were about commencing the march the next morning, it was discovered that two more had deserted. Baraka and Bombay were at once despatched to Unyanyembe to bring back the two missing men--Asmani and Kingaru--with orders not to return without them. This was the third time that the latter had deserted, as the reader may remember. While the pursuit was being effected we halted at the village of Inesuka, more for the sake of Shaw than any one else. In the evening the incorrigible deserters were brought back, and, as I had threatened, were well flogged and chained, to secure them against further temptation. Bombay and Baraka had a picturesque story to relate of the capture; and, as I was in an exceedingly good humour, their services were rewarded with a fine cloth each. On the following morning another carrier had absconded, taking with him his hire of fifteen new cloths and a gun but to halt anywhere near Unyanyembe any longer was a danger that could be avoided only by travelling without stoppages towards the southern jungle-lands. It will be remembered I had in my train the redoubtable Abdul Kader, the tailor, he who had started from Bagamoyo with such bright anticipations of the wealth of ivory to be obtained in the great interior of Africa. On this morning, daunted by the reports of the dangers ahead, Abdul Kader craved to be discharged. He vowed he was sick, and unable to proceed any further. As I was pretty well tired of him, I paid him off in cloth, and permitted him to go. About half way to Kasegera Mabruk Saleem was suddenly taken sick. I treated him with a grain of calomel, and a couple of ounces of brandy. As he was unable to walk, I furnished him with a donkey. Another man named Zaidi was ill with a rheumatic fever; and Shaw tumbled twice off the animal he was riding, and required an infinite amount of coaxing to mount again. Verily, my expedition was pursued by adverse fortunes, and it seemed as if the Fates had determined upon our return. It really appeared as if everything was going to wreck and ruin. If I were only fifteen days from Unyanyembe, thought I, I should be saved! Kasegera was a scene of rejoicing the afternoon and evening of our arrival. Absentees had just returned from the coast, and the youths were brave in their gaudy bedizenment, their new barsatis, their soharis, and long cloths of bright new kaniki, with which they had adorned themselves behind some bush before they had suddenly appeared dressed in all this finery. The women "Hi-hi'ed" like maenads, and the "Lu-lu-lu'ing" was loud, frequent, and fervent the whole of that afternoon. Sylphlike damsels looked up to the youthful heroes with intensest admiration on their features; old women coddled and fondled them; staff-using, stooping-backed patriarchs blessed them. This is fame in Unyamwezi! All the fortunate youths had to use their tongues until the wee hours of next morning had arrived, relating all the wonders they had seen near the Great Sea, and in the "Unguja," the island of Zanzibar; of how they saw great white men's ships, and numbers of white men, of their perils and trials during their journey through the land of the fierce Wagogo, and divers other facts, with which the reader and I are by this time well acquainted. On the 24th we struck camp, and marched through a forest of imbiti wood in a S.S.W. direction, and in about three hours came to Kigandu. On arriving before this village, which is governed by a daughter of Mkasiwa, we were informed we could not enter unless we paid toll. As we would not pay toll, we were compelled to camp in a ruined, rat-infested boma, situated a mile to the left of Kigandu, being well scolded by the cowardly natives for deserting Mkasiwa in his hour of extremity. We were accused of running away from the war. Almost on the threshold of our camp Shaw, in endeavouring to dismount, lost his stirrups, and fell prone on his face. The foolish fellow actually, laid on the ground in the hot sun a full hour; and when I coldly asked him if he did not feel rather uncomfortable, he sat up, and wept like a child. "Do you wish to go back, Mr. Shaw?" "If you please. I do not believe I can go any farther; and if you would only be kind enough, I should like to return very much." "Well, Mr. Shaw, I have come to the conclusion that it is best, you should return. My patience is worn out. I have endeavoured faithfully to lift you above these petty miseries which you nourish so devotedly. You are simply suffering from hypochondria. You imagine yourself sick, and nothing, evidently, will persuade you that you are not. Mark my words--to return to Unyanyembe, is to DIE! Should you happen to fall sick in Kwihara who knows how to administer medicine to you? Supposing you are delirious, how can any of the soldiers know what you want, or what is beneficial and necessary for you? Once again, I repeat, if you return, you DIE!" "Ah, dear me; I wish I had never ventured to come! I thought life in Africa was so different from this. I would rather go back if you will permit me." The next day was a halt, and arrangements were made for the transportation of Shaw back to Kwihara. A strong litter was made, and four stout pagazis were hired at Kigandu to carry him. Bread was baked, a canteen was filled with cold tea, and a leg of a kid was roasted for his sustenance while on the road. The night before we parted we spent together. Shaw played some tunes on an accordion which I had purchased for him at Zanzibar; but, though it was only a miserable ten-dollar affair, I thought the homely tunes evoked from the instrument that night were divine melodies. The last tune played before retiring was "Home, sweet Home." The morning of the 27th we were all up early: There was considerable vis in our movements. A long, long march lay before us that day; but then I was to leave behind all the sick and ailing. Only those who were healthy, and could march fast and long, were to accompany me. Mabruk Saleem I left in charge of a native doctor, who was to medicate him for a gift of cloth which I gave him in advance. The horn sounded to get ready. Shaw was lifted in his litter on the shoulders of his carriers. My men formed two ranks; the flags were lifted; and between these two living rows, and under those bright streamers, which were to float over the waters of the Tanganika before he should see them again, Shaw was borne away towards the north; while we filed off to the south, with quicker and more elastic steps, as if we felt an incubus had been taken from us. We ascended a ridge bristling with syenite boulders of massive size, appearing above a forest of dwarf trees. The view which we saw was similar to that we had often seen elsewhere. An illimitable forest stretching in grand waves far beyond the ken of vision--ridges, forest-clad, rising gently one above another until they receded in the dim purple-blue distance--with a warm haze floating above them, which, though clear enough in our neighbourhood, became impenetrably blue in the far distance. Woods, woods, woods, leafy branches, foliage globes, or parachutes, green, brown, or sere in colour, forests one above another, rising, falling, and receding--a very leafy ocean. The horizon, at all points, presents the same view, there may be an indistinct outline of a hill far away, or here and there a tall tree higher than the rest conspicuous in its outlines against the translucent sky--with this exception it is the same--the same clear sky dropping into the depths of the forest, the same outlines, the same forest, the same horizon, day after day, week after week; we hurry to the summit of a ridge, expectant of a change, but the wearied eyes, after wandering over the vast expanse, return to the immediate surroundings, satiated with the eversameness of such scenes. Carlyle, somewhere in his writings, says, that though the Vatican is great, it is but the chip of an eggshell compared to the star-fretted dome where Arcturus and Orion glance for ever; and I say that, though the grove of Central Park, New York, is grand compared to the thin groves seen in other great cities, that though the Windsor and the New Forests may be very fine and noble in England, yet they are but fagots of sticks compared to these eternal forests of Unyamwezi. We marched three hours, and then halted for refreshments. I perceived that the people were very tired, not yet inured to a series of long marches, or rather, not in proper trim for earnest, hard work after our long rest in Kwihara. When we resumed our march again there were several manifestations of bad temper and weariness. But a few good-natured remarks about their laziness put them on their mettle, and we reached Ugunda at 2 P.M. after another four hours' spurt. Ugunda is a very large village in the district of Ugunda, which adjoins the southern frontier of Unyanyembe. The village probably numbers four hundred families, or two thousand souls. It is well protected by a tall and strong palisade of three-inch timber. Stages have been erected at intervals above the palisades with miniature embrasures in the timber, for the muskets of the sharpshooters, who take refuge within these box-like stages to pick out the chiefs of an attacking force. An inner ditch, with the sand or soil thrown up three or four feet high against the palings, serves as protection for the main body of the defenders, who kneel in the ditch, and are thus enabled to withstand a very large force. For a mile or two outside the village all obstructions are cleared, and the besieged are thus warned by sharp-eyed watchers to be prepared for the defence before the enemy approaches within musket range. Mirambo withdrew his force of robbers from before this strongly-defended village after two or three ineffectual attempts to storm it, and the Wagunda have been congratulating themselves ever since, upon having driven away the boldest marauder that Unyamwezi has seen for generations. The Wagunda have about three thousand acres under cultivation around their principal village, and this area suffices to produce sufficient grain not only for their own consumption, but also for the many caravans which pass by this way for Ufipa and Marungu. However brave the Wagunda may be within the strong enclosure with which they have surrounded their principal village, they are not exempt from the feeling of insecurity which fills the soul of a Mnyamwezi during war-time. At this place the caravans are accustomed to recruit their numbers from the swarms of pagazis who volunteer to accompany them to the distant ivory regions south; but I could not induce a soul to follow me, so great was their fear of Mirambo and his Ruga-Raga. They were also full of rumors of wars ahead. It was asserted that Mbogo was advancing towards Ugunda with a thousand Wakonongo, that the Wazavira had attacked a caravan four months previously, that Simba was scouring the country with a band of ferocious mercenaries, and much more of the same nature and to the same intent. On the 28th we arrived at a small snug village embosomed within the forest called Benta, three hours and a quarter from Ugunda. The road led through the cornfields of the Wagunda, and then entered the clearings around the villages of Kisari, within one of which we found the proprietor of a caravan who was drumming up carriers for Ufipa. He had been halted here two months, and he made strenuous exertions to induce my men to join his caravan, a proceeding that did not tend to promote harmony between us. A few days afterwards I found, on my return, that he had given up the idea of proceeding south. Leaving Kisari, we marched through a thin jungle of black jack, over sun-cracked ground with here and there a dried-up pool, the bottom of which was well tramped by elephant and rhinoceros. Buffalo and zebra tracks were now frequent, and we were buoyed up with the hope that before long we should meet game. Benta was well supplied with Indian corn and a grain which the natives called choroko, which I take to be vetches. I purchased a large supply of choroko for my own personal use, as I found it to be a most healthy food. The corn was stored on the flat roofs of the tembes in huge boxes made out of the bark of the mtundu-tree. The largest box I have ever seen in Africa was seen here. It might be taken for a Titan's hat-box; it was seven feet in diameter, and ten feet in height. On the 29th, after travelling in a S.W. by S. direction, we reached Kikuru. The march lasted for five hours over sun-cracked plains, growing the black jack, and ebony, and dwarf shrubs, above which numerous ant-hills of light chalky-coloured earth appeared like sand dunes. The mukunguru, a Kisawahili term for fever, is frequent in this region of extensive forests and flat plains, owing to the imperfect drainage provided by nature for them. In the dry season there is nothing very offensive in the view of the country. The burnt grass gives rather a sombre aspect to the country, covered with the hard-baked tracks of animals which haunt these plains during the latter part of the rainy season. In the forest numbers of trees lie about in the last stages of decay, and working away with might and main on the prostrate trunks may be seen numberless insects of various species. Impalpably, however, the poison of the dead and decaying vegetation is inhaled into the system with a result sometimes as fatal as that which is said to arise from the vicinity of the Upas-tree. The first evil results experienced from the presence of malaria are confined bowels and an oppressive languor, excessive drowsiness, and a constant disposition to yawn. The tongue assumes a yellowish, sickly hue, coloured almost to blackness; even the teeth become yellow, and are coated with an offensive matter. The eyes of the patient sparkle lustrously, and become suffused with water. These are sure symptoms of the incipient fever which shortly will rage through the system. Sometimes this fever is preceded by a violent shaking fit, during which period blankets may be heaped on the patient's form, with but little amelioration of the deadly chill he feels. It is then succeeded by an unusually severe headache, with excessive pains about the loins and spinal column, which presently will spread over the shoulder-blades, and, running up the neck, find a final lodgment in the back and front of the head. Usually, however, the fever is not preceded by a chill, but after languor and torpitude have seized him, with excessive heat and throbbing temples, the loin and spinal column ache, and raging thirst soon possesses him. The brain becomes crowded with strange fancies, which sometimes assume most hideous shapes. Before the darkened vision of the suffering man, float in a seething atmosphere, figures of created and uncreated reptiles, which are metamorphosed every instant into stranger shapes and designs, growing every moment more confused, more complicated, more hideous and terrible. Unable to bear longer the distracting scene, he makes an effort and opens, his eyes, and dissolves the delirious dream, only, however, to glide again unconsciously into another dream-land where another unreal inferno is dioramically revealed, and new agonies suffered. Oh! the many many hours, that I have groaned under the terrible incubi which the fits of real delirium evoke. Oh! the racking anguish of body that a traveller in Africa must undergo! Oh! the spite, the fretfulness, the vexation which the horrible phantasmagoria of diabolisms induce! The utmost patience fails to appease, the most industrious attendance fails to gratify, the deepest humility displeases. During these terrible transitions, which induce fierce distraction, Job himself would become irritable, insanely furious, and choleric. A man in such a state regards himself as the focus of all miseries. When recovered, he feels chastened, becomes urbane and ludicrously amiable, he conjures up fictitious delights from all things which, but yesterday, possessed for him such awful portentous aspects. His men he regards with love and friendship; whatever is trite he views with ecstasy. Nature appears charming; in the dead woods and monotonous forest his mind becomes overwhelmed with delight. I speak for myself, as a careful analysation of the attack, in all its severe, plaintive, and silly phases, appeared to me. I used to amuse myself with taking notes of the humorous and the terrible, the fantastic and exaggerated pictures that were presented to me--even while suffering the paroxysms induced by fever. We arrived at a large pool, known as the Ziwani, after a four hours' march in a S.S.W. direction, the 1st of October. We discovered an old half-burnt khambi, sheltered by a magnificent mkuyu (sycamore), the giant of the forests of Unyamwezi, which after an hour we transformed into a splendid camp. If I recollect rightly, the stem of the tree measured thirty-eight feet in circumference. It is the finest tree of its kind I have seen in Africa. A regiment might with perfect ease have reposed under this enormous dome of foliage during a noon halt. The diameter of the shadow it cast on the ground was one hundred and twenty feet. The healthful vigor that I was enjoying about this time enabled me to regard my surroundings admiringly. A feeling of comfort and perfect contentment took possession of me, such as I knew not while fretting at Unyanyembe, wearing my life away in inactivity. I talked with my people as to my friends and equals. We argued with each other about our prospects in quite a companionable, sociable vein. When daylight was dying, and the sun was sinking down rapidly over the western horizon, vividly painting the sky with the colours of gold and silver, saffron, and opal, when its rays and gorgeous tints were reflected upon the tops of the everlasting forest, with the quiet and holy calm of heaven resting upon all around, and infusing even into the untutored minds of those about me the exquisite enjoyments of such a life as we were now leading in the depths of a great expanse of forest, the only and sole human occupants of it--this was the time, after our day's work was ended, and the camp was in a state of perfect security, when we all would produce our pipes, and could best enjoy the labors which we had performed, and the contentment which follows a work well done. Outside nothing is heard beyond the cry of a stray florican, or guinea-fowl, which has lost her mate, or the hoarse croaking of the frogs in the pool hard by, or the song of the crickets which seems to lull the day to rest; inside our camp are heard the gurgles of the gourd pipes as the men inhale the blue ether, which I also love. I am contented and happy, stretched on my carpet under the dome of living foliage, smoking my short meerschaum, indulging in thoughts--despite the beauty of the still grey light of the sky; and of the air of serenity which prevails around--of home and friends in distant America, and these thoughts soon change to my work--yet incomplete--to the man who to me is yet a myth, who, for all I know, may be dead, or may be near or far from me tramping through just such a forest, whose tops I see bound the view outside my camp. We are both on the same soil, perhaps in the same forest--who knows?--yet is he to me so far removed that he might as well be in his own little cottage of Ulva. Though I am even now ignorant of his very existence, yet I feel a certain complacency, a certain satisfaction which would be difficult to describe. Why is man so feeble, and weak, that he must tramp, tramp hundreds of miles to satisfy the doubts his impatient and uncurbed mind feels? Why cannot my form accompany the bold flights of my mind and satisfy the craving I feel to resolve the vexed question that ever rises to my lips--"Is he alive?" O soul of mine, be patient, thou hast a felicitous tranquillity, which other men might envy thee! Sufficient for the hour is the consciousness thou hast that thy mission is a holy one! Onward, and be hopeful! Monday, the 2nd of October, found us traversing the forest and plain that extends from the Ziwani to Manyara, which occupied us six and a half hours. The sun was intensely hot; but the mtundu and miombo trees grew at intervals, just enough to admit free growth to each tree, while the blended foliage formed a grateful shade. The path was clear and easy, the tamped and firm red soil offered no obstructions. The only provocation we suffered was from the attacks of the tsetse, or panga (sword) fly, which swarmed here. We knew we were approaching an extensive habitat of game, and we were constantly on the alert for any specimens that might be inhabiting these forests. While we were striding onward, at the rate of nearly three miles an hour, the caravan I perceived sheered off from the road, resuming it about fifty yards ahead of something on the road, to which the attention of the men was directed. On coming up, I found the object to be the dead body of a man, who had fallen a victim to that fearful scourge of Africa, the small-pox. He was one of Oseto's gang of marauders, or guerillas, in the service of Mkasiwa of Unyanyembe, who were hunting these forests for the guerillas of Mirambo. They had been returning from Ukonongo from a raid they had instituted against the Sultan of Mbogo, and they had left their comrade to perish in the road. He had apparently been only one day dead. Apropos of this, it was a frequent thing with us to discover a skeleton or a skull on the roadside. Almost every day we saw one, sometimes two, of these relics of dead, and forgotten humanity. Shortly after this we emerged from the forest, and entered a mbuga, or plain, in which we saw a couple of giraffes, whose long necks were seen towering above a bush they had been nibbling at. This sight was greeted with a shout; for we now knew we had entered the game country, and that near the Gombe creek, or river, where we intended to halt, we should see plenty of these animals. A walk of three hours over this hot plain brought us to the cultivated fields of Manyara. Arriving before the village-gate, we were forbidden to enter, as the country was throughout in a state of war, and it behoved them to be very careful of admitting any party, lest the villagers might be compromised. We were, however, directed to a khambi to the right of the village, near some pools of clear water, where we discovered some half dozen ruined huts, which looked very uncomfortable to tired people. After we had built our camp, the kirangozi was furnished with some cloths to purchase food from the village for the transit of a wilderness in front of us, which was said to extend nine marches, or 135 miles. He was informed that the Mtemi had strictly prohibited his people from selling any grain whatever. This evidently was a case wherein the exercise of a little diplomacy could only be effective; because it would detain us several days here, if we were compelled to send men back to Kikuru for provisions. Opening a bale of choice goods, I selected two royal cloths, and told Bombay to carry them to him, with the compliments and friendship of the white man. The Sultan sulkily refused them, and bade him return to the white man and tell him not to bother him. Entreaties were of no avail, he would not relent; and the men, in exceedingly bad temper, and hungry, were obliged to go to bed supperless. The words of Njara, a slave-trader, and parasite of the great Sheikh bin Nasib, recurred to me. "Ah, master, master, you will find the people will be too much for you, and that you will have to return. The Wa-manyara are bad, the Wakonongo are very bad, the Wazavira are the worst of all. You have come to this country at a bad time. It is war everywhere." And, indeed, judging from the tenor of the conversations around our camp-fires, it seemed but too evident. There was every prospect of a general decamp of all my people. However, I told them not to be discouraged; that I would get food for them in the morning. The bale of choice cloths was opened again next morning, and four royal cloths were this time selected, and two dotis of Merikani, and Bombay was again despatched, burdened with compliments, and polite words. It was necessary to be very politic with a man who was so surly, and too powerful to make an enemy of. What if he made up his mind to imitate the redoubtable Mirambo, King of Uyoweh! The effect of my munificent liberality was soon seen in the abundance of provender which came to my camp. Before an hour went by, there came boxes full of choroko, beans, rice, matama or dourra, and Indian corn, carried on the heads of a dozen villagers, and shortly after the Mtemi himself came, followed by about thirty musketeers and twenty spearmen, to visit the first white man ever seen on this road. Behind these warriors came a liberal gift, fully equal in value to that sent to him, of several large gourds of honey, fowls, goats, and enough vetches and beans to supply my men with four days' food. I met the chief at the gate of my camp, and bowing profoundly, invited him to my tent, which I had arranged as well as my circumstances would permit, for this reception. My Persian carpet and bear skin were spread out, and a broad piece of bran-new crimson cloth covered my kitanda, or bedstead. The chief, a tall robust man, and his chieftains, were invited to seat themselves. They cast a look of such gratified surprise at myself, at my face, my clothes, and guns, as is almost impossible to describe. They looked at me intently for a few seconds, and then at each other, which ended in an uncontrollable burst of laughter, and repeated snappings of the fingers. They spoke the Kinyamwezi language, and my interpreter Maganga was requested to inform the chief of the great delight I felt in seeing them. After a short period expended in interchanging compliments, and a competitive excellence at laughing at one another, their chief desired me to show him my guns. The "sixteen-shooter," the Winchester rifle, elicited a thousand flattering observations from the excited man; and the tiny deadly revolvers, whose beauty and workmanship they thought were superhuman, evoked such gratified eloquence that I was fain to try something else. The double-barrelled guns fired with heavy charges of power, caused them to jump up in affected alarm, and then to subside into their seats convulsed with laughter. As the enthusiasm of my guests increased, they seized each other's index fingers, screwed them, and pulled at them until I feared they would end in their dislocation. After having explained to them the difference between white men and Arabs, I pulled out my medicine chest, which evoked another burst of rapturous sighs at the cunning neatness of the array of vials. He asked what they meant. "Dowa," I replied sententiously, a word which may be interpreted--medicine. "Oh-h, oh-h," they murmured admiringly. I succeeded, before long, in winning unqualified admiration, and my superiority, compared to the best of the Arabs they had seen, was but too evident. "Dowa, dowa," they added. "Here," said I, uncorking a vial of medicinal brandy, "is the Kisungu pombe" (white man's beer); "take a spoonful and try it," at the same time handing it. "Hacht, hacht, oh, hacht! what! eh! what strong beer the white men have! Oh, how my throat burns!" "Ah, but it is good," said I, "a little of it makes men feel strong, and good; but too much of it makes men bad, and they die." "Let me have some," said one of the chiefs; "and me," "and me," "and me," as soon as each had tasted. "I next produced a bottle of concentrated ammonia, which as I explained was for snake bites, and head-aches; the Sultan immediately complained he had a head-ache, and must have a little. Telling him to close his eyes, I suddenly uncorked the bottle, and presented it to His Majesty's nose. The effect was magical, for he fell back as if shot, and such contortions as his features underwent are indescribable. His chiefs roared with laughter, and clapped their hands, pinched each other, snapped their fingers, and committed many other ludicrous things. I verily believe if such a scene were presented on any stage in the world the effect of it would be visible instantaneously on the audience; that had they seen it as I saw it, they would have laughed themselves to hysteria and madness. Finally the Sultan recovered himself, great tears rolling down his cheeks, and his features quivering with laughter, then he slowly uttered the word 'kali,'--hot, strong, quick, or ardent medicine. He required no more, but the other chiefs pushed forward to get one wee sniff, which they no sooner had, than all went into paroxysms of uncontrollable laughter. The entire morning was passed in this state visit, to the mutual satisfaction of all concerned. 'Oh,' said the Sultan at parting, 'these white men know everything, the Arabs are dirt compared to them!'" That night Hamdallah, one of the guides, deserted, carrying with him his hire (27 doti), and a gun. It was useless to follow him in the morning, as it would have detained me many more days than I could afford; but I mentally vowed that Mr. Hamdallah should work out those 27 doti of cloths before I reached the coast. Wednesday, October 4th, saw us travelling to the Gombe River, which is 4 h. 15 m. march from Manyara. We had barely left the waving cornfields of my friend Ma-manyara before we came in sight of a herd of noble zebra; two hours afterwards we had entered a grand and noble expanse of park land, whose glorious magnificence and vastness of prospect, with a far-stretching carpet of verdure darkly flecked here and there by miniature clumps of jungle, with spreading trees growing here and there, was certainly one of the finest scenes to be seen in Africa. Added to which, as I surmounted one of the numerous small knolls, I saw herds after herds of buffalo and zebra, giraffe and antelope, which sent the blood coursing through my veins in the excitement of the moment, as when I first landed on African soil. We crept along the plain noiselessly to our camp on the banks of the sluggish waters of the Gombe. Here at last was the hunter's Paradise! How petty and insignificant appeared my hunts after small antelope and wild boar what a foolish waste of energies those long walks through damp grasses and through thorny jungles! Did I not well remember ' my first bitter experience in African jungles when in the maritime region! But this--where is the nobleman's park that can match this scene? Here is a soft, velvety expanse of young grass, grateful shade under those spreading clumps; herds of large and varied game browsing within easy rifle range. Surely I must feel amply compensated now for the long southern detour I have made, when such a prospect as this opens to the view! No thorny jungles and rank smelling swamps are here to daunt the hunter, and to sicken his aspirations after true sport! No hunter could aspire after a nobler field to display his prowess. Having settled the position of the camp, which overlooked one of the pools found in the depression of the Gombe creek, I took my double-barrelled smooth-bore, and sauntered off to the park-land. Emerging from behind a clump, three fine plump spring-bok were seen browsing on the young grass just within one hundred yards. I knelt down and fired; one unfortunate antelope bounded upward instinctively, and fell dead. Its companions sprang high into the air, taking leaps about twelve feet in length, as if they were quadrupeds practising gymnastics, and away they vanished, rising up like India-rubber balls; until a knoll hid them from view. My success was hailed with loud shouts by the soldiers; who came running out from the camp as soon as they heard the reverberation of the gun, and my gun-bearer had his knife at the beast's throat, uttering a fervent "Bismillah!" as he almost severed the head from the body. Hunters were now directed to proceed east and north to procure meat, because in each caravan it generally happens that there are fundi, whose special trade it is to hunt for meat for the camp. Some of these are experts in stalking, but often find themselves in dangerous positions, owing to the near approach necessary, before they can fire their most inaccurate weapons with any certainty. After luncheon, consisting of spring-bok steak, hot corn-cake, and a cup of delicious Mocha coffee, I strolled towards the south-west, accompanied by Kalulu and Majwara, two boy gun-bearers. The tiny perpusilla started up like rabbits from me as I stole along through the underbrush; the honey-bird hopped from tree to tree chirping its call, as if it thought I was seeking the little sweet treasure, the hiding-place of which it only knew; but no! I neither desired perpusilla nor the honey. I was on the search for something great this day. Keen-eyed fish-eagles and bustards poised on trees above the sinuous Gombe thought, and probably with good reason that I was after them; judging by the ready flight with which both species disappeared as they sighted my approach. Ah, no! nothing but hartebeest, zebra, giraffe, eland, and buffalo this day! After following the Gombe's course for about a mile, delighting my eyes with long looks at the broad and lengthy reaches of water to which I was so long a stranger, I came upon a scene which delighted the innermost recesses of my soul; five, six, seven, eight, ten zebras switching their beautiful striped bodies, and biting one another, within about one hundred and fifty yards. The scene was so pretty, so romantic, never did I so thoroughly realize that I was in Central Africa. I felt momentarily proud that I owned such a vast domain, inhabited with such noble beasts. Here I possessed, within reach of a leaden ball, any one I chose of the beautiful animals, the pride of the African forests! It was at my option to shoot any of them! Mine they were without money or without price; yet, knowing this, twice I dropped my rifle, loth to wound the royal beasts, but--crack! and a royal one was on his back battling the air with his legs. Ah, it was such a pity! but, hasten, draw the keen sharp-edged knife across the beautiful stripes which fold around the throat; and--what an ugly gash! it is done, and 1 have a superb animal at my feet. Hurrah! I shall taste of Ukonongo zebra to-night. I thought a spring-bok and zebra enough for one day's sport, especially after a long march. The Gombe, a long stretch of deep water, winding in and out of green groves, calm, placid, with lotus leaves lightly resting on its surface, all pretty, picturesque, peaceful as a summer's dream, looked very inviting for a bath. I sought out the most shady spot under a wide-spreading mimosa, from which the ground sloped smooth as a lawn, to the still, clear water. I ventured to undress, and had already stepped in to my ancles in the water, and had brought my hands together for a glorious dive, when my attention was attracted by an enormously long body which shot into view, occupying the spot beneath the surface that I was about to explore by a "header." Great heavens, it was a crocodile! I sprang backward instinctively, and this proved my salvation, for the monster turned away with the most disappointed look, and I was left to congratulate myself upon my narrow escape from his jaws, and to register a vow never to be tempted again by the treacherous calm of an African river. As soon as I had dressed I turned away from the now repulsive aspect of the stream. In strolling through the jungle, towards my camp, I detected the forms of two natives looking sharply about them, and, after bidding my young attendants to preserve perfect quiet, I crept on towards them, and, by the aid of a thick clump of underbush, managed to arrive within a few feet of the natives undetected. Their mere presence in the immense forest, unexplained, was a cause of uneasiness in the then disturbed state of the country, and my intention was to show myself suddenly to them, and note its effect, which, if it betokened anything hostile to the Expedition, could without difficulty be settled at once, with the aid of my double-barrelled smooth-bore. As I arrived on one side of this bush, the two suspicious-looking natives arrived on the other side, and we were separated by only a few feet. I made a bound, and we were face to face. The natives cast a glance at the sudden figure of a white man, and seemed petrified for a moment, but then, recovering themselves, they shrieked out, "Bana, bana, you don't know us. We are Wakonongo, who came to your camp to accompany you to Mrera, and we are looking for honey." "Oh, to be sure, you are the Wakonongo. Yes--Yes. Ah, it is all right now, I thought you might be Ruga-Ruga." So the two parties, instead of being on hostile terms with each other, burst out laughing. The Wakonongo enjoyed it very much, and laughed heartily as they proceeded on their way to search for the wild honey. On a piece of bark they carried a little fire with which they smoked the bees out from their nest in the great mtundu-trees. The adventures of the day were over; the azure of the sky had changed to a dead grey; the moon was appearing just over the trees; the water of the Gombe was like a silver belt; hoarse frogs bellowed their notes loudly by the margin of the creek; the fish-eagles uttered their dirge-like cries as they were perched high on the tallest tree; elands snorted their warning to the herds in the forest; stealthy forms of the carnivora stole through the dark woods outside of our camp. Within the high inclosure of bush and thorn, which we had raised around our camp, all was jollity, laughter, and radiant, genial comfort. Around every camp-fire dark forms of men were seen squatted: one man gnawed at a luscious bone; another sucked the rich marrow in a zebra's leg-bone; another turned the stick, garnished with huge kabobs, to the bright blaze; another held a large rib over a flame; there were others busy stirring industriously great black potfuls of ugali, and watching anxiously the meat simmering, and the soup bubbling, while the fire-light flickered and danced bravely, and cast a bright glow over the naked forms of the men, and gave a crimson tinge to the tall tent that rose in the centre of the camp, like a temple sacred to some mysterious god; the fires cast their reflections upon the massive arms of the trees, as they branched over our camp, and, in the dark gloom of their foliage, the most fantastic shadows were visible. Altogether it was a wild, romantic, and impressive scene. But little recked my men for shadows and moonlight, for crimson tints, and temple-like tents--they were all busy relating their various experiences, and gorging themselves with the rich meats our guns had obtained for us. One was telling how he had stalked a wild boar, and the furious onset the wounded animal made on him, causing him to drop his gun, and climb a tree, and the terrible grunt of the beast he well remembered, and the whole welkin rang with the peals of laughter which his mimic powers evoked. Another had shot a buffalo-calf, and another had bagged a hartebeest; the Wakonongo related their laughable rencontre with me in the woods, and were lavish in their description of the stores of honey to be found in the woods; and all this time Selim and his youthful subs were trying their sharp teeth on the meat of a young pig which one of the hunters had shot, but which nobody else would eat, because of the Mohammedan aversion to pig, which they had acquired during their transformation from negro savagery to the useful docility of the Zanzibar freed-man. We halted the two following days, and made frequent raids on the herds of this fine country. The first day I was fairly successful again in the sport. I bagged a couple of antelopes, a kudu (A. strepsiceros) with fine twisting horns, and a pallah-buck (A. melampus), a reddish-brown animal, standing about three and a half feet, with broad posteriors. I might have succeeded in getting dozens of animals had I any of those accurate, heavy rifles manufactured by Lancaster, Reilly, or Blissett, whose every shot tells. But my weapons, save my light smoothbore, were unfit for African game. My weapons were more for men. With the Winchester rifle, and the Starr's carbine, I was able to hit anything within two hundred yards, but the animals, though wounded, invariably managed to escape the knife, until I was disgusted with the pea-bullets. What is wanted for this country is a heavy bore--No. 10 or 12 is the real bone-crusher--that will drop every animal shot in its tracks, by which all fatigue and disappointment are avoided. Several times during these two days was I disappointed after most laborious stalking and creeping along the ground. Once I came suddenly upon an eland while I had a Winchester rifle in my hand--the eland and myself mutually astonished--at not more than twenty-five yards apart. I fired at its chest, and bullet, true to its aim, sped far into the internal parts, and the blood spouted from the wound: in a few minutes he was far away, and I was too much disappointed to follow him. All love of the chase seemed to be dying away before these several mishaps. What were two antelopes for one day's sport to the thousands that browsed over the plain? The animals taken to camp during our three days' sport were two buffaloes, two wild boar, three hartebeest, one zebra, and one pallah; besides which, were shot eight guinea-fowls, three florican, two fish-eagles, one pelican, and one of the men caught a couple of large silurus fish. In the meantime the people had cut, sliced, and dried this bounteous store of meat for our transit through the long wilderness before us. Saturday the 7th day of October, we broke up camp, to the great regret of the meat-loving, gormandizing Wangwana. They delegated Bombay early in the morning to speak to me, and entreat of me to stop one day longer. It was ever the case; they had always an unconquerable aversion to work, when in presence of meat. Bombay was well scolded for bearing any such request to me after two days' rest, during which time they had been filled to repletion with meat. And Bombay was by no means in the best of humour; flesh-pots full of meat were more to his taste than a constant tramping, and its consequent fatigues. I saw his face settle into sulky ugliness, and his great nether lip hanging down limp, which meant as if expressed in so many words, "Well, get them to move yourself, you wicked hard man! I shall not help you." An ominous silence followed my order to the kirangozi to sound the horn, and the usual singing and chanting were not heard. The men turned sullenly to their bales, and Asmani, the gigantic guide, our fundi, was heard grumblingly to say he was sorry he had engaged to guide me to the Tanganika. However, they started, though reluctantly. I stayed behind with my gunbearers, to drive the stragglers on. In about half an hour I sighted the caravan at a dead stop, with the bales thrown on the ground, and the men standing in groups conversing angrily and excitedly. Taking my double-barrelled gun from Selim's shoulder, I selected a dozen charges of buck-shot, and slipping two of them into the barrels, and adjusting my revolvers in order for handy work, I walked on towards them. I noticed that the men seized their guns, as I advanced. When within thirty yards of the groups, I discovered the heads of two men appear above an anthill on my left, with the barrels of their guns carelessly pointed toward the road. I halted, threw the barrel of my gun into the hollow of the left hand, and then, taking a deliberate aim at them, threatened to blow their heads off if they did not come forward to talk to me. These two men were, gigantic Asmani and his sworn companion Mabruki, the guides of Sheikh bin Nasib. As it was dangerous not to comply with such an order, they presently came, but, keeping my eye on Asmani, I saw him move his fingers to the trigger of his gun, and bring his gun to a "ready." Again I lifted my gun, and threatened him with instant death, if he did not drop his gun. Asmani came on in a sidelong way with a smirking smile on his face, but in his eyes shone the lurid light of murder, as plainly as ever it shone in a villain's eyes. Mabruki sneaked to my rear, deliberately putting powder in the pan of his musket, but sweeping the gun sharply round, I planted the muzzle of it at about two feet from his wicked-looking face, and ordered him to drop his gun instantly. He let it fall from his hand quickly, and giving him a vigorous poke in the breast with my gun, which sent him reeling away a few feet from me, I faced round to Asmani, and ordered him to put his gun down, accompanying it with a nervous movement of my gun, pressing gently on the trigger at the same time. Never was a man nearer his death than was Asmani during those few moments. I was reluctant to shed his blood, and I was willing to try all possible means to avoid doing so; but if I did not succeed in cowing this ruffian, authority was at an end. The truth was, they feared to proceed further on the road, and the only possible way of inducing them to move was by an overpowering force, and exercise of my power and will in this instance, even though he might pay the penalty of his disobedience with death. As I was beginning to feel that Asmani had passed his last moment on earth, as he was lifting his gun to his shoulder, a form came up from behind him, and swept his gun aside with an impatient, nervous movement, and I heard Mabruki Burton say in horror-struck accents: "Man, how dare you point your gun, at the master?" Mabruki then threw himself at my feet, and endeavoured to kiss them and entreated me not to punish him. "It was all over now," he said; "there would be no more quarreling, they would all go as far as the Tanganika, without any more noise; and Inshallah!" said he, "we shall find the old Musungu * at Ujiji." *Livingstone "Speak, men, freedmen, shall we not?--shall we not go to the Tanganika without any more trouble? tell the master with one voice." "Ay Wallah! Ay Wallah! Bana yango! Hamuna manneno mgini!" which literally translated means, "Yes by God! Yes by God! my master! There are no other words," said each man loudly. "Ask the master's pardon, man, or go thy way," said Mabruki peremptorily, to Asmani: which Asmani did, to the gratification of us all. It remained for me only to extend a general pardon to all except to Bombay and Ambari, the instigators of the mutiny, which was now happily quelled. For Bombay could have by a word, as my captain, nipped all manifestation of bad temper at the outset, had he been so disposed. But no, Bombay was more averse to marching than the cowardliest of his fellows, not because he was cowardly, but because he loved indolence. Again the word was given to march, and each man, with astonishing alacrity, seized his load, and filed off quickly out of sight. While on this subject, I may as well give here a sketch of each of the principal men whose names must often appear in the following chapters. According to rank, they consist of Bombay, Mabruki Burton, Asmani the guide, Chowpereh, Ulimengo, Khamisi, Ambari, Jumah, Ferajji the cook, Maganga the Mnyamwezi, Selim the Arab boy, and youthful Kalulu a gunbearer. Bombay has received an excellent character from Burton and Speke. "Incarnation of honesty" Burton grandly terms him. The truth is, Bombay was neither very honest nor very dishonest, i.e., he did not venture to steal much. He sometimes contrived cunningly, as he distributed the meat, to hide a very large share for his own use. This peccadillo of his did not disturb me much; he deserved as captain a larger share than the others. He required to be closely watched, and when aware that this was the case, he seldom ventured to appropriate more cloth than I would have freely given him, had he asked for it. As a personal servant, or valet, he would have been unexceptionable, but as a captain or jemadar over his fellows, he was out of his proper sphere. It was too much brain-work, and was too productive of anxiety to keep him in order. At times he was helplessly imbecile in his movements, forgot every order the moment it was given him, consistently broke or lost some valuable article, was fond of argument, and addicted to bluster. He thinks Hajji Abdullah one of the wickedest white men born, because he saw him pick up men's skulls and put them in sacks, as if he was about to prepare a horrible medicine with them. He wanted to know whether his former master had written down all he himself did, and when told that Burton had not said anything, in his books upon the Lake Regions, upon collecting skulls at Kilwa, thought I would be doing a good work if I published this important fact. * Bombay intends to make a pilgrimage to visit Speke's grave some day. ** I find upon returning to England, that Capt. Burton has informed the world of this "wicked and abominable deed," in his book upon Zanzibar, and that the interesting collection may be seen at the Royal College of Surgeons, London. Mabruki, "Ras-bukra Mabruki," Bull-headed Mabruki, as Burton calls him, is a sadly abused man in my opinion. Mabruki, though stupid, is faithful. He is entirely out of his element as valet, he might as well be clerk. As a watchman he is invaluable, as a second captain or fundi, whose duty it is to bring up stragglers, he is superexcellent. He is ugly and vain, but he is no coward. Asmani the guide is a large fellow, standing over six feet, with the neck and shoulders of a Hercules. Besides being guide, he is a fundi, sometimes called Fundi Asmani, or hunter. A very superstitious man, who takes great care of his gun, and talismanic plaited cord, which he has dipped in the blood of all the animals he has ever shot. He is afraid of lions, and will never venture out where lions are known to be. All other animals he regards as game, and is indefatigable in their pursuit. He is seldom seen without an apologetic or a treacherous smile on his face. He could draw a knife across a man's throat and still smile. Chowpereh is a sturdy short man of thirty or thereabouts; very good-natured, and humorous. When Chowpereh speaks in his dry Mark Twain style, the whole camp laughs. I never quarrel with Chowpereh, never did quarrel with him. A kind word given to Chowpereh is sure to be reciprocated with a good deed. He is the strongest, the healthiest, the amiablest, the faithfulest of all. He is the embodiment of a good follower. Khamisi is a neat, cleanly boy of twenty, or thereabouts, active, loud-voiced, a boaster, and the cowardliest of the cowardly. He will steal at every opportunity. He clings to his gun most affectionately; is always excessively anxious if a screw gets loose, or if a flint will not strike fire, yet I doubt that he would be able to fire his gun at an enemy from excessive trembling. Khamisi would rather trust his safety to his feet, which are small, and well shaped. Ambari is a man of about forty. He is one of the "Faithfuls" of Speke, and one of my Faithfuls. He would not run away from me except when in the presence of an enemy, and imminent personal danger. He is clever in his way, but is not sufficiently clever to enact the part of captain--could take charge of a small party, and give a very good account of them. Is lazy, and an admirer of good living--abhors marching, unless he has nothing to carry but his gun. Jumah is the best abused man of the party, because he has old-womanish ways with him, yet in his old-womanish ways he is disposed to do the best he can for me, though he will not carry a pound in weight without groaning terribly at his hard fate. To me he is sentimental and pathetic; to the unimportant members of the caravan he is stern and uncompromising. But the truth is, that I could well dispense with Jumah's presence: he was one of the incorrigible inutiles, eating far more than he was worth; besides being an excessively grumbling and querulous fool. Ulimengo, a strong stalwart fellow of thirty, was the maddest and most hare-brained of my party. Though an arrant coward, he was a consummate boaster. But though a devotee of pleasure and fun, he was not averse from work. With one hundred men such as he, I could travel through Africa provided there was no fighting to do. It will be remembered that he was the martial coryphaeus who led my little army to war against Mirambo, chanting the battle-song of the Wangwana; and that I stated, that when the retreat was determined upon, he was the first of my party to reach the stronghold of Mfuto. He is a swift runner, and a fair hunter. I have been indebted to him on several occasions for a welcome addition to my larder. Ferajji, a former dish-washer to Speke, was my cook. He was promoted to this office upon the defection of Bunder Salaam, and the extreme non-fitness of Abdul Kader. For cleaning dishes, the first corn-cob, green twig, a bunch of leaves or grass, answered Ferajji's purposes in the absence of a cloth. If I ordered a plate, and I pointed out a black, greasy, sooty thumbmark to him, a rub of a finger Ferajji thought sufficient to remove all objections. If I hinted that a spoon was rather dirty, Ferajji fancied that with a little saliva, and a rub of his loin cloth, the most fastidious ought to be satisfied. Every pound of meat, and every three spoonfuls of musk or porridge I ate in Africa, contained at least ten grains of sand. Ferajji was considerably exercised at a threat I made to him that on arrival at Zanzibar, I would get the great English doctor there to open my stomach, and count every grain of sand found in it, for each grain of which Ferajji should be charged one dollar. The consciousness that my stomach must contain a large number, for which the forfeits would be heavy, made him feel very sad at times. Otherwise, Ferajji was a good cook, most industrious, if not accomplished. He could produce a cup of tea, and three or four hot pancakes, within ten minutes after a halt was ordered, for which I was most grateful, as I was almost always hungry after a long march. Ferajji sided with Baraka against Bombay in Unyoro, and when Speke took Bombay's side of the question, Ferajji, out of love for Baraka, left Speke's service, and so forfeited his pay. Maganga was a Mnyamwezi, a native of Mkwenkwe, a strong, faithful servant, an excellent pagazi, with an irreproachable temper. He it was who at all times, on the march, started the wildly exuberant song of the Wanyamwezi porters, which, no matter how hot the sun, or how long the march, was sure to produce gaiety and animation among the people. At such times all hands sang, sang with voices that could be heard miles away, which made the great forests ring with the sounds, which startled every animal big or little, for miles around. On approaching a village the temper of whose people might be hostile to us, Maganga would commence his song, with the entire party joining in the chorus, by which mode we knew whether the natives were disposed to be friendly or hostile. If hostile, or timid, the gates would at once be closed, and dark faces would scowl at us from the interior; if friendly, they rushed outside of their gates to welcome us, or to exchange friendly remarks. An important member of the Expedition was Selim, the young Arab. Without some one who spoke good Arabic, I could not have obtained the friendship of the chief Arabs in Unyanyembe; neither could I have well communicated with them, for though I understood Arabic, I could not speak it. I have already related how Kalulu came to be in my service, and how he came to bear his present name. I soon found how apt and quick he was to learn, in consequence of which, he was promoted to the rank of personal attendant. Even Selim could not vie with Kalulu in promptness and celerity, or in guessing my wants at the table. His little black eyes were constantly roving over the dishes, studying out the problem of what was further necessary, or had become unnecessary. We arrived at the Ziwani, in about 4 h. 30 m. from the time of our quitting the scene which had well-nigh witnessed a sanguinary conflict. The Ziwani, or pool, contained no water, not a drop, until the parched tongues of my people warned them that they must proceed and excavate for water. This excavation was performed (by means of strong hard sticks sharply pointed) in the dry hard-caked bottom. After digging to a depth of six feet their labours were rewarded with the sight of a few drops of muddy liquid percolating through the sides, which were eagerly swallowed to relieve their raging thirst. Some voluntarily started with buckets, gourds, and canteens south to a deserted clearing called the "Tongoni" in Ukamba, and in about three hours returned with a plentiful supply for immediate use, of good and clear water. In 1 h. 30 m. we arrived at this Tongoni, or deserted clearing of the Wakamba. Here were three or four villages burnt, and an extensive clearing desolate, the work of the Wa-Ruga-Raga of Mirambo. Those of the inhabitants who were left, after the spoliation and complete destruction of the flourishing settlement, emigrated westerly to Ugara. A large herd of buffalo now slake their thirst at the pool which supplied the villages of Ukamba with water. Great masses of iron haematite cropped up above the surfaces in these forests. Wild fruit began to be abundant; the wood-apple and tamarind and a small plum-like fruit, furnished us with many an agreeable repast. The honey-bird is very frequent in these forests of Ukonongo. Its cry is a loud, quick chirrup. The Wakonongo understand how to avail themselves of its guidance to the sweet treasure of honey which the wild bees have stored in the cleft of some great tree. Daily, the Wakonongo who had joined our caravan brought me immense cakes of honey-comb, containing delicious white and red honey. The red honey-comb generally contains large numbers of dead bees, but our exceedingly gluttonous people thought little of these. They not only ate the honey-bees, but they also ate a good deal of the wax. As soon as the honey-bird descries the traveller, he immediately utters a series of wild, excited cries, hops about from twig to twig, and from branch to branch, then hops to another tree, incessantly repeating his chirruping call. The native, understanding the nature of the little bird, unhesitatingly follows him; but perhaps his steps are too slow for the impatient caller, upon which he flies back, urging him louder, more impatient cries, to hasten, and then darts swiftly forward, as if he would show how quickly he could go to the honey-store, until at last the treasure is reached, the native has applied fire to the bees' nest, and secured the honey, while the little bird preens himself, and chirrups in triumphant notes, as if he were informing the biped that without his aid he never could have found the honey. Buffalo gnats and tsetse were very troublesome on this march, owing to the numerous herds of game in the vicinity. On the 9th of October we made a long march in a southerly direction, and formed our camp in the centre of a splendid grove of trees. The water was very scarce on the road. The Wamrima and Wanyamwezi are not long able to withstand thirst. When water is plentiful they slake their thirst at every stream and pool; when it is scarce, as it is here and in the deserts of Marenga and Magunda Mkali, long afternoon-marches are made; the men previously, however, filling their gourds, so as to enable them to reach the water early next morning. Selim was never able to endure thirst. It mattered not how much of the precious liquid he carried, he generally drank it all before reaching camp, and he consequently suffered during the night. Besides this, he endangered his life by quaffing from every muddy pool; and on this day he began to complain that he discharged blood, which I took to be an incipient stage of dysentery. During these marches, ever since quitting Ugunda, a favourite topic at the camp-fires were the Wa-Ruga-Ruga, and their atrocities, and a possible encounter that we might have with these bold rovers of the forest. I verily believe that a sudden onset of half a dozen of Mirambo's people would have set the whole caravan arunning. We reached Marefu the next day, after a short three hours' march. We there found an embassy sent by the Arabs of Unyanyembe, to the Southern Watuta, bearing presents of several bales, in charge of Hassan the Mseguhha. This valiant leader and diplomatist had halted here some ten days because of wars and rumours of wars in his front. It was said that Mbogo, Sultan of Mboga in Ukonongo, was at war with the brother of Manwa Sera, and as Mbogo was a large district of Ukonongo only two days' march from Marefu; fear of being involved in it was deterring old Hassan from proceeding. He advised me also not to proceed, as it was impossible to be able to do so without being embroiled in the conflict. I informed him that I intended to proceed on my way, and take my chances, and graciously offered him my escort as far as the frontier of Ufipa, from which he could easily and safely continue on his way to the Watuta, but he declined it. We had now been travelling fourteen days in a south-westerly direction, having made a little more than one degree of latitude. I had intended to have gone a little further south, because it was such a good road, also since by going further south we should have labored under no fear of meeting Mirambo; but the report of this war in our front, only two days off, compelled me, in the interest of the Expedition, to strike across towards the Tanganika, an a west-by-north course through the forest, travelling, when it was advantageous, along elephant tracks and local paths. This new plan was adopted after consulting with Asmani, the guide. We were now in Ukonongo, having entered this district when we crossed the Gombe creek. The next day after arriving at Marefu we plunged westward, in view of the villagers, and the Arab ambassador, who kept repeating until the last moment that we should "certainly catch it." We marched eight hours through a forest, where the forest peach, or the "mbembu," is abundant. The tree that bears this fruit is very like a pear-tree, and is very productive. I saw one tree, upon which I estimated there were at least six or seven bushels. I ate numbers of the peaches on this day. So long as this fruit can be produced, a traveller in these regions need not fear starvation. At the base of a graceful hilly cone we found a village called Utende, the inhabitants of which were in a state of great alarm, as we suddenly appeared on the ridge above them. Diplomacy urged me to send forward a present of one doti to the Sultan, who, however, would not accept it, because he happened to be drunk with pombe, and was therefore disposed to be insolent. Upon being informed that he would refuse any present, unless he received four more cloths, I immediately ordered a strong boma to be constructed on the summits of a little hill, near enough to a plentiful supply of water, and quietly again packed up the present in the bale. I occupied a strategically chosen position, as I could have swept the face of the hill, and the entire space between its base and the village of Watende. Watchmen were kept on the look-out all night; but we were fortunately not troubled until the morning; when a delegation of the principal men came to ask if I intended to depart without having made a present to the chief. I replied to them that I did not intend passing through any country without making friends with the chief; and if their chief would accept a good cloth from me, I would freely give it to him. Though they demurred at the amount of the present at first, the difference between us was finally ended by my adding a fundo of red beads--sami-sami--for the chief's wife. From the hill and ridge of Utende sloped a forest for miles and miles westerly, which was terminated by a grand and smooth-topped ridge rising 500 or 600 feet above the plain. A four hours' march, on the 12th of October, brought us to a nullah similar to the Gombe, which, during the wet season, flows to the Gombe River, and thence into the Malagarazi River. A little before camping we saw a herd of nimba, or pallah; I had the good fortune to shoot one, which was a welcome addition to our fast diminishing store of dried meats, prepared in our camp on the Gombe. By the quantity of bois de vaches, we judged buffaloes were plentiful here, as well as elephant and rhinoceros. The feathered species were well represented by ibis, fish-eagles, pelicans, storks, cranes, several snowy spoon-bills, and flamingoes. From the nullah, or mtoni, we proceeded to Mwaru, the principal village of the district of Mwaru, the chief of which is Ka-mirambo. Our march lay over desolated clearings once occupied by Ka-mirambo's people, but who were driven away by Mkasiwa some ten years ago, during his warfare against Manwa Sera. Niongo, the brother of the latter, now waging war against Mbogo, had passed through Mwaru the day before we arrived, after being defeated by his enemy. The hilly ridge that bounded the westward horizon, visible from Utende, was surmounted on this day. The western slope trends south-west, and is drained by the River Mrera, which empties into the Malagarazi River. We perceived the influence of the Tanganika, even here, though we were yet twelve or fifteen marches from the lake. The jungles increased in density, and the grasses became enormously tall; these points reminded us of the maritime districts of Ukwere and Ukami. We heard from a caravan at this place, just come from Ufipa, that a white man was reported to be in "Urua," whom I supposed to mean Livingstone. Upon leaving Mwaru we entered the district of Mrera, a chief who once possessed great power and influence over this region. Wars, however, have limited his possessions to three or four villages snugly embosomed within a jungle, whose outer rim is so dense that it serves like a stone wall to repel invaders. There were nine bleached skulls, stuck on the top of as many poles, before the principal gate of entrance, which told us of existing feuds between the Wakonongo and the Wazavira. This latter tribe dwelt in a country a few marches west of us; whose territory we should have to avoid, unless we sought another opportunity to distinguish ourselves in battle with the natives. The Wazavira, we were told by the Wakonongo of Mrera, were enemies to all Wangwana. In a narrow strip of marsh between Mwaru and Mrera, we saw a small herd of wild elephants. It was the first time I had ever seen these animals in their native wildness, and my first impressions of them I shall not readily forget. I am induced to think that the elephant deserves the title of "king of beasts." His huge form, the lordly way in which he stares at an intruder on his domain, and his whole appearance indicative of conscious might, afford good grounds for his claim to that title. This herd, as we passed it at the distance of a mile, stopped to survey the caravan as it passed: and, after having satisfied their curiosity, the elephants trooped into the forest which bounded the marshy plain southward, as if caravans were every-day things to them, whilst they--the free and unconquerable lords of the forest and the marsh--had nothing in common with the cowardly bipeds, who never found courage to face them in fair combat. The destruction which a herd makes in a forest is simply tremendous. When the trees are young whole swathes may be found uprooted and prostrate, which mark the track of the elephants as they "trampled their path through wood and brake." The boy Selim was so ill at this place that I was compelled to halt the caravan for him for two days. He seemed to be affected with a disease in the limbs, which caused him to sprawl, and tremble most painfully, besides suffering from an attack of acute dysentery. But constant attendance and care soon brought him round again; and on the third day he was able to endure the fatigue of riding. I was able to shoot several animals during our stay at Mrera. The forest outside of the cultivation teems with noble animals. Zebra, giraffe, elephant, and rhinoceros are most common; ptarmigan and guinea-fowl were also plentiful. The warriors of Mrera are almost all armed with muskets, of which they take great care. They were very importunate in their demands for flints, bullets, and powder, which I always made it a point to refuse, lest at any moment a fracas occurring they might use the ammunition thus supplied to my own disadvantage. The men of this village were an idle set, doing little but hunting, gaping, gossiping, and playing like great boys. During the interval of my stay at Mrera I employed a large portion of my time in mending my shoes, and patching up the great rents in my clothes, which the thorn species, during the late marches, had almost destroyed. Westward, beyond Mrera, was a wilderness, the transit of which we were warned would occupy nine days hence arose the necessity to purchase a large supply of grain, which, ere attempting the great uninhabited void in our front, was to be ground and sifted. CHAPTER XI. -- THROUGH UKAWENDI, UVINZA, AND UHHA, TO UJIJI. Happy auspices,--Ant-hills.--The water-shed of the Tanganika Lion.--The king of Kasera.--The home of the lion and the leopard.--A donkey frightens a leopard--Sublime scenes in Kawendi,--Starvation imminent.--Amenities of travel in Africa.--Black-mailers.--The stormy children of Uhha.--News of a white man.--Energetic marches--Mionvu, chief of tribute-takers.--An escape at midnight.--Toiling through the jungles.--The Lake Mountains.--First view of the Tanganika.-- Arrival at Ujiji,--The happy meeting with Livingstone. We bade farewell to Mrera on the 17th of October, to continue our route north-westward. All the men and I were firm friends now; all squabbling had long ceased. Bombay and I had forgotten our quarrel; the kirangozi and myself were ready to embrace, so loving and affectionate were the terms upon which we stood towards one another. Confidence returned to all hearts--for now, as Mabruk Unyanyembe said, "we could smell the fish of the Tanganika." Unyanyembe, with all its disquietude, was far behind. We could snap our fingers at that terrible Mirambo and his unscrupulous followers, and by-and-by, perhaps, we may be able to laugh at the timid seer who always prophesied portentous events--Sheikh, the son of Nasib. We laughed joyously, as we glided in Indian file through the young forest jungle beyond the clearing of Mrera, and boasted of our prowess. Oh! we were truly brave that morning! Emerging from the jungle, we entered a thin forest, where numerous ant-hills were seen like so many sand-dunes. I imagine that these ant-hills were formed during a remarkably wet season, when, possibly, the forest-clad plain was inundated. I have seen the ants at work by thousands, engaged in the work of erecting their hills in other districts suffering from inundation. What a wonderful system of cells these tiny insects construct! A perfect labyrinth--cell within cell, room within room, hall within hall--an exhibition of engineering talents and high architectural capacity--a model city, cunningly contrived for safety and comfort! Emerging after a short hour's march out of the forest, we welcome the sight of a murmuring translucent stream, swiftly flowing towards the north-west, which we regard with the pleasure which only men who have for a long time sickened themselves with that potable liquid of the foulest kind, found in salinas, mbugas, pools, and puddle holes, can realize. Beyond this stream rises a rugged and steep ridge, from the summit of which our eyes are gladdened with scenes that are romantic, animated and picturesque. They form an unusual feast to eyes sated with looking into the depths of forests, at towering stems of trees, and at tufted crowns of foliage. We have now before us scores of cones, dotting the surface of a plain which extends across Southern Ukonongo to the territory of the Wafipa, and which reaches as far as the Rikwa Plain. The immense prospect before which we are suddenly ushered is most varied; exclusive of conical hills and ambitious flat-topped and isolated mountains, we are in view of the watersheds of the Rungwa River, which empties into the Tanganika south of where we stand, and of the Malagarazi River, which the Tanganika receives, a degree or so north of this position. A single but lengthy latitudinal ridge serves as a dividing line to the watershed of the Rungwa and Malagarazi; and a score of miles or so further west of this ridge rises another, which runs north and south. We camped on this day in the jungle, close to a narrow ravine with a marshy bottom, through the oozy, miry contents of which the waters from the watershed of the Rungwa slowly trickled southward towards the Rikwa Plain. This was only one of many ravines, however, some of which were several hundred yards broad, others were but a few yards in width, the bottoms of which were most dangerous quagmires, overgrown with dense tall reeds and papyrus. Over the surface of these great depths of mud were seen hundreds of thin threads of slimy ochre-coloured water, which swarmed with animalculae. By-and-by, a few miles south of the base of this ridge (which I call Kasera, from the country which it cuts in halves), these several ravines converge and debouch into the broad, [marshy?], oozy, spongy "river" of Usense, which trends in a south-easterly direction; after which, gathering the contents of the watercourses from the north and northeast into its own broader channel, it soon becomes a stream of some breadth and consequence, and meets a river flowing from the east, from the direction of Urori, with which it conflows in the Rikwa Plain, and empties about sixty rectilineal miles further west into the Tanganika Lake. The Rungwa River, I am informed, is considered as a boundary line between the country of Usowa on the north, and Ufipa on the south. We had barely completed the construction of our camp defences when some of the men were heard challenging a small party of natives which advanced towards our camp, headed by a man who, from his garb and head-dress, we knew was from Zanzibar. After interchanging the customary salutations, I was informed that this party was an embassy from Simba ("Lion"), who ruled over Kasera, in Southern Unyamwezi. Simba, I was told, was the son of Mkasiwa, King of Unyanyembe, and was carrying on war with the Wazavira, of whom I was warned to beware. He had heard such reports of my greatness that he was sorry I did not take his road to Ukawendi, that he might have had the opportunity of seeing me, and making friends with me; but in the absence of a personal visit Simba had sent this embassy to overtake me, in the hope that I would present him with a token of my friendship in the shape of cloth. Though I was rather taken aback by the demand, still it was politic in me to make this powerful chief my friend, lest on my return from the search after Livingstone he and I might fall out. And since it was incumbent on me to make a present, for the sake of peace, it was necessary to exhibit my desire for peace by giving--if I gave at all--a royal present. The ambassador conveyed from me to Simba, or the "Lion" of Kasera, two gorgeous cloths, and two other doti consisting of Merikani and Kaniki; and, if I might believe the ambassador, I had made Simba a friend for ever. On the 18th of October, breaking camp at the usual hour, we continued our march north-westward by a road which zig-zagged along the base of the Kasera mountains, and which took us into all kinds of difficulties. We traversed at least a dozen marshy ravines, the depth of mire and water in which caused the utmost anxiety. I sunk up to my neck in deep holes in the Stygian ooze caused by elephants, and had to tramp through the oozy beds of the Rungwa sources with any clothes wet and black with mud and slime. Decency forbade that I should strip; and the hot sun would also blister my body. Moreover, these morasses were too frequent to lose time in undressing and dressing, and, as each man was weighted with his own proper load, it would have been cruel to compel the men to bear me across. Nothing remained, therefore, but to march on, all encumbered as I was with my clothing and accoutrements, into these several marshy watercourses, with all the philosophical stoicism that my nature could muster for such emergencies. But it was very uncomfortable, to say the least of it. We soon entered the territory of the dreaded Wazavira, but no enemy was in sight. Simba, in his wars, had made clean work of the northern part of Uzavira, and we encountered nothing worse than a view of the desolated country, which must have been once--judging from the number of burnt huts and debris of ruined villages--extremely populous. A young jungle was sprouting up vigorously in their fields, and was rapidly becoming the home of wild denizens of the forest. In one of the deserted and ruined villages, I found quarters for the Expedition, which were by no means uncomfortable. I shot three brace of guinea-fowl in the neighbourhood of Misonghi, the deserted village we occupied, and Ulimengo, one of my hunters, bagged an antelope, called the "mbawala," for whose meat some of the Wanyamwezi have a superstitious aversion. I take this species of antelope, which stands about three and a half feet high, of a reddish hide, head long, horns short, to be the "Nzoe" antelope discovered by Speke in Uganda, and whose Latin designation is, according to Dr. Sclater, "Tragelaphus Spekii." It has a short bushy tail, and long hair along the spine. A long march in a west-by-north direction, lasting six hours, through a forest where the sable antelope was seen, and which was otherwise prolific with game, brought us to a stream which ran by the base of a lofty conical hill, on whose slopes flourished quite a forest of feathery bamboo. On the 20th, leaving our camp, which lay between the stream and the conical hill above mentioned, and surmounting a low ridge which sloped from the base of the hill-cone, we were greeted with another picturesque view, of cones and scarped mountains, which heaved upward in all directions. A march of nearly five hours through this picturesque country brought us to the Mpokwa River, one of the tributaries of the Rungwa, and to a village lately deserted by the Wazavira. The huts were almost all intact, precisely as they were left by their former inhabitants. In the gardens were yet found vegetables, which, after living so long on meat, were most grateful to us. On the branches of trees still rested the Lares and Penates of the Wazavira, in the shape of large and exceedingly well-made earthen pots. In the neighbouring river one of my men succeeded, in few minutes, in catching sixty fish of the silurus species the hand alone. A number of birds hovered about stream, such as the white-headed fish-eagle and the kingfisher, enormous, snowy spoonbills, ibis, martins, &c. This river issued from a mountain clump eight miles or so north of the village of Mpokwa, and comes flowing down a narrow thread of water, sinuously winding amongst tall reeds and dense brakes on either side-the home of hundreds of antelopes and buffaloes. South of Mpokwa, the valley broadens, and the mountains deflect eastward and westward, and beyond this point commences the plain known as the Rikwa, which, during the Masika is inundated, but which, in the dry season, presents the same bleached aspect that plains in Africa generally do when the grass has ripened. Travelling up along the right bank of the Mpokwa, on the 21st we came to the head of the stream, and the sources of the Mpokwa, issuing out of deep defiles enclosed by lofty ranges. The mbawala and the buffalo were plentiful. On the 22nd, after a march of four hours and a half, we came to the beautiful stream of Mtambu--the water of which was sweet, and clear as crystal, and flowed northward. We saw for the first time the home of the lion and the leopard. Hear what Freiligrath says of the place: Where the thorny brake and thicket Densely fill the interspace Of the trees, through whose thick branches Never sunshine lights the place, There the lion dwells, a monarch, Mightiest among the brutes; There his right to reign supremest Never one his claim disputes. There he layeth down to slumber, Having slain and ta'en his fill; There he roameth, there be croucheth, As it suits his lordly will. We camped but a few yards from just such a place as the poet describes. The herd-keeper who attended the goats and donkeys, soon after our arrival in camp, drove the animals to water, and in order to obtain it they travelled through a tunnel in the brake, caused by elephants and rhinoceros. They had barely entered the dark cavernous passage, when a black-spotted leopard sprang, and fastened its fangs in the neck of one of the donkeys, causing it, from the pain, to bray hideously. Its companions set up such a frightful chorus, and so lashed their heels in the air at the feline marauder, that the leopard bounded away through the brake, as if in sheer dismay at the noisy cries which the attack had provoked. The donkey's neck exhibited some frightful wounds, but the animal was not dangerously hurt. Thinking that possibly I might meet with an adventure with a lion or a leopard in that dark belt of tall trees, under whose impenetrable shade grew the dense thicket that formed such admirable coverts for the carnivorous species, I took a stroll along the awesome place with the gunbearer, Kalulu, carrying an extra gun, and a further supply of ammunition. We crept cautiously along, looking keenly into the deep dark dens, the entrances of which were revealed to us, as we journeyed, expectant every moment to behold the reputed monarch of the brake and thicket, bound forward to meet us, and I took a special delight in picturing, in my imagination, the splendor and majesty of the wrathful brute, as he might stand before me. I peered closely into every dark opening, hoping to see the deadly glitter of the great angry eyes, and the glowering menacing front of the lion as he would regard me. But, alas! after an hour's search for adventure, I had encountered nothing, and I accordingly waxed courageous, and crept into one of these leafy, thorny caverns, and found myself shortly standing under a canopy of foliage that was held above my head fully a hundred feet by the shapely and towering stems of the royal mvule. Who can imagine the position? A smooth lawn-like glade; a dense and awful growth of impenetrable jungle around us; those stately natural pillars--a glorious phalanx of royal trees, bearing at such sublime heights vivid green masses of foliage, through which no single sun-ray penetrated, while at our feet babbled the primeval brook, over smooth pebbles, in soft tones befitting the sacred quiet of the scene! Who could have desecrated this solemn, holy harmony of nature? But just as I was thinking it impossible that any man could be tempted to disturb the serene solitude of the place, I saw a monkey perched high on a branch over my head, contemplating, with something of an awe-struck look, the strange intruders beneath. Well, I could not help it, I laughed--laughed loud and long, until I was hushed by the chaos of cries and strange noises which seemed to respond to my laughing. A troop of monkeys, hidden in the leafy depths above, had been rudely awakened, and, startled by the noise I made, were hurrying away from the scene with a dreadful clamor of cries and shrieks. Emerging again into the broad sunlight, I strolled further in search of something to shoot. Presently, I saw, feeding quietly in the forest which bounded the valley of the Mtambu on the left, a huge, reddish-coloured wild boar, armed with most horrid tusks. Leaving Kalulu crouched down behind a tree, and my solar helmet behind another close by--that I might more safely stalk the animal--I advanced towards him some forty yards, and after taking a deliberate aim, fired at his fore shoulder. As if nothing had hurt him whatever, the animal made a furious bound, and then stood with his bristles erected, and tufted tail, curved over the back--a most formidable brute in appearance. While he was thus listening, and searching the neighbourhood with his keen, small eyes, I planted another shot in his chest, which ploughed its way through his body. Instead of falling, however, as I expected he would, he charged furiously in the direction the bullet had come, and as he rushed past me, another ball was fired, which went right through him; but still he kept on, until, within six or seven yards from the trees behind which Kalulu was crouching down on one side, and the helmet was resting behind another, he suddenly halted, and then dropped. But as I was about to advance on him with my knife to cut his throat, he suddenly started up; his eyes had caught sight of the little boy Kalulu, and were then, almost immediately afterwards, attracted by the sight of the snowy helmet. These strange objects on either side of him proved too much for the boar, for, with a terrific grunt, he darted on one side into a thick brake, from which it was impossible to oust him, and as it was now getting late, and the camp was about three miles away, I was reluctantly obliged to return without the meat. On our way to camp we were accompanied by a large animal which persistently followed us on our left. It was too dark to see plainly, but a large form was visible, if not very clearly defined. It must have been a lion, unless it was the ghost of the dead boar. That night, about 11 P.M., we were startled by the roar of a lion, in close proximity to the camp. Soon it was joined by another, and another still, and the novelty of the thing kept me awake. I peered through the gate of the camp, and endeavoured to sight a rifle--my little Winchester, in the accuracy of which I had perfect confidence; but, alas! for the cartridges, they might have been as well filled with sawdust for all the benefit I derived from them. Disgusted with the miserable ammunition, I left the lions alone, and turned in, with their roaring as a lullaby. That terrestrial paradise for the hunter, the valley of the pellucid Mtambu, was deserted by us the next morning for the settlement commonly known to the Wakawendi as Imrera's, with as much unconcern as though it were a howling desert. The village near which we encamped was called Itaga, in the district of Rusawa. As soon as we had crossed the River Mtambu we had entered Ukawendi, commonly called "Kawendi" by the natives of the country. The district of Rusawa is thickly populated. The people are quiet and well-disposed to strangers, though few ever come to this region from afar. One or two Wasawahili traders visit it every year or so from Pumburu and Usowa; but very little ivory being obtained from the people, the long distance between the settlements serves to deter the regular trader from venturing hither. If caravans arrive here, the objective point to them is the district of Pumburu, situated south-westerly one day's good marching, or, say, thirty statute miles from Imrera; or they make for Usowa, on the Tanganika, via Pumburu, Katuma, Uyombeh, and Ugarawah. Usowa is quite an important district on the Tanganika, populous and flourishing. This was the road we had intended to adopt after leaving Imrera, but the reports received at the latter place forbade such a venture. For Mapunda, the Sultan of Usowa, though a great friend to Arab traders, was at war with the colony of the Wazavira, who we must remember were driven from Mpokwa and vicinity in Utanda, and who were said to have settled between Pumburu and Usowa. It remained for us, like wise, prudent men, having charge of a large and valuable Expedition on our hands, to decide what to do, and what route to adopt, now that we had approached much nearer to Ujiji than we were to Unyanyembe. I suggested that we should make direct for the Tanganika by compass, trusting to no road or guide, but to march direct west until we came to the Tanganika, and then follow the lake shore on foot until we came to Ujiji. For it ever haunted my mind, that, if Dr. Livingstone should hear of my coming, which he might possibly do if I travelled along any known road, he would leave, and that my search for him would consequently be a "stern chase." But my principal men thought it better that we should now boldly turn our faces north, and march for the Malagarazi, which was said to be a large river flowing from the east to the Tanganika. But none of my men knew the road to the Malagarazi, neither could guides be hired from Sultan Imrera. We were, however, informed that the Malagarazi was but two days' march from Imrera. I thought it safe, in such a case, to provision my men with three days' rations. The village of Itaga is situated in a deep mountain hollow, finely overlooking a large extent of cultivation. The people grow sweet potatoes, manioc--out of which tapioca is made--beans, and the holcus. Not one chicken could be purchased for love or money, and, besides grain, only a lean, scraggy specimen of a goat, a long time ago imported form Uvinza, was procurable. October the 25th will be remembered by me as a day of great troubles; in fact, a series of troubles began from this date. We struck an easterly road in order to obtain a passage to the lofty plateau which bounded the valley of Imrera on the west and on the north. We camped, after a two and a half hours' march, at its foot. The defile promised a feasible means of ascent to the summit of the plateau, which rose upward in a series of scarps a thousand feet above the valley of Imrera. While ascending that lofty arc of mountains which bounded westerly and northerly the basin of Imrera, extensive prospects southward and eastward were revealed. The character of the scenery at Ukawendi is always animated and picturesque, but never sublime. The folds of this ridge contained several ruins of bomas, which seemed to have been erected during war time. The mbemba fruit was plentiful along this march, and every few minutes I could see from the rear one or two men hastening to secure a treasure of it which they discovered on the ground. A little before reaching the camp I had a shot at a leopard, but failed to bring him down as he bounded away. At night the lions roared as at the Mtambu River. A lengthy march under the deep twilight shadows of a great forest, which protected us from the hot sunbeams, brought us, on the next day, to a camp newly constructed by a party of Arabs from Ujiji, who had advanced thus far on their road to Unyanyembe, but, alarmed at the reports of the war between Mirambo and the Arabs, had returned. Our route was along the right bank of the Rugufu, a broad sluggish stream, well choked with the matete reeds and the papyrus. The tracks and the bois de vaches of buffaloes were numerous, and there were several indications of rhinoceros being near. In a deep clump of timber near this river we discovered a colony of bearded and leonine-looking monkeys. As we were about leaving our camp on the morning of the 28th a herd of buffalo walked deliberately into view. Silence was quickly restored, but not before the animals, to their great surprise, had discovered the danger which confronted them. We commenced stalking them, but we soon heard the thundering sound of their gallop, after which it becomes a useless task to follow them, with a long march in a wilderness before one. The road led on this day over immense sheets of sandstone and iron ore. The water was abominable, and scarce, and famine began to stare us in the face. We travelled for six hours, and had yet seen no sign of cultivation anywhere. According to my map we were yet two long marches from the Malagarazi--if Captain Burton had correctly laid down the position of the river; according to the natives' account, we should have arrived at the Malagarazi on this day. On the 29th we left our camp, and after a few minutes, we were in view of the sublimest, but ruggedest, scenes we had yet beheld in Africa. The country was cut up in all directions by deep, wild, and narrow ravines trending in all directions, but generally toward the north-west, while on either side rose enormous square masses of naked rock (sandstone), sometimes towering, and rounded, sometimes pyramidal, sometimes in truncated cones, sometimes in circular ridges, with sharp, rugged, naked backs, with but little vegetation anywhere visible, except it obtained a precarious tenure in the fissured crown of some gigantic hill-top, whither some soil had fallen, or at the base of the reddish ochre scarps which everywhere lifted their fronts to our view. A long series of descents down rocky gullies, wherein we were environed by threatening masses of disintegrated rock, brought us to a dry, stony ravine, with mountain heights looming above us a thousand feet high. This ravine we followed, winding around in all directions, but which gradually widened, however, into a broad plain, with a western trend. The road, leaving this, struck across a low ridge to the north; and we were in view of deserted settlements where the villages were built on frowning castellated masses of rock. Near an upright mass of rock over seventy feet high, and about fifty yards in diameter, which dwarfed the gigantic sycamore close to it, we made our camp, after five hours and thirty minutes' continuous and rapid marching. The people were very hungry; they had eaten every scrap of meat, and every grain they possessed, twenty hours before, and there was no immediate prospect of food. I had but a pound and a half of flour left, and this would not have sufficed to begin to feed a force of over forty-five people; but I had something like thirty pounds of tea, and twenty pounds of sugar left, and I at once, as soon as we arrived at camp, ordered every kettle to be filled and placed on the fire, and then made tea for all; giving each man a quart of a hot, grateful beverage; well sweetened. Parties stole out also into the depths: of the jungle to search for wild fruit, and soon returned laden with baskets of the wood-peach and tamarind fruit, which though it did not satisfy, relieved them. That night, before going to sleep, the Wangwana set up a loud prayer to "Allah" to give them food. We rose betimes in the morning, determined to travel on until food could be procured, or we dropped down from sheer fatigue and weakness. Rhinoceros' tracks abounded, and buffalo seemed to be plentiful, but we never beheld a living thing. We crossed scores of short steeps, and descended as often into the depths of dry, stony gullies, and then finally entered a valley, bounded on one side by a triangular mountain with perpendicular sides, and on the other by a bold group, a triplet of hills. While marching down this valley--which soon changed its dry, bleached aspect to a vivid green--we saw a forest in the distance, and shortly found ourselves in corn-fields. Looking keenly around for a village, we descried it on the summit of the lofty triangular hill on our right. A loud exultant shout was raised at the discovery. The men threw down their packs, and began to clamour for food. Volunteers were asked to come forward to take cloth, and scale the heights to obtain it from the village, at any price. While three or four sallied off we rested on the ground, quite worn out. In about an hour the foraging party returned with the glorious tidings that food was plentiful; that the village we saw was called, "Welled Nzogera's"--the son of Nzogera--by which, of course, we knew that we were in Uvinza, Nzogera being the principal chief in Uvinza. We were further informed that Nzogera, the father, was at war with Lokanda-Mire, about some salt-pans in the valley of the Malagarazi, and that it would be difficult to go to Ujiji by the usual road, owing to this war; but, for a consideration, the son of Nzogera was willing to supply us with guides, who would take us safely, by a northern road, to Ujiji. Everything auguring well for our prospects, we encamped to enjoy the good cheer, for which our troubles and privations, during the transit of the Ukawendi forests and jungles, had well prepared us. I am now going to extract from my Diary of the march, as, without its aid, I deem it impossible to relate fully our various experiences, so as to show them properly as they occurred to us; and as these extracts were written and recorded at the close of each day, they possess more interest, in my opinion, than a cold relation of facts, now toned down in memory. October 31st. Tuesday.--Our road led E.N.E. for a considerable time after leaving the base of the triangular mountain whereon the son of Nzogera has established his stronghold, in order to avoid a deep and impassable portion of marsh, that stood between us and the direct route to the Malagarazi River. The valley sloped rapidly to this marsh, which received in its broad bosom the drainage of three extensive ranges. Soon we turned our faces northwest, and prepared to cross the marsh; and the guides informed us, as we halted on its eastern bank, of a terrible catastrophe which occurred a few yards above where we were preparing to cross. They told of an Arab and his caravan, consisting of thirty-five slaves, who had suddenly sunk out of sight, and who were never more heard of. This marsh, as it appeared to us, presented a breadth of some hundreds of yards, on which grew a close network of grass, with much decayed matter mixed up with it. In the centre of this, and underneath it, ran a broad, deep, and rapid stream. As the guides proceeded across, the men stole after them with cautious footsteps. As they arrived near the centre we began to see this unstable grassy bridge, so curiously provided by nature for us, move up and down in heavy languid undulations, like the swell of the sea after a storm. Where the two asses of the Expedition moved, the grassy waves rose a foot high; but suddenly one unfortunate animal plunged his feet through, and as he was unable to rise, he soon made a deep hollow, which was rapidly filling with water. With the aid of ten men, however, we were enabled to lift him bodily up and land him on a firmer part, and guiding them both across rapidly, the entire caravan crossed without accident. On arriving at the other side, we struck off to the north, and found ourselves in a delightful country, in every way suitable for agriculturists. Great rocks rose here and there, but in their fissures rose stately trees, under whose umbrage nestled the villages of the people. We found the various village elders greedy for cloth, but the presence of the younger son of Nzogera's men restrained their propensity for extortion. Goats and sheep were remarkably cheap, and in good condition; and, consequently, to celebrate our arrival near the Malagarazi, a flock of eight goats was slaughtered, and distributed to the men. November 1st.--Striking north-west, after leaving our camp, and descending the slope of a mountain, we soon beheld the anxiously looked-for Malagarazi, a narrow but deep stream, flowing through a valley pent in by lofty mountains. Fish-eating birds lined the trees on its banks; villages were thickly scattered about. Food was abundant and cheap. After travelling along the left bank of the river a few miles, we arrived at the settlements recognizing Kiala as their ruler. I had anticipated we should be able at once to cross the river, but difficulties arose. We were told to camp, before any negotiations could be entered into. When we demurred, we were informed we might cross the river if we wished, but we should not be assisted by any Mvinza. Being compelled to halt for this day, the tent was pitched in the middle of one of the villages, and the bales were stored in one of the huts, with four soldiers to guard them. After despatching an embassy to Kiala, eldest son of the great chief Nzogera, to request permission to cross the river as a peaceable caravan, Kiala sent word that the white man should cross his river after the payment of fifty-six cloths! Fifty-six cloths signified a bale nearly! Here was another opportunity for diplomacy. Bombay and Asmani were empowered to treat with Kiala about the honga, but it was not to exceed twenty-five doti. At 6 A.M., having spoken for seven hours, the two men returned, with the demand for thirteen doti for Nzogera, and ten doti for Kiala. Poor Bombay was hoarse, but Asmani still smiled; and I relented, congratulating myself that the preposterous demand, which was simply robbery, was no worse. Three hours later another demand was made. Kiala had been visited by a couple of chiefs from his father; and the chiefs being told that a white man was at the ferry, put in a claim for a couple of guns and a keg of gunpowder. But here my patience was exhausted, and I declared that they should have to take them by force, for I would never consent to be robbed and despoiled after any such fashion. Until 11 P.M., Bombay and Asmani were negotiating about this extra demand, arguing, quarreling, threatening, until Bombay declared they would talk him mad if it lasted much longer. I told Bombay to take two cloths, one for each chief, and, if they did not consider it enough, then I should fight. The present was taken, and the negotiations were terminated at midnight. November 2nd.--Ihata Island, one and a half hour west of Kiala's. We arrived before the Island of Ihata, on the left bank of the Malagarazi, at 5 p.m.; the morning having been wasted in puerile talk with the owner of the canoes at the ferry. The final demand for ferriage across was eight yards of cloth and four fundo* of sami-sami, or red beads; which was at once paid. Four men, with their loads, were permitted to cross in the small, unshapely, and cranky canoes. When the boatmen had discharged their canoes of their passengers and cargoes, they were ordered to halt on the other side, and, to my astonishment, another demand was made. The ferrymen had found that two fundo of these were of short measure, and two fundo more must be paid, otherwise the contract for ferrying us across would be considered null and void. So two fundo more were added, but not without demur and much "talk," which in these lands is necessary. ** 4 fundo == 40 necklaces; 1 fundo being 10 necklaces. Three times the canoes went backwards and forwards, when, lo! another demand was made, with the usual clamour and fierce wordy dispute; this time for five khete # for the man who guided us to the ferry, a shukka of cloth for a babbler, who had attached himself to the old-womanish Jumah, who did nothing but babble and increase the clamor. These demands were also settled. # Necklaces. About sunset we endeavoured to cross the donkeys. "Simba," a fine wild Kinyamwezi donkey, went in first, with a rope attached to his neck. He had arrived at the middle of the stream when we saw him begin to struggle--a crocodile had seized him by the throat. The poor animal's struggles were terrific. Chowpereh was dragging on the rope with all his might, but to no use, for the donkey sank, and we saw no more of him. The depth of the river at this place was about fifteen feet. We had seen the light-brown heads, the glittering eyes, and the ridgy backs, hovering about the vicinity, but we had never thought that the reptiles would advance so near such an exciting scene as the vicinity of the ferry presented during the crossing. Saddened a little by this loss, we resumed our work, and by 7 P.M. we were all across, excepting Bombay and the only donkey now left, which was to be brought across in the morning, when the crocodiles should have deserted the river. November 3rd.--What contention have we not been a witness to these last three days! What anxiety have we not suffered ever since our arrival in Uvinza! The Wavinza are worse than the Wagogo, and their greed is more insatiable. We got the donkey across with the aid of a mganga, or medicine man, who spat some chewed leaves of a tree which grows close to the stream over him. He informed me he could cross the river at any time, day or night, after rubbing his body with these chewed leaves, which he believed to be a most potent medicine. About 10 A.M. appeared from the direction of Ujiji a caravan of eighty Waguhha, a tribe which occupies a tract of country on the south-western side of the Lake Tanganika. We asked the news, and were told a white man had just arrived at Ujiji from Manyuema. This news startled us all. "A white man?" we asked. "Yes, a white man," they replied. "How is he dressed?" "Like the master," they answered, referring to me. "Is he young, or old?" "He is old. He has white hair on his face, and is sick." "Where has he come from?" "From a very far country away beyond Uguhha, called Manyuema." "Indeed! and is he stopping at Ujiji now?" "Yes, we saw him about eight days ago." "Do you think he will stop there until we see him?" "Sigue" (don't know). "Was he ever at Ujiji before?" "Yes, he went away a long time ago." Hurrah! This is Livingstone! He must be Livingstone! He can be no other; but still;--he may be some one else--some one from the West Coast--or perhaps he is Baker! No; Baker has no white hair on his face. But we must now march quick, lest he hears we are coming, and runs away. I addressed my men, and asked them if they were willing to march to Ujiji without a single halt, and then promised them, if they acceded to my wishes, two doti each man. All answered in the affirmative, almost as much rejoiced as I was myself. But I was madly rejoiced; intensely eager to resolve the burning question, "Is it Dr. David Livingstone?" God grant me patience, but I do wish there was a railroad, or, at least, horses in this country. We set out at once from the banks of the Malagarazi, accompanied by two guides furnished us by Usenge, the old man of the ferry, who, now that we had crossed, showed himself more amiably disposed to us. We arrived at the village of Isinga, Sultan Katalambula, after a little over an hour's march across a saline plain, but which as we advanced into the interior became fertile and productive. November 4th.--Started early with great caution, maintaining deep silence. The guides were sent forward, one two hundred yards ahead of the other, that we might be warned in time. The first part of the march was through a thin jungle of dwarf trees, which got thinner and thinner until finally it vanished altogether, and we had entered Uhha--a plain country. Villages were visible by the score among the tall bleached stalks of dourra and maize. Sometimes three, sometimes five, ten, or twenty beehive-shaped huts formed a village. The Wahha were evidently living in perfect security, for not one village amongst them all was surrounded with the customary defence of an African village. A narrow dry ditch formed the only boundary between Uhha and Uvinza. On entering Uhha, all danger from Makumbi vanished. We halted at Kawanga, the chief of which lost no time in making us understand that he was the great Mutware of Kimenyi under the king, and that he was the tribute gatherer for his Kiha majesty. He declared that he was the only one in Kimenyi--an eastern division of Uhha--who could demand tribute; and that it would be very satisfactory to him, and a saving of trouble to ourselves, if we settled his claim of twelve doti of good cloths at once. We did not think it the best way of proceeding, knowing as we did the character of the native African; so we at once proceeded to diminish this demand; but, after six hours' hot argument, the Mutware only reduced it by two. This claim was then settled, upon the understanding that we should be allowed to travel through Uhha as far as the Rusugi River without being further mulcted. November 5th.--Leaving Kawanga early in the morning and continuing our march over the boundless plains, which were bleached white by the hot equatorial sun, we were marching westward full of pleasant anticipations that we were nearing the end of our troubles, joyfully congratulating ourselves that within five days we should see that which I had come so far from civilisation, and through so many difficulties, to see, and were about passing a cluster of villages, with all the confidence which men possess against whom no one had further claim or a word to say, when I noticed two men darting from a group of natives who were watching us, and running towards the head of the Expedition, with the object, evidently, of preventing further progress. The caravan stopped, and I walked forward to ascertain the cause from the two natives. I was greeted politely by the two Wahha with the usual "Yambos," and was then asked, "Why does the white man pass by the village of the King of Uhha without salutation and a gift? Does not the white man know there lives a king in Uhha, to whom the Wangwana and Arabs pay something for right of passage?" "Why, we paid last night to the chief of Kawanga, who informed us that he was the man deputed by the King of Uhha to collect the toll." "How much did you pay?" "Ten doti of good cloth." "Are you sure?" "Quite sure. If you ask him, he will tell you so." "Well," said one of the Wahha, a fine, handsome, intelligent-looking youth, "it is our duty to the king to halt you here until we find out the truth of this. Will you walk to our village, and rest yourselves under the shade of our trees until we can send messengers to Kawanga?" "No; the sun is but an hour high, and we have far to travel; but, in order to show you we do not seek to pass through your country without doing that which is right, we will rest where we now stand, and we will send with your messengers two of our soldiers, who will show you the man to whom we paid the cloth." The messengers departed; but, in the meantime, the handsome youth, who turned out to be the nephew of the King, whispered some order to a lad, who immediately hastened away, with the speed of an antelope, to the cluster of villages which we had just passed. The result of this errand, as we saw in a short time, was the approach of a body of warriors, about fifty in number, headed by a tall, fine-looking man, who was dressed in a crimson robe called Joho, two ends of which were tied in a knot over the left shoulder; a new piece of American sheeting was folded like a turban around his head, and a large curved piece of polished ivory was suspended to his neck. He and his people were all armed with spears, and bows and arrows, and their advance was marked with a deliberation that showed they felt confidence in any issue that might transpire. We were halted on the eastern side of the Pombwe stream, near the village of Lukomo, in Kimenyi, Uhha. The gorgeously-dressed chief was a remarkable man in appearance. His face was oval in form, high cheek-bones, eyes deeply sunk, a prominent and bold forehead, a fine nose, and a well-cut mouth; he was tall in figure, and perfectly symmetrical. When near to us, he hailed me with the words, "Yambo, bana?--How do you do, master?" in quite a cordial tone. I replied cordially also, "Yambo, mutware?--How do you do, chief?" We, myself and men, interchanged "Yambos" with his warriors; and there was nothing in our first introduction to indicate that the meeting was of a hostile character. The chief seated himself, his haunches resting on his heels, laying down his bow and arrows by his side; his men did likewise. I seated myself on a bale, and each of my men sat down on their loads, forming quite a semicircle. The Wahha slightly outnumbered my party; but, while they were only armed with bows and arrows, spears, and knob-sticks, we were armed with rifles, muskets, revolvers, pistols, and hatchets. All were seated, and deep silence was maintained by the assembly. The great plains around us were as still in this bright noon as if they were deserted of all living creatures. Then the chief spoke: "I am Mionvu, the great Mutware of Kimenyi, and am next to the King, who lives yonder," pointing to a large village near some naked hills about ten miles to the north. "I have come to talk with the white man. It has always been the custom of the Arabs and the Wangwana to make a present to the King when they pass through his country. Does not the white man mean to pay the King's dues? Why does the white man halt in the road? Why will he not enter the village of Lukomo, where there is food and shade--where we can discuss this thing quietly? Does the white man mean to fight? I know well he is stronger than we are. His men have guns, and the Wahha have but bows and arrows, and spears; but Uhha is large, and our villages are many. Let him look about him everywhere--all is Uhha, and our country extends much further than he can see or walk in a day. The King of Uhha is strong; yet he wishes friendship only with the white man. Will the white man have war or peace?" A deep murmur of assent followed this speech of Mionvu from his people, and disapprobation, blended with a certain uneasiness; from my men. When about replying, the words of General Sherman, which I heard him utter to the chiefs of the Arapahoes and Cheyennes at North Platte, in 1867, came to my mind; and something of their spirit I embodied in my reply to Mionvu, Mutware of Kimenyi. "Mionvu, the great Mutware, asks me if I have come for war. When did Mionvu ever hear of white men warring against black men? Mionvu must understand that the white men are different from the black. White men do not leave their country to fight the black people, neither do they come here to buy ivory or slaves. They come to make friends with black people; they come to search for rivers; and lakes, and mountains; they come to discover what countries, what peoples, what rivers, what lakes, what forests, what plains, what mountains and hills are in your country; to know the different animals that are in the land of the black people, that, when they go back, they may tell the white kings, and men, and children, what they have seen and heard in the land so far from them. The white people are different from the Arabs and Wangwana; the white people know everything, and are very strong. When they fight, the Arabs and the Wangwana run away. We have great guns which thunder, and when they shoot the earth trembles; we have guns which carry bullets further than you can see: even with these little things" (pointing to my revolvers) "I could kill ten men quicker than you could count. We are stronger than the Wahha. Mionvu has spoken the truth, yet we do not wish to fight. I could kill Mionvu now, yet I talk to him as to a friend. I wish to be a friend to Mionvu, and to all black people. Will Mionvu say what I can do for him?" As these words were translated to him--imperfectly, I suppose, but still, intelligibly--the face of the Wahha showed how well they appreciated them. Once or twice I thought I detected something like fear, but my assertions that I desired peace and friendship with them soon obliterated all such feelings. Mionvu replied: "The white man tells me he is friendly. Why does he not come to our village? Why does he stop on the road? The sun is hot. Mionvu will not speak here any more. If the white man is a friend he will come to the village." "We must stop now. It is noon. You have broken our march. We will go and camp in your village," I said, at the same time rising and pointing to the men to take up their loads. We were compelled to camp; there was no help for it; the messengers had not returned from Kawanga. Having arrived in his village, Mionvu had cast himself at full length under the scanty shade afforded by a few trees within the boma. About 2 P.M. the messengers returned, saying it was true the chief of Kawanga had taken ten cloths; not, however for the King of Uhha, but for himself! Mionvu, who evidently was keen-witted, and knew perfectly what he was about, now roused himself, and began to make miniature faggots of thin canes, ten in each faggot, and shortly he presented ten of these small bundles, which together contained one hundred, to me, saying each stick represented a cloth, and the amount of the "honga" required by the King of Uhha was ONE HUNDRED CLOTHS!--nearly two bales! Recovering from our astonishment, which was almost indescribable, we offered TEN. "Ten! to the King of Uhha! Impossible. You do not stir from Lukomo until you pay us one hundred!" exclaimed Mionvu, in a significant manner. I returned no answer, but went to my hut, which Mionvu had cleared for my use, and Bombay, Asmani, Mabruki, and Chowpereh were invited--to come to me for consultation. Upon my asking them if we could not fight our way through Uhha, they became terror-stricken, and Bombay, in imploring accents, asked me to think well what I was about to do, because it was useless to enter on a war with the Wahha. "Uhha is all a plain country; we cannot hide anywhere. Every village will rise all about us, and how can forty-five men fight thousands of people? They would kill us all in a few minutes, and how would you ever reach Ujiji if you died? Think of it, my dear master, and do not throw your life away for a few rags of cloth." "Well, but, Bombay, this is robbery. Shall we submit to be robbed? Shall we give this fellow everything he asks? He might as well ask me for all the cloth, and all my guns, without letting him see that we can fight. I can kill Mionvu and his principal men myself, and you can slay all those howlers out there without much trouble. If Mionvu and his principal were dead we should not be troubled much, and we could strike south to the Mala-garazi, and go west to Ujiji." "No, no, dear master, don't think of it for a moment. If we went neat the Malagarazi we should come across Lokanda-Mira." "Well, then, we will go north." "Up that way Uhha extends far; and beyond Uhha are the Watuta." "Well, then, say what we shall do. We must do something; but we must not be robbed." "Pay Mionvu what he asks, and let us go away from here. This is the last place we shall have to pay. And in four days we shall be in Ujiji." "Did Mionvu tell you that this is the last time we would have to pay?" "He did, indeed." "What do you say, Asmani? Shall we fight or pay?" Asmani's face wore the usual smile, but he replied, "I am afraid we must pay. This is positively the last time." "And you, Chowpereh?" "Pay, bana; it is better to get along quietly in this country. If we were strong enough they would pay us. Ah, if we had only two hundred guns, how these Wahha would run!" "What do you say, Mabruki?" "Ah, master, dear master; it is very hard, and these people are great robbers. I would like to chop their heads off, all; so I would. But you had better pay. This is the last time; and what are one hundred cloths to you?" "Well, then, Bombay and Asmani, go to Mionvu, and offer him twenty. If he will not take twenty, give him thirty. If he refuses thirty, give him forty; then go up to eighty, slowly. Make plenty of talk; not one doti more. I swear to you I will shoot Mionvu if he demands more than eighty. Go, and remember to be wise." I will cut the matter short. At 9 P.M. sixty-four doti were handed over to Mionvu, for the King of Uhha; six doti for himself, and five doti for his sub; altogether seventy-five doti-- a bale and a quarter! No sooner had we paid than they began to fight amongst themselves over the booty, and I was in hopes that the factions would proceed to battle, that I might have good excuse for leaving them, and plunging south to the jungle that I believed existed there, by which means, under its friendly cover, we might strike west. But no, it was only a verbose war, which portended nothing more than a noisy clamor. November 6th.--At dawn we were on the road, very silent and sad. Our stock of cloth was much diminished; we had nine bales left, sufficient to have taken us to the Atlantic Ocean--aided by the beads, which were yet untouched--if we practised economy. If I met many more like Mionvu I had not enough to take me to Ujiji, and, though we were said to be so near, Livingstone seemed to me to be just as far as ever. We crossed the Pombwe, and then struck across a slowly-undulating plain rising gradually to mountains on our right, and on our left sinking towards the valley of the Malagarazi, which river was about twenty miles away. Villages rose to our view everywhere. Food was cheap, milk was plentiful, and the butter good. After a four hours' march, we crossed the Kanengi River, and entered the boma of Kahirigi, inhabited by several Watusi and Wahha. Here, we were told, lived the King of Uhha's brother. This announcement was anything but welcome, and I began to suspect I had fallen into another hornets' nest. We had not rested two hours before two Wangwana entered my tent, who were slaves of Thani bin Abdullah, our dandified friend of Unyanyembe. These men came, on the part of the king's brother, to claim the HONGA! The king's brother, demanded thirty doti! Half a bale! Merciful Providence! What shall I do? We had been told by Mionvu that the honga of Uhha was settled--and now here is another demand from the King's brother! It is the second time the lie has been told, and we have twice been deceived. We shall be deceived no more. These two men informed us there were five more chiefs, living but two hours from each other, who would exact tribute, or black-mail, like those we had seen. Knowing this much, I felt a certain calm. It was far better to know the worst at once. Five more chiefs with their demands would assuredly ruin us. In view of which, what is to be done? How am I to reach Livingstone, without being beggared? Dismissing the men, I called Bombay, and told him to assist Asmani in settling the honga--"as cheaply as possible." I then lit my pipe, put on the cap of consideration, and began to think. Within half an hour, I had made a plan, which was to be attempted to be put in execution that very night. I summoned the two slaves of Thani bin Abdullah, after the honga had been settled to everybody's satisfaction--though the profoundest casuistries and diplomatic arguments failed to reduce it lower than twenty-six doti--and began asking them about the possibility of evading the tribute-taking Wahha ahead. This rather astonished them at first, and they declared it to be impossible; but, finally, after being pressed, they replied, that one of their number should guide us at midnight, or a little after, into the jungle which grew on the frontiers of Uhha and Uvinza. By keeping a direct west course through this jungle until we came to Ukaranga we might be enabled--we were told--to travel through Uhha without further trouble. If I were willing to pay the guide twelve doti, and if I were able to impose silence on my people while passing through the sleeping village, the guide was positive I could reach Ujiji without paying another doti. It is needless to add, that I accepted the proffered assistance at such a price with joy. But there was much to be done. Provisions were to be purchased, sufficient to last four days, for the tramp through the jungle, and men were at once sent with cloth to purchase grain at any price. Fortune favoured us, for before 8 P.M. we had enough for six days. November 7th.--I did not go to sleep at all last night, but a little after midnight, as the moon was beginning to show itself, by gangs of four, the men stole quietly out of the village; and by 3 A.M. the entire Expedition was outside the boma, and not the slightest alarm had been made. After a signal to the new guide, the Expedition began to move in a southern direction along the right bank of the Kanengi River. After an hour's march in this direction, we struck west, across the grassy plain, and maintained it, despite the obstacles we encountered, which were sore enough to naked men. The bright moon lighted our path: dark clouds now and then cast immense long shadows over the deserted and silent plains, and the moonbeans were almost obscured, and at such times our position seemed awful-- Till the moon. Rising in clouded majesty, at length, Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. Bravely toiled the men, without murmur, though their legs were bleeding from the cruel grass. "Ambrosial morn" at last appeared, with all its beautiful and lovely features. Heaven was born anew to us, with comforting omens and cheery promise. The men, though fatigued at the unusual travel, sped forward with quicker, pace as daylight broke, until, at 8 A.M., we sighted the swift Rusugi River, when a halt was ordered in a clump of jungle near it, for breakfast and rest. Both banks of the river were alive with buffalo, eland, and antelope, but, though the sight was very tempting, we did not fire, because we dared not. The report of a gun would have alarmed the whole country. I preferred my coffee, and the contentment which my mind experienced at our success. An hour after we had rested, some natives, carrying salt from the Malagarazi, were seen coming up the right bank of the river. When abreast of our hiding-place, they detected us, and dropping their salt-bags, they took to their heels at once, shouting out as they ran, to alarm some villages that appeared about four miles north of us. The men were immediately ordered to take up their loads, and in a few minutes we had crossed the Rusugi, and were making direct for a bamboo jungle that appeared in our front. On, on, we kept steadily until, at 1 P.M., we sighted the little lake of Musunya, as wearied as possible with our nine hours march. Lake Musunya is one of the many circular basins found in this part of Uhha. There was quite a group of them. The more correct term of these lakes would be immense pools. In the Masika season, Lake Musunya must extend to three or four miles in length by two in breadth. It swarms with hippopotami, and its shores abound with noble game. We were very quiet, as may be imagined, in our bivouac; neither tent nor hut was raised, nor was fire kindled, so that, in case of pursuit, we could move off without delay. I kept my Winchester rifle (the gift of my friend Mr. Morris, and a rare gift it was for such a crisis) with its magazine full, and two hundred cartridges in a bag slung over my shoulders. Each soldier's gun was also ready and loaded, and we retired to sleep our fatigues off with a feeling of perfect security. November 8th.--Long before dawn appeared, we were on the march, and, as daylight broke, we emerged from the bamboo jungle, and struck across the naked plain of Uhha, once more passing several large pools by the way--far-embracing prospects of undulating country, with here and there a characteristic clump of trees relieving the general nudity of the whole. Hour after hour we toiled on, across the rolling land waves, the sun shining with all its wonted African fervor, but with its heat slightly tempered by the welcome breezes, which came laden with the fragrance of young grass, and perfume of strange flowers of various hues, that flecked the otherwise pale-green sheet which extended so far around us. We arrived at the Rugufu River--not the Ukawendi Rugufu, but the northern stream of that name, a tributary of the Malagarazi. It was a broad shallow stream, and sluggish, with an almost imperceptible flow south-west. While we halted in the deep shade afforded by a dense clump of jungle, close to the right bank, resting awhile before continuing our journey. I distinctly heard a sound as of distant thunder in the west. Upon asking if it were thunder, I was told it was Kabogo. "Kabogo? what is that?" "It is a great mountain on the other side of the Tanganika, full of deep holes, into which the water rolls; and when there is wind on the Tanganika, there is a sound like mvuha (thunder). Many boats have been lost there, and it is a custom with Arabs and natives to throw cloth--Merikani and Kaniki--and especially white (Merikani) beads, to appease the mulungu (god) of the lake. Those who throw beads generally get past without trouble, but those who do not throw beads into the lake get lost, and are drowned. Oh, it is a dreadful place!" This story was told me by the ever-smiling guide Asmani, and was corroborated by other former mariners of the lake whom I had with me. At the least, this place where we halted for dinner, on the banks of the Rugufu River, is eighteen and a half hours, or forty-six miles, from Ujiji; and, as Kabogo is said to be near Uguhha, it must be over sixty miles from Ujiji; therefore the sound of the thundering surf, which is said to roll into the caves of Kabogo, was heard by us at a distance of over one hundred miles away from them. Continuing our journey for three hours longer, through thin forests, over extensive beds of primitive rock, among fields of large boulders thickly strewn about, passing by numerous herds of buffalo, giraffe, and zebra, over a quaking quagmire which resembled peat, we arrived at the small stream of Sunuzzi, to a camping place only a mile removed from a large settlement of Wahha. But we were buried in the depths of a great forest--no road was in the vicinity, no noise was made, deep silence was preserved; nor were fires lit. We might therefore rest tranquilly secure, certain that we should not be disturbed. To-morrow morning the kirangozi has promised we shall be out of Uhha, and if we travel on to Niamtaga, in Ukaranga, the same day, the next day would see us in Ujiji. Patience, my soul! A few hours more, then the end of all this will be known! I shall be face to face with that "white man with the white hairs on his face, whoever he is!" November 9th.--Two hours before dawn we left our camp on the Sunuzzi River, and struck through the forest in a north-by-west direction, having muzzled our goats previously, lest, by their bleating, they might betray us. This was a mistake which might have ended tragically, for just as the eastern sky began to assume a pale greyish tint, we emerged from the jungle on the high road. The guide thought we had passed Uhha, and set up a shout which was echoed by every member of the caravan, and marched onward with new vigor and increased energy, when plump we came to the outskirts of a village, the inhabitants of which were beginning to stir. Silence was called for at once, and the Expedition halted immediately. I walked forward to the front to advise with the guide. He did not know what to do. There was no time to consider, so I ordered the goats to be slaughtered and left on the road, and the guide to push on boldly through the village. The chickens also had their throats cut; after which the Expedition resumed the march quickly and silently, led by the guide, who had orders to plunge into the jungle south of the road. I stayed until the last man had disappeared; then, after preparing my Winchester, brought up the rear, followed by my gunbearers with their stock of ammunition. As we were about disappearing beyond the last hut, a man darted out of his hut, and uttered an exclamation of alarm, and loud voices were heard as if in dispute. But in a short time we were in the depths of the jungle, hurrying away from the road in a southern direction, and edging slightly westward. Once I thought we were pursued, and I halted behind a tree to check our foes if they persisted in following us; but a few minutes proved to me that we were not pursued, After half-an-hour's march we again turned our faces westward. It was broad daylight now, and our eyes were delighted with most picturesque and sequestered little valleys, where wild fruit-trees grew, and rare flowers blossomed, and tiny brooks tumbled over polished pebbles--where all was bright and beautiful--until, finally, wading through one pretty pure streamlet, whose soft murmurs we took for a gentle welcome, we passed the boundary of wicked Uhha, and had entered Ukaranga!-- an event that was hailed with extravagant shouts of joy. Presently we found the smooth road, and we trod gaily with elastic steps, with limbs quickened for the march which we all knew to be drawing near its end. What cared we now for the difficulties we had encountered--for the rough and cruel forests, for the thorny thickets and hurtful grass, for the jangle of all savagedom, of which we had been the joyless audience! To-morrow! Ay, the great day draws nigh, and we may well laugh and sing while in this triumphant mood. We have been sorely tried; we have been angry with each other when vexed by troubles, but we forget all these now, and there is no face but is radiant with the happiness we have all deserved. We made a short halt at noon, for rest and refreshment. I was shown the hills from which the Tanganika could be seen, which bounded the valley of the Liuche on the east. I could not contain myself at the sight of them. Even with this short halt I was restless and unsatisfied. We resumed the march again. I spurred my men forward with the promise that to-morrow should see their reward. We were in sight of the villages of the Wakaranga; the people caught sight of us, and manifested considerable excitement. I sent men ahead to reassure them, and they came forward to greet us. This was so new and welcome to us, so different from the turbulent Wavinza and the black-mailers of Uhha, that we were melted. But we had no time to loiter by the way to indulge our joy. I was impelled onward by my almost uncontrollable feelings. I wished to resolve my doubts and fears. Was HE still there? Had HE heard of my coming? Would HE fly? How beautiful Ukaranga appears! The green hills are crowned by clusters of straw-thatched cones. The hills rise and fall; here denuded and cultivated, there in pasturage, here timbered, yonder swarming with huts. The country has somewhat the aspect of Maryland. We cross the Mkuti, a glorious little river! We ascend the opposite bank, and stride through the forest like men who have done a deed of which they may be proud. We have already travelled nine hours, and the sun is sinking rapidly towards the west; yet, apparently, we are not fatigued. We reach the outskirts of Niamtaga, and we hear drums beat. The people are flying into the woods; they desert their villages, for they take us to be Ruga-Ruga--the forest thieves of Mirambo, who, after conquering the Arabs of Unyanyembe, are coming to fight the Arabs of Ujiji. Even the King flies from his village, and every man, woman, and child, terror-stricken, follows him. We enter into it and quietly take possession. Finally, the word is bruited about that we are Wangwana, from Unyanyembe. "Well, then, is Mirambo dead?" they ask. "No," we answer. "Well, how did you come to Ukaranga?" "By way of Ukonongo, Ukawendi, and Uhha." "Oh--hi-le!" Then they laugh heartily at their fright, and begin to make excuses. The King is introduced to me, and he says he had only gone to the woods in order to attack us again--he meant to have come back and killed us all, if we had been Ruga-Ruga. But then we know the poor King was terribly frightened, and would never have dared to return, had we been RugaRuga--not he. We are not, however, in a mood to quarrel with him about an idiomatic phrase peculiar to him, but rather take him by the hand and shake it well, and say we are so very glad to see him. And he shares in our pleasure, and immediately three of the fattest sheep, pots of beer, flour, and honey are brought to us as a gift, and I make him happier still with two of the finest cloths I have in my bales; and thus a friendly pact is entered into between us. While I write my Diary of this day's proceedings, I tell my servant to lay out my new flannel suit, to oil my boots, to chalk my helmet, and fold a new puggaree around it, that I may make as presentable an appearance as possible before the white man with the grey beard, and before the Arabs of Ujiji; for the clothes I have worn through jungle and forest are in tatters. Good-night; only let one day come again, and we shall see what we shall see. November 10th. Friday.--The 236th day from Bagamoyo on the Sea, and the 51st day from Unyanyembe. General direction to Ujiji, west-by-south. Time of march, six hours. It is a happy, glorious morning. The air is fresh and cool. The sky lovingly smiles on the earth and her children. The deep woods are crowned in bright vernal leafage; the water of the Mkuti, rushing under the emerald shade afforded by the bearded banks, seems to challenge us for the race to Ujiji, with its continuous brawl. We are all outside the village cane fence, every man of us looking as spruce, as neat, and happy as when we embarked on the dhows at Zanzibar, which seems to us to have been ages ago--we have witnessed and experienced so much. "Forward!" "Ay Wallah, ay Wallah, bana yango!" and the lighthearted braves stride away at a rate which must soon bring us within view of Ujiji. We ascend a hill overgrown with bamboo, descend into a ravine through which dashes an impetuous little torrent, ascend another short hill, then, along a smooth footpath running across the slope of a long ridge, we push on as only eager, lighthearted men can do. In two hours I am warned to prepare for a view of the Tanganika, for, from the top of a steep mountain the kirangozi says I can see it. I almost vent the feeling of my heart in cries. But wait, we must behold it first. And we press forward and up the hill breathlessly, lest the grand scene hasten away. We are at last on the summit. Ah! not yet can it be seen. A little further on--just yonder, oh! there it is--a silvery gleam. I merely catch sight of it between the trees, and--but here it is at last! True--THE TANGANIKA! and there are the blue-black mountains of Ugoma and Ukaramba. An immense broad sheet, a burnished bed of silver--lucid canopy of blue above--lofty mountains are its valances, palm forests form its fringes! The Tanganika!--Hurrah! and the men respond to the exultant cry of the Anglo-Saxon with the lungs of Stentors, and the great forests and the hills seem to share in our triumph. "Was this the place where Burton and Speke stood, Bombay, when they saw the lake first?" "I don't remember, master; it was somewhere about here, I think." "Poor fellows! The one was half-paralyzed, the other half-blind," said Sir Roderick Murchison, when he described Burton and Spoke's arrival in view of the Tanganika. And I? Well, I am so happy that, were I quite paralyzed and blinded, I think that at this supreme moment I could take up my bed and walk, and all blindness would cease at once. Fortunately, however, I am quite well; I have not suffered a day's sickness since the day I left Unyanyembe. How much would Shaw be willing to give to be in my place now? Who is happiest--he revelling in the luxuries of Unyanyembe, or I, standing on the summit of this mountain, looking down with glad eyes and proud heart on the Tanganika? We are descending the western slope of the mountain, with the valley of the Liuche before us. Something like an hour before noon we have gained the thick matete brake, which grows on both banks of the river; we wade through the clear stream, arrive on the other side, emerge out of the brake, and the gardens of the Wajiji are around us--a perfect marvel of vegetable wealth. Details escape my hasty and partial observation. I am almost overpowered with my own emotions. I notice the graceful palms, neat plots, green with vegetable plants, and small villages surrounded with frail fences of the matete-cane. We push on rapidly, lest the news of our coming might reach the people of Ujiji before we come in sight, and are ready for them. We halt at a little brook, then ascend the long slope of a naked ridge, the very last of the myriads we have crossed. This alone prevents us from seeing the lake in all its vastness. We arrive at the summit, travel across and arrive at its western rim, and-- pause, reader--the port of Ujiji is below us, embowered in the palms, only five hundred yards from us! At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we have marched, or of the hundreds of hills that we have ascended and descended, or of the many forests we have traversed, or of the jungles and thickets that annoyed us, or of the fervid salt plains that blistered our feet, or of the hot suns that scorched us, nor of the dangers and difficulties, now happily surmounted! At last the sublime hour has arrived;--our dreams, our hopes, and anticipations are now about to be realised! Our hearts and our feelings are with our eyes, as we peer into the palms and try to make out in which hut or house lives the "white man with the grey beard" we heard about when we were at the Malagarazi. "Unfurl the flags, and load your guns!" "We will, master, we will, master!" respond the men eagerly. "One, two, three,--fire!" A volley from nearly fifty guns roars like a salute from a battery of artillery: we shall note its effect presently on the peaceful-looking village below. "Now, kirangozi, hold the white man's flag up high, and let the Zanzibar flag bring up the rear. And you men keep close together, and keep firing until we halt in the market-place, or before the white man's house. You have said to me often that you could smell the fish of the Tanganika--I can smell the fish of the Tanganika now. There are fish, and beer, and a long rest waiting for you. MARCH!" Before we had gone a hundred yards our repeated volleys had the effect desired. We had awakened Ujiji to the knowledge that a caravan was coming, and the people were witnessed rushing up in hundreds to meet us. The mere sight of the flags informed every one immediately that we were a caravan, but the American flag borne aloft by gigantic Asmani, whose face was one vast smile on this day, rather staggered them at first. However, many of the people who now approached us, remembered the flag. They had seen it float above the American Consulate, and from the mast-head of many a ship in the harbor of Zanzibar, and they were soon heard welcoming the beautiful flag with cries of "Bindera Kisungu!"--a white man's flag! "Bindera Merikani!"--the American flag! Then we were surrounded by them: by Wajiji, Wanyamwezi, Wangwana, Warundi, Waguhha, Wamanyuema, and Arabs, and were almost deafened with the shouts of "Yambo, yambo, bana! Yambo, bana! Yambo, bana!" To all and each of my men the welcome was given. We were now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji, and the crowds are dense about me. Suddenly I hear a voice on my right say, "Good morning, sir!" Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of black people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see him at my side, with the blackest of faces, but animated and joyous--a man dressed in a long white shirt, with a turban of American sheeting around his woolly head, and I ask: "Who the mischief are you?" "I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone," said be, smiling, and showing a gleaming row of teeth. "What! Is Dr. Livingstone here?" "Yes, sir." "In this village?" "Yes, sir." "Are you sure?" "Sure, sure, sir. Why, I leave him just now." "Good morning, sir," said another voice. "Hallo," said I, "is this another one?" "Yes, sir." "Well, what is your name?" "My name is Chumah, sir." "What! are you Chumah, the friend of Wekotani?" "Yes, sir." "And is the-Doctor well?" "Not very well, sir." "Where has he been so long?" "In Manyuema." "Now, you Susi, run, and tell the Doctor I am coming." "Yes, sir," and off he darted like a madman. But by this time we were within two hundred yards of the village, and the multitude was getting denser, and almost preventing our march. Flags and streamers were out; Arabs and Wangwana were pushing their way through the natives in order to greet us, for according to their account, we belonged to them. But the great wonder of all was, "How did you come from Unyanyembe?" Soon Susi came running back, and asked me my name; he had told the Doctor I was coming, but the Doctor was too surprised to believe him, and when the Doctor asked him my name, Susi was rather staggered. But, during Susi's absence, the news had been conveyed to the Doctor that it was surely a white man that was coming, whose guns were firing, and whose flag could be seen; and the great Arab magnates of Ujiji--Mohammed bin Sali, Sayd bin Majid, Abid bin Suliman, Mohammed bin Gharib, and others--had gathered together before the Doctor's house, and the Doctor had come out from his veranda to discuss the matter and await my arrival. In the meantime, the head of the Expedition had halted, and the kirangozi was out of the ranks, holding his flag aloft, and Selim said to me, "I see the Doctor, sir. Oh, what an old man! He has got a white beard." And I--what would I not have given for a bit of friendly wilderness, where, unseen, I might vent my joy in some mad freak, such as idiotically biting my hand; turning a somersault, or slashing at trees, in order to allay those exciting feelings that were well-nigh uncontrollable. My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances. So I did that which I thought was most dignified. I pushed back the crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue of people, until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, before which stood the "white man with the grey beard." As I advanced slowly towards him I noticed he was pale, that he looked wearied and wan, that he had grey whiskers and moustache, that he wore a bluish cloth cap with a faded gold band on a red ground round it, and that he had on a red-sleeved waistcoat, and a pair of grey tweed trousers. I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob--would have embraced him, but that I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what moral cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing--walked deliberately to him, took off my hat, and said: "DR. LIVINGSTONE, I PRESUME?" "Yes," said he, with a kind, cordial smile, lifting his cap slightly. I replaced my hat on my head, and he replaced his cap, and we both grasped hands. I then said aloud: "I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you." He answered, "I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you." I turned to the Arabs, took off my hat to them in response to the saluting chorus of "Yambos" I received, and the Doctor introduced them to me by name. Then, oblivious of the crowds, oblivious of the men who shared with me my dangers, we--Livingstone and I-- turned our faces towards his house. He pointed to the veranda, or rather, mud platform, under the broad overhanging eaves; he pointed to his own particular seat, which I saw his age and experience in Africa had suggested, namely, a straw mat, with a goatskin over it, and another skin nailed against the wall to protect his back from contact with the cold mud. I protested against taking this seat, which so much more befitted him than I, but the Doctor would not yield: I must take it. We were seated--the Doctor and I--with our backs to the wall. The Arabs took seats on our left. More than a thousand natives were in our front, filling the whole square densely, indulging their curiosity, and discussing the fact of two white men meeting at Ujiji--one just come from Manyuema, in the west, the other from Unyanyembe, in the east. Conversation began. What about? I declare I have forgotten. Oh! we mutually asked questions of one another, such as "How did you come here?" and "Where have you been all this long time?--the world has believed you to be dead." Yes, that was the way it began: but whatever the Doctor informed me, and that which I communicated to him, I cannot correctly report, for I found myself gazing at him, conning the wonderful figure and face of the man at whose side I now sat in Central Africa. Every hair of his head and beard, every wrinkle of his face, the wanness of his features, and the slightly wearied look he wore, were all imparting intelligence to me--the knowledge I craved for so much ever since I heard the words, "Take what you want, but find Livingstone." What I saw was deeply interesting intelligence to me, and unvarnished truth. I was listening and reading at the same time. What did these dumb witnesses relate to me? Oh, reader, had you been at my side on this day in Ujiji, how eloquently could be told the nature of this man's work! Had you been there but to see and hear! His lips gave me the details; lips that never lie. I cannot repeat what he said; I was too much engrossed to take my note-book out, and begin to stenograph his story. He had so much to say that he began at the end, seemingly oblivious of the fact that five or six years had to be accounted for. But his account was oozing out; it was growing fast into grand proportions-- into a most marvellous history of deeds. The Arabs rose up, with a delicacy I approved, as if they intuitively knew that we ought to be left to ourselves. I sent Bombay with them to give them the news they also wanted so much to know about the affairs at Unyanyembe. Sayd bin Majid was the father of the gallant young man whom I saw at Masangi, and who fought with me at Zimbizo, and who soon afterwards was killed by Mirambo's Ruga-Ruga in the forest of Wilyankuru; and, knowing that I had been there, he earnestly desired to hear the tale of the fight; but they had all friends at Unyanyembe, and it was but natural that they should be anxious to hear of what concerned them. After giving orders to Bombay and Asmani for the provisioning of the men of the Expedition, I called "Kaif-Halek," or "How-do-ye-do," and introduced him to Dr. Livingstone as one of the soldiers in charge of certain goods left at Unyanyembe, whom I had compelled to accompany me to Ujiji, that he might deliver in person to his master the letter-bag with which he had been entrusted. This was that famous letter-bag marked "Nov. 1st, 1870," which was now delivered into the Doctor's hands 365 days after it left Zanzibar! How long, I wonder, had it remained at Unyanyembe had I not been despatched into Central Africa in search of the great traveller? The Doctor kept the letter-bag on his knee, then, presently, opened it, looked at the letters contained there, and read one or two of his children's letters, his face in the meanwhile lighting up. He asked me to tell him the news. "No, Doctor," said I, "read your letters first, which I am sure you must be impatient to read." "Ah," said he, "I have waited years for letters, and I have been taught patience. I can surely afford to wait a few hours longer. No, tell me the general news: how is the world getting along? "You probably know much already. Do you know that the Suez Canal is a fact--is opened, and a regular trade carried on between Europe and India through it?" "I did not hear about the opening of it. Well, that is grand news! What else?" Shortly I found myself enacting the part of an annual periodical to him. There was no need of exaggeration of any penny-a-line news, or of any sensationalism. The world had witnessed and experienced much the last few years. The Pacific Railroad had been completed (1869); Grant had been elected President of the United States; Egypt had been flooded with savans: the Cretan rebellion had terminated (1866-1868); a Spanish revolution had driven Isabella from the throne of Spain, and a Regent had been appointed: General Prim was assassinated; a Castelar had electrified Europe with his advanced ideas upon the liberty of worship; Prussia had humbled Denmark, and annexed Schleswig-Holstein <1864>, and her armies were now around Paris; the "Man of Destiny" was a prisoner at Wilhelmshohe; the Queen of Fashion and the Empress of the French was a fugitive; and the child born in the purple had lost for ever the Imperial crown intended for his head; the Napoleon dynasty was extinguished by the Prussians, Bismarck and Von Moltke; and France, the proud empire, was humbled to the dust. What could a man have exaggerated of these facts? What a budget of news it was to one who had emerged from the depths of the primeval forests of Manyuema! The reflection of the dazzling light of civilisation was cast on him while Livingstone was thus listening in wonder to one of the most exciting pages of history ever repeated. How the puny deeds of barbarism paled before these! Who could tell under what new phases of uneasy life Europe was labouring even then, while we, two of her lonely children, rehearsed the tale of her late woes and glories? More worthily, perhaps, had the tongue of a lyric Demodocus recounted them; but, in the absence of the poet, the newspaper correspondent performed his part as well and truthfully as he could. Not long after the Arabs had departed, a dishful of hot hashed-meat cakes was sent to us by Sayd bin Majid, and a curried chicken was received from Mohammed bin Sali, and Moeni Kheri sent a dishful of stewed goat-meat and rice; and thus presents of food came in succession, and as fast as they were brought we set to. I had a healthy, stubborn digestion--the exercise I had taken had put it in prime order; but Livingstone--he had been complaining that he had no appetite, that his stomach refused everything but a cup of tea now and then--he ate also--ate like a vigorous, hungry man; and, as he vied with me in demolishing the pancakes, he kept repeating, "You have brought me new life. You have brought me new life." "Oh, by George!" I said, "I have forgotten something. Hasten, Selim, and bring that bottle; you know which and bring me the silver goblets. I brought this bottle on purpose for this event, which I hoped would come to pass, though often it seemed useless to expect it." Selim knew where the bottle was, and he soon returned with it--a bottle of Sillery champagne; and, handing the Doctor a silver goblet brimful of the exhilarating wine, and pouring a small quantity into my own, I said, "Dr. Livingstone, to your very good health, sir." "And to yours!" he responded, smilingly. And the champagne I had treasured for this happy meeting was drunk with hearty good wishes to each other. But we kept on talking and talking, and prepared food was being brought to us all that afternoon; and we kept on eating each time it was brought, until I had eaten even to repletion, and the Doctor was obliged to confess that he had eaten enough. Still, Halimah, the female cook of the Doctor's establishment, was in a state of the greatest excitement. She had been protruding her head out of the cookhouse to make sure that there were really two white men sitting down in the veranda, when there used to be only one, who would not, because he could not, eat anything; and she had been considerably exercised in her mind about this fact. She was afraid the Doctor did not properly appreciate her culinary abilities; but now she was amazed at the extraordinary quantity of food eaten, and she was in a state of delightful excitement. We could hear her tongue rolling off a tremendous volume of clatter to the wondering crowds who halted before the kitchen to hear the current of news with which she edified them. Poor, faithful soul! While we listened to the noise of her furious gossip, the Doctor related her faithful services, and the terrible anxiety she evinced when the guns first announced the arrival of another white man in Ujiji; how she had been flying about in a state cf the utmost excitement, from the kitchen into his presence, and out again into the square, asking all sorts of questions; how she was in despair at the scantiness of the general larder and treasury of the strange household; how she was anxious to make up for their poverty by a grand appearance-- to make up a sort of Barmecide feast to welcome the white man. "Why," said she, "is he not one of us? Does he not bring plenty of cloth and beads? Talk about the Arabs! Who are they that they should be compared to white men? Arabs, indeed!" The Doctor and I conversed upon many things, especially upon his own immediate troubles, and his disappointments, upon his arrival in Ujiji, when told that all his goods had been sold, and he was reduced to poverty. He had but twenty cloths or so left of the stock he had deposited with the man called Sherif, the half-caste drunken tailor, who was sent by the Consul in charge of the goods. Besides which he had been suffering from an attack of dysentery, and his condition was most deplorable. He was but little improved on this day, though he had eaten well, and already began to feel stronger and better. This day, like all others, though big with happiness to me, at last was fading away. While sitting with our faces looking to the east, as Livingstone had been sitting for days preceding my arrival, we noted the dark shadows which crept up above the grove of palms beyond the village, and above the rampart of mountains which we had crossed that day, now looming through the fast approaching darkness; and we listened, with our hearts full of gratitude to the Great Giver of Good and Dispenser of all Happiness, to the sonorous thunder of the surf of the Tanganika, and to the chorus which the night insects sang. Hours passed, and we were still sitting there with our minds busy upon the day's remarkable events, when I remembered that the traveller had not yet read his letters. "Doctor," I said, "you had better read your letters. I will not keep you up any longer." "Yes," he answered, "it is getting late; and I will go and read my friends' letters. Good-night, and God bless you." "Good-night, my dear Doctor; and let me hope that your news will be such as you desire." I have now related, by means of my Diary, "How I found Livingstone," as recorded on the evening of that great day. I have been averse to reduce it by process of excision and suppression, into a mere cold narrative, because, by so doing, I would be unable to record what feelings swayed each member of the Expedition as well as myself during the days preceding the discovery of the lost traveller, and more especially the day it was the good fortune of both Livingstone and myself to clasp each other's hands in the strong friendship which was born in that hour we thus strangely met. The aged traveller, though cruelly belied, contrary to all previous expectation, received me as a friend; and the cordial warmth with which he accepted my greeting; the courtesy with which he tendered to me a shelter in his own house; the simple candour of his conversation; graced by unusual modesty of manner, and meekness of spirit, wrought in me such a violent reaction in his favor, that when the parting "good-night" was uttered, I felt a momentary vague fear lest the fulness of joy which I experienced that evening would be diminished by some envious fate, before the morrow's sun should rise above Ujiji. CHAPTER XII. -- INTERCOURSE WITH LIVINGSTONE AT UJIJI--LIVINGSTONE'S OWN STORY OF HIS JOURNEYS, HIS TROUBLES, AND DISAPPOINTMENTS. "If there is love between us, inconceivably delicious, and profitable will our intercourse be; if not, your time is lost, and you will only annoy me. I shall seem to you stupid, and the reputation I have false. All my good is magnetic, and I educate not by lessons, but by going about my business."--Emerson's 'Representative Men'. I woke up early next morning with a sudden start. The room was strange! It was a house, and not my tent! Ah, yes! I recollected I had discovered Livingstone, and I was in his house. I listened, that the knowledge dawning on me might be confirmed by the sound of his voice. I heard nothing but the sullen roar of the surf. I lay quietly in bed. Bed! Yes, it was a primitive four-poster, with the leaves of the palm-tree spread upon it instead of down, and horsehair and my bearskin spread over this serving me in place of linen. I began to put myself under rigid mental cross-examination, and to an analyzation of my position. "What was I sent for?" "To find Livingstone." "Have you found him?" "Yes, of course; am I not in his house? Whose compass is that hanging on a peg there? Whose clothes, whose boots, are those? Who reads those newspapers, those 'Saturday Reviews' and numbers of 'Punch' lying on the floor?" "Well, what are you going to do now?" "I shall tell him this morning who sent me, and what brought me here. I will then ask him to write a letter to Mr. Bennett, and to give what news he can spare. I did not come here to rob him of his news. Sufficient for me is it that I have found him. It is a complete success so far. But it will be a greater one if he gives me letters for Mr. Bennett, and an acknowledgment that he has seen me." "Do you think he will do so?" "Why not? I have come here to do him a service. He has no goods. I have. He has no men with him. I have. If I do a friendly part by him, will he not do a friendly part by me? What says the poet?-- Nor hope to find A friend, but who has found a friend in thee. All like the purchase; few the price will pay And this makes friends such wonders here below. I have paid the purchase, by coming so far to do him a service. But I think, from what I have seen of him last night, that he is not such a niggard and misanthrope as I was led to believe. He exhibited considerable emotion, despite the monosyllabic greeting, when he shook my hand. If he were a man to feel annoyance at any person coming after him, he would not have received me as he did, nor would he ask me to live with him, but he would have surlily refused to see me, and told me to mind my own business. Neither does he mind my nationality; for 'here,' said he, 'Americans and Englishmen are the same people. We speak the same language and have the same ideas.' Just so, Doctor; I agree with you. Here at least, Americans and Englishmen shall be brothers, and, whatever I can do for you, you may command me freely." I dressed myself quietly, intending to take a stroll along the Tanganika before the Doctor should rise; opened the door, which creaked horribly on its hinges, and walked out to the veranda. "Halloa, Doctor!--you up already? I hope you have slept well?" "Good-morning, Mr. Stanley! I am glad to see you. I hope you rested well. I sat up late reading my letters. You have brought me good and bad news. But sit down." He made a place for me by his side. "Yes, many of my friends are dead. My eldest son has met with a sad accident--that is, my boy Tom; my second son, Oswell, is at college studying medicine, and is doing well I am told. Agnes, my eldest daughter, has been enjoying herself in a yacht, with 'Sir Paraffine' Young and his family. Sir Roderick, also, is well, and expresses a hope that he will soon see me. You have brought me quite a budget." The man was not an apparition, then, and yesterday's scenes were not the result of a dream! and I gazed on him intently, for thus I was assured he had not run away, which was the great fear that constantly haunted me as I was journeying to Ujiji. "Now, Doctor," said I, "you are, probably, wondering why I came here?" "It is true," said he; "I have been wondering. I thought you, at first, an emissary of the French Government, in the place of Lieutenant Le Saint, who died a few miles above Gondokoro. I heard you had boats, plenty of men, and stores, and I really believed you were some French officer, until I saw the American flag; and, to tell you the truth, I was rather glad it was so, because I could not have talked to him in French; and if he did not know English, we had been a pretty pair of white men in Ujiji! I did not like to ask you yesterday, because I thought it was none of my business." "Well," said I, laughing, "for your sake I am glad that I am an American, and not a Frenchman, and that we can understand each other perfectly without an interpreter. I see that the Arabs are wondering that you, an Englishman, and I, an American, understand each other. We must take care not to tell them that the English and Americans have fought, and that there are 'Alabama' claims left unsettled, and that we have such people as Fenians in America, who hate you. But, seriously, Doctor--now don't be frightened when I tell you that I have come after--YOU!" "After me?" "Yes." "How?" "Well. You have heard of the 'New York Herald?'" "Oh--who has not heard of that newspaper?" "Without his father's knowledge or consent, Mr. James Gordon Bennett, son of Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the proprietor of the 'Herald,' has commissioned me to find you--to get whatever news of your discoveries you like to give--and to assist you, if I can, with means." "Young Mr. Bennett told you to come after me, to find me out, and help me! It is no wonder, then, you praised Mr. Bennett so much last night." "I know him--I am proud to say--to be just what I say he is. He is an ardent, generous, and true man." "Well, indeed! I am very much obliged to him; and it makes me feel proud to think that you Americans think so much of me. You have just come in the proper time; for I was beginning to think that I should have to beg from the Arabs. Even they are in want of cloth, and there are but few beads in Ujiji. That fellow Sherif has robbed me of all. I wish I could embody my thanks to Mr. Bennett in suitable words; but if I fail to do so, do not, I beg of you, believe me the less grateful." "And now, Doctor, having disposed of this little affair, Ferajji shall bring breakfast; if you have no objection." "You have given me an appetite," he said. "Halimah is my cook, but she never can tell the difference between tea and coffee." Ferajji, the cook, was ready as usual with excellent tea, and a dish of smoking cakes; "dampers," as the Doctor called them. I never did care much for this kind of a cake fried in a pan, but they were necessary to the Doctor, who had nearly lost all his teeth from the hard fare of Lunda. He had been compelled to subsist on green ears of Indian corn; there was no meat in that district; and the effort to gnaw at the corn ears had loosened all his teeth. I preferred the corn scones of Virginia, which, to my mind, were the nearest approach to palatable bread obtainable in Central Africa. The Doctor said he had thought me a most luxurious and rich man, when he saw my great bath-tub carried on the shoulders of one of my men; but he thought me still more luxurious this morning, when my knives and forks, and plates, and cups, saucers, silver spoons, and silver teapot were brought forth shining and bright, spread on a rich Persian carpet, and observed that I was well attended to by my yellow and ebon Mercuries. This was the beginning of our life at Ujiji. I knew him not as a friend before my arrival. He was only an object to me--a great item for a daily newspaper, as much as other subjects in which the voracious news-loving public delight in. I had gone over battlefields, witnessed revolutions, civil wars, rebellions, emeutes and massacres; stood close to the condemned murderer to record his last struggles and last sighs; but never had I been called to record anything that moved me so much as this man's woes and sufferings, his privations and disappointments, which now were poured into my ear. Verily did I begin to perceive that "the Gods above do with just eyes survey the affairs of men." I began to recognize the hand of an overruling and kindly Providence. The following are singular facts worthy for reflection. I was, commissioned for the duty of discovering Livingstone sometime in October, 1869. Mr. Bennett was ready with the money, and I was ready for the journey. But, observe, reader, that I did not proceed directly upon the search mission. I had many tasks to fulfil before proceeding with it, and many thousand miles to travel over. Supposing that I had gone direct to Zanzibar from Paris, seven or eight months afterwards, perhaps, I should have found myself at Ujiji, but Livingstone would not have been found there then; he was on the Lualaba; and I should have had to follow him on his devious tracks through the primeval forests of Manyuema, and up along the crooked course of the Lualaba for hundreds of miles. The time taken by me in travelling up the Nile, back to Jerusalem, then to Constantinople, Southern Russia, the Caucasus, and Persia, was employed by Livingstone in fruitful discoveries west of the Tanganika. Again, consider that I arrived at Unyanyembe in the latter part of June, and that owing to a war I was delayed three months at Unyanyembe, leading a fretful, peevish and impatient life. But while I was thus fretting myself, and being delayed by a series of accidents, Livingstone was being forced back to Ujiji in the same month. It took him from June to October to march to Ujiji. Now, in September, I broke loose from the thraldom which accident had imposed on me, and hurried southward to Ukonongo, then westward to Kawendi, then northward to Uvinza, then westward to Ujiji, only about three weeks after the Doctor's arrival, to find him resting under the veranda of his house with his face turned eastward, the direction from which I was coming. Had I gone direct from Paris on the search I might have lost him; had I been enabled to have gone direct to Ujiji from Unyanyembe I might have lost him. The days came and went peacefully and happily, under the palms of Ujiji. My companion was improving in health and spirits. Life had been brought back to him; his fading vitality was restored, his enthusiasm for his work was growing up again into a height that was compelling him to desire to be up and doing. But what could he do, with five men and fifteen or twenty cloths? "Have you seen the northern head of the Tangannka, Doctor?" I asked one day. "No; I did try to go there, but the Wajiji were doing their best to fleece me, as they did both Burton and Speke, and I had not a great deal of cloth. If I had gone to the head of the Tanganika, I could not have gone, to Manyuema. The central line of drainage was the most important, and that is the Lualaba. Before this line the question whether there is a connection between the Tanganika and the Albert N'Yanza sinks into insignificance. The great line of drainage is the river flowing from latitude 11 degrees south, which I followed for over seven degrees northward. The Chambezi, the name given to its most southern extremity, drains a large tract of country south of the southernmost source of the Tanganika; it must, therefore, be the most important. I have not the least doubt, myself, but that this lake is the Upper Tanganika, and the Albert N'Yanza of Baker is the Lower Tanganika, which are connected by a river flowing from the upper to the lower. This is my belief, based upon reports of the Arabs, and a test I made of the flow with water-plants. But I really never gave it much thought." "Well, if I were you, Doctor, before leaving Ujiji, I should explore it, and resolve the doubts upon the subject; lest, after you leave here, you should not return by this way. The Royal Geographical Society attach much importance to this supposed connection, and declare you are the only man who can settle it. If I can be of any service to you, you may command me. Though I did not come to Africa as an explorer, I have a good deal of curiosity upon the subject, and should be willing to accompany you. I have with me about twenty men who understand rowing we have plenty of guns, cloth, and beads; and if we can get a canoe from the Arabs we can manage the thing easily." "Oh, we can get a canoe from Sayd bin Majid. This man has been very kind to me, and if ever there was an Arab gentleman, he is one." "Then it is settled, is it, that we go?" "I am ready, whenever you are." "I am at your command. Don't you hear my men call you the 'Great Master,' and me the 'Little Master?' It would never do for the 'Little Master' to command." By this time Livingstone was becoming known to me. I defy any one to be in his society long without thoroughly fathoming him, for in him there is no guile, and what is apparent on the surface is the thing that is in him. I simply write down my own opinion of the man as I have seen him, not as he represents himself; as I know him to be, not as I have heard of him. I lived with him from the 10th November, 1871, to the 14th March, 1872; witnessed his conduct in the camp, and on the march, and my feelings for him are those of unqualified admiration. The camp is the best place to discover a man's weaknesses, where, if he is flighty or wrong-headed, he is sure to develop his hobbies and weak side. I think it possible, however, that Livingstone, with an unsuitable companion, might feel annoyance. I know I should do so very readily, if a man's character was of that oblique nature that it was an impossibility to travel in his company. I have seen men, in whose company I felt nothing but a thraldom, which it was a duty to my own self-respect to cast off as soon as possible; a feeling of utter incompatibility, with whose nature mine could never assimilate. But Livingstone was a character that I venerated, that called forth all my enthusiasm, that evoked nothing but sincerest admiration. Dr. Livingstone is about sixty years old, though after he was restored to health he appeared more like a man who had not passed his fiftieth year. His hair has a brownish colour yet, but is here and there streaked with grey lines over the temples; his whiskers and moustache are very grey. He shaves his chin daily. His eyes, which are hazel, are remarkably bright; he has a sight keen as a hawk's. His teeth alone indicate the weakness of age; the hard fare of Lunda has made havoc in their lines. His form, which soon assumed a stoutish appearance, is a little over the ordinary height with the slightest possible bow in the shoulders. When walking he has a firm but heavy tread, like that of an overworked or fatigued man. He is accustomed to wear a naval cap with a semicircular peak, by which he has been identified throughout Africa. His dress, when first I saw him, exhibited traces of patching and repairing, but was scrupulously clean. I was led to believe that Livingstone possessed a splenetic, misanthropic temper; some have said that he is garrulous, that he is demented; that he has utterly changed from the David Livingstone whom people knew as the reverend missionary; that he takes no notes or observations but such as those which no other person could read but himself; and it was reported, before I proceeded to Central Africa, that he was married to an African princess. I respectfully beg to differ with all and each of the above statements. I grant he is not an angel, but he approaches to that being as near as the nature of a living man will allow. I never saw any spleen or misanthropy in him--as for being garrulous, Dr. Livingstone is quite the reverse: he is reserved, if anything; and to the man who says Dr. Livingstone is changed, all I can say is, that he never could have known him, for it is notorious that the Doctor has a fund of quiet humour, which he exhibits at all times whenever he is among friends. I must also beg leave to correct the gentleman who informed me that Livingstone takes no notes or observations. The huge Letts's Diary which I carried home to his daughter is full of notes, and there are no less than a score of sheets within it filled with observations which he took during the last trip he made to Manyuema alone; and in the middle of the book there is sheet after sheet, column after column, carefully written, of figures alone. A large letter which I received from him has been sent to Sir Thomas MacLear, and this contains nothing but observations. During the four months I was with him, I noticed him every evening making most careful notes; and a large tin box that he has with him contains numbers of field note-books, the contents of which I dare say will see the light some time. His maps also evince great care and industry. As to the report of his African marriage, it is unnecessary to say more than that it is untrue, and it is utterly beneath a gentleman to hint at such a thing in connection with the name of David Livingstone. There is a good-natured abandon about Livingstone which was not lost on me. Whenever he began to laugh, there was a contagion about it, that compelled me to imitate him. It was such a laugh as Herr Teufelsdrockh's--a laugh of the whole man from head to heel. If he told a story, he related it in such a way as to convince one of its truthfulness; his face was so lit up by the sly fun it contained, that I was sure the story was worth relating, and worth listening to. The wan features which had shocked me at first meeting, the heavy step which told of age and hard travel, the grey beard and bowed shoulders, belied the man. Underneath that well-worn exterior lay an endless fund of high spirits and inexhaustible humour; that rugged frame of his enclosed a young and most exuberant soul. Every day I heard innumerable jokes and pleasant anecdotes; interesting hunting stories, in which his friends Oswell, Webb, Vardon, and Gorden Cumming were almost always the chief actors. I was not sure, at first, but this joviality, humour, and abundant animal spirits were the result of a joyous hysteria; but as I found they continued while I was with him, I am obliged to think them natural. Another thing which specially attracted my attention was his wonderfully retentive memory. If we remember the many years he has spent in Africa, deprived of books, we may well think it an uncommon memory that can recite whole poems from Byron, Burns, Tennyson, Longfellow, Whittier, and Lowell. The reason of this may be found, perhaps, in the fact, that he has lived all his life almost, we may say, within himself. Zimmerman, a great student of human nature, says on this subject "The unencumbered mind recalls all that it has read, all that pleased the eye, and delighted the ear; and reflecting on every idea which either observation, or experience, or discourse has produced, gains new information by every reflection. The intellect contemplates all the former scenes of life; views by anticipation those that are yet to come; and blends all ideas of past and future in the actual enjoyment of the present moment." He has lived in a world which revolved inwardly, out of which he seldom awoke except to attend to the immediate practical necessities of himself and people; then relapsed again into the same happy inner world, which he must have peopled with his own friends, relations, acquaintances, familiar readings, ideas, and associations; so that wherever he might be, or by whatsoever he was surrounded, his own world always possessed more attractions to his cultured mind than were yielded by external circumstances. The study of Dr. Livingstone would not be complete if we did not take the religious side of his character into consideration. His religion is not of the theoretical kind, but it is a constant, earnest, sincere practice. It is neither demonstrative nor loud, but manifests itself in a quiet, practical way, and is always at work. It is not aggressive, which sometimes is troublesome, if not impertinent. In him, religion exhibits its loveliest features; it governs his conduct not only towards his servants, but towards the natives, the bigoted Mohammedans, and all who come in contact with him. Without it, Livingstone, with his ardent temperament, his enthusiasm, his high spirit and courage, must have become uncompanionable, and a hard master. Religion has tamed him, and made him a Christian gentleman: the crude and wilful have been refined and subdued; religion has made him the most companionable of men and indulgent of masters--a man whose society is pleasurable. In Livingstone I have seen many amiable traits. His gentleness never forsakes him; his hopefulness never deserts him. No harassing anxieties, distraction of mind, long separation from home and kindred, can make him complain. He thinks "all will come out right at last;" he has such faith in the goodness of Providence. The sport of adverse circumstances, the plaything of the miserable beings sent to him from Zanzibar--he has been baffled and worried, even almost to the grave, yet he will not desert the charge imposed upon him by his friend, Sir Roderick Murchison. To the stern dictates of duty, alone, has he sacrificed his home and ease, the pleasures, refinements, and luxuries of civilized life. His is the Spartan heroism, the inflexibility of the Roman, the enduring resolution of the Anglo-Saxon--never to relinquish his work, though his heart yearns for home; never to surrender his obligations until he can write Finis to his work. But you may take any point in Dr. Livingstone's character, and analyse it carefully, and I would challenge any man to find a fault in it. He is sensitive, I know; but so is any man of a high mind and generous nature. He is sensitive on the point of being doubted or being criticised. An extreme love of truth is one of his strongest characteristics, which proves him to be a man of strictest principles, and conscientious scruples; being such, he is naturally sensitive, and shrinks from any attacks on the integrity of his observations, and the accuracy of his reports. He is conscious of having laboured in the course of geography and science with zeal and industry, to have been painstaking, and as exact as circumstances would allow. Ordinary critics seldom take into consideration circumstances, but, utterly regardless of the labor expended in obtaining the least amount of geographical information in a new land, environed by inconceivable dangers and difficulties, such as Central Africa presents, they seem to take delight in rending to tatters, and reducing to nil, the fruits of long years of labor, by sharply-pointed shafts of ridicule and sneers. Livingstone no doubt may be mistaken in some of his conclusions about certain points in the geography of Central Africa, but he is not so dogmatic and positive a man as to refuse conviction. He certainly demands, when arguments in contra are used in opposition to him, higher authority than abstract theory. His whole life is a testimony against its unreliability, and his entire labor of years were in vain if theory can be taken in evidence against personal observation and patient investigation. The reluctance he manifests to entertain suppositions, possibilities regarding the nature, form, configuration of concrete immutable matter like the earth, arises from the fact, that a man who commits himself to theories about such an untheoretical subject as Central Africa is deterred from bestirring himself to prove them by the test of exploration. His opinion of such a man is, that he unfits himself for his duty, that he is very likely to become a slave to theory--a voluptuous fancy, which would master him. It is his firm belief, that a man who rests his sole knowledge of the geography of Africa on theory, deserves to be discredited. It has been the fear of being discredited and criticised and so made to appear before the world as a man who spent so many valuable years in Africa for the sake of burdening the geographical mind with theory that has detained him so long in Africa, doing his utmost to test the value of the main theory which clung to him, and would cling to him until he proved or disproved it. This main theory is his belief that in the broad and mighty Lualaba he has discovered the head waters of the Nile. His grounds for believing this are of such nature and weight as to compel him to despise the warning that years are advancing on him, and his former iron constitution is failing. He believes his speculations on this point will be verified; he believes he is strong enough to pursue his explorations until he can return to his country, with the announcement that the Lualaba is none other than the Nile. On discovering that the insignificant stream called the Chambezi, which rises between 10 degrees S. and 12 degrees S., flowed westerly, and then northerly through several lakes, now under the names of the Chambezi, then as the Luapula, and then as the Lualaba, and that it still continued its flow towards the north for over 7 degrees, Livingstone became firmly of the opinion that the river whose current he followed was the Egyptian Nile. Failing at lat. 4 degrees S. to pursue his explorations further without additional supplies, he determined to return to Ujiji to obtain them. And now, having obtained them, he intends to return to the point where he left off work. He means to follow that great river until it is firmly established what name shall eventually be given the noble water-way whose course he has followed through so many sick toilings and difficulties. To all entreaties to come home, to all the glowing temptations which home and innumerable friends offer, he returns the determined answer:-- "No; not until my work is ended." I have often heard our servants discuss our respective merits. "Your master," say my servants to Livingstone's, "is a good man--a very good man; he does not beat you, for he has a kind heart; but ours--oh! he is sharp--hot as fire"--"mkali sana, kana moto." From being hated and thwarted in every possible way by the Arabs and half-castes upon first arrival in Ujiji, he has, through his uniform kindness and mild, pleasant temper, won all hearts. I observed that universal respect was paid to him. Even the Mohammedans never passed his house without calling to pay their compliments, and to say, "The blessing of God rest on you." Each Sunday morning he gathers his little flock around him, and reads prayers and a chapter from the Bible, in a natural, unaffected, and sincere tone; and afterwards delivers a short address in the Kisawahili language, about the subject read to them, which is listened to with interest and attention. There is another point in Livingstone's character about which readers of his books, and students of his travels, would like to know, and that is his ability to withstand the dreadful climate of Central Africa, and the consistent energy with which he follows up his explorations. His consistent energy is native to him and to his race. He is a very fine example of the perseverance, doggedness, and tenacity which characterise the Anglo-Saxon spirit; but his ability to withstand the climate is due not only to the happy constitution with which he was born, but to the strictly temperate life he has ever led. A drunkard and a man of vicious habits could never have withstood the climate of Central Africa. The second day after my arrival in Ujiji I asked the Doctor if he did not feel a desire, sometimes, to visit his country, and take a little rest after his six years' explorations; and the answer he gave me fully reveals the man. Said he: "I should like very much to go home and see my children once again, but I cannot bring my heart to abandon the task I have undertaken, when it is so nearly completed. It only requires six or seven months more to trace the true source that I have discovered with Petherick's branch of the White Nile, or with the Albert N'Yanza of Sir Samuel Baker, which is the lake called by the natives 'Chowambe.' Why should I go home before my task is ended, to have to come back again to do what I can very well do now?" "And why?" I asked, "did you come so far back without finishing the task which you say you have got to do?" "Simply because I was forced. My men would not budge a step forward. They mutinied, and formed a secret resolution--if I still insisted upon going on--to raise a disturbance in the country, and after they had effected it to abandon me; in which case I should have been killed. It was dangerous to go any further. I had explored six hundred miles of the watershed, had traced all the principal streams which discharge their waters into the central line of drainage, but when about starting to explore the last hundred miles the hearts of my people failed them, and they set about frustrating me in every possible way. Now, having returned seven hundred miles to get a new supply of stores, and another escort, I find myself destitute of even the means to live but for a few weeks, and sick in mind and body." Here I may pause to ask any brave man how he would have comported himself in such a crisis. Many would have been in exceeding hurry to get home to tell the news of the continued explorations and discoveries, and to relieve the anxiety of the sorrowing family and friends awaiting their return. Enough surely had been accomplished towards the solution of the problem that had exercised the minds of his scientific associates of the Royal Geograpical Society. It was no negative exploration, it was hard, earnest labor of years, self-abnegation, enduring patience, and exalted fortitude, such as ordinary men fail to exhibit. Suppose Livingstone had hurried to the coast after he had discovered Lake Bangweolo, to tell the news to the geographical world; then had returned to discover Moero, and run away again; then went back once more only to discover Kamolondo, and to race back again. This would not be in accordance with Livingstone's character. He must not only discover the Chambezi, Lake Bangweolo, Luapula River, Lake Moero, Lualaba River, and Lake Kamolondo, but he must still tirelessly urge his steps forward to put the final completion to the grand lacustrine river system. Had he followed the example of ordinary explorers, he would have been running backwards and forwards to tell the news, instead of exploring; and he might have been able to write a volume upon the discovery of each lake, and earn much money thereby. They are no few months' explorations that form the contents of his books. His 'Missionary Travels' embraces a period of sixteen years; his book on the Zambezi, five years; and if the great traveller lives to come home, his third book, the grandest of all, must contain the records of eight or nine years. It is a principle with Livingstone to do well what he undertakes to do; and in the consciousness that he is doing it, despite the yearning for his home which is sometimes overpowering, he finds, to a certain extent, contentment, if not happiness. To men differently constituted, a long residence amongst the savages of Africa would be contemplated with horror, yet Livingstone's mind can find pleasure and food for philosophic studies. The wonders of primeval nature, the great forests and sublime mountains, the perennial streams and sources of the great lakes, the marvels of the earth, the splendors of the tropic sky by day and by night--all terrestrial and celestial phenomena are manna to a man of such self-abnegation and devoted philanthropic spirit. He can be charmed with the primitive simplicity of Ethiop's dusky children, with whom he has spent so many years of his life; he has a sturdy faith in their capabilities; sees virtue in them where others see nothing but savagery; and wherever he has gone among them, he has sought to elevate a people that were apparently forgotten of God and Christian man. One night I took out my note-book, and prepared to take down from his own lips what he had to say about his travels; and unhesitatingly he related his experiences, of which the following is a summary: Dr. David Livingstone left the Island of Zanzibar in March, 1866. On the 7th of the following month he departed from Mikindany Bay for the interior, with an expedition consisting of twelve Sepoys from Bombay, nine men from Johanna, of the Comoro Islands, seven liberated slaves, and two Zambezi men, taking them as an experiment; six camels, three buffaloes, two mules, and three donkeys. He had thus thirty men with him, twelve of whom, viz., the Sepoys, were to act as guards for the Expedition. They were mostly armed with the Enfield rifles presented to the Doctor by the Bombay Government. The baggage of the expedition consisted of ten bales of cloth and two bags of beads, which were to serve as the currency by which they would be enabled to purchase the necessaries of life in the countries the Doctor intended to visit. Besides the cumbrous moneys, they carried several boxes of instruments, such as chronometers, air thermometers, sextant, and artificial horizon, boxes containing clothes, medicines, and personal necessaries. The expedition travelled up the left bank of the Rovuma River, a route as full of difficulties as any that could be chosen. For miles Livingstone and his party had to cut their way with their axes through the dense and almost impenetrable jungles which lined the river's banks. The road was a mere footpath, leading in the most erratic fashion into and through the dense vegetation, seeking the easiest outlet from it without any regard to the course it ran. The pagazis were able to proceed easily enough; but the camels, on account of their enormous height, could not advance a step without the axes of the party clearing the way. These tools of foresters were almost always required; but the advance of the expedition was often retarded by the unwillingness of the Sepoys and Johanna men to work. Soon after the departure of the expedition from the coast, the murmurings and complaints of these men began, and upon every occasion and at every opportunity they evinced a decided hostility to an advance. In order to prevent the progress of the Doctor, and in hopes that it would compel him to return to the coast, these men so cruelly treated the animals that before long there was not one left alive. But as this scheme failed, they set about instigating the natives against the white men, whom they accused most wantonly of strange practices. As this plan was most likely to succeed, and as it was dangerous to have such men with him, the Doctor arrived at the conclusion that it was best to discharge them, and accordingly sent the Sepoys back to the coast; but not without having first furnished them with the means of subsistence on their journey to the coast. These men were such a disreputable set that the natives spoke of them as the Doctor's slaves. One of their worst sins was the custom of giving their guns and ammunition to carry to the first woman or boy they met, whom they impressed for that purpose by such threats or promises as they were totally unable to perform, and unwarranted in making. An hour's marching was sufficient to fatigue them, after which they lay down on the road to bewail their hard fate, and concoct new schemes to frustrate their leader's purposes. Towards night they generally made their appearance at the camping-ground with the looks of half-dead men. Such men naturally made but a poor escort; for, had the party been attacked by a wandering tribe of natives of any strength, the Doctor could have made no defence, and no other alternative would have been left to him but to surrender and be ruined. The Doctor and his little party arrived on the 18th July, 1866, at a village belonging to a chief of the Wahiyou, situate eight days' march south of the Rovuma, and overlooking the watershed of the Lake Nyassa. The territory lying between the Rovuma River and this Wahiyou village was an uninhabited wilderness, during the transit of which Livingstone and his expedition suffered considerably from hunger and desertion of men. Early in August, 1866, the Doctor came to the country of Mponda, a chief who dwelt near the Lake Nyassa. On the road thither, two of the liberated slaves deserted him. Here also, Wekotani, a protege of the Doctor, insisted upon his discharge, alleging as an excuse--an excuse which the Doctor subsequently found to be untrue--that he had found his brother. He also stated that his family lived on the east side of the Nyassa Lake. He further stated that Mponda's favourite wife was his sister. Perceiving that Wekotani was unwilling to go with him further, the Doctor took him to Mponda, who now saw and heard of him for the first time, and, having furnished the ungrateful boy with enough cloth and beads to keep him until his "big brother" should call for him, left him with the chief, after first assuring himself that he would receive honourable treatment from him. The Doctor also gave Wekotanti writing-paper--as he could read and write, being accomplishments acquired at Bombay, where he had been put to school--so that, should he at any time feel disposed, he might write to his English friends, or to himself. The Doctor further enjoined him not to join in any of the slave raids usually made by his countrymen, the men of Nyassa, on their neighbours. Upon finding that his application for a discharge was successful, Wekotani endeavoured to induce Chumah, another protege of the Doctor's, and a companion, or chum, of Wekotani, to leave the Doctor's service and proceed with him, promising, as a bribe, a wife and plenty of pombe from his "big brother." Chumah, upon referring the matter to the Doctor, was advised not to go, as he (the Doctor) strongly suspected that Wekotani wanted only to make him his slave. Chumah wisely withdrew from his tempter. From Mponda's, the Doctor proceeded to the heel of the Nyassa, to the village of a Babisa chief, who required medicine for a skin disease. With his usual kindness, he stayed at this chief's village to treat his malady. While here, a half-caste Arab arrived from the western shore of the lake, and reported that he had been plundered by a band of Mazitu, at a place which the Doctor and Musa, chief of the Johanna men, were very well aware was at least 150 miles north-north-west of where they were then stopping. Musa, however, for his own reasons--which will appear presently--eagerly listened to the Arab's tale, and gave full credence to it. Having well digested its horrible details, he came to the Doctor to give him the full benefit of what he had heard with such willing ears. The traveller patiently listened to the narrative, which lost nothing of its portentous significance through Musa's relation, and then asked Musa if he believed it. "Yes," answered Musa, readily; "he tell me true, true. I ask him good, and he tell me true, true." The Doctor, however, said he did not believe it, for the Mazitu would not have been satisfied with merely plundering a man, they would have murdered him; but suggested, in order to allay the fears of his Moslem subordinate, that they should both proceed to the chief with whom they were staying, who, being a sensible man, would be able to advise them as to the probability or improbability of the tale being correct. Together, they proceeded to the Babisa chief, who, when he had heard the Arab's story, unhesitatingly denounced the Arab as a liar, and his story without the least foundation in fact; giving as a reason that, if the Mazitu had been lately in that vicinity, he should have heard of it soon enough. But Musa broke out with "No, no, Doctor; no, no, no; I no want to go to Mazitu. I no want Mazitu to kill me. I want to see my father, my mother, my child, in Johanna. I want no Mazitu." These are Musa's words _ipsissima verba_. To which the Doctor replied, "I don't want the Mazitu to kill me either; but, as you are afraid of them, I promise to go straight west until we get far past the beat of the Mazitu." Musa was not satisfied, but kept moaning and sorrowing, saying, "If we had two hundred guns with us I would go; but our small party of men they will attack by night, and kill all." The Doctor repeated his promise, "But I will not go near them; I will go west." As soon as he turned his face westward, Musa and the Johanna men ran away in a body. The Doctor says, in commenting upon Musa's conduct, that he felt strongly tempted to shoot Musa and another ringleader, but was, nevertheless, glad that he did not soil his hands with their vile blood. A day or two afterwards, another of his men--Simon Price by name--came to the Doctor with the same tale about the Mazitu, but, compelled by the scant number of his people to repress all such tendencies to desertion and faint-heartedness, the Doctor silenced him at once, and sternly forbade him to utter the name of the Mazitu any more. Had the natives not assisted him, he must have despaired of ever being able to penetrate the wild and unexplored interior which he was now about to tread. "Fortunately," as the Doctor says with unction, "I was in a country now, after leaving the shores of Nyassa, which the foot of the slave-trader has not trod; it was a new and virgin land, and of course, as I have always found in such cases, the natives were really good and hospitable, and for very small portions of cloth my baggage was conveyed from village to village by them." In many other ways the traveller, in his extremity, was kindly treated by the yet unsophisticated and innocent natives. On leaving this hospitable region in the early part of December, 1866, the Doctor entered a country where the Mazitu had exercised their customary marauding propensities. The land was swept clean of provisions and cattle, and the people had emigrated to other countries, beyond the bounds of those ferocious plunderers. Again the Expedition was besieged by pinching hunger from which they suffered; they had recourse to the wild fruits which some parts of the country furnished. At intervals the condition of the hard-pressed band was made worse by the heartless desertion of some of its members, who more than once departed with the Doctor's personal kit, changes of clothes, linen, &c. With more or less misfortunes constantly dogging his footsteps, he traversed in safety the countries of the Babisa, Bobemba, Barungu, Ba-ulungu, and Lunda. In the country of Lunda lives the famous Cazembe, who was first made known to Europeans by Dr. Lacerda, the Portuguese traveller. Cazembe is a most intelligent prince; he is a tall, stalwart man, who wears a peculiar kind of dress, made of crimson print, in the form of a prodigious kilt. In this state dress, King Cazembe received Dr. Livingstone, surrounded by his chiefs and body-guards. A chief, who had been deputed by the King and elders to discover all about the white man, then stood up before the assembly, and in a loud voice gave the result of the inquiry he had instituted. He had heard that the white man had come to look for waters, for rivers, and seas; though he could not understand what the white man could want with such things, he had no doubt that the object was good. Then Cazembe asked what the Doctor proposed doing, and where he thought of going. The Doctor replied that he had thought of proceeding south, as he had heard of lakes and rivers being in that direction. Cazembe asked, "What can you want to go there for? The water is close here. There is plenty of large water in this neighbourhood." Before breaking up the assembly, Cazembe gave orders to let the white man go where he would through his country undisturbed and unmolested. He was the first Englishman he had seen, he said, and he liked him. Shortly after his introduction to the King, the Queen entered the large house, surrounded by a body-guard of Amazons with spears. She was a fine, tall, handsome young woman, and evidently thought she was about to make an impression upon the rustic white man, for she had clothed herself after a most royal fashion, and was armed with a ponderous spear. But her appearance--so different from what the Doctor had imagined--caused him to laugh, which entirely spoiled the effect intended; for the laugh of the Doctor was so contagious, that she herself was the first to imitate it, and the Amazons, courtier-like, followed suit. Much disconcerted by this, the Queen ran back, followed by her obedient damsels--a retreat most undignified and unqueenlike, compared with her majestic advent into the Doctor's presence. But Livingstone will have much to say about his reception at this court, and about this interesting King and Queen; and who can so well relate the scenes he witnessed, and which belong exclusively to him, as he himself? Soon after his arrival in the country of Lunda, or Londa, and before he had entered the district ruled over by Cazembe, he had crossed a river called the Chambezi, which was quite an important stream. The similarity of the name with that large and noble river south, which will be for ever connected with his name, misled Livingstone at that time, and he, accordingly, did not pay to it the attention it deserved, believing that the Chambezi was but the head-waters of the Zambezi, and consequently had no bearing or connection with the sources of the river of Egypt, of which he was in search. His fault was in relying too implicitly upon the correctness of Portuguese information. This error it cost him many months of tedious labour and travel to rectify. From the beginning of 1867--the time of his arrival at Cazembe's--till the middle of March, 1869--the time of his arrival at Ujiji--he was mostly engaged in correcting the errors and misrepresentations of the Portuguese travellers. The Portuguese, in speaking of the River Chambezi, invariably spoke of it as "our own Zambezi,"--that is, the Zambezi which flows through the Portuguese possessions of the Mozambique. "In going to Cazembe from Nyassa," said they, "you will cross our own Zambezi." Such positive and reiterated information--given not only orally, but in their books and maps--was naturally confusing. When the Doctor perceived that what he saw and what they described were at variance, out of a sincere wish to be correct, and lest he might have been mistaken himself, he started to retravel the ground he had travelled before. Over and over again he traversed the several countries watered by the several rivers of the complicated water system, like an uneasy spirit. Over and over again he asked the same questions from the different peoples he met, until he was obliged to desist, lest they might say, "The man is mad; he has got water on the brain!" But his travels and tedious labours in Lunda and the adjacent countries have established beyond doubt--first, that the Chambezi is a totally distinct river from the Zambezi of the Portuguese; and, secondly, that the Chambezi, starting from about latitude 11 degrees south, is no other than the most southerly feeder of the great Nile; thus giving that famous river a length of over 2,000 miles of direct latitude; making it, second to the Mississippi, the longest river in the world. The real and true name of the Zambezi is Dombazi. When Lacerda and his Portuguese successors, coming to Cazembe, crossed the Chambezi, and heard its name, they very naturally set it down as "our own Zambezi," and, without further inquiry, sketched it as running in that direction. During his researches in that region, so pregnant in discoveries, Livingstone came to a lake lying north-east of Cazembe, which the natives call Liemba, from the country of that name which bordered it on the east and south. In tracing the lake north, he found it to be none other than the Tanganika, or the south-eastern extremity of it, which looks, on the Doctor's map, very much like an outline of Italy. The latitude of the southern end of this great body of water is about 8 degrees 42 minutes south, which thus gives it a length, from north to south, of 360 geographical miles. From the southern extremity of the Tanganika he crossed Marungu, and came in sight of Lake Moero. Tracing this lake, which is about sixty miles in length, to its southern head, he found a river, called the Luapula, entering it from that direction. Following the Luapula south, he found it issue from the large lake of Bangweolo, which is nearly as large in superficial area as the Tanganika. In exploring for the waters which discharged themselves into the lake, he found that by far the most important of these feeders was the Chambezi; so that he had thus traced the Chambezi from its source to Lake Bangweolo, and the issue from its northern head, under the name of Luapula, and found it enter Lake Moero. Again he returned to Cazembe's, well satisfied that the river running north through three degrees of latitude could not be the river running south under the name of Zambezi, though there might be a remarkable resemblance in their names. At Cazembe's he found an old white-bearded half-caste named Mohammed bin Sali, who was kept as a kind of prisoner at large by the King because of certain suspicious circumstances attending his advent and stay in the country. Through Livingstone's influence Mohammed bin Sali obtained his release. On the road to Ujiji he had bitter cause to regret having exerted himself in the half-caste's behalf. He turned out to be a most ungrateful wretch, who poisoned the minds of the Doctor's few followers, and ingratiated himself with them by selling the favours of his concubines to them, by which he reduced them to a kind of bondage under him. The Doctor was deserted by all but two, even faithful Susi and Chumah deserted him for the service of Mohammed bin Sali. But they soon repented, and returned to their allegiance. From the day he had the vile old man in his company manifold and bitter misfortunes followed the Doctor up to his arrival at Ujiji in March, 1869. From the date of his arrival until the end of June, 1869, he remained at Ujiji, whence he dated those letters which, though the outside world still doubted his being alive, satisfied the minds of the Royal Geographical people, and his intimate friends, that he still existed, and that Musa'a tale was the false though ingenious fabrication of a cowardly deserter. It was during this time that the thought occurred to him of sailing around the Lake Tanganika, but the Arabs and natives were so bent upon fleecing him that, had he undertaken it, the remainder or his goods would not have enabled him to explore the central line of drainage, the initial point of which he found far south of Cazembe's in about latitude 11 degrees, in the river called Chambezi. In the days when tired Captain Burton was resting in Ujiji, after his march from the coast near Zanzibar, the land to which Livingstone, on his departure from Ujiji, bent his steps was unknown to the Arabs save by vague report. Messrs. Burton and Speke never heard of it, it seems. Speke, who was the geographer of Burton's Expedition, heard of a place called Urua, which he placed on his map, according to the general direction indicated by the Arabs; but the most enterprising of the Arabs, in their search after ivory, only touched the frontiers of Rua, as, the natives and Livingstone call it; for Rua is an immense country, with a length of six degrees of latitude, and as yet an undefined breadth from east to west. At the end of June, 1869, Livingstone quitted Ujiji and crossed over to Uguhha, on the western shore, for his last and greatest series of explorations; the result of which was the further discovery of a lake of considerable magnitude connected with Moero by the large river called the Lualaba, and which was a continuation of the chain of lakes he had previously discovered. From the port of Uguhha he set off, in company with a body of traders, in an almost direct westerly course, for the country of Urua. Fifteen days' march brought them to Bambarre, the first important ivory depot in Manyema, or, as the natives pronounce it, Manyuema. For nearly six months he was detained at Bambarre from ulcers in the feet, which discharged bloody ichor as soon as he set them on the ground. When recovered, he set off in a northerly direction, and after several days came to a broad lacustrine river, called the Lualaba, flowing northward and westward, and in some places southward, in a most confusing way. The river was from one to three miles broad. By exceeding pertinacity he contrived to follow its erratic course, until he saw the Lualaba enter the narrow, long lake of Kamolondo, in about latitude 6 degrees 30 minutes. Retracing this to the south, he came to the point where he had seen the Luapula enter Lake Moero. One feels quite enthusiastic when listening to Livingstone's description of the beauties of Moero scenery. Pent in on all sides by high mountains, clothed to the edges with the rich vegetation of the tropics, the Moero discharges its superfluous waters through a deep rent in the bosom of the mountains. The impetuous and grand river roars through the chasm with the thunder of a cataract, but soon after leaving its confined and deep bed it expands into the calm and broad Lualaba, stretching over miles of ground. After making great bends west and south-west, and then curving northward, it enters Kamolondo. By the natives it is called the Lualaba, but the Doctor, in order to distinguish it from other rivers of the same name, has given it the name of "Webb's River," after Mr. Webb, the wealthy proprietor of Newstead Abbey, whom the Doctor distinguishes as one of his oldest and most consistent friends. Away to the south-west from Kamolondo is another large lake, which discharges its waters by the important River Loeki, or Lomami, into the great Lualaba. To this lake, known as Chebungo by the natives, Dr. Livingstone has given the name of "Lincoln," to be hereafter distinguished on maps and in books as Lake Lincoln, in memory of Abraham Lincoln, our murdered President. This was done from the vivid impression produced on his mind by hearing a portion of his inauguration speech read from an English pulpit, which related to the causes that induced him to issue his Emancipation Proclamation, by which memorable deed 4,000,000 of slaves were for ever freed. To the memory of the man whose labours on behalf of the negro race deserves the commendation of all good men, Livingstone has contributed a monument more durable than brass or stone. Entering Webb's River from the south-south-west, a little north of Kamolondo, is a large river called Lufira, but the streams, that discharge themselves from the watershed into the Lualaba are so numerous that the Doctor's map would not contain them, so he has left all out except the most important. Continuing his way north, tracing the Lualaba through its manifold and crooked curves as far as latitude 4 degrees south, he came to where he heard of another lake, to the north, into which it ran. But here you may come to a dead halt, and read what lies beyond this spot thus.... This was the furthermost point, whence he was compelled to return on the weary road to Ujiji, a distance of 700 miles. In this brief sketch of Dr. Livingstone's wonderful travels it is to be hoped the most superficial reader, as well as the student of geography, comprehends this grand system of lakes connected together by Webb's River. To assist him, let him glance at the map accompanying this book. He will then have a fair idea of what Dr. Livingstone has been doing during these long years, and what additions he has made to the study of African geography. That this river, distinguished under several titles, flowing from one lake into another in a northerly direction, with all its great crooked bends and sinuosities, is the Nile--the true Nile--the Doctor has not the least doubt. For a long time he entertained great scepticism, because of its deep bends and curves west, and south-west even; but having traced it from its head waters, the Chambezi, through 7 degrees of latitude--that is, from 11 degrees S. to lat. 4 degrees N.--he has been compelled to come to the conclusion that it can be no other river than the Nile. He had thought it was the Congo; but has discovered the sources of the Congo to be the Kassai and the Kwango, two rivers which rise on the western side of the Nile watershed, in about the latitude of Bangweolo; and he was told of another river called the Lubilash, which rose from the north, and ran west. But the Lualaba, the Doctor thinks, cannot be the Congo, from its great size and body, and from its steady and continued flow northward through a broad and extensive valley, bounded by enormous mountains westerly and easterly. The altitude of the most northerly point to which the Doctor traced the wonderful river was a little in excess of 2,000 feet; so that, though Baker makes out his lake to be 2,700 feet above the sea, yet the Bahr Ghazal, through which Petherick's branch of the White Nile issues into the Nile, is but 2,000 feet; in which case there is a possibility that the Lualaba may be none other than Petherick's branch. It is well known that trading stations for ivory have been established for about 500 miles up Petherick's branch. We must remember this fact when told that Gondokoro, in lat. 4 degrees N., is 2,000 feet above the sea, and lat. 4 degrees S., where the halt was made, is only a little over 2,000 feet above the sea. That the two rivers said to be 2,000 feet above the sea, separated from each other by 8 degrees of latitude, are one and the same river, may among some men be regarded as a startling statement. But we must restrain mere expressions of surprise, and take into consideration that this mighty and broad Lualaba is a lacustrine river broader than the Mississippi; that at intervals the body of water forms extensive lakes; then, contracting into a broad river, it again forms a lake, and so on, to lat. 4 degrees; and even beyond this point the Doctor hears of a large lake again north. We must wait also until the altitudes of the two rivers, the Lualaba, where the Doctor halted, and the southern point on the Bahr Ghazal, where Petherick has been, are known with perfect accuracy. Now, for the sake of argument, suppose we give this nameless lake a length of 6 degrees of latitude, as it may be the one discovered by Piaggia, the Italian traveller, from which Petherick's branch of the White Nile issues out through reedy marshes, into the Bahr Ghazal, thence into the White Nile, south of Gondokoro. By this method we can suppose the rivers one; for if the lake extends over so many degrees of latitude, the necessity of explaining the differences of altitude that must naturally exist between two points of a river 8 degrees of latitude apart, would be obviated. Also, Livingstone's instruments for observation and taking altitudes may have been in error; and this is very likely to have been the case, subjected as they have been to rough handling during nearly six years of travel. Despite the apparent difficulty of the altitude, there is another strong reason for believing Webb's River, or the Lualaba, to be the Nile. The watershed of this river, 600 miles of which Livingstone has travelled, is drained from a valley which lies north and south between lofty eastern and western ranges. This valley, or line of drainage, while it does not receive the Kassai and the Kwango, receives rivers flowing from a great distance west, for instance, the important tributaries Lufira and Lomami, and large rivers from the east, such as the Lindi and Luamo; and, while the most intelligent Portuguese travellers and traders state that the Kassai, the Kwango, and Lubilash are the head waters of the Congo River, no one has yet started the supposition that the grand river flowing north, and known by the natives as the Lualaba, is the Congo. This river may be the Congo, or, perhaps, the Niger. If the Lualaba is only 2,000 feet above the sea, and the Albert N'Yanza 2,700 feet, the Lualaba cannot enter that lake. If the Bahr Ghazal does not extend by an arm for eight degrees above Gondokoro, then the Lualaba cannot be the Nile. But it would be premature to dogmatise on the subject. Livingstone will clear up the point himself; and if he finds it to be the Congo, will be the first to admit his error. Livingstone admits the Nile sources have not been found, though he has traced the Lualaba through seven degrees of latitude flowing north; and, though he has not a particle of doubt of its being the Nile, not yet can the Nile question be said to be resolved and ended. For two reasons: 1. He has heard of the existence of four fountains, two of which gave birth to a river flowing north, Webb's River, or the Lualaba, and to a river flowing south, which is the Zambezi. He has repeatedly heard of these fountains from the natives. Several times he has been within 100 and 200 miles from them, but something always interposed to prevent his going to see them. According to those who have seen them, they rise on either side of a mound or level, which contains no stones. Some have called it an ant-hill. One of these fountains is said to be so large that a man, standing on one side, cannot be seen from the other. These fountains must be discovered, and their position taken. The Doctor does not suppose them to be south of the feeders of Lake Bangweolo. In his letter to the 'Herald' he says "These four full-grown gushing fountains, rising so near each other, and giving origin to four large rivers, answer in a certain degree to the description given of the unfathomable fountains of the Nile, by the secretary of Minerva, in the city of Sais, in Egypt, to the father of all travellers--Herodotus." For the information of such readers as may not have the original at hand, I append the following from Cary's translation of Herodotus: (II.28) (Jul 2001 The History of Herodotus V1 by Herodotus; Macaulay) *** With respect to the sources of the Nile, no man of all the Egyptians, Libyans, or Grecians, with whom I have conversed, ever pretended to know anything, except the registrar* of Minerva's *the secretary of the treasury of the goddess Neith, or Athena as Herodotus calls her: ho grammatiste:s to:n hiro:n xre:mato:n te:s Athe:naie:s> treasury at Sais, in Egypt. He, indeed, seemed to be trifling with me when he said he knew perfectly well; yet his account was as follows: "That there are two mountains, rising into a sharp peak, situated between the city of Syene, in Thebais, and Elephantine. The names of these mountains are the one Crophi, the other Mophi; that the sources of the Nile, which are bottomless, flow from between these mountains and that half of the water flows over Egypt and to the north, the other half over Ethiopia and the south. That the fountains of the Nile are bottomless, he said, Psammitichus, king of Egypt, proved by experiment: for, having caused a line to be twisted many thousand fathoms in length, he let it down, but could not find a bottom." Such, then, was the opinion the registrar gave, if, indeed, he spoke the real truth; proving, in my opinion, that there are strong whirlpools and an eddy here, so that the water beating against the rocks, a sounding-line, when let down, cannot reach the bottom. I was unable to learn anything more from any one else. But thus much I learnt by carrying my researches as far as possible, having gone and made my own observations as far as Elephantine, and beyond that obtaining information from hearsay. As one ascends the river, above the city of Elephantine, the country is steep; here, therefore; it is necessary to attach a rope on both sides of a boat, as one does with an ox in a plough, and so proceed; but if the rope should happen to break, the boat is carried away by the force of the stream. This kind of country lasts for a four-days' passage, and the Nile here winds as much as the Maeander. There are twelve schoeni, which it is necessary to sail through in this manner; and after that you will come to a level plain, where the Nile flows round an island; its name is Tachompso. Ethiopians inhabit the country immediately above Elephantine, and one half of the island; the other half is inhabited by Egyptians. Near to this island lies a vast lake, on the borders of which Ethiopian nomades dwell. After sailing through this lake you will come to the channel of the Nile, which flows into it: then you will have to land and travel forty days by the side of the river, for sharp rocks rise in the Nile, and there are many sunken ones, through which it is not possible to navigate a boat. Having passed this country in the forty days, you must go on board another boat, and sail for twelve days; and then you will arrive at a large city, called Meroe; this city is said to be the capital of all Ethiopia. The inhabitants worship no other gods than Jupiter and Bacchus; but these they honour with great magnificence. They have also an oracle of Jupiter; and they make war whenever that god bids them by an oracular warning, and against whatever country he bids them. Sailing from this city, you will arrive at the country of the Automoli, in a space of time equal to that which you took in coming from Elephantine to the capital of the Ethiopians. These Automoli are called by the name of Asmak, which, in the language of Greece, signifies "those that stand at the left hand of the king." These, to the number of two hundred and forty thousand of the Egyptian war-tribe, revolted to the Ethiopians on the following occasion. In the reign of King Psammitichus garrisons were stationed at Elephantine against the Ethiopians, and another at the Pelusian Daphnae against the Arabians and Syrians, and another at Marea against Libya; and even in my time garrisons of the Persians are stationed in the same places as they were in the time of Psammitichus, for they maintain guards at Elephantine and Daphnae. Now, these Egyptians, after they had been on duty three years, were not relieved; therefore, having consulted together and come to an unanimous resolution, they all revolted from Psammitichus, and went to Ethiopia. Psammitichus, hearing of this, pursued them; and when he overtook them he entreated them by many arguments, and adjured them not to forsake the gods of their fathers, and their children and wives But one of them is reported to have uncovered [ ] and to have said, that wheresoever these were there they ["which it is said that one of them pointed to his privy member and said that wherever this was, there would they have both children and wives"--Macaulay tr.; published edition censors] should find both children and wives." These men, when they arrived in Ethiopia, offered their services to the king of the Ethiopians, who made them the following recompense. There were certain Ethiopians disaffected towards him; these he bade them expel, and take possession of their land. By the settlement of these men among the Ethiopians, the Ethiopians became more civilized, and learned the manners of the Egyptians. Now, for a voyage and land journey of four months, the Nile is known, in addition to the part f the stream that is in Egypt; for, upon computation, so many months are known to be spent by a person who travels from Elephantine to the Automoli. This river flows from the west and the setting of the sun; but beyond this no one is able to speak with certainty, for the rest of the country is desert by reason of the excessive heat. But I have heard the following account from certain Cyrenaeans, who say that they went to the oracle of Ammon, and had a conversation with Etearchus, King of the Ammonians, and that, among other subjects, they happened to discourse about the Nile--that nobody knew its sources; whereupon Etearchus said that certain Nasamonians once came to him--this nation is Lybian, and inhabits the Syrtis, and the country for no great distance eastward of the Syrtis--and that when these Nasamonians arrived, and were asked if they could give any further formation touching the deserts of Libya, they answered, that there were some daring youths amongst them, sons of powerful men; and that they, having reached man's estate, formed many other extravagant plans, and, moreover, chose five of their number by lot to explore the deserts of Libya, to see if they could make any further discovery than those who had penetrated the farthest. (For, as respects the parts of Libya along the Northern Sea, beginning from Egypt to the promontory of Solois, where is the extremity of Libya, Libyans and various nations of Libyans reach all along it, except those parts which are occupied by Grecians and Phoenicians; but as respects the parts above the sea, and those nations which reach down to the sea, in the upper parts Libya is infested by wild beasts; and all beyond that is sand, dreadfully short of water, and utterly desolate.) They further related, "that when the young men deputed by their companions set out, well furnished with water and provisions, they passed first through the inhabited country; and having traversed this, they came to the region infested by wild beasts; and after this they crossed the desert, making their way towards the west; and when they had traversed much sandy ground, during a journey of many days, they at length saw some trees growing in a plain; and that they approached and began to gather the fruit that grew on the trees; and while they were gathering, some diminutive men, less than men of middle stature, came up, and having seized them carried them away; and that the Nasamonians did not at all understand their language, nor those who carried them off the language of the Nasamonians. However, they conducted them through vast morasses, and when they had passed these, they came to a city in which all the inhabitants were of the same size as their conductors, and black in colour: and by the city flowed a great river, running from the west to the east, and that crocodiles were seen in it." Thus far I have set forth the account of Etearchus the Ammonian; to which may be added, as the Cyrenaeans assured me, "that he said the Nasamonians all returned safe to their own country, and that the men whom they came to were all necromancers." Etearchus also conjectured that this river, which flows by their city, is the Nile; and reason so evinces: for the Nile flows from Libya, and intersects it in the middle; and (as I conjecture, inferring things unknown from things known) it sets out from a point corresponding with the Ister. For the Ister, beginning from the Celts, and the city of Pyrene, divides Europe in its course; but the Celts are beyond the pillars of Hercules, and border on the territories of the Cynesians, who lie in the extremity of Europe to the westward; and the Ister terminates by flowing through all Europe into the Euxine Sea, where a Milesian colony is settled in Istria. Now the Ister, as it flows through a well-peopled country, is generally known; but no one is able to speak about the sources of the Nile, because Libya, through which it flows, is uninhabited and desolate. Respecting this stream, therefore, as far as I was able to reach by inquiry, I have already spoken. It however discharges itself into Egypt; and Egypt lies, as near as may be, opposite to the mountains of Cilicia; from whence to Sinope, on the Euxine Sea, is a five days' journey in a straight line to an active man; and Sinope is opposite to the Ister, where it discharges itself into the sea. So I think that the Nile, traversing the whole of Libya, may be properly compared with the Ister. Such, then, is the account that I am able to give respecting the Nile. *** <end of Herodotus's account) *** 2. Webb's River must be traced to its connection with some portion of the old Nile. When these two things have been accomplished, then, and not till then, can the mystery of the Nile be explained. The two countries through which the marvellous lacustrine river, the Lualaba, flows, with its manifold lakes and broad expanse of water, are Rua (the Uruwwa of Speke) and Manyuema. For the first time Europe is made aware that between the Tanganika and the known sources of the Congo there exist teeming millions of the negro race, who never saw, or heard of the white people who make such a noisy and busy stir outside of Africa. Upon the minds of those who had the good fortune to see the first specimen of these remarkable white races in Dr. Livingstone, he seems to have made a favourable impression, though, through misunderstanding his object, and coupling him with the Arabs, who make horrible work there, his life was sought after more than once. These two extensive countries, Rua and Manyuema, are populated by true heathens, governed, not as the sovereignties of Karagwah, Urundi, and Uganda, by despotic kings, but each village by its own sultan or lord. Thirty miles outside of their own immediate settlements, the most intelligent of these small chiefs seem to know nothing. Thirty miles from the Lualaba, there were but few people who had ever heard of the great river. Such ignorance among the natives of their own country naturally increased the labours of Livingstone. Compared with these, all tribes and nations in Africa with whom Livingstone came in contact may be deemed civilized, yet, in the arts of home manufacture, these wild people of Manyuema were far superior to any he had seen. Where other tribes and nations contented themselves with hides and skins of animals thrown negligently over their shoulders, the people of Manyuema manufactured a cloth from fine grass, which may favorably compare with the finest grass cloth of India. They also know the art of dyeing them in various colours--black, yellow, and purple. The Wangwana, or freed-men of Zanzibar, struck with the beauty of the fabric, eagerly exchange their cotton cloths for fine grass cloth; and on almost every black man from Manyuema I have seen this native cloth converted into elegantly made damirs (Arabic)--short jackets. These countries are also very rich in ivory. The fever for going to Manyuema to exchange tawdry beads for its precious tusks is of the same kind as that which impelled men to go to the gulches and placers of California, Colorado, Montana, and Idaho; after nuggets to Australia, and diamonds to Cape Colony. Manyuema is at present the El Dorado of the Arab and the Wamrima tribes. It is only about four years since that the first Arab returned from Manyuema, with such wealth of ivory, and reports about the fabulous quantities found there, that ever since the old beaten tracks of Karagwah, Uganda, Ufipa, and Marungu have been comparatively deserted. The people of Manyuema, ignorant of the value of the precious article, reared their huts upon ivory stanchions. Ivory pillars were common sights in Manyuema, and, hearing of these, one can no longer, wonder at the ivory palace of Solomon. For generations they have used ivory tusks as door-posts and supports to the eaves, until they had become perfectly rotten and worthless. But the advent of the Arabs soon taught them the value of the article. It has now risen considerably in price, though still fabulously cheap. At Zanzibar the value of ivory per frasilah of 35 lbs. weight is from $50 to $60, according to its quality. In Unyanyembe it is about $1-10 per pound, but in Manyuema, it may be purchased for from half a cent to 14 cent's worth of copper per pound of ivory. The Arabs, however, have the knack of spoiling markets by their rapacity and cruelty. With muskets, a small party of Arabs is invincible against such people as those of Manyuema, who, until lately, never heard the sound of a gun. The discharge of a musket inspires mortal terror in them, and it is almost impossible to induce them to face the muzzle of a gun. They believe that the Arabs have stolen the lightning, and that against such people the bow and arrow can have little effect. They are by no means devoid of courage, and they have often declared that, were it not for the guns, not one Arab would leave the country alive; this tends to prove that they would willingly engage in fight with the strangers who had made themselves so detestable, were it not that the startling explosion of gunpowder inspires them with terror. Into what country soever the Arabs enter, they contrive to render their name and race abominated. But the mainspring of it all is not the Arab's nature, colour, or name, but simply the slave-trade. So long as the slave-trade is permitted to be kept up at Zanzibar, so long will these otherwise enterprising people, the Arabs, kindle gainst them the hatred of the natives throughout Africa. On the main line of travel from Zanzibar into the interior of Africa these acts of cruelty are unknown, for the very good reason that the natives having been armed with guns, and taught how to use those weapons, are by no means loth to do so whenever an opportunity presents itself. When, too late, they have perceived their folly in selling guns to the natives, the Arabs now begin to vow vengeance on the person who will in future sell a gun to a native. But they are all guilty of the same mistake, and it is strange they did not perceive that it was folly when they were doing so. In former days the Arab, when protected by his slave escort, armed with guns, could travel through Useguhha, Urori, Ukonongo, Ufipa, Karagwah, Unyoro, and Uganda, with only a stick in his hand; now, however, it is impossible for him or any one else to do so. Every step he takes, armed or unarmed, is fraught with danger. The Waseguhha, near the coast, detain him, and demand the tribute, or give him the option of war; entering Ugogo, he is subjected every day to the same oppressive demand, or to the fearful alternative. The Wanyamwezi also show their readiness to take the same advantage; the road to Karagwah is besieged with difficulties; the terrible Mirambo stands in the way, defeats their combined forces with ease, and makes raids even to the doors of their houses in Unyanyembe; and should they succeed in passing Mirambo, a chief--Swaruru--stands before them who demands tribute by the bale, and against whom it is useless to contend. These remarks have reference to the slave-trade inaugurated in Manyuema by the Arabs. Harassed on the road between Zanzibar and Unyanyembe by minatory natives, who with bloody hands are ready to avenge the slightest affront, the Arabs have refrained from kidnapping between the Tanganika and the sea; but in Manyuema, where the natives are timid, irresolute, and divided into small weak tribes, they recover their audacity, and exercise their kidnapping propensities unchecked. The accounts which the Doctor brings from that new region are most deplorable. He was an unwilling spectator of a horrible deed--a massacre committed on the inhabitants of a populous district who had assembled in the market-place on the banks of the Lualaba, as they had been accustomed to do for ages. It seems that the Wamanyuema are very fond of marketing, believing it to be the summum bonum of human enjoyment. They find endless pleasure in chaffering with might and main for the least mite of their currency--the last bead; and when they gain the point to which their peculiar talents are devoted, they feel intensely happy. The women are excessively fond of this marketing, and, as they are very beautiful, the market place must possess considerable attractions for the male sex. It was on such a day amidst such a scene, that Tagamoyo, a half-caste Arab, with his armed slave escort, commenced an indiscriminate massacre by firing volley after volley into the dense mass of human beings. It is supposed that there were about 2,000 present, and at the first sound of the firing these poor people all made a rush for their canoes. In the fearful hurry to avoid being shot, the canoes were paddled away by the first fortunate few who got possession of them; those that were not so fortunate sprang into the deep waters of the Lualaba, and though many of them became an easy prey to the voracious crocodiles which swarmed to the scene, the majority received their deaths from the bullets of the merciless Tagamoyo and his villanous band. The Doctor believes, as do the Arabs themselves, that about 400 people, mostly women and children, lost their lives, while many more were made slaves. This outrage is only one of many such he has unwillingly witnessed, and he is utterly unable to describe the feelings of loathing he feels for the inhuman perpetrators. Slaves from Manyuema command a higher price than those of any other country, because of their fine forms and general docility. The women, the Doctor said repeatedly, are remarkably pretty creatures, and have nothing, except the hair, in common with the negroes of the West Coast. They are of very light colour, have fine noses, well-cut and not over-full lips, while the prognathous jaw is uncommon. These women are eagerly sought after as wives by the half-castes of the East Coast, and even the pure Omani Arabs do not disdain to take them in marriage. To the north of Manyuema, Livingstone came to the light-complexioned race, of the colour of Portuguese, or our own Louisiana quadroons, who are very fine people, and singularly remarkable for commercial "'cuteness" and sagacity. The women are expert divers for oysters, which are found in great abundance in the Lualaba. Rua, at a place called Katanga, is rich in copper. The copper-mines of this place have been worked for ages. In the bed of a stream, gold has been found, washed down in pencil-shaped pieces or in particles as large as split peas. Two Arabs have gone thither to prospect for this metal; but, as they are ignorant of the art of gulch-mining, it is scarcely possible that they will succeed. From these highly important and interesting discoveries, Dr. Livingstone was turned back, when almost on the threshold of success, by the positive refusal of his men to accompany him further. They were afraid to go on unless accompanied by a large force of men; and, as these were not procurable in Manyuema, the Doctor reluctantly turned his face towards Ujiji. It was a long and weary road back. The journey had now no interest for him. He had travelled the road before when going westward, full of high hopes and aspirations, impatient to reach the goal which promised him rest from his labors--now, returning unsuccessful, baffled, and thwarted, when almost in sight of the end, and having to travel the same path back on foot, with disappointed expectations and defeated hopes preying on his mind, no wonder that the old brave spirit almost succumbed, and the strong constitution almost went to wreck. Livingstone arrived at Ujiji, October 16th, almost at death's door. On the way he had been trying to cheer himself up, since he had found it impossible to contend against the obstinacy of his men, with, "It won't take long; five or six months more; it matters not since it cannot be helped. I have got my goods in Ujiji, and can hire other people, and make a new start again." These are the words and hopes by which he tried to delude himself into the idea that all would be right yet; but imagine the shock he must have suffered, when he found that the man to whom was entrusted his goods for safe keeping had sold every bale for ivory. The evening of the day Livingstone had returned to Ujiji, Susi and Chuma, two of his most faithful men, were seen crying bitterly. The Doctor asked of them what ailed them, and was then informed, for the first time, of the evil tidings that awaited him. Said they, "All our things are sold, sir; Sherif has sold everything for ivory." Later in the evening, Sherif came to see him, and shamelessly offered his hand, but Livingstone repulsed him, saying he could not shake hands with a thief. As an excuse, Sherif said he had divined on the Koran, and that this had told him the Hakim (Arabic for Doctor) was dead. Livingstone was now destitute; he had just enough to keep him and his men alive for about a month, when he would be forced to beg from the Arabs. The Doctor further stated, that when Speke gives the altitude of the Tanganika at only 1,800 feet above the sea, Speke must have fallen into that error by a frequent writing of the Anne Domini, a mere slip of the pen; for the altitude, as he makes it out, is 2,800 feet by boiling point, and a little over 3,000 feet by barometer. The Doctor's complaints were many because slaves were sent to him, in charge of goods, after he had so often implored the people at Zanzibar to send him freemen. A very little effort on the part of those entrusted with the despatch of supplies to him might have enabled them to procure good and faithful freemen; but if they contented themselves, upon the receipt of a letter from Dr. Livingstone, with sending to Ludha Damji for men, it is no longer a matter of wonder that dishonest and incapable slaves were sent forward. It is no new fact that the Doctor has discovered when he states that a negro freeman is a hundred times more capable and trustworthy than a slave. Centuries ago Eumaeus, the herdsman, said to Ulysses: Jove fixed it certain, that whatever day Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away. We passed several happy days at Ujiji, and it was time we were now preparing for our cruise on the Tanganika. Livingstone was improving every day under the different diet which my cook furnished him. I could give him no such suppers as that which Jupiter and Mercury received at the cottage of Baucis and Philemon. We had no berries of chaste Minerva, pickled cherries, endive, radishes, dried figs, dates, fragrant apples, and grapes; but we had cheese, and butter which I made myself, new-laid eggs, chickens, roast mutton, fish from the lake, rich curds and cream, wine from the Guinea-palm, egg-plants, cucumbers, sweet potatoes, pea-nuts, and beans, white honey from Ukaranga, luscious singwe--a plum-like fruit--from the forests of Ujiji, and corn scones and dampers, in place of wheaten bread. During the noontide heats we sat under our veranda discussing our various projects, and in the early morning and evening we sought the shores of the lake--promenading up and down the beach to breathe the cool breezes which ruffled the surface of the water, and rolled the unquiet surf far up on the smooth and whitened shore. It was the dry season, and we had most lovely weather; the temperature never was over 80 degrees in the shade. The market-place overlooking the broad silver water afforded us amusement and instruction. Representatives of most of the tribes dwelling near the lake were daily found there. There were the agricultural and pastoral Wajiji, with their flocks and herds; there were the fishermen from Ukaranga and Kaole, from beyond Bangwe, and even from Urundi, with their whitebait, which they called dogara, the silurus, the perch, and other fish; there were the palm-oil merchants, principally from Ujiji and Urundi, with great five-gallon pots full of reddish oil, of the consistency of butter; there were the salt merchants from the salt-plains of Uvinza and Uhha; there were the ivory merchants from Uvira and Usowa; there were the canoe-makers from Ugoma and Urundi; there were the cheap-Jack pedlers from Zanzibar, selling flimsy prints, and brokers exchanging blue mutunda beads for sami-sami, and sungomazzi, and sofi. The sofi beads are like pieces of thick clay-pipe stem about half an inch long, and are in great demand here. Here were found Waguhha, Wamanyuema, Wagoma, Wavira, Wasige, Warundi, Wajiji, Waha, Wavinza, Wasowa, Wangwana, Wakawendi, Arabs, and Wasawahili, engaged in noisy chaffer and barter. Bareheaded, and almost barebodied, the youths made love to the dark-skinned and woolly-headed Phyllises, who knew not how to blush at the ardent gaze of love, as their white sisters; old matrons gossiped, as the old women do everywhere; the children played, and laughed, and struggled, as children of our own lands; and the old men, leaning on their spears or bows, were just as garrulous in the Place de Ujiji as aged elders in other climes. CHAPTER XIII. -- OUR CRUISE ON THE LAKE TANGANIKA--EXPLORATION OF THE NORTH-END OF THE LAKE-- THE RUSIZI IS DISCOVERED TO ENTER INTO THE LAKE--RETURN TO UJIJI. "I distinctly deny that 'any misleading by my instructions from the Royal Geographical Society as to the position of the White Nile' made me unconscious of the vast importance of ascertaining the direction of the Rusizi River. The fact is, we did our best to reach it, and we failed."--Burton's Zanzibar. "The universal testimony of the natives to the Rusizi River being an influent is the most conclusive argument that it does run out of the lake."--Speke. "I therefore claim for Lake Tanganika the honour of being the SOUTHERNMOST RESERVOIR OF THE NILE, until some more positive evidence, by actual observation, shall otherwise determine it."--Findlay, R.G.S. Had Livingstone and myself, after making up our minds to visit the northern head of the Lake Tanganika, been compelled by the absurd demands or fears of a crew of Wajiji to return to Unyanyembe without having resolved the problem of the Rusizi River, we had surely deserved to be greeted by everybody at home with a universal giggling and cackling. But Capt. Burton's failure to settle it, by engaging Wajiji, and that ridiculous savage chief Kannena, had warned us of the negative assistance we could expect from such people for the solution of a geographical problem. We had enough good sailors with us, who were entirely under our commands. Could we but procure the loan of a canoe, we thought all might be well. Upon application to Sayd bin Majid, he at once generously permitted us to use his canoe for any service for which we might require it. After engaging two Wajiji guides at two doti each, we prepared to sail from the port of Ujiji, in about a week or so after my entrance into Ujiji. I have already stated how it was that the Doctor and I undertook the exploration of the northern half of the Tanganika and the River Rusizi, about which so much had been said and written. Before embarking on this enterprise, Dr. Livingstone had not definitely made up his mind which course he should take, as his position was truly deplorable. His servants consisted of Susi, Chumah, Hamoydah, Gardner, and Halimah, the female cook and wife of Hamoydah; to these was added Kaif-Halek, the man whom I compelled to follow me from Unyanyembe to deliver the Livingstone letters to his master. Whither could Dr. Livingstone march with these few men, and the few table-cloths and beads that remained to him from the store squandered by the imbecile Sherif? This was a puzzling question. Had Dr. Livingstone been in good health, his usual hardihood and indomitable spirit had answered it in a summary way. He might have borrowed some cloth from Sayd bin Majid at an exorbitant price, sufficient to bring him to Unyanyembe and the sea-coast. But how long would he have been compelled to sit down at Ujiji, waiting and waiting for the goods that were said to be at Unyanyembe, a prey to high expectations, hoping day after day that the war would end--hoping week after week to hear that his goods were coming? Who knows how long his weak health had borne up against the several disappointments to which he would be subjected? Though it was with all due deference to Dr. Livingstone's vast experience as a traveller, I made bold to suggest the following courses to him, either of which he could adopt: Ist. To go home, and take the rest he so well deserved and, as he appeared then, to be so much in need of. 2nd. To proceed to Unyanyembe, receive his goods, and enlist pagazis sufficient to enable him to travel anywhere, either to Manyuema or Rua, and settle the Nile problem, which he said he was in a fair way of doing. 3rd. To proceed to Unyanyembe, receive his caravan, enlist men, and try to join Sir Samuel Baker, either by going to Muanza, and sailing through Ukerewe or Victoria N'Yanza in my boats--which I should put up--to Mtesa's palace at Uganda, thus passing by Mirambo and Swaruru of Usui, who would rob him if he took the usual caravan road to Uganda; thence from Mtesa to Kamrasi, King of Unyoro, where he would of course hear of the great white man who was said to be with a large force of men at Gondokoro. 4th. To proceed to Unyanyembe, receive his caravan, enlist men, and return to Ujiji, and back to Manyuema by way of Uguhha. 5th. To proceed by way of the Rusizi through Ruanda, and so on to Itara, Unyoro, and Baker. For either course, whichever he thought most expedient, I and my men would assist him as escort and carriers, to the best of our ability. If he should elect to go home, I informed him I should be proud to escort him, and consider myself subject to his commands--travelling only when he desired, and camping only when he gave the word. 6th. The last course which I suggested to him, was to permit me to escort him to Unyanyembe, where he could receive his own goods, and where I could deliver up to him a large supply of first-class cloth and beads, guns and ammunition, cooking utensils, clothing, boats, tents, &c., and where he could rest in a comfortable house, while I would hurry down to the coast, organise a new expedition composed of fifty or sixty faithful men, well armed, by whom I could send an additional supply of needful luxuries in the shape of creature comforts. After long consideration, he resolved to adopt the last course, as it appeared to him to be the most feasible one, and the best, though he did not hesitate to comment upon the unaccountable apathy of his agent at Zanzibar, which had caused him so much trouble and vexation, and weary marching of hundreds of miles. Our ship--though nothing more than a cranky canoe hollowed out of a noble mvule tree of Ugoma--was an African Argo bound on a nobler enterprise than its famous Grecian prototype. We were bound upon no mercenary errand, after no Golden Fleece, but perhaps to discover a highway for commerce which should bring the ships of the Nile up to Ujiji, Usowa, and far Marungu. We did not know what we might discover on our voyage to the northern head of the Tanganika; we supposed that we should find the Rusizi to be an effluent of the Tanganika, flowing down to the Albert or the Victoria N'Yanza. We were told by natives and Arabs that the Rusizi ran out of the lake. Sayd bin Majid had stated that his canoe would carry twenty-five men, and 3,500 lbs. of ivory. Acting upon this information, we embarked twenty-five men, several of whom had stored away bags of salt for the purposes of trade with the natives; but upon pushing off from the shore near Ujiji, we discovered the boat was too heavily laden, and was down to the gunwale. Returning in-shore, we disembarked six men, and unloaded the bags of salt, which left us with sixteen rowers, Selim, Ferajji the cook, and the two Wajiji guides. Having thus properly trimmed our boat we again pushed off, and steered her head for Bangwe Island, which was distant four or five miles from the Bunder of Ujiji. While passing this island the guides informed us that the Arabs and Wajiji took shelter on it during an incursion of the Watuta--which took place some years ago--when they came and invaded Ujiji, and massacred several of the inhabitants. Those who took refuge on the island were the only persons who escaped the fire and sword with which the Watuta had visited Ujiji. After passing the island and following the various bends and indentations of the shore, we came in sight of the magnificent bay of Kigoma, which strikes one at once as being an excellent harbor from the variable winds which blow over the Tanganika. About 10 A.M. we drew in towards the village of Kigoma, as the east wind was then rising, and threatened to drive us to sea. With those travelling parties who are not in much hurry Kigoma is always the first port for canoes bound north from Ujiji. The next morning at dawn we struck tent, stowed baggage, cooked, and drank coffee, and set off northward again. The lake was quite calm; its waters, of a dark-green colour, reflected the serene blue sky above. The hippopotami came up to breathe in alarmingly close proximity to our canoe, and then plunged their heads again, as if they were playing hide-and-seek with us. Arriving opposite the high wooded hills of Bemba, and being a mile from shore, we thought it a good opportunity to sound the depth of the water, whose colour seemed to indicate great depth. We found thirty-five fathoms at this place. Our canoeing of this day was made close in-shore, with a range of hills, beautifully wooded and clothed with green grass, sloping abruptly, almost precipitously, into the depths of the fresh-water sea, towering immediately above us, and as we rounded the several capes or points, roused high expectations of some new wonder, or some exquisite picture being revealed as the deep folds disclosed themselves to us. Nor were we disappointed. The wooded hills with a wealth of boscage of beautiful trees, many of which were in bloom, and crowned with floral glory, exhaling an indescribably sweet fragrance, lifting their heads in varied contour--one pyramidal, another a truncated cone; one table-topped, another ridgy, like the steep roof of a church; one a glorious heave with an even outline, another jagged and savage-interested us considerably; and the pretty pictures, exquisitely pretty, at the head of the several bays, evoked many an exclamation of admiration. It was the most natural thing in the world that I should feel deepest admiration for these successive pictures of quiet scenic beauty, but the Doctor had quite as much to say about them as I had myself, though, as one might imagine, satiated with pictures of this kind far more beautiful--far more wonderful--he should long ago have expended all his powers of admiring scenes in nature. From Bagamoyo to Ujiji I had seen nothing to compare to them--none of these fishing settlements under the shade of a grove of palms and plantains, banians and mimosa, with cassava gardens to the right and left of palmy forests, and patches of luxuriant grain looking down upon a quiet bay, whose calm waters at the early morn reflected the beauties of the hills which sheltered them from the rough and boisterous tempests that so often blew without. The fishermen evidently think themselves comfortably situated. The lake affords them all the fish they require, more than enough to eat, and the industrious a great deal to sell. The steep slopes of the hills, cultivated by the housewives, contribute plenty of grain, such as dourra and Indian corn, besides cassava, ground-nuts or peanuts, and sweet potatoes. The palm trees afford oil, and the plantains an abundance of delicious fruit. The ravines and deep gullies supply them with the tall shapely trees from which they cut out their canoes. Nature has supplied them bountifully with all that a man's heart or stomach can desire. It is while looking at what seems both externally and internally complete and perfect happiness that the thought occurs--how must these people sigh, when driven across the dreary wilderness that intervenes between the lake country and the sea-coast, for such homes as these!--those unfortunates who, bought by the Arabs for a couple of doti, are taken away to Zanzibar to pick cloves, or do hamal work! As we drew near Niasanga, our second camp, the comparison between the noble array of picturesque hills and receding coves, with their pastoral and agricultural scenes, and the shores of old Pontus, was very great. A few minutes before we hauled our canoe ashore, two little incidents occurred. I shot an enormous dog-faced monkey, which measured from nose to end of tail 4 feet 9 inches; the face was 8 1/2 inches long, its body weighed about 100 lbs. It had no mane or tuft at end of tail, but the body was covered with long wiry hair. Numbers of these specimens were seen, as well as of the active cat-headed and long-tailed smaller ones. The other was the sight of a large lizard, about 2 ft. 6 in. long, which waddled into cover before we had well noticed it. The Doctor thought it to be the Monitor terrestris. We encamped under a banian tree; our surroundings were the now light-grey waters of the Tanganika, an amphitheatral range of hills, and the village of Niasanga, situated at the mouth of the rivulet Niasanga, with its grove of palms, thicket of plantains, and plots of grain and cassava fields. Near our tent were about half-a-dozen canoes, large and small, belonging to the villagers. Our tent door fronted the glorious expanse of fresh water, inviting the breeze, and the views of distant Ugoma and Ukaramba, and the Island of Muzimu, whose ridges appeared of a deep-blue colour. At our feet were the clean and well-washed pebbles, borne upward into tiny lines and heaps by the restless surf. A search amongst these would reveal to us the material of the mountain heaps which rose behind and on our right and left; there was schist, conglomerate sandstone, a hard white clay, an ochreish clay containing much iron, polished quartz, &c. Looking out of our tent, we could see a line on each side of us of thick tall reeds, which form something like a hedge between the beach and the cultivated area around Niasanga. Among birds seen here, the most noted were the merry wagtails, which are regarded as good omens and messengers of peace by the natives, and any harm done unto them is quickly resented, and is fineable. Except to the mischievously inclined, they offer no inducement to commit violence. On landing, they flew to meet us, balancing themselves in the air in front, within easy reach of our hands. The other birds were crows, turtle-doves, fish-hawks, kingfishers, ibis nigra and ibis religiosa, flocks of whydah birds, geese, darters, paddy birds, kites, and eagles. At this place the Doctor suffered from dysentery--it is his only weak point, he says; and, as I afterwards found, it is a frequent complaint with him. Whatever disturbed his mind, or any irregularity in eating, was sure to end in an attack of dysentery, which had lately become of a chronic character. The third day of our journey on the Tanganika brought us to Zassi River and village, after a four hours' pull. Along the line of road the mountains rose 2,000 and 2,500 feet above the waters of the lake. I imagined the scenery getting more picturesque and animated at every step, and thought it by far lovelier than anything seen near Lake George or on the Hudson. The cosy nooks at the head of the many small bays constitute most admirable pictures, filled in as they are with the ever-beautiful feathery palms and broad green plantain fronds. These nooks have all been taken possession of by fishermen, and their conically beehive-shaped huts always peep from under the frondage. The shores are thus extremely populous; every terrace, small plateau, and bit of level ground is occupied. Zassi is easily known by a group of conical hills which rise near by, and are called Kirassa. Opposite to these, at the distance of about a mile from shore, we sounded, and obtained 35 fathoms, as on the previous day. Getting out a mile further, I let go the whole length of my line, 115 fathoms, and obtained no bottom. In drawing it up again the line parted, and I lost the lead, with three-fourths of the line. The Doctor stated, apropos of this, that he had sounded opposite the lofty Kabogo, south of Ujiji, and obtained the great depth of 300 fathoms. He also lost his lead and 100 fathoms of his line, but he had nearly 900 fathoms left, and this was in the canoes. We hope to use this long sounding line in going across from the eastern to the western shore. On the fourth day we arrived at Nyabigma, a sandy island in Urundi. We had passed the boundary line between Ujiji and Urundi half-an-hour before arriving at Nyabigma. The Mshala River is considered by both nations to be the proper divisional line; though there are parties of Warundi who have emigrated beyond the frontier into Ujiji; for instance, the Mutware and villagers of populous Kagunga, distant an hour north from Zassi. There are also several small parties of Wajiji, who have taken advantage of the fine lands in the deltas of the Kasokwe, Namusinga, and Luaba Rivers, the two first of which enter the Tanganika in this bay, near the head of which Nyabigma is situated. From Nyabigma, a pretty good view of the deep curve in the great mountain range which stretches from Cape Kazinga and terminates at Cape Kasofu, may be obtained--a distance of twenty or twenty-five miles. It is a most imposing scene, this great humpy, ridgy, and irregular line of mountains. Deep ravines and chasms afford outlets to the numerous streams and rivers which take their rise in the background; the pale fleecy ether almost always shrouds its summit. From its base extends a broad alluvial plain, rich beyond description, teeming with palms and plantains, and umbrageous trees. Villages are seen in clusters everywhere. Into this alluvial plain run the Luaba, or Ruaba River, on the north side of Cape Kitunda, and the Kasokwe, Namusinga, and Mshala Rivers, on the south side of the cape. All the deltas of rivers emptying into the Tanganika are hedged in on all sides with a thick growth of matete, a gigantic species of grass, and papyrus. In some deltas, as that of Luaba and Kasokwe, morasses have been formed, in which the matete and papyrus jungle is impenetrable. In the depths of them are quiet and deep pools, frequented by various aquatic birds, such as geese, ducks, snipes, widgeons, kingfishers and ibis, cranes and storks, and pelicans. To reach their haunts is, however, a work of great difficulty to the sportsman in quest of game; a work often attended with great danger, from the treacherous nature of these morasses, as well as from the dreadful attacks of fever which, in these regions, invariably follow wet feet and wet clothes. At Nyabigma we prepared, by distributing ten rounds of ammunition to each of our men, for a tussle with the Warundi of two stages ahead, should they invite it by a too forward exhibition of their prejudice to strangers. At dawn of the fifth day we quitted the haven of Nyabigma Island, and in less than an hour had arrived off Cape Kitunda. This cape is a low platform of conglomerate sandstone, extending for about eight miles from the base of the great mountain curve which gives birth to the Luaba and its sister streams. Crossing the deep bay, at the head of which is the delta of the Luaba, we came to Cape Kasofu. Villages are numerous in this vicinity. From hence we obtained a view of a series of points or capes, Kigongo, Katunga, and Buguluka, all of which we passed before coming to a halt at the pretty position of Mukungu. At Mukungu, where we stopped on the fifth day, we were asked for honga, or tribute. The cloth and beads upon which we subsisted during our lake voyage were mine, but the Doctor, being the elder of the two, more experienced, and the "big man" of the party, had the charge of satisfying all such demands. Many and many a time had I gone through the tedious and soul-wearying task of settling the honga, and I was quite curious to see how the great traveller would perform the work. The Mateko (a man inferior to a Mutware) of Mukungu asked for two and a half doti. This was the extent of the demand, which he made known to us a little after dark. The Doctor asked if nothing had been brought to us. He was answered, "No, it was too late to get anything now; but, if we paid the honga, the Mateko would be ready to give us something when we came back." Livingstone, upon hearing this, smiled, and the Mateko being then and there in front of him, he said to him. "Well, if you can't get us anything now, and intend to give something when we return, we had better keep the honga until then." The Mateko was rather taken aback at this, and demurred to any such proposition. Seeing that he was dissatisfied, we urged him to bring one sheep--one little sheep--for our stomachs were nearly empty, having been waiting more than half a day for it. The appeal was successful, for the old man hastened, and brought us a lamb and a three-gallon pot of sweet but strong zogga, or palm toddy, and in return the Doctor gave him two and a half doti of cloth. The lamb was killed, and, our digestions being good, its flesh agreed with us; but, alas, for the effects of zogga, or palm toddy! Susi, the invaluable adjunct of Dr. Livingstone, and Bombay, the headman of my caravan, were the two charged with watching the canoe; but, having imbibed too freely of this intoxicating toddy, they slept heavily, and in the morning the Doctor and I had to regret the loss of several valuable and indispensable things; among which may be mentioned the Doctor's 900-fathom sounding-line, 500 rounds of pin, rim, and central-fire cartridges for my arms, and ninety musket bullets, also belonging to me. Besides these, which were indispensable in hostile Warundi, a large bag of flour and the Doctor's entire stock of white sugar were stolen. This was the third time that my reliance in Bombay's trustworthiness resulted in a great loss to me, and for the ninety-ninth time I had to regret bitterly having placed such entire confidence in Speke's loud commendation of him. It was only the natural cowardice of ignorant thieves that prevented the savages from taking the boat and its entire contents, together with Bombay and Susi as slaves. I can well imagine the joyful surprise which must have been called forth at the sight and exquisite taste of the Doctor's sugar, and the wonder with which they must have regarded the strange ammunition of the Wasungu. It is to be sincerely hoped that they did not hurt themselves with the explosive bullets and rim cartridges through any ignorance of the nature of the deadly contents; in which ease the box and its contents would prove a very Pandora's casket. Much grieved at our loss, we set off on the sixth day at the usual hour on our watery journey. We coasted close to the several low headlands formed by the rivers Kigwena, Kikuma, and Kisunwe; and when any bay promised to be interesting, steered the canoe according to its indentations. While travelling on the water--each day brought forth similar scenes--on our right rose the mountains of Urundi, now and then disclosing the ravines through which the several rivers and streams issued into the great lake; at their base were the alluvial plains, where flourished the oil-palm and grateful plantain, while scores of villages were grouped under their shade. Now and then we passed long narrow strips of pebbly or sandy beach, whereon markets were improvised for selling fish, and the staple products of the respective communities. Then we passed broad swampy morasses, formed by the numerous streams which the mountains discharged, where the matete and papyrus flourished. Now the mountains approached to the water, their sides descending abruptly to the water's edge; then they receded into deep folds, at the base of which was sure to be seen an alluvial plain from one to eight miles broad. Almost constantly we observed canoes being punted vigorously close to the surf, in fearless defiance of a catastrophe, such as a capsize and gobbling-up by voracious crocodiles. Sometimes we sighted a canoe a short distance ahead of us; whereupon our men, with song and chorus, would exert themselves to the utmost to overtake it. Upon observing our efforts, the natives would bend themselves to their tasks, and paddling standing and stark naked, give us ample opportunities for studying at our leisure comparative anatomy. Or we saw a group of fishermen lazily reclining in _puris naturalibus_ on the beach, regarding with curious eye the canoes as they passed their neighbourhood; then we passed a flotilla of canoes, their owners sitting quietly in their huts, busily plying the rod and hook, or casting their nets, or a couple of men arranging their long drag nets close in shore for a haul; or children sporting fearlessly in the water, with their mothers looking on approvingly from under the shade of a tree, from which I infer that there are not many crocodiles in the lake, except in the neighbourhood of the large rivers. After passing the low headland of Kisunwe, formed by the Kisunwe River, we came in view of Murembwe Cape, distant about four or five miles: the intervening ground being low land, a sandy and pebbly beach. Close to the beach are scores of villages, while the crowded shore indicates the populousness of the place beyond. About half way between Cape Kisunwe and Murembwe, is a cluster of villages called Bikari, which has a mutware who is in the habit of taking honga. As we were rendered unable to cope for any length of time with any mischievously inclined community, all villages having a bad reputation with the Wajiji were avoided by us. But even the Wajiji guides were sometimes mistaken, and led us more than once into dangerous places. The guides evidently had no objections to halt at Bikari, as it was the second camp from Mukungu; because with them a halt in the cool shade of plaintains was infinitely preferable to sitting like carved pieces of wood in a cranky canoe. But before they stated their objections and preferences, the Bikari people called to us in a loud voice to come ashore, threatening us with the vengeance of the great Wami if we did not halt. As the voices were anything but siren-like, we obstinately refused to accede to the request. Finding threats of no avail, they had recourse to stones, and, accordingly, flung them at us in a most hearty manner. As one came within a foot of my arm, I suggested that a bullet be sent in return in close proximity to their feet; but Livingstone, though he said nothing, yet showed plainly enough that he did not quite approve of this. As these demonstrations of hostility were anything but welcome, and as we saw signs of it almost every time we came opposite a village, we kept on our way until we came to Murembwe Point, which, being a delta of a river of the same name, was well protected by a breadth of thorny jungle, spiky cane, and a thick growth of reed and papyrus, from which the boldest Mrundi might well shrink, especially if he called to mind that beyond this inhospitable swamp were the guns of the strangers his like had so rudely challenged. We drew our canoe ashore here, and, on a limited area of clean sand, Ferajji, our rough-and-ready cook, lit his fire, and manufactured for us a supply of most delicious Mocha coffee. Despite the dangers which still beset us, we were quite happy, and seasoned our meal with a little moral philosophy, which lifted us unconsciously into infinitely superior beings to the pagans by whom we were surrounded--upon whom we now looked down, under the influence of Mocha coffee and moral philosophy, with calm contempt, not unmixed with a certain amount of compassion. The Doctor related some experiences he had had among people of similar disposition, but did not fail to ascribe them, with the wisdom of a man of ripe experiences, to the unwise conduct of the Arabs and half-castes; in this opinion I unreservedly concur. From Murembwe Point, having finished our coffee and ended our discourse on ethics, we proceeded on our voyage, steering for Cape Sentakeyi, which, though it was eight or ten miles away, we hoped to make before dark. The Wangwana pulled with right good will, but ten hours went by, and night was drawing near, and we were still far from Sentakeyi. As it was a fine moonlight night, and we were fully alive to the dangerous position in which we might find ourselves, they consented to pull an hour or two more. About 1 P.M., we pulled in shore for a deserted spot--a clean shelf of sand, about thirty feet long by ten deep, from which a clay bank rose about ten or twelve feet above, while on each side there were masses of disintegrated rock. Here we thought, that by preserving some degree of silence, we might escape observation, and consequent annoyance, for a few hours, when, being rested, we might continue our journey. Our kettle was boiling for tea, and the men had built a little fire for themselves, and had filled their black earthen pot with water for porridge, when our look-outs perceived dark forms creeping towards our bivouac. Being hailed, they at once came forward, and saluted us with the native "Wake." Our guides explained that we were Wangwana, and intended to camp until morning, when, if they had anything to sell, we should be glad to trade with them. They said they were rejoiced to hear this, and after they had exchanged a few words more--during which time we observed that they were taking mental notes of the camp--they went away. Upon leaving, they promised to return in the morning with food, and make friends with us. While drinking our tea, the look-outs warned us of the approach of a second party, which went through the same process of saluting and observing as the first had done. These also went away, over-exuberant, as I thought, and were shortly succeeded by a third party, who came and went as the others had. From all this we inferred that the news was spreading rapidly through the villages about, and we had noticed two canoes passing backwards and forwards with rather more haste than we deemed usual or necessary. We had good cause to be suspicious; it is not customary for people (at least, between Ujiji and Zanzibar) to be about visiting and saluting after dark, under any pretence; it is not permitted to persons to prowl about camp after dark without being shot at; and this going backward and forward, this ostentatious exuberance of joy at the arrival of a small party of Wangwana, which in many parts of Urundi would be regarded as a very common event, was altogether very suspicious. While the Doctor and I were arriving at the conclusion that these movements were preliminary to or significant of hostility, a fourth body, very boisterous and loud, came and visited us. Our supper had been by this time despatched, and we thought it high time to act. The fourth party having gone with extravagant manifestations of delight, the men were hurried into the canoe, and, when all were seated, and the look-outs embarked, we quietly pushed off, but not a moment too soon. As the canoe was gliding from the darkened light that surrounded us, I called the Doctor's attention to several dark forms; some of whom were crouching behind the rocks on our right, and others scrambling over them to obtain good or better positions; at the same time people were approaching from the left of our position, in the same suspicious way; and directly a voice hailed us from the top of the clay bank overhanging the sandy shelf where we had lately been resting. "Neatly done," cried the Doctor, as we were shooting through the water, leaving the discomfited would-be robbers behind us. Here, again, my hand was stayed from planting a couple of good shots, as a warning to them in future from molesting strangers, by the more presence of the Doctor, who, as I thought, if it were actually necessary, would not hesitate to give the word. After pulling six hours more, during which we had rounded Cape Sentakeyi, we stopped at the small fishing village of Mugeyo, where we were permitted to sleep unmolested. At dawn we continued our journey, and about 8 A.M. arrived at the village of the friendly Mutware of Magala. We had pulled for eighteen hours at a stretch, which, at the rate of two miles and a half per hour, would make forty-five miles. Taking bearings from our camp at Cape Magala, one of the most prominent points in travelling north from Ujiji, we found that the large island of Muzimu, which had been in sight ever since rounding Cape Bangwe, near Ujiji Bunder, bore about south-south-west, and that the western shore had considerably approached to the eastern; the breadth of the lake being at this point about eight or ten miles. We had a good view of the western highlands, which seemed to be of an average height, about 3,000 feet above the lake. Luhanga Peak, rising a little to the north of west from Magala, might be about 500 feet higher; and Sumburizi, a little north of Luhanga, where lived Mruta, Sultan of Uvira, the country opposite to this part of Urundi, about 300 feet higher than the neighbouring heights. Northward from Magala Cape the lake streamed away between two chains of mountains; both meeting in a point about thirty miles north of us. The Warundi of Magala were very civil, and profound starers. They flocked around the tent door, and most pertinaciously gazed on us, as if we were subjects of most intense interest, but liable to sudden and eternal departure. The Mutware came to see us late in the afternoon, dressed with great pomp. He turned out to be a boy whom I had noticed in the crowd of gazers for his good looks and fine teeth, which he showed, being addicted to laughing continually. There was no mistaking him, though he was now decorated with many ivory ornaments, with necklaces, and with heavy brass bracelets and iron wire anklets. Our admiration of him was reciprocated; and, in return for our two doti of cloth and a fundo of samsam, he gave a fine fat and broad-tailed sheep, and a pot of milk. In our condition both were extremely acceptable. At Magala we heard of a war raging between Mukamba, for whose country we were bound, and Warumashanya, a Sultan of an adjoining district; and we were advised that, unless we intended to assist one of these chiefs against the other, it would be better for us to return. But, as we had started to solve the problem of the Rusizi River, such considerations had no weight with us. On the eighth morning from leaving Ujiji we bade farewell to the hospitable people of Magala, and set off for Mukamba's country, which was in view. Soon after passing the boundary between Urundi proper, and what is known as Usige, a storm from the south-west arose; and the fearful yawing of our canoe into the wave trough warned us from proceeding further; so we turned her head for Kisuka village, about four miles north, where Mugere, in Usige, begins. At Kisuka a Mgwana living with Mukamba came to see us, and gave us details of the war between Mukamba and Warumashanya, from which it seemed that these two chiefs were continually at loggerheads. It is a tame way of fighting, after all. One chief makes a raid into the other's country, and succeeds in making off with a herd of cattle, killing one or two men who have been surprised. Weeks, or perhaps months elapse before the other retaliates, and effects a capture in a similar way, and then a balance is struck in which neither is the gainer. Seldom do they attack each other with courage and hearty goodwill, the constitution of the African being decidedly against any such energetic warfare. This Mgwana, further, upon being questioned, gave us information far more interesting, viz., about the Rusizi. He told us positively, with the air of a man who knew all about it, and as if anybody who doubted him might well be set down as an egregious ass, that the Rusizi River flowed out of the lake, away to Suna's (Mtesa's) country. "Where else could it flow to?" he asked. The Doctor was inclined to believe it, or, perhaps he was more inclined to let it rest as stated until our own eyes should confirm it. I was more inclined to doubt, as I told the Doctor; first, it was too good to be true; second, the fellow was too enthusiastic upon a subject that could not possibly interest him. His "Barikallahs" and "Inshallahs" were far too fervid; his answers too much in accordance with our wishes. The Doctor laid great stress on the report of a Mgwana he met far south, who stated that the grandfather or father of Rumanika, present King of Karagwah, had thought of excavating the bed of the Kitangule River, in order that his canoes might go to Ujiji to open a trade. From this, I imagine, coinciding as it did with his often-expressed and present firm belief that the waters of the Tanganika had an outlet somewhere, the Doctor was partial to the report of the Mgwana; but as we proceed we shall see how all this will end. On the ninth morning from Ujiji, about two hours after sunrise, we passed the broad delta of the Mugere, a river which gives its name also to the district on the eastern shore ruled over by Mukamba. We had come directly opposite the most southern of its three mouths, when we found quite a difference in the colour of the water. An almost straight line, drawn east and west from the mouth would serve well to mark off the difference that existed between the waters. On the south side was pure water of a light green, on the north side it was muddy, and the current could be distinctly seen flowing north. Soon after passing the first mouth we came to a second, and then a third mouth, each only a few yards broad, but each discharging sufficient water to permit our following the line of the currents several rods north beyond the respective mouths. Beyond the third mouth of the Mugere a bend disclosed itself, with groups of villages beyond on its bank. These were Mukamba's, and in one of them lived Mukamba, the chief. The natives had yet never seen a white man, and, of course, as soon as we landed we were surrounded by a large concourse, all armed with long spears--the only weapon visible amongst them save a club-stick, and here and there a hatchet. We were shown into a hut, which the Doctor and I shared between us. What followed on that day I have but a dim recollection, having been struck down by fever--the first since leaving Unyanyembe. I dimly recollect trying to make out what age Mukamba might be, and noting that he was good-looking withal, and kindly-disposed towards us. And during the intervals of agony and unconsciousness, I saw, or fancied I saw, Livingstone's form moving towards me, and felt, or fancied I felt, Livingstone's hand tenderly feeling my hot head and limbs. I had suffered several fevers between Bagamoyo and Unyanyembe, without anything or anybody to relieve me of the tedious racking headache and pain, or to illumine the dark and gloomy prospect which must necessarily surround the bedside of the sick and solitary traveller. But though this fever, having enjoyed immunity from it for three months, was more severe than usual, I did not much regret its occurrence, since I became the recipient of the very tender and fatherly kindness of the good man whose companion I now found myself. The next morning, having recovered slightly from the fever, when Mukamba came with a present of an ox, a sheep, and a goat, I was able to attend to the answers which he gave to the questions about the Rusizi River and the head of the lake. The ever cheerful and enthusiastic Mgwana was there also, and he was not a whit abashed, when, through him, the chief told us that the Rusizi, joined by the Ruanda, or Luanda, at a distance of two days' journey by water, or one day by land from the head of the lake, flowed INTO the lake. Thus our hopes, excited somewhat by the positive and repeated assurances that the river flowed out away towards Karagwah, collapsed as speedily as they were raised. We paid Mukamba the honga, consisting of nine doti and nine fundo of samsam, lunghio, muzurio n'zige. The printed handkerchiefs, which I had in abundance at Unyanyembe, would have gone well here. After receiving his present, the chief introduced his son, a tall youth of eighteen or thereabouts, to the Doctor, as a would-be son of the Doctor; but, with a good-natured laugh, the Doctor scouted all such relationship with him, as it was instituted only for the purpose of drawing more cloth out of him. Mukamba took it in good part, and did not insist on getting more. Our second evening at Mukamba's, Susi, the Doctor's servant, got gloriously drunk, through the chief's liberal and profuse gifts of pombe. Just at dawn neat morning I was awakened by hearing several sharp, crack-like sounds. I listened, and I found the noise was in our hut. It was caused by the Doctor, who, towards midnight, had felt some one come and lie down by his side on the same bed, and, thinking it was me, he had kindly made room, and laid down on the edge of the bed. But in the morning, feeling rather cold, he had been thoroughly awakened, and, on rising on his elbow to see who his bed-fellow was, he discovered, to his great astonishment, that it was no other than his black servant, Susi, who taking possession of his blankets, and folding them about himself most selfishly, was occupying almost the whole bed. The Doctor, with that gentleness characteristic of him, instead of taking a rod, had contented himself with slapping Susi on the back, saying, "Get up, Susi, will you? You are in my bed. How dare you, sir, get drunk in this way, after I have told you so often not to. Get up. You won't? Take that, and that, and that." Still Susi slept and grunted; so the slapping continued, until even Susi's thick hide began to feel it, and he was thoroughly awakened to the sense of his want of devotion and sympathy for his master in the usurping of even his master's bed. Susi looked very much crestfallen after this exposé of his infirmity before the "little master," as I was called. The next day at dusk--Mukamba having come to bid us good-bye, and requested that as soon as we reached his brother Ruhinga, whose country was at the head of the lake, we would send our canoe back for him, and that in the meanwhile we should leave two of our men with him, with their guns, to help defend him in case Warumashanya should attack him as soon as we were gone--we embarked and pulled across. In nine hours we had arrived at the head of the lake in Mugihewa, the country of Ruhinga; Mukamba's elder brother. In looking back to where we had come from we perceived that we had made a diagonal cut across from south-east to north-west, instead of having made a direct east and west course; or, in other words, from Mugere--which was at least ten miles from the northernmost point of the eastern shore--we had come to Mugihewa, situated at the northernmost point of the western shore. Had we continued along the eastern shore, and so round the northern side of the lake, we should have passed by Mukanigi, the country of Warumashanya, and Usumbura of Simveh, his ally and friend. But by making a diagonal course, as just described, we had arrived at the extreme head of the lake without any difficulty. The country in which we now found ourselves, Mugihewa, is situated in the delta of the Rusizi River. It is an extremely flat country, the highest part of which is not ten feet above the lake, with numerous depressions in it overgrown with the rankest of matete-grass and the tallest of papyrus, and pond-like hollows, filled with stagnant water, which emit malaria wholesale. Large herds of cattle are reared on it; for where the ground is not covered with marshy plants it produces rich, sweet grass. The sheep and goats, especially the former, are always in good condition; and though they are not to be compared with English or American sheep, they are the finest I have seen in Africa. Numerous villages are seen on this land because the intervening spaces are not occupied with the rank and luxuriant jungle common in other parts of Africa. Were it not for the Euphorbia kolquall of Abyssinia--which some chief has caused to be planted as a defence round the villages--one might see from one end of Mugihewa to the other. The waters along the head of the lake, from the western to the eastern shores, swarm with crocodiles. From the banks, I counted ten heads of crocodiles, and the Rusizi, we were told, was full of them. Ruhinga, who came to see us soon after we had taken up our quarters in his village, was a most amiable man, who always contrived to see something that excited his risibility; though older by five or six years perhaps--he said he was a hundred years old--than Mukamba, he was not half so dignified, nor regarded with so much admiration by his people as his younger brother. Ruhinga had a better knowledge, however, of the country than Mukamba, and an admirable memory, and was able to impart his knowledge of the country intelligently. After he had done the honours as chief to us--presented us with an ox and a sheep, milk and honey--we were not backward in endeavouring to elicit as much information as possible out of him. The summary of the information derived from Ruhinga may be stated as follows: The country bordering the head of the lake from Urundi proper, on the eastern shore, to Uvira on the western, is divided into the following districts: 1st. Mugere, governed by Mukamba, through which issued into the lake the small rivers of Mugere and Mpanda. 2nd. Mukanigi, governed by Warumashanya, which occupied the whole of the north-eastern head of the lake, through which issued into the lake the small rivers of Karindwa and Mugera wa Kanigi. 3rd. On the eastern half of the district, at the head of the lake, was Usumbura, governed by Simveh, ally and friend of Warumashanya, extending to the eastern bank of the Rusizi. 4th. Commencing from the western bank of the Rusizi, to the extreme north-western head of the lake, was Mugihewa--Ruhinga's country. 5th. From Uvira on the west, running north past Mugihewa, and overlapping it on the north side as far as the hills of Chamati, was Ruwenga, also a country governed by Mukamba. Beyond Ruwenga, from the hills of Chamati to the Ruanda River, was the country of Chamati. West of Ruwenga, comprising all the mountains for two days' journey in that direction, was Uashi. These are the smaller sub-divisions of what is commonly known as Ruwenga and Usige. Ruwenga comprises the countries of Ruwenga and Mugihewa; Usige, the countries of Usumbura, Mukanigi, and Mugere. But all these countries are only part and parcel of Urundi, which comprises all that country bordering the lake from Mshala River, on the eastern shore, to Uvira, on the western, extending over ten days' journey direct north from the head of the lake, and one month in a northeastern direction to Murukuko, the capital of Mwezi, Sultan of all Urundi. Direct north of Urundi is Ruanda; also a very large country. The Rusizi River--according to Ruhinga--rose near a lake called Kivo, which he said is as long as from Mugihawa to Mugere, and as broad as from Mugihewa to Warumashanya's country, or, say eighteen miles in length by about eight in breadth. The lake is surrounded by mountains on the western and northern sides: on the south-western side of one of these mountains issues the Rusizi--at first a small rapid stream; but as it proceeds towards the lake it receives the rivers Kagunissi, Kaburan, Mohira, Nyamagana, Nyakagunda, Ruviro, Rofubu, Kavimvira, Myove, Ruhuha, Mukindu, Sange, Rubirizi, Kiriba, and, lastly, the Ruanda River, which seems to be the largest of them all. Kivo Lake is so called from the country in which it is situated. On one side is Mutumbi (probably the Utumbi of Speke and Baker), on the west is Ruanda; on the east is Urundi. The name of the chief of Kivo is Kwansibura. After so many minute details about the River Rusizi, it only remained for us to see it. On the second morning of our arrival at Mugihewa we mustered ten strong paddlers, and set out to explore the head of the lake and the mouth of the Rusizi. We found that the northern head of the lake was indented with seven broad bays, each from one and a half to three miles broad; that long broad spits of sand, overgrown with matete, separated each bay from the other. The first, starting from west to east, at the broadest part, to the extreme southern point of Mugihewa, was about three miles broad, and served as a line of demarcation between Mukamba's district of Ruwenga and Mugihewa of Ruhinga; it was also two miles deep. The second bay was a mile from the southern extremity of Mugihewa to Ruhinga's village at the head of the bay, and it was a mile across to another spit of sand which was terminated by a small island. The third bay stretched for nearly a mile to a long spit, at the end of which was another island, one and a quarter mile in length, and was the western side of the fourth bay, at the head of which was the delta of the Rusizi. This fourth bay, at its base, was about three miles in depth, and penetrated half a mile further inland than any other. Soundings indicated six feet deep, and the same depth was kept to within a few hundred yards of the principal mouth of the Rusizi. The current was very sluggish; not more than a mile an hour. Though we constantly kept our binocular searching for the river, we could not see the main channel until within 200 yards of it, and then only by watching by what outlet the fishing; canoes came out. The bay at this point had narrowed from two miles to about 200 yards in breadth. Inviting a canoe to show us the way, a small flotilla of canoes preceded us, from the sheer curiosity of their owners. We followed, and in a few minutes were ascending the stream, which was very rapid, though but about ten yards wide, and very shallow; not more than two feet deep. We ascended about half a mile, the current being very strong, from six to eight miles an hour, and quite far enough to observe the nature of the stream at its embouchure. We could see that it widened and spread out in a myriad of channels, rushing by isolated clumps of sedge and matete grass; and that it had the appearance of a swamp. We had ascended the central, or main channel. The western channel was about eight yards broad. We observed, after we had returned to the bay, that the easternmost channel was about six yards broad, and about ten feet deep, but very sluggish. We had thus examined each of its three mouths, and settled all doubts as to the Rusizi being an effluent or influent. It was not necessary to ascend higher, there being nothing about the river itself to repay exploration of it. The question, "Was the Rusizi an effluent or an influent?" was answered for ever. There was now no doubt any more on that point. In size it was not to be compared with the Malagarazi River, neither is it, or can it be, navigable for anything but the smallest canoes. The only thing remarkable about it is that it abounds in crocodiles, but not one hippopotamus was seen; which may be taken as another evidence of its shallowness. The bays to the east of the Rusizi are of the same conformation as those on the west. Carefully judging from the width of the several bays from point to point, and of the several spits which separate them, the breadth of the lake may be said to be about twelve or fourteen miles. Had we contented ourselves with simply looking at the conformation, and the meeting of the eastern and western ranges, we should have said that the lake ended in a point, as Captain Speke has sketched it on his map. But its exploration dissolved that idea. Chamati Hill is the extreme northern termination of the western range, and seems, upon a superficial examination, to abut against the Ramata mountains of the eastern range, which are opposite Chamati; but a valley about a mile in breadth separates the two ranges, and through this valley the Rusizi flows towards the lake.* Though Chamati terminates the western range, the eastern range continues for miles beyond, north-westerly. After its issue from this broad gorge, the Rusizi runs seemingly in a broad and mighty stream, through a wide alluvial plain, its own formation, in a hundred channels, until, approaching the lake, it flows into it by three channels only, as above described. ______________ * After the patient investigation of the North end of the Lake, and satisfying ourselves by personal observation that the Rusizi ran into the Lake, the native rumor which Sir Samuel Baker brought home that the Tanganika and the Albert N'Yanza have a water connection still finds many believers! ______________ I should not omit to state here, that though the Doctor and I have had to contend against the strong current of the Rusizi River, as it flowed swift and strong INTO the Tanganika, the Doctor still adheres to the conviction that, whatever part the Rusizi plays, there must be an outlet to the Tanganika somewhere, from the fact that all fresh-water lakes have outlets, The Doctor is able to state his opinions and reasons far better than I can find for him; and, lest I misconstrue the subject, I shall leave it until he has an opportunity to explain them himself; which his great knowledge of Africa will enable him to do with advantage. One thing is evident to me, and I believe to the Doctor, that Sir Samuel Baker will have to curtail the Albert N'Yanza by one, if not two degrees of latitude. That well-known traveller has drawn his lake far into the territory of the Warundi, while Ruanda has been placed on the eastern side; whereas a large portion of it, if not all, should be placed north of what he has designated on his map as Usige. The information of such an intelligent man as Ruhinga is not to be despised; for, if Lake Albert came within a hundred miles of the Tanganika, he would surely have heard of its existence, even if he had not seen it himself. Originally he came from Mutumbi, and he has travelled from that country into Mugihewa, the district he now governs. He has seen Mwezi, the great King of Urundi, and describes him as a man about forty years old, and as a very good man. Our work was now done; there was nothing more to detain us at Mugihewa. Ruhinga had been exceedingly kind, and given us one ox after another to butcher and eat. Mukamba had done the same. Their women had supplied us with an abundance of milk and butter, and we had now bounteous supplies of both. The Doctor had taken a series of observations for latitude and longitude; and Mugihewa was made out to be in 3 degrees 19 minutes S. latitude. On the 7th December, early in the morning, we left Mugihewa, and rowing past the southern extremity of the Katangara Islands, we approached the highlands of Uashi near the boundary line between Mukamba's country and Uvira. The boundary line is supposed to be a wide ravine, in the depths of which is a grove of tall, beautiful, and straight-stemmed trees, out of which the natives make their canoes. Passing Kanyamabengu River, which issues into the lake close to the market-ground of Kirabula, the extreme point of Burton and Speke's explorations of the Tanganika, we steered south along the western shore of the lake for half an hour longer to Kavimba, where we halted to cook breakfast. The village where lived Mruta, the King of Uvira, was in sight of our encampment, and as we observed parties of men ascending and descending the mountains much more often than we thought augured good to ourselves, we determined to continue on our course south. Besides, there was a party of disconsolate-looking Wajiji here, who had been plundered only a few days before our arrival, for attempting, as the Wavira believed, to evade the honga payment. Such facts as these, and our knowledge of the general state of insecurity in the country, resulting from the many wars in which the districts of the Tanganika were engaged, determined us not to halt at Kavimba. We embarked quickly in our boat before the Wavira had collected themselves, and headed south against a strong gale, which came driving down on us from the south-west. After a hard pull of about two hours in the teeth of the storm, which was rapidly rising, we pointed the head of the boat into a little quiet cove, almost hidden in tall reeds, and disembarked for the night. Cognizant of the dangers which surrounded us, knowing, that savage and implacable man was the worst enemy we had to fear, we employed our utmost energies in the construction of a stout fence of thorn bushes, and then sat down to supper after our work was done, and turned in to sleep; but not before we had posted watchmen to guard our canoe, lest the daring thieves of Uvira might abstract it, in which case we should have been in a pretty plight, and in most unenviable distress. At daybreak, leaving Kukumba Point after our humble breakfast of coffee, cheese, and dourra cakes was despatched, we steered south once more. Our fires had attracted the notice of the sharp-eyed and suspicious fishermen of Kukumba; but our precautions and the vigilant watch we had set before retiring, had proved an effectual safeguard against the Kivira thieves. The western shores of the lake as we proceeded were loftier, and more bold than the wooded heights of Urundi and bearded knolls of Ujiji. A back ridge--the vanguard of the mountains which rise beyond--disclosed itself between the serrated tops of the front line of mountains, which rose to a height of from 2,500 to 3,000 feet above the lake. Within the folds of the front line of mountains rise isolated hills of considerable magnitude, precipitous and abrupt, but scenically very picturesque. The greater part of these hills have the rounded and smooth top, or are tabularly summited. The ridge enfolding these hills shoots out, at intervals, promontorial projections of gradual sloping outlines, which on the map I have designated capes, or points. When rounding these points, up went our compasses for the taking of bearings, and observing the directions of all prominent objects of interest. Often these capes are formed by the alluvial plains, through which we may be sure a river will be found flowing. These pretty alluvial plains, enfolded on the south, the west, and the north by a grand mountain arc, present most luxurious and enchanting scenery. The vegetation seems to be of spontaneous growth. Groups of the Elaeis Guineansis palm embowering some dun-brown village; an array of majestic, superb growth of mvule trees; a broad extent covered with vivid green sorghum stalks; parachute-like tops of mimosa; a line of white sand, on which native canoes are drawn far above the reach of the plangent, uneasy surf; fishermen idly reclining in the shade of a tree;--these are the scenes which reveal themselves to us as we voyage in our canoe on the Tanganika. When wearied with the romance of wild tropic scenes such as these, we have but to lift our eyes to the great mountain tops looming darkly and grandly on our right; to watch the light pencilling of the cirrus, brushing their summits, as it is drifted toward the north by the rising wind: to watch the changing forms which the clouds assume, from the fleecy horizontal bars of the cirrus, to the denser, gloomier cumulus, prognosticator of storm and rain, which soon settles into a portentous group--Alps above Alps, one above another--and we know the storm which was brewing is at hand, and that it is time to seek shelter. Passing Muikamba, we saw several groves of the tall mvule tree. As far as Bemba the Wabembe occupy the mountain summits, while the Wavira cultivate the alluvial plains along the base and lower slopes of the mountain. At Bemba we halted to take in pieces of pipe-clay, in accordance with the superstition of the Wajiji, who thought us certain of safe passage and good fortune if we complied with the ancient custom. Passing Ngovi, we came to a deep bend, which curved off to Cape Kabogi at the distance of ten miles. About two-thirds of the way we arrived at a group of islets, three in number, all very steep and rocky; the largest about 300 feet in length at the base, and about 200 feet in breadth. Here we made preparations to halt for the night. The inhabitants of the island were a gorgeously-feathered old cock, which was kept as a propitiatory offering to the spirit of the island, a sickly yellow-looking thrush, a hammer-headed stork, and two fish-hawks, who, finding we had taken possession of what had been religiously reserved for them, took flight to the most western island, where from their perches they continued to eye us most solemnly. As these islands were with difficulty pronounced by us as Kavunvweh, the Doctor, seeing that they were the only objects we were likely to discover, named them the "'New York Herald' Islets;" and, in confirmation of the new designation given them, shook hands with me upon it. Careful dead-reckoning settled them to be in lat. 3 degrees 41 minutes S. The summit of the largest island was well adapted to take bearings, and we improved the opportunity, as most extensive views of the broad and lengthy lake and surrounding lines of imposing mountains were attainable. The Ramata Hills were clearly visible, and bore N.N.E. from it; Katanga Cape, S.E. by S.; Sentakeyi, E.S.E.; Magala, E. by N.; south-western point of Muzimu bore S., northern point of Muzimu island, S.S.E. At dawn on the 9th December we prepared to resume our voyage. Once or twice in the night we had been visited by fishermen, but our anxious watchfulness prevented any marauding. It seemed to me, however, that the people of the opposite shore, who were our visitors, were eagerly watching an opportunity to pounce upon our canoe, or take us bodily for a prey; and our men were considerably affected by these thoughts, if we may judge from the hearty good-will with which they rowed away from our late encampment. Arriving at Cape Kabogi, we came to the territory of the Wasansi. We knew we were abreast of a different tribe by the greeting "Moholo," which a group of fishermen gave us; as that of the Wavira was "Wake," like that of Urundi, Usige, and Uhha. We soon sighted Cape Luvumba--a sloping projection of a mountain ridge which shot far into the lake. As a storm was brewing, we steered for a snug little cove that appeared before a village; and, drawing our canoe from the water, began to set the tent, and make other preparations for passing the night. As the natives appeared quiet and civil enough, we saw no reason to suspect that they entertained any hostility to Arabs and Wangwana. Accordingly we had our breakfast cooked, and as usual laid down for an afternoon nap. I soon fell asleep, and was dreaming away in my tent, in happy oblivion of the strife and contention that had risen since I had gone to sleep, when I heard a voice hailing me with, "Master, master! get up, quick. Here is a fight going to begin!" I sprang up, and snatching my revolver belt from the gun-stand, walked outside. Surely, there appeared to be considerable animus between the several factions; between a noisy, vindictive-looking set of natives of the one part, and our people of the other part. Seven or eight of our people had taken refuge behind the canoe, and had their loaded guns half pointing at the passionate mob, which was momentarily increasing in numbers, but I could not see the Doctor anywhere. "Where is the Doctor?" I asked. "He has gone over that hill, sir, with his compass," said Selim. "Anybody with him?" "Susi and Chumah." "You, Bombay, send two men off to warn the Doctor, and tell him to hurry up here." But just at this period the Doctor and his two men appeared on the brow of the hill, looking down in a most complacent manner upon the serio-comic scene that the little basin wherein we were encamped presented. For, indeed, despite the serious aspect of it, there was much that was comical blended with it--in a naked young man who--perfectly drunk, barely able to stand on his feet--was beating the ground with his only loin-cloth, screaming and storming away like a madman; declaring by this, and by that, in his own choice language, that no Mgwana or Arab should halt one moment on the sacred soil of Usansi. His father, the Sultan, was as inebriated as himself, though not quite so violent in his behaviour. In the meantime the Doctor arrived upon the scene, and Selim had slipped my Winchester rifle, with the magazine full of cartridges, into my hand. The Doctor calmly asked what was the matter, and was answered by the Wajiji guides that the people wished us to leave, as they were on hostile terms with the Arabs, because the eldest son of the Sultan of Muzimu, the large island nearly opposite, had been beaten to death by a Baluch, named Khamis, at Ujiji, because the young fellow had dared look into his harem, and ever since peace had been broken between the Wasansi and Arabs. After consulting with the guides, the Doctor and I came to the conclusion that it were better that we should endeavour to pacify the Sultan by a present, rather than take offence at a drunken boy's extravagant freak. In his insane fury he had attempted to slash at one of my men with a billhook he carried. This had been taken as a declaration of hostilities, and the soldiers were ready enough to engage in war; but there was no necessity to commence fighting with a drunken mob, who could have been cleared off the ground with our revolvers alone had we desired it. The Doctor, baring his arm, said to them that he was not a Mgwana, or an Arab; but a white man; that Arabs and Wangwana had no such colour as we had. We were white men, different people altogether from those whom they were accustomed to see: that no black men had ever suffered injury from white men. This seemed to produce great effect, for after a little gentle persuasion the drunken youth, and his no less inebriate sire, were induced to sit down to talk quietly. In their conversation with us, they frequently referred to Mombo, the son of Kisesa, Sultan of Muzimu, who was brutally murdered. "Yes, brutally murdered!" they exclaimed several times, in their own tongue; illustrating, by a faithful pantomime, how the unfortunate youth had died. Livingstone continued talking with them in a mild, paternal way, and their loud protestations against Arab cruelty were about to subside, when the old Sultan suddenly rose up and began to pace about in an excited manner, and in one of his perambulations deliberately slashed his leg with the sharp blade of his spear, and then exclaimed that the Wangwana had wounded him! At this cry one half of the mob hastily took to flight, but one old woman, who carried a strong staff with a carved lizard's body on its top, commenced to abuse the chief with all the power of her voluble tongue, charging him with a desire to have them all killed, and other women joined in with her in advising him to be quiet, and accept the present we were willing to give. But it is evident that there was little needed to cause all men present in that little hollow to begin a most sanguinary strife. The gentle, patient bearing of the Doctor had more effect than anything else in making all forbear bloodshed, while there was left the least chance of an amicable settlement, and in the end it prevailed. The Sultan and his son were both sent on their way rejoicing. While the Doctor conversed with them, and endeavoured to calm their fierce passions, I had the tent struck, and the canoes launched, and the baggage stowed, and when the negotiations had concluded amicably, I begged the Doctor to jump into the boat, as this apparent peace was simply a lull before a storm; besides, said I, there are two or three cowardly creatures in the boat, who, in case of another disturbance, would not scruple to leave both of us here. From Cape Luvumba, about 4.30 P.M. we commenced pulling across; at 8 P.M. we were abreast of Cape Panza, the northern extremity of the island of Muzimu; at 6 A.M. we were southward of Bikari, and pulling for Mukungu, in Urundi, at which place we arrived at 10 A.M., having been seventeen hours and a half in crossing the lake, which, computing at two miles an hour, may be said to be thirty-five miles direct breadth, and a little more than forty-three miles from Cape Luvumba. On the 11th of December, after seven hours' pulling, we arrived at picturesque Zassi again; on the 12th, at the pretty cove of Niasanga; and at 11 A.M. we had rounded past Bangwe, and Ujiji was before us. We entered the port very quietly, without the usual firing of guns, as we were short of powder and ball. As we landed, our soldiers and the Arab magnates came to the water's edge to greet us. Mabruki had a rich budget to relate to us, of what had occurred during our absence. This faithful man, left behind in charge of Livingstone's house, had done most excellently. Kalulu had scalded himself, and had a frightful raw sore on his chest in consequence. Mabruki had locked up Marora in chains for wounding one of the asses. Bilali, the stuttering coward, a bully of women, had caused a tumult in the market-place, and had been sharply belaboured with the stick by Mabruki. And, above all most welcome, was a letter I received from the American Consul at Zanzibar, dated June 11th, containing telegrams from Paris as late as April 22nd of the same year! Poor Livingstone exclaimed, "And I have none. What a pleasant thing it is to have a real and good friend!" Our voyage on the Tanganika had lasted twenty-eight days, during which time we had traversed over 300 miles of water. CHAPTER XIV. -- OUR JOURNEY FROM UJIJI TO UNYANYEMBE. We felt quite at home when we sat down on our black bear-skin, gay Persian carpet and clean new mats, to rest with our backs to the wall, sipping our tea with the air of comfortable men, and chat over the incidents of the "picnic," as Livingstone persisted in calling our journey to the Rusizi. It seemed as if old times, which we loved to recall, had come back again, though our house was humble enough in its aspect, and our servants were only naked barbarians; but it was near this house that I had met him--Livingstone--after that eventful march from Unyanyembe; it was on this same veranda that I listened to that wonderful story of his about those far, enchanting regions west of the Lake Tanganika; it was in this same spot that I first became acquainted with him; and ever since my admiration has been growing for him, and I feel elated when he informs me that he must go to Unyanyembe under my escort, and at my expense. The old mud walls and the bare rafters, and the ancient thatched roof, and this queer-looking old veranda, will have an historical interest for me while I live, and so, while I can, I have taken pains and immortalized the humble old building by a sketch. I have just said that my admiration for Livingstone has been growing. This is true. The man that I was about to interview so calmly and complacently, as I would interview any prominent man with the view of specially delineating his nature, or detailing his opinions, has conquered me. I had intended to interview him, report in detail what he said, picture his life and his figure, then bow him my "au revoir," and march back. That he was specially disagreeable and brusque in his manner, which would make me quarrel with him immediately, was firmly fixed in my mind. But Livingstone--true, noble Christian, generous-hearted, frank man--acted like a hero, invited me to his house, said he was glad to see me, and got well on purpose to prove the truth of his statement, "You have brought new life unto me;" and when I fell sick with the remittent fever, hovering between life and death, he attended me like a father, and we have now been together for more than a month. Can you wonder, then, that I like this man, whose face is the reflex of his nature, whose heart is essentially all goodness, whose aims are so high, that I break out impetuously sometimes: "But your family, Doctor, they would like to see you, oh! so much. Let me tempt you to come home with me. I promise to carry you every foot of the way to the coast. You shall have the finest donkey to ride that is in Unyanyembe. Your wants--you have but to hint them, and they shall be satisfied. Let the sources of the Nile go--do you come home and rest; then, after a year's rest, and restored health, you can return and finish what you have to do." But ever the answer was, "No, I should like to see my family very much indeed. My children's letters affect me intensely; but I must not go home; I must finish my task. It is only the want of supplies that has detained me. I should have finished the discovery of the Nile by this, by tracing it to its connection with either Baker's Lake, or Petherick's branch of the Nile. If I had only gone one month further, I could have said, 'the work is done."' Some of these men who had turned the Doctor back from his interesting discoveries were yet in Ujiji, and had the Government Enfield rifles in their hands, which they intended to retain until their wages had been paid to them; but as they had received $60 advance each at Zanzibar from the English Consul, with the understanding entered into by contract that they should follow their master wherever he required them to go; and as they had not only not gone where they were required to proceed with him, but had baffled and thwarted him, it was preposterous that a few men should triumph over the Doctor, by keeping the arms given to him by the Bombay Government. I had listened to the Arab sheikhs, friends of the Doctor, advising them in mild tones to give them up; I had witnessed the mutineer's stubbornness; and it was then, on the burzani of Sayd bin Majid's house, that I took advantage to open my mind on the subject, not only for the benefit of the stubborn slaves, but also for the benefit of the Arabs; and to tell them that it was well that I had found Livingstone alive, for if they had but injured a hair of his head, I should have gone back to the coast, to return with a party which would enable me to avenge him. I had been waiting to see Livingstone's guns returned to him every day, hoping that I should not have to use force; but when a month or more had elapsed, and still the arms had not been returned, I applied for permission to take them, which was granted. Susi, the gallant servant of Dr. Livingstone, was immediately despatched with about a dozen armed men to recover them, and in a few minutes we had possession of them without further trouble. The Doctor had resolved to accompany me to Unyanyembe, in order to meet his stores, which had been forwarded from Zanzibar, November 1st, 1870. As I had charge of the escort, it was my duty to study well the several routes to Unyanyembe from Ujiji. I was sufficiently aware of the difficulties and the responsibilities attached to me while escorting such a man. Besides, my own personal feelings were involved in the case. If Livingstone came to any harm through any indiscretion of mine while he was with me, it would immediately be said, "Ah! had he not accompanied Stanley, he would have been alive now." I took out my chart--the one I had made myself--in which I had perfect faith, and I sketched out a route which would enable us to reach Unyanyembe without paying a single cloth as tribute, and without encountering any worse thing than a jungle, by which we could avoid all the Wavinza and the plundering Wahha. This peaceable, secure route led by water, south, along the coast of Ukaranga and Ukawendi, to Cape Tongwe. Arriving at Cape Tongwe, I should be opposite the village of Itaga, Sultan Imrera, in the district of Rusawa of Ukawendi; after which we should strike my old road, which I had traversed from Unyanyembe, when bound for Ujiji. I explained it to the Doctor, and he instantly recognised its feasibility and security; and if I struck Imrera, as I proposed to do, it would demonstrate whether my chart was correct or not. We arrived at Ujiji from our tour of discovery, north of the Tanganika, December 13th; and from this date the Doctor commenced writing his letters to his numerous friends, and to copy into his mammoth Letts's Diary, from his field books, the valuable information he had acquired during his years of travel south and west of the Tanganika. I sketched him while sitting in his shirt-sleeves in the veranda, with his Letts's Diary on his knee; and the likeness on the frontispiece is an admirable portrait of him, because the artist who has assisted me, has with an intuitive eye, seen the defects in my own sketch; and by this I am enabled to restore him to the reader's view exactly as I saw him--as he pondered on what he had witnessed during his long marches. Soon after my arrival at Ujiji, he had rushed to his paper, and indited a letter to James Gordon Bennett, Esq., wherein he recorded his thanks; and after he had finished it, I asked him to add the word "Junior" to it, as it was young Mr. Bennett to whom he was indebted. I thought the letter admirable, and requested the Doctor not to add another word to it. The feelings of his heart had found expression in the grateful words he had written; and if I judged Mr. Bennett rightly, I knew he would be satisfied with it. For it was not the geographical news he cared so much about, as the grand fact of Livingstone's being alive or dead. In this latter part of December he was writing letters to his children, to Sir Roderick Murchison, and to Lord Granville. He had intended to have written to the Earl of Clarendon, but it was my sad task to inform him of the death of that distinguished nobleman. In the meantime I was preparing the Expedition for its return march to Unyanyembe, apportioning the bales and luggage, the Doctor's large tin boxes, and my own among my own men; for I had resolved upon permitting the Doctor's men to march as passengers, because they had so nobly performed their duty to their master. Sayd bin Majid had left, December 12, for Mirambo's country, to give the black Bonaparte battle for the murder of his son Soud in the forests of Wilyankuru; and he had taken with him 300 stout fellows, armed with guns, from Ujiji. The stout-hearted old chief was burning with rage and resentment, and a fine warlike figure he made with his 7-foot gun. Before we had departed for the Rusizi, I had wished him bon voyage, and expressed a hope that he would rid the Central African world of the tyrant Mirambo. On the 20th of December the rainy season was ushered in with heavy rain, thunder, lightning, and hail; the thermometer falling to 66 degrees Fahrenheit. The evening of this day I was attacked with urticaria, or "nettle rash," for the third time since arriving in Africa, and I suffered a woeful sickness; and it was the forerunner of an attack of remittent fever, which lasted four days. This is the malignant type, which has proved fatal to so many African travellers on the Zambezi, the White Nile, the Congo, and the Niger. The head throbs, the pulses bound, the heart struggles painfully, while the sufferer's thoughts are in a strange world, such only as a sick man's fancy can create. This was the fourth attack of fever since the day I met Livingstone. The excitement of the march, and the high hope which my mind constantly nourished, had kept my body almost invincible against an attack of fever while advancing towards Ujiji; but two weeks after the great event had transpired my energies were relaxed, my mind was perfectly tranquil, and I became a victim. Christmas came, and the Doctor and I had resolved upon the blessed and time-honoured day being kept as we keep it in Anglo-Saxon lands, with a feast such as Ujiji could furnish us. The fever had quite gone from me the night before, and on Christmas morning, though exceedingly weak, I was up and dressed, and lecturing Ferajji, the cook, upon the importance of this day to white men, and endeavouring to instil into the mind of the sleek and pampered animal some cunning secrets of the culinary art. Fat broad-tailed sheep, goats, zogga and pombe, eggs, fresh milk, plantains, singwe, fine cornflour, fish, onions, sweet potatoes, &c., &c., were procured in the Ujiji market, and from good old Moeni Kheri. But, alas! for my weakness. Ferajji spoiled the roast, and our custard was burned--the dinner was a failure. That the fat-brained rascal escaped a thrashing was due only to my inability to lift my hands for punishment; but my looks were dreadful and alarming, and capable of annihilating any one except Ferajji. The stupid, hard-headed cook only chuckled, and I believe he had the subsequent gratification of eating the pies, custards, and roast that his carelessness had spoiled for European palates. Sayd bin Majid, previous to his departure, had left orders that we should be permitted to use his canoe for our homeward trip, and Moeni Kheri kindly lent his huge vessel for the same purpose. The Expedition, now augmented by the Doctor and his five servants, and their luggage, necessitated the employment of another canoe. We had our flocks of milch-goats and provision of fat sheep for the jungle of Ukawendi, the transit of which I was about to attempt. Good Halimah, Livingstone's cook, had made ready a sackful of fine flour, such as she only could prepare in her fond devotion for her master. Hamoydah, her husband, also had freely given his assistance and attention to this important article of food. I purchased a donkey for the Doctor, the only one available in Ujiji, lest the Doctor might happen to suffer on the long march from his ancient enemy. In short, we were luxuriously furnished with food, sheep, goats, cheese, cloth, donkeys, and canoes, sufficient to convey us a long distance; we needed nothing more. The 27th of December has arrived; it is the day of our departure from Ujiji. I was probably about to give an eternal farewell to the port whose name will for ever be sacred in my memory. The canoes--great lumbering hollow trees--are laden with good things; the rowers are in their places; the flag of England is hoisted at the stern of the Doctor's canoe; the flag of America waves and rustles joyously above mine; and I cannot look at them without feeling a certain pride that the two Anglo-Saxon nations are represented this day on this great inland sea, in the face of wild nature and barbarism. We are escorted to our boats by the great Arab merchants, by the admiring children of Unyamwezi, by the freemen of Zanzibar, by wondering Waguhha and Wajiji, by fierce Warundi, who are on this day quiet, even sorrowful, that the white men are going-"Whither?" they all ask. At 8 A.M. we start, freely distributing our farewells as the Arabs and quidnuncs wave their hands. On the part of one or two of them there was an attempt to say something sentimental and affecting, especially by the convicted sinner Mohammed bin Sali; but though outwardly I manifested no disapprobation of his words, or of the emphatic way in which he shook my hand, I was not sorry to see the last of him, after his treachery to Livingstone in 1869. I was earnestly requested to convey to Unyanyembe "Mengi salaams" to everybody, but had I done so, as he evidently desired me to do, I would not have been surprised at being regarded by all as hopelessly imbecile. We pushed off from the clayey bank at the foot of the market-place, while the land party, unencumbered with luggage, under the leadership of gigantic Asmani and Bombay, commenced their journey southward along the shores of the lake. We had arranged to meet them at the mouth of every river to transport them across from bank to bank. The Doctor being in Sayd bin Majid's boat, which was a third or so shorter than the one under my command, took the lead, with the British flag, held aloft by a bamboo, streaming behind like a crimson meteor. My boat-manned by Wajiji sailors, whom we had engaged to take the canoes back from Tongwe Cape to Ujiji Bunder--came astern, and had a much taller flagstaff, on which was hoisted the ever-beautiful Stars and Stripes. Its extreme height drew from the Doctor--whose patriotism and loyalty had been excited--the remark that he would cut down the tallest palmyra for his flagstaff, as it was not fitting that the British flag should be so much lower than that of the United States. Our soldiers were not a whit behind us in lightheartedness at the thought of going to Unyanyembe. They struck up the exhilarating song of the Zanzibar boatmen, with the ecstatic chorus-- Kinan de re re Kitunga, rowing away like madmen, until they were compelled to rest from sheer exhaustion, while the perspiration exuded from the pores of their bodies in streams. When refreshed, they bent back to their oars, raising the song of the Mrima-- O mama, re de mi Ky, which soon impelled them to an extravagant effort again, It was by this series of ferocious spurts, racing, shouting, singing, perspiring, laughing, groaning, and puffing, that our people vented their joyous feelings, as the thought filled their minds that we were homeward bound, and that by the route I had adopted between us and Unyanyembe there was not the least danger. We have given the Waha, the slip! ha, ha! The Wavinza will trouble us no more! ho! ho! Mionvu can get no more cloth from us! by,by! And Kiala will see us no more---never more! he, he! they shouted with wild bursts of laughter, seconded by tremendous and rapid strokes with their oars, which caused the stiff old canoes to quiver from stem to stern. Our party ashore seemed to partake of our excitement, and joined in the wild refrain of the mad African song. We watched them urging their steps forward to keep pace with us, as we rounded the capes and points, and rowed across the bays whose margins were sedge, and rush, and reed; the tiny and agile Kalulu, little Bilali, and Majwara were seen racing the herds of goats, sheep, and donkeys which belonged to the caravan, and the animals even seemed to share the general joy. Nature, also--proud, wild nature-0-with the lofty azure dome upheaved into infinity--with her breadth and depth of vivid greenness and enormous vastness on our left--with her immense sheet of bright, glancing water--with her awful and intense serenity--she partook of and added to our joy. About 10 A.M. we arrived at Kirindo's, an old chief, noted for his singular kindness to Dr. Livingstone, while he bore animosity to the Arabs. To the Arabs this was unaccountable--to the Doctor it was plain: he had but spoken kind and sincere words, while all the Arabs spoke to him as if he were not even a man, least of all a chief. Kirindo's place is at the mouth of the Liuche, which is very wide; the river oozes out through a forest of eschinomenae (pith tree). This was a rendezvous agreed upon between shore and lake parties, that the canoes might all cross to the other side, distant a mile and a half. The mouth of the Liuche forms the Bay of Ukaranga, so named because on the other side, whither we were about to cross our party, was situated the village of Ukaranga, a few hundred yards from the lake. All the baggage was taken out of the largest canoe, and stowed snugly in the smaller one, and a few select oarsmen having taken seats, pushed off with the Doctor on board, who was to superintend pitching the encampment at Ukaranga; while I remained behind to bind the fractious and ill-natured donkeys, and stow them away in the bottom of the large canoe, that no danger of upsetting might be incurred, and a consequent gobbling-up by hungry crocodiles, which were all about us waiting their opportunity. The flock of goats were then embarked, and as many of our people as could be got in. About thirty still remained behind with myself, for whom my canoe was to return. We all arrived safe at Ukaranga, though we got dangerously near a herd of hippopotami. The crossing of the wide mouth (the Liuche being then in flood) was effected in about four hours. The next day, in the same order as on our departure from Ujiji, we pursued our way south, the lake party keeping as closely as possible to the shore, yet, when feasible, wind and weather permitting, we struck off boldly across the numerous small bays which indent the shores of the Tanganika. The shores were beautifully green, the effect of the late rains; the waters of the lake were a faithful reflex of the blue firmament above. The hippopotami were plentiful. Those noticed on this day were coloured with reddish rings round the base of their ears and on the neck. One monster, coming up rather late, was surprised by the canoe making full for him, and in great fright took a tremendous dive which showed the whole length of his body. Half way between the mouth of the Malagarazi and that of the Liuche we saw a camp on shore--that of Mohammed bin Gharib, a Msawahili, who figured often in Livingstone's verbal narrative to me of his adventures and travels as one of the kindest and best of the Moslems in Central Africa. He appeared to me a kindly disposed man, with a face seldom seen, having the stamp of an unusual characteristic on it--that of sincerity. The vegetation of the shores as we proceeded was truly tropical, each curve revealed new beauties. With the soft chalky stone, of which most of the cliffs and bluffs are made, seen as we neared the mouth of the Malagarazi, the surf has played strange freaks. We arrived at the mouth of the Malagarazi about P.M., having rowed eighteen miles from Ukaranga. The shore party arrived, very much fatigued, about 5 P.M. The next day was employed in crossing the caravan across the broad mouth of the Malagarazi to our camp, a couple of miles north of the river. This is a river which a civilised community would find of immense advantage for shortening the distance between the Tanganika and the coast. Nearly one hundred miles might be performed by this river, which is deep enough at all seasons to allow navigation as far as Kiala, in Uvinza, whence a straight road might be easily made to Unyanyembe. Missionaries also might reap the same benefit from it for conversion-tours to Uvinza, Uhha, and Ugala. Pursuing our way on the 30th, and rounding the picturesque capes of Kagongo, Mviga and Kivoe, we came, after about three hours' rowing, in sight of villages at the mouth of the swift and turbid Rugufu. Here we had again to transport the caravan ever the crocodile-infested mouth of the river. On the morning of the 31st we sent a canoe with men to search for food in the two or three villages that were visible on the other side. Four doti purchased just sufficient for four days for our caravan of forty-eight persons. We then got under weigh, having informed the kirangozi that Urimba was our destination, and bidding him keep as closely as possible to the lake shore, where it was practicable, but if not, to make the best he could of it. From the debouchement of the Rugufu, the headwaters of which we had crossed on our random route to Ujiji, to Urimba, a distance of six days by water, there are no villages, and consequently no food. The shore party, however, before leaving Ujiji, had eight days' rations, and on this morning four days', distributed to each person, and therefore was in no danger of starvation should the mountain headlands, now unfolding, abrupt and steep, one after another, prevent them from communicating with us. It must be understood that such a journey as this had never been attempted before by any Arab or Msawahili, and every step taken was in sheer ignorance of where the road would lead the men ashore. Rounding Kivoe's steep promontory, whose bearded ridge and rugged slope, wooded down to the water's edge, whose exquisite coves and quiet recesses, might well have evoked a poetical effusion to one so inclined, we dared the chopping waves of Kivoe's bay, and stood direct for the next cape, Mizohazy, behind which, owing to wind and wave, we were compelled to halt for the night. After Mizohazy is the bold cape of Kabogo--not the terrible Kabogo around whose name mystery has been woven by the superstitious natives--not the Kabogo whose sullen thunder and awful roar were heard when crossing the Rugufu on our flight from the Wahha---but a point in Ukaranga, on whose hard and uninviting rocks many a canoe has been wrecked. We passed close to its forbidding walls, thankful for the calm of the Tanganika. Near Kabogo are some very fine mvule trees, well adapted for canoe building, and there are no loud-mouthed natives about to haggle for the privilege of cutting them. Along the water's edge, and about three feet above it, was observed very clearly on the smooth face of the rocky slopes of Kabogo the high-water mark of the lake. This went to show that the Tanganika, during the rainy season, rises about three feet above its dry season level, and that, during the latter season, evaporation reduces it to its normal level. The number of rivers which we passed on this journey enabled me to observe whether, as I was told, there was any current setting north. It was apparent to me that, while the south-west, south, or south-east winds blew, the brown flood of the rivers swept north; but it happened that, while passing, once or twice, the mouths of rivers, after a puff from the north-west and north, that the muddied waters were seen southward of the mouths; from which I conclude that there is no current in the Tanganika except such as is caused by the fickle wind. Finding a snug nook of a bay at a place called Sigunga, we put in for lunch. An island at the mouth of the bay suggested to our minds that this was a beautiful spot for a mission station; the grandly sloping hills in the background, with an undulating shelf of land well-wooded between them and the bay, added to the attractions of such a spot. The island, capable of containing quite a large village, and perfectly defensible, might, for prudence' sake, contain the mission and its congregation; the landlocked bay would protect their fishery and trade vessels; more than sustain a hundred times the number of the population of the island. Wood for building their canoes and houses is close at hand; the neighbouring country would afford game in abundance; and the docile and civil people of Ukaranga but wait religious shepherds. From beautiful Sigunga, after a brief halt, we set off, and, after three hours, arrived at the mouth of the River Uwelasia. Hippopotami and crocodiles being numerous; we amused ourselves by shooting at them, having also a hope of attracting the attention of our shore party, the sound of whose guns we had not heard since leaving the Rugufu. On the 3rd of January we left Uwelasia, and, passing by Cape Herembe, were in the bay of Tongwe. This bay is about twenty-five miles broad, and stretches from Cape Herembe to Cape Tongwe. Finding themselves so near their destination, Urimba being but six miles from Herembe Point, the men of both boats bent themselves to their oars, and, with shouts, songs, and laughter, encouraged each other to do their utmost. The flags of the two great Anglo-Saxon nations rippled and played in the soft breeze, sometimes drawing near caressingly together, again bending away, like two lovers coy to unite. The tight little boat of the Doctor would keep ahead, and the crimson and crossed flag of England would wave before me, and it seemed to say to the beautiful laggard astern, "Come on, come on; England leads the way." But was it not England's place to be in the front here? She won the right to it by discovering the Tanganika; America came but second. Urimba, though a large district of Kawendi, has a village of the same name peopled by refugees from Yombeh, who found the delta of the Loajeri, though the unhealthiest of spots--equal to that of the Rusizi--far preferable to the neighbourhood of Sultan Pumburu, of Southern Kawendi. A good chase by the victors seems to have given a shock to their systems, for they are very timid and distrustful of strangers, and would by no means permit us to enter their village, of which, to say the truth, I was very glad, after a glance at the reeking corruption on which they were encamped. In the immediate neighbourhood--nay, for a couple of miles on either side--I should suppose that to a white man it were death to sleep a single night. Leading the way south of the village, I found a fit camping-place at the extreme south-east corner of Tongwe Bay, about a mile and a half due west of the lofty peak of Kivanga, or Kakungu. By an observation taken by the Doctor, we found ourselves to be in latitude 5 degrees 54 minutes south. None of the natives had heard of our shore party, and, as the delta of the Loajeri and Mogambazi extended for about fifteen miles, and withal was the most impassable of places, being perfectly flat, overgrown with the tallest of matete, eschinomenae, and thorny bush, and flooded with water, it was useless to fatigue our men searching for the shore party in such an inhospitable country. No provisions were procurable, for the villages were in a state of semi-starvation, the inhabitants living from hand to mouth on what reluctant Fortune threw into their nets. The second day of our arrival at Urimba I struck off into the interior with my gun-bearer, Kalulu, carrying the Doctor's splendid double-barreled rifle (a Reilly, No. 12), on the search for venison. After walking about a mile I came to a herd of zebras. By creeping on all-fours I managed to come within one hundred yards of them; but I was in a bad spot--low prickly shrubs; and tsetse flies alighting on the rifle-sight, biting my nose, and dashing into my eyes, completely disconcerted me; and, to add to my discontent, my efforts to disengage myself from the thorns, alarmed the zebras, which all stood facing the suspicious object in the bush. I fired at the breast of one, but, as might be expected, missed. The zebras galloped away to about three hundred yards off, and I dashed into the open, and, hastily cocking the left-hand trigger, aimed at a proud fellow trotting royally before his fellows, and by good chance sent a bullet through his heart. A fortunate shot also brought down a huge goose, which had a sharp horny spur on the fore part of each wing. This supply of meat materially contributed towards the provisioning of the party for the transit of the unknown land that lay between us and Mrera, in Rusawa, Kawendi. It was not until the third day of our arrival at our camp at Urimba that our shore party arrived. They had perceived our immense flag hoisted on a twenty-feet long bamboo above the tallest tree near our camp as they surmounted the sharp lofty ridge behind Nerembe, fifteen miles off, and had at first taken it for a huge bird; but there were sharp eyes in the crowd, and, guided by it, they came to camp, greeted as only lost and found men are greeted. I suffered from another attack of fever at this camp, brought on by the neighbourhood of the vile delta, the look of which sickened the very heart in me. On the 7th of January we struck camp, and turned our faces eastward, and for me, home! Yet regretfully! There had been enough happiness and pleasure, and pleasantest of social companionship found on the shores of the lake for me. I had seen enough lovely scenes which, siren-like, invited one to quiet rest; gentle scenes, where there was neither jar nor tumult, neither strife nor defeat, neither hope nor disappointment, but rest-a drowsy, indolent, yet pleasant rest. And only a few drawbacks to these. There was fever; there were no books, no newspapers, no wife of my own race and blood, no theatres, no hotels, no restaurants, no East River oysters, no mince-pies, neither buckwheat cakes, nor anything much that was good for a cultivated palate to love. So, in turning to say farewell to the then placid lake and the great blue mountains, that grew bluer as they receded on either hand, I had the courage to utter that awful word tearlessly, and without one sigh. Our road led up through the valley of the Loajeri, after leaving its delta, a valley growing ever narrower, until it narrowed into a ravine choked by the now roaring, bellowing river, whose resistless rush seemed to affect the very air we breathed. It was getting oppressive, this narrowing ravine, and opportunely the road breasted a knoll, then a terrace, then a hill, and lastly a mountain, where we halted to encamp. As we prepared to select a camping-place, the Doctor silently pointed forward, and suddenly a dead silence reigned everywhere. The quinine which I had taken in the morning seemed to affect me in every crevice of my brain; but a bitter evil remained, and, though I trembled under the heavy weight of the Reilly rifle, I crept forward to where the Doctor was pointing. I found myself looking down a steep ravine, on the other bank of which a fine buffalo cow was scrambling upward. She had just reached the summit, and was turning round to survey her enemy, when I succeeded in planting a shot just behind the shoulder blade, and close to the spine, evoking from her a deep bellow of pain. "She is shot! she is shot!" exclaimed the Doctor; "that is a sure sign you have hit her." And the men even raised a shout at the prospect of meat. A second, planted in her spine, brought her to her knees, and a third ended her. We thus had another supply of provisions, which, cut up and dried over a fire, as the Wangwana are accustomed to do, would carry them far over the unpeopled wilderness before us. For the Doctor and myself, we had the tongue, the hump, and a few choice pieces salted down, and in a few days had prime corned beef. It is not inapt to state that the rifle had more commendations bestowed on it than the hunter by the Wangwana. The next day we continued the march eastward, under the guidance of our kirangozi; but it was evident, by the road he led us, that he knew nothing of the country, though, through his volubility, he had led us to believe that he knew all about Ngondo, Yombeh, and Pumburu's districts. When recalled from the head of the caravan, we were about to descend into the rapid Loajeri, and beyond it were three ranges of impassable mountains, which we were to cross in a north-easterly direction; quite out of our road. After consulting with the Doctor, I put myself at the head of the caravan, and following the spine of the ridge, struck off due east, regardless of how the road ran. At intervals a travelled road crossed our path, and, after following it a while, we came to the ford of the Loajeri. The Loajeri rises south and south-east of Kakungu Peak. We made the best we could of the road after crossing the river, until we reached the main path that runs from Karah to Ngondo and Pumburu, in Southern Kawendi. On the 9th, soon after leaving camp, we left the travelled path, and made for a gap in the are of hills before us, as Pumburu was at war with the people of Manya Msenge, a district of northern Kawendi. The country teemed with game, the buffaloes and zebras were plentiful. Among the conspicuous trees were the hyphene and borassus palm trees, and a tree bearing a fruit about the size of a 600-pounder cannon-ball, called by some natives "mabyah,"* according to the Doctor, the seeds of which are roasted and eaten. They are not to be recommended as food to Europeans. * In the Kisawahili tongue, "mabyah," "mbyah, "byah," mean bad, unpleasant. On the 10th, putting myself at the head of my men, with my compass in hand, I led the way east for three hours. A beautiful park-land was revealed to us; but the grass was very tall, and the rainy season, which had commenced in earnest, made my work excessively disagreeable. Through this tall grass, which was as high as my throat, I had to force my way, compass in hand, to lead the Expedition, as there was not the least sign of a road, and we were now in an untravelled country. We made our camp on a beautiful little stream flowing north; one of the feeders of the Rugufu River. The 11th still saw me plunging through the grass, which showered drops of rain on me every time I made a step forward. In two hours we crossed a small stream, with slippery syenitic rocks in its bed, showing the action of furious torrents. Mushrooms were in abundance, and very large. In crossing, an old pagazi of Unyamwezi, weather-beaten, uttered, in a deplorable tone, "My kibuyu is dead;" by which he meant that he had slipped, and in falling had broken his gourd, which in Kisawahili is "kibuyu." On the eastern bank we halted for lunch, and, after an hour and a half's march, arrived at another stream, which I took to be the Mtambu, at first from the similarity of the land, though my map informed me that it was impossible. The scenery around was very similar, and to the north we had cited a similar tabular hill to the "Magdala" Mount I had discovered north of Imrera, while going to the Malagarazi. Though we had only travelled three and a half hours the Doctor was very tired as the country was exceedingly rough. The next day, crossing several ranges, with glorious scenes of surpassing beauty everywhere around us, we came in view of a mighty and swift torrent, whose bed was sunk deep between enormous lofty walls of sandstone rock, where it roared and brawled with the noise of a little Niagara. Having seen our camp prepared on a picturesque knoll, I thought I would endeavour to procure some meat, which this interesting region seemed to promise. I sallied out with my little Winchester along the banks of the river eastward. I travelled for an hour or two, the prospect getting more picturesque and lovely, and then went up a ravine which looked very promising. Unsuccessful, I strode up the bank, and my astonishment may be conceived when I found myself directly in front of an elephant, who had his large broad ears held out like studding sails--the colossal monster, the incarnation of might of the African world. Methought when I saw his trunk stretched forward, like a warning finger, that I heard a voice say, "Siste, Venator!" But whether it did not proceed from my imagination or--No; I believe it proceeded from Kalulu, who must have shouted, "Tembo, tembo! bana yango!" "Lo! an elephant! an elephant, my master!" For the young rascal had fled as soon as he had witnessed the awful colossus in such close vicinage. Recovering from my astonishment, I thought it prudent to retire also--especially, with a pea-shooter loaded with treacherous sawdust cartridges in my hand. As I looked behind, I saw him waving his trunk, which I understood to mean, "Good-bye, young fellow; it is lucky for you you went in time, for I was going to pound you to a jelly." As I was congratulating myself, a wasp darted fiercely at me and planted its sting in my neck, and for that afternoon my anticipated pleasures were dispelled. Arriving at camp I found the men grumbling; their provisions were ended, and there was no prospect for three days, at least, of procuring any. With the improvidence usual with the gluttons, they had eaten their rations of grain, all their store of zebra and dried buffalo meat, and were now crying out that they were famished. The tracks of animals were numerous, but it being the rainy season the game was scattered everywhere; whereas, had we travelled during the dry season through these forests our larders might have been supplied fresh each day. Some time about 6 P.M., as the Doctor and I were taking our tea outside the tent, a herd of elephants, twelve in number, passed about 800 yards off. Our fundi, Asmani and Mabruki Kisesa, were immediately despatched in pursuit. I would have gone myself with the heavy Reilly rifle, only I was too much fatigued. We soon heard their guns firing, and hoped they were successful, as a plentiful supply of meat might then have been procured, while we ourselves would have secured one of the elephant's feet for a nice delicate roast; but within an hour they returned unsuccessful, having only drawn blood, some of which they exhibited to us on a leaf. It requires a very good rifle to kill an African elephant. A No. 8 bore with a Frazer's shell, planted in the temple, I believe, would drop an elephant each shot. Faulkner makes some extraordinary statements, about walking up in front of an elephant and planting a bullet in his forehead, killing him instantly. The tale, however, is so incredible that I would prefer not to believe it; especially when he states that the imprint of the muzzle of his rifle was on the elephant's trunk. African travellers--especially those with a taste for the chase--are too fond of relating that which borders on the incredible for ordinary men to believe them. Such stories must be taken with a large grain of salt, for the sake of the amusement they afford to readers at home. In future, whenever I hear a man state how he broke the back of an antelope at 600 yards, I shall incline to believe a cipher had been added by a slip of the pen, or attribute it to a typographical error, for this is almost an impossible feat in an African forest. It may be done once, but it could never be done twice running. An antelope makes a very small target at 600 yards distance; but, then, all these stories belong by right divine to the chasseur who travels to Africa for the sake only of sport. On the 13th we continued our march across several ridges; and the series of ascents and descents revealed to us valleys and mountains never before explored streams; rushing northward, swollen by the rains, and grand primeval forests, in whose twilight shade no white man ever walked before. On the 14th the same scenes were witnessed--an unbroken series of longitudinal ridges, parallel one with another and with Lake Tanganika. Eastward the faces of these ridges present abrupt scarps and terraces, rising from deep valleys, while the western declivities have gradual slopes. These are the peculiar features of Ukawendi, the eastern watershed of the Tanganika. In one of these valleys on this day we came across a colony of reddish-bearded monkeys, whose howls, or bellowing, rang amongst the cliffs as they discovered the caravan. I was not able to approach them, for they scrambled up trees and barked their defiance at me, then bounded to the ground as I still persisted in advancing; and they would have soon drawn me in pursuit if I had not suddenly remembered that my absence was halting the Expedition. About noon we sighted our Magdala--the grand towering mount whose upright frowning mass had attracted our eyes, as it lifted itself from above the plain in all its grandeur, when we were hurrying along the great ridge of Rusawa towards the "Crocodile" River. We recognised the old, mystic beauty of the tree-clad plain around it. Then it was bleached, and a filmy haze covered it lovingly; now it was vivid greenness. Every vegetable, plant, herb and tree, had sprung into quick life--the effect of the rains. Rivers that ran not in those hot summer days now fumed and rushed impetuously between thick belts of mighty timber, brawling hoarsely in the glades. We crossed many of these streams, all of which are feeders of the Rugufu. Beautiful, bewitching Ukawendi! By what shall I gauge the loveliness of the wild, free, luxuriant, spontaneous nature within its boundaries? By anything in Europe? No. By anything in Asia? Where? India, perhaps. Yes; or say Mingrelia and Imeritia. For there we have foaming rivers; we have picturesque hillocks; we have bold hills, ambitious mountains, and broad forests, with lofty solemn rows of trees, with clean straight stems, through which you can see far, lengthy vistas, as you see here. Only in Ukawendi you can almost behold the growth of vegetation; the earth is so generous, nature so kind and loving, that without entertaining any aspiration for a residence, or a wish to breathe the baleful atmosphere longer than is absolutely necessary, one feels insensibly drawn towards it, as the thought creeps into his mind, that though all is foul beneath the captivating, glamorous beauty of the land, the foulness might be removed by civilized people, and the whole region made as healthy as it is productive. Even while staggering under the pressure of the awful sickness, with mind getting more and more embittered, brain sometimes reeling with the shock of the constantly recurring fevers--though I knew how the malaria, rising out of that very fairness, was slowly undermining my constitution, and insidiously sapping the powers of mind and body--I regarded the alluring face of the land with a fatuous love, and felt a certain sadness steal over me as each day I was withdrawing myself from it, and felt disposed to quarrel with the fate that seemed to eject me out of Ukawendi. On the ninth day of our march from the shores of the Tanganika we again perceived our "Magdala Mount," rising like a dark cloud to the north-east, by which I knew that we were approaching Imrera, and that our Icarian attempt to cross the uninhabited jungle of Ukawendi would soon be crowned with success. Against the collective counsel of the guides, and hypothetical suggestions of the tired and hungry souls of our Expedition, I persisted in being guided only by the compass and my chart. The guides strenuously strove to induce me to alter my course and strike in a south-west direction, which, had I listened to them, would have undoubtedly taken me to South-western Ukonongo, or North-eastern Ufipa. The veteran and experienced soldiers asked mournfully if I were determined to kill them with famine, as the road I should have taken was north-east; but I preferred putting my trust in the compass. No sun shone upon us as we threaded our way through the primeval forest, by clumps of jungle, across streams, up steep ridges, and down into deep valleys. A thick haze covered the forests; rain often pelted us; the firmament was an unfathomable depth of grey vapour. The Doctor had perfect confidence in me, and I held on my way. As soon as we arrived at our camp the men scattered themselves through the forest to search for food. A grove of singwe trees was found close by. Mushrooms grew in abundance, and these sufficed to appease the gnawing hunger from which the people suffered. Had it not been such rainy weather I should have been enabled to procure game for the camp; but the fatigue which I suffered, and the fever which enervated me, utterly prevented me from moving out of the camp after we once came to a halt. The fear of lions, which were numerous in our vicinity, whose terrible roaring was heard by day and by night, daunted the hunters so much, that though I offered five doti of cloth for every animal brought to camp, none dared penetrate the gloomy glades, or awesome belts of timber, outside the friendly defence of the camp. The morning of the tenth day I assured the people that we were close to food; cheered the most amiable of them with promise of abundant provender, and hushed the most truculent knaves with a warning not to tempt my patience too much, lest we came to angry blows; and then struck away east by north through the forest, with the almost exhausted Expedition dragging itself weakly and painfully behind me. It was a most desperate position certainly, and I pitied the poor people far more than they pitied themselves; and though I fumed and stormed in their presence when they were disposed to lie down and give up, never was a man further from doing them injury. I was too proud of them; but under the circumstances it was dangerous--nay, suicidal--to appear doubtful or dubious of the road. The mere fact that I still held on my way according to the Doctor's little pearly monitor (the compass) had a grand moral effect on them, and though they demurred in plaintive terms and with pinched faces, they followed my footsteps with a trustfulness which quite affected me. For long miles we trudged over smooth sloping sward, with a vision of forest and park-land beauty on our right and left, and in front of us such as is rarely seen. At a pace that soon left the main body of the Expedition far behind, I strode on with a few gallant fellows, who, despite their heavy loads, kept pace with me. After a couple of hours we were ascending the easy slope of a ridge, which promised to decide in a few minutes the truth or the inaccuracy of my chart. Presently we arrived at the eastern edge of the ridge, and about five miles away, and 1,000 feet below the high plateau on which we stood, we distinguished the valley of Imrera! By noon we were in our old camp. The natives gathered round, bringing supplies of food, and to congratulate us upon having gone to Ujiji and returned. But it was long before the last member of the Expedition arrived. The Doctor's feet were very sore, bleeding from the weary march. His shoes were in a very worn-out state, and he had so cut and slashed them with a knife to ease his blistered feet, that any man of our force would have refused them as a gift, no matter how ambitious he might be to encase his feet a la Wasungu. Asmani, the guide, was very much taken aback when he discovered that the tiny compass knew the way better than he did, and he declared it as his solemn opinion that it could not lie. He suffered much in reputation from having contested the palm with the "little thing," and ever afterwards his boasted knowledge of the country was considerably doubted. After halting a day to recruit ourselves, we continued our journey on the 18th January, 1872, towards Unyanyembe. A few miles beyond Imrera, Asmani lost the road again, and I was obliged to show it to him, by which I gained additional honour and credit as a leader and guide. My shoes were very bad, and it was difficult to decide whose were the worst in condition, the Doctor's or mine. A great change had come upon the face of the land since I had passed northward en route to Ujiji. The wild grapes now hung in clusters along the road; the corn ears were advanced enough to pluck and roast for food; the various plants shed their flowers; and the deep woods and grasses of the country were greener than ever. On the 19th we arrived at Mpokwa's deserted village. The Doctor's feet were very much chafed and sore by the marching. He had walked on foot all the way from Urimba, though he owned a donkey; while I, considerably to my shame be it said, had ridden occasionally to husband my strength, that I might be enabled to hunt after arrival at camp. Two huts were cleared for our use, but, just as we had made ourselves comfortable, our sharp-eyed fellows had discovered several herds of game in the plain west of Mpokwa. Hastily devouring a morsel of corn-bread with coffee, I hastened away, with Bilali for a gunbearer, taking with me the famous Reilly rifle of the Doctor and a supply of Fraser's shells. After plunging through a deep stream, and getting wet again, and pushing my way through a dense brake, I arrived at a thin belt of forest, through which I was obliged to crawl, and, in half an hour, I had arrived within one hundred and forty yards of a group of zebras, which were playfully biting each other under the shade of a large tree. Suddenly rising up, I attracted their attention; but the true old rifle was at my shoulder, and "crack--crack" went both barrels, and two fine zebras, a male and female, fell dead under the tree where they had stood. In a few seconds their throats were cut, and after giving the signal of my success, I was soon surrounded by a dozen of my men, who gave utterance to their delight by fulsome compliments to the merits of the rifle, though very few to me. When I returned to camp with the meat I received the congratulations of the Doctor, which I valued far higher, as he knew from long experience what shooting was. When the eatable portions of the two zebras were hung to the scale, we found, according to the Doctor's own figures, that we had 719 lbs. of good meat, which, divided among forty-four men, gave a little over 16 lbs. to each person. Bombay, especially, was very happy, as he had dreamed a dream wherein I figured prominently as shooting animals down right and left; and, when he had seen me depart with that wonderful Reilly rifle he had not entertained a doubt of my success, and, accordingly, had commanded the men to be ready to go after me, as soon as they should hear the reports of the gun. The following is quoted from my Diary: January 20th, 1872.--To-day was a halt. On going out for a hunt I saw a herd of eleven giraffes. After crossing Mpokwa stream I succeeded in getting within one hundred and fifty yards of one of them, and fired at it; but, though it was wounded, I did not succeed in dropping it, though I desired the skin of one of them very much. In the afternoon I went out to the east of the village, and came to a herd of six giraffes. I wounded one of them, but it got off, despite my efforts. What remarkable creatures they are! How beautiful their large limpid eyes! I could have declared on oath that both shots had been a success, but they sheered off with the stately movements of a clipper about to tack. When they ran they had an ungainly, dislocated motion, somewhat like the contortions of an Indian nautch or a Theban danseuse--a dreamy, undulating movement, which even the tail, with its long fringe of black hair, seemed to partake of. The Doctor, who knew how to console an ardent but disappointed young hunter, attributed my non-success to shooting with leaden balls, which were too soft to penetrate the thick hide of the giraffes, and advised me to melt my zinc canteens with which to harden the lead. It was not the first time that I had cause to think the Doctor an admirable travelling companion; none knew so well how to console one for bad luck none knew so well how to elevate one in his own mind. If I killed a zebra, did not his friend Oswell--the South African hunter--and himself long ago come to the conclusion that zebra meat was the finest in Africa? If I shot a buffalo cow, she was sure to be the best of her kind, and her horns were worth while carrying home as specimens; and was she not fat? If I returned without anything, the game was very wild, or the people had made a noise, and the game had been frightened; and who could stalk animals already alarmed? Indeed, he was a most considerate companion, and, knowing him to be literally truthful, I was proud of his praise when successful, and when I failed I was easily consoled. Ibrahim, the old pagazi whose feelings had been so lacerated in Ukawendi, when his ancient kibuyu broke, before leaving Ujiji invested his cloth in a slave from Manyuema, who bore the name of "Ulimengo," which signifies the "World." As we approached Mpokwa, Ulimengo absconded with all his master's property, consisting of a few cloths and a bag of salt, which he had thought of taking to Unyanyembe for trade. Ibrahim was inconsolable, and he kept lamenting his loss daily in such lugubrious tones that the people, instead of sympathizing, laughed at him. I asked him why he purchased such a slave, and, while he was with him, why he did not feed him? Replied he, tartly, "Was he not my slave? Was not the cloth with which I bought him mine? If the cloth was my own, could I not purchase what I liked? Why do you talk so?" Ibrahim's heart was made glad this evening by the return of Ulimengo with the salt and the cloth, and the one-eyed old man danced with his great joy, and came in all haste to impart to me the glad news. "Lo, the 'World' has come back. Sure. My salt and my cloth are with him also. Sure." To which I replied, that he had better feed him in future, as slaves required food as well as their masters. From 10 P.M. to midnight the Doctor was employed in taking observations from the star Canopus, the result of which was that he ascertained Mpokwa, district of Utanda, Ukonongo, to be in S. latitude 6 degrees 18 minutes 40 seconds. On comparing it with its position as laid down in my map by dead reckoning, I found we differed by three miles; I having laid it down at 6 degrees 15 minutes south latitude. The day following was a halt. The Doctor's feet were so inflamed and sore that he could not bear his shoes on. My heels were also raw, and I viciously cut large circles out of my shoes to enable me to move about. Having converted my zinc canteens into bullets, and provided myself with a butcher and gun-bearer, I set out for the lovely park-land and plain west of Mpokwa stream, with the laudable resolution to obtain something; and seeing nothing in the plain, I crossed over a ridge, and came to a broad basin covered with tall grass, with clumps here and there of hyphene palm, with a stray mimosa or so scattered about. Nibbling off the branches of the latter, I saw a group of giraffes, and then began stalking them through the grass, taking advantage of the tall grass-grown ant-hills that I might approach the wary beasts before their great eyes could discover me. I contrived to come within 175 yards, by means of one of these curious hummocks; but beyond it no man could crawl without being observed--the grass was so thin and short. I took a long breath, wiped my perspiring brow, and sat down for a while; my black assistants also, like myself, were almost breathless with the exertion, and the high expectations roused by the near presence of the royal beasts. I toyed lovingly with the heavy Reilly, saw to my cartridges, and then stood up and turned, with my rifle ready; took one good, long, steady aim; then lowered it again to arrange the sights, lifted it up once more--dropped it. A giraffe half turned his body; for the last time I lifted it, took one quick sight at the region of the heart, and fired. He staggered, reeled, then made a short gallop; but the blood was spouting from the wound in a thick stream, and before he had gone 200 yards he came to a dead halt, with his ears drawn back, and allowed me to come within twenty yards of him, when, receiving a zinc bullet through the head, he fell dead. "Allah ho, akhbar!" cried Khamisi, my butcher, fervently. "This is meat, master!" I was rather saddened than otherwise at seeing the noble animal stretched before me. If I could have given him his life back I think I should have done so. I thought it a great pity that such splendid animals, so well adapted for the service of man in Africa, could not be converted to some other use than that of food. Horses, mules, and donkeys died in these sickly regions; but what a blessing for Africa would it be if we could tame the giraffes and zebras for the use of explorers and traders! Mounted on a zebra, a man would be enabled to reach Ujiji in one month from Bagamoyo; whereas it took me over seven months to travel that distance! The dead giraffe measured 16 feet 9 inches from his right fore-hoof to the top of his head, and was one of the largest size, though some have been found to measure over 17 feet. He was spotted all over with large black, nearly round, patches. I left Khamisi in charge of the dead beast, while I returned to camp to send off men to cut it up, and convey the meat to our village. But Khamisi climbed a tree for fear of the lions, and the vultures settled on it, so that when the men arrived on the spot, the eyes, the tongue, and a great part of the posteriors were eaten up. What remained weighed as follows, when brought in and hung to the scales: 1 hind leg.... 134 lbs. 1 " .... 136 " 1 fore leg.... 160 " I " .... 160 " Ribs...... 158 " Neck...... 74 " Rump...... 87 " Breast..... 46 " Liver..... 20 " Lungs..... 12 " Heart..... 6 " Total weight of eatable portions.. 993 lbs. Skin and head, 181 lbs. The three days following I suffered from a severe attack of fever, and was unable to stir from bed. I applied my usual remedies for it, which consisted of colocynth and quinine; but experience has shown me that an excessive use of the same cathartic weakens its effect, and that it would be well for travellers to take with them different medicines to cause proper action in the liver, such as colocynth, calomel, resin of jalap, Epsom salts; and that no quinine should be taken until such medicines shall have prepared the system for its reception. The Doctor's prescription for fever consists of 3 grains of resin of jalap, and 2 grains of calomel, with tincture of cardamoms put in just enough to prevent irritation of the stomach--made into the form of a pill--which is to be taken as soon as one begins to feel the excessive languor and weariness which is the sure forerunner of the African type of fever. An hour or two later a cup of coffee, unsugared and without milk, ought to be taken, to cause a quicker action. The Doctor also thinks that quinine should be taken with the pill; but my experience--though it weighs nothing against what he has endured--has proved to me that quinine is useless until after the medicine has taken effect. My stomach could never bear quinine unless subsequent to the cathartic. A well-known missionary at Constantinople recommends travellers to take 3 grains of tartar-emetic for the ejection of the bilious matter in the stomach; but the reverend doctor possibly forgets that much more of the system is disorganized than the stomach; and though in one or two cases of a slight attack, this remedy may have proved successful, it is altogether too violent for an enfeebled man in Africa. I have treated myself faithfully after this method three or four times; but I could not conscientiously recommend it. For cases of urticaria, I could recommend taking 3 grains of tartar-emetic; but then a stomach-pump would answer the purpose as well. On the 27th we set out for Misonghi. About half-way I saw the head of the Expedition on the run, and the motive seemed to be communicated quickly, man after man, to those behind, until my donkey commenced to kick, and lash behind with his heels. In a second, I was made aware of the cause of this excitement, by a cloud of wild bees buzzing about my head, three or four of which settled on my face, and stung me frightfully. We raced madly for about half a mile, behaving in as wild a manner as the poor bestung animals. As this was an unusually long march, I doubted if the Doctor could march it, because his feet were so sore, so I determined to send four men back with the kitanda; but the stout old hero refused to be carried, and walked all the way to camp after a march of eighteen miles. He had been stung dreadfully in the head and in the face; the bees had settled in handfuls in his hair; but, after partaking of a cup of warm tea and some food, he was as cheerful as if he had never travelled a mile. At Mrera, Central Ukonongo, we halted a day to grind grain, and to prepare the provision we should need during the transit of the wilderness between Mrera and Manyara. On the 31st of January, at Mwaru, Sultan Ka-mirambo, we met a caravan under the leadership of a slave of Sayd bin Habib, who came to visit us in our camp, which was hidden in a thick clump of jungle. After he was seated, and had taken his coffee, I asked, "What is thy news, my friend, that thou bast brought from Unyanyembe?" "My news is good, master." "How goes the war?" "Ah, Mirambo is where? He eats the hides even. He is famished. Sayd bin Habib, my master, hath possession of Kirira. The Arabs are thundering at the gates of Wilyankuru. Sayd bin Majid, who came from Ujiji to Usagozi in twenty days, hath taken and slain 'Moto' (Fire), the King. Simba of Kasera hath taken up arms for the defence of his father, Mkasiwa of Unyanyembe. The chief of Ugunda hath sent five hundred men to the field. Ough--Mirambo is where? In a month he will be dead of hunger." "Great and good news truly, my friend." "Yes-in the name of God." "And whither art thou bound with thy caravan?" "Sayd, the son of Majid, who came from Ujiji, hath told us of the road that the white man took, that he had arrived at Ujiji safely, and that he was on his way back to Unyanyembe. So we have thought that if the white man could go there, we could also. Lo, the Arabs come by the hundred by the white man's road, to get the ivory from Ujiji. "I am that white man." "You?" "Yes." "Why it was reported that you were dead--that you fought with the Wazavira." "Ah, my friend, these are the words of Njara, the son of Khamis. See" (pointing to Livingstone), "this is the white man, my father *, whom I saw at Ujiji. He is going with me to Unyanyembe to get his cloth, after which he will return to the great waters." * It is a courteous custom in Africa to address elderly people as "Baba," (Father.) "Wonderful!--thou sayest truly." "What has thou to tell me of the white man at Unyanyembe?" "Which white man?" "The white man I left in the house of Sayd, the son of Salim--my house--at Kwihara." "He is dead." "Dead!" "True." "You do not mean to say the white man is dead?" "True--he is dead." "How long ago?" "Many months now." "What did he die of?" "Homa (fever)." "Any more of my people dead?" "I know not." "Enough." I looked sympathetically at the Doctor, and he replied, "I told you so. When you described him to me as a drunken man, I knew he could not live. Men who have been habitual drunkards cannot live in this country, any more than men who have become slaves to other vices. I attribute the deaths that occurred in my expedition on the Zambezi to much the same cause." "Ah, Doctor, there are two of us gone. I shall be the third, if this fever lasts much longer." "Oh no, not at all. If you would have died from fever, you would have died at Ujiji when you had that severe attack of remittent. Don't think of it. Your fever now is only the result of exposure to wet. I never travel during the wet season. This time I have travelled because I was anxious, and I did not wish to detain you at Ujiji." "Well, there is nothing like a good friend at one's back in this country to encourage him, and keep his spirits up. Poor Shaw! I am sorry--very sorry for him. How many times have I not endeavoured to cheer him up! But there was no life in him. And among the last words I said to him, before parting, were, 'Remember, if you return to Unyanyembe, you die!'" We also obtained news from the chief of Sayd bin Habib's caravan that several packets of letters and newspapers, and boxes, had arrived for me from Zanzibar by my messengers and Arabs; that Selim, the son of Sheikh Hashid of Zanzibar, was amongst the latest arrivals in Unyanyembe. The Doctor also reminded me with the utmost good-nature that, according to his accounts, he had a stock of jellies and crackers, soups, fish, and potted ham, besides cheese, awaiting him in Unyanyembe, and that he would be delighted to share his good things; whereupon I was greatly cheered, and, during the repeated attacks of fever I suffered about this time, my imagination loved to dwell upon the luxuries at Unyanyembe. I pictured myself devouring the hams and crackers and jellies like a madman. I lived on my raving fancies. My poor vexed brain rioted on such homely things as wheaten bread and butter, hams, bacon, caviare, and I would have thought no price too high to pay for them. Though so far away and out of the pale of Europe and America, it was a pleasure to me, during the _athumia_ or despondency into which I was plunged by ever recurring fevers, to dwell upon them. I wondered that people who had access to such luxuries should ever get sick, and become tired of life. I thought that if a wheaten loaf with a nice pat of fresh butter were presented to me, I would be able, though dying, to spring up and dance a wild fandango. Though we lacked the good things of this life above named, we possessed salted giraffe and pickled zebra tongues; we had ugali made by Halimah herself; we had sweet potatoes, tea, coffee, dampers, or slap jacks; but I was tired of them. My enfeebled stomach, harrowed and irritated with medicinal compounds, with ipecac, colocynth, tartar-emetic, quinine, and such things, protested against the coarse food. "Oh, for a wheaten loaf!" my soul cried in agony. "Five hundred dollars for one loaf of bread!" The Doctor, somehow or another, despite the incessant rain, the dew, fog, and drizzle, the marching, and sore feet, ate like a hero, and I manfully, sternly, resolved to imitate the persevering attention he paid to the welfare of his gastric powers; but I miserably failed. Dr. Livingstone possesses all the attainments of a traveller. His knowledge is great about everything concerning Africa--the rocks, the trees, the fruits, and their virtues, are known to him. He is also full of philosophic reflections upon ethnological matter. With camp-craft, with its cunning devices, he is au fait. His bed is luxurious as a spring mattress. Each night he has it made under his own supervision. First, he has two straight poles cut, three or four inches in diameter; which are laid parallel one with another, at the distance of two feet; across these poles are laid short sticks, saplings, three feet long, and over them is laid a thick pile of grass; then comes a piece of waterproof canvas and blankets--and thus a bed has been improvised fit for a king. It was at Livingstone's instigation I purchased milch goats, by which, since leaving Ujiji, we have had a supply of fresh milk for our tea and coffee three times a day. Apropos of this, we are great drinkers of these welcome stimulants; we seldom halt drinking until we have each had six or seven cups. We have also been able to provide ourselves with music, which, though harsh, is better than none. I mean the musical screech of parrots from Manyuema. Half-way between Mwaru--Kamirambo's village--and the deserted Tongoni of Ukamba, I carved the Doctor's initials and my own on a large tree, with the date February 2nd. I have been twice guilty of this in Africa once when we were famishing in Southern Uvinza I inscribed the date, my initials, and the word "Starving," in large letters on the trunk of a sycamore. In passing through the forest of Ukamba, we saw the bleached skull of an unfortunate victim to the privations of travel. Referring to it, the Doctor remarked that he could never pass through an African forest, with its solemn stillness and serenity, without wishing to be buried quietly under the dead leaves, where he would be sure to rest undisturbed. In England there was no elbow-room, the graves were often desecrated; and ever since he had buried his wife in the woods of Shupanga he had sighed for just such a spot, where his weary bones would receive the eternal rest they coveted. The same evening, when the tent door was down, and the interior was made cheerful by the light of a paraffin candle, the Doctor related to me some incidents respecting the career and the death of his eldest son, Robert. Readers of Livingstone's first book, 'South Africa,' without which no boy should be, will probably recollect the dying Sebituane's regard for the little boy "Robert." Mrs. Livingstone and family were taken to the Cape of Good Hope, and thence sent to England, where Robert was put in the charge of a tutor; but wearied of inactivity, when he was about eighteen, he left Scotland and came to Natal, whence he endeavoured to reach his father. Unsuccessful in his attempt, he took ship and sailed for New York, and enlisted in the Northern Army, in a New Hampshire regiment of Volunteers, discarding his own name of Robert Moffatt Livingstone, and taking that of Rupert Vincent that his tutor, who seems to have been ignorant of his duties to the youth, might not find him. From one of the battles before Richmond, he was conveyed to a North Carolina hospital, where he died from his wounds. On the 7th of February we arrived at the Gombe, and camped near one of its largest lakes. This lake is probably several miles in length, and swarms with hippopotami and crocodiles. From this camp I despatched Ferajji, the cook, and Chowpereh to Unyanyembe, to bring the letters and medicines that were sent to me from Zanzibar, and meet us at Ugunda, while the next day we moved to our old quarters on the Gombe, where we were first introduced to the real hunter's paradise in Central Africa. The rain had scattered the greater number of the herds, but there was plenty of game in the vicinity. Soon after breakfast I took Khamisi and Kalulu with me for a hunt. After a long walk we arrived near a thin jungle, where I discovered the tracks of several animals--boar, antelope, elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, and an unusual number of imprints of the lion's paw. Suddenly I heard Khamisi say, "Master, master! here is a 'simba!' (lion);" and he came up to me trembling with excitement and fear--for the young fellow was an arrant coward--to point out the head of a beast, which could be seen just above the tall grass, looking steadily towards us. It immediately afterwards bounded from side to side, but the grass was so high that it was impossible to tell exactly what it was. Taking advantage of a tree in my front, I crept quietly onwards, intending to rest the heavy rifle against it, as I was so weak from the effects of several fevers that I felt myself utterly incapable of supporting my rifle for a steady aim. But my surprise was great when I cautiously laid it against the tree, and then directed its muzzle to the spot where I had seen him stand. Looking further away--to where the grass was thin and scant--I saw the animal bound along at a great rate, and that it was a lion: the noble monarch of the forest was in full flight! From that moment I ceased to regard him as the "mightiest among the brutes;" or his roar as anything more fearful in broad daylight than a sucking dove's. The next day was also a halt, and unable to contain my longing for the chase, where there used to be such a concourse of game of all kinds, soon after morning coffee, and after despatching a couple of men with presents to my friend Ma-manyara, of ammonia-bottle memory, I sauntered out once more for the park. Not five hundred yards from the camp, myself and men were suddenly halted by hearing in our immediate vicinity, probably within fifty yards or so, a chorus of roars, issuing from a triplet of lions. Instinctively my fingers raised the two hammers, as I expected a general onset on me; for though one lion might fly, it was hardly credible that three should. While looking keenly about I detected, within easy rifle-shot, a fine hartebeest, trembling and cowering behind a tree, as if it expected the fangs of the lion in its neck. Though it had its back turned to me, I thought a bullet might plough its way to a vital part, and without a moment's hesitation I aimed and fired. The animal gave a tremendous jump, as if it intended to take a flying leap through the tree; but recovering itself it dashed through the underbrush in a different direction from that in which I supposed the lions to be, and I never saw it again, though I knew I had struck it from the bloody trail it left; neither did I see nor hear anything more of the lions. I searched far and wide over the park-land for prey of some kind, but was compelled to return unsuccessful to camp. Disgusted with my failure, we started a little after noon for Manyara, at which place we were hospitably greeted by my friend, who had sent men to tell me that his white brother must not halt in the woods but must come to his village. We received a present of honey and food from the chief, which was most welcome to us in our condition. Here was an instance of that friendly disposition among Central African chiefs when they have not been spoiled by the Arabs, which Dr. Livingstone found among the Babisa and Ba-ulungu, and in Manyuema. I received the same friendly recognition from all the chiefs, from Imrera, in Ukawendi, to Unyanyembe, as I did from Mamanyara. On the 14th we arrived at Ugunda, and soon after we had established ourselves comfortably in a hut which the chief lent us for our use, in came Ferajji and Chowpereh, bringing with them Sarmean and Uledi Manwa Sera, who, it will be recollected, were the two soldiers sent to Zanzibar with letters and who should Sarmean have in charge but the deserter Hamdallah, who decamped at Manyara, as we were going to Ujiji. This fellow, it seems, had halted at Kigandu, and had informed the chief and the doctor of the village that he had been sent by the white man to take back the cloth left there for the cure of Mabruk Saleem; and the simple chief had commanded it to be given up to him upon his mere word, in consequence of which the sick man had died. Upon Sarmean's arrival in Unyanyembe from Zanzibar, about fifty days after the Expedition had departed for Ujiji the news he received was that the white man (Shaw) was dead; and that a man called Hamdallah, who had engaged himself as one of my guides, but who had shortly after returned, was at Unyanyembe. He had left him unmolested until the appearance of Ferajji and his companion, when they at once, in a body, made a descent on his hut and secured him. With the zeal which always distinguished him in my service, Sarmean had procured a forked pole, between the prongs of which the neck of the absconder was placed; and a cross stick, firmly lashed, effectually prevented him from relieving himself of the incumbrance attached to him so deftly. There were no less than seven packets of letters and newspapers from Zanzibar, which had been collecting during my absence from Unyanyembe. These had been intrusted at various times to the chiefs of caravans, who had faithfully delivered them at my tembe, according to their promise to the Consul. There was one packet for me, which contained two or three letters for Dr. Livingstone, to whom, of course, they were at once transferred, with my congratulations. In the same packet there was also a letter to me from the British Consul at Zanzibar requesting me to take charge of Livingstone's goods and do the best I could to forward them on to him, dated 25th September, 1871, five days after I left Unyanyembe on my apparently hopeless task. "Well, Doctor," said I to Livingstone, "the English Consul requests me to do all I can to push forward your goods to you. I am sorry that I did not get the authority sooner, for I should have attempted it; but in the absence of these instructions I have done the best I could by pushing you towards the goods. The mountain has not been able to advance towards Mohammed, but Mohammed has been compelled to advance towards the mountain." But Dr. Livingstone was too deeply engrossed in his own letters from home, which were just a year old. I received good and bad news from New York, but the good news was subsequent, and wiped out all feelings that might have been evoked had I received the bad only. But the newspapers, nearly a hundred of them, New York, Boston, and London journals, were full of most wonderful news. The Paris Commune was in arms against the National Assembly; the Tuileries, the Louvre, and the ancient city Lutetia Parisiorum had been set in flames by the blackguards of Saint-Antoine! French troops massacring and murdering men, women, and children; rampant diabolism, and incarnate revenge were at work in the most beautiful city in the world! Fair women converted into demons, and dragged by ruffianly soldiery through the streets to universal execration and pitiless death; children of tender age pinned to the earth and bayoneted; men innocent or not, shot, cut, stabbed, slashed, destroyed--a whole city given up to the summa injuria of an infuriate, reckless, and brutal army! Oh France! Oh Frenchmen! Such things are unknown even in the heart of barbarous Central Africa. We spurned the newspapers with our feet; and for relief to sickened hearts gazed on the comic side of our world, as illustrated in the innocent pages of 'Punch.' Poor 'Punch!' good-hearted, kindly-natured 'Punch!' a traveller's benison on thee! Thy jokes were as physic; thy innocent satire was provocative of hysteric mirth. Our doors were crowded with curious natives, who looked with indescribable wonder at the enormous sheets. I heard them repeat the words, "Khabari Kisungu"--white man's news--often, and heard them discussing the nature of such a quantity of news, and expressing their belief that the "Wasungu" were "mbyah sana," and very "mkali;" by which they meant to say that the white men were very wicked, and very smart and clever though the term wicked is often employed to express high admiration. On the fourth day from Ugunda, or the 18th of February, and the fifty-third day from Ujiji, we made our appearance with flags flying and guns firing in the valley of Kwihara, and when the Doctor and myself passed through the portals of my old quarters I formally welcomed him to Unyanyembe and to my house. Since the day I had left the Arabs, sick and, weary almost with my life, but, nevertheless, imbued with the high hope that my mission would succeed, 131 days had elapsed--with what vicissitudes of fortune the reader well knows--during which time I had journeyed over 1,200 miles. The myth after which I travelled through the wilderness proved to be a fact; and never was the fact more apparent than when the Living Man walked with me arm in arm to my old room, and I said to him, "Doctor, we are at last HOME!" CHAPTER XV. -- HOMEWARD BOUND.--LIVINGSTONE'S LAST WORDS--THE FINAL FAREWELL Unyanyembe was now to me a terrestrial Paradise. Livingstone was no less happy; he was in comfortable quarters, which were a palace compared to his hut in Ujiji. Our store-rooms were full of the good things of this life, besides cloth, beads, wire, and the thousand and one impedimenta and paraphernalia of travel with which I had loaded over one hundred and fifty men at Bagamoyo. I had seventy-four loads of miscellaneous things, the most valuable of which were now to be turned over to Livingstone, for his march back to the sources of the Nile. It was a great day with, us when, with hammer and chisel, I broke open the Doctor's boxes, that we might feast our famished stomachs on the luxuries which were to redeem us from the effect of the cacotrophic dourra and maize food we had been subjected to in the wilderness. I conscientiously believed that a diet on potted ham, crackers, and jellies would make me as invincible as Talus, and that I only required a stout flail to be able to drive the mighty Wagogo into the regions of annihilation, should they dare even to wink in a manner I disapproved. The first box opened contained three tins of biscuits, six tins of potted hams--tiny things, not much larger than thimbles, which, when opened, proved to be nothing more than a table-spoonful of minced meat plentifully seasoned with pepper: the Doctor's stores fell five hundred degrees below zero in my estimation. Next were brought out five pots of jam, one of which was opened--this was also a delusion. The stone jars weighed a pound, and in each was found a little over a tea-spoonful of jam. Verily, we began to think our hopes and expectations had been raised to too high a pitch. Three bottles of curry were next produced--but who cares for curry? Another box was opened, and out tumbled a fat dumpy Dutch cheese, hard as a brick, but sound and good; though it is bad for the liver in Unyamwezi. Then another cheese was seen, but this was all eaten up--it was hollow and a fraud. The third box contained nothing but two sugar loaves; the fourth, candles; the fifth, bottles of salt, Harvey, Worcester, and Reading sauces, essence of anchovies, pepper, and mustard. Bless me! what food were these for the revivifying of a moribund such as I was! The sixth box contained four shirts, two pairs of stout shoes, some stockings and shoe-strings, which delighted the Doctor so much when he tried them on that he exclaimed, "Richard is himself again!" "That man," said I, "whoever he is, is a friend, indeed." "Yes, that is my friend Waller." The five other boxes contained potted meat and soups; but the twelfth, containing one dozen bottles of medicinal brandy, was gone; and a strict cross-examination of Asmani, the head man of Livingstone's caravan, elicited the fact, that not only was one case of brandy missing, but also two bales of cloth and four bags of the most valuable beads in Africa--sami-sami--which are as gold with the natives. I was grievously disappointed after the stores had been examined; everything proved to be deceptions in my jaundiced eyes. Out of the tins of biscuits when opened, there was only one sound box; the whole of which would not make one full meal. The soups--who cared for meat soups in Africa? Are there no bullocks, and sheep, and goats in the land, from which far better soup can be made than any that was ever potted? Peas, or any other kind of vegetable soup, would have been a luxury; but chicken and game soups!--what nonsense! I then overhauled my own stores. I found some fine old brandy and one bottle of champagne still left; though it was evident, in looking at the cloth bales, that dishonesty had been at work; and some person happened to suggest Asmani--the head man sent by Dr. Kirk in charge of Livingstone's goods--as the guilty party. Upon his treasures being examined, I found eight or ten coloured cloths, with the mark of my own agent at Zanzibar on them. As he was unable to give a clear account of how they came in his box, they were at once confiscated, and distributed among the most deserving of the Doctor's people. Some of the watchmen also accused him of having entered into my store-room, and of having abstracted two or three gorah of domestics from my bales, and of having, some days afterwards, snatched the keys from the hands of one of my men, and broken them, lest other people might enter, and find evidences of his guilt. As Asmani was proved to be another of the "moral idiots," Livingstone discharged him on the spot. Had we not arrived so soon at Unyanyembe, it is probable that the entire stock sent from Zanzibar had in time disappeared. Unyanyembe being rich in fruits, grain, and cattle, we determined to have our Christmas dinner over again in style, and, being fortunately in pretty good health, I was enabled to superintend its preparation. Never was such prodigality seen in a tembe of Unyamwezi as was seen in ours, nor were ever such delicacies provided. There were but few Arabs in Unyanyembe when we arrived, as they were investing the stronghold of Mirambo. About a week after our return, "the little mannikin," Sheikh Sayd bin Salim--El Wali--who was the commander-in-chief of their forces, came to Kwihara from the front. But the little Sheikh was in no great hurry to greet the man he had wronged so much. As soon as we heard of his arrival we took the opportunity to send men immediately after the goods which were forwarded to the Wali's care soon after Livingstone's departure for Mikindany Bay. The first time we sent men for them the governor declared himself too sick to attend to such matters, but the second day they were surrendered, with a request that the Doctor would not be very angry at their condition, as the white ants had destroyed everything. The stores this man had detained at Unyanyembe were in a most sorry state. The expenses were prepaid for their carriage to Ujiji, but the goods had been purposely detained at this place by Sayd bin Salim since 1867 that he might satisfy his appetite for liquor, and probably fall heir to two valuable guns that were known to be with them. The white ants had not only eaten up bodily the box in which the guns were packed, but they had also eaten the gunstocks. The barrels were corroded, and the locks were quite destroyed. The brandy bottles, most singular to relate, had also fallen a prey to the voracious and irresistible destroyers the white ants--and, by some unaccountable means, they had imbibed the potent Hennessy, and replaced the corks with corn-cobs. The medicines had also vanished, and the zinc pots in which they had been snugly packed up were destroyed by corrosion. Two bottles of brandy and one small zinc case of medicines only were saved out of the otherwise utter wreck. I also begged the Doctor to send to Sheikh Sayd, and ask him if he had received the two letters despatched by him upon his first arrival at Ujiji for Dr. Kirk and Lord Clarendon; and if he had forwarded them to the coast, as he was desired to do. The reply to the messengers was in the affirmative; and, subsequently, I obtained the same answer in the presence of the Doctor, On the 222nd of February, the pouring rain, which had dogged us the entire distance from Ujiji, ceased, and we had now beautiful weather; and while I prepared for the homeward march, the Doctor was busy writing his letters, and entering his notes into his journal, which I was to take to his family. When not thus employed, we paid visits to the Arabs at Tabora, by whom we were both received with that bounteous hospitality for which they are celebrated. Among the goods turned over by me to Dr. Livingstone, while assorting such cloths as I wished to retain for my homeward trip, were-- Doti. Yards. First-class American sheeting... 285 = 1140 " Kaniki (blue stuff)... 16 = 64 Medium " (blue stuff)... 60 = 240 " Dabwani cloth.... 41 = 64 Barsati cloths.... 28 = 112 Printed handkerchiefs.. 70 = 280 Medium Rehani cloth..... 127 = 508 " Ismahili " .... 20 = 80 " Sohari "..... 20 = 80 4 pieces fine Kungura (red check) 22 = 88 4 gorah Rehani....... 8 = 32 Total number of cloths. 697 = 2788 Besides: Cloth, 2788 yards. Assorted beads, 16 sacks, weight = 992 lbs. Brass wire, Nos. 5 and 6; 10 fraslilah = 350 lbs. 1 canvas tent, waterproof. 1 air-bed. 1 boat (canvas} 1 bag of tools, carpenter's. 1 rip saw. 2 barrels of tar. 12 sheets of ship's copper = 60 lbs. Clothes. 1 Jocelyn breech-loader (metallic cartridge). 1 Starr's " " " 1 Henry (16-shooter) " " 1 revolver. 200 rounds revolver ammunition. 2000 " Jocelyn and Starrs ammunition. 1500 " Henry rifle ammunition. Cooking utensils, medicine chest, books, sextant, canvas bags, &c., &c., &c. The above made a total of about forty loads. Many things in the list would have brought fancy prices in Unyanyembe, especially the carbines and ammunition, the saw, carpenter's tools the beads, and wire. Out of the thirty-three loads which were stored for him in my tembe--the stock sent to Livingstone, Nov. 1,1870--but few of them would be available for his return trip to Rua and Manyuema. The 696 doti of cloth which were left to him formed the only marketable articles of value he possessed; and in Manyuema, where the natives manufactured their own cloth, such an article would be considered a drug; while my beads and wire, with economy, would suffice to keep him and his men over two years in those regions. His own cloth, and what I gave him, made in the aggregate 1,393 doti, which, at 2 doti per day for food, were sufficient to keep him and sixty men 696 days. He had thus four years' supplies. The only articles he lacked to make a new and completely fitted-up expedition were the following, a list of which he and I drew up;-- A few tins of American wheat-flour. " " soda crackers. " " preserved fruits A few tins of salmon, 10 lbs. Hyson tea. Some sewing thread and needles. 1 dozen official envelopes. 'Nautical Almanac' for 1872 and 1873. 1 blank journal. 1 chronometer, stopped. 1 chain for refractory people. With the articles just named he would have a total of seventy loads, but without carriers they were an incumbrance to him; for, with only the nine men which he now had, he could go nowhere with such a splendid assortment of goods. I was therefore commissioned to enlist,--as soon as I reached Zanzibar,--fifty freemen, arm them with a gun and hatchet each man, besides accoutrements, and to purchase two thousand bullets, one thousand flints, and ten kegs of gunpowder. The men were to act as carriers, to follow wherever Livingstone might desire to go. For, without men, he was simply tantalized with the aspirations roused in him by the knowledge that he had abundance of means, which were irrealizable without carriers. All the wealth of London and New York piled before him were totally unavailable to him without the means of locomotion. No Mnyamwezi engages himself as carrier during war-time. You who have read the diary of my 'Life in Unyanyembe' know what stubborn Conservatives the Wanyamwezi are. A duty lay yet before me which I owed to my illustrious companion, and that was to hurry to the coast as if on a matter of life and death--act for him in the matter of enlisting men as if he were there himself--to work for him with the same zeal as I would for myself--not to halt or rest until his desires should be gratified, And this I vowed to do; but it was a death-blow to my project of going down the Nile, and getting news of Sir S. Baker. The Doctor's task of writing his letters was ended. He delivered into my hand twenty letters for Great Britain, six for Bombay, two for New York, and one for Zanzibar. The two letters for New York were for James Gordon Bennett, junior, as he alone, not his father, was responsible for the Expedition sent under my command. I beg the reader's pardon for republishing one of these letters here, as its spirit and style indicate the man, the mere knowledge of whose life or death was worth a costly Expedition. Ujiji, on Tanganika, East Africa, November, 1871. James Gordon Bennett, Jr., Esq. My Dear Sir,--It is in general somewhat difficult to write to one we have never seen--it feels so much like addressing an abstract idea--but the presence of your representative, Mr. H. M. Stanley, in this distant region takes away the strangeness I should otherwise have felt, and in writing to thank you for the extreme kindness that prompted you to send him, I feel quite at home. If I explain the forlorn condition in which he found me you will easily perceive that I have good reason to use very strong expressions of gratitude. I came to Ujiji off a tramp of between four hundred and five hundred miles, beneath a blazing vertical sun, having been baffled, worried, defeated and forced to return, when almost in sight of the end of the geographical part of my mission, by a number of half-caste Moslem slaves sent to me from Zanzibar, instead of men. The sore heart made still sorer by the woeful sights I had seen of man's inhumanity to man racked and told on the bodily frame, and depressed it beyond measure. I thought that I was dying on my feet. It is not too much to say that almost every step of the weary sultry way was in pain, and I reached Ujiji a mere ruckle of bones. There I found that some five hundred pounds' sterling worth of goods which I had ordered from Zanzibar had unaccountably been entrusted to a drunken half-caste Moslem tailor, who, after squandering them for sixteen months on the way to Ujiji; finished up by selling off all that remained for slaves and ivory for himself. He had "divined" on the Koran and found that I was dead. He had also written to the Governor of Unyanyembe that he had sent slaves after me to Manyuema, who returned and reported my decease, and begged permission to sell off the few goods that his drunken appetite had spared. He, however, knew perfectly well, from men who had seen me, that I was alive, and waiting for the goods and men; but as for morality, he is evidently an idiot, and there being no law here except that of the dagger or musket, I had to sit down in great weakness, destitute of everything save a few barter cloths and beads, which I had taken the precaution to leave here in case of extreme need. The near prospect of beggary among Ujijians made me miserable. I could not despair, because I laughed so much at a friend who, on reaching the mouth of the Zambezi, said that he was tempted to despair on breaking the photograph of his wife. We could have no success after that. Afterward the idea of despair had to me such a strong smack of the ludicrous that it was out of the question. Well, when I had got to about the lowest verge, vague rumors of an English visitor reached me. I thought of myself as the man who went down from Jerusalem to Jericho; but neither priest, Levite, nor Samaritan could possibly pass my way. Yet the good Samaritan was close at hand, and one of my people rushed up at the top of his speed, and, in great excitement, gasped out, "An Englishman coming! I see him!" and off he darted to meet him. An American flag, the first ever seen in these parts, at the head of a caravan, told me the nationality of the stranger. I am as cold and non-demonstrative as we islanders are usually reputed to be; but your kindness made my frame thrill. It was, indeed, overwhelming, and I said in my soul, "Let the richest blessings descend from the Highest on you and yours!" The news Mr. Stanley had to tell was thrilling. The mighty political changes on the Continent; the success of the Atlantic cables; the election of General Grant, and many other topics' riveted my attention for days together, and had an immediate and beneficial effect on my health. I had been without news from home for years save what I could glean from a few 'Saturday Reviews' and 'Punch' of 1868. The appetite revived, and in a week I began to feel strong again. Mr. Stanley brought a most kind and encouraging despatch from Lord Clarendon (whose loss I sincerely deplore), the first I have received from the Foreign Office since 1866, and information that the British Government had kindly sent a thousand pounds sterling to my aid. Up to his arrival I was not aware of any pecuniary aid. I came unsalaried, but this want is now happily repaired, and I am anxious that you and all my friends should know that, though uncheered by letter, I have stuck to the task which my friend Sir Roderick Murchison set me with "John Bullish" tenacity, believing that all would come right at last. The watershed of South Central Africa is over seven hundred wiles in length. The fountains thereon are almost innumerable--that is, it would take a man's lifetime to count them. From the watershed they converge into four large rivers, and these again into two mighty streams in the great Nile valley, which begins in ten degrees to twelve degrees south latitude. It was long ere light dawned on the ancient problem and gave me a clear idea of the drainage. I had to feel my way, and every step of the way, and was, generally, groping in the dark--for who cared where the rivers ran? "We drank our fill and let the rest run by." The Portuguese who visited Cazembe asked for slaves and ivory, and heard of nothing else. I asked about the waters, questioned and cross-questioned, until I was almost afraid of being set down as afflicted with hydrocephalus. My last work, in which I have been greatly hindered from want of suitable attendants, was following the central line of drainage down through the country of the cannibals, called Manyuema, or, shortly Manyema. This line of drainage has four large lakes in it. The fourth I was near when obliged to turn. It is from one to three miles broad, and never can be reached at any point, or at any time of the year. Two western drains, the Lufira, or Bartle Frere's River, flow into it at Lake Kamolondo. Then the great River Lomame flows through Lake Lincoln into it too, and seems to form the western arm of the Nile, on which Petherick traded. Now, I knew about six hundred miles of the watershed, and unfortunately the seventh hundred is the most interesting of the whole; for in it, if I am not mistaken, four fountains arise from an earthen mound, and the last of the four becomes, at no great distance off, a large river. Two of these run north to Egypt, Lufira and Lomame, and two run south into inner Ethiopia, as the Leambaye, or Upper Zambezi, and the Kaful. Are not these the sources of the Nile mentioned by the Secretary of Minerva, in the city of Sais, to Herodotus? I have heard of them so often, and at great distances off, that I cannot doubt their existence, and in spite of the sore longing for home that seizes me every time I think of my family, I wish to finish up by their rediscovery. Five hundred pounds sterling worth of goods have again unaccountably been entrusted to slaves, and have been over a year on the way, instead of four months. I must go where they lie at your expense, ere I can put the natural completion to my work. And if my disclosures regarding the terrible Ujijian slavery should lead to the suppression of the East Coast slave trade, I shall regard that as a greater matter by far than the discovery of all the Nile sources together. Now that you have done with domestic slavery for ever, lend us your powerful aid toward this great object. This fine country is blighted, as with a curse from above, in order that the slavery privileges of the petty Sultan of Zanzibar may not be infringed, and the rights of the Crown of Portugal, which are mythical, should be kept in abeyance till some future time when Africa will become another India to Portuguese slave-traders. I conclude by again thanking you most cordially for your great generosity, and am, Gratefully yours, David Livingstone. To the above letter I have nothing to add--it speaks for itself; but I then thought it was the best evidence of my success. For my own part, I cared not one jot or tittle about his discoveries, except so far as it concerned the newspaper which commissioned me for the "search." It is true I felt curious as to the result of his travels; but, since he confessed that he had not completed what he had begun, I felt considerable delicacy to ask for more than he could afford to give. His discoveries were the fruits of of his own labours--to him they belonged--by their publication he hoped to obtain his reward, which he desired to settle on his children. Yet Livingstone had a higher and nobler ambition than the mere pecuniary sum he would receive: he followed the dictates of duty. Never was such a willing slave to that abstract virtue. His inclinations impelled him home, the fascinations of which it required the sternest resolves to resist. With every foot of new ground he travelled over he forged a chain of sympathy which should hereafter bind the Christian nations in bonds of love and charity to the Heathen of the African tropics. If he were able to complete this chain of love--by actual discovery and description of them to embody such peoples and nations as still live in darkness, so as to attract the good and charitable of his own land to bestir themselves for their redemption and salvation--this, Livingstone would consider an ample reward. "A delirious and fatuous enterprise, a Quixotic scheme!" some will say. Not it, my friends; for as sure as the sun shines on both Christian and Infidel, civilised and Pagan, the day of enlightenment will come; and, though Livingstone, the Apostle of Africa, may not behold it himself, nor we younger men, not yet our children, the Hereafter will see it, and posterity will recognise the daring pioneer of its civilization. The following items are extracted in their entirety from my Diary: March 12th.--The Arabs have sent me as many as forty-five letters to carry to the coast. I am turned courier in my latter days; but the reason is that no regularly organized caravans are permitted to leave Unyanyembe now, because of the war with Mirambo. What if I had stayed all this time at Unyanyembe waiting for the war to end! It is my opinion that, the Arabs will not be able to conquer Mirambo under nine months yet. To-night the natives have gathered themselves together to give me a farewell dance in front of my house. I find them to be the pagazis of Singiri, chief of Mtesa's caravan. My men joined in, and, captivated by the music despite myself, I also struck in, and performed the "light fantastic," to the intense admiration of my braves, who were delighted to see their master unbend a little from his usual stiffness. It is a wild dance altogether. The music is lively, and evoked from the sonorous sound of four drums, which are arranged before the bodies of four men, who stand in the centre of the weird circle. Bombay, as ever comical, never so much at home as when in the dance of the Mrima, has my water-bucket on his head; Chowpereh--the sturdy, the nimble, sure-footed Chowpereh--has an axe in his hand, and wears a goatskin on his head; Baraka has my bearskin, and handles a spear; Mabruki, the "Bull-headed," has entered into the spirit of the thing, and steps up and down like a solemn elephant; Ulimengo has a gun, and is a fierce Drawcansir, and you would imagine he was about to do battle to a hundred thousand, so ferocious is he in appearance; Khamisi and Kamna are before the drummers, back to back, kicking up ambitiously at the stars; Asmani,--the embodiment of giant strength,--a towering Titan,--has also a gun, with which he is dealing blows in the air, as if he were Thor, slaying myriads with his hammer. The scruples and passions of us all are in abeyance; we are contending demons under the heavenly light of the stars, enacting only the part of a weird drama, quickened into action and movement by the appalling energy and thunder of the drums. The warlike music is ended, and another is started. The choragus has fallen on his knees, and dips his head two or three times in an excavation in the ground, and a choir, also on their knees, repeat in dolorous tones the last words of a slow and solemn refrain. The words are literally translated:-- Choragus. Oh-oh-oh! the white man is going home! Choir. Oh-oh-oh! going home! Going home, oh-oh-oh! Choragus. To the happy island on the sea, Where the beads are plenty, oh-oh-oh! Choir. Oh-oh-oh! where the beads are plenty, Oh-oh-oh! Choragus. While Singiri has kept us, oh, very long From our homes very long, oh-oh-oh.! Choir From our homes, oh-oh-oh! Oh-oh-oh! Choragus. And we have had no food for very long-- We are half-starved, oh, for so long! Bana Singiri! Choir. For so very long, oh-oh-oh! Bana Singiri-Singiri! Singiri! oh, Singiri Choragus. Mirambo has gone to war To fight against the Arabs; The Arabs and Wangwana Have gone to fight Mirambo! Choir Oh-oh-oh! to fight Mirambo! Oh, Mirambo! Mirambo Oh, to fight Mirambo! Choragus. But the white man will make us glad, He is going home! For he is going home, And he will make us glad! Sh-sh-sh! Choir. The white man will make us glad! Sh-sh-sh Sh-----sh-h-h-----sh-h-h-h-h-h! Um-m--mu---um-m-m----sh! This is the singular farewell which I received from the Wanyamwezi of Singiri, and for its remarkable epic beauty(?), rhythmic excellence(?), and impassioned force(?), I have immortalised it in the pages of this book, as one of the most wonderful productions of the chorus-loving children of Unyamwezi. March 13th.--The last day of my stay with Livingstone has come and gone, and the last night we shall be together is present, and I cannot evade the morrow! I feel as though I would rebel against the fate which drives me away from him. The minutes beat fast, and grow into hours. Our door is closed, and we are both of us busy with our own thoughts. What his thoughts are I know not. Mine are sad. My days seem to have been spent in an Elysian field; otherwise, why should I so keenly regret the near approach of the parting hour? Have I not been battered by successive fevers, prostrate with agony day after day lately? Have I not raved and stormed in madness? Have I not clenched my fists in fury, and fought with the wild strength of despair when in delirium? Yet, I regret to surrender the pleasure I have felt in this man's society, though so dearly purchased. I cannot resist the sure advance of time, which flies this night as if it mocked me, and gloated on the misery it created! Be it so! How many times have I not suffered the pang of parting with friends! I wished to linger longer, but the inevitable would come--Fate sundered us. This is the same regretful feeling, only it is more poignant, and the farewell may be forever! FOREVER? And "FOR EVER," echo the reverberations of a woful whisper. I have noted down all he has said to-night; but the reader shall not share it with me. It is mine! I am as jealous as he is himself of his Journal; and I have written in German text, and in round hand, on either side of it, on the waterproof canvas cover, "POSITTVELY NOT TO BE OPENED;" to which he has affixed his signature. I have stenographed every word he has said to me respecting the equable distribution of certain curiosities among his friends and children, and his last wish about "his" dear old friend, Sir Roderick Murchison, because he has been getting anxious about him ever since we received the newspapers at Ugunda, when we read that the old man was suffering from a paralytic stroke. I must be sure to send him the news, as soon as I get to Aden; and I have promised that he will receive the message from me quicker than anything was ever received in Central Africa. "To-morrow night, Doctor, you will be alone!" "Yes; the house will look as though a death had taken place. You had better stop until the rains, which are now near, are over." "I would to God I could, my dear Doctor; but every day I stop here, now that there is no necessity for me to stay longer, keeps you from your work and home." "I know; but consider your health--you are not fit to travel. What is it? Only a few weeks longer. You will travel to the coast just as quickly when the rains are over as you will by going now. The plains will be inundated between here and the coast." "You think so; but I will reach the coast in forty days; if not in forty, I will in fifty--certain. The thought that I am doing you an important service will spur me on." March 14th.--At dawn we were up, the bales and baggage were taken outside of the building, and the men prepared themselves for the first march towards home. We had a sad breakfast together. I could not eat, my heart was too full; neither did my companion seem to have an appetite. We found something to do which kept us longer together. At 8 o'clock I was not gone, and I had thought to have been off at 5 A.M. "Doctor," said I, "I will leave two men with you, who will stop to-day and to-morrow with you, for it may be that you have forgotten something in the hurry of my departure. I will halt a day at Tura, on the frontier of Unyamwezi, for your last word, and your last wish; and now we must part--there is no help for it. Good-bye." "Oh, I am coming with you a little way. I must see you off on the road." "Thank you. Now, my men, Home! Kirangozi, lift the flag, and MARCH!" The house looked desolate--it faded from our view. Old times, and the memories of my aspirations and kindling hopes, came strong on me. The old hills round about, that I once thought tame and uninteresting, had become invested with histories and reminiscences for me. On that burzani I have sat hour after hour, dreaming, and hoping, and sighing. On that col I stood, watching the battle and the destruction of Tabora. Under that roof I have sickened and been delirious, and cried out like a child at the fate that threatened my mission. Under that banian tree lay my dead comrade--poor Shaw; I would have given a fortune to have had him by my side at this time. From that house I started on my journey to Ujiji; to it I returned as to a friend, with a newer and dearer companion; and now I leave all. Already it all appears like a strange dream. We walked side by side; the men lifted their voices into a song. I took long looks at Livingstone, to impress his features thoroughly on my memory. "The thing is, Doctor, so far as I can understand it, you do not intend to return home until you have satisfied yourself about the 'Sources of the Nile.' When you have satisfied yourself, you will come home and satisfy others. Is it not so?" "That is it, exactly. When your men come back, I shall immediately start for Ufipa; then, crossing the Rungwa River, I shall strike south, and round the extremity of the Tanganika. Then, a south-east course will take me to Chicumbi's, on the Luapula. On crossing the Luapula, I shall go direct west to the copper-mines of Katanga. Eight days south of Katanga, the natives declare the fountains to be. When I have found them, I shall return by Katanga to the underground houses of Rua. From the caverns, ten days north-east will take me to Lake Kamolondo. I shall be able to travel from the lake, in your boat, up the River Lufira, to Lake Lincoln. Then, coming down again, I can proceed north, by the Lualaba, to the fourth lake--which, I think, will explain the whole problem; and I will probably find that it is either Chowambe (Baker's lake), or Piaggia's lake. "And how long do you think this little journey will take you?" "A year and a half, at the furthest, from the day I leave Unyanyembe." "Suppose you say two years; contingencies might arise, you know. It will be well for me to hire these new men for two years; the day of their engagement to begin from their arrival at Unyanyembe." "Yes, that will do excellently well." "Now, my dear Doctor, the best friends must part. You have come far enough; let me beg of you to turn back." "Well, I will say this to you: you have done what few men could do--far better than some great travellers I know. And I am grateful to you for what you have done for me. God guide you safe home, and bless you, my friend." "And may God bring you safe back to us all, my dear friend. Farewell!" "Farewell!" We wrung each other's hands, and I had to tear myself away before I unmanned myself; but Susi, and Chumah, and Hamoydah--the Doctor's faithful fellows--they must all shake and kiss my hands before I could quite turn away. I betrayed myself! "Good-bye, Doctor--dear friend!" "Good-bye!" The FAREWELL between Livingstone and myself had been spoken. We were parted, he to whatever fate Destiny had yet in store for him, to battling against difficulties, to many, many days of marching through wildernesses, with little or nothing much to sustain him save his own high spirit, and enduring faith in God--"who would bring all things right at last;" and I to that which Destiny may have in store for me. But though I may live half a century longer, I shall never forget that parting scene in Central Africa. I shall never cease to think of the sad tones of that sorrowful word Farewell, how they permeated through every core of my heart, how they clouded my eyes, and made me wish unutterable things which could never be. An audacious desire to steal one embrace from the dear old man came over me, and almost unmanned me. I felt tempted to stop with him and assist him, on his long return march to the fountain region, but these things were not to be, any more than many other impulsive wishes, and despite the intensified emotions which filled both of us, save by silent tears, and a tremulous parting word, we did not betray our stoicism of manhood and race. I assumed a gruff voice, and ordered the Expedition to march, and I resolutely turned my face toward the eastern sky. But ever and anon my eyes would seek that deserted figure of an old man in grey clothes, who with bended head and slow steps was returning to his solitude, the very picture of melancholy, and each time I saw him--as the plain was wide and clear of obstructions--I felt my eyes stream, and my heart swell with a vague, indefinable feeling of foreboding and sorrow. I thought of his lonely figure sitting day after day on the burzani of his house, by which all caravans from the coast would have to pass, and of the many, many times he would ask the new-comers whether they had passed any men coming along the road for him, and I thought as each day passed, and his stores and letters had not arrived how he would grieve at the lengthening delay. I then felt strong again, as I felt that so long as I should be doing service for Livingstone, I was not quite parted from him, and by doing the work effectively and speedily the bond of friendship between us would be strengthened. Such thoughts spurred me to the resolution to march so quickly for the coast, that Arabs in after time should marvel at the speed with which the white man's caravan travelled from Unyanyembe to Zanzibar. I took one more look at him; he was standing near the gate of Kwikuru with his servants near him. I waved a handkerchief to him, as a final token of farewell, and he responded to it by lifting his cap. It was the last opportunity, for we soon surmounted the crest of a land-wave, and began the descent into the depression on the other side, and I NEVER saw him more. God grant, dear reader, that if ever you take to travelling in Central Africa, you find as good and true a man, for your companion, as I found in noble David Livingstone. For four months and four days he and I occupied the same house, or, the same tent, and I never had one feeling of resentment against him, nor did he show any against me, and the longer I lived with him the more did my admiration and reverence for him increase. What were Livingstone's thoughts during the time which elapsed between my departure for the coast, and the arrival of his supplies, may be gathered from a letter which he wrote on the 2nd of July to Mr. John F. Webb, American Consul at Zanzibar. I have been waiting up here like Simeon Stylites on his pillar, and counting every day, and conjecturing each step taken by our friend towards the coast, wishing and praying that no sickness might lay him up, no accident befall him, and no unlooked-for combinations of circumstances render his kind intentions vain or fruitless. Mr. Stanley had got over the tendency to the continued form of fever which is the most dangerous, and was troubled only with the intermittent form, which is comparatively safe, or I would not have allowed him, but would have accompanied him to Zanzibar. I did not tell himself so; nor did I say what I thought, that he really did a very plucky thing in going through the Mirambo war in spite of the remonstrances of all the Arabs, and from Ujiji guiding me back to Unyanyembe. The war, as it is called, is still going on. The danger lay not so much in the actual fighting as in the universal lawlessness the war engendered. I am not going to inflict on the reader a repetition of our march back, except to record certain incidents which occurred to us as we journeyed to the coast. March 17th.--We came to the Kwalah River. The first rain of the Masika season fell on this day; I shall be mildewed before I reach the coast. Last year's Masika began at Bagamoyo, March 23rd, and ended 30th April. The next day I halted the Expedition at Western Tura, on the Unyamwezi frontier, and on the 20th arrived at Eastern Tura; when, soon after, we heard a loud report of a gun, and Susi and Hamoydah, the Doctor's servants, with Uredi, and another of my men, appeared with a letter for "Sir Thomas MacLear, Observatory, Cape of Good Hope," and one for myself, which read as follows: Kwihara, March 15, 1872. Dear Stanley, If you can telegraph on your arrival in London, be particular, please, to say how Sir Roderick is. You put the matter exactly yesterday, when you said that I was "not yet satisfied about the Sources; but as soon as I shall be satisfied, I shall return and give satisfactory reasons fit for other people." This is just as it stands. I wish I could give you a better word than the Scotch one to "put a stout heart to a stey brae"--(a steep ascent)--for you will do that; and I am thankful that, before going away, the fever had changed into the intermittent, or safe form. I would not have let you go, but with great concern, had you still been troubled with the continued type. I feel comfortable in commending you to the guardianship of the good Lord and Father of all. I am gratefully yours, David Livingstone. I have worked as hard as I could copying observations made in one line of march from Kabuire, back again to Cazembe, and on to Lake Baugweolo, and am quite tired out. My large figures fill six sheets of foolscap, and many a day will elapse ere I take to copying again. I did my duty when ill at Ujiji in 1869, and am not to blame, though they grope a little in the dark at home. Some Arab letters have come, and I forward them to you. D. L. March 16, 1872. P.S.--I have written a note this morning to Mr. Murray, 50, Albemarle Street, the publisher, to help you, if necessary, in sending the Journal by book post, or otherwise, to Agnes. If you call on him you will find him a frank gentleman. A pleasant journey to you. David Livingstone. To Henry M. Stanley, Esq., Wherever he may be found. Several Wangwana arrived at Tura to join our returning Expedition, as they were afraid to pass through Ugogo by themselves; others were reported coming; but as all were sufficiently warned at Unyanyembe that the departure of the caravan would take place positively on the 14th, I was not disposed to wait longer. As we were leaving Tura, on the 21st, Susi and Hamoydah were sent back to the Doctor, with last words from me, while we continued our march to Nghwhalah River. Two days afterwards we arrived before the village of Ngaraisa, into which the head of the caravan attempted to enter but the angry Wakimbu forcibly ejected them. On the 24th, we encamped in the jungle, in what is called the "tongoni," or clearing. This region was at one period in a most flourishing state; the soil is exceedingly fertile; the timber is large, and would be valuable near the coast; and, what is highly appreciated in Africa, there is an abundance of water. We camped near a smooth, broad hump of syenite, at one end of which rose, upright and grand, a massive square rock, which towered above several small trees in the vicinity; at the other end stood up another singular rock, which was loosened at the base. The members of the Expedition made use of the great sheet of rock to grind their grain; a common proceeding in these lands where villages are not near, or when the people are hostile. On the 27th of March we entered Kiwyeh. At dawn, when leaving Mdaburu River, the solemn warning had been given that we were about entering Ugogo; and as we left Kaniyaga village, with trumpet-like blasts of the guide's horn, we filed into the depths of an expanse of rustling Indian corn. The ears were ripe enough for parching and roasting, and thus was one anxiety dispelled by its appearance; for generally, in early March, caravans suffer from famine, which overtakes both natives and strangers. We soon entered the gum-tree districts, and we knew we were in Ugogo. The forests of this country are chiefly composed of the gum and thorn species--mimosa and tamarisk, with often a variety of wild fruit trees. The grapes were plentiful, though they were not quite ripe; and there was also a round, reddish fruit with the sweetness of the Sultana grape, with leaves like a gooseberry-bush. There was another about the size of an apricot, which was excessively bitter. Emerging from the entangled thorn jungle, the extensive settlements of Kiwyeh came into view; and to the east of the chief's village we found a camping place under the shade of a group of colossal baobab. We had barely encamped when we heard the booming, bellowing war horns sounding everywhere, and we espied messengers darting swiftly in every direction giving the alarm of war. When first informed that the horns were calling the people to arm themselves, and prepare for war, I half suspected that an attack was about to be made on the Expedition; but the words "Urugu, warugu" (thief! thieves!)--bandied about, declared the cause. Mukondoku, the chief of the populous district two days to the north-east, where we experienced some excitement when westward-bound, was marching to attack the young Mtemi, Kiwyeh, and Kiwyeh's soldiers were called to the fight. The men rushed to their villages, and in a short time we saw them arrayed in full fighting costume. Feathers of the ostrich and the eagle waved over their fronts, or the mane of the zebra surrounded their heads; their knees and ankles were hung with little bells; joho robes floated behind, from their necks; spears, assegais, knob-sticks, and bows were flourished over their heads, or held in their right hands, as if ready for hurling. On each flank of a large body which issued from the principal village, and which came at a uniform swinging double-quick, the ankle and knee bells all chiming in admirable unison, were a cloud of skirmishers, consisting of the most enthusiastic, who exercised themselves in mimic war as they sped along. Column after column, companies, and groups from every village hurried on past our camp until, probably, there were nearly a thousand soldiers gone to the war. This scene gave me a better idea than anything else of the weakness of even the largest caravans which travelled between Zanzibar and Unyanyembe. At night the warriors returned from the forest; the alarm proved to be without foundation. At first it was generally reported that the invaders were Wahehe, or the Wadirigo, as that tribe are scornfully called from their thieving propensities. The Wahehe frequently make a foray upon the fat cattle of Ugogo. They travel from their own country in the south-east, and advance through the jungle, and when about to approach the herds, stoop down, covering their bodies with their shields of bull-hide. Having arrived between the cattle and the herdsmen, they suddenly rise up and begin to switch the cattle heartily, and, having started them off into the jungle in the care of men already detailed for the work, they turn about, and plant their shields before them, to fight the aroused shepherds. On the 30th we arrived at Khonze, which is remarkable for the mighty globes of foliage which the giant sycamores and baobabs put forth above the plain. The chief of Khonze boasts of four tembes, out of which he could muster in the aggregate fifty armed men; yet this fellow, instigated by the Wanyamwezi residents, prepared to resist our advance, because I only sent him three doti--twelve yards of cloth--as honga. We were halted, waiting the return of a few friendly Wagogo travellers who had joined us, and who were asked to assist Bombay in the negotiation of the tribute, when the Wagogo returned to us at breathless speed, and shouted out to me, "Why do you halt here? Do you wish to die? These pagans will not take the tribute, but they boast that they will eat up all your cloth." The renegade Wanyamwezi who had married into Wagogo families were always our bane in this country. As the chief of Khonze came up I ordered the men to load their guns, and I loaded my own ostentatiously in his presence, and then strode up to him, and asked if he had come to take the cloth by force, or if he were going to accept quietly what I would give him. As the Mnyamwezi who caused this show of hostilities was beginning to speak, I caught him by the throat, and threatened to make his nose flatter if he attempted to speak again in my presence, and to shoot him first, if we should be forced to fight. The rascal was then pushed away into the rear. The chief, who was highly amused with this proceeding, laughed loudly at the discomfiture of the parasite, and in a short time he and I had settled the tribute to our mutual satisfaction, and we parted great friends. The Expedition arrived at Sanza that night. On the 31st we came to Kanyenyi, to the great Mtemi--Magomba's--whose son and heir is Mtundu M'gondeh. As we passed by the tembe of the great Sultan, the msagira, or chief counsellor, a pleasant grey-haired man, was at work making a thorn fence around a patch of young corn. He greeted the caravan with a sonorous "Yambo," and, putting himself at its head, he led the way to our camp. When introduced to me he was very cordial in his manner. He was offered a kiti-stool and began to talk very affably. He remembered my predecessors, Burton, Speke, and Grant, very well; declared me to be much younger than any of them; and, recollecting that one of the white men used to drink asses' milk (Burton?), offered to procure me some. The way I drank it seemed to give him very great satisfaction. His son, Unamapokera, was a tall man of thirty or thereabouts, and he conceived a great friendship for me, and promised that the tribute should be very light, and that he would send a man to show me the way to Myumi, which was a village on the frontier of Kanyenyi, by which I would be enabled to avoid the rapacious Kisewah, who was in the habit of enforcing large tribute from caravans. With the aid of Unamapokera and his father, we contrived to be mulcted very lightly, for we only paid ten doti, while Burton was compelled to pay sixty doti or two hundred and forty yards of cloth. On the 1st of April, rising early, we reached Myumi after a four hours' march; then plunged into the jungle, and, about 2 P.M. arrived at a large ziwa, or pond, situate in the middle of a jungle; and on the next day, at 10 A.M., reached the fields of Mapanga. We were passing the village of Mapanga to a resting-place beyond the village, where we might breakfast and settle the honga, when a lad rushed forward to meet us, and asked us where we were going. Having received a reply that we were going to a camping-place, he hastened on ahead, and presently we heard him talking to some men in a field on our right. In the meantime, we had found a comfortable shady place, and had come to a halt; the men were reclining on the ground, or standing up near their respective loads; Bombay was about opening a bale, when we heard a great rush of men, and loud shouts, and, immediately after, out rushed from the jungle near by a body of forty or fifty armed men, who held their spears above their heads, or were about to draw their bows, with a chief at their head, all uttering such howls of rage as only savages can, which sounded like a long-drawn "Hhaat-uh--Hhaat-uhh-uhh," which meant, unmistakably, "You will, will you? No, you will not!"--at once determined, defiant, and menacing. I had suspected that the voices I heard boded no good to us, and I had accordingly prepared my weapons and cartridges. Verily, what a fine chance for adventure this was! One spear flung at us, or one shot fired into this minatory mob of savages, and the opposing' bands had been plunged into a fatal conflict! There would have been no order of battle, no pomp of war, but a murderous strife, a quick firing of breech-loaders, and volleys from flint-lock muskets, mixed with the flying of spears and twanging of bows, the cowardly running away at once, pursued by yelping savages; and who knows how it all would have terminated? Forty spears against forty guns--but how many guns would not have decamped? Perhaps all, and I should have been left with my boy gunbearers to have my jugular deliberately severed, or to be decapitated, leaving my head to adorn a tall pole in the centre of a Kigogo village, like poor Monsieur Maizan's at Dege la Mhora, in Uzaramo. Happy end of an Expedition! And the Doctor's Journal lost for ever--the fruits of six years' labor! But in this land it will not do to fight unless driven to the very last extremity. No belligerent Mungo Park can be successful in Ugogo unless he has a sufficient force of men with him. With five hundred Europeans one could traverse Africa from north to south, by tact, and the moral effect that such a force would inspire. Very little fighting would be required. Without rising from the bale on which I was seated, I requested the kirangozi to demand an explanation of their furious hubbub and threatening aspect; if they were come to rob us. "No," said the chief; "we do not want to stop the road, or to rob you; but we want the tribute." "But don't you see us halted, and the bale opened to send it to you? We have come so far from your village that after the tribute is settled we can proceed on our way, as the day is yet young." The chief burst into a loud laugh, and was joined by ourselves. He evidently felt ashamed of his conduct for he voluntarily offered the explanation, that as he and his men were cutting wood to make a new fence for his village, a lad came up to him, and said that a caravan of Wangwana were about passing through the country without stopping to explain who they were. We were soon very good friends. He begged of me to make rain for him, as his crops were suffering, and no rain had fallen for months. I told him that though white people were very great and clever people, much superior to the Arabs, yet we could not make rain. Though very much disappointed, he did not doubt my statement, and after receiving his honga, which was very light, he permitted us to go on our way, and even accompanied us some distance to show us the road. At 3 P.M. we entered a thorny jungle; and by 5 P.M. we had arrived at Muhalata, a district lorded over by the chief Nyamzaga. A Mgogo, of whom I made a friend, proved very staunch. He belonged to Mulowa, a country to the S.S.E., and south of Kulabi; and was active in promoting my interests by settling the tribute, with the assistance of Bombay, for me. When, on the next day, we passed through Kulabi on our way to Mvumi, and the Wagogo were about to stop us for the honga, he took upon himself the task of relieving us from further toll, by stating we were from Ugogo or Kanyenyi. The chief simply nodded his head, and we passed on. It seems that the Wagogo do not exact blackmail of those caravans who intend only to trade in their own country, or have no intention of passing beyond their own frontier. Leaving Kulabi, we traversed a naked, red, loamy plain, over which the wind from the heights of Usagara, now rising a bluish-black jumble of mountains in our front, howled most fearfully. With clear, keen, incisive force, the terrible blasts seemed to penetrate through an through our bodies, as though we were but filmy gauze. Manfully battling against this mighty "peppo"--storm--we passed through Mukamwa's, and crossing a broad sandy bed of a stream, we entered the territory of Mvumi, the last tribute-levying chief of Ugogo. The 4th of April, after sending Bombay and my friendly Mgogo with eight doti, or thirty-two yards of cloth, as a farewell tribute to the Sultan, we struck off through the jungle, and in five hours we were on the borders of the wilderness of "Marenga Mkali"--the "hard," bitter or brackish, water. From our camp I despatched three men to Zanzibar with letters to the American Consul, and telegraphic despatches for the 'Herald,' with a request to the Consul that he would send the men back with a small case or two containing such luxuries as hungry, worn-out, and mildewed men would appreciate. The three messengers were charged not to halt for anything--rain or no rain, river or inundation--as if they did not hurry up we should catch them before they reached the coast. With a fervent "Inshallah, bana," they departed. On the 5th, with a loud, vigorous, cheery "Hurrah!" we plunged into the depths of the wilderness, which, with its eternal silence and solitude, was far preferable to the jarring, inharmonious discord of the villages of the Wagogo. For nine hours we held on our way, starting with noisy shouts the fierce rhinoceros, the timid quagga, and the herds of antelopes which crowd the jungles of this broad salina. On the 7th, amid a pelting rain, we entered Mpwapwa, where my Scotch assistant, Farquhar, died. We had performed the extraordinary march of 338 English statute miles from the 14th of March to the 7th of April, or within twenty-four days, inclusive of halts, which was a little over fourteen miles a day. Leukole, the chief of Mpwapwa, with whom I left Farquhar, gave the following account of the death of the latter:-- "The white man seemed to be improving after you left him, until the, fifth day, when, while attempting to rise and walk out of his tent, he fell back; from that minute he got worse and worse, and in the afternoon he died, like one going to sleep. His legs and abdomen had swollen considerably, and something, I think, broke within him when he fell, for he cried out like a man who was very much hurt, and his servant said, 'The master says he is dying.' "We had him carried out under a large tree, and after covering him with leaves, there left him. His servant took possession of his things, his rifle, clothes, and blanket, and moved off to the tembe of a Mnyamwezi, near Kisokweh, where he lived for three months, when he also died. Before he died he sold his master's rifle to an Arab going to Unyanyembe for ten doti (forty yards of cloth). That is all I know about it." He subsequently showed me the hollow into which the dead body of Farquhar was thrown, but I could not find a vestige of his bones, though we looked sharply about that we might make a decent grave for them. Before we left Unyanyembe fifty men were employed two days carrying rocks, with which I built up a solid enduring pile around Shaw's grave eight feet long and five feet broad, which Dr. Livingstone said would last hundreds of years, as the grave of the first white man who died in Unyamwezi. But though we could not discover any remains of the unfortunate Farquhar, we collected a large quantity of stones, and managed to raise a mound near the banks of the stream to commemorate the spot where his body was laid. It was not until we had entered the valley of the Mukondokwa River that we experienced anything like privation or hardship from the Masika. Here the torrents thundered and roared; the river was a mighty brown flood, sweeping downward with, an almost resistless flow. The banks were brimful, and broad nullahs were full of water, and the fields were inundated, and still the rain came surging down in a shower, that warned us of what we might expect during our transit of the sea-coast region. Still we urged our steps onward like men to whom every moment was precious--as if a deluge was overtaking us. Three times we crossed this awful flood at the fords by means of ropes tied to trees from bank to bank, and arrived at Kadetamare on the 11th, a most miserable, most woe-begone set of human beings; and camped on a hill opposite Mount Kibwe, which rose on the right of the river--one of the tallest peaks of the range. On the 12th of April, after six hours of the weariest march I had ever undergone, we arrived at the mouth of the Mukondokwa Pass, out of which the river debouches into the Plain of Makata. We knew that it was an unusual season, for the condition of the country, though bad enough the year before, was as nothing compared to this year. Close to the edge of the foaming, angry flood lay our route, dipping down frequently into deep ditches, wherein we found ourselves sometimes up to the waist in water, and sometimes up to the throat. Urgent necessity impelled us onward, lest we might have to camp at one of these villages until the end of the monsoon rains; so we kept on, over marshy bottoms, up to the knees in mire, under jungly tunnels dripping with wet, then into sloughs arm-pit deep. Every channel seemed filled to overflowing, yet down the rain poured, beating the surface of the river into yellowish foam, pelting us until we were almost breathless. Half a day's battling against such difficulties brought us, after crossing the river, once again to the dismal village of Mvumi. We passed the night fighting swarms of black and voracious mosquitoes, and in heroic endeavours to win repose in sleep, in which we were partly successful, owing to the utter weariness of our bodies. On the 13th we struck out of the village of Mvumi. It had rained the whole night, and the morning brought no cessation. Mile after mile we traversed, over fields covered by the inundation, until we came to a branch river-side once again, where the river was narrow, and too deep to ford in the middle. We proceeded to cut a tree down, and so contrived that it should fall right across the stream. Over this fallen tree the men, bestriding it, cautiously moved before them their bales and boxes; but one young fellow, Rojab--through over-zeal, or in sheer madness--took up the Doctor's box which contained his letters and Journal of his discoveries on his head, and started into the river. I had been the first to arrive on the opposite bank, in order to superintend the crossing; when I caught sight of this man walking in the river with the most precious box of all on his head. Suddenly he fell into a deep hole, and the man and box went almost out of sight, while I was in an agony at the fate which threatened the despatches. Fortunately, he recovered himself and stood up, while I shouted to him, with a loaded revolver pointed at his head, "Look out! Drop that bog, and I'll shoot you." All the men halted in their work while they gazed at their comrade who was thus imperilled by bullet and flood. The man himself seemed to regard the pistol with the greatest awe, and after a few desperate efforts succeeded in getting the box safely ashore. As the articles within were not damaged, Rojab escaped punishment, with a caution not to touch the bog again on any account, and it was transferred to the keeping of the sure-footed and perfect pagazi, Maganga. From this stream, in about an hour, we came to the main river, but one look at its wild waters was enough. We worked hard to construct a raft, but after cutting down four trees and lashing the green logs together, and pushing them into the whirling current, we saw them sink like lead. We then tied together all the strong rope in our possession, and made a line 180 feet long, with one end of which tied round his body, Chowpereh was sent across to lash it to a tree. He was carried far down the stream; but being an excellent swimmer, he succeeded in his attempt. The bales were lashed around the middle, and, heaved into the stream, were dragged through the river to the opposite bank, as well as the tent, and such things as could not be injured much by the water. Several of the men, as well as myself, were also dragged through the water; each of the boys being attended by the best swimmers; but when we came to the letter-boxes and valuables, we could suggest no means to take them over. Two camps were accordingly made, one on each side of the stream; the one on the bank which I had just left occupying an ant-hill of considerable height; while my party had to content itself with a flat, miry marsh. An embankment of soil, nearly a foot high, was thrown up in a circle thirty feet in diameter, in the centre of which my tent was pitched, and around it booths were erected. It was an extraordinary and novel position that we found ourselves in. Within twenty feet of our camp was a rising river, with flat, low banks; above us was a gloomy, weeping sky; surrounding us on three sides was an immense forest, on whose branches we heard the constant, pattering rain; beneath our feet was a great depth of mud, black and loathsome; add to these the thought that the river might overflow, and sweep us to utter destruction. In the morning the river was still rising, and an inevitable doom seemed to hang over us. There was yet time to act--to bring over the people, with the most valuable effects of the Expedition--as I considered Dr. Livingstone's Journal and letters, and my own papers, of far greater value than anything else. While looking at the awful river an idea struck me that I might possibly carry the boxes across, one at a time, by cutting two slender poles, and tying cross sticks to them, making a kind of hand-barrow, on which a box might rest when lashed to it. Two men swimming across, at the same time holding on to the rope, with the ends of the poles resting on the men's shoulders, I thought, would be enabled to convey over a 70 lb. box with ease. In a short time one of these was made, and six couples of the strongest swimmers were prepared, and stimulated with a rousing glass of stiff grog each man, with a promise of cloth to each also if they succeeded in getting everything ashore undamaged by the water. When I saw with what ease they dragged themselves across, the barrow on their shoulders, I wondered that I had not thought of the plan before. Within an hour of the first couple had gone over, the entire Expedition was safe on the eastern bank; and at once breaking camp, we marched north through the swampy forest, which in some places was covered with four feet of water. Seven hours' constant splashing brought us to Rehenneko, after experiencing several queer accidents. We were now on the verge only of the inundated plain of the Makata, which, even with the last year's rain, was too horrible to think of undertaking again in cold blood. We were encamped ten days on a hill near Rehenneko, or until the 25th, when, the rain having entirely ceased, we resolved to attempt the crossing of the Makata. The bales of cloth had all been distributed as presents to the men for their work, except a small quantity which I retained for the food of my own mess. But we should have waited a month longer, for the inundation had not abated four inches. However, after we once struggled up to our necks in water it was use less to turn back. For two marches of eight hours each we plunged through slush, mire, deep sloughs, water up to our necks, and muddy cataclysms, swam across nullahs, waded across gullies, and near sunset of the second day arrived on the banks of the Makata River. My people are not likely to forget that night; not one of them was able to sleep until it was long past midnight, because of the clouds of mosquitoes, which threatened to eat us all up; and when the horn sounded for the march of another day, there was not one dissentient amongst them. It was 5 A.M. when we began the crossing of the Makata River, but beyond it for six miles stretched one long lake, the waters of which flowed gently towards the Wami. This was the confluence of the streams: four rivers were here gathered into one. The natives of Kigongo warned us not to attempt it, as the water was over our heads; but I had only to give a hint to the men, and we set on our way. Even the water--we were getting quite amphibious--was better than the horrible filth and piles of decaying vegetation which were swept against the boma of the village. We were soon up to our armpits, then the water shallowed to the knee, then we stepped up to the neck, and waded on tiptoe, supporting the children above the water; and the same experiences occurred as those which we suffered the day before, until we were halted on the edge of the Little Makata, which raced along at the rate of eight knots an hour; but it was only fifty yards wide, and beyond it rose a high bank, and dry park-lands which extended as far as Simbo. We had no other option than to swim it; but it was a slow operation, the current was so swift and strong. Activity and zeal, high rewards, presents of money, backed by the lively feeling that we were nearing home, worked wonders, and in a couple of hours we were beyond the Makata. Cheery and hopeful, we sped along the dry, smooth path that now lay before us, with the ardor and vivacity of heroes, and the ease and power of veterans, We rolled three ordinary marches into one that day, and long before night arrived at Simbo. On the 29th we crossed the Ungerengeri, and as we came to Simbamwenni-the "Lion City" of Useguhha--lo! what a change! The flooded river had swept the entire front wall of the strongly-walled city away, and about fifty houses had been destroyed by the torrent. Villages of Waruguru, on the slopes of the Uruguru Mountains--Mkambaku range--had also suffered disastrously. If one-fourth of the reports we heard were true, at least a hundred people must have perished. The Sultana had fled, and the stronghold of Kimbengo was no more! A deep canal that he had caused to be excavated when alive, to bring a branch of the Ungerengeri near his city--which was his glory and boast--proved the ruin of Simbamwenni. After the destruction of the place the river had formed a new bed, about 300 yards from the city. But what astonished us most were the masses of debris which seemed to be piled everywhere, and the great numbers of trees that were prostrate; and they all seemed to lie in the same direction, as if a strong wind had come from the south-west. The aspect of the Ungerengeri valley was completely changed--from a Paradise it was converted into a howling waste. We continued our march until we reached Ulagalla, and it was evident, as we advanced, that an unusual storm had passed over the land, for the trees in some places seemed to lie in swathes. A most fatiguing and long march brought us to Mussoudi, on the eastern bank of the Ungerengeri; but long before we reached it we realized that a terrific destruction of human life and property had occurred. The extent and nature of the calamity may be imagined, when I state that nearly ONE HUNDRED VILLAGES, according to Mussoudi's report, were swept away. Mussoudi, the Diwan, says that the inhabitants had gone to rest as usual--as they had done ever since he had settled in the valley, twenty-five years ago--when, in the middle of the night, they heard a roar like many thunders, which woke them up to the fact that death was at work in the shape of an enormous volume of water, that, like a wall, came down, tearing the tallest trees with it, carrying away scores of villages at one fell, sure swoop into utter destruction. The scene six days after the event--when the river has subsided into its normal breadth and depth during the monsoons--is simply awful. Wherever we look, we find something very suggestive of the devastation that has visited the country; fields of corn are covered with many feet of sand and debris; the sandy bed the river has deserted is about a mile wide; and there are but three villages standing of all that I noticed when en route to Unyanyembe. When I asked Mussoudi where the people had gone to, he replied, "God has taken most of them, but some have gone to Udoe." The surest blow ever struck at the tribe of the Wakami was indeed given by the hand of God; and, to use the words of the Diwan, "God's power is wonderful, and who can resist Him!" I again resort to my Diary, and extract the following: April 30th.--Passing Msuwa, we travelled hurriedly through the jungle which saw such hard work with us when going to Unyanyembe. What dreadful odors and indescribable loathing this jungle produces! It is so dense that a tiger could not crawl through it; it is so impenetrable that an elephant could not force his way! Were a bottleful of concentrated miasma, such as we inhale herein, collected, what a deadly poison, instantaneous in its action, undiscoverable in its properties, would it be! I think it would act quicker than chloroform, be as fatal as prussic acid. Horrors upon horrors are in it. Boas above our heads, snakes and scorpions under our feet. Land-crabs, terrapins, and iguanas move about in our vicinity. Malaria is in the air we breathe; the road is infested with "hotwater" ants, which bite our legs until we dance and squirm about like madmen. Yet, somehow, we are fortunate enough to escape annihilation, and many another traveller might also. Yet here, in verity, are the ten plagues of Egypt, through which a traveller in these regions must run the gauntlet: 1. Plague of boas. | 7. Suffocation from the 2. Red ants, or "hot-water." | density of the jungle. 3 Scorpions. | 8. Stench. 4. Thorns and spear cacti. | 9. Thorns in the road. 5. Numerous impediments. | 10. Miasma. 6 Black mud knee-deep. | May 1st. Kingaru Hera.--We heard news of a great storm having raged at Zanzibar, which has destroyed every house and every ship,--so the story runs;--and the same destruction has visited Bagamoyo and Whinde, they say. But I am by this time pretty well acquainted with the exaggerative tendency of the African. It is possible that serious loss has been sustained, from the evidences of the effects of the storm in the interior. I hear, also, that there are white men at Bagamoyo, who are about starting into the country to look after me (?). Who would look after me, I cannot imagine. I think they must have some confused idea of my Expedition; though, how they came to know that I was looking for any man I cannot conceive, because I never told a soul until I reached Unyanyembe. May 2nd. Rosako.--I had barely arrived at the village before the three men I despatched from Mvumi, Ugogo, entered, bringing with them from the generous American Consul a few bottles of champagne, a few pots of jam, and two boxes of Boston crackers. These were most welcome after my terrible experiences in the Makata Valley. Inside one of these boxes, carefully put up by the Consul, were four numbers of the 'Herald'; one of which contained my correspondence from Unyanyembe, wherein were some curious typographical errors, especially in figures and African names. I suppose my writing was wretched, owing to my weakness. In another are several extracts from various newspapers, in which I learn that many editors regard the Expedition into Africa as a myth. Alas! it has been a terrible, earnest fact with me; nothing but hard, conscientious work, privation, sickness, and almost death. Eighteen men have paid the forfeit of their lives in the undertaking. It certainly is not a myth--the death of my two white assistants; they, poor fellows, found their fate in the inhospitable regions of the interior. One of my letters received from Zanzibar by my messengers states that there is an expedition at Bagamoyo called the "Livingstone Search and Relief Expedition." What will the leaders of it do now? Livingstone is found and relieved already. Livingstone says he requires nothing more. It is a misfortune that they did not start earlier; then they might with propriety proceed, and be welcomed. May 4th.---Arrived at Kingwere's Ferry, but we were unable to attract the attention of the canoe paddler. Between our camp and Bagamoyo we have an inundated plain that is at least four miles broad. The ferrying of our Expedition across this broad watery waste will occupy considerable time. May 5th.--Kingwere, the canoe proprietor, came about 11 A.M. from his village at Gongoni, beyond the watery plain. By his movements I am fain to believe him to be a descendant of some dusky King Log, for I have never seen in all this land the attributes and peculiarities of that royal personage so faithfully illustrated as in Kingwere. He brought two canoes with him, short, cranky things, in which only twelve of us could embark at a time. It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon before we arrived at Gongoni village. May 6th.--After impressing Kingwere with the urgent necessity of quick action on his part, with a promise of an extra five-dollar gold piece, I had the satisfaction to behold the last man reach my camp at 3.30 p.m. An hour later, and we are en route, at a pace that I never saw equalled at any time by my caravan. Every man's feelings are intensified, for there is an animated, nay, headlong, impetuosity about their movements that indicates but too well what is going on in their minds. Surely, my own are a faithful index to their feelings; and I do not feel a whit too proud to acknowledge the great joy that possesses me. I feel proud to think that I have been successful; but, honestly, I do not feel so elated at that as at the hope that to-morrow I shall sit before a table bounteous with the good things of this life. How I will glory in the hams, and potatoes, and good bread! What a deplorable state of mind, is it not? Ah, my friend, wait till you are reduced to a skeleton by gaunt famine and coarse, loathsome food--until you have waded a Makata swamp, and marched 525 miles in thirty-five days through such weather as we have had--then you will think such pabula, food fit for gods! Happy are we that,--after completing our mission, after the hurry and worry of the march, after the anxiety and vexation suffered from fractious tribes, after tramping for the last fifteen days through mire and Stygian marsh,--we near Beulah's peace and rest! Can we do otherwise than express our happiness by firing away gunpowder until our horns are emptied--than shout our "hurrahs" until we are hoarse--than, with the hearty, soul-inspiring "Yambos," greet every mother's son fresh from the sea? Not so, think the Wangwana soldiers; and I so sympathize with them that I permit them to act their maddest without censure. At sunset we enter the town of Bagamoyo. "More pilgrims come to town," were the words heard in Beulah. "The white man has come to town," were the words we heard in Bagamoyo. And we shall cross the water tomorrow to Zanzibar, and shall enter the golden gate; we shall see nothing, smell nothing, taste nothing that is offensive to the stomach any more! The kirangozi blows his horn, and gives forth blasts potential as Astolpho's, as the natives and Arabs throng around us. And that bright flag, whose stars have waved over the waters of the great lake in Central Africa, which promised relief to the harassed Livingstone when in distress at Ujiji, returns to the sea once again--torn, it is true, but not dishonoured--tattered, but not disgraced. As we reached the middle of the town, I saw on the steps of a large white house a white man, in flannels and helmet similar to that I wore. I thought myself rather akin to white men in general, and I walked up to him. He advanced towards me, and we shook hands--did everything but embrace. "Won't you walk in?" said he. "Thanks." "What will you have to drink--beer, stout, brandy? Eh, by George! I congratulate you on your splendid success," said he, impetuously. I knew him immediately. He was an Englishman. He was Lieut. William Henn, R.N., chief of the Livingstone Search and Relief Expedition, about to be despatched by the Royal Geographical Society to find and relieve Livingstone. The former chief, as the Expedition was at first organized, was Lieut. Llewellyn S. Dawson, who, as soon as he heard from my men that I had found Livingstone, had crossed over to Zanzibar, and, after consultation with Dr. John Kirk, had resigned. He had now nothing further to do with it, the command having formally devolved on Lieut. Henn. A Mr. Charles New, also, missionary from Mombasah, had joined the expedition, but he had resigned too. So now there were left but Lieut. Henn and Mr. Oswell Livingstone, second son of the Doctor. "Is Mr. Oswell Livingstone here?" I asked, with considerable surprise. "Yes; he will be here directly." "What are you going to do now?" I asked. "I don't think it worth my while to go now. You have taken the wind out of our sails completely. If you have relieved him, I don't see the use of my going. Do you?" "Well, it depends. You know your own orders best. If you have come only to find and relieve him, I can tell you truly he is found and relieved, and that he wants nothing more than a few canned meats, and some other little things which I dare say you have not got. I have his list in his own handwriting with me. But his son must go anyhow, and I can get men easily enough for him." "Well, if he is relieved, it is of no use my going." At this time in walked a slight, young, gentlemanly man, with light complexion, light hair, dark, lustrous eyes, who was introduced to me as Mr. Oswell Livingstone. The introduction was hardly necessary, for in his features there was much of what were the specialities of his father. There was an air of quiet resolution about him, and in the greeting which he gave me he exhibited rather a reticent character; but I attributed that to a receptive nature, which augured well for the future. "I was telling Lieut. Henn that, whether he goes or not, you must go to your father, Mr. Livingstone." "Oh, I mean to go." "Yes, that's right. I will furnish you with men and what stores your father needs. My men will take you to Unyanyembe without any difficulty. They know the road well, and that is a great advantage. They know how to deal with the negro chiefs, and you will have no need to trouble your head about them, but march. The great thing that is required is speed. Your father will be waiting for the things." "I will march them fast enough, if that is all." "Oh, they will be going up light, and they can easily make long marches." It was settled, then. Henn made up his mind that, as the Doctor had been relieved, he was not wanted; but, before formally resigning, he intended to consult with Dr. Kirk, and for that purpose he would cross over to Zanzibar the next day with the 'Herald' Expedition. At 2 A.M. I retired to sleep on a comfortable bed. There was a great smell of newness about certain articles in the bedroom, such as haversacks, knapsacks, portmanteaus, leather gun-cases, &c. Evidently the new Expedition had some crudities about it; but a journey into the interior would soon have lessened the stock of superfluities, which all new men at first load themselves with. Ah! what a sigh of relief was that I gave, as I threw myself on my bed, at the thought that, "Thank God! my marching was ended." CHAPTER XVI. -- VALEDICTORY. At 5 P.M., on the 7th of May, 1872, the dhow which conveyed my Expedition back to Zanzibar arrived in the harbor, and the men, delighted to find themselves once more so near their homes, fired volley after volley, the American flag was hoisted up, and we soon saw the house-roofs and wharves lined with spectators, many of whom were Europeans, with glasses levelled at us. We drew ashore slowly; but a boat putting off to take us to land, we stepped into it, and I was soon in presence of my friend the Consul, who heartily welcomed me back to Zanzibar; and soon after was introduced to the Rev. Charles New, who was but a day or two previous to my arrival an important member of the English Search Expedition--a small, slight man in appearance, who, though he looked weakly, had a fund of energy or nervousness in him which was almost too great for such a body. He also heartily congratulated me. After a bounteous dinner, to which I did justice in a manner that astonished my new friends, Lieut. Dawson called to see me, and said: "Mr. Stanley, let me congratulate you, sir." Lieut. Dawson then went on to state how he envied me my success; how I had "taken the wind out of his sails" (a nautical phrase similar to that used by Lieut. Henn); how, when he heard from my men that Dr. Livingstone had been found, he at once crossed over from Bagamoyo to Zanzibar, and, after a short talk with Dr. Kirk, at once resigned. "But do you not think, Mr. Dawson, you have been rather too hasty in tendering your resignation, from the more verbal report of my men?" "Perhaps," said he; "but I heard that Mr. Webb had received a letter from you, and that you and Livingstone had discovered that the Rusizi ran into the lake--that you had the Doctor's letters and despatches with you." "Yes; but you acquired all this information from my men; you have seen nothing yourself. You have therefore resigned before you had personal evidence of the fact." "Well, Dr. Livingstone is relieved and found, as Mr. Henn tells me, is he not?" "Yes, that is true enough. He is well supplied; he only requires a few little luxuries, which I am going to send him by an expedition of fifty freemen. Dr. Livingstone is found and relieved, most certainly; and I have all the letters and despatches which he could possibly send to his friends." "But don't you think I did perfectly right?" "Hardly--though, perhaps, it would come to the same thing in the end. Any more cloth and beads than he has already would be an incumbrance. Still, you have your orders from the Royal Geographical Society. I have not seen those yet, and I am not prepared to judge what your best course would have been. But I think you did wrong in resigning before you saw me; for then you would have had, probably, a legitimate excuse for resigning. I should have held on to the Expedition until I had consulted with those who sent me; though, in such an event as this, the order would be, perhaps, to 'Come home.'" "As it has turned out, though, don't you think I did right?" "Most certainly it would be useless for you to go to search for and relieve Livingstone now, because he has already been sought, found, and relieved; but perhaps you had other orders." "Only, if I went into the country, I was then to direct my attention to exploration; but the primary object having been forestalled by you, I am compelled to return home. The Admiralty granted me leave of absence only for the search, and never said anything about exploration." That evening I despatched a boy over to the English Consulate with letters from the great traveller for Dr. Kirk and Mr. Oswell Livingstone. I was greeted warmly by the American and German residents, who could not have shown warmer feeling than if Dr. Livingstone had been a near and dear relation of their own. Capt. H. A. Fraser and Dr. James Christie were also loud in their praises. It seems that both of these gentlemen had attempted to despatch a private expedition to the relief of their countryman, but through some means it had failed. They had contributed the sum of $500 to effect this laudable object; but the man to whom they had entrusted its command had been engaged by another for a different purpose, at a higher sum. But, instead of feeling annoyed that I had performed what they had intended to do, they were among my most enthusiastic admirers. The next day I received a call from Dr. Kirk, who warmly congratulated me upon my success. Bishop Tozer also came, and thanked me for tie service I had rendered to Dr. Livingstone. On this day I also discharged my men, and re-engaged twenty of them to return to the "Great Master." Bombay, though in the interior he had scorned the idea of money rewards, and though he had systematically, in my greatest need, endeavoured to baffle me in every way, received, besides his pay, a present of $50, and each man, according to his merits, from $20 to $50. For this was a day to bury all animosities, and condone all offences. They, poor people, had only acted according to their nature, and I remembered that from Ujiji to the coast they had all behaved admirably. I saw I was terribly emaciated and changed when I presented myself before a full-length mirror. All confirmed my opinion that I was much older in my appearance, and that my hair had become grey. Capt. Fraser had said, when I hailed him, "You have the advantage of me, sir!" and until I mentioned my name he did not know me. Even then he jocosely remarked that he believed that it was another Tichborne affair. I was so different that identity was almost lost, even during the short period of thirteen months; that is, from March 23rd, 1871, to May 7th, 1872. Lieut. Henn the morning after my arrival formally resigned, and the Expedition was from this time in the hands of Mr. Oswell Livingstone, who made up his mind to sell the stores, retaining such as would be useful to his father. After disbanding my Expedition, I set about preparing another, according to Dr. Livingstone's request. What the English Expedition lacked I purchased out of the money advanced by Mr. Oswell Livingstone. The guns, fifty in number, were also furnished out of the stores of the English Expedition by him; and so were the ammunition, the honga cloth, for the tribute to the Wagogo, and the cloth for provisioning the force. Mr. Livingstone worked hard in the interests of his father and assisted me to the utmost of his ability. He delivered over to me, to be packed up, 'Nautical Almanacs' for 1872, 1873, 1874; also a chronometer, which formerly belonged to Dr. Livingstone. All these things, besides a journal, envelopes, note-books, writing-paper, medicines, canned fruits and fish, a little wine, some tea, cutlery and table ware, newspapers, and private letters and despatches, were packed up in air-tight tin boxes, as well as 100 lbs. of fine American flour, and some boxes of soda biscuits. Until the 19th of May it was understood that Mr. Oswell Livingstone would take charge of the caravan to his father; but about this date he changed his mind, and surprised me with a note stating he had decided not to go to Unyanyembe, for reasons he thought just and sufficient. Under these circumstances, my duty was to follow out the instructions of Dr. Livingstone, in procuring a good and efficient leader to take charge of the caravan as far as Unyanyembe. In a few hours I succeeded in obtaining an Arab highly recommended from Sheikh Hashid, whom I engaged at an advance of $100. The young Arab, though not remarkably bright, seemed honest and able, but I left his further employment after reaching Unyanyembe to Dr. Livingstone, who would be able to decide then whether he was quite trustworthy. The next day I collected the men of the new Livingstone Expedition together, and as it was dangerous to allow them to wander about the city, I locked them up in a courtyard, and fed them there, until every soul, fifty seven in number, answered to their names. In the meantime, through the American Consul's assistance, I obtained the services of Johari, the chief dragoman of the American Consulate, who was charged with the conduct of the party across the inundated plain of the Kingani, and who was enjoined on no account to return until the Expedition had started on its march from the western bank of the Kingani River. Mr. Oswell Livingstone generously paid him a douceur for the promise of doing his work thoroughly. A dhow having been brought to anchor before the American Consulate, I then addressed my old companions, saying, "You are now about to return to Unyanyembe, to the 'Great Master'. You know him; you know he is a good man, and has a kind heart. He is different from me; he will not beat you, as I have done. But you know I have rewarded you all--how I have made you all rich in cloth and money. You know how, when you behaved yourselves well, I was your friend. I gave you plenty to eat and plenty to wear. When you were sick I looked after you. If I was so good to you, the 'Great Master' will be much more so. He has a pleasant voice, and speaks kind. When did you ever see him lift his hand against an offender? When you were wicked, he did not speak to you in anger--he spoke to you in tones of sorrow. Now, will you promise me that you will follow him--do what he tells you, obey him in all things, and not desert him?" "We will, we will, my master!" they all cried, fervently. "Then there is one thing more. I want to shake hands with you all before you go--and we part for ever;" and they all rushed up at once, and a vigorous shake was interchanged with each man. "Now, let every man take up his load!" In a short time I marched them out into the street, and to the beach; saw them all on board, and the canvas hoisted, and the dhow speeding westward on her way to Bagamoyo. I felt strange and lonely, somehow. My dark friends, who had travelled over so many hundreds of miles, and shared so many dangers with me, were gone, and I--was left behind. How many of their friendly faces shall I see again? On the 29th, the steamer 'Africa,' belonging to the German Consulate, was chartered by a party of five of us, and we departed from Zanzibar to Seychelles, with the good wishes of almost all the European residents on the island. We arrived at Seychelles on the 9th of June, about twelve hours after the French mail had departed for Aden. As there is only monthly communication between Mahe (Seychelles) and Aden, we were compelled to remain on the island of Mahe one month. My life in Mahe is among the most agreeable things connected with my return from Africa. I found my companions estimable gentlemen, and true Christians. Mr. Livingstone exhibited many amiable traits of character, and proved himself to be a studious, thoughtful, earnest man. When at last the French steamer came from Mauritius, there was not one of our party who did not regret leaving the beautiful island, and the hospitable British officers who were stationed there. The Civil Commissioner, Mr. Hales Franklyn, and Dr. Brooks, did their utmost to welcome the wanderer, and I take this opportunity to acknowledge the many civilities I personally received from them. At Aden, the passengers from the south were transferred on board the French mail steamer, the 'Mei-kong,' en route from China to Marseilles. At the latter port I was received with open arms by Dr. Hosmer and the representative of the 'Daily Telegraph,' and was then told how men regarded the results of the Expedition; but it was not until I arrived in England that I realised it. Mr. Bennett, who originated and sustained the enterprise, now crowned it by one of the most generous acts that could be conceived. I had promised Dr. Livingstone, that twenty-four hours after I saw his letters to Mr. Bennett published in the London journals, I would post his letters to his family and friends in England. In order to permit me to keep my plighted word, and in order that there might be no delay in the delivery of his family letters, Mr. Bennett's agent telegraphed to New York the 'Herald' letters I had received from Dr. Livingstone at an expense of nearly £2,000. And now, dear reader, the time has come for you and I to part. Let us hope that it is not final. A traveller finds himself compelled to repeat the regretful parting word often. During the career recorded in the foregoing book, I have bidden many farewells; to the Wagogo, with their fierce effrontery; to Mionvu, whose blackmailing once so affected me; to the Wavinza, whose noisy clatter promised to provoke dire hostilities; to the inhospitable Warundi; to the Arab slave-traders and half-castes; to all fevers, remittent, and intermittent; to the sloughs and swamps of Makata; to the brackish waters and howling wastes; to my own dusky friends and followers, and to the hero-traveller and Christian gentleman, David Livingstone. It is with kindliest wishes to all who have followed my footsteps on these pages that I repeat once more--Farewell. CONCLUDING CHAPTER. The following correspondence, and especially the last letter, which was accompanied by a beautiful and valuable gold snuff-box set with brilliants, will be treasured by me as among the pleasantest results of my undertaking. H. M. S. Foreign Office, August 1. Sir, I am directed by Earl Granville to acknowledge the receipt of a packet containing letters and despatches from Dr. Livingstone, which you were good enough to deliver to her Majesty's ambassador at Paris for transmission to this department; and I am to convey to you his Lordship's thanks for taking charge of these interesting documents. I am, Sir, Your most obedient humble servant, ENFIELD. Henry M. Stanley, Esq., 'New York Herald Bureau,' 46, Fleet Street, London, ------ooo---- London, August 2. Henry M. Stanley, Esq., has handed to me to-day the diary of Dr. Livingstone, my father, sealed and signed by my father, with instructions written on the outside, signed by my father, for the care of which, and for all his actions concerning and to my father, our very best thanks are due. We have not the slightest reason to doubt that this is my father's journal, and I certify that the letters he has brought home are my father's letters, and no others. Tom S. Livingstone ------------oooo------- August 2, 1872. Sir, I was not aware until you mentioned it that there was any doubt as to the authenticity of Dr. Livingstone's despatches, which you delivered to Lord Lyons on the 31st of July. But, in consequence of what you said I have inquired into the matter, and I find that Mr. Hammond, the Under-Secretary of the Foreign Office, and Mr. Wylde, the head of the Consular and Slave Trade Department, have not the slightest doubt as to the genuineness of the papers which have been received from Lord Lyons, and which are being printed. I cannot omit this opportunity, of expressing to you my admiration of the qualities which have enabled you to achieve the object of your mission, and to attain a result which has been hailed with so much enthusiasm both in the United States and in this country. I am, Sir, Your obedient, GRANVILLE. Henry Stanley, Esq. -------------oooo------- Foreign Office, August 27. SIR, I have great satisfaction in conveying to you, by command of the Queen, her Majesty's high appreciation of the prudence and zeal which you have displayed in opening a communication with Dr. Livingstone, and relieving her Majesty from the anxiety which, in common with her subjects, she had felt in regard to the fate of that distinguished traveller. The Queen desires me to express her thanks for the service you have thus rendered, together with her Majesty's congratulations on your having so successfully carried on the mission which you fearlessly undertook. Her Majesty also desires me to request your acceptance of the memorial which accompanies this letter. I am, Sir, Your most obedient humble servant, GRANVILLE GLOSSARY. Boma....... enclosure. Bubu....... black beads. Diwan...... elder, chief, or magistrate. Doti...... four yards of cloth. Dowa...... medicine. Fundo...... ten necklaces, or ten khetes. Ghulabio..... a species of bead. Hafde ..... a species of bead. Hamal ..... carrier. Honga ..... tribute. Ismahili..... a native name for a particular kind of cloth. Kadunguru..... a brick-coloured species of bead. Kaif-Halek.... "How do you do?" Kaniki .... a blue cloth manufactured in India. Knambi .... camp. Khete .... one necklace, or a tenth of a fundo. Kichuma-chuma... "Little Irons," a disease of the liver. Kirangozi.... guide. Kitambi .... a cloth. Kiti..... stool. Lakhio..... a pink-coloured species of bead. Lunghio..... blue beads. Lunghio mbamba... small blue beads. Lunghio rega... large blue beads. M ..... a prefix to denote a person of any country as M-jiji, a native of Jiji. Manyapara.... elder, or sub-chief. Matama..... Holcus sorghum, or the Arabic dourra. Mbembu..... forest peach Merikani..... unbleached domestics manufactured in America. Mganga..... a medicine man, or magic doctor, Miezi-Mungu.... a Kisawahili term for "God." Mtemi .... a term synonymous with king Mtoni..... nullah. Muhongo..... tribute. Mulungu..... a native term for "God." Mukunguru.... intermittent fever. Mvuha..... thunder. Ngombe..... a cow. Pagazi..... a porter, or carrier. Posho..... food. Sami-Sami.... the name of red beads Shamba..... a field. Shasr..... a muslin cloth. Sheikh..... a title of courtesy given to an elderly man. Shukka..... two yards of cloth. Sohari..... a kind of coloured cloth. Sungomazzi.... large glass or china beads of the size of marbles. Toujiri..... the name for a particular kind of cloth. U ..... a prefix to denote the country: thus U-jiji signifies the country of Jiji. Uganga..... medicine. Wa- ..... a prefix to denote persons: thus Wa-jiji would signify people of Jiji. Washeni..... a term of contempt applied to the natives. Yambo..... "How are you?" Ziwa ..... a pool, or lake, Ziwari..... a pond. APPENDIX. List of Camps from Bagamoyo to Ujiji and back to the Sea. THROUGH UKWERE, UKAMI, AND UDOE TO USEGUHHA. From Bagamoyo to-- h. m. Shamba Gonera... 1 30 Kikoka..... 3 40 Rosako..... 5 0 Kingaru.... 6 0 Imbiki..... 4 30 Msuwa..... 4 30 From Msuwa to-- h. m. Kisemo..... 4 30 Mussoudi.... 4 20 Mikeseh.... 7 0 Muhalleh.... 6 45 Simbamwenni... 3 0 TO UGOGO. USEGUHA, Ungerengeri River to-- h. m Simbo..... 2 0 Camp in plain... 4 10 Makata River... 2 30 USAGARA. Camp west of Makata. 0 5 Camp in plain... 4 30 Camp " "... 2 0 Rehenneko.... 3 15 Rehenneko to-- h. m. Camp on mountain.. 3 30 Kiora..... 3 40 Camp on river... 4 50 Madete..... 2 30 Lake Ugombo.... 3 0 Matamombo.... 6 0 Mpwapwa..... 7 0 Kisokweh.... 2 0 Chunyo..... 1 30 FROM UGOGO TO UNYANYEMBE, From Marenga Mkali to--h. m. Mvumi, Little Ugogo 12 30 Mvumi, Great Ugogo 4 0 Matamburu " ". 4 0 Bihawana " ". 4 0 Kididimo " ". 2 0 Pembera Pereh ". 10 0 Mizanza " ". 5 30 Mukondoku " ". 6 30 Munieka " ". 5 0 Mabunguru Mtoni. Uyanzi 8 0 Kiti, Uyanzi... 6 30 Msalalo.... 6 30 From Msalalo to-- h. m. Welled Ngaraiso.. 3 30 Kusuri..... 3 15 Mgongo Tembo... 3 30 " " Mtoni. 3 30 Nghwhalah Mtoni.. 2 40 Madedita ... 2 30 Central Tura, Unyam- wezi.... 3 0 Kwala River... 7 0 Rubuga.... 7 15 Kigwa .... 5 0 Shiza .... 7 0 Kwihara.... 3 0 UNYANYEMBE TO MRERA, UKONONG0. UNYAMWEZI. From Kwihara to-- h. m. Mkwenkwe... 1 30 Inesuka ... 2 0 Kasegera... 3 0 Kigandu ... 2 45 Ugunda ... 7 0 Benta ... 3 15 Kikuru ... 5 0 Ziwani ... 4 0 Manyara ... 6 30 UKONONG0. From Manyara to-- h. m Gombe River... 4 15 Ziwani.... 5 20 Tongoni.... 1 30 Camp .... 5 15 Marefu.... 3 0 Utende.... 7 15 Mtoni.... 4 0 Mwaru.... 5 15 Mrera..... 5 13 FROM MRERA, UKONONGO TO UJIJI. UKONONGO, h. m. From Mrera to Mtoni. 4 30 Misonghi.... 4 30 Mtoni..... 6 0 Mpokwa in Utanda.. 4 45 Mtoni .... 3 0 UKAWENDI. h. m Mtambu River... 4 30 Imrera.... 4 20 Rusawa Mts.... 2 30 Mtoni .... 4 0 Mtoni .... 5 0 Camp in Forest... 6 0 Camp in Forest... 5 30 UVINZA Welled Nzogera... 2 30 Camp in Forest... 4 15 Siala [Kiala?] on the Malagarazi... 2 45 Ihata Island in the Malagarazi... 1 30 Katalambula... 1 45 UHHA Kawanga in Uhha.. 5 30 Lukomo.... 1 0 Kahirigi.... 4 0 Rusugi River... 5 0 Lake Musunya... 4 0 Rugufu River... 4 30 Sunuzzi "... 3 0 Niamtaga Ukaranga. 9 30 UJIJI. Port of Ujiji.. 6 0 INDEX Abdul Kader, tailor of the Expedition; retirement of, Abdullah bin Nasib, Acacia Horrida, African bridges, Ali bin Salim, Ambari, Amer bin Sultan, type of an old Arab Sheikh, Amram bin Mussood, Ant-hills, remarkable, Ants, white, destructiveness of, Arabs, antipathy to, as slave-traders, in Africa, Aranselar, chief butler of the Expedition, Asmani, giant statue of; his murderous deportment, Baba (Father), term of courtesy in addressing elderly persons, Bagamoyo, French Mission Station at; life at; climate of, Bambarre, ivory depot, Bana Mikuba, the "Big Master,' Bangwe Island, Bangweolo Lake, Banyans, keen trading of; their influence on African trade, Baobab, fruit of the, Baruti, one of Speke's Faithfuls, death of, Beads as currency in the Interior, Bees, attack of, on the caravan, Bemba, wooded hills of, Bennet, Mr. James Gordon; generous act of, in respect to Dr. Livingstone's letters, Benta forest, Bihawana, Bikari, cluster of villages, "Bombay," or Mombay, Bomboma's village, Borassus flabelliformis, or Palmyra palm, Brooks, Dr., Buffalo gnats, ----herd, Bunder Salaam, cook of the Expedition, Burial ceremonies, Burton, Capt., experience of Bunyans, Bustard, Cazembe, King; his Queen and her Amazons, Chamati Hill, Chambezi, drainage of, Chambezi, Livingstone's difficulty about the, "Charley's" lodging-house at Zanzibar, kindly spirit of its landlord, Chowpereh, Mgwana soldier,, Christie, Dr., physician to Seyd Burghash Chufwa fly, Chuma, Dr. Livingstone's servant, Cloth as currency in the interior, Comorines, Corn-grinding women of Kisemo, Crocodile, narrow escape of author from, 'Daily Telegraph,' representative of, at Aden, Dawson, Lieut., visit from, conversation as to his resigning command of the Search Expedition Dhows, Dilima Peaks, Dogara, or whitebait, Donkeys, equipment of; fine breed of, in Ubanarama, "Dowa," medicine, Earwigs, plague of, at Mpwapwa, Elephantiasis common in Zanzibar, Elephants, herd of; difficulty of shooting, Emancipation Proclamation of Ahraham Lincoln, Esau, Jemadar, Farquhar, W. L.; his death; account of, Faulkner, Mr., incredible statements of, Ferajji, Fire-arms, what most suitable to the traveller Fish-eagle, Forest peach, Forest scenery of Unyarnwezi, Foreign Office, letters from, Franklyn, Mr. Hales, Fraser, Capt., Freiligrath's description of the lion's habitat, French Mlissionaries, practical character of; Mission Station at Bagamoyo, Giraffes, difficulty of killing, Glossina mortisans, or tsetse fly Goma Pass; Granville, Lord, letter from, conveying the thanks of Queen Victoria and the announcement of the Royal present, Goodhue, Mr., or "Bana Mkuba." Haematite, Half-castes, contemptible character Halimah, Dr. Livingstone's cook, Hassan, the Mseguhha, Henn Lieut, his meeting with the author; resigns the leadership Herembe, Cape, Herodotus, his account of the Nile sources, Hindis, Mohammedan, cheating character of, Hippopotami Honey-bird; habits of, Honga, or tribute, Hosmer, Dr., Hunters Paradise, the, Hyaenas, Ibrahim bin Rashid slain, Ihata Island, Imbiki, Itage village, Jako, employe of the Expedition, Jesuit Mission at Pagamoyo, Jiweh la Singa district, Johari, dragoman, Jumah, Jungle of Msuwa, its horrors, Kabogi, Cape, Kabogo Mountain, singular phenomenon of, Kadetamare, or Misonghi, village,. Kahirigi, boma of, Kaif-Halek or "How-do-ye-do," the letter carrier, Kalulu, the boy-slave, Kamolondo Lake, Kanengi River, Kaniyaga village Kanjee, Kanyamabengu River, Kanyenyi, Kayeh, a myth, Kasera ridge, Katanga, copper mines of, Katangara Islands, Kavimba, Khamis bin Abdullah; his death, Khamisi, desertion of; his narrow escape; flogged for desertion; precis of character, Khonze, remarkable globes of foliage at Kiala, chief, Kigoma Bay, Kigonda, chief, Kigwena River, Kikoka village, Kikuma River, Kingari River, ---- Valley, Kingaru village Kingwere, the canoe paddler Kiora village,; Peak Kirindo, chief, Kirurumo village, Kisabengo, chief, a minor Theodore, Kisemo village; belles of, Kisuka village, Kisunwe River, Kitanda or bedstead, Kitii defile, Kitunda Cape, Kiwyeh, Sultan of; village, Kiwrima Valley, Kolquall or candelabra tree, Kudu, Kukumba Point, Kulabi, Kusuri or Konsuli, Kwala Mtoni, Kwikuru, Lares and Penates of the Wazavira, Leukole's account of Farquhar's death, Liemba, Lake, Lincoln, Abraham, lake named after, by Livingstone, Lion and leopard, home of the; Freiligrath's description of, Liuche, valley of the, Livingstone, Dr., the author's first interview with, at Ujiji; his anxiety for news; the low ebb of his resources; his early rising; took the author for an emissary of the French Government; his hard fare; his suffering and privations; revival of his enthusiasm; his guileless character; his physical appearance,; absurd report of his marriage, his general character and careful observations; sensitiveness of criticism; amiable traits of his character, and his Spartan heroism; his high spirits, inexhaustible humour, and retentive memory; sincerity of his religion; ability to withstand the African climate, due to his temperate life; his determination to complete his task, spite of all difficulties, completeness of his discoveries; summary of his experiences; interview with King Cazembe; difficulty as to the Chambezi; discovery of Lake Liemba; investigation of the Luapula; intervention in behalf of Mahomed bin Sali repaid by base ingratitude; exploration of Uguhha; sufferings at Bambarre, discovery of the Lualaba, description of the beauties of Moero scenery; admiration of Abraham Lincoln; his belief that the Lualaba or Webb's River is the true Nile; his admission that the Nile sources have not been found; his opinion as to the account of Herodotus; thwarted by the cowardice of his men; return to Ujiji; dishonesty of Sherif; destitute condition of the Doctor, his complaint of the Zanzibar people not sending him freemen; improvement of his health from more generous diet, contemplated cruise on the Tanganika; start from Ujiji; liability to dysentery; manner of dealing with demands for honga; loss of stores, &c., from Bombay's intoxication his unwillingness to retaliate on the hostile natives, his tenderness in sickness, disturbed in bed by his servant Susi in a state of intoxication; his opinion that the Tanganika must have an outlet; names the Kavunvweh islands the "New York Herald Islets,"; his coolness at the hostility of the Wasansi, calms them down by his gentle bearing and conversation; his resolve to finish his task,; complaint of Dr. Kirk's sending only slaves; resolves to accompany the author to Unyanyembe; his sufferings on the road; at Mpokwa's village,; his value as a travelling companion; stung by wild bees; his qualifications as a traveller, peaceful recollections of his wife's grave, his relation of incidents of the life of his son Robert; arrival at Ugundo, letters from Dr. Kirk and home; welcome to Unyanyembe; in comfortable quarters and in possession of stores; wreck of the stores detained by Sayd bin Salim; in possession of four years' store of supplies; his letter to Mr. Bennett, jun.; probable results of his perseverance in African discovery; his last day with the author; his intentions as to the future; the parting farewell, Livingstone, Mr. Oswell, introduction to; equipment of his proposed expedition; determines to resign, Livingstone, Robert Moffatt, incidents of his life, Lizard, large, Loeki or Lomani River, Lualaba or "Webb's River" of Livingstone; thought by him to be the true Nile, Luapula River, Lubilash River, Ludha Damji, Lufira River, Luhanga Peak, Lukomo village, Luvumba Cape, Mabruki, cruel treatment of; Mabunguru Nullah, Madedita, Magala, Mutware of, Maganga, Magunda Mkali, Mahommed bin Sali, his release by Livingstone and subsequent ingratitude, Maizun, Mons., Makata Valley; River; Plain, Makumbi, chief, Malagash, Inlet, Malagarazi River, Manyuema country, people of; the El Dorado of the Arabs; sought as slaves, Maganga, Marefu, Marenga Mkali, Masangi, Masika, or rainy season, Matamombo, Mazitu, marauding propensities of, Mbawala, species of antelope, Mbembu, or forest peach, Mdaburu River, Medicine for daubing warriors, Mfuto, Eastern, Mgongo Tembo, or "Elephant's Back," Mgwana, Mikiseh, Mionvu, Mutware of Kimenyi, Mirambo; defeated at Mfuto, Misonghi, deserted village, Mizanza, Mkuti River, Mkuyu, gigantic sycamore, Moero Lake; beauty of the scenery, Mohammed bin Abdulla slain, Mohammed bin Gharib, Monkeys, troop of, Morris, Hon. E. J., Mpokwa River, Mponda, chief, Mpwapwh, its fruitfulness; Mountains, Mrera, chief, ---, warriors of, Msuwa, Mtemi, chief, Mud-fish, Mugere River, Mugeyo village, Mugihewa territory, Mukamba, chief, Mukondoku, chief, Mukondokwa Range; Pass; River, Mukungu, Mukunguru, African intermittent fever, Munieka, Muniyi Usagara, Murembwe Cape; Point, Musa, chief of the Johanna men, Muscat Arabs of Zanzibar, Mussoudi, the Diwan's account of an extraordinary flood, Musunya Lake, Muzimu Island, Mvumi village, Mwaru, Myombo tree, Mussoud bin Abdhullah, Mussoudi; beautiful prospect at, "Nazi-Moya" at Zanzibar, Negroes of Zanzibar; character of, New, Rev. Charles, introduction to, "New York Herald" Islets, Ngaraiso village, Nghwhalah River, Nguru Peak, Niamtaga, Niasanga village, Niongo, Nondo, Spoke's runaway, Nyabigma Island, Nyambwa, Nzoe, antelope of Speke, "Omar," Mr. Stanley's watchdog; death of, Pallah buck, Pembera Pereh, Sultan, Perpusilla, the, Piaggia, the Italian traveller, Pisolitic limestone, Pottery, native, of the Wazavira, Price, Simon, Dr. Livingstone's servant, Queen Victoria, letter conveying the thanks of Her Majesty and the announcement of the Royal present, Rehenneko village, Rosako village, Rua country; people, Rubeho Slopes; Peak, Rubuga, Rudewa River, Rugufu Lake, Ruhinga, chief, Rusizi River; problem of; delta of, Said bin Majid, Salim bin Rashid, Sultana of Simbamwenni, Sami-sami, red beads, Sayf, son of Ali, slain, Sayd bin Salim's house, Selim, interpreter, ----, the Arab boy, Seyd Burghash, Sultan of Zanzibar, Sitting on pombe, Sentakeyi, Cape, Shaw, J. W.; leaves the expedition, Shamba Gonera, or, "Gonera's Field," good disposition of the Indian widow towards the whites; appearance of the place, trade, &c., Sheikh Sayd bin Selim, ----- Hamed, ----- Hassid, ----- Khamis bin Abdullah, ----- bin Nasib, ----- Sulton bin Ali, ----- Thani, Sherif, Dr. Livingstone's servant; dishonesty of, Shiza, Sigunga, Simbamwenni; desolation of by flood, ----------, Sultana of, Simba, ruler of Kasera, Simbo, Simbo, Khambi, Singwe, a plum-like fruit, Slave-gang, chained, Sofi beads, Somalis; Soor Hadji Palloo, Soud, the Arab, ----, son of Sayd bin Majid, ----, bin Sayd, his attack on Wilyankura; his death, Speke, Capt., his "Faithfuls"; treatment of "Bombay" by; error of, as to altitude of Tanganika, Stanley, Mr., start from Bombay; landing at Zanzibar; hospitable reception by Capt. Webb; impressions of the city; organization of the Expedition; visit to the Sultan; departure from Zanzibar; landing at Bagamoyo; troublesome experiences; visit to the "Livingstone caravan"; preparations for departure into the interior, difficulties with employes; chase after a thief, despatch of four caravans; departure of the fifth caravan, led by himself; members composing it and outfit; the start, first camp; Shamba Gonera; crossing the Kingani; hippopotami shooting; Kikoka village; halt at Rosako; "Omar" watchdog, missing; formidable number of insects, the tsetse-fly; game hunting; difficulty of penetrating an African jungle; camp at Kingaru; the grey Arab horse, and offence given by its interment; interview with the king of Kingaru; loss of the re maiming horse from cancer; desertion and sickness; appearance of Maganga's caravan march to Imbiki; reach Msuwa, perils of the jungle, astonishment of the chief; chained slave-gang; halt at Kisemo; belle of; narrow escape of Khamisi; flogged for desertion; reach Mussoudi; beautiful prospect; cross the Ungerengeri start for Mikeseh; Ulagalla and Muhalleh; overtake Maganga's caravan; meet with Selim bin Rashid, news of Livingstone; pass town of Simbamwenni; its fortifications; curiosity of the inhabitants; two days' halt and overhaul of the luggage, attack of ague; visit of ambassadors of the Sultana of Simbamwenni; wretched encampment on the Ungerengeri; difficulty of crossing the river; Makata Valley; loss of Bombay's equipage,; difficulties of the Makata Valley; escape and capture of Kingaru; emerge from the swamp Makata, attack of dysentery, halt at Reheneko; ascent of the Usagara Mountains; Mukondokwa Valley and River; Kiora; camp at, illness of Farquhar; ford of the Mukondokwa River; Madete, Lake of Ugombe; departure from Ugombo; camp at Matamombo, death of of the dog "Omar"; Sheikh Thani in clover at Mpwapwa, a good breakfast and dinner, Farquhar left to be nursed; twelve pagazis engaged, abundance of earwigs and white ants; Chunyo, badness of the water; Marenga Mkali waterless district; attack of fever; Ugogo; frantic conduct of the population; West Mvumi; the Sultan's exorbitant demand of honda; Matamburu, reasonableness of the Sultan of; Bihiwana; attack of intermittent fever; Kididimo, bleak aspect and bad water; Nyambwa, demonstrativeness of the people; Mizanza; benefit from quinine; visit from the Sultan; Little Mukondoku; Mukondoku Proper; commotion and cowardice; uproar in the camp; debate as to route; threatened mutiny; Munieka; Mabunguru Nullah; Unyambogi; Kiti, Msalalo; Ngaraiso, Kirurumo, greeting from the villagers; interview with Sultan bin Mahommed; halt at Kusuri, and Mgongo Tembo; Nghwhalah Mtoni, abundance of sweet, water; Madedita, tsete-fly troublesome; reach Unyamwezi territory at Eastern Tura, cultivated region; Nondo, Speke's runaway; Central Tura, attempted night robbery, a thief shot dead; pass Western Tura; Kwala Mtoni, mud-fish; illness of the tailor, Abdul Kader, he wishes to give up his post; Rubuga, desolation of, since Burton's visit; meeting with Amer bin Sultan, Kigwa, wasted condition of; Shiza, pastoral aspect of, visit from the Sultan; rejoicings in camp on reaching Unyanyembe territory; life in Unyanyembe; breakfast and gossip with Sayd bin Salim; Kazeh, a myth; leave Kwikuru; in comfortable quarters; visit from the Tabora Arab magnates; Tabora, chief Arab settlement in central Africa; attend a council of war, feast at the close of the council; return to Kwihara; the Livingstone caravan's halt of 100 days; attack of fever; preparations for the march; warlike demonstration; Eastern Mfuto, illness of Shaw, personnel of the army; Umanda, medicine daubing; war harangue; Zimbizo, attack on the village; fate of Soud bin Sayd and his Arabs; retreat and stormy councils of war; further retreat of the Arabs to Tabora, serious position of the Expedition; intelligence of Livingstone; news of death of Farquhar; illness of Shaw, attack of Mirambo on Tabora; Khamis bin Abdullah, &c., slain; preparations for Mirambo's threatened attack on Kwihara; visit to Sheikh bin Nassib; retreat of Mirambo, determination to lead a flying caravan to Ujiji; apathy of Shaw, visit to Thani bin Abdullah, arrival of letters; death of Baruti, evil reports by the Arabs; present of a boy-slave; defeat of Mirambo at Mfuto; nursing experiences: farewell feast at Unyanyembe; march to Ujiji commenced by southern route; list of "braves" of the Expedition; Bombay's tender passion; the start; Shaw shows the white feather; Kinyamwezi village, attack of fever; arrest of runaways, threat of slave-chain; Inesuka, further desertions, punishment, withdrawal of Abdul Kader, the tailor; sickness in camp, adverse appearances; Kasegara, rejoicings at; Kigandu, Shaw's by-play; his withdrawal; beauty of Unyamwezi forest scenery; Ugunda; Benta; Kikuru, the mukunguru or fever; camp at Ziwani; gigantic sycamore; Manyara, cultivated region; difficulty of buying provisions; visit of Mtemi; his astonishment at the author's medicine-chest; Gombe River, its beautiful neighbourhood; narrow escape from a crocodile, suspicious-looking natives; a peaceful camp-scene; symptoms of revolt at starting onwards; murderous aspect of Asmani and Mabruki; the march- resumed; sketch of the principal men of the Expedition; Ziwani (pool), waterless condition of; Tongoni, abundance of honey-birds; Marefu, rumours of war in our front; march through a forest abounding with peach-trees; Utende village; Mwaru, supposed report of Livingstone, Mrera's district, wild elephants; Selim falls ill, start from Mrera north-westward; confidence restored in the camp, remarkable ant-hills; camp in the jungle; embassy from Simba; Uzavira, ruined neighbourhood of; Misonghi; Mpokwa River, deserted village near; Mtambu stream, its beauty; attack by a leopard; shot at a wild boar; proximity of lions; Itaga village, beginning of troubles, shortness of provisions, "Welled Nzogera's" village, abundant supplies; crossing a marsh; reach the Malagarazi; heavy exaction of the chief Kiala; island of Ihata, fresh demands for ferriage; donkey seized by crocodile; Uvinza, news of Livingstone, departure from the Malagarazi; country of Uhha; halt at Kawanga; halt on the Pombwe stream, interview with Mionvu; exorbitant demand of honga; cross the Kanengi River; more claims of honga; departure by stealth; Kanengi River; cross the Rusugi; Lake Musunya, Rugufu River, Kabogo Mountain, singular phenomenon of; Sunuzzi River; enter Ukaranga; beauty of the landscape; Mkute River, Niamtaga, alarm of the people; first view of the Tanganika, Port of Ujiji in view; salute announcing the approach of the caravan; meeting with Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone; excitement of the inhabitants; appearance of the Doctor; the introduction; conversation; the over-due letter-bag, 365 days from Zanzibar; budget of news; intercourse with Livingstone; suggestions as to his future course; start with Livingstone for cruise on the Tanganika; pass Bangwe Island; wooded hills of Bemba; camp at Niasanga; Nyabigma Island; Mukungu; loss of valuables from Bombay's intoxication; hostile demonstrations of the Bikari people; bivouac on the shore disturbed by natives; round Cape Sentakeyi, and sleep at Mugeyo; Magala, hospitality of the people, visit of the Mutware of; rumours of wars; Kisiku, native report as to the Rusizi River; Mugere, delta of the; visit Mukamba, attacked by fever and experience Livingstone's tenderness; Susi's drunken fit; Mugihewa territory on the delta of the Rusizi; visit of the chief Ruhinga, his geographical information; exploration of the Rusizi debouchure: Kukubma Point, enchanting scenery near; halt at Bemba, superstition of the Wajiji; 'New York Herald Islets,' so named by Livingstone; Cape Luvumba hostile aspect of the Wasansi, return to Ujiji, domestic and foreign news; at home with Livingstone; preparations for march to Unyanyembe; attack of fever; Christmas-day at Ujiji; the departure; meet with Mohammed bin Gharib; Sirgunga, beautiful aspect of; sport at Urimba; homeward bound; an elephant herd; Ukawendi, luxuriance of its vegetation; painful march to Imrera; a giraffe shot; severe attack of fever, the Doctor's prescription; the caravan attacked by bees; Mrera, meeting with caravan sent by Sayd bin Habid, exchange of news, encounter a lion; Ugunda, the deserter Hamdallah retaken; receipt of letters and newspapers; welcome to Unyanyembe; stores found tampered with; a second Christmas celebration, four years' stores of supplies turned over to the Doctor, commission to enlist at Zanzibar fifty freemen as his carriers; farewell dance of natives; choragic adieu of the Wanyamwezi; last night with Livingstone; the last walk in his company, the farewell; a letter from the Doctor; Ngaraiso, hostility of the Wakimbu, enter Ugogo; warlike demonstrations, march of warriors arrayed for the fight; Khonze, its gigantic tree-foliage; determined mode of dealing with the chief successfull; Kanyenyi, cordial reception by the Msagira of; Mapanga, hostile demonstration; asked to act as rain-maker; Kulabi, suffer from a "peppo"; Marenga Mkali; Mpwapwa, death of Farquhar; Mukondokwa valley, experience of the Masika; Makata plain, battling with the floods; Mvumi village, fighting with mosquitoes; the Doctor's despatches in danger; a perilous ford; ten days' camp at Rehenneko, difficulties of the march to the Makata River; arrive at Simbo, cross the Unkerengere, and reach Simbamwenni, its desolated aspect; Ulagalla, extraordinary devastation by flood; Msuwa, horrors of its jungle; Kingaru Hera, news of the Zanzibar storm; Rosako, welcome consignment from the American Consul; ill-natured criticisms, information as to the "Livingstone Search and Relief Expedition"; Ringweare's ferry, a watery waste, four miles broad; welcome to Bagamoyo; meeting with Lieut. Henn; introduction to Mr. Oswell Livingstone; the march ended; welcome at Zanzibar, the American Consul and Rev. C. New; congratulation of Lieut. Dawson; discussion as to his resignation; visit from Dr. Kirk and Bishop Tozer, change in the author's appearance on his return; preparations for Mr. O. Livingstone's Expedition, his resignation, selection of an Arab leader, farewell to old travelling companions; departure from Zanzibar in the 'Africa'; reach Seychelles, a month's delay at Mahe, agreeable intercourse; reach England via Aden and Marseilles. Sultan bin Mohammed, Sultan of Zanzibar, Mr. Stanley's interview with, Sunuzzi stream, Susi, Dr. Livingstone's servant, Swaruru, Sultan, Sycamore, gigantic, Tabora, Tagamoyo, massacre of the Wamanyuema by, Tanganika Lake, first visit to; cruise on, with Dr. Livingstone, Tarya Topan, integrity of Thani bin Abdullah,, Tongoni, deserted clearing, Tozer, Bp., his residence at Zanzibar; his congratulations at the author's success, Trade, mode of conducting, in Africa, Tsetse fly, Tura, Eastern; Central,; Western or Tura Perro; Udoe, cones of, "Uganga," or charm, Ugombo, Lake; Peak, Plain, Ugunda village, Uhha, king of, Ujiji, port of, Ukaranga territory, its beautiful aspect, Ukawendi country, scenery of, Ulagalla district, Ulimengo, absconding slave, Unamapokera, friendliness of, Ungerengeri River; Valley, Urundi Mountains, Unyamwezi forest scenery, beauty of; territory, Unyambogi, Urimba, camp at, Usagara Mountains, Utende village, Uwelasia River, Uyanzi, Magunda Mkali; or "Hot Field," Uyoweh, Mirambo of, Uzavira, village in, Waganga, or medicine men; filthy war-potion, concocted by, Wagogo tribe, villages of, Wagtails regarded as birds of good omen, Waguhha tribe, Wagunda tribe, Wahumba tribe, Wajiji tribe, Wakimbu of Tura, rascality of, ------- tribe; villages of, Wakonongo, Wamanyuema, fondness of, for marketing, Wangwana village, ------- tribe, gormandizing of the, Wanyamwezi tribe, their superstitious aversion to antelope meat, War, council of, at Tabora, Warfare, tame mode of conducting, Wa-Ruga-Ruga, Wasawahili tribe, Wasansi tribe, Waseguhha tribe, Washenshi tribe, Wasungu tribe, Wavinza tribe, greed of Wavira tribe, Webb, Capt. F. R., U.S. Consul, his hospitality and courtesy, ----, Mr. of Newstead Abbey, river named after him, ----, Mrs., Wagogo, cool impudence of the, Wilderness, African, more favourable to the traveller than the populated country, Wild-boar shooting, Wilyankuru, attack on, Wire, high valve of, in the interior, Zanzibar city view of, from the bay, harbor "Charley's" lodging house,; character of the street and population, trade, "M'nazi Moya"; house of Bishop Tozer, mart of the interior, mode of commerce unchanged for ages; population; filth and unhealthiness of; inertness induced by climate of; Palace of the Sultan, ----- Island; its aspect from the sea, Zassi River and village, Zebra, Zimbizo, attack on the village, Zimmerman on the benefit of an unencumbered mind, Ziwo, or pond, Ziwani (pool), Zogga, palm toddy, 
43654	----	produced from images generously made available by the Posner Memorial Collection (http://posner.library.cmu.edu/Posner/)) IN DARKEST AFRICA OR THE QUEST, RESCUE, AND RETREAT OF EMIN GOVERNOR OF EQUATORIA BY HENRY M. STANLEY WITH TWO STEEL ENGRAVINGS, AND ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS IN TWO VOLUMES Vol. I "I will not cease to go forward until I come to the place where the two seas meet, though I travel ninety years."--Koran, chap, xviii., v. 62. NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1890 [_All rights reserved_] Copyright, 1890, by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Press of J. J. Little & Co., Astor Place, New York. CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. ------ Page Prefatory Letter to Sir William Mackinnon, Chairman of the Emin Pasha relief expedition 1 CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. The Khedive and the Soudan--Arabi Pasha--Hicks Pasha's defeat--The Mahdi --Sir Evelyn Baring and Lord Granville on the Soudan--Valentine Baker Pasha--General Gordon: his work in the Upper Soudan--Edward Schnitzler (or Emin Effendi Hakim) and his Province--General Gordon at Khartoum: and account of the Relief Expedition in 1884 under Lord Wolseley--Mr. A. M. Mackay, the missionary in Uganda--Letters from Emin Bey to Mr. Mackay, Mr. C. H. Allen, and Dr. R. W. Felkin, relating to his Province--Mr. F. Holmwood's and Mr. A. M. Mackay's views on the proposed relief of Emin--Suggested routes for the Emin Relief Expedition--Sir Wm. Mackinnon and Mr. J. F. Hutton--The Relief Fund and preparatory details of the Expedition--Colonel Sir Francis De Winton--Selection of officers for the Expedition--King Leopold and the Congo Route--Departure for Egypt 11 CHAPTER II. EGYPT AND ZANZIBAR. Surgeon T. H. Parke--Views of Sir Evelyn Baring, Nubar Pasha, Professor Schweinfurth and Dr. Junker on the Emin Relief Expedition--Details relating to Emin Pasha and his Province--General Grenfell and the ammunition--Breakfast with Khedive Tewfik: message to Emin Pasha--Departure for Zanzibar--Description of Mombasa town--Visit to the Sultan of Zanzibar--Letter to Emin Pasha sent by messenger through Uganda--Arrangements with Tippu-Tib--Emin Pasha's Ivory--Mr. MacKenzie, Sir John Pender, and Sir James Anderson's assistance to the Relief Expedition 49 CHAPTER III. BY SEA TO THE CONGO RIVER. The Sultan of Zanzibar--Tippu-Tib and Stanley Falls--On board s.s. _Madura_--"Shindy" between the Zanzibaris and Soudanese--Sketches of my various Officers--Tippu-Tib and Cape Town--Arrival at the mouth of the Congo River--Start up the Congo--Visit from two of the Executive Committee of the Congo State--Unpleasant thoughts 67 CHAPTER IV. TO STANLEY POOL. Details of the journey to Stanley Pool--The Soudanese and the Somalis--Meeting with Mr. Herbert Ward--Camp at Congo la Lemba--Kindly entertained by Mr. and Mrs. Richards--Letters from up river--Letters to the Rev. Mr. Bentley and others for assistance--Arrival at Mwembi--Necessity of enforcing discipline--March to Vombo--Incident at Lukungu Station--The Zanzibaris--Incident between Jephson and Salim at the Inkissi River--A series of complaints--The Rev. Mr. Bentley and the steamer _Peace_--We reach Makoko's village--Leopoldville--Difficulties regarding the use of the Mission steamers--Monsieur Liebrichts sees Mr. Billington--Visit to Mr. Swinburne at Kinshassa--Orders to, and duties of, the officers 79 CHAPTER V. FROM STANLEY POOL TO YAMBUYA. Upper Congo scenery--Accident to the _Peace_--Steamers reach Kimpoko--Collecting fuel--The good-for-nothing _Peace_--The _Stanley_ in trouble--Arrival at Bolobo--The Relief Expedition arranged in two columns--Major Barttelot and Mr. Jameson chosen for command of Rear Column--Arrival at Equator and Bangala Stations--The Basoko villages: Baruti deserts us--Arrival at Yambuya 99 CHAPTER VI. AT YAMBUYA. We land at Yambuya villages--The _Stanley_ leaves for Equator Station--Fears regarding Major Barttelot and the _Henry Reed_--Safe arrival--Instructions to Major Barttelot and Mr. Jameson respecting the Rear Column--Major Barttelot's doubts as to Tippu-Tib's good faith--A long conversation with Major Barttelot--Memorandum for the officers of the Advance Column--Illness of Lieutenant Stairs--Last night at Yambuya: statements as to our forces and accoutrements 111 CHAPTER VII. TO PANGA FALLS. An African road--Our mode of travelling through the forests--Farewell to Jameson and the Major--160 days in the forest--The Rapids of Yambuya--Attacked by natives of Yankonde--Rest at the village of Bahunga--Description of our march--The poisoned Skewers--Capture of six Babali--Dr. Parke and the bees--A tempest in the forest--Mr. Jephson puts the steel boat together--The village of Bukanda--Refuse heaps of the villages--The Aruwimi river scenery--Villages of the Bakuti and the Bakoka--The Rapids of Gwengweré--The boy Bakula-Our "chop and coffee"--The islands near Bandangi--The Baburu dwarfs--The unknown course of the river--The Somalis--Bartering at Mariri and Mupé--The Aruwimi at Mupé--The Babé manners, customs, and dress--Jephson's two adventures--Wasp Rapids--The chief of the Bwamburi--Our camp at My-yui--Canoe accident--An abandoned village--Arrival at Panga Falls--Description of the Falls 134 CHAPTER VIII. FROM TANGA FALLS TO UGARROWWA'S. Another accident at the Rapids--The village of Utiri--Avisibba settlement--Enquiry into a murder case at Avisibba--Surprised by the natives--Lieutenant Stairs wounded--We hunt up the enemy--The poisoned arrows--Indifference of the Zanzibaris--Jephson's caravan missing--Our wounded--Perpetual rain--Deaths of Khalfan, Saadi, and others--Arrival of caravan--The Mabengu Rapids--Mustering the people--The Nepoko river--Remarks by Binza--Our food supply--Reckless use of ammunition--Half-way to the Albert Lake--We fall in with some of Ugarrowwa's men--Absconders--We camp at Hippo Broads and Avakubi Rapids--The destroyed settlement of Navabi--Elephants at Memberri--More desertions--The Arab leader, Ugarrowwa--He gives us information--Visit to the Arab settlement--First specimen of the tribe of dwarfs--Arrangements with Ugarrowwa 171 CHAPTER IX. UGARROWWA'S TO KILONGA-LONGA'S. Ugarrowwa sends us three Zanzibari deserters--We make an example--The 'Express' rifles--Conversation with Rashid--The Lenda river--Troublesome rapids--Scarcity of food--Some of Kilonga-Longa's followers--Meeting of the rivers Ihuru and Ituri--State and numbers of the Expedition--Illness of Captain Nelson--We send couriers ahead to Kilonga-Longa's--The sick encampment--Randy and the guinea fowl--Scarcity of food--Illness caused by the forest pears--Fanciful menus--More desertions--Asmani drowned--Our condition in brief--Uledi's suggestion--Umari's climb--My donkey is shot for food--We strike the track of the Manyuema and arrive at their village 211 CHAPTER X. WITH THE MANYUEMA AT IPOTO. The ivory hunters at Ipoto--Their mode of proceeding--The Manyuema headmen and their raids--Remedy for preventing wholesale devastations--Crusade preached by Cardinal Lavigerie--Our Zanzibar chiefs--Anxiety respecting Captain Nelson and his followers--Our men sell their weapons for food--Theft of rifles--Their return demanded--Uledi turns up with news of the missing chiefs--Contract drawn up with the Manyuema headmen for the relief of Captain Nelson--Jephson's report on his journey--Reports of Captain Nelson and Surgeon Parke--The process of blood brotherhood between myself and Ismaili--We leave Ipoto 236 CHAPTER XI. THROUGH THE FOREST TO MAZAMBONI'S PEAK. In the country of the Balessé--Their houses and clearings--Natives of Bukiri--The first village of dwarfs--Our rate of progress increased--The road from Mambungu's--Halts at East and West Indékaru--A little storm between "Three o'clock" and Khamis--We reach Ibwiri--Khamis and the "vile Zanzibaris"--The Ibwiri clearing--Plentiful provisions--The state of my men; and what they had recently gone through--Khamis and party explore the neighbourhood--And return with a flock of goats--Khamis captures Boryo, but is released--Jephson returns from the relief of Captain Nelson--Departure of Khamis and the Manyuema--Memorandum of charges against Messrs. Kilonga-Longa & Co. of Ipoto--Suicide of Simba--Sali's reflections on the same--Lieutenant Stairs reconnoitres--Muster and reorganisation at Ibwiri--Improved condition of the men--Boryo's village--Balessé customs--East Indenduru--We reach the outskirts of the forest--Mount Pisgah--The village of Iyugu--Heaven's light at last; the beautiful grass-land--We drop across an ancient crone--Indésura and its products--Juma's capture--The Ituri river again--We emerge upon a rolling plain--And forage in some villages--The mode of hut construction--The district of the Babusessé--Our Mbiri captives--Natives attack the camp--The course of the Ituri--The natives of Abunguma--Our fare since leaving Ibwiri--Mazamboni's Peak--The east Ituri--A mass of plantations--Demonstration by the natives--Our camp on the crest of Nzera Kum--"Be strong and of a good courage"--Friendly intercourse with the natives--We are compelled to disperse them--Peace arranged--Arms of the Bandussuma 255 CHAPTER XII. ARRIVAL AT LAKE ALBERT AND OUR RETURN TO IBWIRI. We are further annoyed by the natives--Their villages fired--Gavira's village--We keep the natives at bay--Plateau of Unyoro in view--Night attack by the natives--The village of Katonza's--Parley with the natives--No news of the Pasha--Our supply of cartridges--We consider our position--Lieutenant Stairs converses with the people of Kasenya Island--The only sensible course left us--Again attacked by natives--Scenery on the lake's shore--We climb a mountain--A rich discovery of grain--The rich valley of Undussuma--Our return journey to Ibwiri--The construction of Fort Bodo 319 CHAPTER XIII. LIFE AT FORT BODO. Our impending duties--The stockade of Fort Bodo--Instructions to Lieutenant Stairs--His departure for Kilonga-Longa's--Pested by rats, mosquitoes, &c.--Nights disturbed by the lemur--Armies of red ants--Snakes in tropical Africa--Hoisting the Egyptian flag--Arrival of Surgeon Parke and Captain Nelson from Ipoto--Report of their stay with the Manyuema--Lieutenant Stairs arrives with the steel boat--We determine to push on to the Lake at once--Volunteers to convey letters to Major Barttelot--Illness of myself and Captain Nelson--Uledi captures a Queen of the Pigmies--Our fields of corn--Life at Fort Bodo--We again set out for the Nyanza 350 CHAPTER XIV. TO THE ALBERT NYANZA A SECOND TIME. Difficulties with the steel boat--African forest craft--Splendid capture of pigmies, and description of the same--We cross the Ituri River--Dr. Parke's delight on leaving the forest--Camp at Bessé--Zanzibari wit--At Nzera-Kum Hill once more--Intercourse with the natives--"Malleju," or the "Bearded One," being first news of Emin--Visit from chief Mazamboni and his followers--Jephson goes through the form of friendship with Mazamboni--The medicine men, Nestor and Murabo--The tribes of the Congo--Visit from chief Gavira--A Mhuma chief--The Bavira and Wahuma races--The varying African features--Friendship with Mpinga--Gavira and the looking-glass--Exposed Uzanza--We reach Kavalli--The chief produces "Malleju's" letter--Emin's letter--Jephson and Parke convey the steel boat to the lake--Copy of letter sent by me to Emin through Jephson--Friendly visits from natives 373 CHAPTER XV. THE MEETING WITH EMIN PASHA. Our camp at Bundi--Mbiassi, the chief of Kavalli--The Balegga granaries--Chiefs Katonza and Komubi express contrition--The kites at Badzwa--A note from Jephson--Emin, Casati and Jephson walk into our camp at old Kavalli--Descriptions of Emin Pasha and Captain Casati--The Pasha's Soudanese--Our Zanzibaris--The steamer _Khedive_--Baker and the Blue Mountains--Drs. Junker and Felkin's descriptions of Emin--Proximity of Kabba Rega--Emin and the Equatorial Provinces--Dr. Junker's report of Emin--I discuss with Emin our future proceedings--Captain Casati's plans--Our camp and provisions at Nsabé--Kabba Rega's treatment of Captain Casati and Mohammed Biri--Mabruki gored by a buffalo--Emin Pasha and his soldiers--My propositions to Emin and his answer--Emin's position--Mahomet Achmet--The Congo State--The Foreign Office despatches 393 CHAPTER XVI. WITH THE PASHA--_continued_. Fortified stations in the Province--Storms at Nsabé--A nest of young crocodiles--Lake Ibrahim--Zanzibari raid on Balegga villages--Dr. Parke goes in search of the two missing men--The Zanzibaris again--A real tornado--The Pasha's gifts to us--Introduced to Emin's officers--Emin's cattle forays--The _Khedive_ departs for Mswa station--Mabruki and his wages--The Pasha and the use of the sextant--Departure of local chiefs--Arrival of the _Khedive_ and _Nyanza_ steamers with soldiers--Made arrangements to return in search of the rear-column--My message to the troops--Our Badzwa road--A farewell dance by the Zanzibaris--The Madi carriers' disappearance--First sight of Ruwenzori--Former circumnavigators of the Albert Lake--Lofty twin-peak mountain near the East Ituri River--Aid for Emin against Kabba Rega--Two letters from Emin Pasha--We are informed of an intended attack on us by chiefs Kadongo and Musiri--Fresh Madi carriers--We attack Kadongo's camp--With assistance from Mazamboni and Gavira we march on Musiri's camp which turns out to be deserted--A phalanx dance by Mazamboni's warriors--Music on the African Continent--Camp at Nzera-kum Hill--Presents from various chiefs--Chief Musiri wishes for peace 418 CHAPTER XVII. PERSONAL TO THE PASHA. Age and early days of Emin Pasha--Gordon and the pay of Emin Pasha--Last interview with Gordon Pasha in 1877--Emin's last supply of ammunition and provisions--Five years' isolation--Mackay's library in Uganda--Emin's abilities and fitness for his position--His linguistic and other attainments--Emin's industry--His neat journals--Story related to me by Shukri Agha referring to Emin's escape from Kirri to Mswa--Emin confirms the story--Some natural history facts related to me by Emin--The Pasha and the Dinka tribe--A lion story--Emin and "bird studies" 422 CHAPTER XVIII. START FOR THE RELIEF OF THE REAR COLUMN. Escorted by various tribes to Mukangi--Camp at Ukuba village--Arrival at Fort Bodo--Our invalids in Ugarrowwa's care--Lieut. Stairs' report on his visit to bring up the invalids to Fort Bodo--Night visits by the malicious dwarfs--A general muster of the garrison--I decide to conduct the Relief force in person--Captain Nelson's ill-health--My little fox-terrier "Randy"--Description of the fort--The Zanzibaris--Estimated time to perform the journey to Yambuya and back--Lieut. Stairs' suggestion about the steamer _Stanley_--Conversation with Lieut. Stairs in reference to Major Barttelot and the Rear Column--Letter of instructions to Lieut. Stairs 452 CHAPTER XIX. ARRIVAL AT BANALYA: BARTTELOT DEAD! The Relief Force--The difficulties of marching--We reach Ipoto--Kilonga Longa apologises for the behaviour of his Manyuema--The chief returns us some of our rifles--Dr. Parke and fourteen men return to Fort Bodo--Ferrying across the Ituri River--Indications of some of our old camps--We unearth our buried stores--The Manyuema escort--Bridging the Lenda River--The famished Madi--Accidents and deaths among the Zanzibaris and Madi--My little fox-terrier "Randy"--The vast clearing of Ujangwa--Native women guides--We reach Ugarrowwa's abandoned station--Welcome food at Amiri Falls--Navabi Falls--Halt at Avamburi landing-place--Death of a Madi chief--Our buried stores near Basopo unearthed and stolen--Juma and Nassib wander away from the Column--The evils of forest marching--Conversation between my tent-boy, Sali, and a Zanzibari--Numerous bats at Mabengu village--We reach Avisibba, and find a young Zanzibari girl--Nejambi Rapids and Panga Falls--The natives of Panga--At Mugwye's we disturb an intended feast--We overtake Ugarrowwa at Wasp Rapids and find our couriers and some deserters in his camp--The head courier relates his tragic story--Amusing letter from Dr. Parke to Major Barttelot--Progress of our canoe flotilla down the river--The Batundu natives--Our progress since leaving the Nyanza--Thoughts about the Rear Column--Desolation along the banks of the river--We reach Banalya--Meeting with Bonny--The Major is dead--Banalya Camp 468 CHAPTER XX. THE SAD STORY OF THE REAR COLUMN. Tippu-Tib--Major E. M. Barttelot--Mr. J. S. Jameson--Mr. Herbert Ward--Messrs. Troup and Bonny--Major Barttelot's Report on the doings of the Rear Column--Conversation with Mr. Bonny--Major Barttelot's letter to Mr. Bonny--Facts gleaned from the written narrative of Mr. Wm. Bonny--Mr. Ward detained at Bangala--Repeated visits of the Major to Stanley Falls--Murder of Major Barttelot--Bonny's account of the murder--The assassin Sanga is punished--Jameson dies of fever at Bangala Station--Meeting of the advance and rear columns--Dreadful state of the camp--Tippu-Tib and Major Barttelot--Mr. Jameson--Mr. Herbert Ward's report 498 ----------------------- APPENDIX. Copy of Log of Rear Column 527 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. VOLUME I. _STEEL ENGRAVING._ PORTRAIT OF HENRY M. STANLEY _Frontispiece_ (From a Photograph by Elliot & Fry, 1886.) _FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS_ Facing page GROUP--MR. STANLEY AND HIS OFFICERS. 1 THE STEEL BOAT "ADVANCE" 80 IN THE NIGHT AND RAIN IN THE FOREST 146 THE FIGHT WITH THE AVISIBBA CANNIBALS 174 THE RIVER COLUMN ASCENDING THE ARUWIMI RIVER WITH THE "ADVANCE" AND SIXTEEN CANOES. 184 WOODEN ARROWS OF THE AVISIBBA 180 "THE PASHA IS COMING" 196 THE RELIEF OF NELSON AND SURVIVORS AT STARVATION CAMP 250 GYMNASTICS IN A FOREST CLEARING 258 IYUGU; A CALL TO ARMS 286 EMERGING FROM THE FOREST 292 FIRST EXPERIENCES WITH MAZAMBONI'S PEOPLE. VIEW FROM NZERA KUM HILL 306 THE SOUTH END OF THE ALBERT NYANZA, DEC. 13, 1887 324 SKETCH-MAP: "RETURN TO UGARROWA'S." BY LIEUTENANT STAIRS 365 EMIN AND CASATI ARRIVE AT LAKE SHORE CAMP 396 A PHALANX DANCE BY MAZAMBONI'S WARRIORS 438 MEETING WITH THE REAR COLUMN AT BANALYA 494 _OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS_ PORTRAIT OF EMIN PASHA 18 " CAPTAIN NELSON 39 " LIEUTENANT STAIRS 40 " WILLIAM BONNY 41 " A. J. MOUNTENEY JEPHSON 42 " SURGEON PARKE, A. M. D. 50 " NUBAR PASHA 51 " THE KHEDIVE TEWFIK 55 " TIPPU-TIB 68 MAXIM AUTOMATIC GUN 83 LAUNCHING THE STEAMER "FLORIDA" 96 STANLEY POOL 100 BARUTI FINDS HIS BROTHER 109 A TYPICAL VILLAGE ON THE LOWER ARUWIMI 112 LANDING AT YAMBUYA 113 DIAGRAM OF FOREST CAMPS 130 MARCHING THROUGH THE FOREST 135 THE KIRANGOZI, OR FOREMOST MAN 137 HEAD-DRESS--CROWN OF BRISTLES 160 WASPS' NESTS 164 FORT ISLAND, NEAR PANGA FALLS 168 PANGA FALLS 169 VIEW OF UTIRI VILLAGE 172 LEAF-BLADED PADDLE OF AVISIBBA 174 A HEAD-DRESS OF AVISIBBA WARRIORS 178 CORONETED AVISIBBA WARRIOR--HEAD-DRESS 179 CASCADES OF THE NEPOKO 193 VIEW OF BAFAIDO CATARACT 202 ATTACKING AN ELEPHANT IN THE ITURI RIVER 203 RANDY SEIZES THE GUINEA FOWL 224 KILONGA LONGA'S STATION 234 SHIELDS OF THE BALESSÉ 256 VIEW OF MOUNT PISGAH FROM THE EASTWARD 281 VILLAGES OF THE BAKWURU ON A SPUR OF PISGAH 283 A VILLAGE AT THE BASE OF PISGAH 284 CHIEF OF THE IYUGU 285 PIPES OF FOREST TRIBES 290 SHIELDS OF BABUSESSÉ 299 SUSPENSION BRIDGE ACROSS THE EAST ITURI 304 SHIELD OF THE EDGE OF THE PLAINS 317 VIEW OF THE SOUTH END OF ALBERT NYANZA 318 CORN GRANARY OF THE BABUSESSÉ 328 A VILLAGE OF THE BAVIRI: EUROPEANS TAILORING 345 GREAT ROCK NEAR INDÉTONGA 348 EXTERIOR VIEW OF FORT BODO 349 INTERIOR VIEW OF FORT BODO 351 PLAN OF FORT BODO AND VICINITY, BY LIEUTENANT STAIRS 354 THE QUEEN OF THE DWARFS 368 WITHIN FORT BODO 371 ONE OF MAZAMBONI'S WARRIORS 384 KAVALLI, CHIEF OF THE BABIASSI 389 MILK VESSEL OF THE WAHUMA 392 THE STEAMERS "KHEDIVE" AND "NYANZA" ON LAKE ALBERT 426 VIEW OF BANALYA CURVE 493 PORTRAIT OF MAJOR BARTTELOT 499 " MR. JAMESON 501 _MAP_ A MAP OF THE GREAT FOREST REGION, SHOWING THE ROUTE OF THE EMIN PASHA RELIEF EXPEDITION FROM THE RIVER CONGO TO VICTORIA NYANZA. BY HENRY M. STANLEY. _In Pocket._ [Illustration: GROUP OF MR. STANLEY AND OFFICERS.] IN DARKEST AFRICA. PREFATORY LETTER My Dear Sir William, I have great pleasure in dedicating this book to you. It professes to be the Official Report to yourself and the Emin Relief Committee of what we have experienced and endured during our mission of Relief, which circumstances altered into that of Rescue. You may accept it as a truthful record of the journeyings of the Expedition which you and the Emin Relief Committee entrusted to my guidance. I regret that I was not able to accomplish all that I burned to do when I set out from England in January, 1887, but the total collapse of the Government of Equatoria thrust upon us the duty of conveying in hammocks so many aged and sick people, and protecting so many helpless and feeble folk, that we became transformed from a small fighting column of tried men into a mere Hospital Corps to whom active adventure was denied. The Governor was half blind and possessed much luggage, Casati was weakly and had to be carried, and 90 per cent. of their followers were, soon after starting, scarcely able to travel from age, disease, weakness or infancy. Without sacrificing our sacred charge, to assist which was the object of the Expedition, we could neither deviate to the right or to the left, from the most direct road to the sea. You who throughout your long and varied life have steadfastly believed in the Christian's God, and before men have professed your devout thankfulness for many mercies vouchsafed to you, will better understand than many others the feelings which animate me when I find myself back again in civilization, uninjured in life or health, after passing through so many stormy and distressful periods. Constrained at the darkest hour to humbly confess that without God's help I was helpless, I vowed a vow in the forest solitudes that I would confess His aid before men. A silence as of death was round about me; it was midnight; I was weakened by illness, prostrated with fatigue and worn with anxiety for my white and black companions, whose fate was a mystery. In this physical and mental distress I besought God to give me back my people. Nine hours later we were exulting with a rapturous joy. In full view of all was the crimson flag with the crescent, and beneath its waving folds was the long-lost rear column. Again, we had emerged into the open country out of the forest, after such experiences as in the collective annals of African travels there is no parallel. We were approaching the region wherein our ideal Governor was reported to be beleaguered. All that we heard from such natives as our scouts caught prepared us for desperate encounters with multitudes, of whose numbers or qualities none could inform us intelligently, and when the population of Undusuma swarmed in myriads on the hills, and the valleys seemed alive with warriors, it really seemed to us in our dense ignorance of their character and power, that these were of those who hemmed in the Pasha to the west. If he with his 4000 soldiers appealed for help, what could we effect with 173? The night before I had been reading the exhortation of Moses to Joshua, and whether it was the effect of those brave words, or whether it was a voice, I know not, but it appeared to me as though I heard: "Be strong, and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them, for the Lord thy God He it is that doth go with thee, He will not fail thee nor forsake thee." When on the next day Mazamboni commanded his people to attack and exterminate us, there was not a coward in our camp, whereas the evening before we exclaimed in bitterness on seeing four of our men fly before one native, "And these are the wretches with whom we must reach the Pasha!" And yet again. Between the confluence of the Ihuru and the Dui rivers in December 1888, 150 of the best and strongest of our men had been despatched to forage for food. They had been absent for many days more than they ought to have been, and in the meantime 130 men besides boys and women were starving. They were supported each day with a cup of warm thin broth, made of butter, milk and water, to keep death away as long as possible. When the provisions were so reduced that there were only sufficient for thirteen men for ten days, even of the thin broth with four tiny biscuits each per day, it became necessary for me to hunt up the missing men. They might, being without a leader, have been reckless, and been besieged by an overwhelming force of vicious dwarfs. My following consisted of sixty-six men, a few women and children, who, more active than the others, had assisted the thin fluid with the berries of the phrynium and the amomum, and such fungi as could be discovered in damp places, and therefore were possessed of some little strength, though the poor fellows were terribly emaciated. Fifty-one men, besides boys and women, were so prostrate with debility and disease that they would be hopelessly gone if within a few hours food did not arrive. My white comrade and thirteen men were assured of sufficient for ten days to protract the struggle against a painful death. We who were bound for the search possessed nothing. We could feed on berries until we could arrive at a plantation. As we travelled that afternoon we passed several dead bodies in various stages of decay, and the sight of doomed, dying and dead produced on my nerves such a feeling of weakness that I was well-nigh overcome. Every soul in that camp was paralysed with sadness and suffering. Despair had made them all dumb. Not a sound was heard to disturb the deathly brooding. It was a mercy to me that I heard no murmur of reproach, no sign of rebuke. I felt the horror of silence of the forest and the night intensely. Sleep was impossible. My thoughts dwelt on these recurring disobediences which caused so much misery and anxiety. "Stiff-necked, rebellious, incorrigible human nature, ever showing its animalism and brutishness, let the wretches be for ever accursed! Their utter thoughtless and oblivious natures and continual breach of promises kill more men, and cause more anxiety, than the poison of the darts or barbs and points of the arrows. If I meet them I will--" But before the resolve was uttered flashed to my memory the dead men on the road, the doomed in the camp, and the starving with me, and the thought that those 150 men were lost in the remorseless woods beyond recovery, or surrounded by savages without hope of escape, then do you wonder that the natural hardness of the heart was softened, and that I again consigned my case to Him who could alone assist us. The next morning within half-an-hour of the start we met the foragers, safe, sound, robust, loaded, bearing four tons of plantains. You can imagine what cries of joy these wild children of nature uttered, you can imagine how they flung themselves upon the fruit, and kindled the fires to roast and boil and bake, and how, after they were all filled, we rode back to the camp to rejoice those unfortunates with Mr. Bonny. As I mentally review the many grim episodes and reflect on the marvellously narrow escapes from utter destruction to which we have been subjected during our various journeys to and fro through that immense and gloomy extent of primeval woods, I feel utterly unable to attribute our salvation to any other cause than to a gracious Providence who for some purpose of His own preserved us. All the armies and armaments of Europe could not have lent us any aid in the dire extremity in which we found ourselves in that camp between the Dui and Ihuru; an army of explorers could not have traced our course to the scene of the last struggle had we fallen, for deep, deep as utter oblivion had we been surely buried under the humus of the trackless wilds. It is in this humble and grateful spirit that I commence this record of the progress of the Expedition from its inception by you to the date when at our feet the Indian Ocean burst into view, pure and blue as Heaven when we might justly exclaim "It is ended!" What the public ought to know, that have I written; but there are many things that the snarling, cynical, unbelieving, vulgar ought not to know. I write to you and to your friends, and for those who desire more light on Darkest Africa, and for those who can feel an interest in what concerns humanity. My creed has been, is, and will remain so, I hope, to act for the best, think the right thought, and speak the right word, as well as a good motive will permit. When a mission is entrusted to me and my conscience approves it as noble and right, and I give my promise to exert my best powers to fulfil this according to the letter and spirit, I carry with me a Law, that I am compelled to obey. If any associated with me prove to me by their manner and action that this Law is equally incumbent on them, then I recognize my brothers. Therefore it is with unqualified delight that I acknowledge the priceless services of my friends Stairs, Jephson, Nelson and Parke, four men whose devotion to their several duties were as perfect as human nature is capable of. As a man's epitaph can only be justly written when he lies in his sepulchre, so I rarely attempted to tell them during the journey, how much I valued the ready and prompt obedience of Stairs, that earnestness for work that distinguished Jephson, the brave soldierly qualities of Nelson, and the gentle, tender devotion paid by our Doctor to his ailing patients; but now that the long wanderings are over, and they have bided and laboured ungrudgingly throughout the long period, I feel that my words are poor indeed when I need them to express in full my lasting obligations to each of them. Concerning those who have fallen, or who were turned back by illness or accident, I will admit, with pleasure, that while in my company every one seemed most capable of fulfilling the highest expectations formed of them. I never had a doubt of any one of them until Mr. Bonny poured into my ears the dismal story of the rear column. While I possess positive proofs that both the Major and Mr. Jameson were inspired by loyalty, and burning with desire throughout those long months at Yambuya, I have endeavoured to ascertain why they did not proceed as instructed by letter, or why Messrs. Ward, Troup and Bonny did not suggest that to move little by little was preferable to rotting at Yambuya, which they were clearly in danger of doing, like the 100 dead followers. To this simple question there is no answer. The eight visits to Stanley Falls and Kasongo amount in the aggregate to 1,200 miles; their journals, log books, letters teem with proofs that every element of success was in and with them. I cannot understand why the five officers, having means for moving, confessedly burning with the desire to move, and animated with the highest feelings, did not move on along our tract as directed; or, why, believing I was alive, the officers sent my personal baggage down river and reduced their chief to a state of destitution; or, why they should send European tinned provisions and two dozen bottles of Madeira down river, when there were thirty-three men sick and hungry in camp; or, why Mr. Bonny should allow his own rations to be sent down while he was present; or, why Mr. Ward should be sent down river with a despatch, and an order be sent after him to prevent his return to the Expedition. These are a few of the problems which puzzle me, and to which I have been unable to obtain satisfactory solutions. Had any other person informed me that such things had taken place I should have doubted them, but I take my information solely from Major Barttelot's official despatch (See Appendix). The telegram which Mr. Ward conveyed to the sea requests instructions from the London Committee, but the gentlemen in London reply, "We refer you to Mr. Stanley's letter of instructions." It becomes clear to every one that there mystery here for which I cannot conceive a rational solution, and therefore each reader of this narrative must think his own thoughts but construe the whole charitably. After the discovery of Mr. Bonny at Banalya, I had frequent occasions to remark to him that his goodwill and devotion were equal to that shown by the others, and as for bravery, I think he has as much as the bravest. With his performance of any appointed work I never had cause for dissatisfaction, and as he so admirably conducted himself with such perfect and respectful obedience while with us from Banalya to the Indian Sea, the more the mystery of Yambuya life is deepened, for with 2,000 such soldiers as Bonny under a competent leader, the entire Soudan could be subjugated, pacified and governed. It must thoroughly be understood, however, while reflecting upon the misfortunes of the rear-column, that it is my firm belief that had it been the lot of Barttelot and Jameson to have been in the place of, say Stairs and Jephson, and to have accompanied us in the advance, they would equally have distinguished themselves; for such a group of young gentlemen as Barttelot, Jameson, Stairs, Nelson, Jephson, and Parke, at all times, night or day, so eager for and rather loving work, is rare. If I were to try and form another African State, such tireless, brave natures would be simply invaluable. The misfortunes of the rear-column were due to the resolutions of August 17th to stay and wait for me, and to the meeting with the Arabs the next day. What is herein related about Emin Pasha need not, I hope, be taken as derogating in the slightest from the high conception of our ideal. If the reality differs somewhat from it no fault can be attributed to him. While his people were faithful he was equal to the ideal; when his soldiers revolted his usefulness as a Governor ceased, just as the cabinet-maker with tools may turn out finished wood-work, but without them can do nothing. If the Pasha was not of such gigantic stature as we supposed him to be, he certainly cannot be held responsible for that, any more than he can be held accountable for his unmilitary appearance. If the Pasha was able to maintain his province for five years, he cannot in justice be held answerable for the wave of insanity and the epidemic of turbulence which converted his hitherto loyal soldiers into rebels. You will find two special periods in this narrative wherein the Pasha is described with strictest impartiality to each, but his misfortunes never cause us to lose our respect for him, though we may not agree with that excess of sentiment which distinguished him, for objects so unworthy as sworn rebels. As an administrator he displayed the finest qualities; he was just, tender, loyal and merciful, and affectionate to the natives who placed themselves under his protection, and no higher and better proof of the esteem with which he was regarded by his soldiery can be desired than that he owed his life to the reputation for justice and mildness which he had won. In short, every hour saved from sleep was devoted before his final deposition to some useful purpose conducive to increase of knowledge, improvement of humanity, and gain to civilization. You must remember all these things, and by no means lose sight of them, even while you read our impressions of him. I am compelled to believe that Mr. Mounteney Jephson wrote the kindliest report of the events that transpired during the arrest and imprisonment of the Pasha and himself, out of pure affection, sympathy, and fellow-feeling for his friend. Indeed the kindness and sympathy he entertains for the Pasha are so evident that I playfully accuse him of being either a Mahdist, Arabist, or Eminist, as one would naturally feel indignant at the prospect of leading a slave's life at Khartoum. The letters of Mr. Jephson, after being shown, were endorsed, as will be seen by Emin Pasha. Later observations proved the truth of those made by Mr. Jephson when he said, "Sentiment is the Pasha's worst enemy; nothing keeps Emin here but Emin himself." What I most admire in him is the evident struggle between his duty to me, as my agent, and the friendship he entertains for the Pasha. While we may naturally regret that Emin Pasha did not possess that influence over his troops which would have commanded their perfect obedience, confidence and trust, and made them pliable to the laws and customs of civilization, and compelled them to respect natives as fellow-subjects, to be guardians of peace and protectors of property, without which there can be no civilization, many will think that as the Governor was unable to do this, that it is as well that events took the turn they did. The natives of Africa cannot be taught that there are blessings in civilization if they are permitted to be oppressed and to be treated as unworthy of the treatment due to human beings, to be despoiled and enslaved at will by a licentious soldiery. The habit of regarding the aborigines as nothing better than pagan _abid_ or slaves, dates from Ibrahim Pasha, and must be utterly suppressed before any semblance of civilization can be seen outside the military settlements. When every grain of corn, and every fowl, goat, sheep and cow which is necessary for the troops is paid for in sterling money or its equivalent in necessary goods, then civilization will become irresistible in its influence, and the Gospel even may be introduced; but without impartial justice both are impossible, certainly never when preceded and accompanied by spoliation, which I fear was too general a custom in the Soudan. Those who have some regard for righteous justice may find some comfort in the reflection that until civilization in its true and real form be introduced into Equatoria, the aborigines shall now have some peace and rest, and that whatever aspects its semblance bare, excepting a few orange and lime trees, can be replaced within a month, under higher, better, and more enduring auspices. If during this Expedition I have not sufficiently manifested the reality of my friendship and devotion to you, and to my friends of the Emin Relief Committee, pray attribute it to want of opportunities and force of circumstances and not to lukewarmness and insincerity; but if, on the other hand, you and my friends have been satisfied that so far as lay in my power I have faithfully and loyally accomplished the missions you entrusted to me in the same spirit and to the same purpose that you yourself would have performed them had it been physically and morally possible for you to have been with us, then indeed am I satisfied, and the highest praise would not be equal in my opinion to the simple acknowledgment of it, such as "Well done." My dear Sir William, to love a noble, generous and loyal heart like your own, is natural. Accept the profession of mine, which has been pledged long ago to you wholly and entirely. Henry M. Stanley. To Sir William Mackinnon, Bart., of Balinakill and Loup, in the County of Argyleshire, The Chairman of the Emin Pasha Relief Committee. &c. &c. &c. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. The Khedive and the Soudan--Arabi Pasha--Hicks Pasha's defeat--The Mahdi--Sir Evelyn Baring and Lord Granville on the Soudan--Valentine Baker Pasha--General Gordon: his work in the Upper Soudan--Edward Schnitzler (or Emin Effendi Hakim) and his province--General Gordon at Khartoum: and account of the Belief Expedition in 1884, under Lord Wolseley--Mr. A. M. Mackay, the missionary in Uganda--Letters from Emin Bey to Mr. Mackay, Mr. C. H. Allen, and Dr. R. W. Felkin, relating to his Province--Mr. F. Holmwood's and Mr. A. M. Mackay's views on the proposed relief of Emin--Suggested routes for the Emin Relief Expedition--Sir Wm. Mackinnon and Mr. J. F. Hutton--The Relief Fund and Preparatory details of the Expedition--Colonel Sir Francis De Winton--Selection of officers for the Expedition--King Leopold and the Congo Route--Departure for Egypt. Only a Carlyle in his maturest period, as when he drew in lurid colours the agonies of the terrible French Revolution, can do justice to the long catalogue of disasters which has followed the connection of England with Egypt. It is a theme so dreadful throughout, that Englishmen shrink from touching it. Those who have written upon any matters relating to these horrors confine themselves to bare historical record. No one can read through these without shuddering at the dangers England and Englishmen have incurred during this pitiful period of mismanagement. After the Egyptian campaign there is only one bright gleam of sunshine throughout months of oppressive darkness, and that shone over the immortals of Abu-Klea and Gubat, when that small body of heroic Englishmen struggled shoulder to shoulder on the sands of the fatal desert, and won a glory equal to that which the Light Brigade were urged to gain at Balaclava. Those were fights indeed, and atone in a great measure for a series of blunders, that a century of history would fail to parallel. If only a portion of that earnestness of purpose exhibited at Abu-Klea had been manifested by those responsible for ordering events, the Mahdi would soon have become only a picturesque figure to adorn a page or to point a metaphor, and not the terrible portent of these latter days, whose presence blasted every vestige of civilization in the Soudan to ashes. In order that I may make a fitting but brief introduction to the subject matter of this book, I must necessarily glance at the events which led to the cry of the last surviving Lieutenant of Gordon for help in his close beleaguerment near the Equator. To the daring project of Ismail the Khedive do we owe the original cause of all that has befallen Egypt and the Soudan. With 5,000,000 of subjects, and a rapidly depleting treasury, he undertook the expansion of the Egyptian Khediviate into an enormous Egyptian Empire, the entire area embracing a superficial extent of nearly 1,000,000 square miles--that is, from the Pharos of Alexandria to the south end of Lake Albert, from Massowah to the western boundary of Darfur. Adventurers from Europe and from America resorted to his capital to suggest the maddest schemes, and volunteered themselves leaders of the wildest enterprises. The staid period when Egyptian sovereignty ceased at Gondokoro, and the Nile was the natural drain of such traffic as found its way by the gentle pressure of slow development, was ended when Captains Speke and Grant, and Sir Samuel Baker brought their rapturous reports of magnificent lakes, and regions unmatched for fertility and productiveness. The termination of the American Civil War threw numbers of military officers out of employment, and many thronged to Egypt to lend their genius to the modern Pharaoh, and to realize his splendid dreams of empire. Englishmen, Germans, and Italians, appeared also to share in the honours that were showered upon the bold and the brave. While reading carefully and dispassionately the annals of this period, admiring the breadth of the Khedive's views, the enthusiasm which possesses him, the princely liberality of his rewards, the military exploits, the sudden extensions of his power, and the steady expansions of his sovereignty to the south, west, and east, I am struck by the fact that his success as a conqueror in Africa may well be compared to the successes of Alexander in Asia, the only difference being that Alexander led his armies in person, while Ismail the Khedive preferred the luxuries of his palaces in Cairo, and to commit his wars to the charge of his Pashas and Beys. To the Khedive the career of conquest on which he has launched appears noble; the European Press applaud him; so many things of grand importance to civilization transpire that they chant pæans of praise in his honour; the two seas are brought together, and the mercantile navies ride in stately columns along the maritime canal; railways are pushed towards the south, and it is prophesied that a line will reach as far as Berber. But throughout all this brilliant period the people of this new empire do not seem to have been worthy of a thought, except as subjects of taxation and as instruments of supplying the Treasury; taxes are heavier than ever; the Pashas are more mercenary; the laws are more exacting, the ivory trade is monopolised, and finally, to add to the discontent already growing, the slave trade is prohibited throughout all the territory where Egyptian authority is constituted. Within five years Sir Samuel Baker has conquered the Equatorial Province, Munzinger has mastered Senaar, Darfur has been annexed, and Bahr-el-Ghazal has been subjugated after a most frightful waste of life. The audacity manifested in all these projects of empire is perfectly marvellous--almost as wonderful as the total absence of common sense. Along a line of territory 800 miles in length there are only three military stations in a country that can only rely upon camels as means of communication except when the Nile is high. In 1879, Ismail the Khedive having drawn too freely upon the banks of Europe, and increased the debt of Egypt to £128,000,000, and unable to agree to the restraints imposed by the Powers, the money of whose subjects he had so liberally squandered, was deposed, and the present Khedive, Tewfik, his son, was elevated to his place, under the tutelage of the Powers. But shortly after, a military revolt occurred, and at Kassassin, Tel-el-Kebir, Cairo, and Kafr Dowar, it was crushed by an English Army, 13,000 strong, under Lord Wolseley. During the brief sovereignty of Arabi Pasha, who headed the military revolt, much mischief was caused by the withdrawal of the available troops from the Soudan. While the English General was defeating the rebel soldiers at Tel-el-Kebir, the Mahdi Mohamet-Achmet was proceeding to the investment of El Obeid. On the 23rd of August he was attacked at Duem with a loss of 4500. On the 14th he was repulsed by the garrison of Obeid, with a loss, it is said, of 10,000 men. These immense losses of life, which have been continuous from the 11th of August, 1881, when the Mahdi first essayed the task of teaching the populations of the Soudan the weakness of Egyptian power, were from the tribes who were indifferent to the religion professed by the Mahdi, but who had been robbed by the Egyptian officials, taxed beyond endurance by the Government, and who had been prevented from obtaining means by the sale of slaves to pay the taxes, and also from the hundreds of slave-trading caravans, whose occupation was taken from them by their energetic suppression by Gordon, and his Lieutenant, Gessi Pasha. From the 11th of August, 1881, to the 4th of March, 1883, when Hicks Pasha, a retired Indian officer, landed at Khartoum as Chief of the Staff of the Soudan army, the disasters to the Government troops had been almost one unbroken series; and, in the meanwhile, the factious and mutinous army of Egypt had revolted, been suppressed and disbanded, and another army had been reconstituted under Sir Evelyn Wood, which was not to exceed 6000 men. Yet aware of the tremendous power of the Mahdi, and the combined fanaticism and hate, amounting to frenzy, which possessed his legions, and of the instability, the indiscipline, and cowardice of his troops--while pleading to the Egyptian Government for a reinforcement of 5000 men, or for four battalions of General Wood's new army--Hicks Pasha resolves upon the conquest of Kordofan, and marches to meet the victorious Prophet, while he and his hordes are flushed with the victory lately gained over Obeid and Bara. His staff, and the very civilians accompanying him, predict disaster; yet Hicks starts forth on his last journey with a body of 12,000 men, 10 mountain guns, 6 Nordenfelts, 5500 camels, and 500 horses. They know that the elements of weakness are in the force; that many of the soldiers are peasants taken from the fields in Egypt, chained in gangs; that others are Mahdists; that there is dissension between the officers, and that everything is out of joint. But they march towards Obeid, meet the Mahdi's legions, and are annihilated. England at this time directs the affairs of Egypt with the consent of the young Khedive, whom she has been instrumental in placing upon the almost royal throne of Egypt, and whom she is interested in protecting. Her soldiers are in Egypt; the new Egyptian army is under an English General; her military police is under the command of an English ex-Colonel of cavalry; her Diplomatic Agent directs the foreign policy; almost all the principal offices of the State are in the hands of Englishmen. The Soudan has been the scene of the most fearful sanguinary encounters between the ill-directed troops of the Egyptian Government and the victorious tribes gathered under the sacred banner of the Mahdi; and unless firm resistance is offered soon to the advance of the Prophet, it becomes clear to many in England that this vast region and fertile basin of the Upper Nile will be lost to Egypt, unless troops and money be furnished to meet the emergency. To the view of good sense it is clear that, as England has undertaken to direct the government and manage the affairs of Egypt, she cannot avoid declaring her policy as regards the Soudan. To a question addressed to the English Prime Minister in Parliament, as to whether the Soudan was regarded as forming a part of Egypt, and if so, whether the British Government would take steps to restore order there, Mr. Gladstone replied, that the Soudan had not been included in the sphere of English operations, and that the Government was not disposed to include it within the sphere of English responsibility. As a declaration of policy no fault can be found with it; it is Mr. Gladstone's policy, and there is nothing to be said against it as such; it is his principle, the principle of his associates in the Government, and of his party, and as a principle it deserves respect. The Political Agent in Egypt, Sir Evelyn Baring, while the fate of Hicks Pasha and his army was still unknown, but suspected, sends repeated signals of warning to the English Government, and suggests remedies and means of averting a final catastrophe. "If Hicks Pasha is defeated, Khartoum is in danger; by the fall of Khartoum, Egypt will be menaced." Lord Granville replies at various times in the months of November and December, 1883, that the Government advises the abandonment of the Soudan within certain limits; that the Egyptian Government must take the sole responsibility of operations beyond Egypt Proper; that the Government has no intention of employing British or Indian troops in the Soudan; that ineffectual efforts on the part of the Egyptian Government to secure the Soudan would only increase the danger. Sir Evelyn Baring notified Lord Granville that no persuasion or argument availed to induce the Egyptian Minister to accept the policy of abandonment. Cherif Pasha, the Prime Minister, also informed Lord Granville that, according to Valentine Baker Pasha, the means at the disposal were utterly inadequate for coping with the insurrection in the Soudan. Then Lord Granville replied, through Sir Evelyn Baring, that it was indispensable that, so long as English soldiers provisionally occupied Egypt, the advice of Her Majesty's Ministers should be followed, and that he insisted on its adoption. The Egyptian Ministers were changed, and Nubar Pasha became Prime Minister on the 10th January, 1884. On the 17th December, Valentine Baker departed from Egypt for Suakim, to commence military operations for the maintenance of communication between Suakim and Berber, and the pacification of the tribes in that region. While it was absolutely certain in England that Baker's force would suffer a crushing defeat, and suspected in Egypt, the General does not seem to be aware of any danger, or if there be, he courts it. The Khedive, fearful that to his troops an engagement will be most disastrous, writes privately to Baker Pasha: "I rely on your prudence and ability not to engage the enemy except under the most favourable conditions." Baker possessed ability and courage in abundance; but the event proved that prudence and judgment were as absent in his case as in that of the unfortunate Hicks. His force consisted of 3746 men. On the 6th of February he left Trinkitat on the sea shore, towards Tokar. After a march of six miles the van of the rebels was encountered, and shortly after the armies were engaged. It is said "that the rebels displayed the utmost contempt for the Egyptians; that they seized them by the neck and cut their throats; and that the Government troops, paralysed by fear, turned their backs, submitting to be killed rather than attempt to defend their lives; that hundreds threw away their rifles, knelt down, raised their clasped hands, and prayed for mercy." The total number killed was 2373 out of 3746. Mr. Royle, the excellent historian of the Egyptian campaigns, says: "Baker knew, or ought to have known, the composition of the troops he commanded, and to take such men into action was simply to court disaster." What ought we to say of Hicks? We now come to General Gordon, who from 1874 to 1876 had been working in the Upper Soudan on the lines commenced by Sir Samuel Baker, conciliating natives, crushing slave caravans, destroying slave stations, and extending Egyptian authority by lines of fortified forts up to the Albert Nyanza. After four months' retirement he was appointed Governor-General of the Soudan, of Darfur, and the Equatorial Provinces. Among others whom Gordon employed as Governors of these various provinces under his Vice-regal Government was one Edward Schnitzler, a German born in Oppeln, Prussia, 28th March, 1840, of Jewish parents, who had seen service in Turkey, Armenia, Syria, and Arabia, in the suite of Ismail Hakki Pasha, once Governor-General of Scutari, and a Mushir of the Empire. On the death of his patron he had departed to Niesse, where his mother, sister, and cousins lived, and where he stayed for several months, and thence left for Egypt. He, in 1875, thence travelled to Khartoum, and being a medical doctor, was employed by Gordon Pasha in that capacity. He assumed the name and title of Emin Effendi Hakim--the faithful physician. He was sent to Lado as storekeeper and doctor, was afterwards despatched to King Mtesa on a political mission, recalled to Khartoum, again despatched on a similar mission to King Kabba-Rega of Unyoro, and finally, in 1878, was promoted to Bey, and appointed Governor of the Equatorial Province of _Ha-tal-astiva_, which, rendered into English, means Equatoria, at a salary of £50 per month. A mate of one of the Peninsular and Oriental steamers, called Lupton, was promoted to the rank of Governor of the Province of Bahr-el-Ghazal, which adjoined Equatoria. [Illustration: EMIN PASHA.] On hearing of the deposition of Ismail in 1879, Gordon surrendered his high office in the hands of Tewfik, the new Khedive, informing him that he did not intend to resume it. In 1880 he accepted the post of Secretary under the Marquis of Ripon, but resigned it within a month. In 1881 he is in Mauritius as Commandant of the Royal Engineers. In about two months he abandons that post to proceed to the assistance of the Cape authorities in their difficulty with the Basutos, but, after a little experience, finds himself unable to agree with the views of the Cape Government, and resigns. Meantime, I have been labouring on the Congo River. Our successes in that immense territory of Western Africa have expanded into responsibilities so serious that they threaten to become unmanageable. When I visit the Lower Congo affairs become deranged on the Upper Congo; if I confine myself to the Upper Congo there is friction in the Lower Congo. Wherefore, feeling an intense interest in the growth of the territory which was rapidly developing into a State, I suggested to His Majesty King Leopold, as early as September, 1882, and again in the spring of 1883, that I required as an associate a person of merit, rank, and devotion to work, such as General Gordon, who would undertake either the management of the Lower or Upper Congo, while I would work in the other section, as a vast amount of valuable time was consumed in travelling up and down from one to the other, and young officers of stations were so apt to take advantage of my absence. His Majesty promised to request the aid of General Gordon, but for a long time the replies were unfavourable. Finally, in the spring of 1884, I received a letter in General Gordon's well-known handwriting, which informed me I was to expect him by the next mail. It appears, however, that he had no sooner mailed his letter to me and parted from His Majesty than he was besieged by applications from his countrymen to assist the Egyptian Government in extricating the beleaguered garrison of Khartoum from their impending fate. Personally I know nothing of what actually happened when he was ushered by Lord Wolseley into the presence of Lord Granville, but I have been informed that General Gordon was confident he could perform the mission entrusted to him. There is a serious discrepancy in the definition of this mission. The Egyptian authorities were anxious for the evacuation of Khartoum only, and it is possible that Lord Granville only needed Gordon's services for this humane mission, all the other garrisons to be left to their fate because of the supposed impossibility of rescuing them. The Blue Books which contain the official despatches seem to confirm the probability of this. But it is certain that Lord Granville instructed General Gordon to proceed to Egypt to report on the situation of the Soudan, and on the best measures that should be taken for the security of the Egyptian garrisons (in the plural), and for the safety of the European population in Khartoum. He was to perform such other duties as the Egyptian Government might wish to entrust to him. He was to be accompanied by Colonel Stewart. Sir Evelyn Baring, after a prolonged conversation with Gordon, gives him his final instructions on behalf of the British Government. A precis of these is as follows:-- 1. "Ensure retreat of the European population from 10,000 to 15,000 people, and of the garrison of Kartoum."[A] 2. "You know best the when and how to effect this." 3. "You will bear in mind that the main end (of your Mission) is the evacuation of the Soudan." 4. "As you are of opinion it could be done, endeavour to make a confederation of the native tribes to take the place of Egyptian authority." 5. "A credit of £100,000 is opened for you at the Finance Department." Gordon has succeeded in infusing confidence in the minds of the Egyptian Ministry, who were previously panic-stricken and cried out for the evacuation of Khartoum only. They breathe freer after seeing and hearing him, and according to his own request they invest him with the Governor-Generalship. The firman, given him, empowers him to evacuate the respective territories (of the Soudan) and to withdraw the troops, civil officials, and such of the inhabitants as wish to leave for Egypt, and if possible, after completing the evacuation (and this was an absolute impossibility) he was to establish an organized Government. With these instructions Lord Granville concurs. I am told that it was understood, however, that he was to do what he could--do everything necessary, in fact, if possible; if not all the Soudan, then he was to proceed to evacuating Khartoum only, without loss of time. But this is not on official record until March 23rd, 1884, and it is not known whether he ever received this particular telegram.[B] General Gordon proceeded to Khartoum on January 26th, 1884, and arrived in that city on the 18th of the following month. During his journey he sent frequent despatches by telegraph abounding in confidence. Mr. Power, the acting consul and _Times_ correspondent, wired the following despatch--"The people (of Khartoum) are devoted to General Gordon, whose design is to save the garrison, and for ever leave the Soudan--as perforce it must be left--to the Soudanese." The English press, which had been so wise respecting the chances of Valentine Baker Pasha, were very much in the condition of the people of Khartoum, that is, devoted to General Gordon and sanguine of his success. He had performed such wonders in China--he had laboured so effectually in crushing the slave-trade in the Soudan, he had won the affection of the sullen Soudanese, that the press did not deem it at all improbable that Gordon with his white wand and six servants could rescue the doomed garrisons of Senaar, Bahr-el-Ghazal and Equatoria--a total of 29,000 men, besides the civil employees and their wives and families; and after performing that more than herculean--nay utterly impossible task--establish an organized Government. On February 29th Gordon telegraphs, "There is not much chance of improving, and every chance is getting worse," and on the 2nd of the month "I have no option about staying at Khartoum, it has passed out of my hands." On the 16th March he predicts that before long "we shall be blocked." At the latter end of March he telegraphs, "We have provisions for five months, and are hemmed in." It is clear that a serious misunderstanding had occurred in the drawing up of the instructions by Sir Evelyn Baring and their comprehension of them by General Gordon, for the latter expresses himself to the former thus:-- "You ask me to state cause and reason of my intention for my staying at Khartoum. I stay at Khartoum because Arabs have shut us up, and will not let us out." Meantime public opinion urged on the British Government the necessity of despatching an Expedition to withdraw General Gordon from Khartoum. But as it was understood between General Gordon and Lord Granville that the former's mission was for the purpose of dispensing with the services of British troops in the Soudan, and as it was its declared policy not to employ English or Indian troops in that region, the Government were naturally reluctant to yield to the demand of the public. At last, however, as the clamour increased and Parliament and public joined in affirming that it was a duty on the country to save the brave man who had so willingly volunteered to perform such an important service for his country, Mr. Gladstone rose in the House of Commons on the 5th August to move a vote of credit to undertake operations for the relief of Gordon. Two routes were suggested by which the Relief Expedition could approach Khartoum--the short cut across the desert from Suakim to Berber, and the other by the Nile. Gordon expressed his preference for that up the Nile, and it was this latter route that the Commanding General of the Relief Expedition adopted. On the 18th September, the steamer "Abbas," with Colonel Stewart (Gordon's companion), Mr. Power, the _Times_ correspondent, Mr. Herbin, the French Consul, and a number of Greeks and Egyptians on board--forty-four men all told--on trying to pass by the cataract of Abu Hamid was wrecked in the cataract. The Arabs on the shore invited them to land in peace, but unarmed. Stewart complied, and he and the two Consuls (Power and Herbin) and Hassan Effendi went ashore and entered a house, in which they were immediately murdered. On the 17th November, Gordon reports to Lord Wolseley, who was then at Wady Halfa, that he can hold out for forty days yet, that the Mahdists are to the south, south-west, and east, but not to the north of Khartoum. By Christmas Day, 1884, a great part of the Expeditionary Force was assembled at Korti. So far, the advance of the Expedition had been as rapid as the energy and skill of the General commanding could command. Probably there never was a force so numerous animated with such noble ardour and passion as this under Lord Wolseley for the rescue of that noble and solitary Englishman at Khartoum. On December 30th, a part of General Herbert Stewart's force moves from Korti towards Gakdul Wells, with 2099 camels. In 46 hours and 50 minutes it has reached Gakdul Wells; 11 hours later Sir Herbert Stewart with all the camels starts on his return journey to Korti, which place was reached January 5th. On the 12th Sir Herbert Stewart was back at Gakdul Wells, and at 2 P.M. of the 13th the march towards Abu Klea was resumed. On the 17th, the famous battle of Abu Klea was fought, resulting in a hard-won victory to the English troops, with a loss of 9 officers and 65 men killed and 85 wounded, out of a total of 1800, while 1100 of the enemy lay dead before the square. It appears probable that if the 3000 English sent up the Nile Valley had been with this gallant little force, it would have been a mere walk over for the English army. After another battle on the 19th near Metammeh, where 20 men were killed and 60 wounded of the English, and 250 of the enemy, a village on a gravel terrace near the Nile was occupied. On the 21st, four steamers belonging to General Gordon appeared. The officer in command stated that they had been lying for some weeks near an island awaiting the arrival of the British column. The 22nd and 23rd were expended by Sir Chas. Wilson in making a reconnaissance, building two forts, changing the crews of the steamers, and preparing fuel. On the 24th, two of the steamers started for Khartoum, carrying only 20 English soldiers. On the 26th two men came aboard and reported that there had been fighting at Khartoum; on the 27th a man cried out from the bank that the town had fallen, and that Gordon had been killed. The next day the last news was confirmed by another man. Sir Charles Wilson steamed on until his steamers became the target of cannon from Omdurman and from Khartoum, besides rifles from a distance of from 75 to 200 yards, and turned back only when convinced that the sad news was only too true. Steaming down river then at full speed he reached Tamanieb when he halted for the night. From here he sent out two messengers to collect news. One returned saying that he had met an Arab who informed him that Khartoum had been entered on the night of the 26th January through the treachery of Farag Pasha, and that Gordon was killed; that the Mahdi had on the next day entered the city and had gone into a mosque to return thanks and had then retired, and had given the city up to three days' pillage. In Major Kitchener's report we find a summary of the results of the taking of Khartoum. "The massacre in the town lasted some six hours, and about 4000 persons at least were killed. The Bashi Bazouks and white regulars numbering 3327, and the Shaigia irregulars numbering 2330, were mostly all killed in cold blood after they had surrendered and been disarmed." The surviving inhabitants of the town were ordered out, and as they passed through the gate were searched, and then taken to Omdurman where the women were distributed among the Mahdist chiefs, and the men were stripped and turned adrift to pick a living as they could. A Greek merchant, who escaped from Khartoum, reported that the town was betrayed by the merchants there, who desired to make terms with the enemy, and not by Farag Pasha. Darfur, Kordofan, Senaar, Bahr-el-Ghazal, Khartoum, had been possessed by the enemy; Kassala soon followed, and throughout the length and breadth of the Soudan there now remained only the Equatorial Province, whose Governor was Emin Bey Hakim--the Faithful Physician. Naturally, if English people felt that they were in duty bound to rescue their brave countryman, and a gallant General of such genius and reputation as Gordon, they would feel a lively interest in the fate of the last of Gordon's Governors, who, by a prudent Fabian policy, it was supposed, had evaded the fate which had befallen the armies and garrisons of the Soudan. It follows also that, if the English were solicitous for the salvation of the garrison of Khartoum, they would feel a proportionate solicitude for the fate of a brave officer and his little army in the far South, and that, if assistance could be rendered at a reasonable cost, there would be no difficulty in raising a fund to effect that desirable object. On November 16, 1884, Emin Bey informs Mr. A. M. Mackay, the missionary in Uganda, by letter written at Lado, that "the Soudan has become the theatre of an insurrection; that for nineteen months he is without news from Khartoum, and that thence he is led to believe that the town has been taken by the insurgents, or that the Nile is blocked "; but he says:-- "Whatever it proves to be, please inform your correspondents and through them the Egyptian Government that to this day we are well, and that we propose to hold out until help may reach us or until we perish." A second note from Emin Bey to the same missionary, on the same date as the preceding, contains the following:-- "The Bahr-Ghazal Province being lost and Lupton Bey, the governor, carried away to Kordofan, we are unable to inform our Government of what happens here. For nineteen months we have had no communication from Khartoum, so I suppose the river is blocked up." "Please therefore inform the Egyptian Government by some means that we are well to this day, but greatly in need of help. We shall hold out until we obtain such help or until we perish." To Mr. Charles H. Allen, Secretary of the Anti-Slavery Society, Emin Bey writes from Wadelai, December 31, 1885, as follows:-- "Ever since the month of May, 1883, we have been cut off from all communication with the world. Forgotten, and abandoned by the Government, we have been compelled to make a virtue of necessity. Since the occupation of the Bahr-Ghazal we have been vigorously attacked, and I do not know how to describe to you the admirable devotion of my black troops throughout a long war, which for them at least, has no advantage. Deprived of the most necessary things for a long time without any pay, my men fought valiantly, and when at last hunger weakened them, when, after nineteen days of incredible privation and sufferings, their strength was exhausted, and when the last torn leather of the last boot had been eaten, then they cut away through the midst of their enemies and succeeded in saving themselves. All this hardship was undergone without the least _arrière-pensée_, without even the hope of any appreciable reward, prompted only by their duty and the desire of showing a proper valour before their enemies." This is a noble record of valour and military virtue. I remember the appearance of this letter in the _Times_, and the impression it made on myself and friends. It was only a few days after the appearance of this letter that we began to discuss ways and means of relief for the writer. The following letter also impressed me very strongly. It is written to Dr. R. W. Felkin on the same date, December 31, 1885. * * * * * "You will probably know through the daily papers that poor Lupton, after having bravely held the Bahr-Ghazal Province was compelled, through the treachery of his own people, to surrender to the emissaries of the late Madhi, and was carried by them to Kordofan." "My province and also myself I only saved from a like fate by a stratagem, but at last I was attacked, and many losses in both men and ammunition were the result, until I delivered such a heavy blow to the rebels at Rimo, in Makraka, that compelled them to leave me alone. Before this took place they informed us that Khartoum fell, in January, 1885, and that Gordon was killed." "Naturally on account of these occurrences I have been compelled to evacuate our more distant stations, and withdraw our soldiers and their families, still hoping that our Government will send us help. It seems, however, that I have deceived myself, for since April, 1883, I have received no news of any kind from the north." "The Government in Khartoum did not behave well to us. Before they evacuated Fashoda, they ought to have remembered that Government officials were living here (Equatorial Provinces) who had performed their duty, and had not deserved to be left to their fate without more ado. Even if it were the intention of the Government to deliver us over to our fate, the least they could have done was to have released us from our duties; we should then have known that we were considered to have become valueless." * * * * * "Anyway it was necessary for us to seek some way of escape, and in the first place it was urgent to send news of our existence in Egypt. With this object in view I went south, after having made the necessary arrangements at Lado, and came to Wadelai." * * * * * "As to my future plans, I intend to hold this country as long as possible. I hope that when our letters arrive in Egypt, in seven or eight months, a reply will be sent to me _viâ_ Khartoum or Zanzibar. If the Egyptian Government still exists in the Soudan we naturally expect them to send us help. If, however, the Soudan has been evacuated, I shall take the whole of the people towards the south. I shall then send the whole of the Egyptian and Khartoum officials _viâ_ Uganda or Karagwé to Zanzibar, but shall remain myself with my black troops at Kabba-Rege's until the Government inform me as to their wishes." This is very clear that Emin Pasha at this time proposed to relieve himself of the Egyptian officials, and that he himself only intended to remain until the Egyptian Government could communicate to him its wishes. Those "wishes" were that he should abandon his province, as they were unable to maintain it, and take advantage of the escort to leave Africa. In a letter written to Mr. Mackay dated July 6th, 1886, Emin says:-- "In the first place believe me that I am in no hurry to break away from here, or to leave those countries in which I have now laboured for ten years." * * * * * "All my people, but especially the negro troops, entertain a strong objection against a march to the south and thence to Egypt, and mean to remain here until they can be taken north. Meantime, if no danger overtakes us, and our ammunition holds out for sometime longer, I mean to follow your advice and remain here until help comes to us from some quarter. At all events, you may rest assured that we will occasion no disturbance to you in Uganda." "I shall determine on a march to the coast only in a case of dire necessity. There are, moreover, two other routes before me. One from Kabba-Rega's direct to Karagwé; the other _viâ_ Usongora to the stations at Tanganika. I hope, however, that I shall have no need to make use of either." * * * * * "My people have become impatient through long delay, and are anxiously looking for help at last. It would also be most desirable that some Commissioner came here from Europe, either direct by the Masai route, or from Karagwé _viâ_ Kabba-Rega's country, in order that my people may actually see that there is some interest taken in them. I would defray with ivory all expenses of such a Commission." "As I once more repeat, I am ready to stay and to hold these countries as long as I can until help comes, and I beseech you to do what you can to hasten the arrival of such assistance. Assure Mwanga that he has nothing to fear from me or my people, and that as an old friend of Mtesa's I have no intention to trouble him." In the above letters we have Emin Bey's views, wherein we gather that his people are loyal--that is they are obedient to his commands, but that none of them, judging from the tenour of the letters, express any inclination to return to Egypt, excepting the Egyptians. He is at the same time pondering upon the routes by which it is possible to retreat--elsewhere he suggests the Monbuttu route to the sea; in these letters he hints at Masai Land, or through Unyoro, and west of Uganda to Usongora, and thence to Tanganika! If none of the black troops intended to follow him, he certainly could not have done so with only the Egyptian officials and their families. From the following letters from the Consul-General, F. Holmwood, to Sir Evelyn Baring, dated September 25th and September 27th, we gather Mr. Holmwood's views, who, from his position and local knowledge, was very competent to furnish information as to what could be done in the way of the proposed relief. "In Emin's letters to me he only reports his situation up to 27th February, 1886, when he proposed evacuating his province by detachments, the first of which he proposed to despatch at the close of the rains toward the end of July; but both Dr. Junker and Mr. Mackay inform me that they have since heard from Emin that the majority of the 4000 loyal Egyptian subjects who have remained faithful to Egypt throughout, and have supported him in the face of the constant attacks from the Mahdi's adherents, aggravated by an imminent danger of starvation, refuse to leave their country, and he had therefore determined, if he could possibly do so, to remain at his post, and continue to protect Egyptian interests till relief arrived." * * * * * "Were Uganda freed from this tyrant (Mwanga), the Equatorial Province, even should the present elementary system of communication remain unmodified, would be within eight weeks' post of Zanzibar, and a safe depôt on the Albert Nyanza would provide a base for any further operations that might be decided upon." "Dr. Junker states that the country to the east of the Ripon Falls[C] has proved impracticable, and that Emin has lost many troops in endeavouring to open communication through it. If such be the case the alternative line by which Dr. Fischer tried to relieve Junker, and which I believe he still recommends, could not be relied on for turning Uganda and its eastern dependency, and the well-known route _viâ_ Uganda would be the only one available for an Expedition of moderate size." * * * * * "As far as I am able to judge, without making any special calculation, I consider that 1200 porters would be the smallest number that would suffice, and a well-armed guard of at least 500 natives would be necessary." * * * * * "General Matthews, whom I had consulted as to the force necessary for the safety of the Expedition, is of opinion that I have formed far too low an estimate, but after weighing the testimony of many experienced persons acquainted with Uganda, I must adhere to my opinion that 500 native troops armed with modern rifles and under experienced persons, would, if supplemented by the irregular force, fully suffice." An American officer of the Khedivial Government writes to Mr. Portal, and suggests that communication with Emin might be opened by the Zanzibar Arabs, but that to send stores and ammunition to him was impossible; that the Arabs might manage for his passage, though his safest line of retreat was westward to reach the Congo. Mr. Fred Holmwood, in his despatch to the Foreign Office of September 23rd, 1886, writes that, "had it not been for the dangerous attitude of the King of Uganda, the question of relieving Emin would have been merely one of expenditure to be settled at Cairo; but under present circumstances, many other serious considerations are involved in it which will have to be referred to Her Majesty's Government." "I would call attention to the account contained in Mr. Mackay's letter regarding the alternative route to Wadelai which Dr. Fischer endeavoured to take and, I believe, still recommends. If this statement be correct, any attempt to turn Uganda or its Eastern dependency by this unexplored line would probably fail." Mr. A. M. Mackay writes from Uganda, May 14th, 1886:-- "From Dr. Junker's letter you will have seen that Emin Bey has had the good fortune to have secured the loyalty of the people he governs. Emin seems to have learned Gordon's secret of securing the affection of his subjects, and has bravely stuck to them. There can be no doubt at all but that had he been anxious to leave he would with a few hundred of his soldiers have easily made a dash for the coast either through the Masai Land or this way, asking no permission from Mwanga (King of Uganda) or anyone else. He knows that there is no power here able to stop him. In fact years ago he wrote me that it would be nothing to him to storm this wretched village and drive off the cattle." "But what would be the fate of thousands of people who have remained loyal on the Upper Nile? Dr. Junker speaks of thousands. They do not want to be taken out of their own fertile country, and taken to the deserts of Upper Egypt." "Dr. Emin is on all hands allowed to be a wise and able Governor. But he cannot remain for ever where he is, nor can he succeed himself, even should the Mahdi's troops leave him undisturbed in the future. His peculiar position should be taken advantage of by our country, which undertook to rescue the garrisons of the Soudan." * * * * * "Mwanga's action with respect to the letters forwarded him for Dr. Emin, was as disrespectful as possible to the British Government which had received with such kindness his father's envoys. We asked him merely to forward the letters in the first place until he should receive word from Emin as to whether or not he was prepared to come this way, but he detained your packet altogether." In Mr. Mackay's letter to Sir John Kirk, June 28th, 1886, he says:-- "Dr. Fischer's difficulties would also only really begin after Kavirondo, as he then had the country of the dreaded Bakedi to cross, and Dr. Junker tells me that whole parties of Dr. Emin's soldiers have been repeatedly murdered by them." Dr. Fischer, it will be remembered, was engaged to proceed to Equatoria in search of Dr. Junker by that traveller's brother, and chose the road _viâ_ East coast of the Victoria Lake. Arriving at the N.E. corner of the Lake he returned to the coast. Mr. Mackay proceeds:-- "Dr. Junker is living here with us. He brought me a letter from Emin Bey dated the 27th January (1886). He then proposed sending his people at once this way--some 4000--in small detachments. This policy would be fatal. He also asked me to go to meet him with a view to bringing here two steamers which otherwise he would have to abandon. One of them he meant for the King, and the other for the mission." "Since then, however he finds that his people, officers and men, refuse to leave the Soudan, hence he is prepared to remain some years with them provided only he can get supplies of cloth, etc." Mr. Mackay always writes sensibly. I obtained a great deal of solid information from these letters. Naturally he writes in the full belief that Emin's troops are loyal. We all shared in this belief. We now see that we were grossly misled, and that at no time could Emin have cut his way to the coast through Uganda or any other country with men of such fibre as his ignorant and stolid Soudanese. Mr. Joseph Thomson, in a letter to the _Times_, suggested a route through the Masai Land, and proposed to be responsible for the safe conduct of a Relief Expedition through that country. Mr. J. T. Wills suggested that the Mobangi-Welle would prove an excellent way to Emin. Mr. Harrison Smith expressed himself assured that a way by Abyssinia would be found feasible. Another gentleman interested in the African Lakes Company proposed that the Expedition should adopt the Zambezi-Shire-Nyassa route, and thence _viâ_ Tanganika north to Muta Nzige and Lake Albert, and a missionary from the Tanganika warmly endorsed it, as not presenting more difficulties than any other. Dr. Felkin, in the 'Scottish Geographical Magazine,' after examining several routes carefully, came to the conclusion that a road west of Lake Victoria and Karagwé, through Usongora to Lake Albert, possessed some advantages over any other. Early in October, 1886, Sir William Mackinnon and Mr. J. F. Hutton, ex-President of the Manchester Chamber of Commerce, had spoken with me respecting the possibilities of conveying relief to Emin, with a view to enable him to hold his own. To them it seemed that he only required ammunition, and I shared their opinion, and they were very earnest in their intention to collect funds for the support he required. But many of their friends were absent from town, and they could not decide alone what should be done without consultation. We discussed estimates and routes, and Mr. Hutton informs me that the rough estimate I furnished him then exceeds by £500 the actual cost of the Expedition. As for routes, I intimated to them that there were four almost equally feasible. The first, _viâ_ Masai Land, was decidedly objectionable while carrying a vast store of ammunition which absolutely must reach Emin. Mr. Thomson had tried it, and his account of the extremities to which he was driven on returning from the Lake Victoria, for want of water and grain, were extremely unfavourable. In proceeding to the lake his people were dispirited, and deserted in such numbers that he was obliged to return a short distance, to Kilima Njaro, leave his camp there, and proceed with a few men back to the coast to recruit more men. In case of a pressing necessity like this it would be extremely unwise to return a mile after commencing the march. The tendency of the Zanzibaris to desert also was another disadvantage, and desertion of late from East Coast Expeditions had assumed alarming proportions owing to the impunity with which they could decamp with rifles and loads, and the number of opportunities presented to them. Many of the Zanzibaris had become professional advance-jumpers, and the greater the expedition the greater would be the loss in money, rifles and stores. The second, _viâ_ Victoria Nyanza and Uganda, which was naturally the best, was rendered impossible for a small expedition because of the hostility of Uganda. Even this hostility could be avoided if there were any vessels on Lake Victoria capable of transporting across the lake such an expedition as was needed. The danger of desertion was just as imminent on this as on the first. The third was _viâ_ Msalala, Karagwé and Ankori, and Unyoro and Lake Albert. Immense loss of men and goods would assuredly follow any attempt from the East Coast. Fifty per cent. loss was unavoidable, and no precautions would avail to prevent desertion. Besides, Karagwé was garrisoned by the Waganda, and no expedition could pass through that country without persistent hostility from the Waganda. If fortunate enough to force our way through Karagwé, we should have to reckon with the Wanyankori, who number 200,000 spears, and if introduced to them by fighting the Karagwé natives the outlook would be dismal in the extreme. As for going through any country west of Karagwé to avoid the Waganda that would be impossible, except at a cost that I did not suppose the subscribers would contemplate paying. "The whole question resolves itself into that of money. With money enough every route is possible; but as I understand it, you propose to subscribe a moderate amount, and therefore there is only one route which is safely open for the money, and that is the Congo. This river has the disadvantage of not having enough transport vessels in its upper portion. I would propose then to supplement the Upper Congo flotilla with fifteen whale-boats, which will take an Expedition to within 200 miles, at least, of the Albert Nyanza. A heavy labour will be carrying the whale-boats from the Lower Congo to the Upper, but we can easily manage it by sending agents at once there to prepare carriers. There is one thing, however, that must be done--which is to obtain the sanction of King Leopold. "But it may be we are rather premature in discussing the matter at all. You know I am aware of many projects mooted, and much 'talk' has been expended on each and this may end in smoke--collect your funds, and then call upon me if you want me. If you do not require me after this exposition of my views, let Thomson take his Expedition through the Masai Land, and put me down for £500 subscription for it." As the middle of November drew near, Sir William Mackinnon requested me to write him a letter upon the subject that he might show it to his friends, who would soon be returning to town. A few days after the despatch of the letter, I sailed for America, and on arrival at New York, the lecture "Tour," as it is called, commenced. But on the 11th December, the fifteenth day after arrival, I received the following:-- "London. "Your plan and offer accepted. Authorities approve. Funds provided. Business urgent. Come promptly. Reply. "Mackinnon." A reply was sent from St. Johnsbury, Vermont, for thus far the lecture tour had reached, as follows:-- Just received Monday's cablegram. Many thanks. Everything all right. Will sail per _Eider_ 8 a.m. Wednesday morning. If good weather and barring accidents arrive 22nd December, Southampton. It is only one month's delay after all. Tell the authorities to prepare Holmwood (Consul General) Zanzibar, and Seyyid Barghash (Prince of Zanzibar). Best compliments to you. "Stanley." My agent was in despair--the audiences were so kind--the receptions were ovations, but arguments and entreaties were of no avail. I arrived in England the day preceding Christmas, and within a few hours Sir William Mackinnon and myself were discussing the Expedition. Of course, and without the least shade of doubt, I was firmly convinced that the Congo River route was infinitely the best and safest, provided that I should get my flotilla of whale-boats, and the permission of King Leopold to pass through his territory with an armed force. I knew a route from the East Coast, and was equally acquainted with that from the West Coast. From the furthest point reached by me in 1876, along the East Coast road, the distance was but 100 miles to Lake Albert--from Yambuya Rapids the distance was 322 geographical miles in an air line to the lake. Yet to the best of my judgment the Congo route was preferable. We should have abundance of water--which was so scanty and bad along the Eastern route; food there must be--it was natural to expect it from my knowledge that unsurpassed fertility such as the Upper Congo regions possesses would have been long ago discovered by the aborigines, whereas we knew from Thomson, Fischer, and Hannington's experiences that food and water was scanty in Masai Land; then again, that wholesale desertion so frequent on the East Coast would be avoided on the West Coast. Yet notwithstanding they admitted that I might be right, it was the opinion of the Committee that it would be best to adopt the Eastern route. "Very good, it is perfectly immaterial to me. Let us decide on the East Coast route, _viâ_ Msalala, Karagwé, Ankori, and Unyoro. If you hear of some hard-fighting, I look to you that you will defend the absent. If I could drop this ammunition in Emin's camp from a balloon I certainly would do so, and avoid coming in contact with those warlike natives, but it is decided that the means of defence must be put into Emin's hands, and you have entrusted me with the escort of it. So be it." A Relief Fund was raised, the subscriptions to which were as follows:-- £ Sir William Mackinnon, Bart. 2,000 Peter Mackinnon, Esq. 1,000 John Mackinnon, Esq. 300 Baroness Burdett-Coutts 100 W. Burdett-Coutts, Esq. 400 James S. Jameson, Esq. 1,000 Countess de Noailles 1,000 Peter Denny, Esq., of Dumbarton 1,000 Henry Johnson Younger, Esq., of the Scottish Geographical Society 500 Alexander L. Bruce, Esq., of the Scottish Geographical Society 500 Messrs. Gray, Dawes & Co., of London 1,000 Duncan Mac Neil, Esq. 700 James F. Hutton, Esq., of Manchester 250 Sir Thos. Fowell Buxton 250 James Hall, Esq., of Argyleshire 250 N. McMichael, Esq., of Glasgow 250 Royal Geographical Society, London 1,000 Egyptian Government 10,000 ------ £21,500[D] In order to increase the funds and create a provision against contingencies, I volunteered to write letters from Africa, which the Committee might dispose of to the press as they saw fit, and accept whatever moneys that might receive as my contribution to it. The estimate of time required to reach Emin Pasha, after a careful calculation, was formed on the basis that whereas I travelled in 1874-5 a distance of 720 miles in 103 days, therefore:-- 1st route.--By Masai Land, march to Wadelai and return to coast 14 months. Reserve for delays 4 months = 18 months. 2nd route.--By Msalala, Karagwé, Ankori, and Usongora to Lake Albert. Land march to and return 16 months, delays 4 months = 20 months. 3rd route.--_Viâ_ Congo. Zanzibar to Congo 1 mth. = 1st April, 1887 Overland route to Stanley Pool 1 " = 1st May " By steam up the Congo 1-1/2 " = 15th June " Halt 25th " " Yambuya to Albert Nyanza 3 mths = 25th Sept., 1887 Halt 9th Jan., 1888 Albert Nyanza to Zanzibar, land march 8 " = 8th Sept. " Delays 3-1/2 " = 18 months. The actual time, however, occupied by the Expedition is as follows:-- Arrive at Congo 18th Mar., 1887 " " Stanley Pool 21st Apr. " " " Yambuya 15th June " Halt at Yambuya 28th " " Albert Nyanza 13th Dec. " Return to Fort Bodo 8th Jan., 1888 Halt while collecting convalescents 2nd Apr. " The Albert Nyanza, 2nd time 18th " " Halt until 25th May " Fort Bodo again 8th June " Banalya 90 miles from Yambuya 17th Aug. " Fort Bodo again 20th Dec. " Albert Nyanza, 3rd time 26th Jan., 1889 Halt near Albert Nyanza until 8th May " March to Zanzibar, 1400 miles, 6 months. 6th Dec. " So that we actually occupied a little over 10-1/2 months from Zanzibar to the Albert Nyanza, and from the Nyanza to the Indian Ocean. 6 " Halt at the Albert 1-1/2 " ------- 18 " I was formally informed by letter on the 31st of December, 1886, that I might commence my preparations. The first order I gave in connection with the Expedition for the relief of Emin Bey was by cable to Zanzibar to my agent, Mr. Edmund Mackenzie, of Messrs. Smith, Mackenzie & Co., to engage 200 Wanyamwezi porters at Bagamoyo to convey as many loads of rice (= 6 tons) to the missionary station at Mpwapwa, which was about 200 miles east of Zanzibar, the cost of which was 2,700 rupees. The second order, after receiving the consent of His Highness the Seyyid of Zanzibar, was to enlist 600 Zanzibari porters, and also the purchase of the following goods, to be used for barter for native provisions, such as grain, potatoes, rice, Indian corn, bananas, plantains, etc. Yards. 400 pieces (30 yards each) of brown sheeting 12,000 865 " (8 " " ) of kaniki 6,920 99 " (8 " " ) handkerchiefs 792 80 " (8 " " ) tanjiri 640 214 " (8 " " ) dabwani 1,712 107 " (8 " " ) sohari 856 27 " (8 " " ) subaya 216 121 " (8 " " ) Barsati 968 58 " (24 " " ) Kunguru 1,392 48 " (8 " " ) ismaili 384 119 " (8 " " ) kikoi 952 14 " (4 " " ) daole 56 27 " (4 " " ) jawah 108 4 " (24 " " ) kanga 96 4 " (24 " " ) bindera 96 58 " (8 " " ) rehani 464 6 " (30 " " ) joho 180 24 " (4 " " ) silk kikoi 96 4 " (4 " " ) silk daole 96 24 " (4 " " ) fine dabwani 96 13 " (4 " " ) sohari 52 3 " (30 " " ) fine sheeting 90 24 long shirts, white 24 " " brown ------- Total yards 27,262 Also 3,600 lbs. of beads and 1 ton of wire, brass, copper, iron. The third order was for the purchase of forty pack donkeys and ten riding asses, which necessitated an order for saddles to match, at an expense of £400. Messrs. Forrest & Son received a design and order for the construction of a steel boat 28 ft. long, 6 ft. beam, and 2 ft. 6 in. deep. It was to be built of Siemens steel galvanized, and divided into twelve sections, each weighing about 75 lbs. The fore and aft sections were to be decked and watertight, to give buoyancy in case of accident. From Egypt were despatched to Zanzibar 510 Remington rifles, 2 tons of gunpowder, 350,000 percussion caps, and 100,000 rounds Remington ammunition. In England the War Office furnished me with 30,000 Gatling cartridges, and from Messrs. Kynoch & Co., Birmingham, I received 35,000 special Remington cartridges. Messrs. Watson & Co., of 4, Pall Mall, packed up 50 Winchester repeaters and 50,000 Winchester cartridges. Hiram Maxim, the inventor of the Maxim Automatic Gun, donated as a gift one of his wonderful weapons, with shield attached mounted on a light but effective stand. We despatched to Zanzibar 100 shovels, 100 hoes, for forming breastworks, 100 axes for palisading the camp, 100 bill-hooks for building zeribas. Messrs. Burroughs & Welcome, of Snowhill Buildings, London, the well-known chemists, furnished gratis nine beautiful chests replete with every medicament necessary to combat the endemic diseases peculiar to Africa. Every drug was in tablets mixed with quick solvents, every compartment was well stocked with essentials for the doctor and surgeon. Nothing was omitted, and we all owe a deep debt of gratitude to these gentlemen, not only for the intrinsic value of these chests and excellent medicines, but also for the personal selection of the best that London could furnish, and the supervision of the packing, by which means we were enabled to transport them to Yambuya without damage. Messrs. John Edgington & Co., of Duke Street, London, took charge of our tents, and made them out of canvas dipped in a preservative of sulphate of copper which preserved them for three years. Notwithstanding their exposure to three hundred days of rain, for the first time in my experience in Africa I possessed a tent which, after arrival at Zanzibar in 1889, was well able to endure two hundred days more of rain. Messrs. Fortnum & Mason, of Piccadilly, packed up forty carrier loads of choicest provisions. Every article was superb, the tea retained its flavour to the last, the coffee was of the purest Mocha, the Liebig Company's Extract was of the choicest, and the packing of all was excellent. [Illustration: CAPTAIN NELSON.] I need not enumerate what else was purchased. Four expeditions into Africa, with my old lists of miscellanea before me, enabled me to choose the various articles, and in Sir Francis de Winton and Captain Grant Elliott I had valuable assistants who would know what magazines to patronize, and who could check the deliveries. Colonel Sir Francis de Winton was my successor on the Congo, and he gave me gratuitously and out of pure friendship the benefit of his great experience, and his masterly knowledge of business to assist me in the despatch of the various businesses connected with the expedition, especially in answering letters, and selecting out of the hundreds of eager applicants for membership a few officers to form a staff. [Illustration: LIEUTENANT STAIRS.] The first selected was Lieutenant W. Grant Stairs, of the Royal Engineers, who had applied by letter. The concise style and directness of the application appealed strongly in his favour. We sent for him, and after a short interview enlisted him on condition that he could obtain leave of absence. Lord Wolseley kindly granted leave. [Illustration: MR. WILLIAM BONNY.] The next was Mr. William Bonny, who, having failed in his epistolary ventures on former expeditions, thought the best way was to present himself in person for service in any capacity. The gentleman would not take a mild negative. His breast was covered with medals. They spoke eloquently, though dumb, for his merits. The end of it was Mr. Bonny was engaged as medical assistant, he having just left service in a hospital of the A.M.D. The third was Mr. John Rose Troup, who had performed good service on the Congo. He was intimate with Swahili, the vernacular of Zanzibar. He was not dainty at work, was exact and methodical in preserving accounts. Mr. Troup was engaged. [Illustration: MR. A. J. MOUNTENEY JEPHSON.] The fourth volunteer who presented himself was Major Edmund Musgrave Barttelot, of the 7th Fusileers. He was accompanied by an acquaintance of mine who spoke highly of him. What passed at the interview will be heard later on. After a few remarks he was also engaged. The fifth was Captain R. H. Nelson, of Methuen's Horse, fairly distinguished in Zulu campaigns. There was merit in his very face. Captain Nelson agreed to sign the articles of enlistment. Our next volunteer was Mr. A. J. Mounteney Jephson, inexperienced as yet in foreign travel, and quite unaccustomed to "roughing" in wilds. On some members of the Committee Mr. Jephson made the impression that he was unfitted for an expedition of this kind, being in their opinion of too "high class." But the Countess de Noailles made a subscription in his favour to the Relief Fund of £1,000, an argument that the Committee could not resist, and Mr. Jephson signed the articles of agreement with unshaken nerves. Poor young Jephson! he emerged out of Africa after various severe trials which are herein related. One of the latest to apply, and when the list was about to be closed, was Mr. James S. Jameson. He had travelled in Mashona and Matabele lands in South Africa to collect trophies of the wild chase, to study birds, and to make sketches. He did not appear remarkably strong. We urged that, but he as quickly defended his slight appearance, and argued that as he had already spent a long time in Africa his experience disproved our fears. Besides, he was willing to subscribe £1,000 for the privilege of membership, and do faithful and loyal service, as though it was indispensable for the Expedition to employ him. Mr. Jameson was firm, and subscribed to the articles. We were in the full swing of preparations to meet the necessities of the overland march from Zanzibar, east to the Victoria Nyanza, when, as will be shown by the tenor of the following letter, it became necessary to reconsider our route. "Palais de Bruxelles, "7th January, 1887. "Dear Mr. Stanley, "The Congo State has nothing to gain by the Expedition for the relief of Emin Pasha passing through its territory. The King has suggested this road merely so as to lend your services to the Expedition, which it would be impossible for him to do were the Expedition to proceed by the Eastern coast. According to your own estimate, the Expedition proceeding by the Eastern coast would occupy about eighteen months. His Majesty considers that he would be failing in his duty towards the State were he to deprive it of your services, especially as the latter will be certainly needed before the expiration of this lapse of time. "If the Expedition proceeds by the Congo the State will promise to show it all good will. The State likewise gratuitously places at the disposal of the Expedition the whole of its naval stock, inasmuch as will allow the working arrangements of its own administration, which it is, above all, desirous of ensuring, as you know. The _Stanley_ is the largest steamer on the Upper Congo. We are forwarding a second one by the mail of the 15th inst., and we will hasten as much as possible the launching of this steamer at Stanley Pool; she will be a valuable and much-needed adjunct to our flotilla. In the meanwhile the mission steamer _Peace_ would no doubt gratuitously effect certain transports. "Should the Expedition desire it, we would facilitate the recruiting of Bangala; we are very pleased with the latter, as they are excellent soldiers, and do not fear the Arabs like the Zanzibaris. "You will have remarked that the official documents, published this week in Berlin, limit the territory of Zanzibar to a narrow strip of land along the seashore. Beyond this strip the entire territory is German. If the Germans allow the Expedition to cross their territory, the Zanzibaris would be precisely as on the Congo, on foreign soil. "With kind regards, I am, dear Mr. Stanley, "Yours very truly, "Comte de Borchgrave." That this was not a light matter to be hastily decided will be evident by the following note which was sent me by Sir William Mackinnon:-- "Western Club, Glasgow, "_January 4th, 1887_. "My dear Stanley, "I had a pleasant short letter from the King showing how anxious he is the Congo route should be taken, and how unwilling to allow a break in the continuity of your connection with the Congo State, as he considers you a pillar of the State. He asks me to banish(?) any divergent sentiments, and get all parties to agree to the Congo route. I have explained fully all that has been done and is doing, and the difficulties in the way of cancelling existing engagements, and get the authorities, home and Egyptian and the Sultan of Zanzibar, to acquiesce in making such a change. I also mentioned the great additional charge involved by sending 600 men, even if the Sultan should consent to their going from Zanzibar to the Congo and bringing them back. "I promised, however, to ascertain whether all interested in the present arrangements would agree in taking the Congo route." * * * * * In my diary of January 5th I find written briefly the heads of businesses despatched this day. As suggested by Mackinnon, who has been written to by King Leopold upon the subject of the Congo route, I saw Sir Percy Anderson, and revealed the King's desire that the Expedition should proceed _viâ_ Congo. I was requested to state what advantages the Congo route gave, and replied:-- 1st. Certainty of reaching Emin. 2nd. Transport up the Congo River by state steamers to a point 320 geographical miles from Lake Albert. 3rd. Allaying suspicion of Germans that underlying our acts were political motives. 4th. Allaying alleged fears of French Government that our Expedition would endanger the lives of French Missionaries. 5th. If French Missionaries were endangered, then English Missionaries would certainly share their fate. 6th. Greater immunity from the desertion of the Zanzibaris who were fickle in the neighbourhood of Arab settlements. Lord Iddesleigh writes me that the French ambassador has been instructed to inform him that if the Emin Pasha Relief Expedition proceeds by a route east of the Victoria Nyanza it will certainly endanger the lives of their Missionaries in Uganda. He suggests that I consider this question. Visited Admiralty, inquired of Admiral Sullivan respecting the possibility of Admiralty supplying vessel to carry Expedition to Congo. He said if Government ordered it would be easy, if not, impossible. Wrote to the King urging him to acquaint me how far his assistance would extend in transport on the Upper Congo. _January 8th._--Received letters from the King. He lays claim to my services. Offers to lend whole of his naval stock for transport except such as may be necessary for uses of administration. Wired to Mackinnon that I felt uneasy at the clause; that it was scarcely compatible with the urgency required. Colonel de Winton wrote to the same effect. Effects of Expedition are arriving by many cuts. De Winton worked with me until late in the night. _January 9th, 1887._--Colonel J. A. Grant, Colonel Sir F. de Winton, and myself sat down to consider His Majesty's letter, and finally wrote a reply requesting he would graciously respond with greater definiteness respecting quantity of transport and time for which transport vessels will be granted as so many matters depend upon quick reply, such as hire of Soudanese, detention of mail steamer for shipment of ammunition, etc. We therefore send special messenger. _January 10th, 1887._--De Winton visited Foreign Office and was promised as soon as possible to attend to the detention of mail steamer and Government transport round the Cape of Good Hope. Messrs. Gray, Dawes & Co. write Postmaster-General willing to detain Zanzibar mail steamer at Aden to wait _Navarino_, which sails from London on the 20th with the ammunition and officers. I overtake _Navarino_ at Suez after settling matters of Expedition in Egypt. _January 12th._--Answer arrived last night. Meeting was called by Honourable Guy Dawnay, Colonel Sir Lewis Pelly, Colonel Sir F. de Winton and self. The answer as regards Congo route being satisfactory was decided upon, and this has now been adopted unanimously. Was notified at 2 P.M. by the Earl of Iddesleigh that he would see me at 6 P.M. But at 3.13 P.M. the Earl died suddenly from disease of the heart. _January 13th._--Foreign office note received from Sir J. Pauncefote transmitting telegram from Sir E. Baring, also letters concerning Admiralty transport. No help from Admiralty. Goods arriving fast. Will presently fill my house. Went down with Baroness Burdett-Coutts to Guildhall, arriving there 12.45 P.M. I received Freedom of City of London, and am called youngest citizen. Afterwards lunched at Mansion House, a distinguished party present, and affair most satisfactory. Telegraphed to Brussels to know if Friday convenient to King. Reply, "Yes at 9.30 a.m." _January 14th._--Crossed over Channel last night towards Brussels _viâ_ Ostend to see King Leopold. Saw King and gave my farewell. He was very kind. Left for London in evening at 8 P.M. Telegram arrived from Sandringham requesting visit. _January 15th._--Sir Percy Anderson requested interview. Mr. Joseph Thomson at this late hour has been writing to Geographical Society wanting to go with Expedition. Arranged with Ingham to collect Congo carriers. He goes out shortly. Telegraphed Zanzibar to recall rice carriers from Mpwapwa. This will cost 2,500 rupees more. Wrote some days ago to the donor of the _Peace_ Mission Steamer on the Congo requesting loan of her for the relief of Emin Pasha. Received the following quaint reply:-- "Leeds, _January 15th, 1887_. "Dear Mr. Stanley, "I have much regard for you personally, although I cannot, dare not, sanction all your acts. "I am very sorry if I cannot give assent to your request; but I fully believe you will be no sufferer by the circumstance of not having the s.s. _Peace_. Yesterday I was able to come to a decision. "Mr. Baynes, of the Baptist Missionary Society, Holborn, will, he hopes, make to you any communication he judges proper. If you have any reverential regard for 'the Man of Sorrows,' the 'King of Peace' may He mercifully preserve and save your party. "I have no doubt of the safety of Emin--till his work is done. I believe he will be brought through this trial in perfect safety. God seems to have given you a noble soul (covers for the moment, if on your sad sin and mistakes), and I should like you should 'repent and believe the Gospel'--with real sense, and live hereafter in happiness, light, and joy--for ever. _Here_ delay in you is more dangerous than delay for Emin. "Your faithful friend, "(Signed) Robert Arthington." _January 16th._--Colonel J. A. Grant offered to arrange with Mr. J. S. Keltie, Editor of _Nature_, to discuss Mr. Thomson's offer. Letters accumulate by scores. All hands employed answering. _January 17th._--Wrote Sir Percy Anderson would call Wednesday 2 P.M. Correspondence increases. Mr. Joseph Thomson's offer discussed. Mr. J. S. Keltie is to write to him privately--decision of committee. Arranged with G. S. Mackenzie about Zanzibar matters. He despatched two telegrams. General Brackenbury wrote about coal being furnished requiring Treasury sanction. _January 18th._--Worked off morning's business. Travelled to Sandringham with Colonel de Winton to see His Royal Highness. With African map before us gave short lecture to their Royal Highnesses respecting route proposed to reach Emin Pasha. Had a very attentive audience. _January 19th._--Sir William Mackinnon mustered his friends at the Burlington Hotel at a farewell banquet to me. Have said "good-bye" to a host of friends to-day. _January 20th._--The S.S. _Navarino_ sailed this afternoon carrying goods of Expedition and officers. Lieutenant Stairs, Captain Nelson, and Mr. Mounteney Jephson. Mr. William Bonny started from my rooms with black boy Baruti to Fenchurch Station at 8 a.m. Arriving there he leaves Baruti after a while and proceeds to Tower of London! He says that returning to station at 2 P.M. he found boat had gone. He then went to Gray, Dawes & Co., shipping agents, and is discouraged to find that the matter cannot be mended. Baruti found deserted in Fenchurch Station, very hungry and cold. Colonel J. A. Grant finds him and brings him to me. _January 21st._--Dispatch Mr. Bonny by rail to Plymouth to overtake a steamer bound for India and instruct him to debark at Suez with boy and await me. Left London at 8.5 P.M. for Egypt. Quite a crowd collected to take a final shake of the hands and to bid me a kindly "God speed." ----- [A] No. 2 clashes with No. 3 somewhat. Khartoum and the Soudan are not synonymous terms. To withdraw the garrison of Khartoum is an easy task, to evacuate the Soudan is an impossibility for a single person. [B] This is the only clearly worded despatch that I have been able to find in the Blue Book of the period. [C] This route would be through Masai Land. [D] See Appendix for full statement of Receipts and Expenditure. CHAPTER II. EGYPT AND ZANZIBAR. Surgeon T. H. Parke--Views of Sir Evelyn Baring, Nubar Pasha, Professor Schweinfurth and Dr. Junker on the Emin Relief Expedition--Details relating to Emin Pasha and his Province--General Grenfell and the ammunition--Breakfast with Khedive Tewfik: message to Emin Pasha--Departure for Zanzibar--Description of Mombasa town--Visit to the Sultan of Zanzibar--Letter to Emin Pasha sent by messenger through Uganda--Arrangements with Tippu-Tib--Emin Pasha's Ivory--Mr. Mackenzie, Sir John Pender and Sir James Anderson's assistance to the Relief Expedition. _January 27th, 1887._--Arrived at Alexandria 6 A.M. Surgeon T. H. Parke of the A.M.D. came to my hotel and applied for the position of surgeon to the Expedition. It was the one vacancy not yet filled to my satisfaction. I considered it a Godsend, though I appeared distant, as I had had two most unpleasant experiences with medical men, both of whom were crotchetty, and inconsistent in England. An extremely handsome young gentleman--diffident somewhat--but very prepossessing. To try if he were in earnest I said, "If you care to follow me to Cairo, I will talk further with you. I have not the time to argue with you here." Left Alexandria at 10 A.M. for Cairo. At the station I met Sir Evelyn Baring, whom I had read of in Gordon's journals. We drove to Sir Evelyn's house and was told in his straightforward and clearest manner that there was a hitch somewhere. The Khedive and Nubar Pasha, the Prime Minister, were doubtful as to the wisdom of the Congo route. Professor Schweinfurth and Dr. Junker had both been struck with consternation, and by their manner had expressed that the idea was absurd. "Well, Sir Evelyn," I said, "do you not think that there are as clever men in England as Messrs. Schweinfurth and Junker? On the Relief Committee we have Colonel James Augustus Grant--companion of Speke. Colonel Sir Francis de Winton, late Administrator General of the Congo, Colonel Sir Lewis Pelly--late Political Agent at Zanzibar, the Honourable Guy Dawnay of the War Office, Sir John Kirk--late Consul-General at Zanzibar, the Rev. Horace Waller and several other distinguished and level-headed men. Nothing has been settled without the concurrence and assent of the Foreign Office. We have considered everything, and I have come thus far resolved to carry the project out as the committee and myself have agreed." [Illustration: SURGEON PARKE, A. M. D.] And then I gave Sir Evelyn the pros and cons of the routes, which satisfied him. We then drove to the Prime Minister, Nubar Pasha, and the same explanations had to be entered into with him. Nubar, with a kindly benevolent smile, deferred to Sir Evelyn's superior judgment. Nubar assented to the wisdom and discretion of the change, and as a reward I was invited to breakfast for the morrow. [Illustration: NUBAR PASHA.] _January 28th_, Cairo.--I breakfasted with Nubar Pasha. He introduced me to Mason Bey--the circumnavigator of Lake Albert in 1877, Madame Nubar and three daughters, Tigrane Pasha, his son-in-law, Mr. Fane, formerly Secretary of Legation at Brussels. During breakfast Nubar Pasha conversed upon many things, principally Egypt, Soudan, Africa and Gordon. Of Gordon he is clearly no admirer. He accredits the loss of the Soudan to him. His views of Baker were that he was a fighter--an eager pioneer--a man of great power. Showed map to Nubar after breakfast. He examined the various routes carefully, and was convinced the Congo route was the best. He proposes to write instructions to Emin to return to Egypt on the ground that Egypt cannot afford to retain the Soudan under present circumstances. He permits us the use of the Egyptian Flag as the banner of the Expedition. He says he would like to see Emin return with as much ivory as possible and bringing his Makrakas with him. Should any ivory be brought out he will lay claim to some of the money on behalf of the Egyptian Government--because of the £10,000 furnished by it. Uniforms are being ordered for Emin Pasha and principal officers, for which the Relief Fund will have to pay. Rank and pay due to each officer assured. I saw Schweinfurth and Junker, who have been considered experts here, and I have had a long and interesting conversation, the pith of which I here embody. Schweinfurth and Junker, it seems, had formed the curious idea that because the Expedition was to be armed with several hundred Remingtons and a machine gun of the latest invention, it was to be an offensive force conducted after strict military rules. If they had reflected at all the very title of the Expedition ought to have warned them that they were astray; the character of the people who subscribed the major portion of the fund ought to have still more assured them that their conception of the Expedition was wide of the mark. It is the relief of Emin Pasha that is the object of the Expedition, the said relief consisting of ammunition in sufficient quantity to enable him to withdraw from his dangerous position in Central Africa in safety, or to hold his own if he decides to do so for such length of time as he may see fit. Considering the quality of the escort, being mainly Zanzibaris or freed slaves, it would be rash to expect too much from them. It is already known in Zanzibar that Uganda is hostile, that Mwanga massacred some sixty of the followers of Bishop Hannington, that the Masai route has its dangers, that Karagwé is tributary to Mwanga, that the Wahha are numerous and aggressive, that Ruanda has never yet been penetrated, that beyond a certain line whether on the Masai route or the Karagwé route there is certain danger; and no matter with what cheerfulness they would assert at Zanzibar their readiness to defy all and every belligerent, African travellers remember how weak they are proved to be when in actual presence of danger. Assuming, however, that this band of 600 Zanzibaris were faithful, consider their inexperience of these new rifles, their wild, aimless, harmless firing, their want of discipline and tone, their disposition to be horrified at sight of the effects of fighting--remember that in reality they are only porters and do not pretend to be warriors--and you will see how very unequal such men are to the duties of defending munitions of war in the face of an enemy. It was only by stratagem that I secured their services for the desperate work of discovering the issue of the great river along which we had travelled with Tippu-Tib, when that now famous Arab deserted me in mid-Africa. It was only that there were no other means of escape that enabled me with their help to obtain a quiet retreat from savage Ituru. In many other instances they proved that when menaced with instant death they could be utilized to assist in the preservation of their own lives; but to expect them to march faithfully forward to court the dangers of fighting with the seductions of Unyamwezi and Zanzibar in their rear would be too much. In this Expedition we cannot turn aside as formerly in presence of a pronounced hostility and seek more peaceful countries; but our objective point must be reached, and risk must be run, and the ammunition must be deposited at the feet of Emin Pasha. Therefore to arm these people with Remingtons or machine guns is not enough--you must cut off their means of retreat, allow no avenue of escape--then they will stand together like men, and we may expect the object of the Expedition to be attained, even if we have now and again to meet bows and spears or guns. Regarding Emin Pasha my information is various. From Dr. Junker I learn that Emin Pasha is tall,[E] thin and exceedingly short-sighted; that he is a great linguist, Turkish, Arabic, German, French, Italian and English being familiar to him; to these languages may be added a few of the African dialects. He does not seem to have impressed Junker with his fighting qualities, though as an administrator, he is sagacious, tactful and prudent. His long isolation seems to have discouraged him. He says, "Egypt does not care for us and has forgotten us; Europe takes no interest in what we do." He is German by birth, and is about forty-seven years old. His force is distributed among eight stations, from 200 to 300 men in each, say about 1,800 in all. The garrisons of the four northernmost stations were discontented and mutinous at last accounts. They answered Emin's advice to consolidate with reproaches; his suggestions that they should all withdraw from the equatorial province _via_ Zanzibar, were responded to by accusations that he intended only to sell them to Zanzibar as slaves. Junker cannot give an exact figure of the force itself, or of the Egyptians or clerks or Dongolese with Emin, but being questioned closely as to details replied that the approximate number of those likely to return with the Expedition would be as follows:-- White Egyptian Officers, 10; non-commissioned (black), 15; white clerks (Copts), 20; blacks from Dongola, Wady Halfa, etc., 300, =men 345, White-women, 22; blackwomen, 137, =women 159, children of officers, 40; soldiers' children, 60=children 100=Total 604. [Illustration: THE KHEDIVE TEWFIK.] Besides these the native troops on perceiving a general withdrawal, may also desire to return with their friends and comrades to Egypt. It is impossible to state what may be the effect on their minds of the appearance of the Relief Expedition. The decision of Emin Pasha, to remain or withdraw, will probably influence the majority. I expect my men from Wady Halfa to be here this afternoon. They will be armed, equipped and rationed at the Citadel, and on Thursday will accompany me to Suez. The _Navarino_ is supposed to arrive at Suez the day following, when we will embark and be off. Received telegrams from London. Reports from a well-known person at Cairo has reached newspapers that Emin Pasha had fought his way through Uganda after some desperate struggles, and that the Egyptian Government had placed difficulty in way of Expedition. Replied that such facts were unknown in Cairo. _February 1st._--Saw Sir Evelyn Baring at 10.45 A.M. Accompanied him to Khedive Tewfik. His Highness is most amiable and good-looking. Fine palace within, abundance of room, a host of attendants, &c. Am invited to breakfast with Khedive at noon to-morrow. Taken later by Sir Evelyn to General Grenfell's office respecting suggestion made to me last night, at General Stephenson's by Valentine Baker Pasha, that I must assure myself that the Remington ammunition furnished by Egyptian Government was sound, as his experience of it was that 50 per cent. was bad. "You must think then" said he, "if the ammunition is so poor already what it will be about a year hence when you meet Emin, after humidity of tropics." General Grenfell said he had already tested the ammunition, and would make another trial, since Valentine Baker Pasha entertained such an opinion of it. _February 2nd._--Breakfast with Khedive Tewfik. He protests his patriotism, and loves his country. He is certainly most unaffected and genial. Before leaving Khedive, the following Firman or High Order, was given to me open with the English translation. Translation. _Copy of a High Arabic Order to Emin Pasha, dated 8th, Gamad Awal 1304, (1st February, 1887. No. 3)._ "We have already thanked you and your officers for the plucky and successful defence of the Egyptian Equatorial provinces entrusted to your charge, and for the firmness you have shown with your fellow-officers under your command. And we therefore have rewarded you in raising your rank to that of Lewa Pasha (Brigadier-General). We have also approved the ranks you thought necessary to give to the officers under your charge. As I have already written to you on the 29 November, 1886, No. 31, and it must have reached you with other documents sent by His Excellency Nubar Pasha, President of the Council of Ministers. And, since it is our sincerest desire to relieve you with your officers and soldiers from the difficult position you are in, our Government have made up their mind in the manner by which you may be relieved with officers and soldiers from your troubles. And as a mission for the relief has been formed under the command of Mr. Stanley, the famous and experienced African Explorer, whose reputation is well known throughout the world; and as he intends to set out on his Expedition with all the necessary provisions for you so that he may bring you here with officers and men to Cairo, by the route which Mr. Stanley may think proper to take. Consequently we have issued this High Order to you, and it is sent to you by the hand of Mr. Stanley to let you know what has been done, and as soon as it will reach you, I charge you to convey my best wishes to the officers and men--and you are at full liberty with regard to your leaving for Cairo or your stay there with officers and men. Our Government has given a decision for paying your salaries with that of the officers and men. Those who wish to stay there from the officers and men they may do it on their own responsibility, and they may not expect any assistance from the Government. Try to understand the contents well, and make it well-known to all the officers and men, that they may be aware of what they are going to do. (Signed) Mehemet Tewfik." In the evening Tigrane Pasha brought to me Nubar Pasha's--the Prime Minister--letter of recall to Emin. It was read to me and then sealed. We stand thus, then; Junker does not think Emin will abandon the Province; the English subscribers to the fund hope he will not, but express nothing; they leave it to Emin to decide; the English Government would prefer that he would retire, as his Province under present circumstances is almost inaccessible, and certainly he, so far removed, is a cause of anxiety. The Khedive sends the above order for Emin to accept of our escort, but says, "You may do as you please. If you decline our proffered aid you are not to expect further assistance from the Government." Nubar Pasha's letter conveys the wishes of the Egyptian Government which are in accordance with those of the English Government, as expressed by Sir Evelyn Baring. _February 3rd._--Left Cairo for Suez. At the station to wish me success were Sir Evelyn and Lady Baring, Generals Stephenson, Grenfell, Valentine Baker, Abbaté Pasha, Professor Schweinfurth and Dr. Junker. The latter and sixty-one soldiers (Soudanese) from Wady Haifa accompanied me. At Zagazig, Surgeon T. H. Parke, now an enrolled member of the Expedition, joined me. At Ismailia our party were increased by Giegler Pasha. At Suez met Mr. James S. Jameson, the naturalist of the Expedition. Mr. Bonny of the Hospital Staff Corps, and Baruti, will arrive to-morrow per _Garonne_ of the Orient line. _February 6th._--Breakfasted with Captain Beyts, Agent of the British India Steam Navigation Company. At 2 P.M. Capt. Beyts embarked with us on board _Rob Roy_, a new steamer just built for him, and we steamed out to the Suez harbour where the _Navarino_ from London is at anchor. At 5 P.M., after friendly wishes from Captain Beyts and my good friend Dr. Junker, to whom I had become greatly attached for the real worth in him, the _Navarino_ sailed for Aden. _February 8th._--Weather grows warm. Ther. Fah. 74° at 8 A.M. in Captain's cabin. My European servant asked me if this was the Red Sea through which we were sailing. "Yes," I replied. "Well, sir, it looks more like a black sea than a red one," was his profound remark. _February 12th._--Reached Aden at 2 A.M. We now change steamers. _Navarino_ proceeds to Bombay. The B.I.S.N. steamer _Oriental_ takes us to Zanzibar. On board the latter steamer we met Major Barttelot. Cabled to Zanzibar following:-- "Mackenzie, Zanzibar. "Your telegram very gratifying. Please engage twenty young lads as officers' servants at lower rate than men. We leave to-day with eight Europeans, sixty-one Soudanese, two Syrians, thirteen Somalis. Provision transport steamer accordingly." The first-class passengers include self, Barttelot, Stairs, Jephson, Nelson, Parke, Bonny, Count Pfeil, and two German companions bound for Rufiji River. _February 19th._--Arrived off Lamu at 3 P.M. Soon after S.S. _Baghdad_ came in with Dr. Lenz, the Austrian traveller, who had started to proceed to Emin Bey, but failing, came across to Zanzibar instead. He is on his way home. Having failed in his purpose, he will blame Africa and abuse the Congo especially. It is natural with all classes to shift the blame on others, and I feel assured Lenz will be no exception. _February 20th._--Arrived at Mombasa. Was told that a great battle had been fought lately between the Gallas and Somalis. The former are for the Germans, the latter are declared enemies to them. We also hear that Portugal has declared war against Zanzibar, or something like it. Best place for commercial depot is on right hand of northern entrance, first point within harbour; it is bluffy, dips sheer down into deep water, with timber floated along base of bluff, and long-armed derricks on edge of bluff, steamers might be unloaded and loaded with ease. Cocoa-nut palms abundant. Good view of sea from it. If Mombasa becomes an English port--as I hope it will shortly--the best position of new town would be along face of bluff fronting seaward on island just where old Portuguese port is; a light railway and some draught mules would land on train all goods from harbour. _February 22nd._--Arrived at Zanzibar. Acting Consul-General Holmwood warmly proffered hospitality. Instructed officers to proceed on board our transport, B.I.S.N. Co. _Madura_, and to take charge of Somalis and Soudanese, and Mackenzie to disembark forty donkeys and saddles from _Madura_--route being changed there was no need for so many animals. Received compliments from the Sultan of Zanzibar; visits from the famous Tippu-Tib, Jaffar, son of Tarya Topan, his agent, and Kanji the Vakeel of Tarya. Zanzibar is somewhat changed during my eight years' absence. There is a telegraphic cable, a tall clock-tower, a new Sultan's palace, very lofty and conspicuous, with wide verandahs. The Custom House has been enlarged. General Lloyd Mathews has new barracks for his Military Police; the promenade to Fiddler's grave has been expanded into a broad carriage-way, which extends to Sultan's house beyond Mbwenni. There are horses and carriages, and steam-rollers, and lamp-posts, at convenient distances, serve to bear oil-lamps to light the road when His Highness returns to city from a country jaunt. There are six German war-vessels in port, under Admiral Knorr, H.B.M.S. _Turquoise_ and _Reindeer_, ten merchant steamers, and a few score of Arab dhows, Baggalas, Kanjehs, and boats. _February 23rd._--Paid what is called a State visit to His Highness. As a special mark of honour the troops, under stout General Lloyd Mathews, were drawn up in two lines, about 300 yards in length. A tolerable military band saluted us with martial strains, while several hundreds of the population were banked behind the soldiers. The most frequent words I heard as I passed through with Consul Holmwood were: "Ndio huyu"--"Yes, it is he!" by which I gathered that scattered among the crowds must have been a large number of my old followers, pointing me out to their friends. State visits are nearly always alike. The "Present arms!" by General Mathews, the martial strains, the large groups of the superior Arabs at the hall porch, the ascent up the lofty flights of stairs--the Sultan at the head of the stairs--the grave bow, the warm clasp, the salutation word, the courteous wave of the hand to enter, the slow march towards the throne--another ceremonious inclination all round--the Prince taking his seat, which intimates we may follow suit, the refreshments of sherbet after coffee, and a few remarks about Europe, and our mutual healths. Then the ceremonious departure, again the strains of music,--Mathews' sonorous voice at "Present arms!" and we retire from the scene to doff our London dress-suits, and pack them up with camphor to preserve them from moths, until we return from years of travel "Through the Dark Continent" and from "Darkest Africa." In the afternoon, paid the business visit, first presenting the following letter:-- "To His Highness Seyyid Barghash bin Said, "Sultan of Zanzibar. "Burlington Hotel, "Old Burlington Street, London, W. "_28th January, 1887._ "Your Highness, "I cannot allow another mail to pass without writing to express to you my grateful appreciation of the kindly response you made to my telegram in regard to assisting the Expedition, which proceeds under the leadership of Mr. H. M. Stanley to relieve Emin Pasha. The cordiality with which you instructed your officers to assist in selecting the best men available is indeed a most important service to the Expedition, and I have reason to know that it has given great satisfaction in England. Mr. Stanley will reach Zanzibar in about four weeks. He is full of enthusiasm as the leader of his interesting Expedition, and his chief reasons for selecting the Congo route are that he may be able to convey the men your Highness has so kindly assisted him in procuring without fatigue or risk by sea to the Congo, and up the river in boats in comparative comfort, and they will arrive within 350 miles of their destination fresh and vigorous instead of being worn out and jaded by the fatigue of a long march inland. His services will be entirely devoted to the Expedition during its progress, and he cannot deviate from its course to perform service for the Congo State. "It is probable also he will return by the east coast land route, and as I know him to be deeply interested in your Highness's prosperity and welfare, I am sure if he can render any service to Your Highness during his progress back to the coast, he will do so most heartily. I have had many conversations with him, and have always found him most friendly to Your Highness's interests, and I believe also the confidence of our mutual good friend. I pray you in these circumstances to communicate freely with Mr. Stanley on all points--as freely as if I had the honour of being there to receive the communications myself. "With the repeated assurance of my hearty sympathy in all the affairs that concern Your Highness's interests. "I remain, "Your very obedient servant and friend, "W. Mackinnon." We then entered heartily into our business; how absolutely necessary it was that he should promptly enter into an agreement with the English within the limits assigned by Anglo-German treaty. It would take too long to describe the details of the conversation, but I obtained from him the answer needed. "Please God we shall agree. When you have got the papers ready we shall read and sign without further delay and the matter will be over." At night, wrote the following letter to Emin Pasha, for transmission to-morrow by couriers overland, who will travel through Uganda into Unyoro secretly. "To His Excellency Emin Pasha, "Governor of the Equatorial Provinces. "H. B. Majesty's Consulate, Zanzibar. "_February 23rd, 1887._ "Dear Sir, "I have the honour to inform you that the Government of His Highness the Khedive of Egypt, upon the receipt of your urgent letters soliciting aid and instructions, have seen fit to depute me to equip an Expedition to proceed to Wadelai to convey such aid as they think you require, and to assist you in other ways agreeably with the written instructions which have been delivered to me for you. "Having been pretty accurately informed of the nature of your necessities from the perusal of your letters to the Egyptian Government, the Expedition has been equipped in such a manner as may be supposed to meet all your wants. As you will gather from the letters of His Highness and the Prime Minister of Egypt to you, and which I bring with me, all that could possibly be done to satisfy your needs has been done most heartily. From the translation of the letters delivered to me, I perceive that they will give you immense satisfaction. Over sixty soldiers from Wady Halfa have been detailed to accompany me in order that they may be able to encourage the soldiers under your command, and confirm the letters. We also march under the Egyptian standard. "The Expedition includes 600 Zanzibari natives, and probably as many Arab followers from Central Africa. "We sail to-morrow from Zanzibar to the Congo, and by the 18th June next we hope to be at the head of navigation on the Upper Congo. From the point where we debark to the southern end of Lake Albert is a distance of 320 miles in a straight line, say 500 miles by road, which will probably occupy us fifty days to march to the south-western or southern end, in the neighbourhood of Kavalli. "If your steamers are in that neighbourhood, you will be able to leave word perhaps at Kavalli, or in its neighbourhood, informing me of your whereabouts. "The reasons which have obliged me to adopt this route for the conveyance of your stores are various, but principally political. I am also impressed with the greater security of that route and the greater certainty of success attending the venture with less trouble to the Expedition and less annoyance to the natives. Mwanga is a formidable opponent to the south and south-east. The Wakedi and other warlike natives to the eastward of Fatiko oppose a serious obstacle, the natives of Kishakka and Ruanda have never permitted strangers to enter their country. En route I do not anticipate much trouble, because there are no powerful chiefs in the Congo basin capable of interrupting our march. "Besides abundance of ammunition for your needs, official letters from the Egyptian Government, a heavy mail from your numerous friends and admirers, I bring with me personal equipments for yourself and officers suitable to the rank of each. "Trusting that I shall have the satisfaction of finding you well and safe, and that nothing will induce you to rashly venture your life and liberty in the neighbourhood of Uganda, without the ample means of causing yourself and men to be respected which I am bringing to you, "I beg you to believe me, "Yours very faithfully, "(Signed) Henry M. Stanley." _February 24th and 25th._--On arriving at Zanzibar, I found our Agent, Mr. Edmund Mackenzie, had managed everything so well that the Expedition was almost ready for embarkation. The steamer _Madura_, of the British India Steam Navigation Company, was in harbour, provisioned and watered for the voyage. The goods for barter, and transport animals, were on board. There were a few things to be done, however--such as arranging with the famous Tippu-Tib about our line of conduct towards one another. Tippu-Tib is a much greater man to-day than he was in the year 1877, when he escorted my caravan, preliminary to our descent down the Congo. He has invested his hard-earned fortune in guns and powder. Adventurous Arabs have flocked to his standard, until he is now an uncrowned king of the region between Stanley Falls and Tanganika Lake, commanding many thousands of men inured to fighting and wild Equatorial life. If I discovered hostile intentions, my idea was to give him a wide berth; for the ammunition I had to convey to Emin Pasha, if captured and employed by him, would endanger the existence of the infant State of the Congo, and imperil all our hopes. Between Tippu-Tib and Mwanga, King of Uganda, there was only a choice of the frying-pan and the fire. Tippu-Tib was the Zubehr of the Congo Basin--just as formidable if made an enemy, as the latter would have been at the head of his slaves. Between myself and Gordon there had to be a difference in dealing with our respective Zubehrs; mine had no animus against me personally; my hands were free, and my movements unfettered. Therefore, with due caution, I sounded Tippu-Tib on the first day, and found him fully prepared for any eventuality--to fight me, or be employed by me. I chose the latter, and we proceeded to business. His aid was not required to enable me to reach Emin Pasha, or to show the road. There are four good roads to Wadelai from the Congo; one of them was in Tippu-Tib's power, the remaining three are clear of him and his myriads. But Dr. Junker informed me that Emin Pasha possessed about 75 tons of ivory. So much ivory would amount to £60,000, at 8_s_. per lb. The subscription of Egypt to the Emin Pasha Fund is large for her depressed finance. In this quantity of ivory we had a possible means of recouping her Treasury--with a large sum left towards defraying expenses, and perhaps leaving a handsome present for the Zanzibari survivors. Why not attempt the carriage of this ivory to the Congo? Accordingly, I wished to engage Tippu-Tib and his people to assist me in conveying the ammunition to Emin Pasha, and on return to carry this ivory. After a good deal of bargaining I entered into a contract with him, by which he agreed to supply 600 carriers at £6 per loaded head--each round trip from Stanley Falls to Lake Albert and back. Thus, if each carrier carries 70 lbs. weight of ivory, one round trip will bring to the Fund £13,200 nett at Stanley Falls. On the conclusion of this contract, which was entered into in presence of the British Consul-General, I broached another subject in the name of His Majesty King Leopold with Tippu-Tib. Stanley Falls station was established by me in December 1883. Various Europeans have since commanded this station, and Mr. Binnie and Lieut. Wester of the Swedish Army had succeeded in making it a well-ordered and presentable station. Captain Deane, his successor, quarrelled with the Arabs, and at his forced departure from the scene set fire to the station. The object for which the station was established was the prevention of the Arabs from pursuing their devastating career below the Falls, not so much by force as by tact, or rather the happy combination of both. By the retreat of the officers of the State from Stanley Falls, the floodgates were opened and the Arabs pressed down river. Tippu-Tib being of course the guiding spirit of the Arabs west of Tanganika Lake, it was advisable to see how far his aid might be secured to check this stream of Arabs from destroying the country. After the interchange of messages by cable with Brussels--on the second day of my stay at Zanzibar--I signed an engagement with Tippu-Tib by which he was appointed Governor of Stanley Falls at a regular salary, paid monthly at Zanzibar, into the British Consul-General's hands. His duties will be principally to defend Stanley Falls in the name of the State against all Arabs and natives. The flag of the station will be that of the State. At all hazards he is to defeat and capture all persons raiding territory for slaves, and to disperse all bodies of men who may be justly suspected of violent designs. He is to abstain from all slave traffic below the Falls himself, and to prevent all in his command trading in slaves. In order to ensure a faithful performance of his engagement with the State, an European officer is to be appointed Resident at the Falls. On the breach of any article in the contract being reported, the salary is to cease. Meantime, while I was engaged with these negotiations, Mr. Mackenzie had paid four months' advance pay--$12,415--to 620 men and boys enlisted in the Relief Expedition, and as fast as each batch of fifty men was satisfactorily paid, a barge was hauled alongside and the men were duly embarked, and a steam launch towed the barge to the transport. By 5 P.M. all hands were aboard, and the steamer moved off to a more distant anchorage. By midnight Tippu-Tib and his people and every person connected with the Expedition was on board, and at daybreak next day, the 25th February, the anchor was lifted, and we steamed away towards the Cape of Good Hope. So far there had not been a hitch in any arrangement. Difficulties had been smoothed as if by magic. Everybody had shown the utmost sympathy, and been prompt with the assistance required. The officers of the Expedition were kept fully employed from morning to evening at laborious tasks connected with the repacking of the ammunition for Emin Pasha's force. Before concluding these entries, I ought to mention the liberal assistance rendered to the Relief Expedition by Sir John Pender, K.C.M.G., and the Eastern Telegraph Company. All my telegrams from Egypt, Aden and Zanzibar, amounting in the aggregate to several hundred words were despatched free, and as each word from Zanzibar to Europe ordinarily costs eight shillings per word, some idea of the pecuniary value of the favour conferred may be obtained. On my return from Africa this great privilege was again granted, and as I received a score of cablegrams per day for several days, and answers were expected, I should speedily have paid dearly for the fortunate rescue of Emin Pasha, and most probably my stirring career had ended in the Bankruptcy Court had not Sir John Pender and Sir James Anderson quickly reassured me. Among the contributors to the Relief Fund to a very generous amount I therefore may fairly place the names of Sir John Pender and Sir James Anderson in behalf of the Eastern Telegraph Company. I should also state that they were prepared to lend me the Telegraph steamer at Zanzibar to convey my force of carriers and soldiers to the Congo had there been any difficulty in the way of engaging the B.I.S.N. Company's s.s. _Madura_. ----- [E] We consequently bade the tailor make long pantaloons, and they were quite six inches too long. CHAPTER III. BY SEA TO THE CONGO RIVER. The Sultan of Zanzibar--Tippu-Tib and Stanley Falls--On board s.s. _Madura_--"Shindy" between the Zanzibaris and Soudanese--Sketches of my various officers--Tippu-Tib and Cape Town--Arrival at the mouth of the Congo River--Start up the Congo--Visit from two of the Executive Committee of the Congo State--Unpleasant thoughts. The following private letter to a friend will explain some things of general interest:-- SS. _Madura_, March 9th, 1887, Near Cape of Good Hope. My dear ----, Apart from the Press letters which are to be published for the benefit of the Relief Fund, and which will contain all that the public ought to know just now, I shall have somewhat to say to you and other friends. The Sultan of Zanzibar received me with unusual kindness, much of which I owe to the introduction of Mr. William Mackinnon and Sir John Kirk. He presented me with a fine sword, a shirazi blade I should say, richly mounted with gold, and a magnificent diamond ring, which quite makes Tippu-Tib's eyes water. With the sword is the golden belt of His Highness, the clasp of which bears his name in Arabic. It will be useful as a sign, if I come before Arabs, of the good understanding between the Prince and myself; and if I reach the Egyptian officers, some of whom are probably illiterate, they must accept the sword as a token that we are not traders. You will have seen by the papers that I have taken with me sixty-one soldiers--Soudanese. My object has been to enable them to speak for me to the Soudanese of Equatoria. The Egyptians may affect to disbelieve firmans and the writing of Nubar, in which case these Soudanese will be pushed forward as living witnesses of my commission. [Illustration: PORTRAIT OF TIPPU-TIB.] I have settled several little commissions at Zanzibar satisfactorily. One was to get the Sultan to sign the concessions which Mackinnon tried to obtain a long time ago. As the Germans have magnificent territory east of Zanzibar, it was but fair that England should have some portion for the protection she has accorded to Zanzibar since 1841. The Germans appeared to have recognized this, as you may see by the late Anglo-German Agreement. France had already obtained an immense area in West Africa. All the world had agreed to constitute the domain of King Leopold, on which he had spent a million sterling, as the Independent State of the Congo. Portugal, which is a chronic grumbler, and does little, and that little in a high-handed, illiberal manner, has also been graciously considered by the European Powers; but England, which had sent out her explorers, Livingstone, Burton, Speke, Grant, Baker, Keith Johnston, Thomson, Elton, &c., had obtained nothing, and probably no people had taken such interest in the Dark Continent, or had undergone such sacrifices in behalf of the aborigines, as the English. Her cruisers for the last twenty years had policed the ocean along the coast to suppress slave-catching; her missions were twenty-two in number, settled between East and West Africa. This concession that we wished to obtain embraced a portion of the East African coast, of which Mombasa and Melindi were the principal towns. For eight years, to my knowledge, the matter had been placed before His Highness, but the Sultan's signature was difficult to obtain. Arriving at Zanzibar, I saw the Sultan was aging, and that he had not long to live.[F] Englishmen could not invest money in the reserved "sphere of influence" until some such concessions were signed. "Please God," said the Sultan, "we shall agree; there will be no further doubt about the matter." But his political anxieties are wearing him fast, and unless this matter is soon completed it will be too late. The other affair was with Tippu-Tib. He had actually in his possession three Krupp shells, unloaded, which he had brought with him from Stanley Falls, on the Upper Congo, to Zanzibar, to exhibit to his friends as the kind of missiles which the Belgians pelted his settlements with--and he was exceedingly wroth, and nourished a deep scheme of retaliation. It took me some time to quiet his spasms of resentment. People very furious must be allowed time to vent their anger. When he had poured out his indignation some time, I quietly asked him if he had finished, saying, in a bland way, that I knew well how great and powerful he was, etc., and I told him that it was scarcely fair to blame all the Europeans and King Leopold because an officer at Stanley Falls had been pleased to heave Krupp shells at his settlements; that this trouble had been caused by the excess of zeal of one man in defending a slave woman who had sought his protection, in the same way that Rashid, his nephew, had been carried away by the fury of youth to defend his rights. The Governor of the Congo State was absent nearly 1500 miles down the river, and Tippu-Tib, the owner of the settlements, was several hundred miles eastward on the way to Zanzibar. Now I look upon this affair as the result of a match between one young white man and a young Arab. The gray heads are absent who would have settled the trouble without fighting: youths are always "on their muscle," you know. "Do you know," I continued, "that that station has given us a great deal of trouble. We sent Amelot, you remember. Well, he just left the station without orders, and died somewhere near Nyangwé; then the next, Gleerup, a Swede, followed suit, and travelled across Africa instead; then we sent Deane, and for a change he would have war with the Arabs. King Leopold is not to blame for all this. It is a difficult thing to get men who are always wise, and understand thoroughly what their orders are. If King Leopold had sent Deane to fight you, he would not have sent him with thirty men, you may be sure." Now, look here. He proposes that you try your hand at governing that station. He will pay you every month what he would pay an European officer. There are certain little conditions that you must comply with before you become Governor. Tippu-Tib opened his eyes and snapped them rapidly, as his custom is, and asked, "Me?" "Yes, you. You like money; I offer you money. You have a grudge against white men being there. Well, if you do your work rightly there will be no need for any white men, except him whom we shall have to place under you, to see that the conditions are not broken." "Well, what are they?" "You must hoist the flag of the State. You must allow a Resident to be with you, who will write your reports to the King. You must neither trade in slaves, nor allow anybody else to trade in them below Stanley Falls. Nor must there be any slave-catching; you understand. Such trade as you make in ivory, gums, rubber, cattle, and anything else, you may do as much as you please. But there is to be no pillaging native property of any description whatever below your station. A monthly allowance will be paid into the hands of your Agent at Zanzibar. Don't answer right away. Go and discuss it with your friends, and think of what I offer you. My ship sails on the third day. Give me your answer to-morrow." A favourable answer was given, a proper agreement was drawn up before the Consul-General, and we both signed. I made another agreement with him about the engagement of carriers to carry ammunition to Lake Albert from the Congo. If there is no ivory I shall be indebted to Tippu-Tib for the sum of £3,600. But there must be some, as both Emin Pasha and Dr. Junker declare there is a large store of it. At the same time I shall not risk the Expedition for the sake of the ivory. In consideration of these services which Tippu-Tib has solemnly contracted to perform, I permitted him free passage for himself and ninety-six of his kinsmen from Zanzibar to the Congo, with board included. I also undertook the responsibility of conveying the entire party safely to Stanley Falls, thus incurring not a small expense, but which if faithfully performed will be amply paid for by the services mentioned in the articles of agreement. These negotiations with Tippu-Tib also ensure for us a peaceful march from the Congo through his territory, a thing that would have been by no means possible without him--as his various hordes of raiders will be widely scattered throughout the region; and it is scarcely likely that we should be allowed to pass in peace, resenting, as they must naturally do, their late rupture with Deane. Having bound Tippu-Tib to me I feel somewhat safe against that constant fear of desertion of the Zanzibaris. No Arab will now persuade the people to desert, as is their custom when a white man's Expedition passes near their settlements. Tippu-Tib dare not countenance such proceedings in this case. The _Madura_ is a comfortable steamer. On the _Oriental_ and _Navarino_ we were uncomfortably crowded. Tween decks abreast of the boilers is rather a hot place for the people; but we have had agreeable weather, and the men have preferred to stow themselves in the boats, and among the donkeys, and on deck, to the baking heat below. Two hours from Zanzibar, what is called a "shindy" took place between the Zanzibaris and Soudanese. For a short time it appeared as though we should have to return to Zanzibar with many dead and wounded. It rose from a struggle for room. The Soudanese had been located directly in the way of the Zanzibaris, who, being ten times more numerous, required breathing space. They were all professed Moslems, but no one thought of their religion as they seized upon firewood and pieces of planking to batter and bruise each other. The battle had raged some time before I heard of it. As I looked down the hatchway the sight was fearful--blood freely flowed down a score of faces, and ugly pieces of firewood flew about very lively. A command could not be heard in that uproar, and some of us joined in with shillelaghs, directing our attacks upon the noisiest. It required a mixture of persuasiveness and sharp knocks to reduce the fractious factions to order, especially with the Soudanese minority, who are huge fellows. The Soudanese were marched out of their place and located aft, and the Zanzibaris had all the forward half of the ship to themselves. After we had wiped the blood and perspiration away I complimented the officers, especially Jephson, Nelson, and Bonny, for their share in the fray. They had behaved most gallantly. The result of the scrimmage is ten broken arms, fifteen serious gashes with spears on the face and head, and contusions on shoulders and backs not worth remark, and several abrasions of the lower limbs. Surgeon Parke has been very busy vaccinating the entire community on board ship. Fortunately I had procured a large supply of lymph for this purpose, because of the harsh experience of the past. We also divided the people into seven companies of about ninety men each. I have ordered my Agent to send me 200 loads of various goods to meet the Expedition at Msalala, south end of Lake Victoria. They will be sent about October or November, 1887, arriving at Msalala in February or March, 1888, because if everything proceeds as I should wish, we shall be somewhere near there not very long after that date. * * * * * I have been in the company of my officers since I left Aden, and I have been quietly observing them. I will give you a sketch of them as they appear to me now. Barttelot is a little too eager, and will have to be restrained. There is abundance of work in him, and this quality would be most lovely if it were always according to orders. The most valuable man to me would be he who had Barttelot's spirit and "go" in him, and who could come and ask if such and such a work ought to be done. Such a course suggests thoughtfulness and willingness, besides proper respect. There is a great deal in Mounteney Jephson, though he was supposed to be effeminate. He is actually fierce when roused, and his face becomes dangerously set and fixed. I noted him during the late battle aboard, and I came near crying out "Bravo, Jephson!" though I had my own stick, "big as a mast," as the Zanzibaris say, to wield. It was most gallant and plucky. He will be either made or marred if he is with this Expedition long enough. Captain Nelson is a fine fellow, and without the ghost of a hobby: he is the same all round, and at all hours. Stairs, of the Royal Engineers, is a splendid fellow, painstaking, ready, thoughtful, and industrious, and is an invaluable addition to our staff. Jameson is still the nice fellow we saw; there is not an atom of change in him. He is sociable and good. Bonny is the soldier. He is not initiative. He seems to have been under a martinet's drill. * * * * * _March 16th, 1887._ At Cape Town, Tippu-Tib, after remarking the prosperity and business stir of the city, and hearing its history from me, said that he formerly had thought all white men to be fools. "Really," I said; "Why?" "That was my opinion." "Indeed! and what do you think of them now?" I asked. "I think they have something in them, and that they are more enterprising than Arabs." "What makes you think so, particularly now?" "Well, myself and kinsmen have been looking at this town, these big ships and piers, and we have thought how much better all these things appear compared to Zanzibar, which was captured from the Portuguese before this town was built, and I have been wondering why we could not have done as well as you white people. I begin to think you must be very clever." "If you have discovered so much, Tippu-Tib, you are on the high road to discover more. The white men require a deal of study before you can quite make them out. It is a pity you never went to England for a visit." "I hope to go there before I die." "Be faithful to us on this long journey, and I will take you there, and you will see more things than you can dream of now." "Inshallah! if it is the will of Allah we shall go together." * * * * * On the 18th March the _Madura_ entered the mouth of the Congo River, and dropped her anchor about 200 yards abreast of the sandy point, called Banana. In a few minutes I was in the presence of Mr. Lafontaine Ferney, the chief Agent of the Dutch Company, to whom our steamer was consigned. Through some delay he had not been informed of our intending to arrive as soon. Everybody professed surprise, as they did not expect us before the 25th, but this fortunate accident was solely due to the captain and the good steamer. However, I succeeded in making arrangements by which the Dutch Company's steamer _K. A. Nieman_--so named after a fine young man of that name, who had lately died at St. Paul de Loanda--would be placed at my disposal, for the transport to Mataddi of 230 men next day. On returning to the ship, I found my officers surrounding two English traders, connected with the British Congo Company of Banana. They were saying some unpleasant things about the condition of the State steamers. "There is a piece of the _Stanley_ on shore now, which will give you an idea of that steamer. The _Stanley_ is a perfect ruin, we are told. However, will you leave the Pool? The State has not one steamer in service. They are all drawn up on the banks for repairs, which will take months. We don't see how you are to get away from here under six weeks! Look at that big steamer on the sands! she has just come out from Europe; the fool of a captain ran her on shore instead of waiting for a pilot. She has got the sections of a steamer in her hold. The _Heron_ and _Belgique_, both State steamers, have first, of course, to float that steamer off. You are in for it nicely, we can tell you." Naturally, this news was very discouraging to our officers and two of them hastened to comfort me with the disastrous news. They were not so well acquainted with the manners of the "natives" of the Lower Congo as I was. I only marvelled why they had not been politely requested to accompany their new aquaintances to the cemetery, in order that they might have the exquisite gratification of exhibiting the painted headboards, which record the deaths of many fine young men, as promising in appearance as they. I turned to the Agent of the British Congo, and requested permission to charter his steamer, the _Albuquerque_. The gentleman graciously acceded. This assured me transport for 140 men and 60 tons cargo. I then begged that he and his friend would negotiate for the charter of the large paddle boat the _Serpa Pinto_. Their good offices were entirely successful, and before evening I knew that we should leave Banana Point with 680 men and 160 tons cargo on the next day. The State steamer _Heron_ I was told would not be able to leave before the 20th. On the 19th the steamers _K. A. Kieman_, _Albuquerque_, and _Serpa Pinto_, departed from Banana Point, and before night had anchored at Ponta da Lenha. The next day the two former steamers steamed straight up to Mataddi. The _Serpa Pinto_ hauled into the pier at Boma, to allow me to send an official intimation of the fact that the new Governor of Stanley Falls was aboard, and to receive a hurried visit from two of the Executive Committee charged with the administration of the Congo State. We had but time to exchange a few words, but in that short time they managed to inform me that there was a "famine in the country"; that "the villages along the road to the Pool were abandoned"; that "the _Stanley_ was seriously damaged"; that "the Mission steamers _Peace_ and _Henry Reed_ were in some unknown parts of the Upper Congo"; that "the _En Avant_ was on shore without machinery or boiler;" that "the _A. I. A._ was 500 miles above Stanley Pool"; and that "the _Royal_ was perfectly rotten;" and had not been employed for a year; in fact, that the whole of the naval stock promised did not exist at all except in the imagination of the gentlemen of the Bureau at Brussels; and, said one, who seemed to be the principal of the Executive Committee, with deliberate emphasis: "The boats were only to assist you if they could be given without prejudice to the service of the State." The gruff voice of the Portuguese captain of the _Serpa Pinto_ ordered the gentlemen on shore, and we proceeded on our way up the Congo. My thoughts were not of the pleasantest. With my flotilla of fifteen whale boats I might have been independent; but there was an objection to the Congo route, and therefore that plan was abandoned. We had no sooner adopted the East Coast route than the Sovereign of the Congo State invited the Expedition to pass through his territory; the Germans had murmured, and the French Government protested at the idea of our marching through East Africa. When it was too late to order the flotilla of whale boats from Forrest and Son we then accepted the Congo route, after stipulating for transport up the Lower Congo, for porterage to Stanley Pool, and the loan of the steamers on the Upper Congo which were now said to be wrecked, rotten, or without boilers or engines, or scattered inaccessible. In my ears rang the cry in England: "Hurry up, or you may be too late!" and singing through my memory were the words of Junker: "Emin will be lost unless immediate aid be given him;" and Emin's appeal for help; for, if denied, "we shall perish." "Well, the aspect of our work is ominous. It is not my fault, and what we have to do is simple enough. We have given our promise to strive our level best. It is no time for regret, but to struggle and "steer right onward." Every article of our verbal bond, having accepted this responsibility, we must perform, and it is the manner of this performance that I now propose to relate. I shall not delay the narration to give descriptions of the route overland to the Pool, or of the Upper Congo and its banks, as these have been sufficiently treated of in 'Through the Dark Continent,' and 'The Congo and the Founding of its Free State'; and I now propose to be very brief with the incidents of our journey to Yambuya, at the head of navigation on the Aruwimi." ----- [F] Seyyid Barghash died six months later. CHAPTER IV. TO STANLEY POOL. Details of the journey to Stanley Pool--The Soudanese and the Somalis--Meeting with Mr. Herbert Ward--Camp at Congo la Lemba--Kindly entertained by Mr. and Mrs. Richards--Letters from up river--Letters to the Rev. Mr. Bentley and others for assistance--Arrival at Mwembi--Necessity of enforcing discipline--March to Vombo--Incident at Lukungu Station--The Zanzibaris--Incident between Jephson and Salim at the Inkissi River--A series of complaints--The Rev. Mr. Bentley and the steamer _Peace_--We reach Makoko's village--Leopoldville--Difficulties regarding the use of the Mission steamers--Monsieur Liebrichts sees Mr. Billington--Visit to Mr. Swinburne at Kinshassa--Orders to and duties of the officers. On the 21st of March the Expedition debarked at the landing-place of the Portuguese trading-house of Senor Joda Ferrier d'Abren, situate at Mataddi, at a distance of 108 miles from the Atlantic. As fast as the steamers were discharged of their passengers and cargo they cast off to return to the seaport of Banana, or the river port below. About noon the Portuguese gunboat _Kacongo_ hove in sight. She brought Major Barttelot, Mr. Jephson, and a number of Soudanese and Zanzibaris; and soon after the state steamer _Heron_ brought up the remainder of the cargo left on board the _Madura_. We set up the tents, stored the immense quantity of rice, biscuits, millet, salt, hay, etc., and bestirred ourselves like men with unlimited work before us. Every officer distinguished himself--the Zanzibaris showed by their celerity that they were glad to be on shore. Our European party now consisted of Messrs. Barttelot, Stairs, Nelson, Jephson, Parke, Bonny, who had voyaged with me from Aden, Mr. Walker, an engineer, who had joined us at the Cape, Mr. Ingham, an ex-Guardsman, who was our Congo Agent for collection of native carriers, Mr. John Rose Troup, who had been despatched to superintend native porterage to the Pool from Manyanga, and a European servant. On the following day 171 porters, carrying 7 boxes biscuits = 420 lbs., 157 bags of rice = 10,205 lbs., and beads, departed from Mataddi to Lukungu as a reserve store for the Expedition on arrival. There were 180 sacks of 170 lbs. each = 30,600 lbs. besides, ready to follow or precede us as carriers offered themselves, and which were to be dropped at various places _en route_, and at the Pool. Couriers were also sent to the Pool with request to the Commandant to hurry up the repairs of all steamers. On the second day of arrival, Mr. Ingham appeared with 220 carriers, engaged at a sovereign per load for conveying goods to the Pool. Lieutenant Stairs practised with the Maxim automatic gun, which fired 330 shots per minute, to the great admiration of Tippu-Tib and his followers. On the 25th the trumpets sounded in the Soudanese camp at 5.15 A.M. By 6 o'clock tents were folded, the companies were ranged by their respective captains, and near each company's stack of goods, and by 6.15 A.M. I marched out with the vanguard, behind which streamed the Expedition, according to their company, in single file, bearing with us 466 separate "charges" or porterloads of ammunition, cloth, beads, wire, canned provisions, rice, salt, oil for engines, brass rods, and iron wire. The setting out was admirable, but after the first hour of the march the mountains were so steep and stony, the sunshine was so hot, the loads so heavy, the men so new to the work after the glorious plenty on board the _Madura_, and we ourselves were in such an overfed condition, that the Expedition straggled in the most disheartening manner to those not prepared for such a sight. Arriving at the first river, the Mpozo, the _Advance_ was already jointed, and we were ferried over to the other bank by fifties, and camped. [Illustration: THE STEEL BOAT ADVANCE.] The Soudanese were a wretched sight. The Somalis were tolerable, though they had grumbled greatly because there were no camels. The former showed remarkably bad temper. Covered with their hooded great-coats, they had endured a terrible atmosphere, and the effects of heat, fatigue, and little worries were very prominent. [Illustration: MAXIM AUTOMATIC GUN.] The next day we camped in the grounds of Palaballa, belonging to the Livingstone Inland Mission, and were most hospitably treated by Mr. Clarke, the superintendent, and ladies. As our men were so new to their work, we halted the next day. By the officers' returns I found that nine had died since leaving Zanzibar, and seventeen were so ill that we were compelled to leave them at Palaballa to recuperate. We resumed the march on the 28th, and reached Maza Mankengi. On the road Mr. Herbert Ward was met, and volunteered as a member of the Expedition. He was engaged, and sent to Mataddi to assist Mr. Ingham with the native transport. Mr. Ward had been of late years in the service of the Congo State, and previously had wandered in New Zealand and Borneo, and was always regarded by me as a young man of great promise. We were in camp by noon of the 29th at Congo la Lemba, on the site of a place I knew some years ago as a flourishing village. The chief of it was then in his glory, an undisputed master of the district. Prosperity, however, spoiled him, and he began to exact tolls from the State caravans. The route being blocked by his insolence, the State sent a force of Bangalas, who captured and beheaded him. The village was burnt, and the people fled elsewhere. The village site is now covered with tall grass, and its guava, palm, and lemon-trees are choked with reeds. There was a slight improvement in the order of the march, but the beginning of an Expedition is always a trying time. The Zanzibaris carry 65 lbs. of ammunition, 9 lbs. per rifle, four days' rations of rice, and their own kit, which may be from 4 to 10 lbs. weight of cloth and bedding mats. After they have become acclimated this weight appears light to them; but during the first month we have to be very careful not to make long marches, and to exercise much forbearance. A heavy rain detained us the early part of next day, but soon after nine we moved on and reached the Lufu River. It was a terribly fatiguing march. Until midnight the people came streaming in, tired, footsore, and sour. The officers slept in my tent, and supped on biscuits and rice. Near the Mazamba Wood we passed Baron von Rothkirch supervising a party of Kabindas, who were hauling the _Florida's_ shaft. At the rate of progress they would probably reach the Pool about August next; and at the Bembezi Ford a French trader was met descending with a fine lot of ivory tusks. We passed the Mangola River on the 31st, when I was myself disabled by a fit of sickness from indulging in the guavas of Congo la Lemba, and on the 1st April we travelled to Banza Manteka. At the L. I. Mission Mr. and Mrs. Richards most kindly entertained us. At this place a few years' mission work has produced a great change. Nearly all the native population had become professed Christians, and attended Divine service punctually with all the fervour of revivalists. Young men whom I had known as famous gin-drinkers had become sober, decent men, and most mannerly in behaviour. I received three letters from up river, one from Troup at Manyanga, Swinburne at Kinshassa, and Glave at Equator Station, all giving a distressing account of the steamers _Stanley_, _Peace_, _Henry Reed_, and _En Avant_. The first is damaged throughout according to my informants, the Mission steamers require thorough overhauling, the _En Avant_ has been reduced to a barge. Mr. Troup suggests that we carry a lighter or two from Manyanga to the Pool, a thing utterly impossible. We were already overloaded because of the rice we carried to feed nearly 800 people through the starving country. In order to lighten our work slightly Messrs. Jephson and Walker were despatched with our steel boat, the _Advance_, by the Congo to Manyanga. We passed by the Lunionzo River on the 3rd, and the next day camped on the site of the abandoned village of Kilolo. During the march I passed a Soudanese trying to strangle a Zanzibari because the wearied man had slightly touched his shoulder with his box. The spleen the Soudanese show is extremely exasperating, but we must exercise patience yet awhile. A march of three hours brought us to the Kwilu River, with the usual ups and downs of hills, which tire the caravan. At the river, which is 100 yards wide and of strong current, was a canoe without an owner. We took possession of it, and began to cross the Advance Company by tens. The opportunity afforded by the ferriage was seized by me to write appealing letters to the Commandant at Stanley Pool to interpret the orders of the Minister of the Interior, Strauch, according to the generous spirit expressed by King Leopold when he invited us to seek Emin Pasha _viâ_ the Congo. Another was directed to the Rev. Mr. Bentley, of the Baptist Mission, requesting him to remember the assistance I gave the Baptists in 1880-84, and to be prepared to lead the steamer _Peace_ that I might hurry the Expedition away from the poverty-stricken region around Stanley Pool. Another was despatched to Mr. Billington, superintendent of the _Henry Reed_, in similar terms, reminding him that it was I who had given them ground at Stanley Pool. Another to the Commandant of Lukungu Station, requesting him to collect 400 carriers to lighten the labours of my men. On reaching Mwembi the 6th April, I was particularly struck with the increase of demoralization in the caravan. So far, in order not to press the people, I had been very quiet, entrusting the labour of bringing the stragglers to the younger men, that they might become experienced in the troubles which beset Expeditions in Africa; but the necessity of enforcing discipline was particularly demonstrated on this march. The Zanzibaris had no sooner pitched the tents of their respective officers than they rushed like madmen among the neighbouring villages, and commenced to loot native property, in doing which one named Khamis bin Athman was shot dead by a plucky native. This fatal incident is one of these signal proofs that discipline is better than constant forbearance, and how soon even an army of licentious, insubordinate, and refractory men would be destroyed. It had probably been believed by the mass of the people that I was rather too old to supervise the march, as in former times; but on the march to Vombo, on the 7th, everyone was undeceived, and the last of the lengthy caravan was in camp by 11 A.M., and each officer enjoyed his lunch at noon, with his mind at ease for duty done and a day's journey well made. There is nothing more agreeable than the feeling one possesses after a good journey briefly accomplished. We are assured of a good day's rest; the remainder of the day is our own to read, to eat, to sleep, and be luxuriously inactive, and to think calmly of the morrow; and there can scarcely be anything more disagreeable than to know that, though the journey is but a short one, yet relaxation of severity permits that cruel dawdling on the road in the suffocating high grass, or scorched by a blistering sun--the long line of carriers is crumpled up into perspiring fragments--water far when most needed; not a shady tree near the road; the loads robbed and scattered about over ten miles of road; the carriers skulking among the reeds, or cooling themselves in groves at a distance from the road; the officers in despair at the day's near close, and hungry and vexed, and a near prospect of some such troubles to recur again to-morrow and the day after. An unreflecting spectator hovering near our line of march might think we were unnecessarily cruel; but the application of a few cuts to the confirmed stragglers secure eighteen hours' rest to about 800 people and their officers, save the goods from being robbed--for frequently these dawdlers lag behind purposely for such intentions--and the day ends happily for all, and the morrow's journey has no horrors for us. On the 8th the Expedition was welcomed at Lukungu Station by Messrs. Francqui and Dessauer. These hospitable Belgians had of their own impulse gathered four days' rations for our 800 people, of potatoes, bananas, brinjalls, Indian corn, and palm nuts. No sooner had we all assembled than the Soudanese gathered in a body to demand more food. In fifteen days they had consumed each one 40 lbs. of biscuit and rice; and they announced their intention of returning to the Lower Congo if more rations were not served out. The four days' rations of vegetables they disdained to touch. I had resolved to be very patient; and it was too early yet to manifest even the desire to be otherwise. Extra rations of rice and biscuits were accordingly served out. Fortunately for me personally there were good officers with me who could relieve me of the necessity of coming into conflict with wilful fellows like these sulky, obstinate Soudanese. I reserved for myself the _rôle_ of mediator between exasperated whites and headstrong, undisciplined blacks. Provided one is not himself worn out by being compelled throughout the day to shout at thick-headed men, it is a most agreeable work to extenuate offences and soothe anger. Probably the angry will turn away muttering that we are partial; the other party perhaps thirsts for more sympathy on its side; but the mediator must be prepared to receive a rub or two himself. Thinking that there would be less chance of the Soudanese storming so furiously against the Zanzibaris on the road, I requested Major Barttelot to keep his Soudanese a day's march ahead of the Zanzibaris. It will not be surprising that we all felt more sympathy for the loaded Zanzibaris. These formed our scouting parties, and foragers, and food purveyors; they pitched our tents, they collected fuel, they carried the stores; the main strength of the Expedition consisted of them; without them the Europeans and Soudanese, if they had been ten times the number, would have been of no use at all for the succour of Emin. The Soudanese carried nothing but their rifles, their clothing, and their rations. By the time they would be of actual utility we should be a year older; they might perhaps fail us when the hour of need came, but we hoped not; in the meantime, all that was necessary was to keep them moving on with as little trouble as possible to themselves, the Zanzibaris, and us. The Major, however, without doubt was sorely tempted. If he was compelled to strike during these days, I must admit that the Soudanese were uncommonly provoking. Job would have waxed wrathful, and become profane. The heat was terrible the day we left Lukungu--the 10th. The men dropped down on all sides; chiefs and men succumbed. We overtook the Soudanese again, and the usual scuffling and profanity occurred as an unhappy result. On Easter Monday, the 11th, the Soudanese Company was stricken down with fever, and lamentation was general, and all but two of the Somalis were prostrated. Barttelot was in a furious rage at his unhappy Company, and expressed a wish that he had been doing Jephson's duty with the boat. I received a letter from Jephson in the evening, wherein he wrote that he wished to be with us, or anywhere rather than on the treacherous and turbulent Congo. The following day saw a foundering caravan as we struggled most wretchedly into camp. The Soudanese were miles from each other, the Somalis were all ill; one of those in the boat with Mr. Jephson had died. Liebig, and meat soups, had to be prepared in sufficient quantities to serve out cupfuls to each weakened man as he staggered in. Lutete's was reached the next day, and the experiences of the march were similar. We suffer losses on every march--losses of men by desertion, by illness, of rifles, boxes of canned provisions, and of fixed ammunition. At Nselo, on the Inkissi River, we encountered Jephson, who has seen some novelties of life during his voyage up the Congo rapids to Manyanga. The sun has commenced to paint our faces a vermilion tint, for I see in each officer's face two inflamed circles glowing red and bright under each eye, and I fancy the eyes flash with greater brilliancy. Some of them have thought it would be more picturesque, more of the ideal explorer type, to have their arms painted also, and have bared their milk-white arms until they seem bathed in flame. The 16th April we employed in ferrying the Expedition across the Inkissi River, and by 5.30 P.M. every soul was across, besides our twenty donkeys and herd of Cape goats. During the ferriage some hot words were exchanged between Salim, son of Massoud, a brother-in-law of Tippu-Tib, and Mr. Mounteney Jephson, who is the master of the boat. Salim, since he has married a sister of Tippu-Tib, aspires to be beyond censure; his conceit has made him abominably insolent. At Mataddi's he chose to impress his views most arrogantly on Lieutenant Stairs; and now it is with Mr. Jephson, who briefly told him that if he did not mind his own business he would have to toss him into the river. Salim savagely resented this, until Tippu-Tib appeared to ease his choler. At the next camp I received some more letters from Stanley Pool. Lieutenant Liebrichts, the commissaire of the Stanley Pool district, wrote that the steamer _Stanley_ would be at my disposition, and also a lighter! The _En Avant_ would not be ready for six weeks. Another was from Mr. Billington, who declined most positively to lend the _Henry Reed_. One of my most serious duties after a march was to listen to all sorts of complaints--a series of them were made on this day. A native robbed by a hungry Zanzibari of a cassava loaf required restitution; Binza, the goat-herd, imagined himself slighted because he was not allowed to participate in the delicacy of goat tripe, and solicited my favour to obtain for him this privilege; a Zanzibari weakling, starving amidst a well-rationed camp and rice-fed people, begged me to regard his puckered stomach, and do him the justice to see that he received his fair rations from his greedy chief. Salim, Tippu-Tib's henchman, complained that my officers did not admire him excessively. He said, "They should remember he no Queen man now he Tippu-Tib's brudder-in-law" (Salim was formerly an interpreter on board a British cruiser). And there were charges of thefts of a whinstone, a knife, a razor, against certain incorrigible purloiners. At our next camp on the Nkalama River, which we reached on the 18th April, I received a letter by a courier from Rev. Mr. Bentley, who informed me that no prohibition had been received by him from England of the loan of the Baptist mission steamer _Peace_, and that provided I assured him that the Zanzibaris did nothing contrary to missionary character, which he as a missionary was desirous of maintaining, that he would be most happy to surrender the _Peace_ for the service of the "Emin Pasha Relief Expedition." Though very grateful, and fully impressed with his generosity, in this unnecessary allusion to the Zanzibaris, and to this covert intimation that we are responsible for their excesses, Mr. Bentley has proved that it must have cost him a struggle to grant the loan of the _Peace_. He ought to have remembered that the privilege he obtained of building his stations at Leopoldville, Kinshassa, and Lukolela was gained by the labours of the good-natured Zanzibaris, who though sometimes tempted to take freedoms, were generally well behaved, so much so that the natives preferred them to the Houssas, Kabindas, Kruboys, or Bangalas. On the 19th we were only able to make a short march, as each day witnessed a severe downpour of rain, and the Luila near which we camped had become dangerously turbulent. On the 20th we reached Makoko's village. The Zanzibaris were observed to be weakening rapidly. They have been compelled to live on stinted rations lately, and their habit of indulging in raw manioc is very injurious. A pound of rice per day is not a large ration for working men, but if they had contrived to be contented on this scanty but wholesome fare for a while they would not be in a robust condition, it is true, but there certainly would be less illness. During this march from the Lower Congo we had consumed up to date 27,500 lbs. of rice--about 13 tons--so that the resources of the entire region had been severely taxed to obtain this extra carriage. The natives having fled from the public paths, and our fear that the Zanzibaris, if permitted to forage far from the camp, would commit depredations, have been the main cause of their plucking up the poisonous manioc tubers, and making themselves wretchedly sick. There were about a hundred men on this date useless as soldiers or carriers. Arriving at Leopoldville on the 21st to the great delight of all, one of my first discoveries was the fact that the _Stanley_, a small lighter, our steel boat the _Advance_, and the mission steamer _Peace_ were the only boats available for the transport of the Expedition up the Congo. I introduce the following notes from my diary:-- _Leopoldville, April 22nd._--We are now 345 miles from the sea in view of Stanley Pool, and before us free from rapids are about 1100 miles of river to Yambuya on the Aruwimi whence I propose resuming the land journey to Lake Albert. Messrs. Bentley and Whitley called on me to-day. We spoke concerning the _Peace_. They said the vessel required many repairs. I insisted that the case was urgent. They finally decided after long consultation that the repairs could be finished by the 30th. In the afternoon I took Major Barttelot and Mr. Mounteney Jephson into my confidence, and related to them the difficulties that we were in, explained my claims on the consideration of the missionaries and the urgent necessity of an early departure from the foodless district, that provisions were so scarce that the State were able to procure only 60 full rations for 146 people, and that to supply the others the State officers had recourse to hunting the hippopotami in the Pool, and that we should have to pursue the same course to eke out the rice. And if 60 rations can only be procured for 146 people by the State authorities, how were we to supply 750 people? I then directed them to proceed to Mr. Billington and Dr. Sims, and address themselves to the former principally--inasmuch as Dr. Sims was an unsuccessful applicant for a position on this Expedition--and explain matters fairly to him. They were absent about an hour and a half, and returned to me crestfallen,--they had failed. Poor Major! Poor Jephson! Monsieur Liebrichts, who had formerly served with me on the Congo at Bolobo, was now the Governor of the Stanley Pool district. He dined with me this evening and heard the story as related by Major Barttelot and Mr. Mounteney Jephson. Nothing was kept back from him. He knew much of it previously. He agreed heartily with our views of things and acknowledged that there was great urgency. Jephson said, "I vote we seize the _Henry Reed_." "No, my friend Jephson. We must not be rash. We must give Mr. Billington time to consider, who would assuredly understand how much his mission was indebted to me, and would see no difficulty in chartering his steamer at double the price the Congo State paid to him. Those who subsist on the charity of others naturally know how to be charitable. We will try again to-morrow, when I shall make a more formal requisition and offer liberal terms, and then if she is not conceded we must think what had best be done under the circumstances." _April 23rd._--Various important matters were attended to this morning. The natives from all parts in this neighbourhood came to revive acquaintance, and it was ten o'clock before I was at liberty. Ngalyema was somewhat tedious with a long story about grievances that he had borne patiently, and insults endured without plaint. He described the change that had come over the white men, that of late they had become more imperious in their manner, and he and other chiefs suspecting that the change boded no good to them had timidly absented themselves from the stations, the markets had been abandoned, and consequently food had become scarce and very dear. Having given my sympathy to my old friends I called Barttelot and Jephson and read to them a statement of former kindnesses shown to the 'Livingstone Inland Mission.' "When you have spoken, request in the name of charity and humanity, and all good feeling, that Mr. Billington allow me to offer liberal terms for the charter of the _Henry Reed_ for a period of sixty days." Barttelot was inspired to believe that his eloquence would prevail, and asked permission to try in his way once more. "Very good, Major, go, and success attend you." "I'm sure I shall succeed like a shot," said the Major confidently. The Major proceeded to the Mission House, and Mr. Jephson accompanied him as a witness of the proceedings. Presently I received a characteristic note from the Major, who wrote that he had argued ineffectually with the missionaries, principally with Mr. Billington, but in the presence of Dr. Sims, who sat in a chair contenting himself with uttering remarks occasionally. Lieutenant Liebrichts was informed of the event, and presented himself, saying that this affair was the duty of the State. Monsieur Liebrichts, who is undoubtedly one of the most distinguished officers in the Congo State, and who has well maintained the high character described in a former book of mine, devoted himself with ardour to the task of impressing Mr. Billington with the irrationality of his position, and of his obstinacy in declining to assist us out of our difficulties in which we had been placed by the fault of circumstances. To and fro throughout the day he went demanding, explaining, and expostulating, and finally after twelve hours prevailed on Mr. Billington to accept a charter upon the liberal terms offered; namely, £100 per month. _April 24th._--Mustered Expedition and discovered we are short of 57 men, and 38 Remington rifles. The actual number now is 737 men and 496 rifles. Of bill-hooks, axes, shovels, canteens, spears, &c., we have lost over 50 per cent.--all in a twenty-eight days' march. Some of the men, perhaps, will return to their duties, but if such a large number deserts 3000 miles from their native land, what might have been expected had we taken the East Coast route. The Zanzibar headmen tell me with a cynical bitterness that the Expedition would have been dissolved. They say, "These people from the clove and cinnamon plantations of Zanzibar are no better than animals--they have no sense of feeling. They detest work, they don't know what silver is, and they have no parents or homes. The men who have homes never desert, if they did they would be so laughed at by their neighbours that they could not live." There is a great deal of truth in these remarks, but in this Expedition are scores of confirmed bounty-jumpers who are only awaiting opportunities. In inspecting the men to-day I was of the opinion that only about 150 were free men, and that all the remainder were either slaves or convicts. Mr. J. S. Jameson has kindly volunteered to proceed to shoot hippopotami to obtain meat. We are giving 1 lb. of rice to each man--just half rations. For the officers and our Arab guests I have a flock of goats, about thirty in number. The food presents from the various chiefs around have amounted to 500 men's rations and have been very acceptable. Capt. Nelson is busy with the axemen preparing fuel for the steamers. The _Stanley_ must depart to-morrow with Major Barttelot and Surgeon Parke's companies, and debark them at a place above the Wampoko, when they will then march to Mswata. I must avail myself of every means of leaving Stanley Pool before we shall be so pinched by hunger that the men will become uncontrollable. _April 25th._--The steamer _Stanley_, steamed up river with 153 men under Major Barttelot and Surgeon Parke. I paid a visit to Kinshassa to see my ancient secretary, Mr. Swinburne, who is now manager of an Ivory Trading Company, called the "Sanford Exploring Company." The hull of his steamer, _Florida_, being completed, he suggested that if we assisted him to launch her he would be pleased to lend her to the Expedition, since she was of no use to anybody until her machinery and shaft came up with Baron von Rothkirch, who probably would not arrive before the end of July. I was only too glad, and a number of men were at once ordered up to begin the operations of extending the slip to the river's edge. Our engineer, Mr. John Walker, was detailed for service on the _Henry Reed_, to clean her up and prepare her for the Upper Congo. One Soudanese and one Zanzibari died to-day. _April 27th._--Thirteen Zanzibaris and one Soudanese, of those left behind from illness, at stations on the way have arrived. They report having sold their rifles and sapper's tools! _April 28th._--Struck camp and marched Expedition overland to Kinshassa that I might personally superintend launching of hull of steamer, _Florida_, which we hope to do the day after to-morrow, when the ship is finished. We are being hospitably entertained meanwhile by Mr. Antoine Greshoff, of the Dutch Company, and Mr. Swinburne of the Sanford Company. [Illustration: LAUNCHING THE STEAMER "FLORIDA."] _April 29th._--In camp at Kinshassa under the baobabs. The steamers _Stanley_ and _Henry Reed_, towing-barge _En Avant_ arrived. _April 30th._--The hull of the _Florida_ was launched this morning. Two hundred men pulled her steadily over the extended slip into the river. She was then taken to the landing-place of the Dutch Company and fastened to the steamer _Stanley_. Each officer was furnished with the plan of embarkation, and directed to begin work of loading the steamers according to programme. The following orders were also issued:-- The Officers commanding companies in this Expedition are-- Company E. M. Barttelot Major No. 1, Soudanese. W. G. Stairs Captain " 2, Zanzibaris. R. H. Nelson " " 3 " A. J. Mounteney Jephson " " 4 " J. S. Jameson " " 5 " John Rose Troup " " 6 " T. H. Parke Captain and Surgeon " 7, Somalis and Zanzibaris. Mr. William Bonny takes charge of transport and riding animals and live stock, and assists Surgeon Parke when necessary. "Each officer is personally responsible for the good behaviour of his company and the condition of arms and accoutrements." "Officers will inspect frequently cartridge-pouches of their men, and keep record to prevent sale of ammunition to natives or Arabs." "For trivial offences--a slight corporal punishment only can be inflicted, and this as seldom as possible. Officers will exercise discretion in this matter, and endeavour to avoid irritating the men, by being too exacting, or showing unnecessary fussiness." "It has been usual for me to be greatly forbearing--let the rule be, three pardons for one punishment." "Officers will please remember that the labour of the men is severe, their burdens are heavy, the climate hot, the marches fatiguing, and the rations poor and often scanty. Under such conditions human nature is extremely susceptible, therefore punishments should be judicious, not vexatious, to prevent straining patience too much. Nevertheless discipline must be taught, and when necessary enforced for the general well-being." "Serious offences affecting the Expedition generally will be dealt with by me." "While on shipboard one officer will be detailed to perform the duties of the day. He must see to the distribution of rations, ship cleaned, and that no fighting or wrangling occurs, as knifing soon follows unless checked, that the animals are fed and watered regularly. For all petty details apply to the senior officer, Major Barttelot." CHAPTER V. FROM STANLEY POOL TO YAMBUYA. Upper Congo scenery--Accident to the _Peace_--Steamers reach Kimpoko--Collecting fuel--The good-for-nothing _Peace_--The _Stanley_ in trouble--Arrival at Bolobo--The Relief Expedition arranged in two columns--Major Barttelot and Mr. Jameson chosen for command of Rear Column--Arrival at Equator and Bangala Stations--The Basoko villages: Baruti deserts us--Arrival at Yambuya. As I have already expatiated at large upon the description of scenes of the Upper Congo, I intend to expunge altogether any impressions made on us according to our varying moods during our river voyage of about 1100 miles to Yambuya. I will confine myself to the incidents. The days passed quickly enough. Their earlier hours presented to us every morning panoramas of forest-land, and myriads of forest isles, and broad channels of dead calm water so beshone by the sun that they resembled rivers of quicksilver. In general one might well have said that they were exceedingly monotonous, that is if the traveller was moving upward day by day past the same scenes from such a distance as to lose perception of the details. But we skirted one bank or the other, or steered close to an island to avail ourselves of the deep water, and therefore were saved from the tedium of the monotony. Seated in an easy-chair scarcely 40 feet from the shore, every revolution of the propeller caused us to see new features of foliage, bank, trees, shrubs, plants, buds and blossoms. We might be indifferent to, or ignorant of the character and virtues of the several plants and varied vegetation we saw, we might have no interest in any portion of the shore, but we certainly forgot the lapse of time while observing the outward forms, and were often kindled into livelier interest whenever an inhabitant of the air or of the water appeared in the field of vision. These delightful views of perfectly calm waters, and vivid green forests with every sprig and leaf still as death, and almost unbroken front line of thick leafy bush sprinkled with butterflies and moths and insects, and wide rivers of shining water, will remain longer in our minds than the stormy aspects which disturbed the exquisite repose of nature almost every afternoon. [Illustration: STANLEY POOL.] From the middle of March to the middle of May was the rainy season, and daily, soon after 2 P.M., the sky betokened the approach of a lowering tempest; the sun was hidden by the dark portents of storms, and soon after the thunderbolts rent the gloom, lightning blazed through it, the rain poured with tropical copiousness, and general misery prevailed and the darkness of the night followed. Nature and time were at their best for us. The river was neither too high nor too low. Were it the former we should have had the difficulty of finding uninundated ground; had it been the latter we should have been tediously delayed by the shallows. We were permitted to steer generally about 40 yards from the left bank, and to enjoy without interruption over 1000 miles of changing hues and forms of vegetable life, which for their variety, greenness of verdure, and wealth and scent of flowers, the world cannot equal. Tornadoes were rare during the greater portion of the day, whereby we escaped many terrors and perils; they occurred in the evening or the night oftener, when we should be safely moored to the shore. Mosquitoes, gadflies, tsetse and gnats were not so vicious as formerly. Far more than half the journey was completed before we were reminded of their existence by a few incorrigible vagrants of each species. The pugnacious hippopotami and crocodiles were on this occasion well-behaved. The aborigines were modest in their expectations, and in many instances they gave goats, fowls, and eggs, bananas and plantains, and were content with "chits" on Mr. John Rose Troup, who would follow us later. Our health was excellent, indeed remarkably good, compared with former experiences; whether the English were better adapted physically, or whether they declined to yield, I know not, but I had fewer complaints on this than on any previous expedition. On the 1st of May the start up the Congo was commenced with the departure of the _Henry Reed_ and two barges, with Tippu-Tib and 96 followers and 35 of our men. Soon after her followed the _Stanley_ and her consort the _Florida_, with 336 people, besides 6 donkeys, and cargoes of goods; and half-an-hour later the _Peace_ attempted to follow, with 135 passengers on board; but the good wishes of the people on shore had scarcely died away, and we were breasting the rapid current, when her rudder snapped in two. Her captain commanded the anchors to be dropped, which happened to be over exceedingly rugged ground where the current was racing six knots. The boat reeled to her beam ends, the chains tore her deck, and as the anchors could not be lifted, being foul among the rocks below, we had to cut ourselves loose and to return to Kinshassa landing-place. Captain Whitley and Mr. David Charters the engineer set to to repair the rudder, and at 8 P.M. their task was completed. The next morning we had better fortune, and in due time we reached Kimpoko at the head of the Pool, where the other steamers awaited us. The _Peace_ led the advance up river on the 3rd; but the _Stanley_ drew up, passed us, and reached camp an hour and a half ahead of us. The _Henry Reed_ was last because of want of judgment on the part of her captain. The _Peace_ was spasmodic. She steamed well for a short time, then suddenly slackened speed. We waited half an hour for another spurt. Her boiler was a system of coiled tubes, and her propellers were enclosed in twin cylindrical shells under the stern, and required to be driven at a furious rate before any speed could be obtained. She will probably give us great trouble. As soon as we camped, which we generally did about 5 P.M., each officer mustered his men, for wood cutting for the morrow's fuel. This was sometimes very hard work, and continued for hours into the night. The wood of dead trees required to be sought by a number of men and conveyed to the landing-place for the cutters. For such a steamer as the _Stanley_ it would require fifty men to search for and carry wood for quite two hours; it would require a dozen axemen to cut it up into 30-inch lengths for the grates. The _Peace_ and _Henry Reed_ required half as many axes and an equal amount of time to prepare their fuel. It must then be stored on board the steamers that no delay might take place in the morning, and this required some more work before silence, which befits the night, could be obtained, and in the meantime the fires were blazing to afford light, and the noise of crashing, cutting, and splitting of logs continued merrily. The good-for-nothing _Peace_ continued to provoke us on the 4th May. She was certainly one of the slowest steamers any shipbuilder could build. We halted every forty-five minutes or so to "oil up," and sometimes had to halt to clear out the cylinders of the propellers, had to stop to raise steam, to have the grate cleared out of charcoal, while five minutes after raising steam up to 60°, she fell to 40°, and then 35°, and the poor miserable thing floated down stream at the rate of a knot an hour. We lost seven days at Stanley Pool through her; a day was lost when the rudder broke; we were fated to be belated. The next day, the 5th, we made fast to the landing-place of Mswata. The Major and Dr. Parke had arrived four days previously. They had prepared quantities of fuel, and had purchased a large pile of provisions--loaves of bread from the manioc root and Indian corn. On the 6th the Major and his companions received orders to march their men to Kwamouth, and await the steamer. The _Stanley_ was ordered to proceed to Bolobo, debark her passengers, and descend to Kwamouth to convey Barttelot and men, while we reorganized companies at Bolobo. On the 7th we observed the _Stanley_ steamer ashore on the left bank near Chumbiri, and proceeding to her to inquire into the delay discovered that she was badly injured by running on a rocky reef. The second section had been pierced in four separate places and several rivets knocked out and others loosened. We therefore set to with the engineers of all the other steamers to repair her, but Messrs. Charters and Walker, both Scotchmen, were the most effective at the repairs. We cut up some old sheet iron oil drums, formed plates of them, and screwed them in from the outside. This was a very delicate labour, requiring patience and nicety of touch, as there were two feet of water in the hold, and the screws required to be felt to place the nuts on, as well as the punching of holes through the bottom of the steamer. The engineer was up to his waist in water, and striking his chisel through an element that broke the blow, then there was the preparation of the plate to correspond with the holes in the steamer, spreading the minium, then a layer of canvas, and another layer of minium. When everything was ready for fixing the iron plate, a diver was sent down, the iron plate with its canvas patch and minium layers in one hand, and the end of a string attached to a hole in the plate in the other hand. The diver outside had to feel for the corresponding hole in the steamer, and the engineer up to his hips in water within the hold felt for the end of the twine, which when found, was drawn in gently, and the plate carefully guided, or the bolt was slipped in, and the engineer placed the nut on. For hours this tedious work went on, and by evening of the 7th, one large rent in the steel hull had been repaired; the 8th and 9th were passed before the steamer was able to continue her voyage. On the 10th the _Stanley_ caught the asthmatic _Peace_ up, and passed us in company with the _Henry Reed_. A few hours later the _Peace_ sulked altogether, and declined to proceed. Only 30 lbs. steam could be maintained. We were therefore compelled to make fast to the shore. At this period Mr. Charters' face possessed more interest than anything else in the world. We hung on his words as though they were decrees of Fate. He was a sanguine and cheerful little man, and he comforted us exceedingly. He was sure we would arrive in Bolobo in good time, though we did not appear to be proceeding very rapidly while tied to the shore. The next day we tried again, starting at 4 A.M., resolved to distinguish ourselves. For an hour the _Peace_ behaved nobly, but finally she showed symptoms of relapse. The steam descended lower and lower, and could not retain 5 lbs., and we therefore cast anchor. At 10 A.M. the case appearing hopeless, I despatched Mr. Ward in the whale boat to obtain assistance from the _Henry Reed_, and at eight at night she appeared and anchored sixty yards from us, and all the day we had been idly watching the dark brown current flow by, anchored in mid-stream at least 500 yards from either shore or island, seeing nothing but hippopotami, grassy clumps, weeds, and débris of woods floating by. On the 12th we arrived ignominiously at Bolobo in tow of the _Henry Reed_. When the traveller reaches Uyanzi such a thing as famine is scarcely possible, and one of the best river ports for abundance and variety of food is Bolobo. Here, then, after reaching a district where the people could recuperate and forget the miseries of limited rations endured since leaving Lukungu, was the place to form the Relief Expedition into two columns. It was decided that as the force could not be transported on one voyage to the Upper Congo, that the healthiest men should be selected to proceed to Yambuya, and that the weakly should remain in Bolobo as a portion of Major Barttelot's column under Messrs. Herbert Ward, and William Bonny, until the _Stanley_ should return from Yambuya. We had started from England with the cry of "urgency" in our ears and memories, and it behoved us to speed on as well as circumstances would permit in obedience to the necessity, trusting that the rear column would be able to follow on our tracks some six or seven weeks later. We accordingly selected 125 men who appeared weakest in body, and left them at Bolobo to fatten up on the bananas and excellent native bread and fish that were easily procurable here. The _Stanley_ in the meantime had descended to Kwamouth with Major Barttelot, Dr. Parke, and 153 men. The vexed question was also settled here as to who should take charge of the rear column. It being the most important post next to mine, all eyes were naturally directed to the senior officer, Major Barttelot. It was said that he had led a column of a thousand men from Kosseir on the Red Sea to Keneh on the Nile, and that he had distinguished himself in Afghanistan and in the Soudan Campaign. If these facts were true, then undoubtedly he was the fittest officer for the office of commanding the rear column. Had there been a person of equal rank with him, I should certainly have delegated this charge to another, not because of any known unfitness, but because he was so eager to accompany the advance column. On reflecting on the capacities and rank of the other gentlemen, and their eagerness being too well known to me, I informed the Major that I could not really undertake the responsibility of appointing youthful lieutenants to fill a post that devolved on him by rank, experience, and reputation. "One more steamer like the _Stanley_ would have done it, Major, completely," I said, cheerfully, for the young officer was sorely depressed. "Only 125 men and a cargo of goods left of the Expedition. All the rest are on board comfortably. If you can discover some better person than yourself to take your place between here and Yambuya, I would gladly know him. I hope you will not take it too much to heart. For what does it matter after all? You who bring up the rear are as much entitled to credit as we in the advance. If Tippu-Tib will only be faithful, you will only be six weeks behind us, and you may overtake us, for we shall be naturally delayed a great deal, finding the track and boring our way through all kinds of obstacles. You will follow an indicated path, and frequently you may be able to make two of our marches in one day. If Tippu-Tib does not join us, you will be master of your own column, and you will be so occupied with your task that the days will slip by you fast enough. And I tell you another thing for your comfort, Major; there is plenty of work ahead of us, wherein you shall have the most important part. Now tell me, who would you wish for your second?" "Oh, I would rather leave it to you." "Nay, I would prefer you would select some one friend as your companion, to share your hopes and thoughts. We all of us have our partialities, you know." "Well, then, I choose Jameson." "Very well, Mr. Jameson shall be appointed. I will speak to him myself. I will then leave Mr. Rose Troup, who is a capital fellow, I have reason to believe, and young Ward and Bonny. Both Troup and Ward speak Swahili, and they will be of vast service to you." In this manner the matter was arranged, and on the 15th of May the flotilla resumed the up-river voyage, conveying 511 persons of the Expedition, and Tippu-Tib and ninety of his followers. We made a fair journey on the 16th, the repairs on the _Peace_ having greatly improved her rate of progress, and on the 19th made fast to the shore near the Baptist Mission of Lukolela, though the _Stanley_ did not make her appearance until late on the 19th. We halted on the 20th at Lukolela, to purchase food for our journey to Equator Station, and we were extremely grateful for the kind hospitality shown to us by the missionaries at this station. On the 24th of May we arrived at Equator Station, now owned by the Sanford Company, which was represented by Mr. E. J. Glave, a young and clever Yorkshireman. Captain Van Gele was also here, with five Houssa soldiers lately returned from a futile effort to ascend the Mobangi higher than Mr. Grenfell, the missionary, had succeeded in doing some months previously. We reached Bangala Station on the 30th May. This place was now a very large and prosperous settlement. There was a garrison of sixty men and two Krupps, for defence. Bricks were made, of excellent quality; 40,000 had already been manufactured. The establishment was in every way very creditable to Central Africa. The chief, Van Kirkhoven, was absent at Langa-Langa. He had lately succeeded in releasing twenty-nine Houssa soldiers from slavery. During the escape of Deane from Stanley Falls, these Houssas had precipitately retreated into a canoe, and had floated as far as Upoto when they were captured as runaways by the natives of the district. Among other good qualities of Bangala, there is a never-failing supply of food. The station possessed 130 goats and a couple of hundred fowls, which supplied the officers with fresh eggs. Ten acres were green with a promising rice crop. The officers enjoyed wine of palm and banana, and fermented beer made of sugar-cane, and exceedingly potent I found the latter to be. At Bangala I instructed Major Barttelot to proceed with Tippu-Tib and party direct to Stanley Falls, having first taken out thirty-five Zanzibaris from the boats, and replaced them with forty Soudanese, that none of the Zanzibaris might become acquainted with the fact that Stanley Falls was but a few days' march from Yambuya. With the exception of certain irregularities in the behaviour of the steamer _Stanley_, which by some mysterious manoeuvres disappeared amid intricate passages, on the plea that sufficient fuel of a right quality could be found, we steamed up to the Aruwimi River without any incident, and arrived at our ancient camp, opposite the Basoko villages, on June 12th. The Basoko were the countrymen of Baruti, or "Gunpowder," who had been captured by Karema when a child, in 1883, and had been taken to England by Sir Francis de Winton, with a view of impressing on him the superiority of civilized customs. From Sir Francis' care Baruti passed into mine, and here we were at last in view of his natal village and tribe, from which he had been absent six years. Seeing Baruti eyeing with excessive interest the place of his birth, he was encouraged by me to hail the Basoko, and invite them to visit us. My previous attempts at winning the confidence of these forest natives had been failures, though in time I was sure there would be no difficulty. For a long period it had been an interesting question to me why aborigines of the forest were more intractable and coy than natives of the open country. The same methods had been applied, the dangling of some bright or gaudy article of barter, the strings of beads of dazzling colour, suspended patiently, the artful speech, the alluring smile and gesture, all were resorted to for long hours, but always ending with disappointment and postponement to a more leisurely occasion. But the reason is that the forest has been always a handy fastness for retreat, the suspicion of the stranger, and the convenient depth of trackless woods plead strongly against some indefinite risk. The least advance causes a precipitate backward movement until he gains the limits of the forest, and then he stands to take a last survey, and finally disappears into the gloom with an air of "It won't do, you know; you can't come over me." Whereas in the open country the native has generally some coign of vantage, some eminence, a tree or an ant-hill, from the crest of which he has taken his observations, and been warned and informed of the character of the strangers, in the forest the stranger meets the tenant of the woods abruptly; he has advanced out of the unknown, with purpose unfathomed. Surprise is in the face of one, terror marks the face of the other. [Illustration: BARUTI FINDS HIS BROTHER.] Baruti hailed, and the canoes advanced towards us with a tediously slow process, but finally they approached within easy hearing. He recognized some of the canoemen, and informed them that they had no cause for fear. He asked for a person whose name he uttered, and the wild men hallooed the word with splendid lung-power across the river, until some one responded, and embarked in a canoe and approached. This turned out to be Baruti's elder brother. Baruti demanded to know how his brother fared, after so many year of absence. The brother eyed him vacantly, could not recognize any feature in him, and grunted his doubt. Baruti mentioned the name of his parents, that of his father, and afterwards that of his mother. Great interest now manifested itself in his brother's face, and he skilfully drew his canoe nearer. "If you are my brother, tell me some incident, that I may know you." "Thou hast a scar on thy arm--there, on the right. Dost thou not remember the crocodile?" This was enough; the young, broad-chested native gave a shout of joy, and roared out the discovery to his countrymen on the further bank, and Baruti for the first time shed tears. The young fellow drew near to the ship, forgot his fears of the strangers, and gave Baruti a frantic hug, and the other canoes advanced to participate in the joy of the two restored brothers. In the evening Baruti was offered his choice of staying in his village among his tribe, or of following our adventures; at the same time he was advised not to leave us, as life among the Basoko would be very insecure with the Arabs in such close proximity as Stanley Falls. The lad appeared to think so too, and so declined to be restored to his native land and tribe; but a day or two after reaching Yambuya he altered his mind, came into my tent in the dead of night, armed himself with my Winchester rifle and a brace of Smith and Wesson revolvers, a supply of rifle and revolver cartridges, took possession of a silver road-watch, a silver pedometer, a handsome belt with fitted pouches, a small sum of money, and, possessing himself of a canoe, disappeared down river to some parts unknown, most probably to his tribe. At any rate, we have never seen or heard of him since. Peace be with him! On the 15th of June we arrived opposite Yambuya villages, situated on the left bank of the Aruwimi, 96 miles above the confluence of the Aruwimi and the Congo. CHAPTER VI. AT YAMBUYA. We land at Yambuya villages--The _Stanley_ leaves for Equator Station--Fears regarding Major Barttelot and the _Henry Reed_--Safe arrival--Instructions to Major Barttelot and Mr. Jameson respecting the Rear Column--Major Barttelot's doubts as to Tippu-Tib's good faith--A long conversation with Major Barttelot--Memorandum for the officers of the Advance Column--Illness of Lieutenant Stairs--Last night at Yambuya--Statements as to our forces and accoutrements. We were now over 1300 miles from the sea. Opposite to us were the villages which we hoped, with the goodwill of the natives, to occupy temporarily as a depot for the men and stores left at Bolobo and Leopoldville, 125 men and about 600 porter-loads of impedimenta; if not with the natives' goodwill by fair purchase of the privilege, then by force. On an exploring visit in 1883 I had attempted to conciliate them without any permanent result. We had a very serious object in view now. In prospective we saw only the distant ports of the Nile and the Albert Nyanza, defended by men ever casting anxious glances to every cardinal point of the compass, expectant of relief, as they must by this time be well informed by our couriers from Zanzibar; but between us and them was a broad region justly marked with whiteness on the best maps extant. Looking at that black wall of forest which had been a continuous bank of tall woods from Bolobo hitherto, except when disparted by the majestic streams pouring their voluminous currents to the parent river, each of us probably had his own thoughts far hidden in the recesses of the mind. Mine were of that ideal Governor in the midst of his garrisons, cheering and encouraging his valiant soldiers, pointing with hand outstretched to the direction whence the expected relief would surely approach if it were the will of God, and in the distance beyond I saw in my imagination the Mahdist hordes advancing with frantic cries and thrilling enthusiasm crying out, "Yallah, Yallah," until from end to end of the swaying lines the cry was heard rolling through the host of fervid and fanatical warriors, and on the other sides multitudes of savages vowed to extermination biding their time, and between them and us was this huge area of the unknown without a track or a path. [Illustration: A TYPICAL VILLAGE ON THE LOWER ARUWIMI.] Ammunition was served out by the captains of the companies, and instructions were issued to them to have steam up on board their respective steamers that we might commence the first most important move preparatory to marching towards the Albert Nyanza. At six o'clock in the morning of the 16th of June the _Peace_ glided from her berth until she was abreast of the _Stanley_, and when near enough to be heard, I requested the officers to await my signal. Then, steaming gently across the river, we attempted to soothe the fears and quiet the excitement of the natives by remaining abreast of the great crowd that stood upon the bluffy bank fifty feet above us, regarding us with wonder and curiosity. Our interpreter was well able to make himself understood, for the natives of the lower Aruwimi speak but one language. After an hour's interchange of compliments and friendly phrases, they were induced to send a few of the boldest down to the river's edge, and by a slight movement of the helm the current pushed the steamer close to the bank, where another hour was passed in entreaty and coaxing on our part, denials and refusals on the other. We succeeded in the purchase of one of their knives for a liberal quantity of beads! Encouraged by this, we commenced to negotiate for leave to reside in their village for a few weeks at a price in cloth, beads, wire, or iron, but it was met with consistent and firm denial for another hour. [Illustration: OUR LANDING AT YAMBUYA.] It was now nine o'clock, my throat was dry, the sun was getting hot, and I signalled to the steamer _Stanley_ to come across and join us, and when near enough, according to agreement a second signal caused the steam whistles to sound, and under cover of the deafening sounds, pent up as they were by the lofty walls of the forest, both steamers were steered to the shore, and the Zanzibaris and Soudanese scramble up the steep sides of the bluff like monkeys, and when the summit was gained not a villager was in sight. We found Yambuya settlement to consist of a series of villages of conical huts extending along the crest of the bank, whence far-reaching views of the Aruwimi up and down stream could be obtained. The companies were marched to their respective quarters. Guards were set at the end of every path leading out. Some of the men were detailed to cut wood for a palisade, others to collect fuel, and several squads were despatched to ascertain the extent of the fields and their locality. In the afternoon two natives from a village below Yambuya made their appearance with a flattering confidence in their demeanour. They belonged to the Baburu tribes, to which these various fragments of tribes between Stanley Falls and the Lower Aruwimi belong. They sold us a few bananas, were well paid in return, and invited to return with more food, and assurance was given that they need be under no alarm. On the next day men were sent to collect manioc from the fields, others were sent to construct a palisade, a ditch was traced, workers were appointed to dig a trench for sinking the stockade poles, woodcutters were sent to work to prepare to load the steamers with fuel, that with their weakened crews they might not be surprised on their return journey to the Pool, and everywhere was life and activity. Several captures were made in the woods, and after being shown everything, the natives were supplied with handfuls of beads to convey the assurance that no fear ought to be entertained of us and no harm done to them. On the 19th fuel sufficient had been cut for six days' steaming for the _Stanley_ with which she could proceed to Equator Station. A cheque was drawn for £50 in favour of the Captain, and another for a similar amount for the engineer, on Ransom, Bouverie & Co., and both were handed in their presence to Mr. Jameson to be presented to them on their return from Stanley Pool, provided they safely reached Yambuya about the middle of August. A valuable jewel was sent to Lieutenant Liebrichts as a token of my great regard for him. The _Stanley_ left next morning with my letters to the Emin Relief Committee. The _Peace_ was detained for the sake of accompanying her consort, the _Henry Reed_, which was now hourly expected from Stanley Falls according to the instructions given to Major Barttelot, as she ought to have reached us on the 19th. In a wild country like this, cannibals in the forest on either hand, and thousands of slave raiders in such a close vicinity as Stanley Falls, we were naturally prone to suspect the occurrence of serious events, if one's expectations were not promptly and punctually realized. Major Barttelot had passed the mouth of the Aruwimi on the 11th inst. in command of the steamer _Henry Reed_, conveying Tippu-Tib and party to a settlement from which an English commandant and garrison had been precipitately ousted. True, the Arab chief had been very confident in his manner, and earnest in the assurance that in nine days after arriving at his settlement he would present himself at Yambuya with 600 carriers in accordance with his agreement, and I was loth to believe that he was in any way responsible for this detention of the Major. Yet the Major should have reached Stanley Falls on the 13th, on the evening of the 14th he should have been at the mouth of the Aruwimi again, and on the 16th at Yambuya; that is, provided the Major was gifted with the spirit of literal performance and permitted nothing to tempt him to delay. It was now the 21st. The officers were confident that nothing had occurred but the delays natural to circumstances of existence in Africa, but hourly I found myself straying to the edge of the bluff sweeping the view down river with my glass. On the 22nd my uneasiness was so great that I penned an order to Lieutenant Stairs to take fifty of the best men, and the Maxim machine gun, to proceed down river on the morning of the 23rd with the _Peace_ to search for the _Henry Reed_, and if all other eventualities mentioned and explained had not transpired to proceed to Stanley Falls. On arriving before this settlement if the vessel was seen at the landing-place, and his friendly signals as he advanced were not responded to, he was to prepare everything for assault and re-capture of the steamer, and to hurry back to me with the news if unsuccessful. At 5 P.M., however, the Zanzibaris rang out the welcome cry of "Sail ho!" Barttelot was safe, no accident had occurred. Tippu-Tib had not captured the vessel, the Soudanese had not mutinied against the Major, the natives had not assaulted the sleeping camp by night, the steamer had not been sunk by a snag nor had she been run aground, and the boat for which we were morally responsible to the Mission was in as good order and condition as when she left Stanley Pool. But in Africa it is too wearing to be the victim of such anxieties. The Major had been simply detained by various mischances--fighting with natives, palaver with Tippu-Tib and men, &c. &c. Two days later the steamers _Peace_ and _Henry Reed_ were loaded with fuel and despatched homeward down river, and we had severed the last link with civilization for many a month to come. On this day I delivered the following letter of instructions to Major Barttelot, and a copy of it to Mr. J. S. Jameson his second in command. _June 24th, 1887._ _To_ Major Barttelot, &c., &c., &c. Sir,--As the senior of those officers accompanying me on the Emin Pasha Relief Expedition, the command of this important post naturally devolves on you. It is also for the interest of the Expedition that you accept this command, from the fact that your Soudanese company, being only soldiers, and more capable of garrison duty than the Zanzibaris, will be better utilized than on the road. The steamer _Stanley_ left Yambuya on the 22nd of this month for Stanley Pool. If she meets with no mischance she ought to be at Leopoldville on the 2nd of July. In two days more she will be loaded with about 500 loads of our goods, which were left in charge of Mr. J. R. Troup. This gentleman will embark, and on the 4th of July I assume that the _Stanley_ will commence her ascent of the river, and arrive at Bolobo on the 9th. Fuel being ready, the 125 men in charge of Messrs. Ward and Bonny, now at Bolobo, will embark, and the steamer will continue her journey. She will be at Bangala on the 19th of July, and arrive here on the 31st of July. Of course, the lowness of the river in that month may delay her a few days, but, having great confidence in her captain, you may certainly expect her before the 10th of August.[G] It is the non-arrival of these goods and men which compel me to appoint you as commander of this post. But as I shall shortly expect the arrival of a strong reinforcement of men,[H] greatly exceeding the advance force which must, at all hazards, push on to the rescue of Emin Pasha, I hope you will not be detained longer than a few days after the departure of the _Stanley_ on her final return to Stanley Pool in August. Meantime, pending the arrival of our men and goods, it behoves you to be very alert and wary in the command of this stockaded camp. Though the camp is favourably situated and naturally strong, a brave enemy would find it no difficult task to capture if the commander is lax in discipline, vigour and energy. Therefore I feel sure that I have made a wise choice in selecting you to guard our interests here during our absence. The interests now entrusted to you are of vital importance to this Expedition. The men you will eventually have under you consist of more than an entire third of the Expedition. The goods that will be brought up are the currency needed for transit through the regions beyond the Lakes; there will be a vast store of ammunition and provisions, which are of equal importance to us. The loss of these men and goods would be certain ruin to us, and the Advance Force itself would need to solicit relief in its turn. Therefore, weighing this matter well, I hope you will spare no pains to maintain order and discipline in your camp, and make your defences complete, and keep them in such a condition, that however brave an enemy may be he can make no impression on them. For this latter purpose I would recommend you to make an artificial ditch 6 feet wide, 3 feet deep, leading from the natural ditch, where the spring is round the stockade. A platform, like that on the southern side of the camp, constructed near the eastern as well as the western gate, would be of advantage to the strength of the camp. For remember, it is not the natives alone who may wish to assail you, but the Arabs and their followers may, through some cause or other, quarrel with you and assail your camp. Our course from here will be due east, or by magnetic compass east by south as near as possible. Certain marches that we may make may not exactly lead in the direction aimed at. Nevertheless, it is the south-west corner of Lake Albert, near or at Kavalli, that is our destination. When we arrive there we shall form a strong camp in the neighbourhood, launch our boat, and steer for Kibero, in Unyoro, to hear from Signor Casati, if he is there, of the condition of Emin Pasha. If the latter is alive, and in the neighbourhood of the Lake, we shall communicate with him, and our after conduct must be guided by what we shall learn of the intentions of Emin Pasha. We may assume that we shall not be longer than a fortnight with him before deciding on our return towards the camp along the same road traversed by us. We will endeavour, by blazing trees and cutting saplings along our road, to leave sufficient traces of the route taken by us. We shall always take, by preference, tracks leading eastward. At all crossings where paths intersect, we shall hoe up and make a hole a few inches deep across all paths not used by us, besides blazing trees when possible. It may happen, should Tippu-Tib have sent the full number of adults promised by him to me, viz., 600 men (able to carry loads), and the _Stanley_ has arrived safely with the 125 men left by me at Bolobo, that you will feel yourself sufficiently competent to march the column, with all the goods brought by the _Stanley_, and those left by me at Yambuya, along the road pursued by me. In that event, which would be very desirable, you will follow closely our route, and before many days we should most assuredly meet. No doubt you will find our bomas intact and standing, and you should endeavour to make your marches so that you could utilise these as you marched. Better guides than those bomas of our route could not be made. If you do not meet them in the course of two days' march, you may rest assured that you are not on our route. It may happen, also, that though Tippu-Tib has sent some men, he has not sent enough to carry the goods with your own force. In that case you will, of course, use your discretion as to what goods you can dispense with to enable you to march. For this purpose you should study your list attentively. 1st. Ammunition, especially fixed, is most important. 2nd. Beads, brass wire, cowries and cloth, rank next. 3rd. Private luggage. 4th. Powder and caps. 5th. European provisions. 6th. Brass rods as used on the Congo. 7th. Provisions (rice, beans, peas, millet, biscuits). Therefore you must consider, after rope, sacking, tools, such as shovels (never discard an axe or bill-hook), how many sacks of provisions you can distribute among your men to enable you to march--whether half your brass rods in the boxes could not go also, and there stop. If you still cannot march, then it would be better to make two marches of six miles twice over, if you prefer marching to staying for our arrival, than throw too many things away. With the _Stanley's_ final departure from Yambuya, you should not fail to send a report to Mr. William Mackinnon, c/o Gray, Dawes and Co., 13, Austin Friars, London, of what has happened at your camp in my absence, or when I started away eastward; whether you have heard of or from me at all, when you do expect to hear, and what you purpose doing. You should also send him a true copy of this order, that the Relief Committee may judge for themselves whether you have acted, or propose to act, judiciously. Your present garrison shall consist of 80 rifles, and from 40 to 50 supernumeraries. The _Stanley_ is to bring you within a few weeks 50 more rifles and 75 supernumeraries, under Messrs. Troup, Ward and Bonny. I associate Mr. J. S. Jameson with you at present. Messrs. Troup, Ward and Bonny, will submit to your authority. In the ordinary duties of the defence, and the conduct of the camp or of the march, there is only one chief, which is yourself; but, should any vital step be proposed to be taken, I beg you will take the voice of Mr. Jameson also. And when Messrs, Troup and Ward are here, pray admit them to your confidence, and let them speak freely their opinions. I think I have written very clearly upon everything that strikes me as necessary. Your treatment of the natives, I suggest, should depend entirely upon their conduct to you. Suffer them to return to the neighbouring villages in peace, and if you can in any manner by moderation, small gifts occasionally of brass rods, &c., hasten an amicable intercourse, I should recommend you doing so. Lose no opportunity of obtaining all kinds of information respecting the natives, the position of the various villages in your neighbourhood, &c., &c. I have the honour to be, your obedient servant, Henry M. Stanley. _Commanding Expedition._ The Major withdrew to read it, and then requested Mr. Jameson to make a few copies. About two o'clock the Major returned to me and asked for an interview. He said he desired to speak with me concerning Tippu-Tib. "I should like to know, sir, something more regarding this Arab. When I was delayed a few days ago at the Falls, you were pleased to deliver some rather energetic orders to Lieutenant Stairs. It strikes me that you are exceedingly suspicious of him, and if so, I really cannot see why you should have anything to do with such a man." "Well, sir, I shall be pleased to discuss him with you, or any other subject," I replied. "Three days before your steamer was sighted coming up river, I must confess to have been very anxious about you. You were in command of a steamer which belonged to other parties to whom we were pledged to return her within a certain time. You had a company of forty soldiers, Soudanese, as your escort. The vessel was well fitted and in perfect order. We knew the time you ought to have occupied, provided no accident occurred, and as your instructions were positively to depart from Stanley Falls, as soon as the cow promised by our friend Ngalyema was aboard, and if she was not forthcoming within an hour you were to slip away down river. Assuming that no accident happened and that you obeyed orders, you should have been here on the evening of the 16th, or on the 17th at the latest. You did not arrive until 5 P.M. on the 22nd. "We have no telegraphs here, or posts. As we could gain no intelligence of you, my anxiety about you created doubts. As one day after another passed, doubts became actual dread that something unaccountable had occurred. Had you struck a snag, run aground, like the _Stanley_ and _Royal_ did, as almost all steamers do, had you been assaulted by natives in the night like Captain Deane in the A. I. A. at Bunga, had your Soudanese mutinied as they threatened to do at Lukungu, had you been shot as a Soudanese regiment shot all their white officers in the Soudan once, had you been detained by force because Tippu-Tib had been over persuaded to do by those young fire-eaters of Arabs at the Falls, had you quarrelled with those young fellows, the two Salims, as Stairs and Jephson did below Stanley Pool. If not, what had occurred? Could I, could anybody suggest anything else?" "But I was obliged----" "Never mind, my dear Major, say no more about it. Don't think of defending yourself. I am not mentioning these things to complain of you, but replying to your question. All is well that ends safely. "Now as to Tippu-Tib. I have nothing to do with Tippu-Tib, but from necessity, for your sake as well as mine. He claims this is his territory. We are on it as his friends. Supposing we had not made agreement with him, how long should we be left to prepare for the march to the Albert, or how long would you be permitted to remain here, before you had to answer the question why you were on his territory? Could I possibly leave you here, with my knowledge of what they are capable of--alone? With eighty rifles against probably 3000, perhaps 5000 guns? Why, Major, I am surprised that you who have seen Stanley Falls, and some hundreds of the Arabs should ask the question? "You have accompanied Tippu-Tib and nearly a hundred of his followers from Zanzibar. You have seen what boyish delight they took in their weapons, their Winchesters, and valuable double-barrelled rifles. You know the story of Deane's fight at Stanley Falls. You know that Tippu-Tib is vindictive, that his fiery nephews would like a fight better than peace. You know that he meditated war against the Congo State, and that I had to pass on a relief mission through a portion of his territory. Why how can you--grown to the rank of Major--ask such questions, or doubt the why and wherefore of acts which are as clear as daylight? "Our transport the _Madura_ was in Zanzibar harbour. The owner of this district, as he calls himself, was preparing munitions against all white men on the Congo, resenting and resentful. Would it have been prudent for me to have left this man in such a state? That he prepared for war against the State did not materially affect me, but that he intended doing so while I had to pass through his territory, and in his neighbourhood on a humane mission was everything. Therefore I was as much interested in this affair of patching up a peace between the Congo State and King Leopold as His Majesty himself was, and more so indeed. "And I suppose you will ask me next how does it affect your personal interests? Have you not told me over and over again that you are burning to accompany us, that you would infinitely prefer marching to waiting here? And is it not understood according to your letter of instructions--that failing Tippu-Tib's appearance with his 600 carriers, you are to make double-stages, or triple-stages rather than stay at Yambuya? "Look at these pencilled calculations on this paper--nay, you can keep it, if you please. They represent what you can do with your own men, and what you can do assuming that Tippu-Tib really keeps to the letter of his contract. "Now I have grounded my instructions principally on your impetuous answer to me at Bolobo. 'By Jove! I will not stay a day at Yambuya after I get my column together!' "See here! The letter says--'It may happen that Tippu-Tib has sent some men, but not sent enough; therefore, you know, use your discretion; dispense with No. 7, provisions, such as rice, beans, peas, millet, biscuits. See how many sacks of provisions you can issue out to your men--they will eat them fast enough, I warrant you.' "It goes on--'If you still cannot march, then it would be better to make marches of six miles twice over--that is, to go one march of six miles, and then return to fetch another lot, and march forward again. Such as my work was on the Congo, when with 68 men I made 33 round trips on the stretch of 52 miles to take 2000 loads--5 immense waggons and make a waggon road, building bridges, etc.' That pencilled paper in your hand informs you how many miles you can do in this fashion in six months. "But this is how my pact with Tippu-Tib affects you personally. If Tippu-Tib performs his contract faithfully, then on the arrival of the _Stanley_ with Messrs. Ward, Troup, and Bonny, and their men, you can set out from Yambuya within a day or two, and perhaps overtake us, or on our return from the Albert we shall meet before many days. "Now which would you personally prefer doing? Travelling backwards and forwards from camp to camp, twice, or perhaps thrice, or have Tippu-Tib with 600 carriers to help your 200 carriers, and march at a swinging pace through the woods on our track, straight for the Albert Nyanza?" "Oh, there is not a doubt of it. I should prefer marching straight away and try and catch up with you. Naturally." "Well, do you begin to understand why I have been sweet, and good, and liberal to Tippu-Tib? Why I have given him free passage and board for himself and followers from Zanzibar to Stanley Falls? Why I have shared the kid and the lamb with him?" "Quite." "Not quite yet, I am afraid, Major, otherwise you would not have doubted me. There is still a serious reason. "Assuming, for instance, that I had not brought Tippu-Tib here, that the Arabs at Stanley Falls were not wrathy with white men for Deane's affair, or that they would fear attacking you. They had but to affect friendship with you, sell you goats and food, and then tell your Zanzibaris that their settlement was but six or seven days away--where they had plenty of rice and fish and oil to tempt three-fourths of your men to desert in a few days, while you were innocently waiting for the Bolobo contingent; and no sooner would the other fellows have reached here than they would hear of the desertion of their comrades for the Falls, and follow suit either wholesale or by twos and threes, sixes and tens, until you would have been left stranded completely. Is it not the fear of this desertion that was one of the reasons I chose the Congo? Having Tippu-Tib as my friend and engaged to me, I have put a stop to the possibility of any wholesale desertion. "Let these reasons sink into your mind, Major, my dear fellow. Yet withal, your column may be ruined if you are not very careful. Be tender and patient with your people, for they are as skittish as young colts. Still, it was with these people, or men like them, that I crossed Africa--followed the course of the Congo to the sea, and formed the Congo State." "Well, now, say do you think Tippu-Tib will keep his contract, and bring his 600 people?" asked the Major. "You ought to know that as well as I myself. What did he say to you before you left him?" "He said he would be here in nine days, as he told you at Bangala. Inshallah!" replied the Major, mimicking the Arab. "If Tippu-Tib is here in nine days, it will be the biggest wonder I have met." "Why?" asked the Major, looking up half wonderingly. "Because to provide 600 carriers is a large order. He will not be here in fifteen days or even twenty days. We must be reasonable with the man. He is not an European--taught to be rigidly faithful to his promise. Inshallah! was it he said? To-morrow--Inshallah means the day after--or five days hence, or ten days. But what does it matter to you if he does not come within twenty days? The _Stanley_ will not be here until the 10th, or perhaps the middle of August; that will be about seven weeks--forty-two days--hence. He has abundance of time. What do you want to look after 600 men in your camp doing nothing, waiting for the steamer? Idle men are mischievous. No; wait for him patiently until the _Stanley_ comes, and if he has not appeared by that time he will not come at all." "But it will be a severe job for us if he does not appear at all, to carry 500 or 600 loads with 200 carriers, to and fro, backwards and forwards, day after day! "Undoubtedly, my dear Major, it is not a light task by any means. But which would you prefer; stay here, waiting for us to return from the Albert, or to proceed little by little--gaining something each day--and be absorbed in your work?" "Oh, my God! I think staying here for months would be a deuced sight the worse." "Exactly what I think, and, therefore, I made these calculations for you. I assure you, Major, if I were sure that you could find your way to the Albert, I would not mind doing this work of yours myself, and appoint you commander of the advance column, rather than have any anxiety about you." "But tell me, Mr. Stanley, how long do you suppose it will be before we meet?" "God knows. None can inform me what lies ahead here, or how far the forest extends inland. Whether there are any roads, or what kind of natives, cannibals, incorrigible savages, dwarfs, gorillas. I have not the least idea. I wish I had; and would give a handsome sum for the knowledge even. But that paper in your hand, on which I have calculated how long it will take me to march to the Albert Nyanza, is based on this fact. In 1874 and 1875 I travelled 720 miles in 103 days. The distance from here to the Albert Nyanza is about 330 geographical miles in a straight line. Well, in 1874-75, I travelled 330 geographical miles--Bagamoyo to Vinyata, in Ituru, in 64 days; from Lake Uhimba to Ujiji, 330 miles, in 54 days. These were, of course, open countries, with tolerably fair roads, whereas this is absolutely unknown. Is it all a forest?--then it will be an awful work. How far does the forest reach inland? A hundred--two hundred--three hundred miles? There is no answer. Let us assume we can do the journey to the Albert in three months; that I am detained a fortnight, and that I am back in three months afterwards. Well, I shall meet you coming toward me, if Tippu-Tib is not with you, the latter part of October or November. It is all down on that paper. "But it is immaterial. The thing has to be done. We will go ahead, we will blaze the trees, and mark our track through the forest for you. We will avail ourselves of every advantage--any path easterly will suit me until I bore through and through it, and come out on the plains or pastureland. And where we go, you can go. If we can't go on, you will hear from us somehow. Are you now satisfied?" "Perfectly," he replied. "I have it all here," touching his forehead--"and this paper and letter will be my reminders. But there is one thing I should like to speak about, it refers to something you said to me in London." "Ah, indeed. What was said that was in any way peculiar?" I asked. "Well"--here there was a little hesitation--"do you remember when Mr. ----, of the India Office, introduced me to you? The words you used sounded strangely, as though someone had been warning you against me." "My dear Barttelot, take my word for it, I don't remember to have heard the name of Barttelot before I heard your name. But you interest me. What could I have possibly said that was any way peculiar to cling to your memory like this? I remember the circumstance well?" "The fact is," he said, "you said something about 'forbearance,' which reminded me that I had heard that word before, when General ---- pitched into me about punishing a Somali mutineer in the desert during the Soudan campaign. I was all alone with the Somalis when they turned on me, and I sprang upon the ringleader at last when there was no other way of reducing them to order and pistolled him, and at once the Somalis became quiet as lambs. I thought that General ----, who is not remarkable for goodwill to me, had mentioned the affair to you." "Indeed. I never heard the story before, and I do not understand how General ---- could have warned me, considering he could not have known you were going to apply for membership. It was your own face which inspired the word forbearance. Your friend introduced you to me as a distinguished officer full of pluck and courage; upon which I said that those qualities were common characteristics of British officers, but I would prefer to hear of another quality which would be of equal value for a peculiar service in Africa--and that was forbearance. You will excuse me now, I hope, for saying that I read on your face immense determination and something like pugnacity. Now a pugnacious fellow, though very useful at times, you know, is not quite so useful for an expedition like this--which is to work in an atmosphere of irritability--as a man who knows not only how and when to fight, but also how to forbear. Why, a thousand causes provoke irritation and friction here between himself and fellow-officers his own followers and natives, and frequently between himself and his own person. Here is bad food always, often none at all, a miserable diet at the best, no stimulant, incessant toil and worry, intense discomfort, relaxed muscles, weariness amounting to fainting, and, to cap all, dreadful racking fevers, urging one to curse the day he ever thought of Africa. A pugnacious man is naturally ill-tempered, and unless he restrains his instincts, and can control his impulses, he is in hot water every minute of his existence, and will find cross rubs with every throb of his heart. To be able to forbear, to keep down rigorously all bitter feelings, to let the thoughts of his duty, his position, plead against the indulgence of his passions. Ah, that quality, while it does not diminish courage, prevents the waste of natural force; but I don't wish to preach to you, you know what I mean. "And now to close--one word more about Tippu-Tib. Do you see that Maxim out there with its gaping muzzle. I regard Tippu-Tib somewhat as I do that. It is an excellent weapon for defence. A stream of bullets can be poured out of it, but it may get jammed, and its mechanism become deranged from rust or want of good oil. In that event we rely on our Remingtons, and Winchester Repeaters. If Tippu-Tib is disposed to help us--he will be a most valuable auxiliary--failure becomes impossible, we shall complete our work admirably. If he is not disposed, then we must do what we can with our own men, and goodwill covers a multitude of errors. "Do you remember that in 1876 Tippu-Tib broke his contract with me, and returned to Nyangwe, leaving me alone. Well, with about 130 of my own men, I drove my way down the Congo despite his sneer. You said you met Dr. Lenz, the Austrian traveller, at Lamu, after having failed to reach Emin Pasha. Why did he fail? He relied on Tippu-Tib alone; he had no private reserve of force to fall back upon. You have over 200 carriers and 50 soldiers, besides servants and efficient companions. On the Congo work I was promised a contingent of natives to assist me. Only a few came, and those deserted; but I had a faithful reserve of sixty-eight men--they were the fellows who made the Congo State. You remember my letter to the _Times_, where I said, 'We do not want Tippu-Tib to assist us in finding Emin Pasha. We want him to carry ammunition, and on his return to bring away ivory to help pay the expenses of the Mission.' Then, as a last proof of how I regard Tippu-Tib, do not forget that written order to Lieutenant Stairs a few days ago, to rake his settlement with the machine gun upon the least sign of treachery. You have read that letter. You ought to know that the gage of battle is not thrown in the face of a trusted friend. "Now, Major, my dear fellow, don't be silly. I know you feel sore because you are not to go with us in the advance. You think you will lose some _kudos_. Not a bit of it. Ever since King David, those who remain with the stuff, and those who go to the war, receive the same honours. Besides, I don't like the word 'kudos.' The kudos impulse is like the pop of a ginger-beer bottle, good for a V.C. or an Albert medal, but it effervesces in a month of Africa. It is a damp squib, Major. Think rather of Tennyson's lines:-- "Not once or twice in our fair island story Has the path of duty been the way to glory." There, shake hands upon this, Major. For us the word is 'Right Onward'; for you 'Patience and Forbearance.' I want my tea. I am dry with talking." On the 25th the stockade was completed all round the camp, the ditch was approaching completion. Barttelot superintended the works on one side; Jephson, in shirt-sleeves, looked over another. Nelson was distributing the European provisions--share and share alike; our Doctor, cheery, smiling, anxious as though he were at a surgical operation, was constructing a gate, and performed the carpenter's operation in such a manner that I wrote in my diary that evening, "He is certainly one of the best fellows alive." Jameson was busy copying the letter of instructions. Stairs was in bed with a severe bilious fever. A Soudanese soldier, as innocent as a lamb cropping sweet grass before a fox's covert, trespassed for the sake of loot near a native village, and was speared through the abdomen. It is the second fatal case resulting from looting. It will not be our last. We place a Soudanese on guard; his friend comes along, exchanges a word or two with him, and passes on, with the completest unconsciousness of danger that can be imagined. If not slain outright, he returns with a great gash in his body and a look of death in his face. The Zanzibari is set to labour at cutting wood or collecting manioc; he presently drops his task, utters an excuse for withdrawing for a moment--a thought glances across his vacuous mind, and under the impulse he hastes away, to be reported by-and-by as missing. On the 26th I drew out a memorandum for the officers of the Advance Column, of which the following is a copy:-- We propose to commence our march the day after to-morrow, the 28th of June, 1887. The distance we have to traverse is about 330 geographical miles in an air line--or about 550 miles English, provided we do not find a path more than ordinarily winding. If we make an average of ten miles per day we ought to be able to reach the Albert within two months. In 1871 my Expedition after Livingstone performed 360 English miles in 54 days = about 6-1/2 miles per day. In 1874 my Expedition across Africa performed 360 English miles in 64 days, viz., from Bagamoyo to Vinyata = 5-3/4 miles per day. In 1874-75 the same Expedition reached Lake Victoria from Bagamoyo, 720 miles distance in 103 days = 7 miles per day. In 1876 the same Expedition traversed 360 miles, the distance from Lake Uhimba to Ujiji in 59 days = 6-1/10 miles per day. Therefore if we travel the distance to Kavalli, say 550 miles at an average of 6 miles per day, we should reach Lake Albert about the last day of September. A conception of the character of more than half of the country to be traversed may be had by glancing at our surroundings. It will be a bush and forested country with a native path more or less crooked connecting the various settlements of the tribes dwelling in it. The track now and then will be intersected by others connecting the tribes north of our route and those south of it. The natives will be armed with shields, spears and knives, or with bows and arrows. As our purpose is to march on swiftly through the country, we take the natives considerably by surprise. They cannot confederate or meet us in any force, because they will have no time. Whatever hostilities we may meet will be the outcome of impulse, and that naturally an angry one. Officers must therefore be prompt to resist these impulsive attacks, and should at all times now see that their Winchester magazines are loaded, and their bearers close to them. Side arms should not be dispensed with on any account. The order of the march will be as follows: At dawn the _reveille_ will sound as usual. First by the Soudanese trumpeter attached to No. 1 Company. Second by the bugle attached to Captain Stairs's Company, No. 2--Captain Stairs. Third by the trumpeter attached to the No. 3 Company--Captain Nelson. Fourth by the drummer attached to Captain Jephson's No. 4 Company. Officers will feed early on coffee and biscuit, and see that their men are also strengthening themselves for the journey. At 6 A.M. the march of the day will begin, led by a band of 50 pioneers armed with rifles, bill-hooks and axes, forming the advance guard under myself. The main body will then follow after 15 minutes, led by an officer whose turn it is to be at the head of it, whose duty will be specially to see that he follows the route indicated by "blazing" or otherwise. This column will consist of all bearers, and all men sick or well who are not detailed for rear guard. The major part of three companies will form the column. Close to the rear of it, keeping well up, will be the officer whose turn it is to maintain order in rear of the main body. The rear guard will consist of 30 men under an officer selected for the day to protect the column from attacks in the rear. These men will not be loaded with anything beyond their private kits. No member of the Expedition must be passed by the rear guard. All stragglers must be driven on at all costs, because the person left behind is irretrievably lost. At the head of the main body will be the head-quarter tents and private luggage, immediately succeeding the officer in command. This officer will also have to be on the alert for signals by trumpets, to communicate them to those in the rear, or be ready to receive signals from the front and pass the word behind. The advance guard will "blaze" the path followed, cut down obstructing creepers, and, on arrival at camp, set to at once for building the boma or bushfence. As fast as each company arrives assistance must be given for this important work of defence. No camp is to be considered complete until it is fenced around by bush or trees. Those unemployed in this duty will erect tents. The boma must be round with two gates well masked by at least five yards of bush. The diameter of the camp should be about 250 feet. Tents and baggage piled in the centre, the huts will range around an inner circle of about 200 feet in diameter. [Illustration: DIAGRAM OF OUR FOREST CAMPS.] The above relates only to the circumstances attending the transit of a caravan through a dangerous country, unattended by more than the troubles naturally arising from the impulsive attacks of savages. The pulse of the country which we shall traverse will be felt by the advance guard, of course. If the obstacles in the front are serious, and threaten to be something more than a mere impulse, or temporary, messages will be sent to the main body announcing their character. Wherever practicable we shall camp in villages, if the natives have deserted them, for the sake of obtaining food, but such villages must be rendered defensive at once. Officers should remember that it is in the nature of their black soldiers, Soudanese, Somalis or Zanzibaris, to be thoughtless and indifferent, to scatter themselves about in the most heedless manner. They must take my assurance that more lives are lost in this manner than by open warfare. Therefore their men's lives I consider are in the hands of their officers, and the officer who will not relax his energy and rigid enforcement of orders until everything is made snug and tight for the night, will be the most valuable assistant in this Expedition for me. Arriving at the intended halting place for the night, if a village, the officer should first cast his eyes about for lodgment of his people; select such as will be uniform with those already occupied by the preceding company, and those to be occupied by the succeeding company or companies; then turn to and destroy all those lying without the occupied circle, or use their timbers, all material in the vicinity to defend his quarters from night attack by fire or spear. A cue will be given when and how to do things by the conduct of the advance guard, but the officer must not fail to ascertain what this cue is, nor wait to be told every petty detail. He must consider himself as the Father of his Company, and act always as a wise leader should act. At all such village camps, Lieutenant Stairs will see to the nightly guards being placed at the more accessible points, every company serving out details as may be necessary. During the first week we will not attempt any very long marches, that the people and ourselves may be broken in gently, but after a fourth of the distance has been made the marches will sensibly lengthen, and I anticipate that, before the half of the journey has been performed, we shall be capable of making wonderful progress. Further memoranda will be furnished when necessary. Yambuya. (Signed) Henry M. Stanley. _June 26th, 1887._ _Commanding Expedition_. I close this chapter with a quotation from my diary made on the last evening. "_Yambuya, June 27th._--Our men claimed a holiday to-day because it had been deferred until the steamers were despatched, and the camp was fortified for the protection of the garrison. Numbers of things had also to be done. Companies had to be re-organized, since several had sickened since leaving Bolobo, the weak had to be picked out, and the four companies selected for the march ought to be in as perfect condition as possible. Our pioneer's tools required numbering. Out of one hundred bill-hooks there were only twenty-six, out of one hundred axes there were left twenty-two, out of one hundred hoes there were only sixty-one, out of one hundred shovels there were but sixty-seven. All the rest had been stolen, and sold to the natives or thrown away. It is a trying work to look after such reckless people. "Three hundred and eighty-nine souls will march to-morrow--God permitting--into the absolutely unknown. From a native I have heard of names of tribes, or sections of tribes, but of their strength or disposition I know nothing. "Yesterday we made blood-brotherhood with one of the chiefs of Yambuya. As the Major was Commandant of the post, he went bravely through the ceremony, which was particularly disgusting. On the flowing blood a pinch of dirty salt was placed, and this had to be licked. The chief performed his part as though he loved it. The Major looked up and saw the cynical faces of his friends and was mortified. "'To ensure peace!' "'Even so,' replied the Major, and sacrificed his taste. "These forest natives have not been able to win any great regard from me yet. They are cowardly, and at the same time vicious. They lie oftener than any open country folk. I do not credit any statement or profession made by them. At the same time I hope that after better acquaintance there will be a change. This chief received a liberal gift from the hand of the Major, and in return he received a fortnight-old chick and a feathered bonnet of plaited cane. The oft-promised goat and ten fowls had not yet been seen. And the blood of a Soudanese soldier has been spilled, and we have not avenged it. We are either so poor in spirit, or so indifferent to the loss of a man, that a stalwart soldier, worth twenty of these natives, can be slain unavenged. Not only that, but we entreat them to come often and visit us, for they have fish and goats, fowls, eggs, and what not to sell of which we would be buyers. This perhaps will go on for some weeks more. "It is raining to-night, and the morrow's march will be an uncomfortable one. Stairs is so sick that he cannot move, and yet he is anxious to accompany us. It is rather rash to undertake carrying a man in his condition, though, if death is the issue, it comes as easy in the jungle as in the camp. Dr. Parke has made me exceedingly uncomfortable by saying that it is enteric fever. I lean to bilious fever. We shall put him in a hammock and trust for a favourable issue." The Advance Force will consist of:-- No. 1 company 113 men and boys 99 rifles " 2 " 90 " 85 " " 3 " 90 " 87 " " 4 " 90 " 86 " Officers--Self 1 " " Stairs 1 " " Nelson 1 " " Jephson 1 " " Parke 1 " European servant 1 " --- --- 389 " 357 " The garrison of Yambuya consists of:-- Soudanese 44 men 44 rifles Zanzibaris 71 " 38 " Barttelot's servants 3 " Jameson's " 2 " Sowahis 5 " Sick men 2 " Barttelot personally 1 " 3 " Jameson " 1 " 2 " --- -- 129 " 87 " --- -- Contingent at Bolobo to be joined to garrison of Yambuya:-- Zanzibaris 128 men and boys 52 rifles John Rose Troup 1 " Herbert Ward 1 " William Bonny 1 " --- --- 131 men 52 " Advance force 389 men 357 rifles Yambuya garrison 129 " 87 " Bolobo, Kinshassa, &c. 131 " 52 " --- --- 649 " 496 " --- --- Loss of men from Zanzibar to} Yambuya } 57 " 28 " --- --- 706 " 524 " --- --- ----- [G] She arrived on the 14th of August. Had been detained a few days by running on a snag. [H] Tippu-Tib's 600 carriers. CHAPTER VII. TO PANGA FALLS. An African road--Our mode of travelling through the forests--Farewell to Jameson and the Major--160 days in the forest--The Rapids of Yambuya--Attacked by natives of Yankonde--Rest at the village of Bahunga--Description of our march--The poisoned Skewers-Capture of six Babali--Dr. Parke and the bees--A tempest in the forest--Mr. Jephson puts the steel boat together--The village of Bukanda--Refuse heaps of the villages--The Aruwimi river scenery--Villages of the Bakuti and the Bakoka--The Rapids of Gwengweré--The boy Bakula-Our "chop and coffee"--The islands near Bandangi--The Baburu dwarfs--The unknown course of the river--The Somalis--Bartering at Mariri and Mupé--The Aruwimi at Mupé--The Babé manners, customs, and dress--Jephson's two adventures--Wasp Rapids--The chief of the Bwamburi--Our camp at My-yui--Canoe accident--An abandoned village--Arrival at Panga Falls--Description of the Falls. An African road generally is a foot-track tramped by travel to exceeding smoothness and hardness as of asphalt when the season is dry. It is only twelve inches wide from the habit of the natives to travel in single file one after another. When such a track is old it resembles a winding and shallow gutter, the centre has been trodden oftener than the sides--rain-water has rushed along and scoured it out somewhat--the sides of the path have been raised by humus and dust, the feet of many passengers have brushed twigs and stones and pressed the dust aside. A straight path would be shorter than the usual one formed by native travel by a third in every mile on an average. This is something like what we hoped to meet in defiling out of the gate of the intrenched camp at Yambuya, because during four preceding Expeditions into Africa we had never failed to follow such a track for hundreds of miles. Yambuya consisted of a series villages. Their inhabitants must have neighbours to the Eastward as well as to the Southward or Westward. Why not? [Illustration: MARCHING THROUGH THE FOREST.] We marched out of the gate, company after company in single file. Each with its flag, its trumpeter or drummer, each with its detail of supernumeraries, with fifty picked men as advance guard to handle the bill-hook and axe, to cut saplings, "blaze," or peel a portion of the bark of a tree a hand's-breadth, to sever the leaves and slash at the rattan, to remove all obtrusive branches that might interfere with the free passage of the hundreds of loaded porters, to cut trees to lay across streams for their passage, to form zeribas or bomas of bush and branch around the hutted camp at the end of the day's travel. The advance guard are to find a path, or, if none can be found, to choose the thinnest portions of the jungle and tunnel through without delay, for it is most fatiguing to stand in a heated atmosphere with a weighty load on the head. If no thinner jungle can be found, then through anything, however impenetrable it may appear; they must be brisk--"chap-chap"--as we say, or an ominous murmur will rise from the impatient carriers behind. They must be clever and intelligent in wood-craft; a greenhorn, or as we call him "goee-goee," must drop his bill-hook, and take the bale or box. Three hundred weary fellows are not to be trifled with, they must be brave also--quick to repel assault--arrows are poisonous, spears are deadly--their eyes must be quick to search the gloom and shade, with sense alert to recognition, and ready to act on the moment. Dawdlers and goee-goees are unbearable; they must be young, lithe, springy--my 300 behind me have no regard for the ancient or the corpulent--they would be smothered with chaff and suffocated with banter. Scores of voices would cry out, "Wherein lies this fellow's merit? Is it all in his stomach? Nay, it is in his wooden back--tut--his head is too big for a scout. He has clearly been used to hoeing. What does the field hand want on the Continent? You may see he is only a Banian slave! Nay, he is only a Consul's freed man! Bosh! he is a mission boy." Their bitter tongues pierce like swords through the armour of stupidity, and the bill-hooks with trenchant edges are wielded most manfully, and the bright keen axes flash and sever the saplings, or slice a broad strip of bark from a tree, and the bush is pierced, and the jungle gapes open, and fast on their heels continuously close presses the mile-long caravan. This is to be the order, and this the method of the march, and I have stood observing the files pass by until the last of the rear guard is out of the camp, and the Major and Jameson and the garrison next crowd out to exchange the farewell. "Now, Major, my dear fellow, we are in for it. Neck or nothing! Remember your promise and we shall meet before many months." "I vow to goodness. I shall be after you sharp. Let me once get those fellows from Bolobo and nothing shall stop me." "Well, then, God bless you--keep a stout heart--and Jameson--old man--the same to you." Captain Nelson, who heard all this, stepped up in his turn to take a parting grasp, and I strode on to the front, while the Captain placed himself at the head of the rear guard. The column had halted at the end of the villages or rather the road that Nelson the other day had commenced. "Which is the way, guide?" I asked to probably the proudest soul in the column--for it is a most exalted position to be at the head of the line. He was in a Greekish costume with a Greekish helmet à la Achilles. [Illustration: THE KIRANGOZI, OR FOREMOST MAN.] "This, running towards the sunrise," he replied. "How many hours to the next village?" "God alone knows," he answered. "Know ye not one village or country beyond here?" "Not one; how should I?" he asked. This amounted to what the wisest of us knew. "Well, then, set on in the name of God, and God be ever with us. Cling to any track that leads by the river until we find a road." "Bismillah!" echoed the pioneers, the Nubian trumpets blew the signal of "move on," and shortly the head of the column disappeared into the thick bush beyond the utmost bounds of the clearings of Yambuya. This was on the 28th day of June, and until the 5th of December, for 160 days, we marched through the forest, bush and jungle, without ever having seen a bit of greensward of the size of a cottage chamber floor. Nothing but miles and miles, endless miles of forest, in various stages of growth and various degrees of altitude, according to the ages of the trees, with varying thickness of undergrowth according to the character of the trees which afforded thicker or slighter shade. It is to the description of the march through this forest and to its strange incidents I propose to confine myself for the next few chapters, as it is an absolutely unknown region opened to the gaze and knowledge of civilized man for the first time since the waters disappeared and were gathered into the seas, and the earth became dry land. Beseeching the reader's patience, I promise to be as little tedious as possible, though there is no other manuscript or missal, printed book or pamphlet, this spring of the year of our Lord 1890, that contains any account of this region of horrors other than this book of mine. With the temperature of 86° in the shade we travelled along a path very infrequently employed, which wound under dark depths of bush. It was a slow process, interrupted every few minutes by the tangle. The bill-hooks and axes, plied by fifty men, were constantly in requisition; the creepers were slashed remorselessly, lengths of track one hundred yards or so were as fair as similar extents were difficult. At noon we looked round the elbow of the Aruwimi, which is in view of Yambuya, and saw above, about four miles, another rapid with its glancing waters as it waved in rollers in the sunshine; the rapids of Yambuya were a little below us. Beneath the upper rapids quite a fleet of canoes hovered about it. There was much movement and stir, owing, of course, to the alarm that the Yambuyas had communicated to their neighbours. At 4 P.M. we observed that the point we had gazed at abreast of the rapids consisted of islands. These were now being crowded with the women and children of Yankondé, whom as yet we had not seen. About a hundred canoes formed in the stream crowded with native warriors, and followed the movements of the column as it appeared and disappeared in the light and into the shadows, jeering, mocking, and teasing. The head of the column arrived at the foot of a broad cleared road, twenty feet wide and three hundred yards long, and at the further end probably three hundred natives of the town of Yankondé stood gesticulating, shouting, with drawn bows in their hands. In all my experience of Africa I had seen nothing of this kind. The pioneers halted, reflecting, and remarking somewhat after this manner: "What does this mean? The pagans have carved a broad highway out of the bush to their town for us, and yet there they are at the other end, ready for a fight! It is a trap, lads, of some kind, so look sharp." With the bush they had cut they had banked and blocked all passage to the forest on either side of the road for some distance. But, with fifty pairs of sharp eyes searching around above and below, we were not long in finding that this apparent highway through the bush bristled with skewers six inches long sharpened at both ends, which were driven into the ground half their length, and slightly covered with green leaves so carelessly thrown over them that we had thought at first these strewn leaves were simply the effect of clearing bush. Forming two lines of twelve men across the road, the first line was ordered to pick out the skewers, the second line was ordered to cover the workers with their weapons, and at the first arrow shower to fire. A dozen scouts were sent on either flank of the road to make their way into the village through the woods. We had scarcely advanced twenty yards along the cleared way before volumes of smoke broke out of the town, and a little cloud of arrows came towards us, but falling short. A volley was returned, the skewers were fast being picked out, and an advance was steadily made until we reached the village at the same time that the scouts rushed out of the underwood, and as all the pioneers were pushed forward the firing was pretty lively, under cover of which the caravan pressed through the burning town to a village at its eastern extremity, as yet unfired. Along the river the firing was more deadly. The very noise was sufficient to frighten a foe so prone as savages to rely on the terrors of sound, but unfortunately the noise was as hurtful as it was alarming. Very many, I fear, paid the penalty of the foolish challenge. The blame is undoubtedly due to the Yambuyas, who must have invented fables of the most astounding character to cause their neighbours to attempt stopping a force of nearly four hundred rifles. It was nearly 9 P.M. before the rear-guard entered camp. Throughout the night the usual tactics were resorted to by the savages to create alarm and disturbance, such as vertically dropping assegais and arrows heavily tipped with poison, with sudden cries, whoops, howls, menaces, simultaneous blasts of horn-blowing from different quarters, as though a general attack was about to be made. Strangers unacquainted with the craftiness of these forest satyrs might be pardoned for imagining that daylight only was required for our complete extermination. Some of these tactics I knew before in younger days, but there was still something to be gleaned from the craft of these pure pagans. The camp was surrounded by sentries, and the only orders given were to keep strict silence and sharpen their eyesight. In the morning a narrow escape was reported. A man had wakened to find a spear buried in the earth, penetrating his sleeping cloth and mat on each side of him, slightly pinning him to his bedding. Two were slightly wounded with arrows. We wandered about for ten minutes or so looking for a track next morning, and at last discovered one leading through a vast square mileage of manioc fields, and at the little village of Bahunga, four miles S.E. of Yankondé, we gladly rested, our object being not to rush at first setting out after a long river voyage, but to accustom the people little by little to the long journey before them. On the 30th we lit on a path which connected a series of fourteen villages, each separate and in line, surrounded by their respective fields, luxuriant with crops of manioc, or, as some call it, the cassava. We did not fail to observe, however, that some disaster had occurred many months before, judging from the traces. The villages we passed through were mostly newly built, in the sharp, conical--candle-extinguisher--or rather four-angled spiry type; burnt poles, ruins of the former villages, marked the sites of former dwellings. Here and there were blazings on trees, and then I knew that Arabs and Manyuema must have visited here--probably Tippu-Tib's brother. The following day our march was through a similar series of villages, twelve in number, with a common, well-trodden track running from one to another. In this distance sections of the primeval forest separated each village; along the track were pitfalls for some kind of large forest game, or bow-traps fixed for small animals, such as rabbits, squirrels, rats, small monkeys. In the neighbourhood of each village the skewers were plentiful in the ground, but as yet no hurt had been received from them. Another serious inconvenience of forest travel was experienced on this day. Every fifty yards or so a great tree, its diameter breast high, lay prostrate across the path over which the donkeys had to be assisted with a frequency that was becoming decidedly annoying. Between twenty and fifty of these had to be climbed over by hundreds of men, not all of whom were equally expert at this novel travelling, and these obstructions by the delays thus occasioned began to be complained of as very serious impediments. The main approaches to the many villages were studded with these poisoned skewers, which made every one except the booted whites tread most gingerly. Nor could the Europeans be altogether indifferent, for, slightly leaning, the skewer was quite capable of piercing the thickest boot-leather and burying the splinters of its head deep in the foot--an agony of so dreadful a nature that was worth the trouble of guarding against. At 3 P.M. we camped near some pools overhung by water lilies far removed from a village, having had three wounded during the traverse through the settlements. This morning, about three hours before dawn, the camp was wakened by howls, and loud and continued horn-blowing. These were shortly after hushed, and the voices of two men were heard so clear, and distinct that many like myself attempted to pierce the intense darkness in the vain effort to see these midnight orators. The first Speaker said, "Hey, strangers, where are you going?" The Parasite echoed, "Where are you going?" _Speaker._ This country has no welcome for you. _Parasite._ No welcome for you. _Speaker._ All men will be against you. _Parasite._ Against you. _Speaker._ And you will be surely slain. _Parasite._ Surely slain. _Speaker._ Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-aah. _Parasite._ Ah-ah-aaah. _Speaker._ Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooooh. _Parasite._ Ooh-ooh-ooooooh. This parasite was such a palpable parasite, with such a sense of humour--that it raised such a chorus of laughter so sudden, startling, and abrupt, that scared speaker and parasite away in precipitate haste. At dawn of the 2nd, feeling somewhat uneasy at the fact that the track which brought us to these pools was not made by man but by elephants, and feeling certain that the people had made no provision of food beyond the day, I sent 200 men back to the villages to procure each a load of manioc. By the manner these men performed this duty, the reflection came into my mind that they had little or no reasoning faculties, and that not a half of the 389 people then in the camp would emerge out of Africa. They were now brimful of life and vitality--their rifles were perfect, their accoutrements were new, and each possessed 10 rounds of cartridges. With a little care for their own selves and a small portion of prudence, there was no reason why they should not nearly all emerge safe and sound, but they were so crude, stolid, unreasoning, that orders and instructions were unheeded, except when under actual supervision, and, to supervise them effectually, I should require 100 English officers of similar intelligence and devotion to the four then with me. In the meantime they will lose their lives for trifles which a little sense would avoid, and until some frightful calamity overtakes them I shall never be able thoroughly to impress on their minds that to lose life foolishly is a crime. A party of scouts were also sent ahead along the track to observe its general direction, and, about the same time that the foragers returned, the scouts returned, having captured six natives in the forest. They belonged to a tribe called the Babali, and were of a light chocolate in hue, and were found forming traps for game. As we endeavoured to draw from them some information respecting the country to which the track led, they said, "We have but one heart. Don't you have two," which meant, Do not speak so fairly to us if you mean any harm to us, and like all natives they asserted strongly that they did not eat human meat, but that the custom was practised by the Babanda, Babali, Babukwa tribes, occupying the bank of the Aruwimi above Yankondé. Soon after this interview with the natives, Dr. Parke, observing the bees which fluttered about, had mentioned to one of his brother officers that he did not think they stung at all, upon which at the same moment a vicious bee settling in his neck drove its sting into it to punish him for his scornful libel. He then came to me and reported the fact as a good joke, whereupon a second bee attacked and wounded him almost in the same spot, drawing from him an exclamation of pain. "By Jove! but they do sting awfully, though." "Just so," said I; "nothing like experience to stimulate reason." After distributing the manioc, with an injunction to boil the roots three times in different waters, we resumed the march at 1 P.M. and camped at 4 o'clock. The next day left the track and struck through the huge towering forest and jungly undergrowth by compass. My position in this column was the third from the leader, so that I could direct the course. In order to keep a steady movement, even if slow, I had to instruct the cutters that each man as he walked should choose an obstructing lliané, or obtrusive branch of bush, and give one sharp cut and pass on--the two head men were confining themselves to an effective and broad "blaze" on the trees, every ten yards or so, for the benefit of the column, and, as the rear party would not follow us for perhaps two months, we were very particular that these "blazes" should be quite a hand's-breadth peel of bark. Naturally penetrating a trackless wild for the first time the march was at a funereal pace, in some places at the rate of 400 yards an hour, in other more open portions, that is of less undergrowth, we could travel at the rate of half, three-quarters, and even a mile per hour--so that from 6.30 A.M. to 11 A.M. when we halted for lunch and rest, and from 12.30 P.M., to 3 o'clock or 4 P.M. in from six to seven hours per day, we could make a march of about five miles. On the usual African track seen in other regions we could have gone from fourteen to eighteen miles during the same time. Therefore our object was to keep by settlements, not only to be assured of food, but in the hope of utilizing the native roads. We shall see later how we fared. At 4 P.M. of this day we were still on the march, having passed through a wilderness of creeks, mud, thick scum-faced quagmires green with duckweed into which we sank knee-deep, and the stench exhaled from the fetid slough was most sickening. We had just emerged out of this baneful stretch of marshy ground, intersected by lazy creeks and shallow long stream-shaped pools, when the forest became suddenly darkened, so dark that I could scarcely read the compass, and a distant murmur increasing into loud soughing and wrestling and tossing of branches and groaning of mighty trees warned us of the approach of a tempest. As the ground round about was most uninviting, we had to press on through the increasing gloom, and then, as the rain began to drip, we commenced to form camp. The tents were hastily pitched over the short scrubby bush, while bill-hooks crashed and axes rang, clearing a space for the camp. The rain was cold and heavily dripped, and every drop, large as a dollar on their cotton clothes, sent a shiver through the men. The thunder roared above, the lightning flashed a vivid light of fire through the darkness, and still the weary hungry caravan filed in until 9 o'clock. The rain was so heavy that fires could not be lit, and until three in the morning we sat huddled and crouching amid the cold, damp, and reeking exhalations and minute spray. Then bonfires were kindled, and around these scores of flaming pyramids the people sat, to be warmed into hilarious animation, to roast the bitter manioc, and to still the gnawing pain of their stomachs. On the 4th we struck N. by E., and in an hour heard natives singing in concert afar off. We sent scouts ahead to ascertain what it meant. We presently heard firing which seemed to approach nearer. We mustered the men in the nearest company, stacked goods and deployed them as skirmishers. Then messengers came and reported that the scouts had struck the river, and, as they were looking upon it, a canoe advanced into view with its crew standing with drawn bows and fixed arrows, which were flown at them at once, and compelled the scouts to fire. We then resumed the march, and at 8 A.M. we were on the river again, in time to see a line of native canoes disappearing round a bend on the opposite bank, and one canoe abandoned tied to the bank with a goat. Observing that the river was calm and free from rapids, and desirous of saving the people from as much labour as circumstances would offer, the steel boat sections were brought up to the bank, and Mr. Jephson, whose company had special charge of the _Advance_, commenced to fit the sections together. In an hour the forty-four burdens, which the vessel formed, had been attached together and fitted to their respective places and launched. As the boat weighed forty-four loads and had a capacity of fifty loads, and at least ten sick, we could then release ninety-eight people from the fatigue of bearing loads and carrying Lieutenant Stairs, who was still very ill. Mr. Jephson and crew were despatched across river and the goat secured. As the _Advance_ was in the river, it was necessary for the column to cling to the bank, not only for the protection of the boat, but to be able to utilize the stream for lessening labour. Want of regular food, lack of variety, and its poor nutritive qualities, coupled with the urgency which drove us on, requiring long marches and their resulting fatigue, would soon diminish the strength of the stoutest. A due regard for the people therefore must be shown, and every means available for their assistance must be employed. Therefore, the boat keeping pace with the column, we travelled up-stream until 3 P.M. and camped. On the 5th the boat and column moved up, as on the day previous, and made six-and-half miles. The river continued to be from 500 to 800 yards wide. The bank was a trifle more open than in the interior, though frequently it was impossible to move before an impenetrable mass of jungle had been tunnelled to allow our passage under the vault of close network of branch and climber, cane, and reed above. At 2.30 we reached the village of Bukanda. We had come across no track, but had simply burst out of the bush and a somewhat young forest with a clearing. In the middle of the clearing by the river side was the village. This fact made me think, and it suggested that if tracks were not discoverable by land, and as the people were not known to possess the power of aerial locomotion, that communication was maintained by water. [Illustration: IN THE NIGHT AND RAIN IN THE FOREST.] We had reason to rejoice at the discovery of a village, for since the 2nd the caravan subsisted on such tubers of manioc as each man took with him on that date. Had another day passed without meeting with a clearing we should have suffered from hunger. It was evening before the boat appeared, the passage of rapids and an adventure with a flotilla of eleven canoes had detained her. The canoes had been abandoned in consequence, and the commander of the boat had secured them to an island. One was reported to be a capacious hollow log, capable of carrying nearly as much as the boat. Since the river was the highway of the natives, we should be wise to employ the stream, by which we should save our men, and carry our sick as well as a reserve of food. For we had been narrowly brought to the verge of want on the last day, and we were utter strangers in a strange land, groping our way through darkness. The boat was sent back with an extra crew to secure the canoe and paddle her up to our camp. Of course Bukanda had been abandoned long before we reached it--the village of cone huts was at our disposal--the field of manioc also. This custom also was unlike anything I had seen in Africa before. Previously the natives may have retired with their women, but the males had remained with spear and target, representing ownership. Here the very fowls had taken to flight. It was clearly a region unsuitable for the study of ethnology. At noon of the 6th we defiled out of Bukanda refurnished with provisions, and two hours later were in camp in uninhabited space. We had devoted the morning to cleaning and repairing rifles--many of whose springs were broken. Some facts had already impressed themselves upon us. We observed that the mornings were muggy and misty--that we were chilly and inclined to be cheerless in consequence; that it required some moral courage to leave camp to brave the cold, damp, and fogginess without, to brave the mud and slush, to ford creeks up to the waist in water; that the feelings were terribly depressed in the dismal twilight from the want of brightness and sunshine warmth; and the depression caused by the sombre clouds and dull grey river which reflected the drear daylight. The actual temperature on these cold mornings was but seventy to seventy-two degrees--had we judged of it by our cheerlessness it might have been twenty degrees less. The refuse heaps of the little villages were large and piled on the edge of the bank. They were a compost of filth, sweepings of streets and huts, peelings of manioc, and often of plantains with a high heap of oyster-shells. Had I not much else to write about, an interesting chapter on these composts, and the morals, manners, and usages of the aborigines might be written. Just as Owen could prefigure an extinct mammoth of the dead ages from the view of a few bones, the history of a tribe could be developed by me out of these refuse heaps. Revelling in these fetid exhalations were representatives of many insect tribes. Columns of ants wound in and out with more exact formation than aborigines could compose themselves, flies buzz in myriads over the heaps, with the murmur of enjoyment, butterflies which would have delighted Jameson's soul swarmed exulting in their gorgeous colours, and a perfect cloud of moths hovered above all. The villages of the Bakuti were reached on the 7th, after seven hours' slow marching and incessant cutting. I occupied a seat in the boat on this day and observed that the banks were from six to ten feet above the river on either side, that there were numerous traces of former occupation easily detected despite the luxuriance of the young forest that had grown up and usurped the space once occupied by villages and fields; that either wars or epidemics had disturbed the inhabitants twenty years ago, and that as yet only one crocodile had been seen on the Aruwimi, and only one hippo, which I took to be a sure sign that there was not much pasture in this region. As the rowers urged the boat gently up the stream, and I heard the bill-hooks and axes carving away through bush and brake tangle and forest without which scarcely a yard of progress could be made, I regretted more than ever that I had not insisted on being allowed to carry out my own plan of having fifteen whale-boats. What toil would have been saved, and what anxiety would have been spared me. On the 9th we gained, after another seven hours' toiling and marching, the villages of the Bakoka. Already the people began to look jaded and seedy. Skewers had penetrated the feet of several, ulcers began to attract notice by their growing virulence, many people complained of curious affections in the limbs. Stairs was slowly recovering. We had passed so many abandoned clearings that our expedition might have been supported for weeks by the manioc which no owner claimed. It was very clear that internecine strife had caused the migrations of the tribes. The Bakoka villages were all stockaded, and the entrance gates were extremely low. The next day we passed by four villages all closely stockaded, and on the 10th came to the rapids of Gwengweré. Here there were seven large villages bordering the rapids and extending from below to above the broken water. All the population had fled probably to the opposite main, or to the islands in mid-river, and every portable article was carried away except the usual wreckage of coarse pottery, stools, and benches, and back rests. The stockades were in good order and villages intact. In one large village there were 210 conical huts, and two square sheds used for public assemblies and smithies. This occupied a commanding bluff sixty feet above the river, and a splendid view of a dark grey silver stream, flanked by dense and lofty walls of thickest greenest vegetation, was obtained. Lieutenant Stairs was fast recovering from his long attack of bilious fever; my other companions enjoyed the best of health, though our diet consisted of vegetables, leaves of the manioc and herbs bruised and made into patties. But on this day we had a dish of weaver-birds furnished by the Doctor, who with his shot-gun bagged a few of the thousands which had made their nests on the village trees. On the 11th we marched about a mile to give the canoemen a chance to pole their vessels through the rapids and the column a rest. The day following marched six geographical miles, the river turning easterly, which was our course. Several small rapids were passed without accident. As we were disappearing from view of Gwengweré, the population was seen scurrying from the right bank and islands back to their homes, which they had temporarily vacated for our convenience. It seemed to me to be an excellent arrangement. It saved trouble of speech, exerted possibly in useless efforts for peace and tedious chaffer. They had only one night's inconvenience, and were there many caravans advancing as peaceably as we were, natural curiosity would in time induce them to come forward to be acquainted with the strangers. Our people found abundant to eat in the fields, and around the villages. The area devoted to cultivation was extensive: plantains flourished around the stockades; herbs for potage were found in little plots close to the villages; also sufficient tobacco for smoking, and pumpkins for dessert, and a little Indian corn; but, alas, we all suffered from want of meat. There were few aquatic birds to be seen. There were some few specimens of divers, fish eagles, and kingfishers. Somewhere, at a distance, a pair of ibis screamed; flocks of parrots whistled and jabbered in vain struggles to rob the solitude of the vast trackless forest of its oppressive silence; whip-poor-wills, and sunbirds, and weavers aided them with their varied strains; but insects, and flies, and moths were innumerable. On the 12th we moved up as usual, starting at 6.30 A.M., the caravan preceding the boat and its consorts. Though proceeding only at the rate of a mile and a half per hour, we soon overhauled the struggling caravan, and passed the foremost of the pioneers. At 10 A.M. we met a native boy, called Bakula, of about fifteen years, floating down river on a piece of a canoe. He sprung aboard our boat with alacrity, and used his paddle properly. An hour later we rounded the lowest point of a lengthy curve, bristling with numerous large villages. The boy volunteer who had dropped to our aid from the unknown, called the lower village Bandangi, the next Ndumba, and the long row of villages above, the houses of the Banalya tribe. But all were deserted. We halted at Bandangi for lunch, and at 2 P.M. resumed our journey. An hour's pull brought us to the upper village, where we camped. Our river party on this day numbered forty men; but, as we landed, we were lost in the large and silent village. I had counted thirteen villages--one of these numbered 180 huts. Assuming that in this curve there were 1300 huts, and allowing only four persons to each hut, we have a population of 5200. At 5.30 appeared the advance guard of the column, and presently a furious tempest visited us, with such violent accompaniments of thunder and lightning as might have been expected to be necessary to clear the atmosphere charged with the collected vapours of this humid region--through which the sun appeared daily as through a thick veil. Therefore the explosive force of the electric fluid was terrific. All about us, and at all points, it lightened and shattered with deafening explosions, and blinding forks of flame the thick, sluggish, vaporous clouds. Nothing less than excessive energy of concentrated electricity could have cleared the heavy atmosphere, and allowed the inhabitants of the land to see the colour of the sky, and to feel the cheering influence of the sun. For four hours we had to endure the dreadful bursts; while a steady stream of rain relieved the surcharged masses that had hung incumbent above us for days. While the river party and advance guard were housed in the upper village, the rear guard and No. 4 Company occupied Bandangi, at the town end of the _crescent_, and we heard them shooting minute guns to warn us of their presence; while we vainly, for economical reasons, replied with the tooting of long ivory horns. Such a large population naturally owned exclusive fields of manioc, plantations of bananas, and plantains, sugar-cane, gardens of herbs, and Indian corn, and as the heavy rain had saturated the ground, a halt was ordered. By nine o'clock the rear guard was known to have arrived by Nelson's voice crying out for "chop and coffee"--our chop consisted of cassava cakes, a plantain or so roasted, and a mess of garden greens, with tea or coffee. Flesh of goat or fowl was simply unprocurable. Neither bird nor beast of any kind was to be obtained. Hitherto only two crocodiles and but one hippo had been discovered, but no elephant, buffalo, or antelope or wild hog, though tracks were numerous. How could it be otherwise with the pioneers' shouts, cries, noise of cutting and crushing, and pounding of trees, the murmur of a large caravan? With the continuous gossip, storytelling, wrangling, laughing or wailing that were maintained during the march, it was simply impossible. Progress through the undergrowth was denied without a heavy knife, machette, or bill-hook to sever entangling creepers and while an animal may have been only a few feet off on the other side of a bush, vain was the attempt to obtain view of it through impervious masses of vegetation. In our boat I employed the halt for examining the islands near Bandangi. We discovered lengthy heaps of oyster-shells on one island, one of which was sixty feet long, ten feet wide, and four feet high; we can imagine the feasts of the bivalves that the aborigines enjoyed during their picnics, and the length of time that had elapsed since the first bivalve had been eaten. On my return I noticed through a bank-slip in the centre of the curve a stratum of oyster-shell buried three feet under alluvium. Our native boy Bakula, informed us that inland north lived the Baburu, who were very different from the river tribes, that up river, a month's journey, would be found dwarfs about two feet high, with long beards; that he had once journeyed as far as Panga where the river tumbled from a height as high as the tallest tree, that the Aruwimi was now called Lui by the people of the left bank, but that to the Baburu on the right bank it was known as the Luhali. Bakula was an exceptionally crafty lad, a pure cannibal, to whom a mess of human meat would have been delectable. He was a perfect mimic, and had by native cunning protected himself by conforming readily to what he divined would be pleasing to the strangers by whom he was surrounded. Had all the native tribes adopted this boy's policy our passage through these novel lands would have been as pleasant as could be desired. I have no doubt that they possessed all the arts of craft which we admired in Bakula, they had simply not the courage to do what an accident had enabled him to carry out. From Chief Bambi's town of the Banalya we moved to Bungangeta villages by river and land on the 15th. It was a stern and sombre morning, gloomy with lowering and heavy clouds. It struck me on this dull dreary morning, while regarding the silent flowing waters of the dark river and the long unbroken forest frontage, that nature in this region seems to be waiting the long expected trumpet-call of civilization--that appointed time when she shall awake to her duties, as in other portions of the earth. I compared this waiting attitude to the stillness preceding the dawn, before the insect and animal life is astir to fret the air with its murmur, before the day has awakened the million minute passions of the wilds; at that hour when even Time seems to be drowsy and nodding, our inmost thoughts appear to be loud, and the heart throbs to be clamorous. But when the young day peeps forth white and gray in the East the eyelids of the world lift up. There is a movement and a hum of invisible life, and all the earth seems wakened from its brooding. But withal, the forest world remains restful, and Nature bides her day, and the river shows no life; unlike Rip Van Winkle, Nature, despite her immeasurably long ages of sleep, indicates no agedness, so old, incredibly old, she is still a virgin locked in innocent repose. What expansive wastes of rich productive land lie in this region unheeded by man! Populous though the river banks are, they are but slightly disturbed by labour--a trifling grubbing of parts of the foreshore, a limited acreage for manioc, within a crater-like area in the bosom of the dark woods, and a narrow line of small cotes, wherein the savages huddle within their narrow circumference. One of my amusements in the boat was to sketch the unknown course of the river--for as the aborigines disappeared like rats into their holes on one's approach I could gain no information respecting it. How far was it permissible for me to deviate from my course? By the river I could assist the ailing and relieve the strong. The goods could be transported and the feeble conveyed. Reserves of manioc and plantain could also be carried. But would a somewhat long curve, winding as high as some forty or fifty geographical miles north of our course, be compensated by these advantages of relief of the porters, and the abundance of provisions that are assuredly found on the banks? When I noted the number of the sick, and saw the jaded condition of the people, I felt that if the river ascended as far as 2° N., it was infinitely preferable to plunging into the centre of the forest. The temperature of the air during the clouded morning was 75°, surface of the river 77°. What a relief it was to breathe the air of the river after a night spent in inhaling the close impure air in the forest by night! On the 16th we possessed one boat and five canoes, carrying seventy-four men and 120 loads, so that with the weight of the boat sections, half of our men were relieved of loads, and carried nothing every alternative day. We passed by the mouth of a considerable affluent from the south-east, and camped a mile above it. The temperature rose to 94° in the afternoon, and as a consequence rain fell in torrents, preceded by the usual thunder roars and lightning flashes. Until 1 P.M. of the 17th the rain fell unceasingly. It would have been interesting to have ascertained the number of inches that fell during these nineteen hours' rain-pour. Few of the people enjoyed any rest; there was a general wringing of blankets and clothes after it ceased, but it was some hours before they recovered their usual animation. The aborigines must have been also depressed, owing to our vicinity, though if they had known what wealth we possessed, they might have freely parted with their goats and fowls for our wares. The column camped at 3 P.M. opposite the settlement of Lower Mariri. Besides their immense wooden drums, which sounded the alarm to a ten-mile distance, the natives vociferated with unusual powers of lung, so that their cries could be heard a mile off. The absence of all other noises lends peculiar power to their voices. The Somalis, who are such excellent and efficient servants in lands like the Masai, or dry regions like the Soudan, are perfectly useless in humid regions. Five of them declined to stay at Yambuya, and insisted on accompanying me. Since we had taken to the river I had employed them as boatmen, or rather did employ them when they were able to handle a paddle or a pole, but their physical powers soon collapsed, and they became mere passengers. On shore, without having undergone any exertion, they were so prostrated after a two hours' river voyage, that they were unable to rig shelter against rain and damp, and as they were thievish the Zanzibaris refused to permit them to approach their huts. The result was that we had the trouble each day to see that a share of food even was doled out to them, as they would have voluntarily starved rather than cut down the plantains above their heads. From opposite Lower Mariri we journeyed to a spot ten miles below the Upper Mariri on the 18th. The canoes had only occupied 4 h. 15 m., but the land column did not appear at all. On the 19th I employed the boat and canoe crews to cut a road to above a section of the rapids of Upper Mariri. This was accomplished in 2-1/2 hours. We returned to camp in 45 minutes. Our pace going up was similar to that of the caravan, consequently an ordinary day's travel through the forest would be six miles. On returning to camp formed the column, and marched it to the end of our paths; the boat and canoes were punted up the rapids without accident, and in the afternoon the people foraged for food at a village a mile and a half above camp with happy results. On the 20th the advance column marched up and occupied the village. About two hours after arrival some of the natives of Mariri came in a canoe and hailed us. We replied through Bakula, the native boy, and in a short time were able to purchase a couple of fowls, and during the afternoon were able to purchase three more. This was the first barter we had been able to effect on the Aruwimi. Mariri is a large settlement abounding in plantains, while at our village there were none. Two men, Charlie No. 1 and Musa bin Juma disappeared on this day. Within twenty-three days we had not lost a man. No casualty had as yet happened, and good fortune, which had hitherto clung to us, from this date began to desert us. We were under the impression that those men had been captured by natives, and their heedless conduct was the text of a sermon preached to the men next morning when they were mustered for the march. It was not until thirteen months later that we knew that they had deserted, that they had succeeded in reaching Yambuya, and had invented the most marvellous tales of wars and disasters, which, when repeated by the officers at Yambuya in their letter to the Committee, created so much anxiety. Had I believed it had been possible that two messengers could have performed that march, we certainly had availed ourselves of the fact to have communicated authentic news and chart of the route to Major Barttelot, who in another month would be leaving his camp as we believed. From the village opposite Upper Mariri we proceeded to S. Mupé, a large settlement consisting of several villages, embowered in plantations. The chiefs of Mupé are Mbadu, Alimba, and Mangrudi. On the 22nd Surgeon Parke was the officer of the day, and was unfortunate enough to miss the river, and strike through the forest in a wrong direction. He finally struck a track on which the scouts found a woman and a large-eyed, brown-coloured child. The woman showed the route to the river, and was afterwards released. Through her influence the natives of N. Mupé on the right bank were induced to trade with us, by which we were enabled to procure a dozen fowls and two eggs. The bed of the river in this locality is an undisturbed rock of fine-grained and hard, brick-coloured sandstone. This is the reason that the little rapids, though frequent enough, present but little obstacles to navigation. The banks at several places rose to about forty feet above the river, and the rock is seen in horizontal strata in bluffy form, in many instances like crumbling ruins of cut stone. The sign of peace with these riverine natives appears to be the pouring of water on their heads with their hands. As new-comers approached our camp they cried out, "We suffer from famine, we have no food, but up river you will find plenty, Oh, 'monomopote'! (son of the sea)." "But we suffer from want of food, and have not the strength to proceed unless you give us some," we replied. Whereupon they threw us fat ears of Indian corn, plantains, and sugar-cane. This was preliminary to a trade, in doing which these apparently unsophisticated natives were as sharp and as exorbitant as any of the Wyyanzi on the Congo. The natives of Mupé are called Babé. Trifles, such as empty sardine boxes, jam and milk cans, and cartridge cases, were easily barterable for sugar-cane, Indian corn, and tobacco. A cotton handkerchief would buy a fowl, goats were brought to our view, but not parted with. They are said to be the monopoly of chiefs. The natives showed no fixed desire for any speciality but cloth--gaudy red handkerchiefs. We saw some cowries among them, and in the bottom of a canoe we found a piece of an infantry officer's sword nine inches long. We should have been delighted to have heard the history of that sword, and the list of its owners since it left Birmingham. But we could not maintain any lengthy conversation with them, our ignorance of the language, and their excitability prevented us from doing more than observing and interchanging words relating to peace and food with them. We can accept the bit of sword blade as evidence that their neighbours in the interior have had some contact with the Soudanese. Neither in manners, customs or dress was there any very great difference between these natives and those belonging to the upper parts of the Upper Congo. Their head-dresses were of basket work decorated with red parrot feathers, monkey skin caps of grey or dark fur, with the tails drooping behind. The neck, arm and ankle ornaments were of polished iron, rarely of copper, never of brass. [Illustration: HEAD-DRESS--CROWN OF BRISTLES.] [Illustration: PADDLE OF THE UPPER ARUWIMI OR ITURI.] They make beautiful paddles, finely carved like a long pointed leaf. "Senneneh" was the peaceful hail as in Manyuema, Uregga and Usongora, above Stanley Falls. The complexion of these natives is more ochreous than black. When a body of them is seen on the opposite bank, there is little difference of colour between their bodies and the reddish clayey soil of the landing-place. Much of this is due to the Camwood powder, and with this mixed with oil they perform their toilet. But protection from sunshine considerably contributes to this light colour. The native boy, Bakula, for instance, was deprived of this universal cosmetic made of Camwood, and he was much lighter than the average of our Zanzibaris. On the 24th, Mr. Jephson led the van of the column, and under his guidance we made the astonishing march of seven and a half geographical miles--the column having been compelled to wade through seventeen streams and creeks. During these days Jephson exhibited a marvellous vigour. He was in many things an exact duplicate of myself in my younger days, before years and hundreds of fevers had cooled my burning blood. He is exactly of my own height, build and weight and temperament. He is sanguine, confident, and loves hard work. He is simply indefatigable, and whether it is slushy mire or a muddy creek, in he enters, without hesitation, up to his knees, waist, neck or overhead it is all the same. A sybarite, dainty and fastidious in civilization, a traveller and labourer in Africa, he requires to be restrained and counselled for his own sake. Now these young men, Stairs, Nelson and Parke, are very much in the same way. Stairs is the military officer, alert, intelligent, who understands a hint, a curt intimation, grasps an idea firmly and realizes it to perfection. Nelson is a centurion as of old Roman times, he can execute because it is the will of his chief; he does not stay to ask the reason why; he only understands it to be a necessity, and his great vigour, strength, resolution, plain, good sense is at my disposal, to act, suffer or die; and Parke, noble, gentle soul, so tender and devoted, so patient, so sweet in mood and brave in temper, always enduring and effusing comfort as he moves through our atmosphere of suffering and pain. No four men ever entered Africa with such qualities as these. No leader ever had cause to bless his stars as I. On this day Jephson had two adventures. In his usual free, impulsive manner, and with swinging gait he was directing the pioneers--crushing through the jungle, indifferent to his costume, when he suddenly sank out of sight into an elephant pit! We might have imagined a playful and sportive young elephant crashing through the bushes, rending and tearing young saplings, and suddenly disappearing from the view of his more staid mamma. Jephson had intelligence, however, and aid was at hand, and he was pulled out none the worse. It was a mere amusing incident to be detailed in camp and to provoke a laugh. He rushed ahead of the pioneers to trace the course to be followed, and presently encountered a tall native, with a spear in his hand, face to face. Both were so astonished as to be paralysed, but Jephson's impulse was that of a Berseker. He flung himself, unarmed, upon the native, who, eluding his grasp, ran from him, as he would from a lion, headlong down a steep bank into a creek, Jephson following. But the clayey soil was damp and slippery, his foot slipped, and the gallant Captain of the _Advance_ measured his length face downwards with his feet up the slope, and such was his impetus that he slid down to the edge of the creek. When he recovered himself it was to behold the denizen of the woods, hurrying up the opposite bank and casting wild eyes at this sudden pale-faced apparition who had so disturbed him as he brooded over the prospect of finding game in his traps that day. Our camp on this day was a favourite haunt of elephants from time immemorial. It was near a point round which the river raced with strong swirling currents. A long view of a broad silent river is seen upward, and one of a river disparted by a series of islands below. On the 25th Captain Nelson led the column, Jephson was requested to assist me with the long narrow canoes laden with valuable goods, and to direct some of the unskilful "lubbers" who formed our crews. The boat led the way anchored above the dangerous and swirly point, and cast the manilla rope to the canoe crew, who, hauling by this cord drew the canoes to quiet water. Then rowing hard against the strong currents, at 11 A.M. we caught the head of the caravan gathered on the bank of a wide and dark sluggish creek, the Rendi, which lazily flowed out of dark depths of woods. By one o'clock the ferriage was completed, and the column resumed its march, while we, on the river, betook ourselves to further struggles with the dangerous waves and reefs of what is now called Wasp Rapids, from the following incident. These rapids extended for a stretch of two miles. Above them were the villages which became the scene of a tragic strife, as will be learned later in a subsequent chapter, and these settlements were the dear objects of our aims in order to obtain shelter and food. Our first efforts against the rapids were successful. The current was swift and dangerous, breaking out into great waves now and then. For the first half-hour we were successful. Then began a struggle, rowing on one side hard and the starboard side crew grasping at overhanging bushes, two men poling, two men on the decked bow, with boat-hooks outstretched with their fangs ready to snatch at saplings for firm hold. I steered. We advanced slowly but steadily, a narrow rushing branch between rocky islets, and the bank was before us which raced over a reef, showing itself in yard square dots of rock above the waves. We elected to ascend this as in view of a capsize there was less fear of drowning. With noble spirits braced for an exciting encounter, we entered it. Eager hands were held out to catch at the branches, but at the first clutch there issued at this critical moment an army of fierce spiteful wasps and settled on our faces, hands, and bodies, every vulnerable spot, and stung us with the venom of fiends. Maddened and infuriated by the burning stings, battling with this vicious enemy, beset by reefs, and rocks, and dangerous waves, and whirling vortexes, we tore on with tooth and nail, and in a few minutes were a hundred yards above the awful spot. Then, clinging to the trees, we halted to breathe and sympathise with each other, and exchange views and opinions on the various stings of insects, bees, hornets, and wasps. One asked my servant with a grim smile, "Did you say the other day that you believed there was much honey in these brown paper nests of the wasps? Well, what do you think of the honey now? don't you think it is rather a bitter sort?" This raised a general laugh. We recovered our good temper, and resumed our work, and in an hour reached the village which the land party had occupied. The canoes crews, who followed us, seeing the battle with the wasps, fled across river, and ascended by the right bank. But the Somalis and Soudanese, more trustful in Allah, bravely followed our track, and were dreadfully stung; still, they were consoled by being able to exult over the Zanzibaris, the leader of which was Uledi, of the "Dark Continent." [Illustration: WASPS' NESTS, ETC.] "Oh," I remarked to Uledi, "it is not a brave thing you have done this day--to fly away from wasps." "Oh, sir," he replied, "naked manhood is nowhere in such a scrape as that. Wasps are more dangerous than the most savage men." The native settlement on the left bank is called Bandeya; the one facing opposite consists of the villages of the Bwamburi. North of the Bwamburi, a day's march, begins the tribes of the Ababua and the Mabode, who have a different kind of architecture from the steeply conical huts prevailing among the riverine tribes. The Mabodé are said to possess square houses with gable roofs, the walls are neatly plastered, and along the fronts are clay verandahs. On the 26th we halted to rest and recuperate. Those of us who were attacked by the wasps suffered from a fever; the coxswain of the boat was in great distress. The following day the chief of the Bwamburi came over to pay us a visit, and brought us as a gift a month old chick, which was declined on the ground that we should feel we were robbing him were we to accept such a gift from a professedly poor man. His ornaments consisted of two small ivory tusks planed flat and polished, which hung suspended from a string made of grass encircling his neck. His head-dress was a long-haired monkey skin. We exchanged professions of amity and brotherhood, and commenced the march, and camped opposite Mukupi, a settlement possessing eight villages, on the 28th. Two sturdy prisoners imparted to us strange information of a large lake called "No-uma," as being situate somewhere in the neighbourhood of a place called Panga. It was said to be many days' journey in extent. In the centre was a large island, so infested with serpents that natives dreaded to go near it; that from it flowed the Nepoko into the Nowellé, the name now given to the Aruwimi. After several days' march we discovered that the lake story was a myth, and that the Nepoko did not flow from the left bank of the Aruwimi. Our camp on the 29th was opposite My-yui, a series of villages embowered amongst banana groves on the right bank. It was not long before we struck an acquaintance with this tribe. We quickly recognized a disposition on the part of the aborigines to be sociable. A good report of our doings had preceded us. Trade commenced very pleasantly. Our people had cowries, beads, and brass rods, besides strange trifles to exchange for food. When the land column arrived, prices advanced somewhat, owing to the greater demand. It was reported that there were no settlements between our camp opposite My-yui and Panga; that we should be nine days performing the journey through the forest. The next morning the bartering was resumed, because we wished to prepare provisions for several days; new ration currency had already been distributed to each man. But we were astonished to find that only three ears of Indian corn were given on this day for a brass rod twenty-eight inches in length, of the thickness of telegraph wire. At Bangala such a brass rod would have purchased five days' provisions per man in my days, and here was a settlement in the wilds where we could only obtain three ears of corn! For one fowl brass rods were demanded. Cowries were not accepted; beads they declined. The men were ravenously hungry; there were nine days' wilderness ahead. Wasp rapids was the nearest place below. We expostulated, but they were firm. The men then began to sell their cartridge-pouches for two plantains each. They were detected selling their ammunition at the rate of one cartridge for an ear of corn; a tin canteen purchased two. Bill-hooks and axes went next, and ruin stared in the face. The natives were driven away; one of Mugwye's (the chiefs) principal slaves was lifted out of his canoe by a gigantic Zanzibari, and word was sent to the natives that if there were no fair sales of food made as on the first day, that the prisoner would be taken away, and that we should cross over and help ourselves. Having waited all the afternoon for the reappearance of food, we embarked at dawn on the 31st with two full companies, entered My-yui, and despatched the foragers. By 3 P.M. there was food enough in the camp for ten days. In the afternoon of the 1st of August, the advance column was encamped opposite Mambanga. The river party met with an accident. Careless Soudanese were capsized, and one of the Zanzibari steersmen disobeying orders shoved his canoe under the branchy trees which spread out from the bank to the distance of fifty feet; and by the swift current was driven against a submerged branch, and capsized, causing a loss of valuable property--some of them being fine beads, worth four shillings a necklace. Six rifles were also lost. The first death in the advance column occurred on the 2nd August, the 36th day of departure from Yambuya, which was a most extraordinary immunity considering the hardship and privations to which we were all subjected. Could we have discovered a settlement of bananas on the other bank, we should certainly have halted to recuperate for many days. A halt at this period of four or five days at a thriving settlement, would have been of vast benefit to all of us, but such a settlement had not been found, and it was necessary for us to march and press on until we could discover one. We traversed a large village that had been abandoned for probably six months before we reached, and as it was the hour of camping, we prepared to make ourselves comfortable for the evening. But as the tents were being pitched, my attention was called to the cries made by excited groups, and hastening to the scene, heard that there was a dead body almost covered with mildew in a hut. Presently the discovery of another was announced and then another. This sufficed to cause us to hastily pack up again and depart from the dead men's village, lest we might contract the strange disease that had caused the abandonment of the village. One of our poor donkeys, unable to find fitting sustenance in the region of trees and jungle, lay down and died. Another appeared weak and pining for grass, which the endless forest did not produce. Opposite our camp on this day was the mouth of the Ngula River, an affluent on the north side. Within the river it appeared to be of a width of fifty yards. On the 3rd two hills became visible, one bearing E.S.E., the other S.E. by E. 1/2 E., as we moved up the river. We camped at the point of a curve in the centre of which were two islands. Paying a visit to one of them we found two goats, at which we were so rejoiced, that long before evening one was slaughtered for the officers, and another to make broth for the sick. A flock of a hundred would have saved many a life that was rapidly fading away. [Illustration: FORT ISLAND, NEAR PANGA FALLS.] The next day we arrived at Panga or the Nepanga Falls, about which we had heard so much from Bakula, the native boy. The falls are fully thirty feet high, though at first view they appear to be double that height, by the great slope visible above the actual fall. They extend over a mile in length from the foot of the falls, to above the portage. They are the first serious obstacles to navigation we had encountered. They descend by four separate branches, the largest of which is 200 yards wide. They run by islets of gneissic rock, and afford cover to the natives of Panga, who when undisturbed, live upon a large island called Nepanga, one mile long and 300 yards wide, situated 600 yards below the Falls. This island contains three villages, numbering some 250 huts of the conical type. There are several settlements inland on both banks. The staple food consists of plantains, though there are also fields of manioc. [Illustration: PANGA FALLS.] An unfortunate Zanzibari, as though he had vowed to himself to contribute largely to our ruin, capsized his canoe as he approached Nepanga, by which we lost two boxes of Maxim ammunition, five boxes of cowries, three of white beads, one of fancy beads, one box fine copper wire, cartridge pouches and seven rifles. All things are savage in this region. No sooner had a solitary hippo sighted us than he gave chase, and nearly caught us. He was punished severely, and probably received his death wound. The fowls of Nepanga declined to be caught on the island of Nepanga, but evaded the foragers by flight into the jungle; the goats were restless, and combative, and very wild. Altogether we captured twelve, which gave us some hopes of being able to save some of our sick people. A few fish were obtained in the weirs and basket-nets. The results of 3 days' foraging on islands, right and left banks were 250 lbs. of Indian corn, 18 goats, and as many fowls, besides a few branches of plantains, among 383 people. A number of villages and settlements were searched, but the natives do not appear to possess a sufficiency of food. They were said to be at war with a tribe called the Engweddé, and instead of cultivating live on banana stalks, mushrooms, roots, herbs, fish, and snails and caterpillars, varying this extraordinary diet by feeding on slain humanity. In such a region there were no inducements to stay, and we accordingly commenced the business of portage. Stairs' Company was detailed for clearing the canoe track, and to strew it with branches place athwart the road. No. 3 and 4 Companies hauled the canoes, and No. 1 Company carried the whale-boat bodily overland to the sound of wild music and song, and by the end of the 6th, after a busy day, we were encamped above the great Falls of Panga. CHAPTER VIII. FROM PANGA FALLS TO UGARROWWA'S. Another accident at the Rapids--The village of Utiri--Avisibba settlement--Inquiry into a murder case at Avisibba--Surprised by the natives--Lieutenant Stairs wounded--We hunt up the enemy--The poisoned arrows--Indifference of the Zanzibaris--Jephson's caravan missing--Our wounded--Perpetual rain--Deaths of Khalfan, Saadi, and others--Arrival of caravan--The Mabengu Rapids--Mustering the people--The Nepoko river--Remarks by Binza--Our food supply--Reckless use of ammunition--Half-way to the Albert Lake--We fall in with some of Ugarrowwa's men--Absconders--We camp at Hippo Broads and Avakubi Rapids--The destroyed settlement of Navabi--Elephants at Memberri--More desertions--The Arab leader, Ugarrowwa--He gives us information--Visit to the Arab settlement--First specimen of the tribe of dwarfs--Arrangements with Ugarrowwa. In full view of this last camp there was an island in mid-river distant about two miles, that resembled a water battery, and a village lying low, apparently level with the face of the river. On exploring it on the 7th--by no means an easy task, so strong was the current sweeping down the smooth dangerous slope of river towards Panga--it appeared to have been originally a flat rocky mass of rock a few inches above high river, with inequalities on its surface which had been filled in with earth carried from the left bank. It measured 200 feet in length by about ninety feet in width, to which a piscatorial section of a tribe had retreated and built 60 cone huts, and boarded it round about with planks cut out of a light wood out of the forest and wrecked canoes. At this period the river was but six inches below the lowest surface of the island. Another serious accident occurred on this day during the journey from above Panga Falls to Nejambi Rapids. A witless, unthinking canoe coxswain took his canoe among the branches in broken water, got entangled, and capsized. Nine out of eleven rifles were recovered; two cases of gunpowder were lost. The Zanzibaris were so heedless and lubberly among rapids that I felt myself growing rapidly aged with intense anxiety while observing them. How headstrong human nature is prone to be, I had ample proofs daily. My losses, troubles, and anxieties rose solely from the reckless indifference to instructions manifested by my followers. On land they wandered into the forest, and simply disappeared, or were stabbed or pierced with arrows. So far we had lost eight men and seventeen rifles. [Illustration: VIEW OF UTIRI VILLAGE.] On the 8th the caravan had hauled the canoes past Nejambi Rapids, and was camped a few miles below Utiri. The next day we reached the villages, where we found the architecture had changed. The houses were now all gable-roofed and low, and each one surrounded by strong, tall, split log palisades, six feet long, nine inches by four inches wide and thick, of the rubiacæ wood. Constructed in two lines, a street about twenty feet ran between them. As I observed them I was impressed with the fact that they were extremely defensible even against rifles. A dozen resolute men in each court of one of these villages armed with poisoned arrows might have caused considerable loss and annoyance to an enemy. On the 10th we halted, and foragers were despatched in three different directions with poor results, only two days' rations being procurable. One man, named Khalfan, had been wounded in the wind-pipe by a wooden arrow. The manner he received the wound indicates the perfect indifference with which they receive instructions. While Khalfan examined the plantains above, a native stood not twenty feet away and shot him in the throat with a poisoned arrow. The arrow wound was a mere needle-point puncture, and Dr. Parke attended to him with care, but it had a fatal consequence a few days later. The 11th was consumed by the river party in struggling against a wild stretch, five miles long, of rapids, caused by numerous reefs and rocky islets, while the land column wound along the river bank on a passable track which led them to Engweddé, where we rejoined them on the 12th. Our day's rate having been broken by the rapids, foragers were again despatched to collect food, and succeeded in procuring three days' rations of plantains. On the 13th we marched to Avisibba, or Aveysheba, a settlement of five large villages, two of which were situate on the upper side of Ruku Creek. The river column was the first to occupy the villages above the Ruku. A fine open street ran between two rows of low huts, each hut surrounded by its tall palisades. There was a promising abundance in the plantain groves about. The untouched forest beyond looked tall, thick, and old. From the mouth of the creek to the extremity of the villages there was a hundred yards' thickness of primeval forest, through which a native path ran. Between the village and the Aruwimi was a belt of timber fifty yards wide. While the ferriage was progressing across the creek, the boat-crew was searching eagerly and carefully among the scores of courts for hidden savages, and with rifles projecting before them were burrowing into the plantain groves, and outside the villages. [Illustration: LEAF-BLADED PADDLE OF AVISIBBA.] When the column was across I had a murder case to inquire into. For on the 12th, at Engweddé, one of our Zanzibaris had been killed with a rifle bullet outside of camp, and it was supposed that some vengeful ruffian in the column had shot him. Meantime, I had suggested to two head men to take forty scouts and re-cross the creek, to explore if there were any opportunities for foraging on the next day to the south-west of the creek. My little court had just sat down for the inquiry, and a witness was relating his evidence, when the rifles were heard firing with unusual energy. Lieutenant Stairs mustered some fifty men, and proceeded on the double-quick to the river. Under the impression that ninety breech-loaders were quite sufficient we resumed the investigation, but as volley after volley rang out, with continued cracking of scouts' rifles, the Doctor, Nelson, and myself hastened to the scene with a few more men. The first person I saw was Lieutenant Stairs, with his shirt torn open, and blood streaming from an arrow-wound in the left breast, about the region of the heart, and I heard a pattering on the leaves around me, and caught a glimpse of arrows flying past. After consigning our poor friend to Parke's care I sought for information. There were numbers of men crouching about, and firing in the most senseless fashion at some suspicious bushes across the creek. There were certainly obstinate savages hidden behind them, but I failed to get a glimpse of one. The creek I soon found lay between us. I was told that as the boat was crossing the creek a body of natives had suddenly issued on the other side and shot their arrows into them; that surprised by the discharge they had crouched in the bottom of the boat to escape the arrows, and had paddled the boat back to the landing-place with their hands. They had then picked up their rifles and blazed away at them. Simultaneously Lieutenant Stairs had rushed in among them and fired at the enemy, who were of a bolder kind than any they had yet met. In a short time he had received an arrow in the breast, which he had torn off while retreating, and five other men had been punctured. Almost as soon as I had finished receiving these particulars, I saw for the first time a dark shadow creep along the ground between two bushes, and fired into the centre of it, and a curiously weird wail responded to it. Two minutes later the arrows had ceased their patter among the leaves. Having posted a strong guard of the best shots along the bank to observe any movement on the opposite bank of the creek, the rest of the people were withdrawn. In the evening some scouts that had searched in the woods inland returned with a flock of seven goats. They had discovered the crossing-place, and had suddenly opened fire on a small column going either to the assistance of the enemy or coming from their direction. [Illustration: THE FIGHT WITH THE AVISIBBA CANNIBALS.] On the 14th, at dawn, pushed over the creek two companies to hunt up the enemy that had done us such damage; a company was also sent, under Captain Nelson, to the forest inland. In a few minutes we heard a volley, and a second, and then incessant rifle fire, showing that the enemy were of a resolute character. There were some crack shots in No. 1 Company, but it was scarcely possible to do much damage in a thick bush against a crafty enemy, who knew that they possessed most dangerous weapons, and who were ignorant of the deadly force of the pellets that searched the bushes. About 300 rounds had been fired, and silence followed. Four only of these had been fatal, and our party received four wounds from arrows smeared over freshly with a copal-coloured substance. One dead body was brought to me for examination. [Illustration: A HEAD-DRESS OF AVISIBBA WARRIORS.] The head had a crop of long hair banded by a kind of coronet of iron; the neck had a string of iron drops, with a few monkey teeth among them. The teeth were filed into points. The distinguishing mark of the body appears to form double rows of tiny cicatrices across the chest and abdomen. The body was uncircumcised. Another dead body brought to the landing-place had a necklace of human teeth, and a coronet of shining plated iron, and the forehead and several wristlets of the same metal, polished; on the left arm was the thick pad of silk cotton covered with goat skin, to protect the arm from the bow string. After the natives had been chased away on all sides from the vicinity, the people commenced to forage, and succeeded in bringing to Avisibba during the day sufficient plantains to give eighty per man--four days' rations. Lieutenant Stairs' wound was one-fifth of an inch in diameter, an inch and a quarter below the heart, and the pointed head of the arrow had penetrated an inch and a half deep. The other men were wounded in the wrists, arms, and one in the fleshy part of the back. At this period we did not know what this strange copal-coloured substance was with which the points had been smeared, nor did we know what were its peculiar effects when dry or wet; all that the Doctor could do at this time was to inject water in the wounds and cleanse them. The "old hands" of the Zanzibaris affirmed it was poison extracted from the India rubber (Landolphia) by boiling; that the scum after sufficient boiling formed the poison. [Illustration: CORONETED AVISIBBA WARRIOR--HEAD-DRESS.] A native declared that it was made of a species of arum, which, after being bruised, was boiled; that the water was then poured out into another pot, and boiled again until it had left a strong solution, which was mixed with fat, and this was the substance on the arrows. The odour was acrid, with a suspicion of asafoetida. The men proved its deadly properties by remarking that elephants and all big game were killed by it. All these stories caused us to be very anxious, but our ignorance was excessive, I admit. We could only look on with wonder at the small punctures on the arms, and express our opinion that such small wounds could not be deadly, and hope, for the sake of our friend Stairs and our nine wounded men, that all this was mere exaggeration. The arrows were very slender, made of a dark wood, twenty-four inches long, points hardened by slow baking in the warm atmosphere above the hut fires; at the butt end was a slit, in which a leaf was introduced to guide the flight; the sharp points were as sharp as needles, and half an inch from the point began a curving line of notches for about two inches. The arrow heads were then placed in the prepared and viscid substance, with which they were smeared; large leaves were then rolled round a sheaf before they were placed in the quiver. Another substance was pitch black in colour, and appeared more like Stockholm tar when fresh, but had a very disagreeable smell. In a quiver there would be nearly a hundred arrows. When we observed the care taken of these arrows, rolled up in green leaves as they were, our anxiety for our people was not lessened. The bow is of stubborn hard brown wood, about three feet long; the string is a broad strip of rattan carefully polished. To experiment with their power I drove one of the wooden arrows, at six feet distance, through two sides of an empty biscuit tin. At 200 yards' distance was a tall tree. I drove an arrow, with full force, over the top of the highest branch and beyond the tree. It dawned on us all then that these wooden arrows were not the contemptible things we had imagined. At a short distance we judged, from what we saw, that the stiff spring of this little bow was sufficient to drive one of these slender arrows clean through a human body. At 120 paces I have been able to miss a bird within an inch with one of them. At noon on the 15th of August the land column filed out of the palisaded villages of Avisibba led by Mr. Jephson, the officer of the day. As a captive had informed us that there were three cataracts ahead not far off, I instructed Mr. Jephson that he must follow the river and halt at the first convenient spot about 2.30 P.M.; that I would halt the river column, now consisting of the boat and fourteen canoes, until the rear guard under Captain Nelson had quite left the settlement; but as the canoes would proceed faster than the land caravan, I would probably overtake him, and camp at the first fit place I could find after an hour's row, in which event he would proceed until he found us. The instructions were also repeated to the leading men of the pioneers. [Illustration: WOODEN ARROWS OF THE AVISIBBA. (_From a photograph._)] I ought to have stated that our start at noon was occasioned by the delay caused by the discovery at the morning muster that five men were absent. They ultimately turned up at 10 o'clock; but this perpetual straying away without leave was most exasperating, and had drawn a lecture from me, though this was not uncommon in those stupid early days of training. The Zanzibaris persisted in exhibiting an indifference to danger absolutely startling, not from bravery, or from ignorance of fear, but from an utter incapacity to remember that danger existed, and from a stupid unconsciousness as to how it affected them. Animals are indebted to instinct as a constant monitor against danger, but these men appeared to possess neither instinct nor reason, neither perception nor memory. Their heads were uncommonly empty. The most urgent entreaties to beware of hidden foes, and the most dreadful threats of punishment, failed to impress on their minds the necessity they were under of being prudent, wary, and alert to avoid the skewers in the path, the lurking cannibal behind the plantain stalk, the cunning foe lying under a log, or behind a buttress, and the sunken pit, with its pointed pales at the bottom. When the danger fronted them it found them all unprepared. A sudden shower of arrows sent them howling abjectly out of reach or under shelter; and if the arrows were only followed by a resolute advance, resistance, by reason of excess of terror, would be impossible. An unexpected show of dauntlessness in a native compelled from them a ready recognition of his courage. On the road they sneaked into the woods to avoid the rear guard, but flew screaming with terror if a prowling savage suddenly rose before them with uplifted spear. They roved far singly or by twos amongst the villages, as looting was dear to their hearts; but should they meet the wild owners of them they were more apt to throw the deadly rifle down on the ground than to use it. They strayed through the plantain grove with magnificent unconcern, but if they heard the whiz of an arrow they collapsed nervelessly and submitted to their fate. With an astounding confidence they scattered along the road, and stretched the line of the column to 3 miles in length, but at sight of natives all sense was lost save that of cowardly fear. Out of 370 men at this time in the camp there were clearly 250 of this description, to whom rifles were of no use save as a clumsy, weighty club, which they would part with for a few ears of corn, or would willingly exchange for a light walking staff if they dared. The day previous the Zanzibari head men, urged by their friends, had appeared before me in a body, and demanded to be despatched to forage without any officers, as the officers, they said, bored them with their perpetual orders of "Fall in, fall in." "Why," said they, "who can gather bananas if they are continually watched and told to 'Fall in, fall in?'" "Very true," said I, "the thing is impossible. Let me see what you can do by yourselves. The banana plantations are but a quarter of an hour's distance. I shall expect you all back within an hour." After such an exposition of character as the above it will not be wondered, that, each man having cleared from my presence, forgot all his promises, and wandered according to his wont. A flock of sheep or a herd of swine could not have gone further astray. After fourteen hours' absence the 200 foragers had returned save five. These five had departed no one knew where until 10 A.M. of this day. Ah, those early days! Worse were to come, and then, having become purified by suffering, and taught by awful experience, they became Romans! But to return to Jephson. We pulled up stream--after seeing that every one was clear of the settlement of Avisibba--at the rate of a knot and a half an hour, and at 2.45, having discovered a convenient camp, halted for the night. We waited in vain for Mr. Jephson, and the column fired signal guns, rowed out into the stream, and with a glass searched the shore up and down, but there was no sign of camp-fire, or smoke above the woods, which generally covered the forest as with a fog in still weather, no sound of rifle-shot, blare of trumpet, or human voice. The caravan, we thought, must have found a fine track, and proceeded to the cataracts ahead. On the 16th the river column pulled hard up stream, passed Mabengu villages, came up to a deep but narrow creek flowing from the south bank into the Nevva, as the Aruwimi was now called, looked anxiously up stream, and an hour later we had reached the foot of Mabengu Rapids. On the right bank, opposite to where we selected a camping-place, was a large settlement--that of Itiri. Then, having as yet, met no traces of the absent column, I sent boat's crew up the creek to search for traces of fording. After ascending several miles up the creek, the boat's crew returned unsuccessful; then I despatched it back again to within half-an-hour's distance of Avisibba, and at midnight the boat returned to announce their failure to find any traces of the missing. On the 17th the boat's crew, with "Three o'clock," the hunter (Saat Tato), and six scouts, were sent to our camping-place of the 15th, with orders for the hunter and his six scouts to follow the path observed there--inland--until they had struck the trail of the column, then to follow the trail and overtake them, and return with them to the river. On the boat's return, the coxswain informed me that they had seen the trail about 7 miles (3 hours' march). I concluded that Mr. Jephson had led his column south, instead of E. by N. and E. N. E., according to course of river, and that Saat Tato would overtake them, and return next day. Our condition at the river camp was this. We had thirty-nine canoemen and boatmen, twenty-eight sick people, three Europeans, and three boys, and one of the Europeans (Lieutenant Stairs) was suffering from a dangerous wound, and required the constant care of the surgeon. One man had died of dysentery at Avisibba. We had a dying idiot in camp, who had become idiotic some days before. We had twenty-nine suffering from pleurisy, dysentery, incurable debility, and eight suffering from wounds. One called Khalfan was half strangled with the wound in his windpipe, another called Saadi, wounded in the arm, appeared dangerously ill, his arm was swollen, and gave him great pain. Out of the thirty-nine available I had despatched three separate parties in different directions to scout for news of the missing column, lest it was striking across some great bend to reach the river a long distance higher up, while we, unable to stir, were on the other side of the curve. Across the river the people of Itiri, perceiving we were so quiet on our side of the river, seemed to be meditating an attack, and only two miles below on our bank was the large settlement of Mabengu, from whose inhabitants we might hear at any moment, while our little force of thirty-nine men, scattered in various directions, were searching for the missing 300. But the poet said that it became "No man to nurse despair; But in the teeth of clenched antagonisms To follow the worthiest till he die." [Illustration: THE RIVER COLUMN ASCENDING THE ARUWIMI RIVER WITH "ADVANCE" AND SIXTEEN CANOES.] I quote from my diary of August 18th. The idiot fell asleep last night. His troubles are over, and we have buried him. I wonder if Tennyson were here, who wrote such noble lines, what he would think of our state. A few days ago I was chief of 370 men, rich in goods, munitions of war, medicines, and contented with such poor comforts as we had, and to-day I have actually only eighteen men left fit for a day's march, the rest have vanished. I should be glad to know where. If 389 picked men, such as we were when we left Yambuya, are unable to reach Lake Albert, how can Major Barttelot with 250 men make his way through this endless forest. We have travelled, on an average, 8 hours per day for forty-four days since leaving Yambuya. At two miles per hour we ought, by this date, to have arrived on the Lake shore, but, instead of being there, we have accomplished just a third of the distance. The poet says we must not "nurse despair," for to do that is to lie down and die, to make no effort, and abandon hope. Our wounded take considerable time to heal. The swelling is increasing, the wounds are most painful, not one has yet proved fatal, but they are all quite incapacitated from duty. The fifth rain of this month began at 8 A.M. Had we not enough afflictions without this perpetual rain? One is almost tempted to think that the end is approaching. The very "flood gates of heaven" seem opened, and nature is dissolving. Such a body of rain is falling that the view of all above is obscured by the amazing fall of rain-drops. Think of the countless numbers of leaves in this forest, and that every leaf drops ten to twenty times per minute, and that from the soaking ground rises a grey cloud of minute rain in vapour, and that the air is full of floating globules of water and flying shreds of leaves! And add to all this the intense fall of rain as the blast comes bearing down the top, and whips drowning showers on us, and sways the countless branches, and rushes wailing through the glades with such force, as though it would wrench the groaning trees out of the earth. The moaning and groaning of the forest is far from comforting, and the crashing and fall of mighty trees is far from assuring, but it is a positive terror when the thunder rumbles above, and its sounds reverberating through the aisles and crooked corridors of the forest, and the blazing lightning darts spitefully hither and thither its forky tongues and sheets of flame, and explodes over our heads with overwhelming and deafening shocks. It would be a vast relief for our sick and wounded to be free of such sounds. An European battle has no such variety. And throughout the day this has continued unceasingly. It is now about the tenth hour of the day. It is scarcely possible daylight will ever appear again, at least so I judge from the human faces steeped in misery. Their owners appear stupefied by terror, woe, sickness, loss of friends, hunger, rain and thunder, and general wretchedness. They may be seen crouching under plantain-leaf sheds, native shields, cotton shelters, straw mats, earthen and copper pots above their heads, even saddles, tent canvass covers, blankets, each body wreathed in blue vapour, self-absorbed with speechless anguish. The poor asses with their ears drawn back, inverted eyes and curving backs, captive fowls with drooping crests represent abject discomfort. Alas! the glory of this earth is quite extinguished. When she finally recovered her beauty, and her children assumed their proud bearing, and the growing lakes and increasing rivers were dried up, and how out of chaos the sun rose to comfort the world again I know not. My own feeling of misery had so exhausted me that a long sleep wrapped me in merciful oblivion. _August 19th._--Still without news of land caravan. The scouts have returned without having seen any traces of the missing. Two of the wounded men are doing very badly. Their sufferings appear to be terrible. _August 20th._--Still without news of caravan. Young Saadi wounded by a poisoned arrow on the morning of the 14th, is attacked with tetanus, and is in a very dangerous condition. Wherefore I take it to be a vegetable poison. Khalfan's neck and spine have become rigid. I have given both morphine by injection, but the doses though double, that is in half grains, do not appear to ease the sufferers much. Stairs is just the same as yesterday, neither worse nor better. The wound is painful, still he has appetite, and enjoys sleep. I fear the effect on him of knowing what the other patients are undergoing. It is strange that out of 300 people and 3 officers, not one has sense enough to know that he has lost the road, and that the best way of recovering it would be to retrace their steps to Avisibba and try again. _August 21st._--Poor Khalfan wounded in the windpipe on the 10th instant, and the young fellow Saadi hurt on the morning of the 14th; both died in the night, after intolerable agonies--one at 4 A.M., Saadi about midnight. Khalfan's wound was caused by a poisoned arrow; but the poison must have been laid on the arrow some days before it was used. He had been daily getting weaker from abstinence from food, because of pain. The wound did not seem dangerous; it had closed up, externally, and there were no signs of inflammation; but the poor fellow complained he could not swallow. He had subsisted on liquid food made of plantain flour gruel. On the 8th day his neck became rigid and contracted; he could not articulate, but murmur; the head was inclined forward, the abdomen was shrunk, and on his face lines of pain and anxiety became fixed. Yesterday he had some slight spasms. I gave two injections of half a grain hypodermically, which relieved him for an hour, but, not much accustomed to treat patients with morphia, I feared giving larger doses. Saadi was punctured on the right forearm, midway between wrist and elbow--a mere wound, such as a coarse stocking needle would have made. The wound was sucked by a comrade; it was syringed with warm water and dressed, but on the morning of the fourth day he was attacked with tetanus of so severe a kind that his case was hopeless from our sheer inability to relieve him from the frightful spasms. Morphia injections rendered him slightly somnolent; but the spasms continued, and Saadi died on the 111th hour after receiving the wound. I am inclined to think that the arrow was smeared for the fight of the 14th the night previous. A third man died of dysentery before noon, making the fourth death in this camp. At 5 P.M. the caravan arrived. Its sufferings have been great from mental distress. There have been three deaths also in the land column. Maruf, punctured in shoulder, died of tetanus on the night of the 19th, 24 hours earlier than Saadi. This may have been due to the travel accelerating the action of the poison. One man named Ali was shot by an iron-barbed arrow, and died of internal hæmorrhage, the arrow having pierced the liver. Another succumbed to dysentery immediately after the heavy rain which had afflicted us on the 18th; thus we have had seven fatal cases since the 14th. We have several others, in whom life is flickering. The column brought in two others wounded by arrows. The wounds are much inflamed, and exude a gangrenous matter. Lieut. Stairs still appears hearty, and appears as though he was recovering, despite the influence these many deaths might have on his nerves. The surgeon having appeared, I feel an intense relief. I hate to see pain, and take no delight in sick men's groans. I feel pleasure in ministering to their needs only when conscious I can cure. We have now about 373 in camp, but 60 of them appear fitter for a hospital than to continue our wandering life; but in this savage region not even rest and food can be secured for the weary souls. A few more days of this disheartening work, attending on the sick, looking at the agonies of men dying from lockjaw, listening to their muffled screams, observing general distress and despondency, from hunger, and the sad anxiety caused by the unaccountable absence of their brothers and comrades, with the loss of 300 men impending over me must have exercised a malign influence over myself. I am conscious of the insidious advance of despair towards me. Our food has been bananas or plantains, boiled or fried, our other provisions being reserved for perhaps an extreme occasion which may present itself in the near future. The dearest passion of my life has been, I think, to succeed in my undertakings; but the last few days have begun to fill me with a doubt of success in the present one. What the feelings of the officers have been I have not heard yet; but the men have frankly confessed that they have been delivered from a hell. The following note has just been placed in my hands:-- "_August 1887._ "Dear Sir, "Saat Tato reached us at 3 P.M. yesterday with your order to follow him. We at once recrossed the river (the creek which the boat's crew had searched) and hope to reach you to-night. I can understood how great your anxiety must have been, and deeply regret having caused it. "I have the honour to be, "&c., &c., &c. "A. M. Jephson." On the 22nd we moved camp to the foot of the highest Mabengu Rapids, and on the following day proceeded above the rapids. I then took the opportunity of mustering the people. The following returns tell their own tale:-- Healthy. Sick. Dead. Loads. Company No. 1 80 6 4 43 Captain Stairs, No. 2 69 14 5 50 Captain Nelson, No. 3 67 16 4 72 Captain Jephson, No. 4 63 21 3 72 Europeans 6 Boys 12 Soudanese 10 Somalis 6 Cooks 2 Donkey boy 1 Sick 57 --- 373 Dead 16 --- 389 --- The experiences of the column during its wanderings appeared to confirm me in my impressions that the Aruwimi in this region of rapids was not so much utilized by the natives as it was below. Large settlements had been discovered inland; the scouts had traversed the forest by several well-trodden tracks which led from the river to the interior. The river banks were not so populous, the settlements were now generally a little way inland, and along the river bank was a perceptible path which materially assisted us. Ever since leaving Utiri we had noted this fact. On the 24th we travelled a few miles, and camped below Avugadu Rapids, near a rich plantain grove, and the next day passed the rapids and formed a comfortable camp in a somewhat open portion of the forest, haunted by fishermen. On the 26th the column on land swung along at a good rate, while we had a long stretch of undisturbed river, and had to pull hard to keep pace with them until both columns met in one of the largest villages of the Avejeli tribe established in front of the Nepoko mouth. [Illustration: CASCADES OF THE NEPOKO.] This latter river, of which Dr. Junker was the first to inform us, and which he had crossed far up, tumbled into the Aruwimi, now called the Itiri, by a series of cascades, over reefs of shaly rock, from an altitude of 40 feet. The mouth was about 300 yards wide, narrowing to about 250 yards above the cascade. The natives had staked a considerable distance of the reef, to which to attach their large funnel-shaped baskets for the reception of the fish washed down the rapids. The colour of the Nepoko was of chocolate, that of the Itiri was of tea and milk. Had I known that one week later I should have encountered Arabs, and their desperate bands of Manyuema, there is no doubt that I should have endeavoured to put a degree of latitude between the centre of their influence and our route. Even as it was, I mentally debated a change of route, from some remarks made to me by Binza (Dr. Junker's Monbuttu boy), who suggested that it were better to travel through lands inhabited by "decent men," to such a horrid region infested by peoples who did not deserve the name of men applied to them, and that the Momvu tribes were sure of according a welcome to those who could show in return that they appreciated hospitality. Binza was most enticing in his descriptions of the Momvu nation. But food with the Avejeli was abundant and various, and we hoped that a change had come over the land. For ever since we had observed a difference in the architecture of the native dwellings, we had observed a change for the better in the diet of the people. Below Panga Falls the aborigines principally subsisted on manioc, and on the different breads, puddings, cakes, and porridges to which they converted these tubers. It will not be forgotten, perhaps, that tapioca is made out of manioc or cassava. But above Panga Falls manioc had been gradually replaced by plantain groves and the plantain is a much more excellent edible than manioc for an expedition, and the groves had been clearly growing into higher importance, therefore we hoped that happier days were in store for us. There were also fields of Indian corn, manioc, yams, and colocassia, plots of tobacco for the smokers, and to our great joy we came across many fowls. A halt was ordered that the sorely-tried people might recuperate. In their very excusable eagerness for meat the Zanzibaris and Soudanese were very reckless. No sooner was a fowl sighted than there was a general scramble for it; some reckless fellows used their rifles to shoot the chickens, and many a cartridge was expended uselessly for which due punishment was frequently awarded. The orders were most positive that no ammunition was to be wasted, and the efforts made to detect all breaches of these orders were most energetic, but when did a Zanzibari obey orders when away from his employer's eye? The indiscriminate shooting of this day resulted in the shooting of one of the brave band of hard-working pioneers. A bullet from a Winchester struck him in the foot, the bones of which were pulverized and its amputation became imperative. Surgeon Parke performed the operation in a most skilful and expeditious manner, and as the good surgeon was most resolute when "one of his cases" required care--this unfortunate[I] young man had to be lifted in and out by eight men, must needs have the largest share of a canoe that nothing might offend the tender wound, and of necessity required and received the most bounteous supply of the best food and to have servants to wait upon him--in short, such a share of good things and ready services that I often envied him, and thought that for a sixpence in addition I would not mind exchanging places with him. Of course another severe lecture followed, and there were loud protestations that they would all pay implicit attention in the future, and of course before the next day every promise was forgotten. There is much to be said for these successive breaches of promise. They relieve the mind from vast care and all sense of responsibility. No restraint burdens it, and an easy gladness brightens the face. Why should a man, being an animal, continually fetter himself with obligations as though he were a moral being to be held accountable for every idle word uttered in a gushing moment? On the 28th the river column consisting now of the _Advance_ steel boat and sixteen canoes, pushed up river to a camp five miles above Avejeli. The land party was left far behind, for they were struggling through a series of streams and creeks, and buried in depths of suffocatingly close bush, and did not arrive until the next day at noon, when they were urged to proceed about two hours higher, whither we followed them. We arrived at the foot of a big cataract on the 30th, and by observation ascertained that we had reached half-way to the Albert Lake, Kavalli being in 30° 30' and Yambuya in 25° 3-1/2'. Our camp on this day was in about 27° 47'. We had 163 geographical miles in an air line to make yet, which we could never accomplish within 64 days as we had performed the western half of the route. The people were in an impoverished state of body, and mentally depressed, ulcers were raging like an epidemic, anæmia had sapped their vitality. They were told the half-way camp was reached, but they replied with murmurs of unbelief. They asked, "How can the master tell? Will that instrument show him the road? Will it tell him which is the path? Why does it not tell us, then, that we may see and believe? Don't the natives know their own country better? Which of them has seen grass? Do they not all say that all the world is covered with trees and thick bush? Bah--the master talks to us as though we were children and had no proper perception." The morning of the evil date, August 31st, dawned as on other days. It struggled through dense clouds of mist, and finally about 9 o'clock the sun appeared, pale, indistinct, a mere circle of lustreless light. But in the meantime we were hard at our frequent task of cutting a broad highway through the bush and forest, through which the boat could be carried bodily by 60 men, standing underneath; the crew of the flotilla were wrestling with the mad waters, and shoving their vessels up steep slopes of a racing river. The highway was finished in an hour, and a temporary camp was located above. The canoes began to arrive. I left the Doctor to superintend the pioneers bearing the boat, but he presently returned to report that the boat could not be lifted. I retraced my steps to oversee the operation personally. I had succeeded in conveying it half way when my European servant came running at a mad pace, crying out as he ran: "Sir, oh, sir, Emin Pasha has arrived." "Emin Pasha!" [Illustration: "THE PASHA IS COMING."] "Yes, sir. I have seen him in a canoe. His red flag, like ours (the Egyptian), is hoisted up at the stern. It is quite true, sir!" Of course we bounded forward; the boat was dropped as though it was red hot. A race began, master and man striving for the lead. In the camp the excitement was also general. It was owing, we soon heard, to the arrival of nine Manyuema, who served one called Uledi Balyuz, known to natives by the name of Ugarrowwa, and who was reported to be settled about eight marches up river, and commanding several hundred armed men. The Arabs were, then, so far inland on the Upper Aruwimi, and I had flattered myself that I had heard the last of these rovers! We were also told that there were fifty of them camped six miles above on their way, by orders of Ugarrowwa, to explore the course of the river, to ascertain if communication with Stanley Falls could be obtained by the unknown stream on whose banks they had settled. We imparted the information they desired, whereupon they said they would return to their camp and prepare for a hospitable reception on the morrow. The Zanzibaris were considerably elated at the news, for what reason may shortly be seen. The first absconder was one Juma, who deserted with half a hundredweight of biscuit that night. On the 1st September, in the early morning, we were clear of the rapids, and, rowing up in company with the caravan, were soon up at the village where the Manyuema were said to be camped. At the gate there was a dead male child, literally hacked to pieces; within the palisades was a dead woman, who had been speared. The Manyuema had disappeared. It seemed to us then that some of our men had damped their joy at the encounter with us, by suggesting that the slaves with them might probably cause in us a revulsion of feeling. Suspicion of this caused an immediate change in their feelings. Their fears impelled them to decamp instantly. Their society was so much regretted, however, that five Zanzibaris, taking five loads, four of ammunition and one of salt, disappeared. We resumed our journey, and halted at the base of another series of rapids. The next day Saat Tato, having explored the rapids, reported encouragingly, and expressed his confidence that without much difficulty these could also be surmounted. This report stimulated the boatmen to make another trial. While the river column was busy in its own peculiar and perilous work, a search party was despatched to hunt news of the missing men, and returned with one man, a box of ammunition, and three rifles. The search party had discovered the deserters in the forest, with a case of ammunition open, which they were distributing. In trying to surround them, the deserters became alarmed and scudded away, leaving three of their rifles and a case behind them. On the 3rd of September five more deserted, carrying away one case of Remington cartridges, one case of Winchester cartridges, one box of European provisions, and one load of fine Arab clothing, worth £50. Another was detected with a box of provisions open before him, having already abstracted a tin of sago, one tin of Liebig, a tin of butter, and one of milk. Ten men had thus disappeared in a couple of days. At this rate, in sixty days the Expedition would be ended. I consulted the chiefs, but I could gain no encouragement to try what extreme measures would effect. It was patent, however, to the dullest that we should be driven to resort to extremities soon to stop this wholesale desertion and theft. Since leaving Yambuya we had lost forty-eight rifles and fifteen cases of Maxim, Winchester, and Remington ammunition. The day following four men deserted, and one was caught in the act of desertion. The people were accordingly mustered, and sixty men, suspected of being capable of desertion, as no head man would guarantee their fidelity, were rendered helpless by abstracting the mainsprings of the rifles, which we took and locked up. Demoralisation had set in rapidly since we had met the Manyuema. Nothing was safe in their hands. Boxes had been opened, cloth had been stolen, beads had been pilfered, much ammunition had been taken out of the cases, and either thrown, or secreted as a reserve, by the way. On September 5th we camped near Hippo Broads, so called because the river was fine and broad, and a large herd of hippopotami were seen. The site of our resting place was an abandoned clearing, which had become the haunts of these amphibiæ, and exquisite bits of greensward caused us to imagine for a moment that possibly the open country was not far. Foragers returned after a visit into the interior, on both banks, with four goats and a few bananas, numbers of roast rats, cooked beetles, and slugs. On the 6th we reached a cataract opposite the Bafaido settlement, where we obtained a respectable supply of plantains. The day following we dragged our canoes over a platform of rock, over a projecting ledge of which the river tumbled 10 feet. From the Bafaido cataract we journeyed along a curving river to Avakubi Rapids, and formed a camp at the landing-place. A path led hence into the interior, which the hungry people soon followed. While scouring the country for food, a woman and child were found, who were brought to me to be examined. But the cleverest interpreter was at fault. No one understood a syllable of the meaningless babble. Some more rapids were reached the next day. We observed that the oil-palm flourished throughout this section. Palm nuts were seen in heaps near each village. We even discovered some palms lately planted, which showed some regard for posterity. Achmet, the Somali, who had insisted on leaving Yambuya, in accompanying us had been a passenger ever since we had struck the river above Yankondé, was reported to be dying. He was said to suffer from melanosis. Whatever the disease might be, he had become singularly emaciated, being a literal skeleton covered lightly with skin. From this camp we rounded a point, passed over a short winding course of river, and in an hour approached in view of an awful raging stream choked by narrow banks of shale. The outlook beyond the immediate foreview was first of a series of rolling waves whirling and tossed into spray, descending in succeeding lines, and a great fall of about 30 feet, and above that a steep slope of wild rapids, and the whole capped with mist, and tearing down tumultuously towards us. This was appalling considering the state of the column. There were about 120 loads in the canoes, and between fifty and sixty sick and feeble people. To leave these in the woods to their fate was impossible, to carry the loads and advance appeared equally so; yet to drag the canoes and bear the boat past such a long stretch of wild water appeared to be a task beyond our utmost powers. [Illustration: VIEW OF BAFAIDO CATARACT.] Leaving the vessels below the falls and rapids, I led the Expedition by land to the destroyed settlement of Navabi, situated near a bend of the Itiri (Aruwimi) above the disturbed stream, where we established a camp. The sick dragged themselves after the caravan, those too feeble and helpless to travel the distance were lifted up and borne to the camp. Officers then mustered the companies for the work of cutting a broad highway through the bush and hauling the canoes. This task occupied two whole days, while No. 1 Company foraged far and near to obtain food, but with only partial success. [Illustration: ATTACKING AN ELEPHANT IN THE ITURI RIVER.] Navabi must have been a remarkable instance of aboriginal prosperity once. It possessed groves of the elais and plantain, large plots of tobacco and Indian corn; the huts under the palms looked almost idyllic; at least so we judged from two which were left standing, and gave us a bit of an aspect at once tropical, pretty, and apparently happy. Elsewhere the whole was desolate. Some parties, which we conjectured belonged to Ugarrowwa, had burnt the settlement, chopped many of the palms down, levelled the banana plantations, and strewed the ground with the bones of the defenders. Five skulls of infants were found within our new camp at Navabi. On the 12th, as we resumed our journey, we were compelled to leave five men who were in an unconscious state and dying. Achmet, the Somali, whom we had borne all the way from Yambuya, was one of them. From Navabi we proceeded to the landing place of Memberri, which evidently was a frequent haunt of elephants. One of these not far off was observed bathing luxuriously in the river near the right bank. Hungry for meat, I was urged to try my chance. On this Expedition I had armed myself with the Express rifles of 577-bore, which Indian sportsmen so much applaud. The heavy 8-bores were with Major Barttelot and Mr. Jameson. I succeeded in planting six shots in the animal at a few yards distance, but to no purpose except to unnecessarily wound him. At Memberri we made a muster, and according to returns our numbers stood:-- August 23rd 373 men. September 12th 343 men. 14 deserted and 16 deaths; carriers 235; loads 227; sick 58 Added to these eloquent records every member of the Expedition suffered from hunger, and the higher we ascended the means for satisfying the ever-crying want of food appeared to diminish, for the Bakusu and Basongora slaves, under the Manyuema head men of Ugarrowwa, had destroyed the plantations, and either driven the populations to unknown recesses in the forest or had extirpated them. On the following day we reached Amiri Falls. The previous day the head man, Saadi, had been reproached for leaving one named Makupeté to return along the track to search for a box of ammunition that was reported to be missing, whereupon Saadi took the unwise resolution of proceeding to hunt up Makupeté. Then one, Uledi Manga, disgusted with the severe work and melancholy prospect before us, absconded with another box of ammunition. We had only three Zanzibar donkeys left. Out of the six with which we had started from Yambuya, one of the three, probably possessed with a presentiment that the caravan was doomed, took it into his head that it was better to return before it was too late, and deserted also. Whither he went no one knew. It is useless to search in the forest for a lost man, donkey, or article. Like the waves divided by a ship's prow uniting at the stern, so the forest enfolds past finding within its deep shades whatsoever enters, and reveals nothing. Near a single old fishing hut our camp was pitched on the 15th. The river after its immense curve northward and eastward now trended south-easterly, and we had already reached S. Lat. 1° 24' from 1° 58'. Having been in the habit of losing a box of ammunition per diem for the last few days, having tried almost every art of suppressing this robbery, we now had recourse to lashing the boxes in series of eights, and consigning each to the care of a head man, and holding him responsible for them. This we hoped would check the excuse that the men disappeared into the forest under all kinds of wants. On the 16th of September, while halting for the midday rest and lunch, several loud reports of musketry were heard up-river. I sent Saat Tato to explore, and in half-an-hour we heard three rifle-shots announcing success; and shortly after three canoes besides our own appeared loaded with men in white dresses, and gay with crimson flags. These came, so they reported, to welcome us in the name of Ugarrowwa, their chief, who would visit my evening camp. After exchanging compliments, they returned up-river, firing their muskets and singing gaily. At the usual hour we commenced the afternoon march, and at 4 P.M. were in camp just below Ugarrowwa's station. At the same time a roll of drums, the booming of many muskets, and a flotilla of canoes, announced the approach of the Arab leader. About 50 strong, robust fellows accompanied him, besides singers and women, every one of whom was in prime condition of body. The leader gave his name as Ugarrowwa, the Zanzibar term for "Lualaba," or native name of "Ruarawwa," known formerly as Uledi Balyuz (or the Consuls Uledi). He had accompanied Captains Speke and Grant, 1860-3, as a tent-boy, and had been left or had deserted in Unyoro. He offered as a gift to us two fat goats and about 40 lbs. of picked rice, a few ripe plantains, and fowls. Upon asking him if there was any prospect of food being obtained for the people in the vicinity of his station, he admitted, to our sorrow, that his followers in their heedless way had destroyed everything, that it was impossible to check them because they were furious against the "pagans" for the bloody retaliation and excesses the aborigines had committed against many and many of their countrymen during their search for ivory. Asked what country we were in, he replied that we were in Bunda, the natives of which were Babunda; that the people on the north bank in the neighbourhood of his station were called Bapai or Bavaiya. He also said that his raiders had gone eastward a month's journey, and had seen from a high hill (Kassololo?), a grassy country extending to the eastward. Further information was to the effect that his caravan, 600 strong, had left the Lualaba at Kibongés (above Leopold R.), and that in nine moons he had travelled the distance of 370 geographical miles, about a N.E. course, throughout continuous forest without having seen as much grass as would cover the palm of his hand; that he had only crossed one river, the Lindi, before he sighted the Ituri, as the Aruwimi was now called; that he had heard from Arab traders that the Lulu (Lowwa) rose from a small lake called the Ozo, where there was a vast quantity of ivory. Four days higher Ugarrowwa possessed another station manned with 100 guns, near the Lenda river, a tributary of the Aruwimi, which entered it from the south bank. His people had sown rice, of which he had brought us some, and onions; but near each settlement was a waste, as it was not policy to permit such "murderous pagans" to exist near them, otherwise he and his people's lives were not safe. He had lost about 200 men of the Bakusu and Basangora tribes, and many a fine Manyuema headman. One time he had lost 40, of whom not one had returned. He had an Arab guest at his station who had lost every soul out of his caravan. I observed a disposition on his part to send some men with me to the Lake, and there appeared to be no difficulty in housing with him my sick men for a consideration to be hereafter agreed upon. On the 17th we proceeded a short distance to encamp opposite Ugarrowwa's station. In the afternoon I was rowed across in my boat to the Arab settlement, and was hospitably received. I found the station to be a large settlement, jealously fenced round with tall palisades and short planks lashed across as screens against chance arrows. In the centre, facing the river, was the house of the chief, commodious, lofty, and comfortable, the walls of which were pierced for musketry. It resembled a fort with its lofty and frowning walls of baked clay. On passing through a passage which separated Ugarrowwa's private apartments from the public rooms, I had a view of a great court 60 feet square, surrounded by buildings and filled with servants. It suggested something baronial in its busy aspect, the abundant service, the great difference of the domestics, amplitude of space, and plenty. The place was certainly impregnable against attack, and, if at all spiritedly defended, a full battalion would have been necessary to have captured this outpost of a slave trader. I was informed that the river for many days' march appeared to flow from the eastward; that the Ihuru, a considerable distance up, flowed from the northward and joined the Ituri, and that, besides the Lenda, there was another affluent called the Ibina, which entered from the south. Somewhere higher up also,--vaguely given as ten days' by others twenty days' march,--another Arab was settled who was called Kilonga-Longa, though his real name was also Uledi. At this settlement I saw the first specimen of the tribe of dwarfs who were said to be thickly scattered north of the Ituri, from the Ngaiyu eastward. She measured thirty-three inches in height, and was a perfectly formed young woman of about seventeen, of a glistening and smooth sleekness of body. Her figure was that of a miniature coloured lady, not wanting in a certain grace, and her face was very prepossessing. Her complexion was that of a quadroon, or of the colour of yellow ivory. Her eyes were magnificent, but absurdly large for such a small creature--almost as large as that of a young gazelle; full, protruding, and extremely lustrous. Absolutely nude, the little demoiselle was quite possessed, as though she were accustomed to be admired, and really enjoyed inspection. She had been discovered near the sources of the Ngaiyu. Ugarrowwa, having shown me all his treasures, including the splendid store of ivory he had succeeded in collecting, accompanied me to the boat, and sent away with me large trays of exquisitely cooked rice, and an immense bowl full of curried fowl, a dish that I am not fond of, but which inspired gratitude in my camp. Our landing-place presented a lively scene. The sellers of bananas, potatoes, sugar-cane, rice, flour of manioc, and fowls clamoured for customers, and cloths and beads exchanged hands rapidly. This is the kind of life which the Zanzibaris delight in, like almost all other natives, and their happy spirits were expressed in sounds to which we had long been strangers. Early this morning I had sent a canoe to pick up any stragglers that might have been unable to reach camp, and before 3 P.M. five sick men, who had surrendered themselves to their fate, were brought in, and shortly after a muster was held. The following were the returns of men able to march:-- Men. Chiefs. No. 1 Company 69 4 No. 2 " 57 4 No. 3 " 60 4 No. 4 " 61 4 Cooks 3 Boys 9 Europeans 6 Soudanese 6 --- --- 271 16 Sick 56 --- 327 Departed from Yambuya 389 --- Loss by desertion and death 62 --- The boat and canoes were manned, and the sick transported to the Arab settlement, arrangements having been made for boarding them at the rate of five dollars each per month until Major Barttelot should appear, or some person bearing an order from me. It will be remembered that we met Ugarrowwa's men on the 31st of August, one day's march from Avejeli, opposite the Nepoko mouth. These men, instead of pursuing their way down river, had returned to Ugarrowwa to inform him of the news they had received from us, believing that their mission was accomplished. It was Ugarrowwa's wish to obtain gunpowder, as his supply was nearly exhausted. Major Barttelot possessed two and a quarter tons of this explosive, and, as reported by us, was advancing up river, but as he had so much baggage it would take several months before he could arrive so far. I wished to communicate with Major Barttelot, and accordingly I stipulated with Ugarrowwa that if his men continued their way down river along the south or left bank until they delivered a letter into his hands, I would give him an order for three hundredweight of powder. He promised to send forty scouts within a month, and expressed great gratitude. (He actually did send them, as he promised, between the 20th and 25th of October. They succeeded in reaching Wasp Rapids, 165 miles from Yambuya, whence they were obliged to return, owing to losses and the determined hostility of the natives.) Our Zanzibari deserters had been deluded like ourselves. Imagining that Ugarrowwa's people had continued their journey along some inland route westward, they had hastened westward in pursuit to join them, whereas we discovered they had returned eastward to their master. The arrangements made with Ugarrowwa, and the public proclamation of the man himself before all, would, I was assured, suffice to prevent further desertion. We were pretty tired of the river work with its numerous rapids, and I suggested to Ugarrowwa that I should proceed by land; the Arab, however, was earnest in dissuading me from that course, as the people would be spared the necessity of carrying many loads, the sick having been left behind, and informed me that his information led him to believe that the river was much more navigable above for many days than below. ----- [I] Was he very unfortunate? I paid Ugarrowwa for thirteen months' board, sent him to Stanley Falls, thence down the Congo and by sea to Madeira, _viâ_ the Cape to Zanzibar, where he arrived in a state well described by "as fat as butter." CHAPTER IX. UGARROWWA'S TO KILONGA-LONGA'S. Ugarrowwa sends us three Zanzibari deserters--We make an example--The "Express" rifles--Conversation with Rashid--The Lenda river--Troublesome rapids--Scarcity of food--Some of Kilonga-Longa's followers--Meeting of the rivers Ihuru and Ituri--State and numbers of the Expedition--Illness of Captain Nelson--We send couriers ahead to Kilonga-Longa's--The sick encampment--Randy and the guinea fowl--Scarcity of food--Illness caused by the forest pears--Fanciful menus--More desertions--Asmani drowned--Our condition in brief--Uledi's suggestion--Umari's climb--My donkey is shot for food--We strike the track of the Manyuema and arrive at their village. Once more the Expedition consisted of picked men. My mind was relieved of anxiety respecting the rear column, and of the fate which threatened the sick men. We set out from Ugarrowwa's station with 180 loads in the canoes and boat, forty-seven loads to be carried once in four days by alternate companies. The Arabs accompanied us for a few hours on the 19th to start us on our road and to wish us success in our venture. We had scarcely been all collected in our camp, and the evening was rapidly becoming dusky, when a canoe from Ugarrowwa appeared with three Zanzibaris bound as prisoners. Inquiring the cause of this, I was astonished to find that they were deserters whom Ugarrowwa had picked up soon after reaching his station. They had absconded with rifles, and their pouches showed that they had contrived to filch cartridges on the road. I rewarded Ugarrowwa with a revolver and 200 cartridges. The prisoners were secured for the night, but before retiring I debated carefully as to what method was best to deal with these people. If this were permitted to proceed without the strongest measures, we should in a short time be compelled to retrace our steps, and all the lives and bitter agonies of the march would have been expended in vain. In the morning "all hands" were mustered, and an address was delivered to the men in fitting words, to which all assented; and all agreed that we had endeavoured our utmost to do our duty, that we had all borne much, but that the people on this occasion appeared to be all slaves, and possessed no moral sense whatever. They readily conceded that if natives attempted to steal our rifles, which were "our souls," we should be justified in shooting them dead, and that if men, paid for their labour, protected and treated kindly, as they were, attempted to cut our throats in the night, were equally liable to be shot. "Well then," said I, "what are these doing but taking our arms, and running away with our means of defence. You say that you would shoot natives, if they stood in your way preventing your progress onward or retreat backward. What are these doing? For if you have no rifles left, or ammunition, can you march either forward or backward?" "No," they admitted. "Very well, then, you have condemned them to death. One shall die to-day, another to-morrow, and another the next day, and from this day forward, every thief and deserter who leaves his duty and imperils his comrades' lives shall die." The culprits were then questioned as to who they were. One replied that he was the slave of Farjalla-bill Ali--a headman in No. 1 company; another that he was the slave of a Banyan in Zanzibar, and the third that he was the slave of an artizan at work in Unyanyembé. Lots were cast, and he who chose the shortest paper of three slips was the one to die first. The lot fell upon the slave of Farjalla, who was then present. The rope was heaved over a stout branch. Forty men at the word of command lay hold of the rope and a noose was cast round the prisoner's neck. "Have you anything to say before the word is given?" He replied with a shake of the head. The signal was given, and the man was hoisted up. Before the last struggles were over, the Expedition had filed out of camp leaving the rear-guard and river column behind. A rattan was substituted in place of our rope, the body was secured to the tree, and within fifteen minutes the camp was abandoned. We made good progress on this day. A track ran along the river which greatly assisted the caravan. In passing through we searched and found only ten bunches of miniature plantains. We formed camp an hour's distance from the confluence of the Lenda and Ituri. Another noble tusker was bathing opposite the river, and Captain Nelson, with a double-barrelled rifle, similar to my own, myself, and Saat Tato the hunter, crossed over and floated down within fifteen yards of the elephant. We fired three bullets simultaneously into him, and in a second had planted two more, and yet with all this lead fired at vital parts the animal contrived to escape. From this time we lost all confidence in these rifles. We never bagged one head of game with the Expresses during the entire Expedition. Captain Nelson sold his rifle for a small supply of food to Kilonga-Longa some time afterwards, and I parted with mine as a gift to Antari, King of Ankori, nearly two years later. With the No. 8 or No. 10 Reilly rifle I was always successful, therefore those interested in such things may avail themselves of our experience. As the next day dawned and a grey light broke through the umbrageous coping of the camp I despatched a boy to call the head chief Rashid. "Well, Rashid, old man, we shall have to execute the other man presently. It will soon be time to prepare for it. What do you say?" "Well, what can we do else than kill those who are trying to kill us? If we point to a pit filled at the bottom with pointed pales and poisoned skewers, and tell men to beware of it, surely we are not to blame if men shut their ears to words of warning and spring in. On their own heads let the guilt lie." "But it is very hard after all. Rashid bin Omar, this forest makes men's hearts like lead, and hunger has driven their wits out of their heads; nothing is thought of but the empty belly and crying stomach. I have heard that when mothers are driven by famine they will sometimes eat their children. Why should we wonder that the servant runs away from his master when he cannot feed him?" "That is the truth as plain as sunshine. But if we have to die let us all die together. There are plenty of good men here who will give you their hearts whenever you bid them do it. There are others--slaves of slaves--who know nothing and care for nothing, and as they would fly with what we need to make our own lives sure, let them perish and rot. They all know that you, a Christian, are undergoing all this to save the sons of Islam who are in trouble near some great sea, beyond here; they profess Islam, and yet would leave the Christian in the bush. Let them die." "But supposing, Rashid, we could prevent this breakup and near ruin by some other way not quite so severe as to hang them up until they are dead; what would you say?" "I would say, sir, that all ways are good, but, without doubt, the best is that which will leave them living to repent." "Good, then, after my coffee the muster will be sounded. Meanwhile, prepare a long rattan cable; double it over that stout branch yonder. Make a good noose of a piece of that new sounding line. Get the prisoner ready, put guards over him, then when you hear the trumpet tell these words in the ears of the other chiefs, 'Come to me, and ask his pardon, and I will give it you.' I shall look to you, and ask if you have anything to say; that will be your signal. How do you like it?" "Let it be as you say. The men will answer you." In half-an-hour the muster signal sounded; the companies formed a square enclosing the prisoner. A long rattan cable hung suspended with the fatal noose attached to a loop; it trailed along the ground like an immense serpent. After a short address, a man advanced and placed the noose around the neck; a company was told off to hoist the man upward. "Now, my man, have you anything to say to us before you join your brother who died yesterday?" The man remained silent, and scarcely seemed conscious that I spoke. I turned round to the head man. "Have you anything to say before I pass the word?" Then Rashid nudged his brother chiefs, at which they all rushed up, and threw themselves at my feet, pleading forgiveness, blaming in harsh terms the thieves and murderers, but vowing that their behaviour in future would be better if mercy was extended for this one time. During this scene the Zanzibaris' faces were worth observing. How the eyes dilated and the lips closed, and their cheeks became pallid, as with the speed of an electric flash the same emotion moved them! "Enough, children! take your man, his life is yours. But see to it. There is only one law in future for him who robs us of a rifle, and that is death by the cord." Then such a manifestation of feeling occurred that I was amazed--real big tears rolled down many a face, while every eye was suffused and enlarged with his passionate emotions. Caps and turbans were tossed into the air. Rifles were lifted, and every right arm was up as they exclaimed "Until the white cap is buried none shall leave him! Death to him who leaves Bula Matari! Show the way to the Nyanza! Lead on now--now we will follow!" Nowhere have I witnessed such affecting excitement except in Spain--perhaps when the Republicans stormily roared their sentiments, after listening to some glorious exhortations to stand true to the new faith in Libertad, Igualdad, and Fraternidad! The prisoner also wept, and after the noose was flung aside knelt down and vowed to die at my feet. We shook hands and I said, "It is God's work, thank Him." Merrily the trumpet blared once more, and at once rose every voice, "By the help of God! By the help of God!" The detail for the day sprang to their posts, received their heavy load for the day, and marched away rejoicing as to a feast. Even the officers smiled their approval. Never was there such a number of warmed hearts in the forest of the Congo as on that day. The land and river columns reached the Lenda within an hour, and about the same time. This was apparently a deep river about a hundred yards wide. On the west side of the confluence was a small village, but its plantain groves had been long ago despoiled of fruit. Soon after the ferriage was completed the men were permitted to scour the country in search of food; some on the north bank, and others on the south bank, but long before night they all returned, having been unable to find a morsel of any kind of edible. On the 22nd, while pursuing our way by river and by land as usual, I reflected that only on the 18th I had left fifty-six invalids under the care of an Arab; yet on observing the people at the muster, I noticed that there were about fifty already incapacitated by debility. The very stoutest and most prudent were pining under such protracted and mean diet. To press on through such wastes unpeopled by the ivory hunters appeared simply impossible, but on arriving at Umeni we had the good fortune to find sufficient for a full day's rations, and hope again filled us. The following day, one man, called "Abdallah the humped," deserted. We on the river were troubled with several rapids, and patches of broken water, and in discharging cargo, and hauling canoes, and finally we came in view of a fall of forty feet with lengths of rapids above and below. One would have thought that by this time the Ituri would have become an insignificant stream, but when we saw the volume of water precipitated over the third large cataract, we had to acknowledge that it was still a powerful river. The 24th was passed by us in foraging, and cutting a highway to above the rapids and disconnecting boat sections for transport. The pioneers secured a fair quantity of plantains, the three other companies nothing. The obstructions to this cataract consisted of reddish schistose rock. On the next day we were clear of the third cataract and halted at an old Arab encampment. During this day no new supply of food was obtained. The day following we reached another series of rapids, and after a terrible day's work unloading and reshipping several times, with the fatigues and anxiety incurred during the mounting of the dangerous rapids, we reached camp opposite Avatiko. How useful the boat and canoes were to us may be imagined from the fact that it required us to make three round trips to carry 227 loads. Even then it occupied all the healthy men until night. The people were so reduced by hunger, that over a third could do no more than crawl. I was personally reduced to two bananas on this day from morning to night. But some of our Zanzibaris had found nothing to subsist on for two entire days, which was enough to sap the strength of the best. A foraging party of No. 1 Company crossed the river to Avatiko settlement, and found a small supply of young fruit, but they captured a woman who stated that she knew and could guide us to plantains as large as her arms. The 27th of September was a halt. I despatched Lieutenant Stairs to explore ahead along the river, and 180 men across river to forage for food, with our female captive as guide. The former returned to report that no village had been seen, and to detail an exciting encounter he had had with elephants, from which it appeared he had a narrow escape. The Zanzibaris came back with sufficient plantains to distribute from sixty to eighty per man. If the people had followed our plan of economising the food, we should have had less suffering to record, but their appetites were usually ungovernable. The quantity now distributed impartially, ought to have served them for from six to eight days, but several sat up all night to eat, trusting in God to supply them with more on peremptory demand. On the 30th the river and land parties met at lunch time. This day the officers and myself enjoyed a feast. Stairs had discovered a live antelope in a pit, and I had discovered a mess of fresh fish in a native basket-net at the mouth of a small creek. In the afternoon we camped at a portion of the river bank which showed signs of its being used as a landing near a ferry. Soon after camping we were startled by three shots. These indicated the presence of Manyuema, and presently about a dozen fine-looking men stalked into the camp. They were the followers of Kilonga-Longa, the rival of Ugarrowwa in the career of devastation to which these two leaders had committed themselves. The Manyuema informed us that Kilonga-Longa's settlement was but five days' journey, and that as the country was uninhabited it would be necessary to provide rations of plantains which could be procured across river, and that still a month's journey lay between us and the grass land. They advised us to stay at the place two days to prepare the food, to which we were very willing to agree, the discovery of some kind of provisions being imperative. During the first day's halt, the search for food was unsuccessful, but on the second day at early dawn a strong detachment left for the north bank, under Lieutenant Stairs and Surgeon Parke. In the afternoon the foragers returned with sufficient plantains to enable us to serve out forty to each man. Some of the most enterprising men had secured more, but extreme want had rendered them somewhat unscrupulous, and they had contrived to secrete a small reserve. On the 3rd of October, soon after leaving our camp in the morning, we entered into a pool-like formation, surrounded by hills rising from 250 to 600 feet above the river, and arriving at the end saw a crooked, ditch-like, and very turbulent stream. The scenery reminded us of a miniature Congo cañon banked as it was with lines of lofty hills. A presentiment warned us that we were about to meet more serious obstacles than any we had yet met. We progressed, however, upward about three miles, but the difficulties of advance were so numerous that we were unable to reach the caravan camp. On the 4th we proceeded about a mile and a half, and crossed the Expedition to the north bank, as we had been told that the Manyuema settlement of Ipoto was situated on that side. The Manyuema had disappeared, and three of our deserters had accompanied them. Two men had also died of dysentery. We experienced several narrow escapes; a canoe was twice submerged, the steel boat was nearly lost, and the severe bumping she received destroyed the rate of our chronometers, which hitherto had been regular. I should have abandoned the river on this day, but the wilderness, the horrible, lonely, uninhabited wilderness, and the excessive physical prostration and weakness of the people, forbade it. We hoped and hoped that we should be able to arrive at some place where food and rest could be obtained, which appeared improbable, except at Kilonga-Longa's settlement. The next day we arrived, at 10 A.M., after a push through terribly wild water, at a sharp bend curving eastward from N.E., distinguished by its similarity of outline on a small scale to Nsona Mamba, of the Lower Congo. Stepping on shore before we had gone far within the bend, and standing on some lava-like rock, I saw at a glance that this was the end of river navigation by canoes. The hills rose up to a bolder height, quite 600 feet, the stream was contracted to a width of twenty-five yards, and about a hundred yards above the point on which I stood, the Ihuru escaped, wild and furious, from a gorge; while the Ituri was seen descending from a height in a series of cataracts, and, both uniting at this point, and racing madly at the highest pitch and velocity, bellowed their uproar loudly amongst the embanking and sombre forest heights. I sent messengers across the river to recall the caravan which was under the leadership of Stairs, and on their return recrossed the people to the south bank. On the morning of the 6th of October our state and numbers were 271 in number, including white and black. Since then two had died of dysentery, one from debility, four had deserted, and one man was hanged. We had therefore 263 men left. Out of this number fifty-two had been reduced to skeletons, who first, attacked by ulcers, had been unable to forage, and to whom through their want of economizing what rations had been distributed, had not sufficient to maintain them during the days that intervened of total want. These losses in men left me 211 still able to march, and as among these there were forty men non-carriers, and as I had 227 loads, it followed that when I needed carriage, I had about eighty loads more than could be carried. Captain Nelson for the last two weeks had also suffered from a dozen small ulcers, which had gradually increased in virulence. On this day then, when the wild state of the river quite prohibited further progress by it, he and fifty-two men were utterly unfit and incapable of travel. It was a difficult problem that now faced us. Captain Nelson was our comrade, whom to save we were bound to exert our best force. To the fifty-two black men we were equally bound by the most solemn obligations; and dark as was the prospect around us, we were not so far reduced but that we entertained a lively hope that we could save them. As the Manyuema had reported that their settlement was only five days' journey, and we had already travelled two days' march, then probably the village or station was still three days ahead of us. It was suggested by Captain Nelson that if we despatched intelligent couriers ahead, they would be enabled to reach Kilonga-Longa's settlement long before the column. As this suggestion admitted of no contradiction, and as the head men were naturally the most capable and intelligent, the chief of the head men and five others were hastened off, and instructed at once to proceed along the south bank of the river until they discovered some landing place, whence they must find means to cross the Ituri and find the settlement, and obtain an immediate store of food. Before starting officers and men demanded to know from me whether I believed the story of Arabs being ahead. I replied that I believed most thoroughly, but that it was possible that the Manyuema had underestimated the distance to gratify or encourage us and abate our anxiety. After informing the unfortunate cripples of our intention to proceed forward until we could find food that we might not all be lost, and send relief as quickly as it could be obtained, I consigned the fifty-two men, eighty-one loads, and ten canoes in charge of Captain Nelson--bade him be of good cheer, and hoisting our loads and boat on our shoulders, we marched away. No more gloomy spot could have been selected for a camp than that sandy terrace, encompassed by rocks and hemmed in narrowly by those dark woods, which rose from the river's edge to the height of 600 feet, and pent in the never-ceasing uproar created by the writhing and tortured stream and the twin cataracts, that ever rivalled each other's thunder. The imagination shudders at the hapless position of those crippled men, who were doomed to remain inactive, to listen every moment to the awful sound of that irreconcilable fury of wrathful waters, and the monotonous and continuous roar of plunging rivers, to watch the leaping waves, coiling and twisting into changing columns as they ever wrestled for mastery with each other, and were dashed in white fragments of foam far apart by the ceaseless force of driven currents; to gaze at the dark, relentless woods spreading upward and around, standing perpetually fixed in dull green, mourning over past ages, past times, and past generations; then think of the night, with its palpable blackness, the dead black shadows of the wooded hills, that eternal sound of fury, that ceaseless boom of the cataracts, the indefinite forms born of nervousness and fearfulness, that misery engendered by loneliness and creeping sense of abandonment; then will be understood something of the true position of these poor men. And what of us trudging up these wooded slopes to gain the crest of the forest uplands, to tramp on and on, whither we knew not, for how long a time we dared not think, seeking for food with the double responsibility weighing us down for these trustful, brave fellows with us, and for those, no less brave and trustful, whom we had left behind at the bottom of the horrible cañon! As I looked at the poor men struggling wearily onward it appeared to me as though a few hours only were needed to ensure our fate. One day, perhaps two days, and then life would ebb away. How their eyes searched the wild woods for the red berries of the phrynia, and the tartish, crimson, and oblong fruit of the amoma! How they rushed for the flat beans of the forest, and gloated over their treasures of fungi! In short, nothing was rejected in this severe distress to which we were reduced except leaves and wood. We passed several abandoned clearings; and some men chopped down pieces of banana stalk, then searched for wild herbs to make potage, the bastard jack fruit, or the _fenessi_, and other huge fruit became dear objects of interest as we straggled on. "Return we could not, nor Continue where we were; to shift our place Was to exchange one misery with another. And every day that came, came to decay A day's work in us. On the 7th of October we began at 6.30 A.M. to commence that funereal pace through the trackless region on the crest of the forest uplands. We picked up fungi, and the _matonga_ wild fruit, as we travelled, and after seven hours' march we rested for the day. At 11 A.M. we had halted for lunch at the usual hour. Each officer had economised his rations of bananas. Two were the utmost that I could spare for myself. My comrades were also as rigidly strict and close in their diet, and a cup of sugarless tea closed the repast. We were sitting conversing about our prospects, discussing the probabilities of our couriers reaching some settlement on this day, or the next, and the time that it would take them to return, and they desired to know whether in my previous African experiences I had encountered anything so grievous as this. "No; not quite so bad as this," I replied. "We have suffered; but not to such an extremity. Those nine days on the way into Ituru were wretched. On our flight from Bumbiré we certainly suffered much hunger, and also while floating down the Congo to trace its course our condition was much to be pitied; but we had a little of something, and at least large hope. The age of miracles is past, it is said, but why should they be? Moses drew water from the rock at Horeb for the thirsty Israelites. Of water we have enough and to spare. Elijah was fed by ravens at the brook Cherith, but there is not a raven in all this forest. Christ was ministered unto by angels. I wonder if any one will minister unto us?" Just then there was a sound as of a large bird whirring through the air. Little Randy, my fox-terrier, lifted up a foot and gazed inquiringly; we turned our heads to see, and that second the bird dropped beneath the jaws of Randy, who snapped at the prize and held it fast, in a vice as of iron. "There, boys," I said, "truly the gods are gracious. The age of miracles is not past," and my comrades were seen gazing in delighted surprise at the bird, which was a fine fat guinea fowl. It was not long before the guinea fowl was divided, and Randy, its captor, had his lawful share, and the little doggie seemed to know that he had grown in esteem with all men, and we enjoyed our prize each with his own feelings. On the next day, in order to relieve the boat-bearers of their hard work, Mr. Jephson was requested to connect the sections together, and two hours after starting on the march came opposite an inhabited island. The advance scouts seized a canoe and bore straight on to the island, to snatch in the same unruly manner as Orlando, meat for the hungry. "What would you, unruly men?" "We would have meat! Two hundred stagger in these woods and reel with faintness." [Illustration: RANDY SEIZES THE GUINEA FOWL.] The natives did not stand for further question, but vanished kindly, and left their treasures of food. We received as our share two pounds of Indian corn and half-a-pound of beans. Altogether about twenty-five pounds of corn were discovered, which was distributed among the people. In the afternoon I received a note from Mr. Jephson, who was behind with the boat: "For God's sake, if you can get any food at the village send us some." We despatched answer to Jephson to hunt up the wounded elephant that I had shot, and which had taken refuge on an island near him, and in reply to his anxious letter, a small handful of corn. On the 9th of October 100 men volunteered to go across river and explore inland from the north bank with a resolute intention not to return without food of some kind. I went up river with the boat's crew, and Stairs down river to strike inland by a little track in the hope that it might lead to some village; those who were too dispirited to go far wandered southward through the woods to search for wild fruit and forest beans. This last article was about four times the size of a large garden bean, encased in a brown leathery rind. At first we had contented ourselves with merely skinning it and boiling it, but this produced sickness of the stomach. An old woman captured on the island was seen to prepare a dish of these beans by skinning them and afterwards cleaning the inner covering, and finally scraping them as we would nutmegs. Out of this floury substance she made some patties for her captor, who shouted in ecstasies that they were good. Whereupon everybody bestirred themselves to collect the beans, which were fairly plentiful. Tempted by a "lady finger" cake of this article that was brought to me, I ventured to try it, and found it sufficiently filling, and about as palatable as a mess of acorns. Indeed, the flavour strongly reminded me of the acorn. The fungi were of several varieties, some pure and perfect mushrooms, others were of a less harmless kind; but surely the gods protected the miserable human beings condemned to live on such things. Grubs were collected, also slugs from the trees, caterpillars, and white ants--these served for meat. The _mabengu_ (nux vomica) furnished the dessert, with _fenessi_ or a species of bastard jack fruit. The following day some of the foragers from across the river returned bringing nothing. They had discovered such emptiness on the north bank as we had found on the south bank; but "Inshallah!" they said, "we shall find food either to-morrow or the next day." In the morning I had eaten my last grain of Indian corn, and my last portion of everything solid that was obtainable, and at noon the horrid pains of the stomach had to be satisfied with something. Some potato leaves brought me by Wadi Khamis, a headman, were bruised fine and cooked. They were not bad, still the stomach ached from utter depletion. Then a Zanzibari, with his face aglow with honest pride, brought me a dozen fruit of the size and colour of prize pear, which emitted a most pleasant fruity odour. He warranted them to be lovely, and declared that the men enjoyed them, but the finest had been picked out for myself and officers. He had also brought a pattie made out of the wood-bean flour which had a rich custardy look about it. With many thanks I accepted this novel repast, and I felt a grateful sense of fulness. In an hour, however, a nausea attacked me, and I was forced to seek my bed. The temples presently felt as if constricted by an iron band, the eyes blinked strangely, and a magnifying glass did not enable me to read the figures of Norie's Epitome. My servant, with the rashness of youth, had lunched bravely on what I had shared with him of the sweetly-smelling pear-like fruit, and consequently suffered more severely. Had he been in a little cockle boat on a mad channel sea he could scarcely have presented a more flabby and disordered aspect than had been caused by the forest pears. Just at sunset the foragers of No. 1 Company, after an absence of thirty-six hours, appeared from the N. bank, bringing sufficient plantains to save the Europeans from despair and starvation; but the men received only two plantains each, equal to four ounces of solid stuff, to put into stomachs that would have required eight pounds to satisfy. The officers Stairs, Jephson, and Parke, had been amusing themselves the entire afternoon in drawing fanciful menus, where such things figured as:-- Filet de boeuf en Chartreuse. Petites bouchées aux huîtres de Ostende. Bécassines rôties à la Londres. Another had shown his Anglo-Saxon proclivities for solids such as:-- Ham and eggs and plenty of them, Roast beef and potatoes unlimited, A weighty plum pudding. There were two of the foragers missing, but we could not wait for them. We moved from this starvation camp to one higher up, a distance of eleven miles. A man of No. 3 Company dropped his box of ammunition into a deep affluent and lost it. Kajeli stole a box of Winchester ammunition and absconded. Salim stole a case containing Emin Pasha's new boots and two pairs of mine, and deserted. Wadi Adam vanished with Surgeon Parke's entire kit. Swadi, of No. 1 Company, left his box on the road, and departed himself to parts unknown. Bull-necked Uchungu followed suit with a box of Remington cartridges. On the 12th of October we marched four-and-a-half miles, E. by S. The boat and crew were far below, struggling in rapids. We wished now to cross the river to try our fortune on the N. bank. We searched for a canoe, and saw one on the other side, but the river was 400 yards wide, and the current was too strong against the best swimmers in their present state of debility. Some scouts presently discovered a canoe fastened to an island only forty yards from the south bank, which was situate a little above our halting place. Three men volunteered, among whom was Wadi Asman, of the Pioneers, a grave man, faithful, and of much experience in many African lands. Twenty dollars reward was to be the prize of success. Asman lacked the audacity of Uledi, the coxswain of the "advance," as well as his bold high spirit, but was a most prudent and valuable man. These three men chose a small rapid for their venture, that they might obtain a footing now and then on the rocks. At dusk two of them returned to grieve us with the news that Asman had tried to swim with his Winchester on his back, and had been swept by the strong current into a whirlpool, and was drowned. We were unfortunate in every respect; our chiefs had not yet returned, we were fearing for their fate, strong men deserted. Our rifles were rapidly decreasing in number. Our ammunition was being stolen. Feruzi, the next best man to Uledi as a sailor, soldier, carrier, good man and true, was dying from a wound inflicted on the head by a savage's knife. The following day was also a halt. We were about to cross the river, and we were anxious for our six chiefs, one of whom was Rashid bin Omar, the "father of the people," as he was called. Equipped with only their rifles, accoutrements and sufficient ammunition, such men ought to have travelled in the week that had elapsed since our departure from Nelson's camp over a hundred miles. If they, during that distance, could not discover the Manyuema settlement, what chance had we, burdened with loads, with a caravan of hungry and despairing men, who for a week had fed on nothing but two plantains, berries, wild fruit, and fungi? Our men had begun to suffer dearly during this protracted starvation. Three had died the day before. Towards evening Jephson appeared with the boat, and brought a supply of Indian corn, which sufficed to give twelve cupfuls to each white. It was a reprieve from death for the Europeans. The next day, the 15th, having blazed trees around the camp, and drawn broad arrows with charcoal for the guidance of the head men when they should return, the Expedition crossed over to the north bank and camped on the upper side of a range of hills. Feruzi Ali died of his wound soon after. Our men were in such a desperately weak state, that I had not the heart to command the boat to be disconnected for transport, as had a world's treasure been spread out before them, they could not have exhibited greater power than they were willing to give at a word. I stated the case fairly to them thus:-- "You see, my men, our condition in brief is this. We started from Yambuya 389 in number and took 237 loads with us. We had 80 extra carriers to provide for those who by the way might become weak and ailing. We left 56 men at Ugarrowwa's Settlement, and 52 with Captain Nelson. We should have 271 left, but instead of that number we have only 200 to-day, including the chiefs who are absent. Seventy-one have either died, been killed, or deserted. But there are only 150 of you fit to carry anything, and therefore we cannot carry this boat any further. I say, let us sink her here by the riverside, and let us press on to get food for ourselves and those with Captain Nelson, who are wondering what has become of us, before we all die in these woods. You are the carriers of the boat--not we, Do you speak, what shall be done unto her?" Many suggestions were made by the officers and men, but Uledi of 'Through the Dark Continent,' always Uledi--the ever faithful Uledi, spoke straight to the purpose. "Sir, my advice is this. You go on with the caravan and search for the Manyuema, and I and my crew will work at these rapids, and pole, row, or drag her on as we can. After I have gone two days up, if I do not see signs of the Manyuema I will send men after you to keep touch with you. We cannot lose you, for a blind man could follow such a track as the caravan makes." This suggestion was agreed by all to be the best, and it was arranged that our rule of conduct should be as Uledi sketched out. We separated at 10 A.M., and in a short time I had my first experience among the loftier hills of the Aruwimi valley. I led the caravan northward through the trackless forest, sheering a little to the north east to gain a spur, and using animal tracks when they served us. Progress was very slow, the undergrowth was dense; berries of the phrynium and fruit of the Amomum _fenessi_ and nux vomica, besides the large wood beans and fungi of all sorts, were numerous, and each man gathered a plentiful harvest. Unaccustomed to hills for years, our hearts palpitated violently as we breasted the steep-wooded slopes, and cut arid slashed at the obstructing creepers, bush and plants. Ah, it was a sad night, unutterably sad, to see so many men struggling on blindly through that endless forest, following one white man who was bound whither none knew, whom most believed did not know himself. They were in a veritable hell of hunger already! What nameless horrors awaited them further on none could conjecture? But what matter, death comes to every man soon or late! Therefore we pushed on and on, broke through the bush, trampled down the plants, wound along the crest of spurs zigzagging from north-east to north-west, and descending to a bowl-like valley by a clear stream, lunched on our corn and berries. During our mid-day halt, one Umari having seen some magnificent and ripe _fenessi_ at the top of a tree thirty feet high, essayed to climb it, but on gaining that height, a branch or his strength yielded and he tumbled headlong upon the heads of two other men who were waiting to seize the fruit. Strange to say, none of them were very seriously injured. Umari was a little lame in the hip and one of those upon whom he fell complained of a pain in the chest. At 3.30 after a terrible struggle through a suffocating wilderness of arums, amoma, and bush, we came to a dark amphitheatral glen and at the bottom found a camp just deserted by the natives, and in such hot haste that they had thought it best not to burden themselves with their treasures. Surely some divinity provided for us always in the most stressful hours. Two bushels of Indian corn, and a bushel of beans awaited us in this camp. My poor donkey from Zanzibar showed symptoms of surrender. Arums and amoma every day since June 28th were no fit food for a dainty Zanzibar ass, therefore to end his misery I shot him. The meat was as carefully shared as though it were the finest venison, for a wild and famished mob threatened to defy discipline. When the meat was fairly served a free fight took place over the skin, the bones were taken up and crushed, the hoofs were boiled for hours, there was nothing left of my faithful animal but the spilled blood and hair; a pack of hyænas could not have made a more thorough disposal of it. That constituent of the human being which marks him as superior to all others of the animal creation was so deadened by hunger that our men had become merely carnivorous bipeds, inclined to be as ferocious as any beast of prey. On the 16th we crossed through four deep gorges one after another, through wonderful growths of phrynia. The trees frequently bore _fenessi_ nearly ripe, one foot long and eight inches in diameter. Some of this fruit was equal to pineapple, it was certainly wholesome. Even the rotten fruit was not rejected. When the _fenessi_ were absent, the wood-bean tree flourished and kindly sprinkled the ground with its fruit. Nature seemed to confess that the wanderers had borne enough of pain and grief. The deepest solitudes showed increasing tenderness for the weary and long-suffering. The phrynia gave us their brightest red berries, the amoma furnished us with the finest and ripest scarlet fruit, the _fenessi_ were in a state of perfection, the wood-beans were larger and fatter, the streams of the wood glens were clear and cold; no enemy was in sight, nothing was to be feared but hunger, and nature did its best with her unknown treasures, shaded us with her fragrant and loving shades, and whispered to us unspeakable things sweetly and tenderly. During the mid-day halt the men discussed our prospects. They said, with solemn shaking of their heads, "Know you that such and such a man is dead? that the other is lost! another will probably fall this afternoon! the rest will perish to-morrow!" The trumpet summoned all to their feet, to march on, and strive, and press forward to the goal. Half-an-hour later the pioneers broke through a growth of amoma, and stepped on a road. And lo! on every tree we saw the peculiar "blaze" of the Manyuema, a discovery that was transmitted by every voice from the head to the rear of the column, and was received with jubilant cheers. "Which way, sir?" asked the delighted pioneers. "Right turn of course," I replied, feeling far more glad than any, and fuller of longings for the settlement that was to end this terrible period, and shorten the misery of Nelson and his dark followers. "Please God," they said, "to-morrow or the next day we shall have food," which meant that after suffering unappeasable hunger for 336 hours, they could patiently wait if it pleased God another thirty-six or sixty hours more. We were all frightfully thin, the whites not so much reduced as our coloured men. We thought of the future and abounded with hope, though deep depression followed any inspection of the people. We regretted that our followers did not have greater faith in us. Hunger followed by despair killed many. Many freely expressed their thoughts and declared to one another plainly that we knew not whither we were marching. And they were not far wrong, for who knew what a day might bring forth in unexplored depths of woods. But as they said, it was their fate to follow us, and therefore they followed fate. They had fared badly and had suffered greatly. It is hard to walk at all when weakness sets in through emptiness; it is still worse to do so when burdened with sixty pounds weight. Over fifty were yet in fair condition; 150 were skeletons covered with ashy grey skins, jaded and worn out, with every sign of wretchedness printed deep in their eyes, in their bodies and movements. These could hardly do more than creep on and moan, and shed tears and sigh. My only dog "Randy," alas! how feeble he had become! Meat he had not tasted--except with me of the ass's meat--for weeks. Parched corn and beans were not fit for a terrier, and _fenessi_ and _mabengu_, and such other acid fruit he disdained, and so he declined, until he became as gaunt as the pariah of a Moslem. Stairs had never failed me. Jephson every now and then had been fortunate in discoveries of grain treasures, and always showed an indomitable front, and Parke was ever striving, patient, cheerful and gentle. Deep, deep down to undiscovered depths our life in the forest had enabled me to penetrate human nature with all its endurance and virtues. Along the track of the Manyuema it was easy to travel. Sometimes we came to a maze of roads; but once the general direction was found, there was no difficulty to point to the right one. It appeared to be well travelled, and it was clearer every mile that we were approaching a populous settlement. As recent tracks became more numerous, the bush seemed more broken into, with many a halt and many wayward strayings. Here and there trees had been lopped of their branches. Cording vines lay frequently on the track; pads for native carriers had often been dropped in haste. Most of the morning was expended in crossing a score of lazy, oozy rillets, which caused large breadths of slime-covered swamp. Wasps attacked the column at one crossing, and stung a man into high fever, and being in such an emaciated condition there was little chance of his recovery. After a march of seven miles south-eastwardly we halted on the afternoon of the 17th. The night was ushered by a tempest which threatened to uproot the forest and bear it to the distant west, accompanied by floods of rain, and a severe cold temperature. Nevertheless, fear of famishing drove us to begin the march at an early hour on the following day. In about an hour, and-a-half we stood on the confines of a large clearing, but the fog was so dense that we could discern nothing further than 200 feet in front. Resting awhile to debate upon our course, we heard a sonorous voice singing in a language none of us knew, and a lusty hail and an argument with what appeared to be some humour. As this was not a land where aborigines would dare to be so light-hearted and frivolous, this singing we believed could proceed from no other people than those who knew they had nothing to fear. I fired a Winchester rapidly in the air. The response by heavy-loaded muskets revealed that these were the Manyuema whom we had been so long seeking, and scarcely had their echoes ceased their reverberations than the caravan relieved its joy by long continued hurrahs. [Illustration: KILONGA LONGA'S STATION.] We descended the slope of the clearing to a little valley, and from all sides of an opposite slope were seen lines of men and women issuing to welcome us with friendly hails. We looked to the right and left and saw thriving fields, Indian corn, rice, sweet potatoes and beans. The well-known sounds of Arab greeting and hospitable tenders of friendship burst upon our ears; and our hands were soon clasped by lusty huge fellows, who seemed to enjoy life in the wilds as much as they could have enjoyed it in their own lands. These came principally from Manyuema, though their no less stout slaves, armed with percussion muskets and carbine, echoed heartily their superiors' sentiments and professions. We were conducted up the sloping clearing through fields of luxuriant grain, by troops of men and youngsters who were irrepressibly frolicsome in their joy at the new arrivals and dawning promise of a holiday. On arrival at the village we were invited to take our seats in deep shady verandahs where we soon had to answer to hosts of questions and congratulations. As the caravan filed past us to its allotted quarters which men were appointed to show, numerous were the praises to God, uttered by them for our marvellous escapes from the terrible wilderness that stretched from their settlement of Ipoto to the Basopo Cataract, a distance of 197 miles, praises in which in our inmost hearts each one of our sorely tried caravan most heartily joined. CHAPTER X. WITH THE MANYUEMA AT IPOTO. The ivory hunters at Ipoto--Their mode of proceeding--The Manyuema headmen and their raids--Remedy for preventing wholesale devastations--Crusade preached by Cardinal Lavigerie--Our Zanzibar chiefs--Anxiety respecting Captain Nelson and his followers--Our men sell their weapons for food--Theft of Rifles--Their return demanded--Uledi turns up with news of the missing chiefs--Contract drawn up with the Manyuema headmen for the relief of Captain Nelson--Jephson's report on his journey--Reports of Captain Nelson and Surgeon Parke--The process of blood brotherhood between myself and Ismaili--We leave Ipoto. This community of ivory hunters established at Ipoto had arrived, five months previous to our coming, from the banks of the Lualaba, from a point situated between the exits of the Lowwa and the Leopold into the great river. The journey had occupied them seven-and-a-half months, and they had seen neither grass nor open country, nor even heard of them during their wanderings. They had halted a month at Kinnena on the Lindi, and had built a station-house for their Chief Kilonga-Longa, who, when he had joined them with the main body, sent on about 200 guns and 200 slave carriers to strike further in a north-easterly direction, to discover some other prosperous settlement far in advance of him, whence they could sally out in bands to destroy, burn and enslave natives in exchange for ivory. Through continual fighting, and the carelessness which the unbalanced mind is so apt to fall into after one or more happy successes, they had decreased in number within seven-and-a-half months into a force of about ninety guns. On reaching the Lenda River they had heard of the settlements of Ugarrowwa, and sheered off the limits of his raiding circle to obtain a centre of their own, and, crossing the Lenda, they succeeded in reaching the south bank of the Ituri, about south of their present settlement at Ipoto. As the natives would not assist them over the river to the north bank, they cut down a big tree and with axe and fire hollowed it into a sizeable canoe which conveyed them across to the north bank to Ipoto. Since that date they had launched out on one of the most sanguinary and destructive careers to which even Tippu-Tib's or Tagamoyo's career offer but poor comparison. Towards the Lenda and Ihuru Rivers, they had levelled into black ashes every settlement, their rage for destruction had even been vented on the plantain groves, every canoe on the rivers had been split into pieces, every island had been searched, and into the darkest recesses, whither a slight track could be traced, they had penetrated with only one dominating passion, which was to kill as many of the men and capture as many of the women and children as craft and cruelty would enable them. However far northward or eastward these people had reached, one said nine days' march, another fifteen days; or wherever they had gone they had done precisely as we had seen between the Lenda River and Ipoto, and reduced the forest land into a howling wilderness, and throughout all the immense area had left scarcely a hut standing. What these destroyers had left of groves and plantations of plantain and bananas, manioc, and corn-fields, the elephant, chimpanzee, and monkeys had trampled and crushed into decaying and putrid muck, and in their places had sprung up, with the swiftness of mushrooms, whole hosts of large-leafed plants native to the soil, briars, calamus and bush, which the natives had in times past suppressed with their knives, axes and hoes. With each season the bush grew more robust and taller, and a few seasons only were wanted to cover all traces of former habitation and labour. From Ipoto to the Lenda the distance by our track is 105 miles. Assume that this is the distance eastward to which their ravages have extended, and northward and southward, and we have something like 44,000 square miles. We know what Ugarrowwa has done from the preceding pages, what he was still doing with all the vigour of his mind, and we know what the Arabs in the Stanley Falls are doing on the Lumami and what sort of devil's work Mumi Muhala, and Bwana Mohamed are perpetrating around Lake Ozo, the source of the Lulu, and, once we know where their centres are located, we may with a pair of compasses draw great circles round each, and park off areas of 40,000 and 50,000 square miles into which half-a-dozen resolute men, aided by their hundreds of bandits, have divided about three-fourths of the Great Upper Congo Forest for the sole purpose of murder, and becoming heirs to a few hundred tusks of ivory. At the date of our arrival at Ipoto, there were the Manyuema headmen, physically fine stalwart fellows, named Ismailia, Khamisi, and Sangarameni, who were responsible to Kilonga-Longa, their chief, for the followers and operations entrusted to their charge. At alternate periods each set out from Ipoto to his own special sub-district. Thus, to Ismailia, all roads from Ipoto to Ibwiri and east to the Ituri were given as his special charge. Khamisi's area was along the line of the Ihuru, then east to Ibwiri, to Sangarameni all the land east and west between the Ibina and Ihuru affluents of the Ituri. Altogether there were 150 fighting men, but only about 90 were armed with guns. Kilonga-Longa was still at Kinnena, and was not expected for three months yet. The fighting men under the three leaders consisted of Bakusu, Balegga, and Basongora, youths who were trained by the Manyuema as raiders in the forest region, in the same manner as in 1876, Manyuema youths had been trained by Arabs and Waswahili of the east coast. We see in this extraordinary increase in number of raiders in the Upper Congo basin the fruits of the Arab policy of killing off the adult aborigines and preserving the children. The girls are distributed among the Arab, Swahili and Manyuema harems, the boys are trained to carry arms and are exercised in the use of them. When they are grown tall and strong enough they are rewarded with wives from the female servants of the harem, and then are admitted partners in these bloody ventures. So many parts of the profits are due to the great proprietor, such as Tippu-Tib, or Said bin Abed, a less number becomes the due of the headmen, and the remainder becomes the property of the bandits. At other times large ivories, over 35 lbs. each, become the property of the proprietor, all over 20 lbs. to 35 lbs. belong to the headmen, scraps, pieces and young ivory are permitted to be kept by the lucky finders. Hence every member of the caravan is inspired to do his best. The caravan is well armed and well manned by the proprietor, who stays at home on the Congo or Lualaba river indulging in rice and pilaf and the excesses of his harem, the headmen, inspired by greed and cupidity, become ferocious and stern, the bandits fling themselves upon a settlement without mercy to obtain the largest share of loot, of children, flocks, poultry, and ivory. All this would be clearly beyond their power if they possessed no gunpowder. Not a mile beyond their settlements would the Arabs and their followers dare venture. It is more than likely that if gunpowder was prohibited entry into Africa there would be a general and quick migration to the sea of all Arabs from inner Africa, as the native Chiefs would be immeasurably stronger than any combination of Arabs armed with spears. What possible chance could Tippu-Tib, Abed bin Salim, Ugarrowwa and Kilonga-Longa have against the Basongora and Bakusu? How could the Arabs of Ujiji resist the Wajiji and Warundi, or how could those of Unyamyembé live among the bowmen and spearmen of Unyamwezi? There is only one remedy for these wholesale devastations of African aborigines, and that is the solemn combination of England, Germany, France, Portugal, South and East Africa, and Congo State against the introduction of gunpowder into any part of the Continent except for the use of their own agents, soldiers, employés, or seizing upon every tusk of ivory brought out, as there is not a single piece nowadays which has been gained lawfully. Every tusk, piece and scrap in the possession of an Arab trader has been steeped and dyed in blood. Every pound weight has cost the life of a man, woman or child, for every five pounds a hut has been burned, for every two tusks a whole village has been destroyed, every twenty tusks have been obtained at the price of a district with all its people, villages and plantations. It is simply incredible that, because ivory is required for ornaments or billiard games, the rich heart of Africa should be laid waste at this late year of the nineteenth century, signalized as it has been by so much advance, that populations, tribes and nations should be utterly destroyed. Whom after all does this bloody seizure of ivory enrich? Only a few dozens of half-castes, Arab and Negro, who, if due justice were dealt to them, should be made to sweat out the remainder of their piratical lives in the severest penal servitude. On arriving in civilization after these terrible discoveries, I was told of a crusade that had been preached by Cardinal Lavigerie, and of a rising desire in Europe to effect by force of arms in the old crusader style and to attack the Arabs and their followers in their strongholds in Central Africa. It is just such a scheme as might have been expected from men who applauded Gordon when he set out with a white wand and six followers to rescue all the garrisons of the Soudan, a task which 14,000 of his countrymen, under one of the most skilful English generals, would have found impossible at that date. We pride ourselves upon being practical and sensible men, and yet every now and then let some enthusiast--whether Gladstone, Gordon, Lavigerie or another--speak, and a wave of Quixotism spreads over many lands. The last thing I heard in connection with this mad project is that a band of 100 Swedes, who have subscribed £25 each, are about to sail to some part of the East Coast of Africa, and proceed to Tanganika to commence ostensibly the extirpation of the Arab slave-trader, but in reality to commit suicide. However, these matters are not the object of this chapter. We are about to have a more intimate acquaintance with the morals of the Manyuema, and to understand them better than we ever expected we should. They had not heard a word or a whisper of our Headmen whom we had despatched as couriers to obtain relief for Nelson's party, and, as it was scarcely possible that a starving caravan would accomplish the distance between Nelson's Camp and Ipoto before six active and intelligent men, we began to fear that among the lost men we should have to number our Zanzibari chiefs. Their track was clear as far as the crossing-place of the 14th and 15th December. It was most probable that the witless men would continue up the river until they were overpowered by the savages of some unknown village. Our minds were never free from anxiety respecting Capt. Nelson and his followers. Thirteen days had already elapsed since our parting. During this period their position was not worse than ours had been. The forest was around them as it was around us. They were not loaded down as we were. The most active men could search about for food, or they could employ their canoes to ferry themselves over to the scene of the forage of the 3rd December, one day's journey by land, or an hour by water. Berries and fungi abounded on the crest of the hills above their camp as in other parts. Yet we were anxious, and one of my first duties was to try and engage a relief party to take food to Nelson's camp. I was promised that it should be arranged next day. For ourselves we received three goats and twelve baskets of Indian corn, which, when distributed, gave six ears of corn per man. It furnished us with two good meals, and many must have felt revived and refreshed, as I did. On the first day's halt at Ipoto we suffered considerable lassitude. Nature either furnishes a stomach and no food, or else furnishes a feast and robs us of all appetite. On the day before, and on this, we had fed sumptuously on rice and pilaf and goat stew, but now we began to suffer from many illnesses. The masticators had forgotten their office, and the digestive organs disdained the dainties, and affected to be deranged. Seriously, it was the natural result of over-eating; corn mush, grits, parched corn, beans and meat are solids requiring gastric juice, which, after being famished for so many days, was not in sufficient supply for the eager demand made for it. The Manyuema had about 300 or 400 acres under corn, five acres under rice, and as many under beans. Sugar-cane was also grown largely. They possessed about 100 goats--all stolen from the natives. In their store-huts they had immense supplies of Indian corn drawn from some village near the Ihuru, and as yet unshucked. Their banana plantations were well stocked with fruit. Indeed the condition of every one in the settlement was prime. It is but right to acknowledge that we were received on the first day with ostentatious kindness, but on the third day something of a strangeness sprang up between us. Their cordiality probably rose from a belief that our loads contained some desirable articles, but unfortunately the first-class beads that would have sufficed for the purchase of all their stock of corn were lost by the capsizing of a canoe near Panga Falls, and the gold braided Arab burnooses were stolen below Ugarrowwa, by deserters. Disappointed at not receiving the expected quantity of fine cloth or fine beads, they proceeded systematically to tempt our men to sell everything they possessed, shirts, caps, daoles, waist cloths, knives, belts, to which, being their personal property, we could make no objection. But the lucky owners of such articles having been seen by others less fortunate, hugely enjoying varieties of succulent food, were the means of inspiring the latter to envy and finally to theft. The unthrifty and reckless men sold their ammunition, accoutrements, bill hooks, ramrods, and finally their Remington Rifles. Thus, after escaping the terrible dangers of starvation and such injuries as the many savage tribes could inflict on us, we were in near peril of becoming slaves to the Arab slaves. Despite entreaties for corn, we could obtain no more than two ears per man per day. I promised to pay triple price for everything received, on the arrival of the rear column, but with these people a present possession is better than a prospective one. They professed to doubt that we had cloth, and to believe that we had travelled all this distance to fight them. We represented on the other hand that all we needed were six ears of corn per day during nine days' rest. Three rifles disappeared. The Headmen denied all knowledge of them. We were compelled to reflect that, if it were true, they suspected we entertained sinister intentions towards them, that surely the safest and craftiest policy would be to purchase our arms secretly, and disarm us altogether, when they could enforce what terms they pleased on us. On the 21st six more rifles were sold. At this rate the Expedition would be wrecked in a short time, for a body of men without arms in the heart of the great forest, with a host of men to the eastward and a large body to the westward depending upon them, were lost beyond hope of salvation. Both advance and retreat were equally cut off, and no resource would be left but absolute submission to the chief who chose to assert himself to be our master or Death. Therefore I proposed for my part to struggle strongly against such a fate, and either to provoke it instantly, or ward it off by prompt action. A muster was made, the five men without arms were sentenced to twenty-five lashes each and to be tied up. After a considerable fume and fuss had been exhibited, a man stepped up, as one was about to undergo punishment and begged permission to speak. "This man is innocent, sir." "I have his rifle in my hut, I seized it last night from Juma (one of the cooks), son of Forkali, as he brought it to a Manyuema to sell. It may be Juma stole it from this man. I know that all these men have pleaded that their rifles have been stolen by others, while they slept. It may be true as in this case." Meantime Juma had flown, but was found later on hiding in the corn fields. He confessed that he had stolen two, and had taken them to the informer to be disposed of for corn, or a goat, but it was solely at the instigation of the informer. It may have been true, for scarcely one of them but was quite capable of such a course, but the story was lame, and unreasonable in this case and was rejected. Another now came up and recognized Juma as the thief who had abstracted his rifle--and having proved his statement and confession having been made--the prisoner was sentenced to immediate execution, which was accordingly carried out by hanging. It now being proved beyond a doubt that the Manyuema were purchasing our rifles at the rate of a few ears of corn per gun, I sent for the head men, and make a formal demand for their instant restitution, otherwise they would be responsible for the consequences. They were inclined to be wrathy at first. They drove the Zanzibaris from the village out into the clearing, and there was every prospect of a fight, or as was very probable, that the Expedition was about to be wrecked. Our men, being so utterly demoralized, and utterly broken in spirit from what they had undergone, were not to be relied on, and as they were ready to sell themselves for corn--there was little chance of our winning a victory in case of a struggle. It requires fulness of stomach to be brave. At the same time death was sure to conclude us in any event, for to remain quiescent under such circumstances tended to produce an ultimate appeal to arms. With those eleven rifles, 3000 rounds of ammunition had been sold. No option presented itself to me than to be firm in my demand for the rifles; it was reiterated, under a threat that I would proceed to take other means--and as a proof of it they had but to look at the body hanging from a tree, for if we proceeded to such extremities as putting to death one of our own men, they certainly ought to know that we should feel ourselves perfectly prepared to take vengeance on those who had really caused his death by keeping open doors to receive stolen property. After an hour's storming in their village they brought five rifles to me, and to my astonishment pointed the sellers of them. Had it not been impolitic in the first place to drive things to the extreme, I should have declined receiving one of them back before all had been returned, and could I have been assured of the aid of fifty men I should have declared for a fight; but just at this juncture Uledi, the faithful coxswain of the _Advance_, strode into camp, bringing news that the boat was safe at the landing-place of Ipoto and of his discovery of the six missing chiefs in a starving and bewildered state four miles from the settlement. This produced a revulsion of feelings. Gratitude for the discovery of my lost men, the sight of Uledi--the knowledge that after all, despite the perverseness of human nature, I had some faithful fellows, left me for the time speechless. Then the tale was told to Uledi, and he undertook the business of eradicating the hostile feelings of the Manyuema, and pleaded with me to let bygones be bygones on the score that the dark days were ended, and happy days he was sure were in store for us. "For surely, dear master," he said, "after the longest night comes day, and why not sunshine after darkness with us? I think of how many long nights and dark days we pulled through in the old times when we pierced Africa together, and now let your heart be at peace. Please God we shall forget our troubles before long." The culprits were ordered to be bound until morning. Uledi, with his bold frank way, sailed straight into the affections of the Manyuema headmen. Presents of corn were brought to me, apologies were made and accepted. The corn was distributed among the people, and we ended this troublesome day, which had brought us all to the verge of dissolution, in much greater content than could have been hoped from its ominous commencement. Our long wandering chiefs who were sent as heralds of our approach to Ipoto arrived on Sunday the 23rd. They surely had made but a fruitless quest, and they found us old residents of the place they had been despatched to seek. Haggard, wan and feeble from seventeen days feeding on what the uninhabited wilderness afforded, they were also greatly abashed at their failure. They had reached the Ibina River which flows from the S.E., and struck it two days above the confluence with the Ituri; they had then followed the tributary down to the junction, had found a canoe and rowed across to the right bank, where they had nearly perished from hunger. Fortunately Uledi had discovered them in time, had informed them of the direction of Ipoto, and they had crawled as they best could to our camp. Before night, Sangarameni, the third head man, appeared from a raid with fifteen fine ivories. He said he had penetrated a twenty days' journey, and from a high hill had viewed an open country all grass land. Out of a supply I obtained on this day I was able to give two ears of corn per man, and to store a couple of baskets for Nelson's party. But events were not progressing smoothly, I could obtain no favourable answer to my entreaty for a relief party. One of our men had been speared to death by the Manyuema on a charge of stealing corn from the fields. One had been hanged, twenty had been flogged for stealing ammunition, another had received 200 cuts from the Manyuema for attempting to steal. If only the men could have reasoned sensibly during these days, how quickly matters could have been settled otherwise! I had spoken and warned them with all earnestness to "endure, and cheer up," and that there were two ways of settling all this, but that I was afraid of them only, for they preferred the refuse of the Manyuema to our wages and work. The Manyuema were proving to them what they might expect of them; and with us the worst days were over; all we had to do was to march beyond the utmost reach of the Manyuema raids, when we should all become as robust as they. Bah! I might as well have addressed my appeals to the trees of the forest as unto wretches so sodden with despair. The Manyuema had promised me three several times by this day to send eighty men as a relief party to Nelson's camp, but the arrival of Sangarameni, and misunderstandings, and other trifles, had disturbed the arrangements. On the 24th firing was heard on the other side of the river, and, under the plea that it indicated the arrival of Kilonga-Longa, the relief caravan was again prevented from setting out. The next day, those who had fired, arrived in camp, and proved to be the Manyuema knaves whom we had seen on the 2nd of October. Out of fifteen men they had lost one man from an arrow wound. They had wandered for twenty-four days to find the track, but having no other loads than provisions these had lasted with economy for fifteen days, but for the last nine days they had subsisted on mushrooms and wild fruit. On this evening I succeeded in drawing a contract, and getting the three headmen to agree to the following:-- "To send thirty men to the relief of Captain Nelson, with 400 ears of corn for his party. "To provide Captain Nelson and Surgeon Parke, and all sick men unable to work in the fields, with provisions, until our return from Lake Albert. "The service of a guide from Ipoto to Ibwiri, for which they were to be paid one bale and a half of cloth on the arrival of the rear column." It was drawn up in Arabic by Rashid, and in English by myself, and witnessed by three men. For some fancy articles of personal property I succeeded in purchasing for Mr. Jephson and Capt. Nelson 250 ears of Indian corn, and for 250 pistol cartridges I bought another quantity, and for an ivory-framed mirror from a dressing-case purchased two baskets full; for three bottles of ottar of roses obtained three fowls, so that I had 1000 ears of corn for the relieving and relieved parties. On the 26th Mr. Mounteney Jephson, forty Zanzibaris, and thirty Manyuema slaves started on their journey to Nelson's camp. I cannot do better than introduce Mr. Jephson's report on his journey. "Arab Settlement at Ipoto, "_November 4th, 1887_. "Dear Sir, "I left at midday on October 26th, and arrived at the river and crossed over with 30 Manyuema and 40 Zanzibaris under my charge the same afternoon and camped on landing. The next morning we started off early and reached the camp, where we had crossed the river, when we were wandering about in a starving condition in search of the Arabs, by midday the signs and arrow heads we had marked on the trees to show the chiefs we had crossed were still fresh. I reached another of our camps that night. The next day we did nearly three of our former marches. The camp where Feruzi Ali had got his death wound, and where we had spent three such miserable days of hunger and anxiety, looked very dismal as we passed through it. During the day we passed the skeletons of three of our men who had fallen down and died from sheer starvation, they were grim reminders of the misery through which we had so lately gone. "On the morning of the 29th I started off as soon as it was daylight, determining to reach Nelson that day and decide the question as to his being yet alive. Accompanied by one man only, I soon found myself far ahead of my followers. As I neared Nelson's camp a feverish anxiety to know his fate possessed me, and I pushed on through streams and creeks, by banks and bogs, over which our starving people had slowly toiled with the boat sections. All were passed by quickly to-day, and again the skeletons in the road testified to the trials through which we had passed. As I came down the hill into Nelson's camp, not a sound was heard but the groans of two dying men in a hut close by, the whole place had a deserted and woe-begone look. I came quietly round the tent and found Nelson sitting there; we clasped hands, and then, poor fellow! he turned away and sobbed, and muttered something about being very weak. "Nelson was greatly changed in appearance, being worn and haggard looking, with deep lines about his eyes and mouth. He told me his anxiety had been intense, as day after day passed and no relief came; he had at last made up his mind that something had happened to us, and that we had been compelled to abandon him. He had lived chiefly upon fruits and fungus which his two boys had brought in from day to day. Of the fifty-two men you left with him, only five remained, of whom two were in a dying state. All the rest had either deserted him or were dead. "He has himself given you an account of his losses from death and desertion. I gave him the food you sent him, which I had carefully watched on the way, and he had one of the chickens and some porridge cooked at once, it was the first nourishing food he had tasted for many days. After I had been there a couple of hours my people came in and all crowded round the tent to offer him their congratulations. "You remember Nelson's feet had been very bad for some days before we left him, he had hardly left the tent the whole time he had been here. At one time he had had ten ulcers on one foot, but he had now recovered from them in a great measure and said he thought he would be able to march slowly. On the 30th we began the return march. I gave out most of the loads to the Manyuema and Zanzibaris, but was obliged to leave thirteen boxes of ammunition and seven other loads, these I buried, and Parke will be able to fetch them later on. "Nelson did the marches better than I expected, though he was much knocked up at the end of each day. On the return march we crossed the river lower down and made our way up the right bank and struck your old road a day's march from the Arab camp. Here again we passed more skeletons, at one place there were three within 200 yards of each other. "On the fifth day, that is November 3rd, we reached the Arab camp, and Nelson's relief was accomplished. He has already picked up wonderfully in spite of the marching, but he cannot get sleep at night and is still in a nervous and highly strung state; the rest in the Arab camp will, I trust, set him up again. It is certain that in his state of health he could not have followed us in our wanderings in search of food, he must have fallen by the way. "I am &c., &c. "(Signed) A. J. Mounteney Jephson." The following are the reports of Captain Nelson and Surgeon Parke. "Arab Village, Ipoto, "_6th November, 1887_, "Dear Sir, "Mr. Jephson arrived at my camp on the 29th October with the men for the loads and with the food you sent for me. Many thanks for the food, it was badly needed. He will tell you what state he found me in and of the few men still alive. "You left me on the 6th October last; on the morning of the 9th I got up a canoe and sent Umari and thirteen of the best men I could find (they were all very bad) over the river to look for food. On the 8th Assani (No. 1 Company) came to me and said that he had returned from the column sick. Same day Uledi's brother came into camp, told me he had lost the road while looking for bananas, near the camp, where we met the Manyuema. On the 10th I found that Juma, one of Stairs' chiefs, had cleared in the night with ten men, and stolen a canoe and gone down river. On the 11th I counted the men and could only find seventeen (I had fifty-two the first day); the rest had gone away either after the column or down river. On the 14th one man died. Umari returned with very few bananas, about enough for two days; however, they were very welcome, as I had nothing but herbs and fungi to eat up to this time. On the 15th another man died, and I found that Saadi (No. 1.) with some other men had come into camp in the night and stolen the canoe (Umari had re-crossed the river in) and gone down river. On the 17th Umari went away with twenty-one men to look for food; 19th, man died; 22nd, two men died; 23rd, man died; 29th, two men died; Jephson arrived; 30th, one man died; we left camp on way here. Umari had not returned; he, however, if alive, will come on here, I feel sure, but how many men with him I cannot tell, perhaps five or six may reach here with him. With the exception of the few bananas I got from Umari I lived entirely on herbs, fungi, and a few mabengu. I had ten ulcers on my left leg and foot and so was unable to look for food myself and was kept alive entirely by my two boys and little Baruk, one of my company, and Abdalla, a man Stairs left with me. I was very weak when Jephson arrived. Now, however, I feel a little better. We arrived at the village on the 3rd November, the chief Ismail brought me the day I came a very small quantity of coarse meal and two small dried fish, about enough for one meal. "Yesterday, no food having come for two days, we sent for it, and after a good deal of trouble Ismail sent us a little meal. At present I am living on my clothes; we get hardly anything from the Chief. To-day Dr. Parke and I went to the Chief, with Hamis Pari as interpreter, and talked to him about food. He told us that _no arrangement had been made by you_ for _my_ food, and that he was feeding the Doctor and me entirely from his own generosity, and he refused to feed our boys, three in number (fewer we cannot possibly do with), as you never told him to do so. "I have the honour to be, &c., &c." "R. H. Nelson." "Arab Camp, Ipoto, "_November 6th, 1887_. "My dear Mr. Stanley, "Captain Nelson and Mr. Jephson arrived here on the 3rd inst. a few of the Zanzibaris and Manyuema men getting in with their loads the previous day. Of all those men left at Nelson's camp, only five have arrived here, the remaining live ones were away on a foraging tour with Umari, when the relief party arrived. It is very likely that some of them may find their way here; if so, I shall get Ismaili to allow them to work for their food. Nelson staggered into camp greatly changed in appearance, a complete wreck after the march, his features shrunken and pinched, and a frame reduced to half its former size. I have done the best I could for him medically, but good nourishing food is what he requires to restore him to his health; and I regret to say that my experience here and the conversation which we had to-day with Ismaili goes to show that we shall have to exist on scanty fare. Since you left, I have had some flour and corn from the chiefs, but this was generally after sending for it several times. By a lucky accident I got a goat, most of which I distributed amongst the sick men here, for I am informed by Ismaili, through H. Pari, that only those who work in the field get food, and there are some here who certainly cannot do so; therefore they are trusting to the generosity of the other men, who get five heads of corn each day they work. Both Nelson and myself have much trouble in getting food from Ismaili for ourselves, and he has refused to feed our boys, who are absolutely necessary to draw water, cook, &c., &c., although I have reduced mine to one. "Nelson and myself went and saw him to day (Hamis Pari, interpreter), and Ismaili stated that you had told the chiefs that a big Mzungu was to come (Nelson), and he would make his own arrangements about food, and that I was here living on his (Ismaili's) generosity, as no arrangements had been made for me. I reminded him of the conversation you had with him in your tent the evening you called me down and gave me your gold watch, and I said that you had told me that you had made a written arrangement with the chiefs that both Nelson and myself should be _provisioned_. We both told him that we did not want goats and fowls, but simply what he can give us. Not having seen any agreement, I could not argue further, but asked to see the document, so that we might convince him; this he said he could not do, as Hamis, the Chief, had it, and he was away, and would not return for two months. He however sent us up some corn shortly afterwards. This is a very unhappy state of affairs for us who shall have to remain here for so long a time. Nelson has sold much of his clothes, and out of my scanty supply (my bag having been lost on the march), I have been obliged to make a further sale so as to provide ourselves with sufficient food. [Illustration: THE RELIEF OF NELSON AND SURVIVORS AT STARVATION CAMP.] "We shall get along here as best we can, and sacrifice much to keep on friendly terms with the Arabs, as it is of such essential importance. I sincerely hope you will have every success in attaining the object of the Expedition, and that we shall all have an opportunity of meeting soon and congratulating Emin Pasha on his relief. "With best wishes, &c., (Signed) "T. H. Parke. "A.M.D. "Arab Village, Ipoto, "_10th November, 1887_. "Dear Sir, "I am sorry to have to tell you that several attempts have been made to rob the hut, and last night unfortunately they managed to get a box of ammunition out of Parke's tent while we were having dinner; also one attempt to burn the hut, which happily I frustrated, owing to my not being able to sleep well. We have spoken to the Chief Ismail about the thieving: he says it is done by Zanzibaris and not by his people; but if there were no sale for the cartridges they would not be stolen. It is of course most unfortunate. Since Jephson left, the enormous quantity of forty small heads of Indian corn has been given to us by Ismail; this is of course quite absurd; as we cannot live on it, we get herbs, with which we supplement our scanty fare. "Uledi returned this afternoon and goes on to-morrow, and by him I send this letter. "With kindest regards to you, Sir, Stairs and Jephson. "I have the honour to be, &c., &c., (Signed) "R. H. Nelson. P.S.--Just as I finished this letter the Chief sent us a little meal, which evidently was done so that Uledi who was waiting for the letter could tell you that we were getting plenty (!!) of food. "H. M. Stanley, Esq., "Commanding E. P. R. Expedition." On the evening of the 26th Ismaili entered my hut, and declared that he had become so attached to me that he would dearly love to go through the process of blood-brotherhood with me. As I was about to entrust Captain Nelson and Surgeon Parke and about thirty sick men to the charge of himself and brother chiefs, I readily consented, though it was somewhat _infra dig_. to make brotherhood with a slave, but as he was powerful in that bloody gang of bandits, I pocketed my dignity and underwent the ceremony. I then selected a five-guinea rug, silk handkerchiefs, a couple of yards of crimson broadcloth, and a few other costly trifles. Finally I made another written agreement for guides to accompany me to the distance of fifteen camps, which he said was the limit of his territory, and good treatment of my officers, and handed to him a gold watch and chain, value £49 in London, as pledge of this agreement, in presence of Surgeon Parke. The next day after leaving Surgeon Parke to attend to his friend Nelson and twenty-nine men, we left Ipoto with our reduced force to strive once more with the hunger of the wilderness. CHAPTER XI. THROUGH THE FOREST TO MAZAMBONI'S PEAK. In the country of the Balessé--Their houses and clearings--Natives of Bukiri--The first village of dwarfs--Our rate of progress increased--The road from Mambungu's--Halts at East and West Indékaru--A little storm between "Three o'clock" and Khamis--We reach Ibwiri--Khamis and the "vile Zanzibaris"--The Ibwiri clearing--Plentiful provisions--The state of my men; and what they had recently gone through--Khamis and party explore the neighbourhood--And return with a flock of goats--Khamis captures Boryo, but is released--Jephson returns from the relief of Captain Nelson--Departure of Khamis and the Manyuema--Memorandum of charges against Messrs. Kilonga-Longa & Co. of Ipoto--Suicide of Simba--Sali's reflections on the same--Lieutenant Stairs reconnoitres--Muster and re-organisation at Ibwiri--Improved condition of the men--Boryo's village--Balessé customs--East Indenduru--We reach the outskirts of the forest--Mount Pisgah--The village of Iyugu--Heaven's light at last! The beautiful grass-land--We drop across an ancient crone--Indésura and its products--Juma's capture--The Ituri river again--We emerge upon a rolling plain--And forage in some villages--The mode of hut construction--The district of the Babusessé--Our Mbiri captives--Natives attack the camp--The course of the Ituri--The natives of Abunguma--Our fare since leaving Ibwiri--Mazamboni's Peak--The east Ituri--A mass of plantations--Demonstration by the natives--Our camp on the crest of Nzera-Kum--"Be strong and of a good courage"--Friendly intercourse with the natives--We are compelled to disperse them--Peace arranged--Arms of the Bandussuma. We marched for two hours to Yumbu, and in four and a quarter hours on the following day to Busindi. We were now in the country of the Balessé. The architecture was peculiar. Its peculiarity consisted in a long street flanked by a long low wooden building, or rather planked building, on either side, 200, 300, or 400 feet long. At first sight one of these villages appeared like a long gable-roofed structure sawn in exact half along the ridge of the roof, and as if each half house had been removed backward for a distance of 20 or 30 feet, and then along the inner sides been boarded up, and pierced with low doors, to obtain entrance into independent apartments. The light wood of the Rubiacæ affords good material for this kind of house. A sizeable tree, 1 foot 18 inches, or 2 feet in diameter, is felled, and the log is cut into short pieces from four to six feet in length; the pieces are easily split by hard wedges, and with their small neat adzes they contrive to shape the plank smooth, tolerably even, and square. They are generally an inch or an inch and a quarter thick. For what is called the ceiling or inner boarding, the boards are thinner and narrower. When a sufficient number of boards and planks are ready, the inner ceiling is lashed to the uprights, frequently in as neat a fashion as a carpenter's apprentice might do it with saw, nails and hammer; on the outer side of the uprights are lashed the thicker planks, or broad slabs, the hollow between the inner and outer frame is then stuffed with the phrynia, or banana leaves. The wall facing the street may be 9 feet high, the back wall facing the forest or clearing is 4 or 4-1/2 feet high, the width of the house varies from 7 to 10 feet. Altogether it is a comfortable and snug mode of building, rather dangerous in case of fire, but very defensible, with trifling labour. [Illustration: SHIELDS OF THE BALESSÉ.] Another peculiarity of the Balessé is the condition of their clearings, and some of these are very extensive, quite a mile and a half in diameter, and the whole strewn with the relics, débris, and timber of the primeval forest. Indeed I cannot compare a Balessé clearing to anything better than a mighty abattis surrounding the principal village, and over this abattis the traveller has to find his way. As one steps out of the shadow of the forest, the path is at first, may be, along the trunk of a great tree for 100 feet, it then turns at right angles along a great branch a few feet; he takes a few paces on the soil, then finds himself in front of a massive prostrate tree-stem 3 feet in diameter or so; he climbs over that, and presently finds himself facing the out-spreading limbs of another giant, amongst which he must creep, and twist, and crawl to get footing on a branch, then from the branch to the trunk, he takes a half turn to the right, walks along the tree from which, increasing in thickness, he must soon climb on top of another that has fallen across and atop of it, when after taking a half-turn to the left, he must follow, ascending it until he is 20 feet above the ground. When he has got among the branches at this dizzy height, he needs judgment, and to be proof against nervousness. After tender, delicate balancing, he places his foot on a branch--at last descends cautiously along the steep slope until he is 6 feet from the ground from which he must jump on to another tapering branch, and follow that to another height of 20 feet, then along the monster tree, then down to the ground; and so on for hours, the hot, burning sun, and the close, steamy atmosphere of the clearing forcing the perspiration in streams from his body. I have narrowly escaped death three times during these frightful gymnastic exercises. One man died where he fell. Several men were frightfully bruised. Yet it is not so dangerous with the naked feet, but with boots in the early morning, before the dew is dried, or after a rain, or when the advance-guard has smeared the timber with a greasy clay, I have had six falls in an hour. The village stands in the centre. We have often congratulated ourselves on coming to a clearing at the near approach to camping-time, but it has frequently occupied us one hour and a half to reach the village. It is a most curious sight to see a caravan laden with heavy burdens walking over this wreck of a forest, and timbered clearing. Streams, swamps, watercourses, ditches are often twenty to twenty-five feet below a tapering slippery tree, which crosses them bridge-like. Some men are falling, some are tottering, one or two have already fallen, some are twenty feet above the ground, others are on the ground creeping under logs. Many are wandering among a maze of branches, thirty or more may be standing on one delicate and straight shaft, a few may be posted like sentries on a branch, perplexed which way to move. All this, however, is made much harder, and more dangerous, when, from a hundred points, the deadly arrows are flying from concealed natives, which, thank Heaven, were not common. We have been too cautious for that kind of work to happen often, though we have seldom been able to leave one of these awful clearings without having some man's foot skewered, or some one lamed. On the 29th we marched to Bukiri or Myyulus, a distance of nine miles in six hours. A few natives having been tormented and persecuted to submission to the Manyuema, greeted us with cries of "Bodo! Bodo! Ulenda! Ulenda!"; greetings which they accompanied with a flinging motion of the hand, as though they jerked "Away! away!" The chief was styled Mwani. They wore much polished ironwork, rings, bells, and anklets, and appeared to be partial to many leglets made of calamus fibre, and armlets of the same material, after the manner of Karagwé and Uhha. They cultivate maize, beans, plantains, and bananas, tobacco, sweet potatoes, yams, brinjalls, melons, gourds. Their goats are fine, and of good size. Fowls are plentiful, but fresh eggs are rare. Among some of these villages there is generally a dome hut of ample size, after the manner of Unyoro, with double porches. [Illustration: GYMNASTICS IN A FOREST CLEARING.] The following day we halted, during which the Manyuema guides took particular care to show our people that they should have no doubt of their contempt for them. They would not allow them to trade with the natives for fear some desirable article would be lost to themselves, they also vociferated at them loudly if they were seen proceeding to the clearing to cut plantains. As I told them, they did not advance in their favour in the least by abandoning the whites, and turning a deaf ear to our adjurations to be manly and faithful. A word, or even a defiant look, was visited with a sharp cut on the naked body with a rattan from slave boys of the six Manyuema guides with us. What awful oaths of vengeance were uttered for all these indignities they suffered! On the 31st we came across the first village of Dwarfs, and, during the day, across several empty settlements belonging to them. We marched nine miles in five and a quarter hours, and camped in a dwarf's village in the woods. Stealing continued steadily. On examining the pouches, there was one cartridge out of three pouches. The cartridges were lost, of course! Hilallah, a boy of sixteen, deserted back to Ipoto with my cartridge pouch, and thirty cartridges in it. A man who carried my satchel ran away with seventy-five Winchester cartridges. The next day we entered the extensive clearing and large settlement of Mambungu's or Nebassé. Khamis, the chief of the guides, left Ipoto on the 31st, and arrived at this place with seven men, according to agreement with Ismaili, my Manyuema brother. The track which we followed has enabled us to increase our rate of progress per hour. Along the river bank, by dint of continued work, and devoting seven, eight, nine hours--sometimes ten hours--we could travel from 3 to 7 miles. We were now enabled to make 1-1/2 to 1-3/4, and even 2 miles per hour; but the pace was still retarded by roots, stumps, climbers, llianes, convolvuli, skewers, and a multitude of streams, and green-scummed sinks. We could rarely proceed a clear hundred yards without being ordered to halt by the pioneers. Each day towards evening the clouds gathered, the thunder reverberated with awful sounds through the echoing forest; lightning darted hither and thither, daily severing some tree-top, or splitting a mighty patriarch from crown to base, or blasting some stately and kingly tree; and the rain fell with a drowning plenty which chilled and depressed us greatly in our poor blooded and anæmic state. But during the march, Providence was gracious; the sun shone, and streamed in million beams of soft light through the woods, which brightened our feelings, and caused the aisles and corridors of the woods to be of Divine beauty, converted the graceful thin tree-shafts into marbly-grey pillars, and the dew and rain-drops into sparkling brilliants; cheered the invisible birds to pour out, with spirit, their varied repertory of songs; inspired parrot flocks to vent gleeful screams and whistlings; roused hosts of monkeys to exert their wildest antics; while now and then some deep, bass roar in far-away recesses indicated a family of _soko_ or chimpanzees enjoying some savage sport. The road from Mambungu's, eastward, was full of torments, fears, and anxieties. Never were such a series of clearings as those around Mambungu, and the neighbouring settlement of Njalis. The trees were of the largest size, and timber enough had been cut to build a navy; and these lay, in all imaginable confusion, tree upon tree, log above log, branches rising in hills above hills; and amongst all this wild ruin of woods grew in profusion upon profusion bananas, plantains, vines, parasites; ivy-like plants, palms, calamus, convolvuli, etc., through which the poor column had to burrow, struggle, and sweat, while creeping, crawling, and climbing, in, through, and over obstacles and entanglements that baffle description. On the 4th November we were 13-3/4 miles from Mambungu's in the settlement of Ndugubisha, having passed, in the interval, through five deserted forest villages of pigmies.On this day I came near smiling--for I fancied I observed the dawn of happier days foretold by Uledi. Each member of the caravan received one ear of corn, and 15 plantains as rations. Fifteen plantains and one ear of corn make a royal ration compared to two ears of corn, or a handful of berries, or a dozen fungus. It was not calculated, however, to make men too cheerful, though our people were naturally light-hearted and gay. "But never mind, my boys," I said, as I doled the spare diet to the hungry creatures; "the morning is breaking; a week more, and then you shall see the end of your troubles." Verbal reply was not given to me; only a wan smile lightened the famine-sharpened features. Our officers had borne these privations with the spirit ascribed by Cæsar to Antony, and as well as though they were to the manner born. They fed on the flat wood beans of the forest, on the acid wild fruit and strange fungus, with the smiling content of Sybarites at a feast. Yet one of them paid £1,000 for this poor privilege, and came near being thought too dainty for rough African life. They had been a living example to our dark followers, many of whom had probably been encouraged to strive for existence by the bright, hopeful looks our officers wore under our many unhappy afflictions. On the following day we crossed the watershed between the Ihuru and Ituri rivers, and we now plunged into cool streams flowing to leftward, or towards the Ihuru. Hills rose to the right and left in wooded and ridgy mounts, and after a march of nine and three-quarter miles, we halted for the night at West Indékaru, at the base of a hill whose top rose 600 feet above the village. Another short march brought us to a village perched half-way up a tall mount, which may be designated as East Indékaru, and by aneroid we were 4,097 feet above the ocean. From this village we enjoyed a first view of our surroundings. Instead of crawling like mighty bipeds in the twilight, 30 fathoms below the level of the white light of the day, compelled to recognize our littleness, by comparison with the giant columns and tall pillar-like shafts that rose by millions around us, we now stood on the crest of a cleared mount, to look upon the leafy world below us. One almost felt as if walking over the rolling plain of leafage was possible, so compact and unbroken was the expanse, extending to a lovely pale blueness as the eyesight followed it to the furthest limits of distinctness--away, far away to an unknown distance the forest tops spread round about a variegated green of plushy texture, broad red patches of tree flowering, and rich russety circles of leaves, not unfrequent. How one envied the smooth, easy flight of the kites and white-collared eagles, sailing gracefully without let or hindrance through the calm atmosphere! Ah! that we had the wings of kites, that we might fly and be at rest from these incorrigibly wicked Manyuema! Whose wish was that? Indeed, I think we all of us shared it, more or less. On the 7th, while we halted on the mount, the Manyuema monopolizing the village, and our men in the bush, unworthy to be near their nobility, there was a little storm between Saat Tato (Three o'clock), the hunter, and Khamis, the chief of the Manyuema guides. It threatened, from the sound of words, to explode hurtfully at one time. Khamis slapped him in the face. Both were tall men, but Saat Tato was two inches taller, a good soldier, who had seen service in Madagascar and with Sultan Barghash as a sergeant, but who, from his habits of getting drunk by the third hour of each day, was nicknamed "Three o'clock," and dismissed. He was an excellent man, faithful, strong, obedient, and an unerring shot. Given the benefits of twenty-five pounds of food, Saat Tato, at a hint, would have smilingly taken hold of Khamis, and snapped his vertebrae across his knee with the ease that he would have broken a spear staff. I observed Saat Tato closely, for it must be remembered that it had become fully impressed on my mind that my men were quite too broken-spirited. Saat Tato looked at him a second severely; then, lifting his forefinger, said to Khamis, "It is well, but I should like to see you repeat that blow a little time hence, after I have a little food in me, and filled this stomach of mine. Strike me again, do; I can bear it." Advancing, and touching Khamis on the shoulder, I said, "Khamis, do not do that again. I do not allow even my officers to strike my men like that." The ill-humour was increasing, and, little as the Manyuema imagined, they were assisting me to restore the spirit of the Zanzibaris by their cruelty. There were signs that the Christians would prevail after all. The mutual affection expressed between the Moslem co-religionists at the altar of which our men were ready to sacrifice our lives and liberties and their own freedom, had been cooled by the cruelty, perverseness, and niggardliness of the Manyuema. All we had to do was to watch it, bear patiently, and be ready. To our great comfort Khamis confessed that West Indékaru was the utmost limit of his master Ismaili's territory. We, however, were not to part from him until we reached Ibwiri. We marched eleven miles on the 8th of November through a much more open forest, and we could see further into the interior. The road was better, so much so that our rate of marching increased to two miles per hour. The gritty and loamy soil had absorbed the rain, and walking became pleasant. The llianes were not so riotously abundant, only a strong creeper now and then requiring severance. At several places there were granite outcroppings of a colossal size, which were a novelty and added a kind of romantic and picturesque interest to the woods, darkly suggestive of gitanos, bandits, or pigmies. A march of nine and a half miles on the 9th of November took us to a Pigmies' camp. Until noon a mist had hung over the land. Towards the latter part of the tramp we passed through several lately deserted villages of the dwarfs, and across eight streams. Khamis, the guide, and his followers, and about half-a-dozen of the pioneers proceeded to Ibwiri, which was only one and a half mile distant, and on the next day we joined them. This was one of the richest and finest clearings we had seen since leaving Yambuya, though had the Expedition been despatched eight months earlier, we should have found scores in the same prosperous condition. Here was a clearing three miles in diameter abounding in native produce, and hitherto unvisited by the Manyuema. Almost every plantain stalk bore an enormous branch of fruit, with from fifty to one hundred and forty plantains attached. Some specimens of this fruit were twenty-two inches long, two and a half inches in diameter, and nearly eight inches round, large enough to furnish Saat Tato the hunter, with his long desired full meal. There was an odour of ripe fruit pervading the air, and as we climbed over the logs and felt our way gingerly along the prostrate timber, I was often asked by the delighted people to note the bunches of mellow fruit hanging temptingly before their eyes. Before reaching the village Murabo, a Zanzibari headman, whispered to me that there were five villages in Ibwiri, and that each hut in every village was more than a fourth full of Indian corn, but that Khamis and his Manyuema had been storing corn in their own huts, which, according to right of preemption, they had reserved for themselves. On entering the street of the village, Khamis met me with the usual complaints about the wickedness of the "vile Zanzibaris." Looking down on the ground I saw many a trail of corn which went to corroborate Murabo's story, and as Khamis proposed that the Expedition should occupy the western half of the village, and he and his fifteen Manyuema would occupy the eastern half, I ventured to demur to the proposition on the ground that as we had departed out of his master's territory we claimed all the land to the eastward, and would in future dispense with any suggestion as to what we should do, and that furthermore not a grain of corn, nor plantain, banana, or any other native product in the land would leave the country without my permission. He was told, no people on earth could have borne so uncomplainingly such shames, affronts, and insults as had been put upon the Zanzibaris, and that in future they should be permitted to resent all such injuries as they best knew how. Khamis assented submissively to all this. The first thing after storing goods, and distributing the men to their quarters, was to give fifty ears of corn per man, and to arrange with the natives as to our future conduct towards one another. Within an hour it was agreed that the western half of the Ibwiri clearing should be granted to us for foraging; that the eastern half, from a certain stream, should be the reserve of the natives. Khamis, the Manyuema, was also induced to enter into the pact. In return for a packet of brass rods, Boryo, the principal chief of the Balessé of the district, presented us with five fowls and a goat. This was a great day. Since August 31st not one follower of the Expedition had enjoyed a full meal, but now bananas, plantains ripe and green, potatoes, herbs, yams, beans, sugar-cane, corn, melons in such quantities were given them that were they so many elephants they could not have exhausted the stock provided for them in less than ten days. They could gratify to the full the appetite so long stinted and starved. As we were compelled to wait for Mr. Jephson and some sixty Zanzibaris--forty of the relief party, boat's crew, and convalescents from Ipoto--the good effect of this abundance would be visible in a few clays. It was also one of those settlements we had been anxiously searching for as a recuperating station. On this date the men were hideous to look upon, because of their gaunt nakedness. They were naked, for they had stripped themselves to obtain food from the slaves of the Manyuema at Ugarrowwa's and Ipoto; of flesh they had none, for they had been reduced to bones by seventy-three days of famine and thirteen days of absolute want; of strength they had but little, and they were ill-favoured in every respect; their native colour of oiled bronze had become a mixture of grimy black and wood ashes; their rolling eyes betrayed signs of disease, impure blood, and indurated livers; that beautiful contour of body, and graceful and delicate outlines of muscles--alas, alas!--were all gone. They more befitted a charnel-house than a camp of men bound to continually wear fighting accoutrements. Khamis, the Manyuema guide, offered the next morning to proceed east to search out the road from Ibwiri, for, as he informed me, Boryo, the chief, had told him of a grass-land being not many days off. He thought that with a few of Boryo's natives, and thirty of our riflemen, he could discover something of interest. Calling Boryo to me, he confirmed, as well as we could understand him, that from a place called Mandé, which he said was only two days' good marching--say forty miles--the grass-land could be seen; that herds of cattle came in such numbers to the Ituri river to drink that the river "swelled up." All this chimed with my eager desire to know how far we were from the open country, and as Boryo said he was willing to furnish guides, I called for volunteers. Twenty-eight men came forward, to my surprise, as willing and as eager for new adventures as though they had been revelling in plenty for the last few months. Khamis and his party departed shortly after. Despite strict prohibition to touch anything on the native reservation of Ibwiri, one of our raiders paid it a visit, and captured nineteen fowls, two of which he had already despatched, the remaining seventeen he had decapitated, but our detectives pounced upon him and his stock, as he and his chum were debating what they should do with the feathers. The flesh and bones did not promise to be any trouble to them. Close by them two men had despatched an entire goat, excepting the head! These facts serve to illustrate the boundless capacity of Zanzibari stomachs. The natives of Ibwiri had behaved most handsomely, and personally I felt a sense of shame at the ingratitude of my followers. The chief and his family were living with us, and exchanged their greetings of "Bodo, Bodo, ulenda, ulenda," half-a-dozen times a day. Yet our men had undergone such extremes of wretchedness during the last two and a half months that we might have well anticipated some excesses would be committed upon the first opportunity. No other body of men in the wide world that I am acquainted with could have borne such a period of hunger so meekly, so resignedly. Not a grain or a bit of human food discoverable anywhere, their comrades dying at every camp, or falling dead along the track, others less patient plunging into the depths of the wilderness maddened by hunger, leaving them to fare as they might under the burdens of war-munitions, and baggage. Goaded by the protracted hunger, and fierce despair, and loss of trust in their officers, they might have seized their Remingtons and, by one volley, have slain their white chiefs, and fed on them, and shaken off power, and, in a moment, the clutch of authority which, so far as they knew, was only dragging them down to certain doom. While I pitied the natives who had lost their property when they least deserved it, I could not remove from my memory that extended fast in the area of desolation and forest wilderness stretching between the Basopo Rapids and Ibwiri, on the edge of which we were even now located, or their patient obedience--thefts and small practices notwithstanding, their unfaltering fidelity, their kindness to us while we were starving, in bestowing upon us the choicest and finest of the wild fruit they had discovered, and their altogether courageous bearing and noble hopefulness during the terrible days of adversity; all these virtues must needs extenuate their offences, and it was best to await fulness and reflection to assist us in reclaiming them into tractableness and good order. Every mile or two almost of that hungry forest solitude between the Ihuru and Ituri confluence and Ipoto had been marked by the dead bodies of their comrades; there they lay fast mildewing and rotting in the silent gloom, and, but for the fidelity of the survivors, none of those capable of giving intelligent testimony of the stern trials endured during September, October, and the half of November, would have lived to relate the sad and sorrowful details. The more experience and insight I obtain into human nature, the more convinced do I become that the greater portion of a man is purely animal. Fully and regularly fed, he is a being capable of being coaxed or coerced to exertion of any kind, love and fear sway him easily, he is not averse to labour however severe; but when starved it is well to keep in mind the motto "Cave Canem," for a starving lion over a raw morsel of beef is not so ferocious or so ready to take offence. Rigid discipline, daily burdens, and endless marching into regions of which they were perfectly ignorant, never seemed to gall our men much when their stomachs were pampered, and abundant provender for their digestive organs were provided; but even hanging unto death was only a temporary damper to their inclination to excessive mischief when pinched with hunger. The aborigines also of Ibwiri surrounded by plenty are mild and meek enough through pure sleekness, but the dwarfish nomads of the forest are, I am told, as fierce as beasts of prey, and fight till their quivers are empty. I received word on the 12th that Khamis, the Manyuema who was supposed to have gone for my gratification to explore the country ahead, and to make friends with the aid of the natives, had, owing to perverseness, been unable to accomplish his mission; that he was greatly disappointed, and that he had been attacked by the natives of East Ibwiri and had lost two men. I sent word to him to return. The fleas of Ibwiri became so intolerable that in order to obtain rest, I had to set my tent in the open street. On the 13th of November, while taking an inspection of the village camp, and examining into the condition of the men, I was amazed at the busy scene of eating I beheld. Almost every man was engaged in pounding corn, reducing dried bananas into flour, or grinding mouthfuls of food with their fine teeth, making amends for the compulsory fast of September, October and November. Khamis returned on the 14th with a large flock of goats obtained from somewhere. He was gracious enough to allow us sixteen head. This inclined us to suspect that the real object of his design was not to explore but to extend the conquests of his master, Ismaili, farther east through our assistance, and to reduce the natives of Ibwiri into the same state of poverty as the neighbourhood of Ipoto, for instance. But though Khamis possessed force sufficient to have accomplished even this last, the silly fellow's greed caused him to behave with such reckless disregard of the poisoned shafts of the natives that he lost three of his men. It seems that as soon as a flock of goats was sighted, Khamis forgot his design to explore, urged his Manyuema to their capture, and retained our people by him. Our men by these tactics returned uninjured without having been engaged in this disgraceful action. Then, as Khamis was returning to our village, mourning the loss of three of his most active comrades, he suddenly met Boryo, the Chief of East Ibwiri, and without a word made him a prisoner. Before reporting to me, Khamis, on arrival, ordered his men to strangle the chief in revenge for the death of his men. Happening to hear of it, I sent a guard to take him by force out of Khamis' hands, and placed him in a hut out of harm's way, and bade Boryo rest quiet until Khamis had departed. We luxuriated during our days of rest. There had been discovered such an abundance of food that we might safely have rested six months without fear of starving. We enjoyed ripe plantains made into puddings with goats' milk; fritters, patties and bread, sweet potatoes, manioc, yams, herbs, fowls and goat meat without stint. On the evening of this day the _menu_ for dinner was-- Kid soup. Roast leg of kid, and baked sweet potatoes. Boiled sweet manioc. Fried bananas. Sweet cake of ripe plantain. Plantain fritters. Goats' milk. Already I noted a change in the appearance of ourselves and followers. There was certainly more noise, and once or twice I heard an attempt at singing, but as there was a well recognised flaw in the voice, it was postponed to another day. At 3 P.M. of the 16th Mr. Jephson appeared, having performed his mission of relief most brilliantly. As will be seen by Mr. Jephson's letter descriptive of his success, he had been able to proceed to the relief of Captain Nelson, and to return with him to Ipoto within seven days, after a journey of about a hundred miles. Judging from Captain Nelson's letter, he seemed to have been delivered out of his terrible position to fall into a similar desperate strait in the midst of the plenty of Ipoto. The next day Khamis and his Manyuema returned homeward without taking leave. I despatched a letter to the officers at Ipoto, sent Khamis' ivory and a present of cloth with it to Indékaru, whence the Manyuema might be able to obtain assistance from their own natives. I was never so dissatisfied with myself as when I was compelled to treat these men thus so kindly, and to allow them to depart without even the small satisfaction of expressing my private opinion of Manyuema in general and of the gang at Ipoto in particular. At all points I was worsted; they compelled a generous treatment from me, and finally trapped me into the obligation of being the carrier of their stolen ivory. Yet I felt grateful to them somewhat that they had not taken greater advantage of my position. With Captain Nelson and Dr. Parke and about thirty men in their power, they might have compelled a thousand concessions from me, which happily they did not. I hoped that after a season of forbearance divine justice would see fit to place me in more independent circumstances. When the Doctor and Nelson and their sick men were recovered and in my camp, and the 116 loads and boat left at Ipoto been conveyed away, then, and not till then, would I be able to cast up accounts, and demand a peremptory and final settlement. The charges were written plainly and fairly, as a memorandum. Messrs. Kilonga Longa and Co., Ipoto. _To Mr. Stanley, officers and men of the E. P. R. Expedition,_ _November 17th, 1887._ _Dr._ To having caused the starvation to death between the } Lenda River and Ibwiri of 67 men: because we had } crossed that river with 271 men--and in camp with } 67 those due here shortly there were only 175, and 28 } inclusive of Captain Nelson and Dr. Parke--therefore } loss of men. } To 27 men at Ipoto too feeble to travel, many of whom will not recover. To spearing to death Mufta Mazinga. 1 To flogging one man to death. 1 To flogging Ami, a Zanzibari, 200 lashes. To attempting to starve Captain Nelson and Dr. Parke. To instigating robbery of two boxes of ammunition. To receiving thirty stolen Remington rifles. To various oppressions of Zanzibaris. To compelling Sarboko to work as their slave. To various insults to Captain Nelson and Dr. Parke. To devastating 44,000 square miles of territory. To butchery of several thousands of natives. To enslaving several hundreds of women and children. To theft of 200 tusks of ivory between May, 1887, and October, 1887. To many murders, raids, crimes, devastations past, present and prospective. -- To deaths of Zanzibaris 69 To mischiefs incalculable! During the afternoon of the 17th we experienced once again the evils attending our connection with the Manyuema. All Ibwiri and neighbouring districts were in arms against us. The first declaration of their hostilities took place when a man named Simba proceeded to the stream close to the camp to draw water, and received an arrow in the abdomen. Realizing from our anxious faces the fatal nature of the wound, he cried out his "Buryani brothers!" and soon after, being taken into his hut, loaded a Remington rifle near him, and made a ghastly wreck of features that were once jovial, and not uncomely. The reflections of the Zanzibaris on the suicide were curious, and best expressed by Sali, the tent boy. "Think of it, Simba! a poor devil owning nothing in the world, without anything or anybody dear to him, neither name, place, property, or honour, to commit suicide! Were he a rich Arab now, a merchant Hindu, a captain of soldiers, a governor of a district, or a white man who had suffered misfortune, or had been the victim of dishonour or shame, yea, I could understand the spirit of the suicide; but this Simba, who was no better than a slave, an outcast of Unyanyembé, without friends on the face of the earth, save the few poor things in his own mess in this camp, to go and kill himself like a man of wealth! Faugh! pitch him into the wilderness, and let him rot! What right has he to the honour of a shroud and a burial?" This was the sentiment of the men who were once his comrades--though not so forcibly expressed as was done by little Sali in his fierce indignation at the man's presumption. Early on this morning Lieutenant Stairs and thirty-six rifles were despatched to make a reconnaissance eastward under the guidance of Boryo, and a young Manyuema volunteer, as we had yet a few days to wait for the arrival of several convalescents who, wearied of the cruelties practised at Ipoto on them, preferred death on the road to the horrible servitude of the Manyuema slaves. On the 19th Uledi, the coxswain of the _Advance_ with his boat's crew, arrived, reporting that there were fifteen convalescents on the way. By night they were in the camp. On the 21st the reconnoitering party under Lieutenant Stairs returned, Boryo still accompanying them; nothing new about the grass land had been obtained, but they reported a tolerably good path leading steadily eastward, which was as comforting news as we could expect. On the 23rd, the last day of our stay at Ibwiri, there was a muster and reorganization:-- No. 1 company, Jephson 80 men. No. 2 " Stairs 76 " Soudanese 5 " Cooks 3 " Boys 6 " Europeans 4 " Manyuema guide 1 " --- 175 " === Inclusive of Captain Nelson and Dr. Parke there were twenty-eight at Ipoto; we had left to recuperate at Ugarrowwa's fifty-six. Some from Nelson's starvation camp under Umari, the headman, probably ten, might return; so that we reckoned the number of the advance column to be 268 still living out of 389 men who had departed from Yambuya 139 days previously, and put down our loss at 111. We were greatly mistaken, however, for by this date many of the sick at Ugarrowwa's had died, and the condition of the sick at Ipoto was deplorable. Since our arrival at Ibwiri the majority of our followers had gained weight of body at the rate of a pound per day. Some were positively huge in girth; their eyes had become lustrous, and their skins glossy like oiled bronze. For the last three nights they had ventured upon songs; they hummed their tunes as they pounded their corn; they sang as they gazed at the moon at night after their evening meal. Frequently a hearty laugh had been heard. In the afternoon of this day a sparring match took place between two young fellows, and a good deal of severe thumping was exchanged; they were always "spinning yarns" to interested listeners. Life had come back by leaps and bounds. Brooding over skeletons and death, and musing on distant friends in their far-away island, had been abandoned for hopeful chat over the future, about the not far distant grass land with its rolling savannahs, and green champaigns, abounding in fat cattle; and they dwelt unctuously on full udders and massive humps, and heavy tails of sheep, and granaries of millet and sesame, pots of zogga, pombe, or some other delectable stimulant, and the Lake Haven, where the white man's steamers were at anchor, appeared distinctly in their visions. They all now desired the march, for the halt had been quite sufficient. There were twenty perhaps to whom another fortnight's rest was necessary, but they all appeared to me to have begun recovery, and, provided food was abundant, their marching without loads would not be hurtful. At dawn of the bright and sunny day, 24th of November, the Soudanese trumpeter blew the signal with such cheery strains that found a ready response from every man. The men shouted their "Ready, aye ready, Master!" in a manner that more reminded me of former expeditions, than of any day we had known on this. There was no need of the officers becoming exasperated at delays of laggards and the unwilling; there was not a malingerer in the camp. Every face was lit up with hopefulness. A prospective abundance of good cheer invited them on. For two days ahead, the path was known by those of the reconnaissance, and the members of the party had, like Caleb and Joshua, expatiated upon the immense and pendent clusters of plantains effusing delicious odours of ripeness, and upon the garden plots of potatoes, and waving fields of maize, &c. Therefore, for once, we were relieved from the anxiety as to who should take this load, or that box; there was no searching about for the carriers, no expostulations nor threats, but the men literally leaped to the goods pile, fought for the loads, and laughed with joy; and the officers faces wore grateful smiles, and expressed perfect contentment with events. We filed out of the village, a column of the happiest fellows alive. The accursed Manyuema were behind us, and in our front rose in our imaginations vivid pictures of pastoral lands, and a great lake on whose shores we were to be greeted by a grateful Pasha, and a no less grateful army of men. In forty-five minutes we arrived at Boryo's village (the chief had been released the day before), a long, orderly arrangement of a street 33 feet wide, flanked by four low blocks of buildings 400 yards in length. According to the doors we judged that fifty-two families had formed Boryo's particular community. The chief's house was recognized by an immense slab of wood four feet wide and six feet long, and two inches thick; its doorway being cut out of this in a diamond figure. The height of the broad eaves was 10 feet above the ground, and the houses were 10 feet in width. The eaves projected 30 inches in front, and 2 feet over the back walls. Outside of the village extended, over level and high ground, the fields, gardens, and plantations, banked all round by the untouched forest, which looked dark, ominous, and unwelcome. Altogether Boryo's village was the neatest and most comfortable we had seen throughout the valley of the Aruwimi. One hundred yards from the western end ran a perennial and clear stream, which abounded with fish of the silurus kind. After a short halt we resumed the journey, and entered the forest. Four miles beyond Boryo's we passed over a swamp, which was very favourable to fine growths of the Raphia palm, and soon after lunched. In the afternoon I undertook, as an experiment, to count my paces for an hour, and to measure a space of 200 yards, to find the number of inches to a pace, and found that the average rate in a fair track through the forest was 4800 paces of 26 inches long = 3470 yards per hour. At 3 o'clock we camped in an extensive pigmies' village. The site commanded four several roads, leading to villages. There is no doubt it was a favourite spot, for the village common was well tamped and adapted for sport, gossip, and meetings. The bush around the camp was quite undisturbed. On the 25th, after 8-1/4 miles march, we reached Indémwani. Our track led along the water-parting between the Ituri and Ihuru rivers. The village was of oval shape, similar in architecture to Boryo's. A wealth of plantains surrounded it, and Indian corn, tobacco, beans, and tomatoes were plentiful. In passing through the clearing, over a fearful confusion of logs, one of our men toppled over, and fell and broke his neck. From Indémwani we moved on the 26th to West Indenduru, through a most humid land. Streams were crossed at every mile; moss, wet and dripping, clothed stems from base to top. Even shrubs and vines were covered with it. A peculiarity of this day's march was a broad highway, cut and cleared for 3 miles through the undergrowth, which was terminated by a large village of the pigmies, but recently vacated. There were ninety-two huts, which we may take to represent ninety-two families, or thereabouts. There was one hut more pretentious than the others, which possibly was the chief's house. We had seen now about twenty villages of the forest pigmies, but as yet we had only viewed the pretty little woman at Ugarrowwa--the miniature Hebé. Lieutenant Stairs, during his reconnaissance from Ibwiri, had reached West Indenduru, and had left the village standing; but because he had occupied it, the natives had set fire to it after his departure. We observed also that the Balessé seldom ate of the produce of a field twice, and that a plantain grove, after bearing fruit once, is abandoned for another; and a corn plot, after being tilled, sown, and harvested, is left to revert to wilderness. They appear to be continually planting bananas and preparing ground for corn, which accounted for the immense clearings we had passed, and for the thousands of trees that littered the ground in one great ruin. For the bananas or plantains, they simply cut down the underwood and plant the young bulbs in a shallow hole, with sufficient earth to keep it upright. They then cut the forest down, and let the trees lie where they fall. In six months the Musa bulbs have thriven wonderfully under shade and among roots and débris, and grown to 8 feet in height; within a year they have borne fruit. The Indian corn or maize requires sunshine. The trees are cut down well above the buttress, by building scaffolds 10, 15, or even 20 feet high. The logs are cut up, and either split for slabs or lining for the inner and outer walls of their huts, or scooped out for troughs for the manufacture of plantain wine. The branches are piled around the plot to rot; they do not burn them, because that would impoverish the soil, and as the surface is rich in humus, it would burn down to the clay. Considering what great labour is involved in the clearing of a portion of primeval forest, we were tempted to regard the Balessé as very foolish in burning their villages for such a trivial cause as one night's occupation of them by strangers; but it is an instance of the obstinate sullenness of these people. Boryo's village, for instance, could scarcely be constructed under a twelvemonth. The population of the largest village we saw could not exceed 600 souls; but while we wonder at their prejudices, we must award credit to them for great industry and unlimited patience to produce such splendid results as we observed. East Indenduru was also an exceedingly well-built village, and extremely clean, though the houses within swarmed with vermin. The street, however, was too narrow for the height of the buildings, and a fire occurring in the night might easily have consumed half the inhabitants. For the huts were higher than at Boryo's, and as the buildings were a few hundred yards in length, and had only one principal exit at the eastern end, the danger of a fire was such that we did not occupy it without having taken many precautions to avoid a possible disaster in what appeared to be a perfect trap. Field-beans, of a dark variety, were gathered by the bushel, and our men revelled in the juice of the sugar-cane. We were now in S. Lat. 1° 22-1/2' and south of the watershed, all streams flowing towards the Ituri. On the 28th we halted in East Indenduru, and sent three separate reconnoitering parties to obtain a knowledge of the general direction of the routes leading out of the settlement. We had tested the task of forming our own track through the forest long enough, and having discovered one which had been of such service to us, we were loth to revert to the tedious labour of travelling through jungles and undergrowth again. Jephson's party proceeded S.S.E., and finally S., and at noon turned back to report. This road would not do for us. Rashid's party took one leading E.N.E., and finally north, through two small villages, one path returning southerly, another going north-easterly. Continuing his explorations along the latter, he came to a native camp. There was a slight skirmish; the natives fled, and he obtained a prize of nine fat goats, only five of which they brought to camp. This road would not suit us either. A third search party was led by a famous scout, who discovered one path heading easterly. We resolved to adopt this. On the 29th we left Indenduru and journeyed to Indepessu by noon, and in the afternoon sheered by a northerly path to the settlement of the Baburu, having accomplished a distance of ten miles in five hours, which was exceedingly fair walking. On the next morning, after a march of an hour and a half along a tolerably good path, we emerged in front of an extensive clearing of about 240 acres. The trees were but recently cut. This marked the advent of a powerful tribe, or a late removal to new ground of old settlers of some numerical force, resolved upon securing many creature comforts. A captive woman of the Waburu led the way through the middle of this wide abattis, the very sight of which was appalling. An hour later we had crossed this, not without bruised shins and much trembling, and the path then led up an easy ascent up a prolonged span of a hill. The hollows on either side of it showed prodigious groves of plantains and many gardens, ill-kept, devoted to herbs and gourds. Within thirty minutes from the summit of the ascent we had reached an altitude that promised to give us shortly a more extended view than any we had been lately accustomed to, and we pressed gladly upwards, and soon entered a series of villages that followed the slope. A village of these parts always gave us a highway well trodden, from forty to sixty feet wide; in a series of this type of villages we should soon be able to pace a mile. We had passed through several fine separate long blocks of low structures, when the foremost of the advance guard was seen running swiftly down to meet me. He asked me to look towards the sunrise, and, turning my eyes in that direction, they were met by the gratifying sight of a fairly varied scene of pasture-land and forest, of level champaigns and grassy slopes of valleys and hills, rocky knolls and softly rounded eminences, a veritable "land of hills and valleys, that drinketh the rain of heaven." That the open country was well watered was indicated by the many irregular lines of woods which marked the courses of the streams, and by the clumps of trees, whose crowns just rose above their sloping banks. The great forest in which we had been so long buried, and whose limits were in view, appeared to continue intact and unbroken to the N.E., but to the E. of it was an altogether different region of grassy meads and plains and hills, freely sprinkled with groves, clusters, and thin lines of trees up to certain ranges of hills that bounded the vision, and at whose base I knew must be the goal whither we had for months desired to reach. [Illustration: VIEW OF MOUNT PISGAH FROM THE EASTWARD.] This, then, was the long promised view and the long expected exit out of gloom! Therefore I called the tall peak terminating the forested ridge, of which the spur whereon we stood was a part, and that rose two miles E. of us to a height of 4600 feet above the sea, Pisgah,--Mount Pisgah,--because, after 156 days of twilight in the primeval forest, we had first viewed the desired pasturelands of Equatoria. The men crowded up the slope eagerly with inquiring open-eyed looks, which, before they worded their thoughts, we knew meant "Is it true? Is it no hoax? Can it be possible that we are near the end of this forest hell?" They were convinced themselves in a few moments after they had dropped their burdens, and regarded the view with wondering and delighted surprise. "Aye, friends, it is true. By the mercy of God we are well nigh the end of our prison and dungeon!" They held their hands far out yearningly towards the superb land, and each looked up to the bright blue heaven in grateful worship, and after they had gazed as though fascinated, they recovered themselves with a deep sigh, and as they turned their heads, lo! the sable forest heaved away to the infinity of the west, and they shook their clenched hands at it with gestures of defiance and hate. Feverish from sudden exaltation, they apostrophised it for its cruelty to themselves and their kinsmen; they compared it to Hell, they accused it of the murder of one hundred of their comrades, they called it the wilderness of fungi and wood-beans; but the great forest which lay vast as a continent before them, and drowsy, like a great beast, with monstrous fur thinly veiled by vaporous exhalations, answered not a word, but rested in its infinite sullenness, remorseless and implacable as ever. From S.E. to S. extended a range of mountains between 6,000 and 7,000 feet above the sea. One woman captive indicated S.E. as our future direction to the great water that "rolled incessantly on the shore with a booming noise, lifting and driving the sand before it," but as we were in S. Lat. 1°. 22', on the same parallel as Kavalli, our objective point, I preferred aiming east, straight towards it. Old Boryo, chief of Ibwiri, had drawn with his hand a semicircle from S.E. to N.W. as the course of the Ituri River, and said that the river rose from a plain at the foot of a great hill, or a range of hills. To the S.E. of Pisgah we could see no plain, but a deep wooded valley, and unless our eyes deceived us, the forest seemed to ascend up the slopes of the range as far as its summits. Five months of travel in one continuous forest was surely experience enough; a change would therefore be agreeable, even if we varied but our hardships. This was another reason why I proposed to decline all advice upon the proper path leading to the "great water." In the village of the Bakwuru, in which we now prepared to encamp, we found sleeveless vests of thick buffalo hide, which our men secured, as fitting armour against the arrows of the tribes of the grass land. [Illustration: VILLAGES OF THE BAKWURU ON A SPUR OF PISGAH.] On the 1st of December we retraced our steps down the spur, and then struck along a track running easterly. In a short time we ascended another spur leading up to a terrace below Pisgah peak, where we obtained the highest reading of the aneroid that we had yet reached. We then followed a path leading from the terrace down another spur to the average level. A number of well-defined and trodden roads were crossed, but our path seemed to increase in importance until, at 11.15 A.M., we entered the large village of Iyugu, which, of course, was quite deserted, so quickly do the natives of the forest seem to be apprised of new arrivals. The street of this village was forty feet wide. We observed a considerable dryness in the woods between Pisgah base and Iyugu, which was a great change from that excessive humidity felt and seen between Indenduru and Ibwiri. The fallen forest leaves had a slightly crispy look about them and crackled under our feet, and the track, though still in primeval shade, had somewhat of the dusty appearance of a village street. [Illustration: A VILLAGE AT THE BASE OF PISGAH.] Alter the noon halt we made a two hours' march to a small village consisting of three conical huts, near which we camped. Though we had travelled over ten miles we might have been hundreds of miles yet from the open country for all we could gather from our surroundings. For they were, as usual, of tall dense woods, of true tropic character, dark, sombrous and high, bound one to the other with creepers and vines, and a thick undergrowth throve under the shades. We, however, picked up a strange arrow in one of the huts, which differed greatly from any we had as yet seen. It was twenty-eight inches in length, and its point was spear-shaped,and three inches long. Its shaft was a light reed cane, beautifully and finely notched for decoration, a thin triangular-shaped piece of kid leather directed the arrow, instead of a leaf or a piece of black cloth as hitherto. A quiver full of forest-tribe arrows was also found, and they were twenty inches long, and each arrowhead differed from the other, though each was murderously sharp and barbed. [Illustration: CHIEF OF THE IYUGU.] On the 2nd of December, soon after leaving the camp, we lost the native road, and had to pick our way amongst a perplexing number of buffalo and elephant tracks. A stupid fellow, who had been out wandering, had informed us that he had reached the plain the night before, and that he could easily guide us to it. Trusting in him, we soon lost all signs of a track, and began a crooked and erratic course through the woods, as in times past. After nearly three hours' travelling N. by E. we stumbled upon a village, whose conical roofs were thatched with grass. This was a grand discovery, and was hailed with cheers. One fellow literally rushed to the grass and kissed it lovingly. Already there were two characteristics of pasture-land before us, the cone hut and the grass thatch. We halted for a noon rest, and a few young men took advantage of it to explore, and before the halting-time was expired brought to us a bunch of green grass, which was hailed with devout raptures, as Noah and his family may have hailed the kindly dove with the olive branch. However, they reported that the way they had followed led to a swamp, and swamps being a horror to a laden caravan, our afternoon march was made in a S.S.E. direction, which in ninety minutes brought us to Indésura, another village, or rather a district, consisting of several small settlements of cone huts thatched with grass. Here we halted. Having occasion to repair a roof a man mounted to the top of a house, and looking round languidly was presently seen to lift his hand to his eyes and gaze earnestly. He then roared out loud enough for the entire village to hear, "I see the grass-land. Oh, but we are close to it!" "Nay," said one in reply, mockingly, "don't you also see the lake, and the steamer, and that Pasha whom we seek?" Most of us were, however, stirred by the news, and three men climbed up to the roofs with the activity of wild cats, others climbed to the tops of trees, while a daring young fellow climbed one which would have tasked a monkey almost, and a chorus of exclamations rose, "Aye, verily, it is the truth of God, the open land is close to us, and we knew it not! Why, it is merely an arrow's flight distant! Ah, when we reach it, farewell to darkness and blindness." As a man went to draw water from the stream, close by, an ancient crone stepped out of the bush, and the man dropped his water-pot and seized her. She being vigorous and obstinate, like most of her sex just previous to dotage, made a vigorous defence for her liberty. A Countess of Salisbury could not have been more resolute, but the man possessed superior strength and craft and hauled her into camp. By dint of smiles and coaxing and obsequiously filling a long pipe for her, we learned that we were in Indésura, that the people were called Wanya-Sura, that the villagers quenched their thirst with the waters of the Ituri. "The Ituri?" "Ay, the Ituri; this stream close by;" that many days east of us was a great broad river, ever so much broader than the Ituri, with canoes as wide as a house (ten feet) which would carry six people (_sic_); that a few days north there was a mighty tribe called the Banzanza, and east of them another people called the Bakandi, and both of these tribes possessed numerous herds of cattle, and were very valorous and warlike, and who were rich in cattle, cowries, and brass wire. [Illustration: IYUGU; A CALL TO ARMS.] Our ancient captive, who was somewhat peculiar for her taste in personal decoration by having a wooden disk of the size of an ulster button intruded into the centre of her upper lip, was now seized with another fit of obstinacy and scowled malignantly at all of us except at a bashful smooth-faced youth upon whom she apparently doted, but the foolish youth ascribed the ugliness of agedness to witchcraft, and fled from her. Indésura--and, as we discovered later, all the villages situated on the edge of the forest--was remarkable for the variety and excellent quality of its products. Mostly all the huts contained large baskets of superior tobacco weighing from twenty to fifty pounds each, such quantities, indeed, that every smoker in the camp obtained from five to ten pounds. The crone called it "Taba;" in Ibwiri it was called Tabo. Owing to the imperfect drying it is not fragrant, but it is extremely smokable. Fifty pipefuls a day of it would not produce so much effect on the nerves as one of the article known as Cavendish. But here and there among the leaves there were a few of rich brown colour, slightly spotted with nitre which produced a different effect. Two of our officers experimented on a pipeful of this, which they deemed to be superior, and were inconceivably wretched in consequence. When, however, these leaves are picked out, the tobacco is mild and innocuous, as may be judged by the half-pint pipe-bowls peculiar to this region. In every district near the grass-land the plant is abundantly cultivated, for the purpose of commerce with the herdsmen of the plains in exchange for meat. The castor-oil plant was also extensively cultivated. Requiring a supply of castor-oil as medicine, the beans were roasted, and then pounded in a wooden mortar, and we expressed a fair quantity, which proved very effective. We also required a supply for rifles, and their mechanisms, and the men prepared a supply for anointing their bodies--an operation which made them appear fresh, clean, and vigorous. [Illustration: PIPES.] Having discovered that four of our scouts were strangely absent, I despatched Rashid bin Omar and twenty men in search of them. They were discovered and brought to us next morning, and to my surprise the four absentees, led by the incorrigible Juma Waziri, were driving a flock of twenty fine goats, which the chief scout had captured by a ruse. I had often been tempted to sacrifice Juma for the benefit of others, but the rogue always appeared with such an inoffensive, and crave-your-humble-pardon kind of face, which could not be resisted. He was of a handsome Abyssinian type, but the hypocrisy on his features marred their natural beauty. A Mhuma, Masai, Mtaturu, or Galla must have meat, even more so than the Englishman. It is an article of faith with him, that life is not worth living without an occasional taste of beef. I therefore warned Juma again, and consoled myself with the reflection, that his career as a scout could only be for a brief time, and that he would surely meet natives of craft and courage equal to his own some day. We had made an ineffectual start on this day, had actually left the village a few hundred yards when we were stopped by the depth of a river forty yards wide and with a current of two and a half miles an hour. The old crone called this the Ituri. Marvelling that between Ipoto and Ibwiri a river 400 yards wide could be narrowed to such a narrow stream, we had returned to Indésura for a day's halt, and I had immediately after sent Lieutenant Stairs and Mr. Jephson with sufficient escort back along yesterday's path to find a ford across the Ituri. At 4 P.M. both officers returned to report a successful discovery of a ford a mile and a half higher up the stream, and that they had set foot upon the grass-land, in proof of which they held a bunch of fine young succulent grass. Meantime, Uledi and his party had also found another ford waist deep, still nearer Indésura. On the evening of this day a happier community of men did not exist on the face of the round earth than those who rejoiced in the camp of Indésura. On the morrow they were to bid farewell to the forest. The green grassy region of which we had dreamed in our dark hours, when slumbering heavily from exhaustion of body and prostration from hunger during the days of starvation, was close at hand. Their pots contained generous supplies of juicy meat; in the messes were roast and boiled fowls, corn mush, plantain flour porridge, and ripe bananas. No wonder they were now exuberantly happy, and all except ten or twelve men were in finer condition than when they had embarked so hopefully for the journey in the port of Zanzibar. On the 4th of December we filed out of Indésura and proceeded to the ford. It was waist deep, and at this place fifty yards wide. Two of the aneroids indicated an altitude of 3050 feet above the ocean--1850 feet higher than the level of the river at the landing-place of Yambuya, and 2000 feet higher than the Congo at Stanley Pool. From the Ituri we entered a narrow belt of tall timber on its left bank, and, after waiting for the column to cross, marched on, led by Mr. Mounteney Jephson along a broad elephant track for about 600 yards, and then, to our undisguised joy, emerged upon a rolling plain, green as an English lawn, into broadest, sweetest daylight, and warm and glorious sunshine, to inhale the pure air with an uncontrollable rapture. Judging of the feelings of others by my own, we felt as if we had thrown all age and a score of years away, as we stepped with invigorated limbs upon the soft sward of young grass. We strode forward at a pace most unusual, and finally, unable to suppress our emotions, the whole caravan broke into a run. Every man's heart seemed enlarged and lifted up with boyish gladness. The blue heaven above us never seemed so spacious, lofty, pure, and serene as at this moment. We gazed at the sun itself undaunted by its glowing brightness. The young grass, only a month since the burning of the old, was caressed by a bland, soft breeze, and turned itself about as if to show us its lovely shades of tender green. Birds, so long estranged from us, sailed and soared through the lucent atmosphere; antelopes and elands stood on a grassy eminence gazing and wondering, and then bounded upward and halted snorting their surprise, to which our own was equal; buffaloes lifted their heads in amazement at the intruders on their silent domain, heaved their bulky forms, and trooped away to a safer distance. A hundred square miles of glorious country opened to our view--apparently deserted--for we had not as yet been able to search out the fine details of it. Leagues upon leagues of bright green pasture land undulated in gentle waves, intersected by narrow winding lines of umbrageous trees that filled the hollows, scores of gentle hills studded with dark clumps of thicket, graced here and there by a stately tree, lorded it over level breadths of pasture and softly sloping champaigns; and far away to the east rose some frowning ranges of mountains beyond which we were certain slept in its deep gulf the blue Albert. Until breathlessness forced a halt, the caravan had sped on the double-quick--for this was also a pleasure that had been long deferred. [Illustration: EMERGING FROM THE FOREST.] Then we halted on the crest of a commanding hill to drink the beauty of a scene to which we knew no rival, which had been the subject of our thoughts and dreams for months, and now we were made "glad according to the days wherein we had been afflicted and the period wherein we had seen evil." Every face gloated over the beauty of the landscape and reflected the secret pleasure of the heart. The men were radiant with the fulfilment of dear desires. Distrust and sullenness were now utterly banished. We were like men out of durance and the dungeon free and unfettered, having exchanged foulness and damp for sweetness and purity, darkness and gloom for divine light and wholesome air. Our eyes followed the obscure track, roved over the pasture hillocks, great and small, every bosky islet and swarded level around it, along the irregularities of the forest line that rose darkly funereal behind us, advancing here, receding there, yonder assuming a bay-like canoe, here a cape-like point. The mind grasped the minutest peculiarity around as quick as vision, to cling to it for many, many years. A score of years hence, if we live so long, let but allusion be made to this happy hour when every soul trembled with joy, and praise rose spontaneously on every lip, and we shall be able to map the whole with precision and fidelity. After examining the contour of the new region before us with the practical view of laying a course free from river or swamp, I led the Expedition N.N.E. to a rocky knoll which was about four miles from us, in order to strike the southern base of a certain hilly range that ran E. by S. from the knoll. I imagined we should then be able to travel over upland, trending easterly, without much inconvenience. We reached the base of the rock-heap that stood about 300 feet above the valley to our right, then perceiving that the obscure game track we had followed had developed into a native highway running N.E., we struck across the grassy upland to retain our hold upon the crown we had gained, the short young grass enabling us to do so without fatigue. But near noon the tall unburnt grass of last season interrupted our too-easy advance with its tangle of robust stalks of close growth; but we bore on until 12.30, and after an hour of serious exercise halted by the side of a crystal stream for refreshments. In the afternoon we breasted the opposing grassy slope, and, after an hour and a half of rapid pacing, selected a camp near the junction of two streams, which flowed south-easterly. Relieved from their burdens, a few tireless fellows set out to forage in some villages we had observed far below our line of march in the valley. The suddenness of their descent among the natives provided them with a rich store of fowls, sugar-cane, and ripe branches of bananas. They brought us specimens of the weapons of this new land: several long bows and lengthy arrows; shields of a heavy rectangular form, formed of a double row of tough rods crossed, and tightly bound together with fibre and smeared with some gummy substance. They presented very neat workmanship, and were altogether impenetrable to arrows or spears. Besides shields the natives wore vests of buffalo hide, which appeared to be quite impervious to pistol shots. Our course as far as the rocky knoll already described was nearly parallel with the edge of the forest, our path varying in distance from it from a half mile to a mile and a half. As a sea or a lake indents its shore, so appeared the view of the line of forest. The trend of the Ituri that we had crossed, which we must call West Ituri, was E.S.E.. I should have estimated the source of the river to have been distant from the crossing about 25 geographical miles N.N.W. On the next day we advanced up a long slope of short grass land, and on the crest halted to arrange the column with more order, lest we might be suddenly confronted by an overwhelming force, for we were as yet ignorant of the land, its people, and the habits of those among whom we had dropped so suddenly. Marching forward we chose a slight track that followed the crest leading E. by S., but soon all traces of it were lost. However, we were on a commanding upland, and a score of miles were visible to us in any direction out of which we might select any course. A village was in view N.E. of us, and to it we directed our steps, that we might avail ourselves of a path, for the closely-packed acreages of reedy cane and fifteen-feet-high grass, that we stumbled upon occasionally, were as bad as the undergrowth of the jungle. The very tallest and rankest grass impeded us, and prevented rapid advance. We crossed jungly gullies, on whose muddy ground were impressed the feet of lions and leopards, and finally entered a tract of acacia thorn, which was a sore annoyance, and out of this last we emerged into the millet fields of Mbiri. In a few seconds the natives were warned of our approach, and fled instinctively, and, Parthian-like, shot their long arrows. The scouts dashed across every obstacle, and seized a young woman and a lad of twelve, who were the means of instructing our poor ignorance. No long conversation could be maintained with them, owing to our very imperfect knowledge of any dialect spoken near this region, but a few names of nouns assisted by gestures brought out the fact that we were in the district of Mbiri, that the main road easterly would take us to the Babusessé country, that beyond them lay the Abunguma, all of which naturally we heard with supreme indifference. What did such names convey to dull senses and blank minds? They had never heard of Shakespeare, Milton, or even of Her Majesty the Queen. "Had any of them heard of Muta, or Luta Nzige?" A shake of the head. "Of Unyoro?" "Unyoro? Yes. Unyoro lies a great way off," pointing east. "Of a great water near Unyoro?" "The Ituri, you mean?" "No, wider; ever so much wider than the Ituri--as wide as all this plain." But instead of confining themselves to monosyllables, which we might easily have understood, the wretched woman and boy, anxious to convey too much information, smothered comprehension by voluble talk in their dialect, and so perplexed us that we had recourse to silence and patience. They would show us the way to Babusessé at least. The mode of hut construction is similar to that seen all over East and Central Africa. It is the most popular. A cone roof occupies two-thirds of the height; one-third is devoted to the height of the walls. Huts of this pattern, scattered amongst the banana groves, are found every few dozen yards. Paths lead from one to the other, and are most baffling to the stranger, who without a local guide must necessarily go astray. To every group of huts there are attached outhouses for cooking sheds, for gossip, to store fuel, and doing chores; also circular grass-walled and thatched little granaries raised a foot or so above the ground as protection against vermin and damp. Our people obtained a large quantity of ripe plantains and ripe bananas, out of which the aborigines manufacture an intoxicating wine called _marwa_. A few goats were also added to our flock, and about a dozen fowls were taken. All else were left untouched according to custom, and we resumed our journey. The path was well trodden. Traffic and travel had tamped it hard and smooth. It led S.E. by E. up and down grassy hills and vales. Near noon we halted for refreshments, shaded by fine woods, and close by boomed a loud cataract of the Ituri, we were told. This was rather puzzling. We could not understand how the Ituri, which we had forded the day before, could be roaring over precipices and terraces at this high altitude, and after we had purposely struck away from its valley to avoid it. A march of an hour and a half in the afternoon, apparently not very far from the river, brought us to the populous district of the Babusessé. The banana plantations were very extensive, reminding me of Uganda, and their deep shades covered a multitude of huts. Fields of millet and sesame, plots of sweet potatoes, occupied the outskirts of these plantations, and there was ample evidence round about that the land was thickly peopled and industriously cultivated. Before entering the banana shades we repaired our ranks, and marched in more compact order. A strong body of men armed with Winchesters formed the advance guard; a similar number of men armed with Remingtons, under the command of Stairs, closed the rear of the column. But however well cautioned the men were against breaking rank, no sooner had the advance guard passed safely through a dangerous locality than the main body invariably despatched scores of looters into huts and granaries to hunt up booty and fowls, bananas, goats, sugar-cane, and trivial articles of no earthly use. These plantations hid a large number of natives, who permitted the advance to pass because their files were unbroken, and their eyes on the watch, but those straggling looters soon gave the aborigines the opportunity. Some arrows flew well aimed; one pinned a man's arm to his side, another glancing from a rib admonished its owner of his folly. A volley from rifles drove the men away from their covert without harm to any of them. [Illustration: SHIELDS OF BABUSESSÉ.] At the easternmost settlement we camped. There were only two large conical huts and other outhouses in it, and around these the huts for the night were arranged hastily, put up with banana leaves sufficient to shed rain and dew. At dusk I called the captives to me again, and attempted, during half an hour, to gain a lucid answer to the question as to whether there was a great body of water or great river east of us. When one of the headmen who were assisting us demanded to know which was the largest Nyanza, that of Unyoro, or that of Uganda-- "Nyanza!" cried the native boy--"Nyanza? Ay, the Nyanza lies this way" (pointing east) "and extends that way" (north-east) "a long distance;" and when asked how many "sleeps" intervened between the Babusessé, held up three fingers on his dexter hand, and answered "three." It was now dark, and we were suddenly startled by a shriek of pain, and a sequent yell singularly weird, and with a note of triumph in it, and in the silence that followed we heard the hurtling of arrows through the banana leaves above our heads. "Put out the fires! Keep cool. Where are the sentries? Why are they not at their posts?" were the next words uttered. The natives had stolen on us at the very hour when the camp was least watched, for it was supper-time, and the guards, except on unusual occasions, were permitted to feed before going out on guard duty for the night. We soon ascertained that one arrow had penetrated the thigh of a man named Salim to the depth of four inches, another had pierced the roast leg of a kid before the fire, several others had perforated banana stalks. Salim, after a little coaxing, bravely drew out the shaft until the barbed point was seen, when, with a wrench, I extracted it with a pair of pincers. Eucalyptine was then applied to the wound, and the man was sent to his quarters. Half an hour later, all the guards being now on duty, however, the natives essayed another quarter of the camp, but the rifle-shots rang out quickly in reply, and there was a scamper and a rustle heard. In the distance we heard two rifles fired, and an agonised cry, by which we knew that there were some of our incorrigible looters abroad. Our force was weak enough, in all conscience, not in numbers, but in real strength, for defence and capacity for bearing ammunition, and these wanderers were always a source of great anxiety to me. It was useless to reason and expostulate; only downright severity restrained them, and as yet, so fresh were we from the horrors of the forest, that I had not the moral courage to apply the screw of discipline; but when I assumed mildness, their own heedless imprudence incurred punishments far more severe than any of us would ever have thought of inflicting. A heavy rain fell on us during the night, which detained us next morning until eight o'clock. I employed the time in extracting something intelligible respecting the character of the natives in front, but we were all so profoundly ignorant of the language that we could make but little headway. In the endeavour to make herself clear, the woman drew on the ground a sketch of the course of the Ituri. This illustrated one of the strangest facts in African geography that one could imagine. The river was represented as going up to the crest of the watershed, flowing steeply upward parallel with Lake Albert, and finally lifting itself over to be precipitated into the Nyanza! Stupefied by what she said, I kept her by me as we marched out of camp into the open. From the crown of a hill she pointed out, half a mile below, the Ituri River flowing eastward. The stretch in view was an east by south course. Now here was a deep puzzle. We had crossed from the right bank to the left bank of the Ituri two days previously, in N. Lat. 1° 24': we were now in N. Lat. 1° 28'. Yet the Ituri we saw flowed E. by S. and E.S.S., and my route to Kavalli was obviously south of east. I declined to perplex myself any more with the problem, or in trying to understand what the woman meant, that the river we had ascended for 600 miles from the Congo flowed to the Nyanza. The only solution possible was that there were two Ituris, one flowing to the Congo, the other into the Nile basin; but both she and her brother stoutly maintained that there was only one Ituri. We continued on our journey, following a path which dipped down into the valley. We presently stood on the banks of the stream, and the solution was at hand. It was the main Ituri River, flowing south of west! We are all wise after the event. There was a clumsy, misshapen canoe in the river, and as Saat Tato was an expert canoeist, he was detailed to ferry the caravan over for a reward of 20 dollars. The river was 125 yards broad, about seven feet average depth, with a current of two knots. It was a cataract of this stream whose low thunder we had heard near Mbiri. The natives of Abunguma, on the left side of the river, watched our operations from a hill-top a mile off, with an air of confidence which seemed to say, "All right, friends. When you are through, you will have to reckon with us." Nothing could be done in such an open land as this without "all the world knowing it." The Abunguma shook their spears bravely at us; the Babusessé occupied every prominent point on the right side of the river. It appeared once or twice as if our manhood was about to be tested on an important scale. There was the comfort, however, that, knowing the natives to be alert and active, we could not be surprised on a pasture slope where the grass around the camp was but three inches high. Since we had entered Ibwiri we had fared luxuriously--for Africa. We had enjoyed meat and milk daily. We had lived on fowls, young and dried beans, sugar-cane, sweet potatoes, yams, colocassia, tomatoes, brinjalls, melons, plantains, and bananas. On the people the effect was wonderful. They were men in every respect superior both in body and spirit to the gaunt and craven wretches whom the Arab slaves of Ipoto scourged and speared without more than a mild protest. On the whites also the effect had been most beneficial. Though spare, we were no longer meagre and haggard; a little wine would have completed the cure. A gentle grassy slope, on the next morning, took us, in the course of an hour, to the crown of one of those long undulations so characteristic of this region. It furnished us with another all-round view peculiarly interesting to us. Our intended direction was southeast, as we were bearing for a high conical peak at the end of a range of grass-covered mountains, which afterwards became known to us as Mazamboni's Peak. We dipped down into delightful vales, watered by cool and clear brooks. Close to these were small clusters of native homesteads, with their fields of unripe sorghum, sweet potato, and sugar-cane patches, &c. But the homesteads were all abandoned, and their owners were observing us from the sky-line of every superior hill. Finally we passed an empty cattle zeriba, the sight of which was loudly cheered, and cries of "Ay, the master is right, and every word comes to pass. First will come the grass-land, then the cattle with brave men to defend them, then hills, then the Nyanza, and lastly the white man. The grass-land we have seen, here is the cattle yard, yonder are the mountains, the brave men and the Nyanza and the white man we shall yet see, please God." We bore on our way to a valley through which another river rushed and roared. On our left was a rugged line of rocks that rose in huge and detached masses, on the top of which a dozen men might be seated comfortably. Connecting these huge rock masses was a lower line of rocks, more uniform, forming the bare spine of a ridge. At some places we passed so close to the base of this hill that we were within easy stone's throw of the summits. But though we were prepared for a demonstration, the natives remained singularly quiet. The path we followed halted at a suspension bridge across a third "Ituri," which had better be distinguished as East Ituri to prevent misunderstanding. This last river was thirty yards wide, deep and swift as a rapid. Spanned by a bridge of such fragile make that we could only pass one at a time in safety, it required one hundred and twenty seconds for a single person to cross the ninety-feet span, and the caravan was not on the other side entirely before 6 P.M. As the crossing was in a position of great disadvantage, riflemen had been on the look-out all day. In the afternoon we saw a fine black cow and her calf issue out of a defile in the rocky ridge just described, and clamours of "Beef, beef--ay, beef, how are you? we have not seen you since we were young!" rose loud. The Abunguma had hidden their cattle among the rocky hills, and these specimens had probably been refractory. [Illustration: SUSPENSION BRIDGE ACROSS THE E. ITURI.] Leaving the picturesque valley of East Ituri on the 8th, we ascended an easy slope to the top of a hill where we obtained a long view of the crooked and narrow valley of the East Ituri, and were able to observe that it came from an east-south-east direction. Shortly after, something more like a plain opened before us, extending over a score of miles to the south, bordered on the north by the stony ridge and valley we had just left behind, while to the eastward rose Mazamboni's mountain range, whose northern end, conspicuous by the tall peak, was our present objective point. At 9.30 A.M. we had approached several miles nearer this mountain range, and before descending into the valley of a streamlet flowing northward, we observed with wonder that the whole intervening space as far as the mountains was one mass of plantations, indicative of a powerful population. Here then, we thought, "will be the tug of war. The Abunguma have left their settlements in order to join this numerous tribe, and meet us with a fitting reception." No more populous settlements had been seen since we had departed from Bangala on the Congo. A suspicion that these were among the confederation of tribes who hemmed in the poor anxious governor of Equatoria also crept into our minds, as we looked upon this huge display of numbers and evidence of wealth and security. With the view of not provoking the natives, and of preventing the incorrigible looters of the column from the commission of mischief, we took a south-east track to skirt the district. We were able to steer our course between the plantations, so that no cover was afforded to an enemy. At 11.30 we had reached the eastern extremity of the district, and then rested for the noon halt and refreshment, under the shadow of a tree whose branches rustled before a strong cool breeze from the Nyanza. Resuming the march at 1 P.M. we entered the depths of banana plantations, marvelling at the great industry evinced, and the neatness of the cultivated plots. The conical homesteads were large and partitioned within, as we observed while passing through a few open doorways, by screens of cane grass. Every village was cleanly swept, as though they had been specially prepared for guests. Each banana stalk was loaded with bananas, the potato fields were extensive, the millet fields stretched away on either side by hundreds of acres, and the many granaries that had lately been erected manifested expectations of a bountiful harvest. We finally emerged from the corn-fields without being once annoyed. We thought the natives had been cowed by exaggerated reports of our power, or they had been disconcerted by our cautious manoeuvre of leaving a fair open margin between the line of march and the groves; but much to our surprise we encountered no opposition, though large masses of the aborigines covered the eminences bordering our route. The broad and well-trodden path towards the mountains which we were now rapidly approaching bisected an almost level plain, three miles wide, rich with pasture grass in flower. The Eastern Ituri was not far off on our left flank, and on the other side of it another populous settlement was in view. At 3 P.M. we arrived at the base of the Mountain of the Peak. Many of its highest points were crowned with clusters of huts. The cotes of the natives were in the folds of the mountain fronting us. The people gathered in large groups on the nearest summits, and when we were near enough the shouts of defiance were uttered with loud and strident voices. We estimated the average height of the hills nearest to us at about 800 feet above the plain, and as the slopes were particularly steep we judged their distance to be between 800 and 1000 yards from us. Much to our pleasure and relief the path, instead of ascending those steep slopes, skirted their base, and turned east, pursuing the direction we wished being now in, North Lat. 1° 25' 30". A valley unfolded to our view as we rounded the corner of the Peak Range, with a breadth of one to two miles wide, which was clothed with luxuriant sorghum ripening for the sickle. On our right, rising immediately above us, was the north side of Mazamboni's range; to our left, the ground, hidden by crops of grain, sloped gradually to a rapid branch of the East Ituri, and beyond it rose, an easy slope to a broad horse-shoe shaped grassy ridge, studded with homesteads, green with millet and corn, and rich in banana groves. One sweeping view of our surroundings impressed us with the prosperity of the tribe. [Illustration: OUR FIRST EXPERIENCES WITH MAZAMBONI'S PEOPLE. VIEW FROM NZERA KUM HILL.] On entering this rich crop-bearing valley a chorus of war-cries pealing menacingly above our heads caused us to look up. The groups had already become more numerous, until there were probably 300 warriors with shield, spear, and bow, shaking their flashing weapons, gesturing with shield and spear, crying wrathfully at us in some language. Waxing more ungovernable in action they made a demonstration to descend; they altered their intentions, returned to the summit, and kept pace with us--we along the base, they along the crest of the fore hills, snarling and yelling, shouting and threatening, which we took to be expressive of hate to us, and encouragement to those in the valley. Issuing out of the first series of cornfields, we heard the war-cries of the valley natives, and comprehended that they were taking position in favourable localities--the hill natives warning and guiding them. It was now near 4 P.M., a time to pick out camp, to make ready for the night in the midst of a population overwhelming in its numbers. Fortunately, close at hand rose the steep hill of Nzera-Kum with a spur, whose level top rose a hundred feet above the general face of the valley. It stood like an islet in the valley, distant from the river 500 yards, and from the base of Mazamboni's range 200 yards. From the crest of Nzera-Kum we could command a view east and west of all the northern face of the high range, and away over the summit lines of the horse-shoe ridge, across the Ituri branch. Fifty rifles could hold a camp on such a position against a thousand. We hurried up towards it, the warriors on the range slopes converging downward as if divining our intentions; a mass of noisy belligerents hastening towards the line of march from the river banks. The scouts in the advance fired a few solitary shots to clear the front, and we succeeded in reaching the islet hill and scrambled up. The loads were thrown down, a few picked skirmishers were ordered to either flank of the column to assist the rear-guard, others were directed to form a zeriba around the crown of the spur; a body of thirty men was sent to secure water from the river. In half an hour the column was safe on the hill, the zeriba was near completion, there was water for the thirsty, and we had a few minutes to draw breath and to observe from our commanding elevation what were our surroundings. The bird's-eye view was not a bit encouraging. About fifty villages were sprinkled through the valley; plantation after plantation, field after field, village after village met our vision in every direction. What lay on the mountains we did not know. The swarms of lusty-voiced natives on the slopes now numbered over 800. The air seemed filled with the uproar of the shouts. The mountaineers appeared disposed to try conclusions at once. We were fatigued with the march of 13 miles; the hot sun and weight of burdens had weakened the physical powers of the men. Some of the best, however, were picked out and sent to meet the mountaineers, while we stood and watched to weigh the temper of our opponents. Four of the scouts were foremost. An equal number of the mountaineers, not a whit loth for the encounter, bounded gallantly to meet them. They intuitively felt that the courage of our four men was not of the highest order. They approached to within 100 yards of them, and prepared their bows against the rifles. Our men delivered their fire harmlessly, and then backed; the mountaineers advanced, with fingers on their bow-strings. Our four men fled, while a hundred voices from our camp, looking down upon the scene, execrated them. This was a bad beginning for our side; the natives accepted it as a favourable omen to them, and yelled triumphantly. To check this glow, our riflemen sought cover, and seriously annoyed the natives. Some at the extremity of the hill of Nzera-Kum did execution among the mountaineers on the slope of the range opposite, at 400 yards distance; others crept down into the valley towards the river, and obtained a triumph for us; others, again, working round the base of Nzera-Kum, effected a diversion in our favour. Saat Tato, our hunter, carried away a cow from her owners, and we thus obtained a taste of beef after eleven months' abstinence. As night fell, natives and strangers sought their respective quarters, both anticipating a busy day on the morrow. Before turning in for the night, I resumed my reading of the Bible as usual. I had already read the book through from beginning to end once, and was now at Deuteronomy for the second reading, and I came unto the verse wherein Moses exhorts Joshua in those fine lines, "Be strong and of a good courage; fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, He it is that doth go with thee; He will not fail thee, nor forsake thee." I continued my reading, and at the end of the chapter closed the book, and from Moses my mind travelled at once to Mazamboni. Was it great fatigue, incipient ague, or an admonitory symptom of ailment, or a shade of spiteful feeling against our cowardly four, and a vague sense of distrust that at some critical time my loons would fly? We certainly were in the presence of people very different from the forest natives. In open our men had not been tested as they were to-day, and what my officers and self had seen of them was not encouraging. At any rate, my mind was occupied with a keener sense of the danger incurred by us in adventuring with such a small force of cowardly porters to confront the tribes of the grass land than I remember it on any previous occasion. It seemed to me now that I had a more thorough grasp of what might be expected. Whether it followed a larger visual view of land and population, or that I was impressed by the volume of human voices, whose uproar yet seemed to sound in my ears, I know not. But a voice appeared to say, "Be strong and of a good courage: fear not, nor be afraid of them." I could almost have sworn I heard the voice. I began to argue with it. Why do you adjure me to abandon the Mission? I cannot run if I would. To retreat would be far more fatal than advance; therefore your encouragement is unnecessary. It replied, nevertheless, "Be strong and of a good courage. Advance, and be confident, for I will give this people and this land unto thee. I will not fail thee nor forsake thee; fear not, nor be dismayed." Still--all this in strict confidence--before I slept I may add that though I certainly never felt fitter for a fight, it struck me, that both sides were remarkably foolish, and about to engage in what I conceived to be an unnecessary contest. We did not know even the name of the land or of the people, and they were equally ignorant of our name and of our purpose and motives. I sketched out my plans for the morrow, adjured the sentries to keep strict watch, and in sleep became soon oblivious of this Mazamboni--lord of the mountains and plains. December 9th was a halt. In the morning we completed our thorn-bush fence, distributed cartridges, and examined rifles. By 9 o'clock the chill of early day retired before the warmth of a hot sun, and shortly after the natives mustered in imposing numbers. War-horns, with the weird notes heard in Usoga and Uganda in 1875, sounded the gathering, and over twenty drums boomed from each mountain top. There were shouts and cries flying in currents from mountain to valley, and back again, for we were quite surrounded. About 11 a.m. some few natives descended close enough for one Fetteh, a man of Unyoro, to distinguish what was said, and he exchanged a hot abuse with them, until there was quite a wordy war. Hearing that one of our people understood the language, I directed the wrathful tongues in the interests of peace, and a more amicable language resulted. "We on our side," was said, "only fight in defence. You assail us while quietly passing through the land. Would it not be better to talk to each other, and try to understand one another first, and then, if we cannot agree, fight." "True, those are wise words," a man replied. "Tell us who you are. Where you are from, and where you are going." "We are of Zanzibar, from the sea, and our chief is a white man. We are bound for the Nyanza of Unyoro." "If you have a white man with you, let us see him, and we shall believe you." Lieutenant Stairs promptly stepped out of the zeriba and was introduced by Fetteh. "Now you tell us who you are," said Fetteh. "What land is this? Who is your chief? And how far is the Nyanza?" "This land is Undussuma, the chief is Mazamboni. We are Wazamboni. The Ruweru (Nyanza) is reached in two days. It will take you five days. It lies east. There is only one road, and you cannot miss it." This began the exchange of friendly intercourse. Strangerhood was broken. We then learned that there were two chiefs in Undussuma, one of whom would not be averse to peace, and exchange of friendly gifts, if it were agreeable to us. We gladly assented, and several hours were passed without a hostile cry being heard, or a shot fired, except at the river, the natives on whose shores were obstinate, and declined listening to anything but war proposals. In the afternoon a message came from Mazamboni saying he would like to see the pattern and quality of our monies. We sent two yards of scarlet uniform cloth, and a dozen brass rods, and a promise was given that early next morning the chief himself would appear and go through the ceremony of brotherhood with me. The next day we were refreshed after an undisturbed night, and fondly indulged in anticipations that in a few hours, perhaps, our camp would be filled with friendly natives. We had been requested not to depart until a return gift should arrive from Mazamboni. We accordingly had resolved on another day's halt. The morning was still raw and cold, for we were 4,235 feet above the sea. A mist covered the tall mountain tops, and a slight drizzle had set in, which excused our friends from a too early appearance; but at the third hour the mist cleared away, and the outline of the entire range was clear against a pale blue sky. Lieutenant Stairs, Mr. Jephson, and myself, were out at the extreme west end of the spur enjoying the splendid view, admiring the scenery, and wondering when such a beautiful land would become the homesteads of civilized settlers. Stairs thought that it resembled New Zealand, and said that he would not mind possessing a ranche here. He actually went so far as to locate it, and pointed out the most desirable spot. "On that little hill I would build my house"--"Shebang" he called it. I wonder if that is a New Zealand term for a villa--"There I would herd my cattle; my sheep could browse on the mountain slope behind, and----" But meantime the natives had appeared on the crests of the mountain in lengthy columns, converging towards a common centre--a butt end of a truncated hill--a thousand yards in an air line from where we stood, and a voice like that of a mob orator, clear and harmonious, broke on our ear. It proceeded from a man who, with a few companions, had descended to about 300 feet above the valley. He was ten minutes speaking, and Fetteh had been brought to listen and translate. Fetteh said that he commanded peace in the name of the king; but strange to say, no sooner had the man concluded his speech than loud, responsive yells rose from the valley in a hideous and savage clamour, and then from every mountain top, and from the slopes there was a re-echo of the savage outburst. We surmised that such forceful yelling could not signal a peace, but rather war; and in order to make sure, sent Fetteh down into the valley below the speaker to ask him. The replies from the natives left us no room to doubt. The two sounds--Kanwana, "peace," and Kurwana, "war," were so similar that they had occasioned Fetteh's error. "We do not want your friendship," they cried. "We are coming down to you shortly to drive you out of your camp with our herdsmen's staffs." And a treacherous fellow, who had crawled under cover of low bush, came near causing us a severe loss--our interpreter especially having an exceedingly narrow escape. Fetteh picked up the arrows and brought them to us, and delivered his news. There was then no alternative but to inflict an exemplary lesson upon them; and we prepared to carry it out without losing a moment of time, and with the utmost vigour, unless checked by proffers of amity. The companies were mustered, and fifty rifles were led out by Lieutenant Stairs towards those obstinate and fierce fellows on the other side of the Ituri branch. A party of thirty rifles were sent under Mr. Jephson to skirmish up the slopes to the left; and twenty picked men were sent with Uledi to make a demonstration to the right. Rashid was ordered with ten men to the top of Nzera-Kum to guard against surprise from that quarter. Jephson and Uledi would be marching to their positions unobserved by the mountaineers, because the crowns of the forehills would obstruct the view, and would approach to them within 200 yards without being seen, while Lieutenant Stairs' company, being further out in the valley, would absorb their attention. In a few minutes Stairs' company was hotly engaged. The natives received our men with cool determination for a few minutes, and shot their arrows in literal showers; but the Lieutenant, perceiving that their coolness rose from the knowledge that there was a considerable stream intervening between them and his company, cheered his men to charge across the river. His men obeyed him, and as they ascended the opposite bank opened a withering fire which in a few seconds broke up the nest of refractory and turbulent fellows who had cried out so loudly for war. The village was taken with a rush and the banana plantations scoured. The natives broke out into the open on a run, and fled far northward. Lieutenant Stairs then collected his men, set fire to the village, and proceeded to the assault of other settlements, rattling volleys from the company announcing the resistance they met. Meanwhile, Uledi's party of chosen men had discovered a path leading up the mountain along a spur, and after ascending 500 feet, led his men up into view on the right flank of the mob observing and cheering their countrymen in the valley. The Winchesters were worked most handsomely. At the same time Mr. Jephson's party came out of the left ravine, and together they had such a disastrous effect on the nerves of the natives that they fled furiously up the slopes, Uledi and his men chasing them. Mr. Jephson, after seeing them in full flight, faced eastward, and pushed on for two miles, clearing every inhabitant out. By 1 P.M. all our men were in camp, with only one man slightly wounded. Every man had behaved wonderfully well; even the four cowards, who had been marked men, had distinguished themselves. At 2 P.M., the natives in the valley having returned, each party was despatched once again. Stairs led his men across the Ituri branch, and followed the running fugitives far northward, then veered sharply round to join Jephson, who had continued his way eastward. Uledi's scouts were sent up to the very summit of the mountain range; but on observing the immense number of homesteads that dotted it, he prudently halted. Until the afternoon the contest continued; the natives were constantly on the run, charging or retreating. By evening not one was in sight, and the silence around our camp was significant of the day's doings. The inhabitants were on the mountains or far removed eastward and northward. In the valley around us there was not a hut left standing to be a cover during the night. The lesson, we felt, was not completed. We should have to return by that route. In the natural course of things, if we met many tribes of the quality of this, we should lose many men, and if we left them in the least doubt of our ability to protect ourselves, we should have to repeat our day's work. It was, therefore, far more merciful to finish the affair thoroughly before leaving a tribe in unwhipped insolence in our rear. The natives must have entertained an idea that we could not fight outside our bush fence, which accounts for their tall talk of driving us out with sticks, and that they were safe on the mountains. We were compelled to root out the idea that they could harm us in any way. A cow neglected by her owner was burnt in one of the villages close by, and furnished us with a second limited ration of roast beef. On the 11th it rained again during the early morning, which kept us indoors until 10 A.M. Some natives having then come out to demonstrate their hostility on the mountains, Stairs, Jephson and Uledi led their men up the mountain slopes in three separate small columns to the attack, and made a successful tour among their stronghold. A small flock of goats was captured, and distributed to the men, and our experiences of this day satisfied the natives that they had nothing to gain by fighting. [Illustration: SHIELD OF THE EDGE OF THE PLAINS.] At one time it appeared as day would end with reconciliation, for a native stood on a high hill above our position after all had reached camp, and announced that he had been sent by Mazamboni to say that he received our gifts, but that he had been prevented from visiting us according to promise by the clamour of his young men, who insisted on fighting. But now, as many of them had been killed, he was ready to pay tribute, and be a true friend in future. We replied that we were agreeable to peace and friendship with them, but as they had mocked us, kept our peace presents, and then scornfully called us women, they must purchase peace with cattle or goats, and if they held up grass in their hands they could approach without fear. It should be mentioned that when the warriors descended the mountain slopes for the fight, every little squad of men was accompanied by a large hound, of somewhat slender build, but courageous, and prompt to attack. The arms of the Wazamboni consisted of long bows five and a half feet long, and arrows twenty-eight inches long, besides a long sharp spear. Their shields were long and narrow generally, but there were many of the true Uganda type. The arrows were cruelly barbed, and the spear was similar to that of Karagwé, Uhha, Urundi, and Ihangiro. [Illustration: VIEW OF THE SOUTH END OF ALBERT NYANZA. (_See page 306._)] CHAPTER XII. ARRIVAL AT LAKE ALBERT, AND OUR RETURN TO IBWIRI. We are further annoyed by the natives--Their villages fired--Gavira's village--We keep the natives at bay--Plateau of Unyoro in view--Night attack by the natives--The village of Katonza's--Parley with the natives--No news of the Pasha--Our supply of cartridges--We consider our position--Lieutenant Stairs converses with the people of Kasenya Island--The only sensible course left us--Again attacked by natives--Scenery on the lake's shore--We climb a mountain--A rich discovery of grain--The rich valley of Undussuma--Our return journey to Ibwiri--The construction of Fort Bodo. On the 12th December we left camp at dawn without disturbance, or hearing a single voice, and up to 9 A.M. it did not appear as if anybody was astir throughout the valley. Our road led E. by S. and dipped down into ravines, and narrow valleys, down which its tributaries from the mountain range and its many gorges flowed under depths of jungle, bush, and reed-cane. Villages were seen nestling amid abundance, and we left them unmolested in the hope that the wild people might read that when left alone we were an extremely inoffensive band of men. But at nine o'clock, the chill of the morning having disappeared, we heard the first war-cries, and traced them to a large group of villages that crowned a detached line of hills occupying the foreground of the Undussuma range. Perceiving that we continued our march without appearing to notice them, they advanced boldly and hovered on our right flank and rear. By 11 A.M. there were two separate bands of natives who followed us very persistently. One had come from the eastward, the other was formed out of the population of the villages in the valley that we had left undamaged and intact. By noon these bands had increased into numerous and frantic mobs, and some of them cried out, "We will prove to you before night that we are men, and every one of you shall perish to-day." At this hour, refreshed by our halt, we resumed the march through a grassy wilderness. There were no villages in view on either hand, but the mobs followed us, now and then making demonstrations, and annoying us with their harsh cries and menaces. An expert shot left the line of march, and wounded two of them at a range of 400 yards. This silenced them for awhile, as though they were absorbed in wondering what missile could inflict injuries at such a distance. But soon their numbers received fresh accessions, and their audacity became more marked. The rear-guard band presently were heard firing, and possibly with effect; at any rate it was clear they had received a check. Finally, at 3.30, we came in view of the Bavira villages--the chief of whom is called Gavira--situated on an open plain and occupying both banks of a deep and precipitous ravine hollowed out of the clay by a considerable tributary of the East Ituri. We in the front halted on the eastern bank, as the natives--too tardy to effect anything--came rushing down to prevent the crossing. Loads were at once dropped, skirmishers were despatched from the advance to recross the river, and to assist the rear guard, and a smart scene of battle-play occurred, at the end of which the natives retreated on the full run. To punish them for four hours' persecution of us we turned about and set fire to every hut on either bank, then reforming we hastened up a steep hilly plateau, that rose 200 feet above the plain, to meet the natives who had gathered to oppose us. Long, however, before we could reach the summit they abandoned their position and left us to occupy a village in peace. It being now a late hour we camped, and our first duty was to render our quarters safe against a night attack. It should be observed that up to the moment of firing the villages, the fury of the natives seemed to be increasing, but the instant the flames were seen devouring their homes the fury ceased, by which we learned that fire had a remarkable sedative influence on their nerves. The village of Gavira's, wherein we slept that night, was 4,657 feet above the sea. It had been a fine day for travel, and a S.E. breeze was most cooling. Without it we should have suffered from the great heat. As the sun set it became very cold; by midnight the temperature was 60°. We had travelled nine miles, and mostly all complained of fatigue from the marching and constant excitement. On the 13th we set off easterly a little after dawn, in order that we might cover some distance before the aborigines ventured out into the cold raw air of the morning. The short pasture grass was beaded with dew, and wet as with rain. The rear guard, after disarranging our night defences that the natives might not understand the manner of them, soon overtook us, and we left the district in compact order ready for fresh adventures. Until the third hour of the morning we were permitted to travel amid scenes of peaceful stillness. We enjoyed the prospects, had time to note the features of the great plain north of East Ituri, and to admire the multitude of hilly cones that bounded the northern horizon, to observe how the lines of conical hills massed themselves into a solid and unbroken front to the east and west; how to the south of us the surface of the land was a series of great waves every hollow of which had its own particular stream; and how, about five miles off, the mountain range continued from Undussuma East to the Balegga country, whose summits we knew so well, formed itself into baylike curves wherein numerous settlements found water and sweet grass for their cattle and moisture for their millet fields, and finally prolonged itself, rounding northward until its extremity stood east of us. Hence we observed that the direction we travelled would take us before many hours between the northern and southern ranges, to the top of a saddle that appeared to connect them. A group of villages situated on the skyline of this saddle was our objective point at present, until we could take further bearings thence. But at 9 A.M. the natives began to stir and look around. Every feature of the wide landscape being then free from mist and fog. Our long serpent-like line of men was soon detected and hailed with war-cries, uttered with splendid force of lungs, that drew hundreds of hostile eyes burning with ferocity and hate upon us. Village after village was passed by us untouched, but this, as we experienced the day before, they did not place to our credit, but rather debited us with pusillanimity, all reports of their neighbours notwithstanding. We felt it in our veins that we were being charged with weakness. A crowd of fifty natives stood aside, 300 yards from our path, observant of our conduct. They saw us defile through their settlements with kindly regard for their property, and eyes fixed straight before us, intent on our own business of travel only. Far from accepting this as a proof that there was some virtue in us, they closed behind the column, loudly and imperiously summoned their countrymen to gather together and surround us--a call their countrymen appeared only too willing to obey. As soon as they deemed their numbers strong enough to take the offensive, they charged on the rear guard, which act was instantly responded to by good practice with rifles. Every half-hour there was a stream at the bottom of its own valley, and a breadth of cane-brake on either side of the brook, which required great caution to keep the impulsive natives at bay. That group of villages on the skyline already mentioned, connecting the now converging lines of hills to north and south of us, became more and more distinct as we steadily pressed on eastward, and I began to feel a presentiment that before another hour was passed, we should see the Albert Nyanza. But as though there was some great treasure in our front, or as if Emin Pasha and his garrison found himself in the position of Gordon during his last hours at Khartoum, and these were the beleaguering hosts, the natives waxed bolder and more determined, increased in numbers faster, the war-cries were incessantly vociferated from every eminence, groups of men became mobs, and finally we became conscious that a supreme effort was about to be made by them. We cast our eyes about and saw each elevation black with masses of men, while the broad and rolling plain showed lines of figures, like armies of ants travelling towards us. At 11 A.M. we were near the crest of the last ridge intervening between us and the saddle which we were aiming for, when we caught a view of a small army advancing along a road, which, if continued, would soon cross our track on the other side of the stream that issued from this ridge. The attacking point I felt sure would be a knoll above the source of the stream. The advance guard was about a hundred yards from it, and these were ordered when abreast of the knoll to wheel sharply to the right, and stack goods on its summit, and the word was passed to close files. As we arrived at the summit of the knoll, the head of the native army, streaming thickly, was at the foot of it on the other side, and without an instant's hesitation both sides began the contest simultaneously, but the rapid fire of the Winchesters was altogether too much for them, for, great as was the power of the united voices, the noise of the Winchesters deafened and confused them, while the fierce hissing of the storm of bullets paralysed the bravest. The advance guard rushed down the slopes towards them, and in a few seconds the natives turned their backs and bounded away with the speed of antelopes. Our men pursued them for about a mile, but returned at the recall, a summons they obeyed with the precision of soldiers at a review, which pleased me more even than the gallantry they had displayed. The greatest danger in reality with half-disciplined men is the inclination to follow the chase, without regard to the design the enemy may have in view by sudden flight. It frequently happens that the retreat is effected for a ruse, and is often practised in Uganda. On this occasion forty men were chasing 500, while 1,500 natives at least were certainly surveying the field on a hill to the right of us, and a similar number was posted to the left of us. Again we re-formed our ranks, and marched forward in close order as before, but at 12.30 halted for refreshments, with a pretty wide circle around us now, clear of noisy and yelling natives. Our noon halt permitted them to collect their faculties, but though they were undoubtedly sobered by the events of the morning they still threatened us with imposing numbers of the Balegga, Bavira, and Wabiassi tribes. After an hour's rest the line of march was resumed. We found an exceedingly well-trodden path, and that it was appreciated was evident from the rapid and elastic tread of the column. Within fifteen minutes we gained the brow of the saddle, or rather plateau, as it turned out to be, and, about twenty-five miles away, we saw a dark blue and uniform line of table-land, lifted up into the clouds and appearing portentously lofty. The men vented a murmur of discontented surprise at the sight of it. I knew it was Unyoro, that between us and that great and blue table-land was an immense and deep gulf, and that at the bottom of this gulf was the Albert. For there seemed to be nothing else before us, neither hill, ridge, or elevation, but that distant immense dark blue mass; the eastern slopes of the northern and southern ranges dipped down steeply as it were into a gulf or profoundly deep valley. Our people, on viewing the plateau of Unyoro in the distance, cried out in a vexed manner "Mashallah! but this Nyanza keeps going further and further away from us;" but I cheered them up with, "Keep your eyes open, boys! You may see the Nyanza any minute now," which remark, like many others tending to encourage them, was received with grunts of unbelief. But every step we now took proved that we were approaching an unusually deep valley, or the Nyanza, for higher and higher rose the Unyoro plateau into view, lower and lower descended the slopes on either hand of our road, until at last all eyes rested on a grey cloud, or what is it, mist? Nay, it is the Nyanza sleeping in the haze, for, looking to the north-eastward it was the colour of the ocean. The men gazed upon the lake fully two minutes before they realized that what they looked upon was water, and then they relieved their feelings with cheers and enthusiastic shouts. [Illustration: THE SOUTH END OF THE ALBERT NYANZA, DEC. 13, 1887.] We continued our pace a few minutes longer, until we stood on the verge of the descent from the plateau, and near a small village perched on this exposed situation we made a short halt to take bearings, inspect aneroids, and reflect a little upon our next step. Though the people were shouting and dancing, and thronging around me with congratulations for having "hit the exact spot so well," a chill came over me, as I thought of the very slight chance there was, in such a country as this, of finding a canoe fit to navigate the rough waters of the Albert. With my glass I scrutinized anxiously the distant shore of the Lake, but I could not see any canoe, neither could I see a single tree in all the long stretch of slope and extended plain of a size suitable for a canoe, and the thought that, after all, our forced march and continual fighting and sacrifice of life would be in vain, struck me for the first time, even while upon every man's lips was the pious ejaculation, "Thank God." And yet it was just possible we might be able to buy a canoe with brass rods and some red cloth. It would be too hard if our long travels hither were to be quite in vain. The scene I looked upon was very different to what I had anticipated. I had circumnavigated the Victoria Nyanza and the Tanganika, and I had viewed the Muta Nzigé from a plateau somewhat similar to this, and canoes were procurable on either Lake; and on the Victoria and Tanganika it would not be difficult, after a little search, to find a tree large enough for cutting out a canoe. But I saw here about twenty miles of most barren slopes, rugged with great rocks, and furrowed with steep ravines and watercourses, whose banks showed a thin fringe of miserable bush, and between them were steeply descending sharp and long spurs, either covered with rocky and clayey débris or tall green grass. Between the base of this lengthy fall of slope and the Lake was a plain about five or six miles in breadth, and about twenty miles long, most pleasant to look upon from the great altitude we were on. It resembled a well-wooded park land, but the trees spread out their branches too broadly to possess the desirable stems. They appeared to me to be more like acacia, and thorn-trees and scrub, which would be utterly useless for our purpose. Our aneroids indicated an altitude of 5,000 feet. The islet marked on Mason's chart as near Kavalli bore E.S.E., magnetic, about six miles from our position. Laying Colonel Mason's chart of the Albert Nyanza before us, we compared it with what was spread so largely and grandly over 2,500 feet below us, and we were forced to bear witness to the remarkable accuracy of his survey. Here and there some trifling islets and two or three small inlets of the Lake into that singular sunken plain which formed the boundary of the Lake as its southerly extremity were observed as omissions. I had often wondered at Sir Samuel Baker's description of the Albert Nyanza's extension towards the southwest, perhaps oftener after Colonel Mason's mysteriously brusque way of circumscribing its "illimitability," but I can feel pure sympathy with the discoverer now, despite the terrible "cutting off" to which it has been subjected. For the effect upon all of us could not have been greater if the Albert stretched to Khartoum. Whether limited or unlimited, the first view of water and mountain is noble, and even inspiring. Even at its extremity the Lake has a spacious breadth, but as we follow the lines of its mountain banks the breadth widens grandly, the silver colour of its shallow head soon changes into the deep azure of ocean, the continuing expanding breadth, immense girdle of mountains and pale sky, lose their outlines, and become fused into an indefinite blueness at the sea-horizon north-eastward, through which we may vainly seek a limit. Our point of observation was in N. Lat. 1°. 23'.00". The extreme end of the eastern end of the lake bore S.E. magnetic, and the extreme western end bore S.E. and S.E. by S. Between the two extremities there were five inlets, one of which reached two miles further south than any of those observed points. The table-land of Unyoro maintained an almost uniform level as far as we could see, its terminable point being cut off from view by a large shoulder of mountain, that thrust itself forward from the western range. Southward of the lake and between these opposing heights--that of the table-land of Unyoro on the east, and that of the table-land on the west--extended a low plain which formerly, but not recently, must have been inundated by the waters of the lake, but now was dry firm ground, clothed with sere grass, gently rising as it receded south, and finally producing scrubby wood, acacia and thorn, like the terrace directly below us. After a halt of about twenty minutes, we commenced the descent down the slopes of the range. Before the rear-guard under Lieutenant Stairs had left the spot, the natives had gathered in numbers equal to our own, and before the advance had descended 500 feet, they had begun to annoy the rear-guard in a manner that soon provoked a steady firing. We below could see them spread out like skirmishers on both flanks, and hanging to the rear in a long line up the terribly steep and galling path. While they shot their arrows, and crept nearer to their intended victims, they cried, "_Ku-la-la heh lelo?_"--"Where will you sleep to-night? don't you know you are surrounded? We have you now where we wanted you." Our men were not a whit slow in replying, "Wherever we sleep, you will not dare come near; and if you have got us where you wanted us to be, why not come on at once?" Though the firing was brisk, there was but little hurt done; the ground was adverse to steadiness, and on our side only one was wounded with an arrow, but the combat kept both sides lively and active. Had we been unburdened and fresh, very few of these pestilent fellows would have lived to climb that mountain again. The descent was continued for three hours, halting every fifteen minutes to repel the natives, who, to the number of forty, or thereabouts, followed us down to the plain. Half a mile from the base of the mountain we crossed a slightly saline stream, which had hollowed a deep channel, banked by precipitous and in some places perpendicular walls of débris 50 feet high, on either side. On the edge of one of these latter walls we formed a camp, the half of a circle being thus unassailable; the other half we soon made secure with brushwood and material from an abandoned village close by. Having observed that the daring natives had descended into the plain, and knowing their object to be a night attack, a chain of sentries were posted at a distance from the camp, who were well hidden by the grass. An hour after dark the attack was made by the band of natives, who, trying one point after another, were exceedingly surprised to receive a fusilade from one end of the half circle to the other. This ended a troublous day, and the rest we now sought was well earned. Inspecting the aneroid on reaching the camping-place, we discovered that we had made a descent of 2,250 feet since we had left our post of observation on the verge of the plateau above. On the 14th we left the base of the plateau, and marched across the plain that gently sloped for 5 miles to the lake. As we travelled on, we examined closely if among the thin forest of acacia any tree would likely be available for a canoe; but the plain was destitute of all but acacia, thorn-bush, tamarind, and scrub--a proof that the soil, though sufficiently rich for the hardier trees, had enough acrid properties--nitre, alkali, or salts--to prevent the growth of tropical vegetation. We, however, trusted that we should be enabled to induce the natives to part with a canoe, or, as was more likely, probably Emin Pasha had visited the south end of the lake, according to my request, and had made arrangements with the natives for our reception. If not, why ultimately perhaps we should have legitimate excuse for taking a temporary loan of a canoe. About a mile and a half from the lake we heard some natives cutting fuel in a scrubby wood, not far from the road. We halted, and maintained silence while the interpreter attempted to obtain a reply to his friendly hail. For ten minutes we remained perfectly still, waiting until the person, who proved to be a woman, deigned to answer. Then, for the first time in Africa, I heard as gross and obscene abuse as the traditional fishwoman of Billingsgate is supposed to be capable of uttering. We were obliged to desist from the task of conciliating such an unwomanly virago. We sent the interpreter ahead with a few men to the village at the lake side, which belonged to a chief called Katonza, and sometimes Kaiya Nkondo, with instructions to employ the utmost art possible to gain the confidence of the inhabitants, and by no means to admit rebuff by words or threats, hostile action only to be accepted as an excuse for withdrawal. We, in the meantime, were to follow slowly, and then halt until summoned, close to the settlement. The villagers were discovered totally unconscious of our approach and neighbourhood. Their first impulse, on seeing our men, was to fly; but, observing that they were not pursued, they took position on an anthill at an arrow-flight's distance, more out of curiosity than goodwill. Perceiving that our men were obliging, polite, and altogether harmless, they sanctioned the approach of the caravan, and on seeing a white man they were induced to advance near, while assurances of friendliness were being assiduously reiterated. About forty natives mustered courage to draw near for easy parley, and then harangues and counter-harangues, from one side to the other, one party vowing by their lives, by the love of their throats, by the blue sky above, that no harm was intended or evil meditated--that only friendship and goodwill were sought, for which due gifts would be given, the other averring that though their hesitation might be misjudged, and possibly attributed to fear, still they had met--often met--a people called the Wara-Sura, armed with guns like ours, who simply killed people. Perhaps, after all, we were Wara-Sura, or their friends, for we had guns also, in which case they were quite ready to fight the instant they were assured we were Wara-Sura or their allies. "Wara-Sura! Wara-Sura! What men are these? We never heard of the name before. Whence are they?" &c., &c., and so on unceasingly for three mortal hours in the hot sun. Our cajolings and our winsomest smiles began to appear of effect, but they suddenly assumed moodiness, and expressed their suspicion in the harsh, rasping language of Unyoro, which grated horribly on the hearing. In the end our effort was a complete failure. We had, unknown to ourselves, incurred their suspicion by speaking too kindly of Unyoro and of Kabba Rega, who, we found later, was their mortal enemy. They would not accept our friendship, nor make blood-brotherhood, nor accept even a gift. They would give us water to drink, and they would show the path along the lake. "You seek a white man, you say. We hear there is one at Kabba Rega's (Casati). Many, many years ago a white man came from the north in a smoke-boat (Mason Bey), but he went away, but that was when we were children. There has been no strange boat on our waters since. We hear of strange people being at Buswa (Mswa), but that is a long way from here. There northward along the lake lies your way. All the wicked people come from there. We never heard any good of men who came in from the Ituri either. The Wara-Sura sometimes come from there." They condescended to show us the path leading along the shore of the lake, and then stood aside on the plain, bidding us, in not unfriendly tones, to take heed of ourselves, but not a single article for their service would they accept. Wondering at their extraordinary manner, and without a single legitimate excuse to quarrel with them, we proceeded on our way meditatively, with most unhappy feelings. Pondering upon the strange dead stop to that hopefulness which had hitherto animated us, it struck us that a more heartless outlook never confronted an explorer in wild Africa than that which was now so abruptly revealed to us. From the date of leaving England, January 21, 1887, to this date of 14th December, it never dawned on us that at the very goal we might be baffled so completely as we were now. There was only one comfort, however, in all this; there was henceforward no incertitude. We had hoped to have met news of the Pasha here. A governor of a province, with two steamers, life-boats, and canoes, and thousands of people we had imagined would have been known everywhere on such a small lake as the Albert, which required only two days' steaming from end to end. He could not, or he would not, leave Wadelai, or he knew nothing yet of our coming.[J] When compelled through excess of weakness to leave our steel boat at Ipoto, we had hoped one of three things: either that the Pasha, warned by me of my coming, would have prepared the natives for our appearance, or that we could purchase or make a canoe of our own. The Pasha had never visited the south end of the lake; there was no canoe to be obtained, nor was there any tree out of which one could be made. Since we had entered the grass land we had expended five cases of cartridges. There remained forty-seven cases with us, besides those at Ipoto in charge of Captain Nelson and Dr. Parke. Wadelai was distant twenty-five days' journey by land, though it was only four by lake. If we travelled northward by land, it was most likely we should expend twenty-five cases in fighting to reach Wadelai, assuming that the tribes were similar to those in the south. On reaching Emin Pasha we should then have only twenty-two left. If we then left twelve cases only with him, we should have only ten to return by a route upon which we had fired thirty cases. Ten cases would be quite as an inadequate supply for us as twelve would be for Emin. This was a mental review of our position as we trudged northward along the shore of the Albert. But hoping that at Kasenya Island, to which we were wending, we might be able to obtain a canoe, I resolved upon nothing except to search for a vessel of some kind for a couple of days, and failing that, discuss the question frankly with my companions. At our noon halt, a few miles north of Katonza's, the first note of retreat was sounded. The officers were both shocked and grieved. "Ah, gentlemen," said I, "do not look so. You will make my own regrets greater. Let us look the facts fairly in the face. If the island of Kasenya has no canoe to give us, we must retrace our tracks; there is no help for it. We will devote to-day and to-morrow to the search, but we are then face to face with starvation if we linger longer in this deserted plain. There is no cultivation on this acrid lake terrace, nothing nearer than the plateau. Our principal hope was in Emin Pasha. I thought that he could make a short visit in his steamers to this end of the lake, and would tell the natives that he expected friends to come from the west. What has become of him, or why lie could not reach here, we cannot say. But Katonza's villagers told us that they had never seen a steamer or a white man since Mason Bey was here. They have heard that Casati is in Unyoro. Without a boat it means a month's journey to us to find him." "There is but one way besides retreating that appears feasible to me, and that is by seizing upon some village on the lake shore, and build an entrenched camp, and wait events--say, for the news to reach Unyoro, or Wadelai, or Kabba Rega; and Casati, Emin, or the Unyoro king may become curious enough to send to discover who we are. But there is the food question. These lake villagers do not cultivate. They catch fish and make salt to sell to the people on the plateau for grain. We should have to forage, ascending and descending daily that dreadful mountain slope. For a week or so the natives of the plateau might resist every foraging party, but finally surrender, and emigrate elsewhere to distant parts, leaving a naked land in our possession. You must admit that this would be a most unwise and foolish plan." "Were our boat here, or could a canoe be procurable by any means, our position would be thus:--We could launch and man her with twenty men, supply them with ten or twelve days' provisions and an officer, and bid the crew 'God speed,' while we could re-ascend to the plateau, seize upon a good position near the edge of the plateau, render it quickly unassailable, and forage north, south, and west in a land abounding with grain and cattle, and keep sentries observing the lake and watching for the signal of fire or smoke. On her arrival, a hundred rifles could descend to the lake to learn the news of Emin Pasha's safety, or perhaps of his departure, _viâ_ Ukedi and Usoga, to Zanzibar. The last is probable, because the latest news that I received from the Foreign Office showed that he meditated taking such a step. But now, as we are without canoe or boat, I feel, though we are but four days by water from Wadelai, that we are only wasting valuable time in searching for expedients, when common-sense bids us be off to the forest, find some suitable spot like Ibwiri to leave our surplus stores, sick men, and convalescents from Ugarrowwa and Ipoto, and return here again with our boat and a few dozen cases of ammunition. In this inexplicable absence of Emin, or any news of him, we should be unwise in wasting our strength, carrying the too great surplus of ammunition, when perhaps the Pasha has departed from his province." During our afternoon march we travelled along the lake until the island of Kasenya bore from our camping-place 127° magnetic, or about a mile distant, and our observation point on the summit of the plateau bore 289°. We made a bush fence, and halted at an early hour. The afternoon was likewise spent in considering our position more fully under the new light thrown upon it by the determined refusal of Katonza and his followers to entertain our friendship. On the morning of the 15th December I sent Lieutenant Stairs and forty men to speak with the people of Kasenya Island, which is about 800 yards from the shore. As the lake is very shallow, the canoe with two fishermen which Lieutenant Stairs hailed could not approach the shore to within several hundred yards. The mud was of unfathomed depth, and none dared to put a foot into it. Along the water's edge the singular wood ambatch thrives, and continues its narrow fringe around the southern extremity of the lake, resembling from a distance an extensive range of fishermen's stakes or a tall palisade. The fisherman pointed out a locality further up the lake where they could approach nearer, and which was their landing-place the distance they were then at barely allowing the sounds of the voice to be heard. We spent the morning awaiting Lieutenant Stairs, who had considerable difficulty with the mud and swamps. In the afternoon I sent Mr. Jephson and forty men to the landing-place indicated by the natives, which was a low bluff wooded at the summit, with depth of water sufficient for all practical purposes. In reply to a hail a fisherman and his wife came to within a good bow-shot from the shore, and deigned to converse with our party. They said-- "Yes, we remember a smoke-boat came here a long time ago. There was a white man (Colonel Mason) in her, and he talked quite friendly. He shot a hippopotamus for us, and gave it to us to eat. The bones lie close to where you stand, which you may see for yourselves. There are no large canoes on this lake or anywhere about here, for the biggest will but hold two or three people with safety, and no more. We buy our canoes from the Wanyoro on the other side for fish and salt. Will we carry a letter for you to Unyoro? No (with a laugh). No, we could not think of such a thing; that is a work for a chief and a great man, and we are poor people, no better than slaves. Will we sell a canoe? A little canoe like this will carry you nowhere. It is only fit for fishing close to shore in shallow waters like these. Which way did you come here? By the way of the Ituri? Ah! that proves you to be wicked people. Who ever heard of good people coming from that direction? If you were not wicked people you would have brought a big boat with you, like the other white man, and shoot hippos like him. Go your ways--yonder lies your road; but as you go you will meet with people as bad as yourselves, whose work is to kill people. There is no food close to this lake or in all this plain. Fishermen like we have no need of hoes. Look around everywhere and you will not find a field. You will have to go back to the mountains where there is food for you; there is nothing here. Our business is to make salt and catch fish, which we take to the people above, and exchange for grain and beans. This island is Kasenya, and belongs to Kavalli, and the next place is Nyamsassi. Go on. Why do you not go on and try your luck elsewhere? The first white man stopped in these waters one night in his boat, and the next morning he went on his way, and since then we have not seen him or any other." Go! The inevitable closed around us to fulfil the law that nothing worth striving for can be obtained but by pain and patience. Look where we might, a way to advance was denied to us, except by fighting, killing, destroying, consuming and being consumed. For Unyoro we had no money, or goods fit for Rabba Rega. Marching to Wadelai would only be a useless waste of ammunition, and its want of it would probably prevent our return, and so reduce us to the same helplessness as Emin Pasha was reported to be in. If we cast our eyes lakewards we became conscious that we were bipeds requiring something floatable to bear us over the water. All roads except that by which we came were closed, and in the meantime our provisions were exhausted. At the evening's council we resolved to adopt the only sensible course left us--that is, to return to Ibwiri, eighteen days' journey from here, and there build a strong stockade, then to send a strong party to Ipoto to bring up the boat, goods, officers, and convalescents to our stockade, and after leaving fifty rifles there under three or four officers, hurry on to Ugarrowwa's settlement, and send the convalescents from there back to Ibwiri, and afterwards continue our journey in search of the Major and the rear column before he and it was a wreck, or marched into that wilderness whence we so narrowly escaped, and then, all united again, march on to this place with the boat, and finish the mission thoroughly, with no anxieties in the rear bewildering or enfeebling us. The following day, December 16th, a severe rainstorm detained us in camp until 9 A.M. The low hard plain absorbed the water but slowly, and for the first hour we tramped through water up to the knee in some places. We then emerged on a gently rolling plain, where the grass was but three inches high, with clumps of bush and low trees a few score of yards apart, making the whole scene resemble an ornamental park. Arriving at the path connecting the landing-place of Kasenya with the mountain pass by which we descended, we crossed it, keeping parallel to the lake shore, and about a mile and a half from it. Presently herds of game appeared, and, as our people were exceedingly short of provisions, we prepared to do our best to obtain a supply of meat. After some trouble a male kudu fell to my share, and Saat Tato, the hunter, dropped a hartebeest. Two miles beyond the landing-place of Kasenya we halted. Our object in halting here was to blind the natives of Katonza's, who, we felt sure, would follow us to see if we had moved on, for naturally, having behaved so unruly to us, they might well entertain fears, or at least anxiety, respecting us. At night we proposed to retrace our steps, and follow the road to the foot of the mountain pass, and before dawn commence the steep and stony ascent, and be at the summit before the natives of the table-land above would be astir--as a struggle with such determined people, heavily loaded as we were, was to be avoided if possible. About 3 P.M., as we were occupied in dividing the game among the hungry people, some native yells were heard, and half a dozen arrows fell into the halting-place. Nothing can give a better idea of the blind stupidity or utter recklessness of these savages than this instance of half a score of them assaulting a well-appointed company of 170 men in the wilderness, any two of whom were more than a match for them in a fight. Of course, having delivered their yells and shot their arrows, they turned sharply about and fled. Probably they knew they could rely upon their speed, for they left our pursuing men far out of sight in an incredibly short time. The ten savages who thus visited us were the same who had affected such solicitude as to come to ascertain if we had lost the road yesterday. In my rambles after meat during the day, far down the shore of the Lake from the halting-place, I came to vast heaps of bones of slaughtered game. They seem to have been of many kinds, from the elephant and hippopotamus down to the small bush-bok. It is probable that they had been surrounded by natives of the district who, with the assistance of fire, had slaughtered them in heaps within a circle of not more than 300 yards in diameter. Saat Tato the hunter, after wounding a buffalo, was deterred from following it by the appearance of a full-grown lion, who took up the chase. The shore of the Lake as it trends North Easterly, increases greatly in beauty. Over a score of admirable camping-places were seen by me close by the edge of the Lake, with slopes of white firm sand, over much of which the waves rolled ceaselessly. Behind was a background of green groves isleted amid greenest sward, and game of great variety abounding near by; while a view of singular magnificence and beauty greeted the eye in every direction. At 5.30 P.M. we gathered together, and silently got into order of march for the base of the mountain. We had three sick people with us, two of them had not yet recovered from the effects of our miserable days in the great forest, another suffered from a high fever incurred in last night's rain-storm. At 9 P.M. we stumbled upon a village, which confused us somewhat, but the huge mountain, rising like a dark cloud above us, prevented us from retracing our steps, which without it we might well have done, as it was extremely dark. In dead silence we passed through the sleeping village, and followed a path out of it, which, degenerating into a mere trail, was soon lost. For another hour we bore on, keeping our eyes steadily fixed on the darker shadow that rose to the starry sky above us, until at last wearied nature, betrayed by the petulance of the advance guard, demanded a halt and rest. We threw ourselves down on the grass even where we halted, and were soon in deepest slumber, indifferent to all troubles. At dawn we rose from a deep sleep, drenched with dew and but little refreshed, and gazing up at the immense wall of the table-land that rose in four grand terraces of about 600 feet each, we discovered that we were yet about two miles from the foot of the pass. We therefore pressed forward, and shortly reached the base of the ascent. By aneroids we were 150 feet above the level of the Lake, which was 2400 feet above the sea, and we were 2500 feet below the summit of the saddle, or sunken ridge between the Northern and Southern ranges whose Eastern ends frowned above us. While the carriers of the expedition broke their fast on the last morsels of meat received from yesterday's hunting, thirty picked men were sent up to seize the top of the ascent, and to keep the post while the loaded caravan struggled upward. After half-an-hour's grace we commenced ascending up the rocky and rain-scoured slope, with a fervid "Bismillah" on our lips. After the fatiguing night-march, the after-chill of the dew, and drizzling rain and cold of the early morn, we were not in the best condition to climb to a 2500 feet altitude. To increase our discomfort, the Eastern sun shone full on our backs, and the rocks reflected its heat in our faces. One of the sick men in delirium wandered away, another suffering from high bilious fever surrendered and would proceed no further. When we were half-way up twelve natives of Katonza's were seen far below on the plains, bounding along the track in hot chase of the Expedition, with the object of picking up stragglers. They probably stumbled across our sick men, and the ease with which a delirious and unarmed person fell a sacrifice to their spears would inspire them with a desire to try again. However, Lieutenant Stairs was in charge of the rear guard, and no doubt would give a good account of them if they approached within range. At the top of the second terrace we found a little stream which was refreshingly cool, for the quartzose rocks and gneissic boulders were scorching. That the column suffered terribly was evident by the manner it straggled in fragments over the slopes and terraced flats, and by the streams of perspiration that coursed down their naked bodies. It was a great relief that our sharp-shooters held the brow of the hill, for a few bold spearmen might have decimated the panting and gasping sufferers. At the top of the third terrace there was a short halt, and we could command a view far down to the rear of the column, which had not yet reached the summit of the first terrace, and perceived the twelve natives steadily following at about 500 yards' distance, and one by one they were seen to bend over an object, which I afterwards found from the commander of the rear-guard was our second sick man. Each native drove his spear into the body. Observing their object, it was resolved that their hostility should be punished, and Saat Tato the hunter and four other experts were posted behind some large rocks, between which they could observe without being detected. In two and three-quarter hours we reached the brow of the plateau, and were standing by the advance-guard, who had done excellent service in keeping the enemy away, and as the rear-guard mounted the height we heard the sharp crack of rifles from the ambushed party, who were avenging the murder of two of their comrades. One was shot dead, another was borne away bleeding, and the ferocious scavengers had fled. During the short breathing pause the advance-guard were sent to explore the village near by, which, it seems, was the exchange place between the plateau natives and Lakists, and the gratifying news of a rich discovery soon spread through the column. A large store of grain and beans had been found, sufficient to give each man five days' unstinted rations. [Illustration: CORN GRANARY OF THE BABUSESSÉ.] At 1 P.M. we resumed our march, after giving positive command that close order should be maintained in order to avoid accidents and unnecessary loss of life. From the front of the column, the aborigines, who had in the interval of the halt gathered in vast numbers, moved away to our flanks and rear. A large party hid in some tall grass through which they supposed we should pass, but we swerved aside through a breadth of short grass. Baffled by this movement they rose from their coverts and sought by other means to gratify their spleenish hate. In crossing a deep gully near the knoll, which had already witnessed a stirring contest between us, the centre and rear of the column became somewhat confused in the cany grass, and crossed over in three or four broken lines; our third sick man either purposely lagged behind, or felt his failing powers too weak to bear him further, and laid down in the grass, but it is certain he never issued from the gully. We in the advance halted for the column to reform, and just then we heard a storm of triumphant cries, and a body of about 400 exulting natives came leaping down the slopes, infatuated with their noisy rage and indifferent to rear-guards. Doubtless the triumphant cries were uttered when the sick man's fate was sealed. We had lost three! The rush was in the hopes of obtaining another victim. And, indeed, the rear-guard, burdened with loads and harassed by their duties, seemed to promise one speedily. But at this juncture an expert left the advance and proceeded to take position three hundred yards away from the line of march, and nearer to the exultant natives, who were bounding gleefully towards the tired rear-guard. His first shot laid a native flat, a second smashed the arm of another and penetrated his side. There was an instant's silence, and the advance leaped from their position to assist the rear-guard, who were immediately relieved of their pursuers. An hour's journey beyond this scene we camped on a tabular hill, which commanded a wide view of rich plains, for the night--footsore and weary beyond any former experience. On this afternoon I reflected upon the singularity that savages possessing such acute fear of death should yet so frequently seek it. Most men would have thought that the losses which had attended their efforts on the 10th, 11th, 12th, and 13th would deter such as these from provoking strangers who had proved themselves so well able to defend themselves. At one time we had almost been convinced that fire would teach them caution; we had also thought that keeping in a quiet line of march, abstaining from paying heed to their war-cries and their manoeuvres, and only act when they rushed to the attack, were sufficient to give them glimpses of our rule of conduct. But this was the fifth day of our forbearance. We were losing men, and we could ill afford to lose one, for a vast work remained unfinished. We had still to penetrate the forest twice, we had to proceed to Ipoto to carry our boat to the Nyanza, search the shores of the Lake as far as Wadelai--even Dufflé, if necessary--for news of Emin, to return back again to the assistance of Major Barttelot and the rear-column--who were by this time no doubt looking anxiously for help, wearied with their overwhelming task--and again to march through these grass-land tribes to be each time subject to fatal loss through their unprecedented recklessness and courage. I resolved, then, that the next day we should try to find what effect more active operations would have on them, for it might be that, after one sharp and severe lesson and loss of their cattle, they would consider whether war was as profitable as peace. Accordingly, the next day before dawn I called for volunteers. Eighty men responded with alacrity. The instructions were few-- "You see, boys, these natives fight on the constant run; they have sharp eyes and long limbs. In the work of to-day we white men are of no use. We are all footsore and weary, and we cannot run far in this country. Therefore you will go together with your own chiefs. Go and hunt those fellows who killed our sick men yesterday. Go right to their villages and bring away every cow, sheep, and goat you can find. Don't bother about firing their huts. You must keep on full speed, and chase them out of every cane-brake and hill. Bring me some prisoners that I may have some of their own people to send to them with my words." Meanwhile we availed ourselves of the halt to attend to our personal affairs. Our shoes and clothing needed repair, and for hours we sat cobbling and tailoring. At five in the afternoon the band of volunteers returned, bringing a respectable herd of cattle with several calves. Six bulls were slaughtered at once, and distributed to the men according to their companies, who became nearly delirious with happiness. "Such," said Three o'clock the hunter, "is life in this continent with a caravan. One day we have a feast, and on the next the stomach is craving. Never are two days alike. The people will eat meat now until they are blind, and next month they will thank God if they get as much as a wood-bean." Saat Tato had discovered, like myself, that life in Africa consists of a series of varied sufferings with intervals of short pleasures. [Illustration: A VILLAGE OF THE BAVIRI: EUROPEANS TAILORING, ETC.] The cold was very great on this high land. Each night since we had entered the grass country we had been driven indoors near sunset by the raw misty weather of the evening, and we shivered with chattering teeth in the extreme chilliness of the young day. On this morning the temperature was at 59° Fahrenheit. The men were stark naked owing to the exactions and extortions of the Manyuema, and had taken kindly to the leather dresses of the natives, and the bark cloths worn by the aborigines of the forest. After experiencing the extremes of cold to which these open pasture-lands were subject, we no longer wondered at the tardiness shown by the inhabitants to venture out before nine o'clock, and it would have been manifest wisdom for us to have adopted their example, had our task permitted it. On the 19th December we struck across the rolling plains towards Mazamboni. As we came near Gavira's we were hailed by a group of natives, who shouted out, "The country lies at your feet now. You will not be interfered with any more; but you would please us well if you killed the chief of Undussuma, who sent us to drive you back." At noon, as we were abreast of the Balegga Hills, two parties of forty men each were observed to be following us. They hailed us finally, and expressed a wish to "look us in the face." As they declined the permission to approach us without arms, they were sharply ordered away, lest we should suspect them of sinister designs. They went away submissively. In the afternoon we came to the villages of those who had so persistently persecuted us on the 12th. The people were spread over the hills vociferating fiercely. The advance-guard were urged forward, and the hills were cleared, despite the storms of abuse that were poured out by the Balegga. A few of the captured cattle furnished milk. Our goats also gave an ample supply for tea and coffee, which we were bound to accept as evidence that the heart of Africa could supply a few comforts. On the 20th our march lay through the rich valley of Undussuma, the villages of which had been fired on the 10th and 11th. Already it had recovered its aspect of populousness and prosperity, for the huts were all built anew, but it was still as death, the inhabitants sitting on the mountains looking down upon us as we marched past. Not being challenged or molested, we passed through in close order amidst a voiceless peace. May it not be that by comparing one day's conduct with another, the now from then, the children of Mazamboni will accept the proffer of friendship which we may make on our return? We felt that the next time we came into the land we should be received with courtesy, if not with hospitality. Thus steadily, in view of hundreds of Mazamboni's warriors, we passed through the renovated valley. The millet was now ripe for the harvest, and with our departure westward, happy days were yet in store for them. The next day we entered the Abunguma country, and after fording the East Ituri River, camped on the right bank. The 22nd was a halt--both Lieutenant Stairs and myself were prostrated by ague and footsores; and on the 23rd we marched to the main Ituri River, where we found the Babusessé had withdrawn every canoe. We proceeded down along the bank to a part of the stream that was islanded. By 2 P.M. of the 24th we had made a very neat and strong suspension bridge from the left bank to an island in midstream, though only two men could travel it at a time. Uledi, the coxswain of the advance, with a chosen band of thirteen men, swam from the island to the right bank with their rifles over their shoulders, and the gallant fourteen men scoured up and down the banks for canoes, but were unsuccessful. In the meantime a terrible storm of hail as large as marbles beat down our tents, nearly froze the men, and made everybody miserable with cold. The temperature had suddenly fallen from 75° to 52° Fahrenheit. After lasting fifteen minutes the sun shone on a camp ground strewn with hail. At daylight, Christmas morning, I sent Mr. Jephson and Chief Rashid across the river with instructions to make a raft of banana stalks. It was noon before it was finished, but in the meantime the caravan was passing by the suspension bridge to the island, and the ferriage by raft commenced, taking four men with loads at one trip. In one hour we transported forty men and their loads by these banana stalks. Getting more confident, we sent six men and six loads at one trip, and by 4 P.M. No. 2 Company was safe across. No. 1 Company then turned to haul the cattle from the left bank island, and after the rear-guard had crossed by the bridge, "Three o'clock" laid his bill-hook to the suspension bridge, and with a few strokes destroyed it. [Illustration: GREAT ROCK NEAR INDE-TONGA.] By noon of the 26th the Expedition was across the main Ituri River. Six calves were slaughtered for a Christmas ration of beef. The next day one of our head men died from inflammation of the lungs, caused by a chill caught while halting on the brow of the plateau after the perspiring ascent from the lake plain. By the 29th we had reached Indésura; we thence proceeded to the small village of three huts near Iyugu. On the 1st of January, 1888, we camped at Indé-tongo, and the next day passed by a gigantic granite rock in the forest, which sometimes is used by the forest natives as a refuge resort during internecine strife. On the 6th January we passed by Indémwani, and came across the spot whence Msharasha, a Zanzibari, had fallen from a log and broken his neck. The scavengers of the woods--the red ants--had eaten the scalp and picked the skull clean, until it resembled a large ostrich egg. The chest of the body was still entire, but the lower limbs were consumed clean. On the next day we entered Ibwiri, and came to Boryo's village; but, alas! for our fond hopes of rendering the village comfortable for occupation, the natives had set fire to their own fine dwellings. Fortunately for us, they had taken the precaution to pick out the finest boards, and had stacked many of them in the bush. The large stores of Indian corn had been hastily removed into temporary huts built within the recesses of impervious bush. We set to at once to collect the corn as well as the boards, and before night we had begun the construction of the future Fort Bodo, or the "Peaceful Fort." [Illustration: VIEW OF FORT BODO.] ----- [J] In November, 1887, Emin Pasha wrote to his friend Dr. Felkin: "All well; on best terms with chiefs and people; will be leaving shortly for Kibiro, on east coast of Lake Albert. Have sent reconnoitering party to look out for Stanley, which had to return with no news yet. Stanley expected about December 15th (1887)." We arrived on the 14th. CHAPTER XIII. LIFE AT FORT BODO. Our impending duties--The stockade of Fort Bodo--Instructions to Lieutenant Stairs--His departure for Kilonga-Longa's--Pestered by rats, mosquitoes, &c.--Nights disturbed by the lemur--Armies of red ants--Snakes in tropical Africa--Hoisting the Egyptian flag--Arrival of Surgeon Parke and Captain Nelson from Ipoto--Report of their stay with the Manyuema--Lieutenant Stairs arrives with the steel boat--We determine to push on to the Lake at once--Volunteers to convey letters to Major Barttelot--Illness of myself and Captain Nelson--Uledi captures a Queen of the Pigmies--Our fields of corn--Life at Fort Bodo--We again set out for the Nyanza. On arriving at West Ibwiri, about to build Fort Bodo, I felt precisely like a "city man" returning from his holiday to Switzerland or the sea-side, in whose absence piles of business letters have gathered, which require urgent attention and despatch. They must be opened, read, sifted, and arranged, and as he reflects on their import he perceives that there are many serious affairs, which, unless attended to with method and diligence, will involve him in confusion. Our holiday trip had been the direct and earnest march to the Albert Lake, to serve a Governor who had cried to the world, "Help us quickly, or we perish." For the sake of this, Major Barttelot had been allowed to bring up the rear column, the sick had been housed at Ugarrowwa's and Kilonga-Longa's stations, the extra goods had been buried in a sandy caché at Nelson's starvation camp or stored at Ipoto, the boat _Advance_ had been disconnected and hidden in the bush, and Nelson and Surgeon Parke had been boarded with the Manyuema, and everything that had threatened to impede, delay, or thwart the march had been thrust aside, or eluded in some way. But now that the Governor, who had been the cynosure of our imaginations and the subject of our daily arguments, had either departed homeward, or could, or would not assist in his own relief, the various matters thrust aside for his sake required immediate attention. So I catalogued our impending duties thus:-- To extricate Nelson and Parke from the clutches of the Manyuema, also to bring up the convalescents, the _Advance_ steel boat, Maxim machine gun, and 116 loads stored at Ipoto. To construct Fort Bodo, to securely house a garrison; make a clearing; plant corn, beans, tobacco, that the defenders may be secure, fed, and comforted. To communicate with Major Barttelot by couriers, or proceed myself to him; to escort the convalescents at Ugarrowwa's. [Illustration: VIEW OF FORT BODO.] If boat was stolen or destroyed, then to make a canoe for transport to the Nyanza. If Barttelot was reported to be advancing, to hasten supplies of corn and carriers to his assistance. And first, the most needful duty was to employ every soul in the building of the stockade, within which the buildings could be constructed at more leisure, and without the necessity of having rifles slung to our shoulders. During our absence the natives had burnt West Ibwiri, and Boryo's fine village was a smoking ruin when we entered. But the finest boards had been stripped off the buildings, and were stacked outside, and the corn had been hastily removed to temporary huts in impervious bush two hundred yards away. These were now invaluable to us. By the 18th of January the stockade of Fort Bodo was completed. A hundred men had been cutting tall poles, and bearing them to those who had sunk a narrow trench outlining the area of the fort, to plant firmly and closely in line. Three rows of cross poles were bound by strong vines and rattan creepers to the uprights. Outside the poles, again, had been fixed the planking, so that while the garrison might be merry-making by firelight at night, no vicious dwarf, or ferocious aborigine might creep up, and shoot a poisoned arrow into a throng, and turn joy to grief. At three angles of the fort, a tower sixteen feet high had been erected, fenced, and boarded, in like manner, for sentries by night and day to observe securely any movement in the future fields; a banquette rose against the stockade for the defenders to command greater view. For during the months that we should be employed in realizing our stated tasks, the Manyuema might possibly unite to assault the fort, and its defence therefore required to be bullet-proof as well as arrow-proof. When the stockade was completed, the massive uprights, beams, hundreds of rafters, thousands of climbers, creepers, vines, for the frames of the officers' buildings, storerooms, kitchens, corn-bins, outhouses, piles of phrynia leaves for roofing the houses, had to be collected, and then when the gross work was so far advanced on the evening of the 18th, Lieutenant Stairs was summoned to receive his special instructions, which were somewhat as follows:-- "You will proceed to-morrow with a hundred rifles to Ipoto, to see what has become of Nelson, Parke, and our sick men, and if living to escort every man here. You will also bring the boat _Advance_, and as many goods as possible. The last letters from Nelson and Parke informed us of many unpleasant things. We will hope for the best. At any rate, you have one hundred men, strong and robust as the Manyuema now, and their march to the Albert Lake has made men of them. They are filled with hate of the Manyuema. They go there independent, with corn rations of their own. You may do what you like with them. Now, if Nelson and Parke have no complaints of hostility other than general niggardliness and sulkiness of the Manyuema, do not be involved in any argument, accusation, or reproach, but bring them on. If the boat is safe, and has not been injured, halt but one day for rest, and then hoist her up on your shoulders and carry her here. But if the survivors will prove to you that blood has been shed by violence, and any white or black man has been a victim, or if the boat has been destroyed, then consult with the surviving whites and blacks, think over your plans leisurely, and let the results be what they ought to be, full and final retaliation. That is all, except remember for God's sake that every day's absence beyond a reasonable period necessary for marching there and back, will be dooming us here to that eternal anxiety which follows us on this Expedition wherever we go. It is enough to be anxious for Barttelot, the Pasha, Nelson and Parke and our sick men, without any further addition." Three cows were slaughtered for meat rations for Stairs' Expedition, each man received 120 ears of corn, goats, fowls, and plantains were taken for the commander and his two friends, and the party set off for Kilonga-Longa on the 19th. Stairs' party at muster consisted of-- The garrison numbered-- 88 men. 60 men. 6 chiefs. 3 cooks. 1 officer. 4 boys. 1 boy. 3 whites. 1 cook. -- 1 Manyuema. 70 -- 98 After the departure of Stairs, I commenced the construction of a corn-bin to store 300 bushels of Indian corn, and to plaster the interior of head-quarters. Jephson busied himself in levelling floor of officers' house. Men carried clay, others rammed and tamped. Some men were on the roofs arranging the large-leaved phrynia one above the other on a kind of trestle frame, others formed ladders, made clay-dough for the walls, doors and windows for the houses, built kitchens, excavated latrines, or dug the ditch--ten feet wide, six feet deep--through a hard yellow clay, that lay under the twenty-four inches of humus and loam of the clearing. When the houses were completed, we made a whitewash out of wood ashes, which gave them a clean and neat appearance. [Illustration: PLAN OF FORT BODO AND VICINITY. _By Lieut. Stairs, R.E._] On the 28th, head-quarters was ready for occupation. We had cleared three acres of land, cut down the bush clean to the distance of 200 yards from the fort, chopped the logs--the lighter were carried away, the heavier were piled up--and fire applied to them, and the next day folded the tents and removed to our mansions, which, as Jephson declared, were "remarkably snug." There was at first a feeling of dampness, but a charcoal fire burning night and day soon baked the walls dry. To February 6 we extended the clearing, but discovering that natives were prowling about the fort, planting poisoned splinters in the paths, cutting down the bananas, and bent on general mischief, half of the garrison were divided into two parties of patrols, to scour the plantations and the adjoining forest. On this day's explorations several camps of dwarfs were found at the distance of a mile from the fort, with stores of plantains in their possession. They were thoroughly rousted out, and their camps were destroyed. After a few days' experiences of life in the buildings we found we were to be annoyed by hosts of rats, fleas, and microscopically small mosquitoes. The rats destroyed our corn and bit our feet, sported wantonly over our faces, and played hide-and-seek under our bedclothes. It seems that by their wondrous craft they had discovered the natives were about to burn West Ibwiri, and had migrated in time out of harm's way into the deep bush and the corn fields, and they probably had a dim idea that such an eligible place would not remain long without tenants. When the commodious houses of the Europeans were erected, with spacious lofts, and corn-bins with an inexhaustible supply of grain, they had waited until everything was prepared; but in the meantime the strange white men had excavated a long and deep ditch half round the fort, the walls of which had been carved perpendicularly out of the clay, into which, in their scurry and hurry to take possession, several families of rats tumbled, and one morning "Randy," the fox-terrier, leaped in among them, and exterminated the unfortunates. Still, from the Zanzibari village some wise old rats had found safe entrance and multiplied so fast that, until we became accustomed to their playful though rude sport, we thought them to be an intolerable nuisance. At the same time the warm dry clay floors began to breed fleas by myriads. Poor "Randy" was most miserable from these vexatious torments. We were in no better plight. While dressing they made our limbs black with their numbers. To suppress this pest we had recourse to keeping the floors constantly damp, and to sweeping the floors twice a day. The ordinary mosquito netting was no protection against the mosquitoes of the clearing. They sailed through the open work as mice would creep through antelope nets, and the only remedy was to make mosquito curtains out of cotton muslin, which happily succeeded, but half suffocated the sleepers. Our soap had long ago been exhausted, and as a substitute, though it was not agreeable to the smell, and was an altogether unsaleable article, we manufactured a soft soap out of castor-oil and lye, and, after a few experiments, succeeded in turning out a hard ball-like substance, which had all the desired effect. Every night, from Yambuya to the plains, we had been troubled by harsh screams from the lemur. It began at a startling loud key, very deliberate, and as it proceeded the sounds became louder, quicker, and higher, in a quick succession of angry, grating, wailing cries. In the darkness and silence of the night, they sounded very weird. Soon, from a distance of perhaps 200 yards, commenced a response in the same strain, from another sexual mate. Sometimes two or three pairs of these would make sleep impossible, if any indisposition had temporarily disturbed the usual rest. Armies of red ants would sometimes invade the fort from the clearing; their columns were not interrupted by the ditch. In long, thick, unbroken lines, guarded by soldiers on either flank, the innumerable insects would descend the ditch and ascend the opposite sides, over the parapets, through the interstices of the poles, over the banquette, and down into the plaza of the fort, some columns attacking the kitchen, others headquarters, the officers' mess-house, and woe betide any unlucky naked foot treading upon a myriad. Better a flogging with nettles, or cayenne over an excoriated body, or a caustic bath for a ravenous itch, than these biting and venomous thousands climbing up the limbs and body, burying themselves in the hair of the head, and plunging their shining, horny mandibles into the flesh, creating painful pustules with every bite. Every living thing seems disturbed at their coming. Men are screaming, bellowing with pain, dancing, and writhing. There is a general rustle, as of a host of migrant creatures among the crisp dry phrynia leaves overhead. The rats and mice, snakes, beetles, and crickets are moving. From a slung cot I have observed, by candle-light, the avengers advancing over the floor of my house, scaling the walls, searching the recesses of every layer of leaves, skirmishing among the nooks and crannies, mouse-holes, and cracks; heard moaning and crying of little blind mice, and terrified squealing of motherly and paternal rats, and hailed them as a blessing, encouraging them along on their career of destruction, until presently some perverse and undisciplined tribes would drop from the roof on my cot, and convert their well-wisher into a vindictive enemy, who, in his rage, would call aloud for hot glowing embers and roast them alive by thousands, until the air was heavy with the odour of frizzling and frying ants. Bad luck to them! While digging in the stiff yellow clay, to form the ditch, we have come across burnt wood in the hard compacted material, 5 feet below the surface of the humus. Yet there were stately trees, 100, 150, and 200 years old, above. The site was level, and apparently undisturbed. One of our surprises has been the immunity we have enjoyed from snake-bites in tropical Africa. The continent swarms with reptiles of all kinds, from the silvery and blind typhlops to the huge python; but while travelling and navigating over 24,000 miles of land and water in Africa, only two men have been wounded, neither of which cases proved mortal. But the instant we begin clearing a forest, or hoeing a field or a roadway, we begin to realize the dangers we have escaped. During the work of clearing the prostrate logs, and rooting out the bushy undergrowth and preparing for cultivation, we came across many specimens, some remarkably beautiful. Coiled in the bushes, green as a tender young wheat-blade, were the slender whip-snakes, which dropped down among the men when the bill-hook was applied to destroy their perches. Various species of the Dendrophis, of brilliant colouring, also were revealed. Three bloated puff-adders, gorgeous in their complicated system of decorations, were killed; four horned snakes crept out of their holes to attack and be slain; one of the Lycodontidæ, curious for its long fangs, was roasted out of its hiding-place, while several little, blind, blunt-headed, silvery snakes, not much larger than earthworms, were turned up by the hoes. Tortoises were very common, and the mephitis left frequent traces of his existence. While kites, the most daring of their tribe, soared above every clearing in the forest, we never met a single vulture until we reached the grass-land. A few white-collared eagles now and then made their appearance, but there were parrots innumerable. From grey dawn to dusk these birds always and everywhere made their presence known. A few herons occasionally rested on trees in the clearing towards evening. They were probably fatigued with their flight from the Nyanza. The black ibis and wagtails were our constant companions in the wilds. Trees with weaver birds and their nests were a feature near every forest village. The neighbourhood, and finally our plantations, even within a dozen yards of the fort, were visited by troops of elephants. Buffalo and wild-hog tracks were common, but we were not naturalists. None of us had leisure, and probably but little taste, for collection of insects, butterflies, and birds. To us an animal or a bird was something to eat, but with all our efforts we seldom obtained anything. We only noted what happened to catch our eyes or cross our track. We had too many anxieties to be interested in anything save what was connected with them. If a native or a Zanzibari picked up a brilliant longicorn beetle or hawk-moth, or fine butterfly, or a huge mantis, or brought birds' eggs, or a rare flower, a lily or an orchid, a snake or a tortoise, my mind wandered to my own special business, even while gazing at and approving the find. My family was altogether too large to permit frivolity; not an hour passed but my fancies fled after Stairs at Ipoto; or my thoughts were filled with visions of Barttelot and Jameson struggling through the forest, overwhelmed with their gigantic task, or they dwelt upon the mystery surrounding the Pasha, or upon the vicious dwarfs and the murderous Balessé and their doings, or upon the necessities of providing, day after day, food and meat for the present, as well as for future months. On the 7th of February the sounding line was stretched out to measure out the approaches to the gates of the fort, and most of the garrison were employed for several days in cutting broad, straight roads, east and west, for quick travel and easy defence. Mighty logs were cut through and rolled aside, the roads were cleaned, so that a mouse might be detected crossing them at 200 yards off, a bridge was built across the stream west of the fort, by which the scouts were enabled to proceed from each of the plantations in a short time, by night or by day. It may well be imagined what effect this flood of light had upon the crafty natives, who preferred burrowing in dark shades, and creep under the lee of monster logs, furtively spying out opportunities for attack. They felt that they could not cross the road at any point without becoming a target for a sentry's rifle, or their tracks would betray them to the patrols. On the next morning we raised a flag-staff 50 feet high, and as the Egyptian flag was hoisted up, the Soudanese were permitted to salute it with twenty-one rounds. We had scarcely finished the little ceremony when a shot was fired at the end of the western road, the sentry at the tower commanding it sang out, "Sail ho," and we knew the caravan was coming in from Ipoto. Surgeon Parke was the first to arrive, looking wonderfully well, but Nelson, who suffered from sore feet, and entered the fort an hour later, was prematurely old, with pinched and drawn features, with the bent back and feeble legs befitting an octogenarian. The following account will speak for itself, and will prove that the stay of these officers at the Manyuema village required greater strength of mind and a moral courage greater than was needed by us during our stormy advance across the grass-land. They were not inspired by energising motives to sustain or encourage them in their hour of suffering from physical prostration, sickness, and the wearying life they led among those fearful people, the Manyuema, whereas we had been borne up by the novelties of new scenes, the constant high pitch of excitement, the passion of travel and strife. They suffered from the want of the necessaries of life day after day, while we revelled in abundance, and the greatest difficulty of all was to bear all these sufferings inflicted upon them by Ismailia, Khamis, and Sangarameni, who were slaves of Kilonga-Longa, who was the slave of Abed bin Salim, of Zanzibar, sweetly and pleasantly. _Report of Surgeon_ T. H. Parke, _Army Medical Department, in medical_ _charge of E. P. R. Expedition._ Fort Bodo, _8 February, 1888_. Sir,--I have the honour to forward this report for your information. In compliance with your orders dated 24th October, 1887, I remained at the Manyuema Camp to take charge of invalids and impedimenta left there on your departure, 28th October, up to the time the relief party arrived, 25th January, 1888. Of those invalids whom you left at camp, seven were sufficiently recovered to send on with Captain Jephson, 7th November; those remaining were increased in number by the arrival of Captain Nelson, his two boys, and two men, 3rd November; also headman Umari and nine men, who were found in a starving condition in the bush by Kilonga-Longa, and brought to camp by him 9th January; this made a total of one sick officer and thirty-nine invalids remaining in camp; of this number Captain Nelson and sixteen men left with the relief party. Twelve men were away on a journey looking for food, therefore remain at Manyuema Camp, and eleven deaths occurred; this extremely high mortality will no doubt astonish you, especially as it was entirely due to starvation, except in two instances only. From the time you left the Manyuema Camp until our departure, 26th January, the chiefs gave little or no food to either officers or men; those men who were sufficiently strong to do a good day's work, sometimes got as many as ten heads of corn (Indian) per man, but as the working men were not constantly employed, their average ration of corn was about three per day; those invalids unable to work, of whom there were many, received no food from the chiefs, and were therefore obliged to exist on herbs. Remembering the wretched and debilitated condition of all these men, both from privation and disease, you will readily understand that the heartless treatment of the Manyuema chiefs was sufficient to cause even a much greater mortality. The men were badly housed, and their scanty clothing consisted of about half a yard of native bark-cloth, as they sold their own clothes for food; they experienced not only the horrors of starvation, but were cruelly and brutally treated by the Manyuema, who drove them to commit theft by withholding food, and then scored their backs with rods, and in one case speared a man to death (Asmani bin Hassan) for stealing. Captain Nelson arrived in a very weak condition, requiring good food and careful treatment. He visited the chiefs, and made them handsome presents of articles costing about £75, with a view to win their sympathy; however, they continued to give little or no food to officers or men: they said that no arrangement had been made for provisioning Captain Nelson, and any food they sent to me was entirely of their own generosity, as no arrangement had been made by you. I asked them to let me see the written agreement between you and them, which they did; also another document written in Arabic characters, which I could not read. In their agreement with you I saw that they had promised to provision the officers and men whom you would leave. I appealed to them, and remonstrated with them, nevertheless they supplied less and less food, until finally they refused to give any on the plea that they had none. The height of this generosity would be reached when they would send two or three cups of Indian meal to feed Captain Nelson, myself and the boys, until the next donation would turn up in six or seven days afterwards. During the last seven weeks we did not receive any food whatever from the chiefs. Owing to their refusal to give us food, we were obliged first to sell our own clothes, and eight rifles belonging to the Expedition to provide ourselves and boys with food. I repeatedly reminded Ismaili (chief) of the conversation he had with you in your tent the night before you left the camp, when he promised to look after and care for the officers and men whom you left in camp. Although the chiefs had no food to supply according to their agreement, yet they had always plenty to sell, their object being to compel us to sell the arms and ammunition for food. I send you a complete list of effects left in my charge by Captain Jephson, 7th November, all of which were correct when the relief party arrived, with the following exceptions, viz.:--two boxes Remington ammunition, and one rifle, which were stolen by a Zanzibari (Saraboko), and, I believe, sold to the Manyuema chiefs. Several attempts were made to steal the arms, boxes, &c.; on the night of November 7th, the hut in which the baggage was stored was set on fire with a view to taking everything with a rush in the confusion, caused by the fire: however, their dream was frustrated, as Captain Nelson, who was ever awake saw the blaze, and gave the alarm just in time for ourselves and our boys to put out the fire before it got to the baggage. I then had the tents pitched according to your directions, not being able to do so earlier, as I had no assistance. All the rifles, ammunition, boxes, &c., were packed in the tents, one of which was occupied by Captain Nelson, and the other by myself. Every effort was made to prevent things being stolen; nevertheless, even Captain Nelson's blankets were taken by a thief who got under the tent from behind. On another occasion I heard a noise at my tent-door, and, jumping out of bed quickly, I found a box of ammunition ten yards off, which had just been taken out of my tent. The thief escaped in the dark. On the night of January 9th, I heard a noise outside my tent, and, suspecting a thief, I crept out noiselessly to the back, where I caught "Camaroni," a Zanzibari, in the act of stealing a rifle through a hole which he had cut in the tent for this offence. Life at the Manyuema Camp was almost intolerable. Apart from starvation, the people, their manner and surroundings, were of the lowest order, and, owing to the mounds of fecal matter and decomposing vegetation which were allowed to collect on the paths and close to their dwellings, the place was a hotbed of disease. Captain Nelson was confined to his bed from sickness for over two months, and I got blood-poisoning, followed by erysipelas, which kept me in bed for five weeks. During our illness the chiefs paid us frequent visits, but always with a view to covet something which they saw in our tents. Their avarice was unbounded, and they made agreements one day only to be broken the next. After the arrival of Kilonga-Longa and his force of about 400, including women, children, and slaves, food became really scarce, therefore the Manyuema were obliged to send out large caravans to bring in food. Twelve Zanzibaris who are absent accompanied these caravans in search of food, and had not returned when I left the camp with the relief party. Starvation was so great just before we left that the native slaves seized one of their comrades, who had gone some distance from the camp to draw water, cut him in pieces, and ate him. In conclusion, I may mention that Captain Nelson and myself did everything we could to preserve a good feeling with the Manyuema chiefs and people, and we parted on friendly terms. T. H. Parke. (_Surgeon A. M. D._) _To_ H. M. Stanley, Esq., _Commanding E. P. R. Expedition_. The contrast between the sadly-worn men who reached us from that hot-bed of suffering at Ipoto and our beautifully sleek and glossy men who had reached the Albert was most marked. Their flesh was wasted, their muscles had become shrivelled, their sinews were shrunk, and their distinctive and peculiar individualities seemed to have altogether vanished until it had become a difficult matter to recognise them. On the 12th of February Lieutenant Stairs and his column appeared with every section of the boat in good order. He had been absent twenty-five days, and his mission had been performed with a sacred regard to his instructions and without a single flaw. The evening of that date was remarkable for a discussion between the headmen and ourselves as to our future steps. I discovered that all the headmen were unanimous for proceeding to the Nyanza to launch the boat and search for news of Emin. My desire was equally great to obtain news of the Pasha; nevertheless, I think very little was required to induce me to abandon the search for the Pasha to obtain news of Major Barttelot, but officers and men were alike unanimous in their demand that we should resolve the fate of Emin Pasha. A compromise was finally effected. It was determined that couriers should be sent with our letters to Major Barttelot, with a map of our route and such remarks as would be of practical use to him. It was also decided that Lieutenant Stairs, after two days' rest, should escort these couriers as far as Ugarrowwa's, and see them safely across the river, and that on returning he should escort the convalescents, who, too feeble to march, had been housed in that settlement on the 18th September; that in order that Lieutenant Stairs should "participate in the honour of being present at the relief of Emin Pasha," we should wait for him until the 25th of March. Meantime we should continue the work of enlarging our domain for corn and bean planting, to prevent any scarcity of food while engaged in the forest. The distance between Fort Bodo and Ipoto was seventy-nine miles,[K] or 158 miles the round journey, which had occupied Lieutenant Stairs twenty-five days, at the average of six and one-third miles per day, but he had reached Ipoto within seven days, and Jephson and Uledi had accomplished the distance in the same time, that is, at an average rate of travel of a little over eleven miles per day. Now, as Ugarrowwa was 104 miles beyond Ipoto, or 183 miles from Fort Bodo, it was estimated that the journey of 366 miles which Stairs was now about to undertake might be performed within thirty-four days, or at the rate of ten and three quarter miles per day. This would be magnificent travelling, especially in the forest, but as various circumstances might protract the period, it was agreed that if we moved towards the Nyanza on the 25th March, and as the carriage of the boat would necessitate short stages, we should travel slowly, that he might have the opportunity of overtaking us. On the morning of the 16th February, at muster, it was proclaimed that twenty first-class volunteers were required to convey our letters to Major Barttelot, at £10 reward for each man if they succeeded in reaching him, because, said I, "You have all combined to demand that we should find the Pasha first. It is well. But I feel as anxious about the Major as I do about the Pasha. We must find both. You who remember what we suffered must feel what the Major and his friends feel, in those horrible stretches of unpeopled woods, having no idea where they are going or what is waiting for them. You know how grateful we should have been, had we met anybody who could have warned us of the hunger and misery we should meet. Therefore every man who volunteers must be acknowledged as the fittest for this noble work by everyone here. Master Stairs, whom you all know as a man who is never tired, and never says 'enough' when there is something to be done, will show you the road as far as Ugarrowwa's, he will see that you are ferried over with food, and cartridges sufficient, and when you leave, you must race along our old road, which you cannot lose, like men running for a big prize. These letters must be put into the hands of the Major, that he and your brothers may be saved. Where are these fifty dollar men?" Of course at such times the Zanzibaris are easily roused to enthusiasm, and every man considers himself a hero. Over fifty men came to the front challenging any one to say aught against their manliness or courage, but they had to undergo a searching criticism and bantering review from their fellows and officers, their courage, powers of endurance, activity, dispositions, strength, soundness of mind and body were questioned, but at last twenty men satisfactory to Commander and people received rations, and they were specially enrolled among the men of merit who for distinguished service were to be rewarded with varying sums of money, in addition to their pay, on reaching Zanzibar. Lieutenant Stairs left for Ipoto and Ugarrowwa's at 9 o'clock with fowls, goats, corn, and plantain flour rations for the long journey. On the 18th my left arm, which had been very painful for four days previously, developed a large glandular swelling, which our surgeon said would prove to be an abscess. [Illustration: _Stanford's Geographical Estab._] The following is taken from my diary:-- _February 19th to March 13th_.--On Sunday night, the 19th, I was attacked with inflammation of the stomach, which has been called by Dr. Parke sub-acute gastritis, of so severe a character that during the first week I had only a confused recollection of great pain in the arm and stomach, and general uselessness. Dr. Parke has been most assiduous in his application to my needs, and gentle as a woman in his ministrations. For once in my life every soul around me was at my service, and I found myself an object of universal solicitude night and day. My faithful friends, Parke and Jephson, waited, and watched, and served. Poor Nelson was himself a victim to ill-health, fevers, debility, eruptions and ulcers, the effects of his terrible agony at Starvation Camp, but he would come, sometimes tottering weakly, to express his sympathy. In the afternoons the Doctor would permit the headmen to visit me, to convey to the anxious Zanzibaris their personal opinions and views of my case. During most of these twenty-three days I have been under the influence of morphia, and the time has passed in unconsciousness. But I am now slowly recovering. Two days ago the abscess, which had become very large, was pierced, and I am relieved of that pain. Meanwhile my daily diet has consisted of a pint of milk--thanks to the Balegga cow--mixed with water. I am therefore so feeble as to be scarcely able to move. During my illness I have to regret the loss of two good men, Sarmini and Kamwaiya, who have been killed with arrows, and one of the headmen has been severely wounded. This occurred during a patrolling tour as far as the Ihuru, fourteen geographical miles due north from here. Uledi and a party has discovered the haunts of the dwarfs and taller aborigines who rob our plantain groves to be at Alessé and Nderi, fourteen geographical miles east. I find that Uledi has captured a Queen of the Pigmies, who is the wife of the Chief of Indékaru. She was brought in to be seen by me with three rings of polished iron around her neck, the ends of which were coiled like a watch spring. Three iron rings were suspended to each ear. She is of a light brown complexion, with broad round face, large eyes, and small but full lips. She had a quiet modest demeanour, though her dress was but a narrow fork clout of bark cloth. Her height is about four feet four inches, and her age may be nineteen or twenty. I notice when her arms are held against the light, a whity-brown fell on them. Her skin has not that silky smoothness of touch common to the Zanzibaris, but altogether she is a very pleasing little creature. [Illustration: THE QUEEN OF THE DWARFS.] _March 13th to April 1st_.--By the 25th I was well enough to be able to move about a few hundred yards at a time. My arm was still stiff and I was exceedingly feeble. Nelson has recovered somewhat from his successive fits of illness. During my convalescence I have been supported each afternoon to the centre of a lofty colonnade of trees, through which our road to the Nyanza leads, where in an easy chair I have passed hours of reading and drowsing. It has been a daily delight while helped to my leafy arcade to observe the rapid change in the growth of the corn in the fields, and to see how we have been encroaching upon the forest. Our cultivable area, after being cleaned, hoed, and planted, was not long left with its bare brown face naked. On a certain day it became green with the young corn blades, it had sprouted by thousands as though at the word of command. Only yesterday, as it were, we smiled to see the tender white stalk arched for a spring under a slowly rising clod, a now the clods have been brushed aside, the arched stalks have sprung upright, and the virgin plants have unfolded their tender green crests. Day by day it has been a wonder how the corn has thriven and grown, with what vigour the stalks have thickened, enlarged in leaf, and deepened in green. Side by side in due rank and order they have risen, the blades have extended towards one another in loving embrace, until the whole has become a solid square field of corn, the murmur of which is like the distant wash of a languid sea over a pebbly beach. This is the music to which I listen devoutly, while my medical friend sits not far off on the watch, and sentries stand still at each end of the avenue on guard. A gentle breeze blows over the forest and breathes upon the corn, causing a universal shiver and motion throughout, and I sit watching the corn tops sway and nod, and salute each other, with the beautiful grace and sweet undertones of many wavelets, until drowsiness overcomes me and seals my senses, and sleep bears me to the region of fantasy. As the sun appears low in the west, and lights the underwood horizontally with mellow light, my kind doctor assists me to my feet and props me, as I wend to the Fort, my corn with dancing motion and waving grace bidding me farewell. In the warm teeming soil the corn has grown apace until it has reached a prodigious height, tall as the underwood of the forest. Only a few weeks ago I searched amid the clods for a sign of sprouting; a little later and I might still have seen a scampering mouse; a few days ago it was breast high; to-day I look up and I can scarcely touch the point of a rapier-like blade with a five-foot staff, and a troop of elephants might stand underneath undetected. It has already flowered; the ears, great and swelling, lying snug in their manifold sheaths, give promise of an abundant harvest, and I glow with pleasure at the thought that, while absent, there need be no anxiety about the future. I am resolved to-morrow to make a move towards the Nyanza with the boat. This is the forty-sixth day of Stairs' absence. I had sent twenty couriers--one of whom returned later--to Major Barttelot. Stairs and his personal attendants numbered seven. I shall leave forty-nine in fort; inclusive of Nelson there will be 126 men left to escort the boat to the Nyanza. Total, 201 of advance column remaining out of 389, exclusive of such convalescents as may be obtained at Ugarrowwa's. Tippu-Tib has evidently been faithless, and the Major is therefore working the double stages, some hundreds of miles behind; the nineteen couriers are speeding towards him, and are probably opposite the Nepoko at this date, and Stairs has found so many men yet crippled with ulcers that he is unable to travel fast. With 126 men I attempt the relief of Emin Pasha the second time. The garrison consists of all those who suffer from debility, anæmia--who were fellow-sufferers with Nelson at Starvation Camp--and leg sores, some of which are perfectly incurable. The labour performed about the fort is extensive. Nelson has an impregnable place. The fields of corn and beans are thriving, and of the latter I have enjoyed a first dish to-day. The plantain groves appear to be inexhaustible. Our broad roads extend about half a mile each way. Ten scouts patrol the plantations every morning, that the mischievous pigmies may not destroy the supplies of the garrison, and that no sudden onsets of natives may be made upon the field hands while at work. Surgeon Parke accompanies us to the Nyanza to-morrow according to his own earnest request. Though his place is in the fort with the invalids, there are none who require greater attention than can be given by Captain Nelson through his boys, who have been instructed in the art of bathing the sores with lotions of carbolic acid and water. [Illustration: WITHIN FORT BODO.] Our men on the Sundays have amused themselves with performing military evolutions after the method taught by General Matthews at Zanzibar. They are such capital mimics that his very voice and gesture have been faithfully imitated. Life at Fort Bodo, on the whole, has not been unpleasant except for Captain Nelson and myself. It is true we have fretted and never been free from anxiety respecting the whereabouts and fate of our friends. We have also been anxious to depart and be doing some thing towards terminating our labours, but circumstances which we cannot control rise constantly to thwart our aims. We have therefore striven to employ every leisure hour towards providing unstinted supplies of food, in the hope that fortune will be good enough veer round once in our favour, and bring Barttelot and our friends Jameson, Ward, Troup, and Bonny, with their little army of men, to Fort Bodo before our second return from the Nyanza. ----- [K] Seventy-nine miles one way, and eighty-four miles by another way. CHAPTER XIV. TO THE ALBERT NYANZA A SECOND TIME. Difficulties with the steel boat--African forest craft--Splendid capture of pigmies, and description of the same--We cross the Ituri river--Dr. Parke's delight on leaving the forest--Camp at Bessé--Zanzibari wit--At Nzera-Kum-hill once more--Intercourse with the natives--"Malleju," or the "Bearded One," being first news of Emin--Visit from chief Mazamboni and his followers--Jephson goes through the form of friendship with Mazamboni--The medicine men, Nestor and Murabo--The tribes of the Congo--Visit from chief Gavira--A Mhuma chief--The Bavira and Wahuma races--The varying African features--Friendship with Mpinga--Gavira and the looking-glass--Exposed Uzanza--We reach Kavalli--The chief produces "Malleju's" letter--Emin's letter--Jephson and Parke convey the steel boat to the lake--Copy of letter sent by me to Emin through Jephson--Friendly visits from natives. On the 2nd day of April, 1888, after a drizzly rain had ceased to fall, we filed out at noon with a view to attempt a second time to find the Pasha, or to penetrate the silence around him. We had now our steel boat in twelve sections, and the stem and stern being rather beamy we discovered very soon that a good deal of cutting with axes and bill-hooks was required to permit them to pass between the trees. The caravan in single file, laden with boxes, bales, and baggage, would find no difficulty; the narrower sections two feet wide passed through without trouble, but the plough-shaped stem and stern pieces soon became jammed between two colossal trees which compelled a retreat and a detour through the bush, and this could not be effected without clearing a passage. It was soon evident that our second trip to the Nyanza through the forest would consume some days. The advance guard scanning the track, and fully lessoned in all the crooked ways and wiles of the pigmies and aborigines, picked up many a cleverly-hidden skewer from the path. At some points they were freely planted under an odd leaf or two of phrynium, or at the base of a log, over which, as over a stile, a wayfarer might stride and plant his foot deep into a barbed skewer well smeared with dark poison. But we were too learned now in the art of African forestcraft, and the natives were not so skilled in the invention of expedients as to produce new styles of molestation and annoyance. The dwarfs' village at the crossing was our next resting-place, and Indémwani was reached on the 4th. The next day we moved to another dwarfs' village, and in the neighbouring plantain grove Saat Tato and a few friends, while collecting a few of the fruit, made a splendid capture of pigmies. We had four women and a boy, and in them I saw two distinct types. One evidently belonged to that same race described as the Akka, with small, cunning, monkey eyes, close, and deeply set. The four others possessed large, round eyes, full and prominent, broad round foreheads and round faces, small hands and feet, with slight prognathy of jaws, figures well formed, though diminutive, and of a bricky complexion. "Partial roast coffee," "chocolate," "cocoa," and "_café au lait_" are terms that do not describe the colour correctly, but the common red clay brick when half baked would correspond best in colour to that of the complexion of these little people. Saat Tato reported that there were about twenty of them stealing plantains which belonged to the natives of Indepuya, who were probably deterred from defending their property by the rumour of our presence in the woods. The monkey-eyed woman had a remarkable pair of mischievous orbs, protruding lips overhanging her chin, a prominent abdomen, narrow, flat chest, sloping shoulders, long arms, feet turned greatly inwards and very short lower legs, as being fitly characteristic of the link long sought between the average modern humanity and its Darwinian progenitors, and certainly deserving of being classed as an extremely low, degraded, almost a bestial type of a human being. One of the others was a woman evidently a mother, though she could not have seen her seventeenth year. No fault could be found in the proportion of any one member; her complexion was bright and healthy; her eyes were brilliant, round, and large; her upper lip had the peculiar cut of that of the Wambutti noticeable in the woman at Ugarrowwas, and the chief's wife of Indékaru, which is the upper edge curving upward with a sharp angle and dropping perpendicularly, resembling greatly a clean up and down cut with a curl up of the skin as though it had contracted somewhat. I believe this to be as marked a feature of the Wambutti as the full nether lip is said to be characteristic of the Austrian. The colour of the lips was pinkish. The hands were small, fingers delicate and long, but skinny and puckered, the feet measured seven inches and her height was four feet four inches. So perfect were the proportions of this girl-mother that she appeared at first to be but an undersized woman, her low stature being but the result of premature sexual intercourse or some other accidental circumstance, but when we placed some of our Zanzibar boys of fifteen and sixteen years old by her side, and finally placed a woman of the agricultural aborigines near her, it was clear to everyone that these small creatures were a distinct race. Three hours beyond this great Mbutti village we reached Barya-Kunya amid a drizzly rain. On the 8th we reached Indepessu, and two days later we travelled from the base of Pisgah, along an easterly path, a new track which led us through the little villages of Mandé to the Ituri river. The natives had all fled from Mandé and the slopes of Pisgah across the river with their movable property, and the men were awaiting events on the left bank, confident that they were beyond reach. As we emerged into view on the right bank I was quite struck with the light brown mass the warriors made against the blackish green of the vegetation behind them. Had they been of the colour of the Zanzibaris they would have formed an almost black mass, but they resembled in colour the ochreous clay banks of this river. They shot a few arrows amongst us across the 150 yards wide stream; some fell short and others hurtled harmlessly by us several yards. In our turn we replied and a general scamper occurred. Ninety minutes later the Expedition was across the Ituri by means of the boat. The vanguard picked up a ten-pound packet of clean native salt which had been dropped by the natives in their flight. Salt was a condiment greatly needed, and we were greatly rejoiced at the prize. We were now in the territory of the Bakuba, near the clearing of Kande-koré, which was one of the richest clearings in the forest of the Upper Congo basin. On the edge of the bank we were 3,000 feet above the sea. Three-and-a-half hours' march from the Ituri, we issued out of the forest, and again the change from perpetual twilight to brilliant sunlight, and a blue sky was astonishing, and we all smiled to witness its effects on the nerves of our gentle friend and companion, the first son of Erin who had ever viewed the grass lands of these regions. This was the 289th day of Dr. Parke's forest life, and the effect of this sudden emergence out of the doleful shades in view of this enlarged view from the green earth to the shining and glowing concave of Heaven caused him to quiver with delight. Deep draughts of champagne could not have painted his cheeks with a deeper hue than did this exhilarating prospect which now met him. On the road just before leaving the bush we passed a place where an elephant spear had fallen to the ground, and buried itself so deep that three men were unable to heave it up. Such a force, we argued, would have slain an elephant on the instant. While sketching Pisgah Mountain in the afternoon from our first camp in the pasture land, I observed a cloud approaching it from the N.W., and all the forest beyond was shaded by its deep shadows, while the rolling plains still basked in hot sunshine. Presently another cloud from the S.E. appeared round the southern extremity of Mazamboni's range, and as it advanced, spread over the blue sky, and became merged with the cloud over the forest, and then rain fell. At an altitude of 3,200 feet above the sea the village of Bessé is situated, seven hours' march from the Ituri. Though it was yet early forenoon we camped, the abundance of good ripe bananas, corn, fowls, sugar-cane, and banana wine being very tempting, and the distance to other villages east being unknown. Quite an active skirmish soon occurred while we were engaged making ready our quarters. Fetteh, the sole interpreter to the tribes of the plains, was grievously wounded over the stomach. The Babessé attempted various means to molest us as the long grass favoured them, but by posting sharpshooters in the native lookouts in the trees the knowledge that their tactics were supervised soon demoralised them. We had some speech by means of a native of Uganda with one of these natives, who among his remarks said, "We are quite assured that you black men are creatures like ourselves, but what of those white chiefs of yours? Whence do they come?" "Oh," our man replied, with wonderful facility for fraudful speech, "their faces change with the birth of each moon, when the moon is getting full their colour is dark like our own. They are different from us, as they came from above originally." "Ah, true, it must be so," responded the astonished native, as he brought his hand up to his mouth from politeness, to cover the mouth that expanded with surprise. The more we understand the language of these natives, the more we are struck with the identity of a common origin. How could such as these people have ever heard of such a thing as wit. I heard one native say to a Zanzibari who had met more than his match when he burst out so impatiently at one who had staggered against him, "Such a fool as thou wast surely never seen elsewhere?" To which the native replied, with a benevolent smile, "Ay, it is my lord, who is the sole possessor of wisdom." "Ah, but you are wickedness itself" (personified). "I must not deny it, for all goodness is with thee." It is a common reply among a certain class of white folks when one is accused of being naughty, to reply to the accuser that he is a gentleman, but it must be admitted that the African reply is not inferior in politeness. A little east of Bessé we lost the native track, and were obliged to strike across country, steering straight for Undussuma Peak which now began to lift itself into view, over the swells of grass-land that spread in great waves towards its foot. The sun was fearfully hot, and as the march was mainly through tall grass, we were greatly fatigued. In the afternoon we reached a wooded hollow near a pellucid cool stream, which had its birthplace somewhere among the slopes of Undussuma Range now distant about five miles. On the 14th, after a march of six hours, we were camped on the spur of Nzera-Kum-hill, and before us was the same scene which on the 10th and 11th of December witnessed our struggles for mastery with Mazamboni and his tribe. So far our experiences on this journey were very different. We saw no leaping exulting warriors, nor heard a single menace or war-cry; but, as we intended to halt here a day, it was necessary to know what to expect, and we despatched our Mganda interpreter to hail the natives, who were seated afar off on the hilltops looking down upon us. At 5 P.M. after several patient efforts, they were induced to descend and approach, and they finally entered our camp. The process of establishing a friendship then was easy. We could look into one another's faces, and read as in a book what each thought of the other. We mutually exchanged views, wherein they learned that we only needed a free passage to the Lake unmolested, that we had not appeared as enemies, but strangers seeking a halting-place for the night, to pursue our road the next day without disturbance. They pleaded, as an excuse for their former behaviour, that they were assured we were Wara-Sura (soldiers of Kabba Rega) who periodically visited their country, devastated their land, and carried off their cattle. When we were both convinced that friendship was possible, that our former misunderstanding should not interfere with our future relations, they heard the mystery of our presence explained, that we were only travelling to discover a white chief, who years ago was reported to be somewhere near the sea of Unyoro. Had they ever heard of such a man? They answered eagerly, "About two moons after you passed us--when you came from the Nyanza--a white man called '_Malleju_,' or the _Bearded One_, reached Katonza's in a big canoe, all of iron. "Mother! however could she float; and in the middle of it there rose a tall black tree, and out of it came smoke and sparks of fire, and there were many many strange people aboard, and there were goats running about as in a village square, and fowls in boxes with bars, and we heard the cocks crow as merrily as they do among our millet. _Malleju_ with a deep deep voice asked about you--his brother? What Katonza said to him we do not know, but _Malleju_ went away in the big iron canoe, which sent as much smoke up into the air as though she was on fire. Have no doubt you will find him soon; Mazamboni shall send his runners to the Lake, and by to-morrow's sunset Katonza shall be told of the arrival of _Malleju's_ brother." This was the first news we had heard of Emin Pasha, and it was with the view of this news spreading abroad, and for preparing the natives for the irruption of strangers out of the unknown west, that I had sent couriers from Zanzibar in February, 1887. Had Emin, who expected us December 15th, but taken the trouble to have sent his steamers a nine-hours' steaming distance from his station of Mswa, we should have met with his people December 14th, been spared five days' fighting, a four months' loss of time, and on or about the 15th of March I should have been within the palisades of Yambuya in time to save Barttelot from his assassin, Jameson from his fatal fever attack, Troup from the necessity of being invalided home, Ward from his wholly useless mission to St. Paul de Loanda, and Mr. Bonny from days of distress at Banalya. The next day was a severe one for me. All the talking was levelled at me, and I was imprisoned in my chair from dawn to dusk by crowds of Bavira agriculturists and Wahuma shepherds and herdsmen, chiefs and slaves, princes and peasants, warriors and women. It was impolitic to stir from the close circle which the combined oligarchy and democracy of Undussuma had formed around me. What refreshments were taken were handed to me over the heads of nobles and serfs five deep. My chair was in the centre, three umbrella bearers relieved one another--the sun ran his course from east to west; it glowed at noon hours with the intense heat known in torrid deserts, from three to five it scorched my back, then it became cooler, but until the circles broke and were dissolved by the approaching cold accompanying the dusk, I was a martyr to the cause of human brotherhood. At a very early hour Mazamboni appeared outside of the zeriba with an imposing retinue of followers. He was escorted to the middle of the camp with every mark of respect, officers gracefully bowing their welcome, Zanzibaris and Soudanese, who had chased him and his legions over the hills in December, looking as innocent as though they had never tasted meat and smiling a summer greeting. Our best mats were spread under a sickly dwarf tree for the convenience of the august guest, ivory horns gave forth mellow blares, reminding me of the imperial court of the Ramessean autocrat of Uganda, Usoga, and the island archipelagoes of the Victorian Sea. Nothing was omitted that experience with a thousand chiefs of dark Africa had taught me was necessary for lighting up a swarthy face with humour, pleasure, content, and perfect trust. Mazamboni accepted every attention as his by right Divine, but no smile or word greeted us. Was the man deaf and dumb? No; he spoke briefly and low to his sub-chiefs, and his satellites roared with bull voices, as though I needed an auricular trumpet to hear, and the sounds stunned me as though they were rung with a trip-hammer. "My friends," said I, "my head will crack if you go on thus; besides, you know wisdom is precious. Why should the herd hear State policy?" "Ah, truly!" said one sage with a beard as white as the father of the Commons ought to have. Nestor lowered his voice, and garrulously rehearsed the history of the land, described the effect created upon it by the column's approach in December, the hasty councils that were held, and the rash resolution they had adopted, confessing that when they heard there were white men with the strangers they suspected they were wrong in continuing their hostile attitude, but the youthful warriors had been too impetuous and overruled the cautious counsels of the ancients of their tribe; that when they had seen us return from the Nyanza and depart in peace towards the forest, they then knew that the Wara-Sura, as we were believed to be, would never have returned so soon from their own Lake, but would have crossed the Semliki to their own country, and then, when they had heard of _Malleju_, the white chief of the iron canoe, was seeking for us, they were convinced they had been all wrong. "But never mind," said we, "the strangers will return from the Kivira (forest), and we shall make it up with them. If they seek our friendship they shall have it, and Mazamboni's blood shall mingle with that of their chief; and we shall be one people, and lo! you have come, and the dreams of our wise men have become real facts. Mazamboni sits as a brother by the side of the white chief; let us see the blood mingle, and never a cloud shall come between you while you are in the land; the belongings of Mazamboni are yours, his warriors, wives, children, the land and all that stands on the face of it are yours. Have I said well, oh, warriors?" "Well and truly you have spoken," murmured the circles. "Shall Mazamboni be a son of 'Bula Matari?'" "He shall." "Shall there be true peace between us and the strangers?" "Yea," came in an emotional shout from the mass. Then the mutual right hands of my son, Mr. Jephson, who volunteered to be sacrificed, were clasped crosswise over the crossed knees, the native Professor of Medicine made a slight incision in his arm until the red blood dyed it. My Professor of Secret Ritualism caused the dark red blood of Mazamboni to well out of the vein, and as the liquid of life flowed and dropped over the knees, the incantations were commenced by the sage with the white beard, and as he shook the pebbles in the magic gourd at the range of the peak opposite, and at the horse-shoe range yonder in the plains, and to eastward and westward of the valley, he delivered his terrible curses from the summit of Nzera-Kum, and all men listened unto him with open lips:-- "Cursed is he who breaks his plighted vow. "Cursed is he who nourisheth secret hate. "Cursed is he who turneth his back against his friend. "Cursed is he who in the day of war denieth his brother. "Cursed is he who deviseth evil to his friend whose blood has become one with his own. "May the itch make him loathsome, and the hair of his head be lost by the mange; may the adder wait for him by the path, and the lion meet him on his way; may the leopard in the darkness besiege his house, and his wife when she draweth water from the stream, be seized; may the barbed arrow pin his entrails, and the sharp spear be dyed in his vitals; may sickness waste his strength, and his days be narrowed with disease; may his limbs fail him in the day of battle, and his arms stiffen with cramps," and so on, invoking every evil and disease most dreaded, and the Zanzibari Professor of Secret Ritualism, somewhat dumbfounded at first at the series of curses delivered so volubly by Nestor, seized his magic gourd, and shook it at the hills and the valley, at the head of Mazamboni with awful solemnity; at Nestor himself, and the awe-struck following around, and outdid Nestor, from perverted ambition, by frenzy, voice, and gesture, in harmony with it; his eyes rolled wildly, foam came from his lips; he summoned every blight to fall upon the land and its productions, every damnable agency in his folk-lore to hound Mazamboni for ever; every dark and potent spirit out of the limbo of evil imagination to torture him in his waking and sleeping hours, until his actions were so fantastic, his denunciation so outrageous, his looks so like one possessed with a demon, that everyone, native and Zanzibari, broke out into uncontrollable laughter, which caused Murabo, our "medicine man," to sober instantly, and to say in Swahili to us, with a conceited shake of the head, "Ay! master, how do you like that style for high acting?" which reminded me of nothing so much as Hamlet out-ranting Laertes. Mazamboni, though undoubtedly paramount chief of Undussuma, seems to be governed by an unwritten constitution. His ministers also are his principal kinsmen, who conduct foreign and home policy even in his presence, so that in affairs of government his voice is seldom heard. Most of the time he sat silent and reserved--one might almost say indifferent. Thus this unsophisticated African chief has discovered that--whether from intuition or traditional custom it is hard to say--it is best to divide government. If the principle has been derived from custom, it proves that from the Albert Nyanza down to the Atlantic the thousand tribes of the Congo basin spring from one parent tribe, nation, or family. The similarity in other customs, physiognomy, and roots of languages, lend additional proofs to substantiate this. We discovered that the chiefs, as well as the lesser folk, were arrant beggars, and too sordid in mind to recognise a generous act. Though a peace was strenuously sought by all, yet the granting of it seemed to them to be only a means of being enriched with gifts from the strangers. Mazamboni, even after a long day's work, could only be induced to give more than a calf and five goats as a return for a ten-guinea rug, a bundle of brass wire, and ivory horns from the forest. The chief of Urumangwa and Bwessa, that flourishing settlement which in December had so astonished us with its prosperity, likewise thought that he was exceedingly liberal by endowing us with a kid and two fowls. Among our visitors to-day were Gavira, the chief of the Eastern Bavira, who proclaimed from a hill that the land lay at our feet when we were returning from the Lake; and also a Mhuma chief, who wore unblushingly the fine scarlet cloth of which we had been mulcted in December to buy peace. He never offered a return gift so long deferred. [Illustration: ONE OF MAZAMBONI'S WARRIORS.] We discovered that there were two different and distinctly differing races living in this region in harmony with each other, one being clearly of Indo-African origin, possessing exceedingly fine features, aquiline noses, slender necks, small heads, with a grand and proud carriage; an old, old race, possessing splendid traditions, and ruled by inflexible custom which would admit of no deviation. Though the majority have a nutty-brown complexion, some even of a rich dark brown, the purest of their kind resemble old ivory in colour, and their skins have a beautifully soft feel, as of finest satin. These confine themselves solely to the breeding of cattle, and are imbued with a supercilious contempt for the hoemen, the Bavira, who are strictly agricultural. No proud dukeling in England could regard a pauper with more pronounced contempt than the Wahuma profess for the Bavira. They will live in the country of the Bavira, but not in their villages; they will exchange their dairy produce for the grain and vegetables of the hoemen, but they will never give their daughters in marriage but to a Mhuma born. Their sons may possess children by Bavira women, but that is the utmost concession. Now in this I discover the true secret of the varying physiognomies, and the explanations in the variation of facial types. We have the true negroidal cast of features in the far-away regions of West Africa, with which this proud high-caste race could not possibly come in contact during many centuries; we have the primitive races of the forest, the Akkas, Wambutti, Watwa, and Bushmen, of which the Wambutti are by far the handsomest; have the Zulus, the Mafitte, Watuta, Wahha, Warundi, Wanya-Ruanda, semi-Ethiopic; we have the Ethiopic, slightly degraded, except in the aristocratic families, as in the Wahuma, or, as they are variously called, Waima, Wachwezi, Wawitu, and the Wataturu, who represent two human streams, one coming from Ethiopia by way of South-East Galla into Unyoro and the high pastoral lake regions, and the other flowing direct south. The Victoria Lake lies between these sections of superior African humanity. A Bavira chief complained to me of the haughty contempt with which the Bavira were regarded by the Wahuma, in just such words as these: "They call us hoemen, and laugh to scorn the sober regularity with which we, tilling the dark soil, live through our lives in honest labour. They sweep round on foraging excursions, and know no loved and fixed home; they settle down wherever they are tempted (by pasture), and when there (is trouble) they build a house in another spot." But to my narrative, as I may deal with the subject further in a special chapter. On the 16th, furnished by Mazamboni with twelve guides, escorted by Gavira and fifty warriors, accompanied by a long line of new friends behind the rear guard, assisted by more than a hundred carriers, we marched to the territory of Gavira, to the village where we had rested in the naked hill-village, after a terrible day of excitement, on the 12th of December. We were now a peaceful procession, with somewhat of a triumphal character. For at every village we appeared the warriors came out and hailed us with friendly greetings, and at Makukuru, the name of the village which we already knew, the women lu-lu-lued. From this settlement in Uzanza we enjoyed an extensive view, embracing all eastward to the brow of the high land overlooking the gulf of the Albert Lake westward as far as Pisgah, six marches distant northward to the cones of Bemberri, southward the hills of the Balegga rose, a mile off. The Chief of the Bavira is known as Gavira--an hereditary title, though his name is Mpinga. He was a pleasant little man, but stingy; and when not engaged in State councils, talkative. He and his tribe begged for friendship similar to that which was established with Mazamboni; we were only too willing to accede--the conditions being that he should be hospitable to the Expedition on its journeys through his country. Having halted one day at Mazamboni's, it was necessary that we should do equal honour to Gavira; and as this place was only two short marches, or one long march, to the Nyanza, we agreed. In the evening, two natives arrived from Mbiassi, of the tribe Ba-biassi, chief of the district of Kavalli, which extended, in a broad strip, down to the Nyanza, who informed me that their chief possessed a small packet, covered with dark cloth, for me, which had been given him by Mpigwa, of Nyamsassi, who had received it from a white man known to them as _Malleju_. We were surrounded on the next day by hundreds of friendly people, who seemed unable to gaze sufficiently at us. They therefore placidly squatted on their haunches, quietly contemplating our movements; the younger members were deputed by the old to gather fuel and sweet potatoes, and to bring millet grain to camp. For trifling gifts, the Zanzibaris obtained their most devoted service for building their huts, and carrying water and attending to their fires, grinding their millet grain into flour; while our men contentedly sat down, encouraging them to hard labour with a friendly nod and bland smile, some bit of iron-work, a pinch of beads, a cowrie or two, or a wristlet of brass wire. Every man picked up a warm-hearted, and ingenious brother; and, excepting in cooking, the natives were admitted into the privilege of fast friendship. The chief Gavira was robed, in the afternoon, in bright scarlet cloth of first-class quality, and escorted around the camp, with all honour, by our headmen, who introduced him to the various messes with high tribute to his good disposition. He was afterwards shown a mirror, at which he and his elders expressed extraordinary astonishment and fright. They took the reflection of their own faces to be a hostile tribe advancing from the earth towards them, and started to run to a safer distance; but instinctively they halted, as they saw that we did not stir. They then returned on tip-toe, as if to ask what that sudden vision of black faces could possibly have been; for the mirror had been dropped on its face into the case. In answer to their mute appeal, it was opened again, and they gazed at it fixedly. They whispered to one another--"Why, the faces resemble our own!" They were told that what they saw was a reflection of their own remarkably prepossessing features; and Mpinga, with pride, blushed darkly at the compliment. Perceiving that he could be trusted with it without shock to his nerves, it was put into his hand; and it was amusing to see how quickly personal vanity increased; his elders crowded around him, and all grouped around and were pleased to note how truthfully the mirror reflected each facial characteristic. "See that scar--it is just and exact; but lo! look at your broad nose, Mpinga; why, it is perfect! Ay, and look at that big feather; it actually waves! It is too--too wonderful! What can it be made of? It is like water; but it is not soft by any means; and on the back it is black. Ah, but we have seen a thing to-day that our fathers never saw, eh?" Uzanza exposed, and open to every blast from each quarter of heaven, will be remembered for a long time. As the sun set, the cold winds blew from lakeward, and smote us sorely; we were so accustomed to the equable temperature of the forest, and so poor in clothing. One officer armed himself with his waterproof; another put on his ulster; and still the wind penetrated to the marrow; and there was no warmth but in the snug beehive huts of the Bavira--whither we retired. Instead of pursuing along our first course to the Lake, we struck north-east to the village of Kavalli, where the mysterious packet was said to be. The grass was short cropped by numerous herds of cattle, and covered every inch and made it resemble a lawn, save where the land dipped down into the miniature cañons, which had been scooped out by centuries of rain. As we traversed the smiling land, hailed, and greeted, and welcomed, by the kindly Bavira, we could not forbear thinking how different all this was from the days when we drove through noisy battalions of Bavira, Babiassi, and Balegga, each urging his neighbours, and whooping and hallooing every one to our extermination, with the quick play of light on crowds of flashing spears, and yard-long arrows sailing through the air to meet us; and now we had 157 Bavira actually in front of the advance guard, as many behind the rear guard, while our 90 loads had been distributed among voluntary carriers who thought it an honour to be porters to the same men whom they had hounded so mercilessly a few months previous. Soon after the arrival of the now numerous column before the thorny zeriba of Kavalli, the chief, a handsome young Mhuma, with regular features, tall, slender, and wonderfully composed in manner, appeared, to show us where we might camp. To such as chose to avail themselves of shelter in his village he accorded free permission; and on being asked for the packet of _Malleju_, he produced it; and, as he handed it to me, said that only his two young men, of all the country, knew that he possessed it; and anxiously asked if he had not done an excellent thing in keeping the secret safe. [Illustration: KAVALLI, CHIEF OF THE BA-BIASSI.] Untying the cover, which was of American oil-cloth, I found the following letter:-- Dear Sir,-- Rumours having been afloat of white men having made their apparition somewhere south of this Lake, I have come here in quest of news. A start to the furthest end of the Lake, which I could reach by steamer, has been without success, the people being greatly afraid of Kabba Rega people, and their chiefs being under instructions to conceal whatever they know. To-day, however, has arrived a man from Chief Mpigwa, of Nyamsassi country, who tells me that a wife of the said chief has seen you at Undussuma, her birthplace, and that his chief volunteers to send a letter of mine to you. I send, therefore, one of our allies, Chief Mogo, with the messenger to Chief Mpigwa's, requesting him to send Mogo and this letter, as well as an Arabic one, to you, or to retain Mogo and send the letter ahead. Be pleased, if this reaches you, _to rest where you are_, and to inform me by letter, or one of your people, of your wishes. I could easily come to Chief Mpigwa, and my steamer and boats would bring you here. At the arrival of your letter or man, I shall at once start for Nyamsassi, and from there we could concert our further designs. Beware of Kabba Rega's men! He has expelled Captain Casati. Believe me, dear Sir, to be Yours very faithfully, (Signed) Dr. Emin. Tunguru (Lake Albert).[L] 25/3/88. 8 P.M. The letter was translated to our men, upon hearing which, they became mad with enthusiasm; nor were the natives of Kavalli less affected, though not with such boisterous joy, for they perceived that the packet they had guarded with such jealous care was the cause of this happiness. Food poured in gratuitously from many chiefs, and I directed Mbiassi to inform the districts around that a contribution from each tribe or section would be gladly received. On the 20th, I despatched Mr. Jephson and Surgeon Parke, with 50 rifles and two native guides of Kavalli, to convey the steel boat, _Advance_, down to Lake Albert. I am informed by the guides that Mswa station was distant two days only, by boat sailing along the western shore. Mr. Jephson was entrusted with the following letter to Emin Pasha:-- _April 18th, 1888._ Dear Sir,-- Your letter was put into my hands by Chief Mbiassi, of Kavalli, (on the plateau), the day before yesterday, and it gave us all great pleasure. I sent a long letter to you from Zanzibar by carriers to Uganda, informing you of my mission and of my purpose. Lest you may not have received it, I will recapitulate in brief its principal contents. It informed you first that, in compliance with instructions from the Relief Committee of London, I was leading an Expedition for your relief. Half of the fund necessary was subscribed by the Egyptian Government, the other half by a few English friends of yours. It also informed you that the instructions of the Egyptian Government were to guide you out of Africa, if you were willing to leave Africa; if not, then I was to leave such ammunition as we had brought with us for you, and you and your people were then to consider yourselves as out of the service of Egypt, and your pay was to cease upon such notification being given by you. If you were willing to leave Africa, then the pay of yourself, officers and men, was to continue until you had landed in Egypt. It further informed you that you yourself was promoted from Bey to Pasha. It also informed you that I proposed, on account of the hostility of Uganda, and political reasons, to approach you by way of the Congo, and make Kavalli my objective point. I presume you have not received that letter, from the total ignorance of the natives at Kavalli about you, as they only knew of Mason's visit, which took place ten years ago. We first arrived here after some desperate fighting on the 14th December last. We stayed two days on the shore of the Lake near Kavalli, inquiring of every native that we could approach if they knew of you, and were always answered in the negative. As we had left our boat a month's march behind, we could get no canoe by fair purchase or force, we resolved to return, obtain our boat, and carry it to the Nyanza. This we have done, and in the meantime we constructed a little fort fifteen days' march from here, and stored such goods as we could not carry, and marched here with our boat for a second trial to relieve you. This time the most violent natives have received us with open arms, and escorted us by hundreds on the way. The country is now open for a peaceful march from Nyamsassi to our fort. Now I await your decision at Nyamsassi. As it is difficult to supply rations to our people on the Nyanza plain, I hope we shall not have to wait long for it. On the plateau above there is abundance of food and cattle, but on the lower plain, bordering the Nyanza, the people are mainly fishermen. If this letter reaches you before you leave your place, I should advise you to bring in your steamer and boats, rations sufficient to subsist us while we await your removal, say about 12,000 or 15,000 lbs. of grain, millet, or Indian corn, &c., which, if your steamer is of any capacity, you can easily bring. If you are already resolved on leaving Africa, I would suggest that you should bring with you all your cattle, and every native willing to follow you. Nubar Pasha hoped you would bring all your Makkaraka, and leave not one behind if you could help it, as he would retain them all in the service. The letters from the Ministry of War, and from Nubar Pasha, which I bring, will inform you fully of the intention of the Egyptian Government, and perhaps you had better wait to see them before taking any action. I simply let you know briefly about the intentions of the Government, that you may turn the matter over in your mind, and be enabled to come to a decision. I hear you have abundance of cattle with you; three or four milk cows would be very grateful to us if you can bring them in your steamer and boats. I have a number of letters, some books and maps for you, and a packet for Captain Casati. I fear to send them by my boat, lest you should start from your place upon some native rumour of our having arrived here, and you should miss her. Besides, I am not quite sure that the boat will reach you; I therefore keep them until I am assured they can be placed in your hands safely. We shall have to forage far and near for food while we await your attendance at Nyamsassi, but you may depend upon it we shall endeavour to stay here until we see you. All with me join in sending you our best wishes, and are thankful that you are safe and well. Believe me, dear Pasha, Your most obedient servant, Henry M. Stanley. Commanding Relief Expedition His Excellency Emin Pasha, Governor of Equatorial Provinces, &c., &c., &c. [Illustration: MILK VESSEL OF THE WAHUMA.] During our halt at Kavalli several hundred natives from the districts round about paid us friendly visits, and the chiefs and elders tendered their submission to me. They said the country was mine, and whatever my commands might be, would be promptly done. By the ready way food was brought in, there was no reason to doubt their sincerity, though as yet there was no necessity to take it too literally. So long as we were not starving, nothing could happen to disturb the peaceful relations commenced with Mazamboni. According to my means each chief received a present of cloth, beads, cowries, and wire. Mbiassi furnished me with a quart of milk daily in a wooden bowl of this pattern. ----- [L] When, after reaching Zanzibar, I read Emin Pasha's letter to the Editor of Petermann's 'Mitteilungen' (see No. 4 of the 'Gotha Geog. Journal'), dated 25th March, 1888 (the same date that the above letter was written), which concluded with the significant words: "If Stanley does not come soon, we are lost," most curious thoughts came into my mind which the intelligent reader will find no difficulty in guessing. Happily, however, the Pasha kept his own secret until I was far away from Bagamoyo, and I was unable to inquire from him personally what were his motives for not coming to Kavalli, December 14th, 1887, the date he expected us; for remaining silent two months and a half in his own stations after that date, and then writing two such letters as the one above and that to Petermann's Magazine on the same date. CHAPTER XV. THE MEETING WITH EMIN PASHA. Our camp at Bundi--Mbiassi, the chief of Kavalli--The Balegga granaries--Chiefs Katonza and Komubi express contrition--The kites at Badzwa--A note from Jephson--Emin, Casati and Jephson walk into our camp at old Kavalli--Descriptions of Emin Pasha and Captain Casati--The Pasha's Soudanese--Our Zanzibaris--The steamer _Khedive_--Baker and the Blue Mountains--Drs. Junker and Felkin's descriptions of Emin--Proximity of Kabba Rega--Emin and the Equatorial Provinces--Dr. Junker's report of Emin--I discuss with Emin our future proceedings--Captain Casati's plans--Our camp and provisions at Nsabé--Kabba Rega's treatment of Captain Casati and Mohammed Biri--Mabruki gored by a buffalo--Emin Pasha and his soldiers--My propositions to Emin and his answer--Emin's position--Mahommet Achmet--The Congo State--The Foreign Office despatches. On the 25th we departed from Kavalli and camped at Bundi, at an altitude of 4,900 feet above the sea. The village proper was situated 400 feet higher, on the crest of one of those ranges of hills which form the dividing-line between the Congo basin and that of the Nile. From its folds westerly escaped the first infant streams which flowed into East Ituri. On the other side of the narrow rocky spine issued streams which dropped into the gulf of the Albert. Our camp was situated on the very brow of the plateau, in full view of a large portion of the south end of the Albert. Mbiassi, the handsome chief of Kavalli, accompanied us to do the honours of his tribe to his guests. He commanded the people of Bundi to hurry forward an ample contribution to the camp, and also despatched messengers to the redoubtable Komubi, chief of the Eastern Balegga, who seemed to be considered by these stubborn foes of Kabba Rega as their "Only General," with a message not to lag behind in supplying with food a man, who might be induced to lend his aid in punishing Kabba Rega some day. Mbiassi, commonly called Kavalli by his people, after his district, was a diplomat. On the 26th we descended the plateau slope once more in 2 hours 45 minutes--and at the foot of it we were quartered in the Balegga village of Badzwa, 2,300 feet below Bundi camp. The Balegga had decamped, but as it was Kavalli's property, he assumed charge, and distributed corn from its granaries, according to the needs of our united followers, sufficient for five days' rations. Messengers from Katonza, the chief who had declined our friendship on December 14th, who had refused our proffered gifts, who had sent his men to throw arrows into our bivouac of the 16th, and murdered our two sick men, came to say that he was "dying" to see me. He had now heard that Mazamboni, Gavira, Kavalli, and many others were hand-and-glove with the strangers who had humbly begged a drink of water from his people, and he had hastened to make reparation, like Shimei the Benjamite. Before I could frame an answer, stalwart Komubi, the "only general," had descended from the Balegga Hills with a white cow, several goats, and bundles of sweet potatoes, besides many jars of potent beer. It was Komubi and his stubborn fellows who had clung to the rear guard on the 13th December with such persistency, and had attempted a night attack. He now frankly came to express contrition and sorrow that he had mistaken us for Kabba Rega's bandits, and to surrender his country wholly into my hands, and his life, if I so wished it. With this bold chieftain we made friends quickly enough, and after a lengthy interview parted. To Katonza we replied that we would think of his message. I now turn to the diary form. _August 27th._--Halt at Badzwa. The kites are very bold in this neighbourhood. Seeing their daring, we amused ourselves with putting pieces of meat on the roof of a hut within arm's length of a man standing by, and each time the kite succeeded in escaping with the meat, as the bird, sailing and wheeling round the spot, seemed to know when the attention was relaxed, and that moment dropped plump upon the meat, and sailed away with it fast gripped before the outstretched hand could seize him. Our hunter, "Three o'clock," went out, and returned with the meat of a fine kudu he had shot. _April 28th._--Halt. Wadi Mabruki, another hunter, went out this morning to compete at game-hunting with "Three o'clock," and in the afternoon he and his followers brought three young roan antelope. _April 29th._--At 8 A.M., as we were about to break camp to march to the Lake, a native guide appeared with a note from Jephson, dated April 23rd, which stated that he had safely reached Mswa, a station of Emin Pasha's, and that messengers had been despatched by the Commandant, Shukri Agha, to apprise Emin Pasha of our appearance on the lake. A basket of onions--a gift from Shukri Agha--accompanied the note. At 9 A.M. we set out for the Lake. Two hours later we were camped about a quarter of a mile from the shore, not far from the bivouac ground occupied by us on the 16th December, and on the site of old Kavalli, as the chief showed us. We had five days' rations of grain with us, and meat could be procured from the plain behind us, as it swarmed with large game of various kinds. From my tent-door, at 4.30 P.M., I saw a dark object loom up on the north-east horizon of the lake. I thought it might be a native canoe, or perhaps the steel boat _Advance_ returning, but a binocular revealed the dimensions of a vessel much larger than a boat or canoe could possibly be, and presently a dark puff of smoke issuing from it declared her to be a steamer. An hour later we could distinguish a couple of boats in tow, and at 6.30 P.M. the steamer dropped anchor in the baylet of Nyamsassi, in shore of the island of that name. Scores of our people were on the beach in front of our camp firing guns, and waving signals, but though we were only two miles from the island, no one appeared to observe us. Ardent messengers were therefore sent along the shore to inform the party on board of our presence, and these were, unhappily, so exuberant, that as they fired their rifles to give notice, they were fired at in return by the Soudanese, who naturally enough took the wild figures for Kabba Rega's people. However, no harm was done; the boat's crew distinguished their comrades' cries, the word was passed that the people on shore were friends, and the boat was made ready to convey our visitors to the beach near the camp. At eight o'clock, amid great rejoicing, and after repeated salutes from rifles, Emin Pasha himself walked into camp accompanied by Captain Casati and Mr. Jephson, and one of the Pasha's officers. I shook hands with all, and asked which was Emin Pasha? Then one rather small, slight figure, wearing glasses, arrested my attention by saying in excellent English, "I owe you a thousand thanks, Mr. Stanley; I really do not know how to express my thanks to you." "Ah, you are Emin Pasha. Do not mention thanks, but come in and sit down. It is so dark out here we cannot see one another." At the door of the tent we sat, and a wax candle threw light upon the scene. I expected to see a tall thin military-looking figure, in faded Egyptian uniform, but instead of it I saw a small spare figure in a well-kept fez and a clean suit of snowy cotton drilling, well-ironed and perfect fit. A dark grizzled beard bordered a face of a Magyar cast, though a pair of spectacles lent it somewhat an Italian or Spanish appearance. There was not a trace on it of ill-health or anxiety; it rather indicated good condition of body and peace of mind. Captain Casati, on the other hand, though younger in years, looked gaunt, care-worn, anxious, and aged. He likewise dressed in clean cottons, with an Egyptian fez for a head-covering. [Illustration: EMIN AND CASATI ARRIVE AT OUR LAKE SHORE CAMP.] Brief summaries of our incidents of travel, events in Europe, occurrences in the Equatorial Provinces and matters personal, occupied the best part of two hours, after which, to terminate the happy meeting, five half-pint bottles of champagne--a present from my friend Greshoff, of Stanley Pool--were uncorked and duly drank to the continued good healths of Emin Pasha and Captain Casati.[M] The party were conducted to the boat, which conveyed them to the steamer. _April 30th._--Marched Expedition to Nsabé, a fine dry grassy spot, fifty yards from Lake and about three miles from Nyamsassi Island. As we passed the anchorage of the steamer _Khedive_, we found a detachment of the Pasha's Soudanese drawn up on the Lake shore on parade to salute us with music. The Pasha was dressed in his uniform coat, and appeared more of a military man than last night. Our Zanzibaris, by the side of these upright figures, seemed altogether a beggarly troop, and more naked than ever. But I was not ashamed of them. It was by their aid, mean as they appeared, that we had triumphed over countless difficulties, and though they did not understand drill, nor could assume a martial pose, the best of these Soudanese soldiers were but children to them for the needs of a Relief Expedition. After this little ceremony was over I delivered to the Pasha thirty-one cases of Remington ammunition, and I went aboard the steamer, where I breakfasted on millet cake fried in syrup, and a glass of new milk. The steamer proved to be the _Khedive_, built by Samuda Brothers in 1869, and is about ninety feet long by seventeen or eighteen feet wide; draught five feet. Though nearly twenty years old, she is still serviceable though slow. The upper works look well enough, but she is much patched below water, I am told. On board, besides the Pasha, were Casati, Vita Hassan, a Tunisian apothecary, some Egyptian clerks, an Egyptian lieutenant, and some forty Soudanese soldiers, besides a fine crew. Sometimes, from the familiar sounds heard during moments of abstraction, I fancied myself at Alexandria or on the Lower Congo; but, looking up, and taking a sweeping view around, I became assured that I was on board of a steamer afloat on Lake Albert. As we move slowly about a mile and a half from the shore northward, the lofty mass of the plateau of Unyoro is to our right, and to our left is an equally formidable plateau wall, the ascents and descents of which we know so well. By a glance at the mass of Unyoro, which is darkly blue, I see the reason Baker gave the name of Blue Mountains to our plateau wall, for were we steaming along the Unyoro shore the warm vapour would tint our plateau wall of similar colour. When we have left Nyamsassi Island astern, a damp sheet of rock, wetted by the stream we crossed yesterday in our descent, glistens in the sun like a mirror, and makes it resemble a clear falling sheet of water. Hence Baker gave it the name of a Cascade, as seen by him from the eastern side. Dr. Junker and Dr. Felkin, especially in the _Graphic_ numbers of January, 1887, made us expect a nervous, wiry, tall man of six feet, or thereabouts, but in reality Emin Pasha does not exceed 5 feet 7 inches in height. I remember that the former was anxious that the trousers ordered in Cairo for his friend should be long enough in the extremities. About six inches were cut off the legs before they fitted. He tells me he is forty-eight years old. In appearance he does not indicate such an age; his beard is dark almost to blackness, while his activity would befit a man of thirty or thirty-five. The Pasha tells me that he has visited Monbuttu, but, like the travellers Schweinfürth, Casati, Piaggia, and Junker, he has not made any astronomical observations, but confined himself solely to the compass survey. The meteorology of this climate, however, has received greater attention, as might be expected from his methodical habitude of mind. About noon we anchored off Nsabé, and I went ashore to bestir the men to make a respectable camp suitable for a protracted halt in a country that we might well call dangerous owing to the proximity of Kabba Rega. That king, having thrown down the gage of battle to Emin Pasha, might fancy himself strong enough, with his 1,500 rifles, to test our strength; or the Waganda, during their raids, might hear of our vicinity and be tempted by expected booty to make a visit to us. This evening Emin Pasha came ashore, and we had a lengthy conversation, but after all I am unable to gather in the least what his intentions may be. I have delivered to him his mails, the Khedive's "High Order," and Nubar Pasha's letter. I had an idea that I might have to wait about two weeks, when we would all march to the plateau and occupy a suitable spot in Undusuma, where, after seeing everything done for complete security and comfort, I could leave him to return to the assistance of the rear column. On being re-united we could resume our march within a few days for Zanzibar; but the Pasha's manner is ominous. When I propose a return to the sea to him, he has the habit of tapping his knee, and smiling in a kind of "We shall see" manner. It is evident he finds it difficult to renounce his position in a country where he has performed viceregal functions. After laying before him at some length the reasons of the abandonment of the Equatorial Provinces by Egypt he replied, "I see clearly the difficulty Egypt is in as regards retention of these provinces, but I do not see so clearly my way of returning. The Khedive has written to me that the pay of myself, officers and men will be settled by the Paymaster General if we return to Egypt, but if we stay here we do so at our own risk and on our own responsibility, and that we cannot expect further aid from Egypt. Nubar Pasha has written to me a longer letter, but to the same effect. Now, I do not call these instructions. They do not tell me that I must quit, but they leave me a free agent." "Well, I will supplement these letters with my own positive knowledge, if you will permit me, as the Khedive and Nubar Pasha are not here to answer for themselves. Dr. Junker arrived in Egypt telling the world that you were in great distress for want of ammunition, but that you had a sufficient quantity to defend your position for a year or perhaps eighteen months, providing no determined attack was made on you, and you were not called upon to make a prolonged resistance; that you had defended the Equatorial Provinces so far successfully; that you would continue to do so to the utmost of your ability, until you should receive orders from your Government to do otherwise; that you loved the country and people greatly; that the country was in a prosperous state--quiet and contented--possessed of almost everything required to maintain it in this happy condition; that you would not like to see all your work thrown away, but that you would much prefer that Egypt should retain these provinces, or failing Egypt, some European Power able and willing to continue your work. Did Dr. Junker report you correctly, Pasha?" "Yes, he did." "Well, then, the first idea that occurred to the minds of the Egyptian officials upon hearing Dr. Junker's report was, that no matter what instructions you received, you would be disinclined to leave your provinces, therefore the Khedive says that if you remain here, you do so upon your own responsibility, and at your own risk, and you are not to expect further aid from Egypt. "Our instructions are to carry a certain quantity of ammunition to you, and say to you, upon your obtaining it, 'Now we are ready to guide and assist you out of Africa, if you are willing to accompany us, and we shall be delighted to have the pleasure of your company; but if you decline going, our mission is ended.' "Let us suppose the latter, that you prefer remaining in Africa. Well, you are still young, only forty-eight; your constitution is still good. Let us say you will feel the same vigour for five, ten, even fifteen years longer; but the infirmities of age will creep on you, and your strength will fade away. Then you will begin to look doubtingly upon the future prospect, and mayhap suddenly resolve to retire before it is too late. Some route will be chosen--the Monbuttu route, for instance--to the sea. Say that you reach the Congo, and are nearing civilization; how will you maintain your people, for food must then be bought for money or goods? And supposing you reach the sea, what will you do then? Who will assist you to convey your people to their homes? You rejected Egypt's help when it was offered to you, and, to quote the words of the Khedive, 'You are not to expect further aid from Egypt.' "If you stay here during life, what becomes of the provinces afterwards? Your men will fight among themselves for supremacy, and involve all in one common ruin. These are grave questions, not to be hastily answered. If your provinces were situated within reasonable reach of the sea, whence you could be furnished with means to maintain your position, I should be one of the last to advise you to accept the Khedive's offer, and should be most active in assisting you with suggestions as to the means of maintenance; but here, surrounded as this lake is by powerful kings and warlike peoples on all sides, by such a vast forest on the west, and by the fanatic followers of the Mahdi on the north, were I in your place, I would not hesitate one moment what to do." "What you say is quite true," replied the Pasha, "but we have such a large number of women and children, probably 10,000 people altogether! How can they all be brought out of here? We shall want a great many carriers." "Carriers for what?" "For the women and children. You surely would not leave them, and they cannot travel." "The women must walk; for such children as cannot walk, they will be carried on donkeys, of which you say you have many. Your people cannot travel far during the first month, but little by little they will get accustomed to it. Our women on my second expedition crossed Africa; your women, after a little while, will do quite as well." "They will require a vast amount of provisions for the road." "Well, you have a large number of cattle, some hundreds, I believe. Those will furnish beef. The countries through which we pass must furnish grain and vegetable food. And when we come to countries that will accept pay for food, we have means to pay for it, and at Msalala we have another stock of goods ready for the journey to the coast." "Well, well. We will defer further talk of it till to-morrow." _May 1st_.--Halt at Nsabé. About 11 a.m. Emin Pasha came ashore, and upon being seated we resumed in a short time our conversation of last evening. "What you told me last night," began the Pasha, "has led me to think that it is best we should retire from Africa. The Egyptians are very willing to go I know. There are about fifty men of them besides women and children. Of those there is no doubt, and even if I stayed here I should be glad to be rid of them, because they undermine my authority, and nullify all my endeavours for retreat. When I informed them that Khartoum had fallen and Gordon Pasha was slain they always told the Nubians that the story was concocted by me, and that some day we should see the steamers ascend the river for their relief. But of the Regulars, who compose two battalions I am extremely doubtful. They have led such a free and happy life here, that they would demur at leaving a country where they enjoy luxuries such as they cannot hope for in Egypt. They are married, and besides, each soldier has his harem; most of the Irregulars would doubtless retire and follow me. Now supposing the Regulars refused to leave, you can imagine my position would be a difficult one. Would I be right in leaving them to their fate? Would it not be consigning them all to ruin? I should have to leave them their arms and ammunition, and on my retiring all recognized authority and discipline would be at an end. There would would presently rise disputes and factions would be formed. The more ambitious would aspire to be chiefs by force, and from rivalries would spring hate and mutual slaughter, involving all in one common fate." "It is a terrible picture you have drawn, Pasha," I said. "Nevertheless, bred as I have been to obey orders, no matter what may happen to others, the line of your duty, as a faithful officer to the Khedive, seems to me to be clear." "All you have to do, according to my idea, is to read the Khedive's letter to your troops, and ask those willing to depart with you to stand on one side, and those preferring to remain to stand on the other, and prepare the first for immediate departure, while to the latter you can leave what ammunition and guns you can spare. If those who remain number three-fourths or four-fifths of your force, it does not at all matter to any one what becomes of them, for it is their own choice, nor does it absolve you personally from the line of conduct duty to the Khedive directs." "That is very true," replied the Pasha; "but supposing the men surround me and detain me by force?" "That is unlikely, I should think, from the state of discipline I see among your men; but of course you know your own men best." "Well, I shall send the steamer down to-morrow with the Khedive's letter, and you would oblige me greatly if you would allow one of your officers to go and show himself to the troops at Dufflé. Let him speak to the men himself, and say that he has come from the representative of the Government, who has been specially sent by the Khedive to bring them out, and perhaps when they have seen him, and talked with your Soudanese, they will be willing to depart with us. If the people go, I go; if they stay, I stay." "Now supposing you resolve to stay, what of the Egyptians?" "Oh, those I shall have to ask you to take charge of." "Now will you be good enough to ask Captain Casati if we are to have the pleasure of his company to the coast, for we have been instructed to lend him every assistance in our power?" Captain Casati answered through Emin Pasha. "If the Governor Emin goes, I go; if he stays, I stay." "Well, I see, Pasha, that in the event of your staying your responsibilities will be great, for you involve Captain Casati in your own fate." (A laugh), and the sentence was translated to Casati, and the gallant Captain at once replied. "Oh, I absolve Emin Pasha from all responsibility connected with me, for I am governed by my own choice entirely." "May I suggest then, Pasha, if you elect to remain here, that you make your will?" "Will! What for?" "To dispose of your pay of course, which must by this time be considerable. Eight years I believe you said? Or perhaps you meditate leaving it to Nubar Pasha?" "I give Nubar Pasha my love. Pho! There can be only about two thousand and odd pounds due. What is such a sum to a man about to be shelved? I am now forty-eight and one of my eyes is utterly gone. When I get to Egypt they will give me some fine words and bow me out. And all I have to do is to seek out some corner of Cairo or Stamboul for a final resting-place. A fine prospect truly!" In the afternoon Emin Pasha came again to my tent, and during our conversation he said that he had resolved to leave Africa--"if his people were willing; if not, he would stay with them." I learned also that the Egyptians were only too willing to leave for their mother-land, and that there were about sixty-five of them. That the first battalion of Regulars numbered a little over 650, and that the second battalion amounted to nearly 800. That he had about 750 Remington rifles, and that the rest were armed with percussion muskets. _May 2nd._--The _Khedive_ steamer left this morning for the northward, first to Mswa Station, thence to Tunguru, fourteen and a half hours' steaming from hence; two days later she will sail for Wadelai, the third day for Dufflé. She carries letters from the Pasha to bring up sixty or seventy soldiers, a Major, and as many carriers as can be mustered. She will probably be fourteen days absent. In the meantime we await here her return. I omitted to state before that the Pasha brought with him, according to my letter, a few bullocks and milk cows, about forty sheep and goats, and as many fowls, besides several thousand pounds of grain, as rations to subsist the Expedition pending the time we should remain on the Nyanza, as the shore in the neighbourhood of Nsabé is entirely destitute of food except what may be obtained by hunting. With care we have quite three weeks' provisions on hand. Meanwhile the Pasha remains here with Captain Casati and about twenty soldiers, and is camped about 300 yards south of us. He and his people are comfortably hutted. There is every prospect of a perfect rest free from anxiety for some two weeks, while myself and officers will have the society of a most amiable and accomplished man in the Pasha. Casati does not understand English, and his French is worse than my own, so I am excluded from conversing with him. I learn from the Pasha, however, that Casati has had a difficult time of it in Unyoro. Until December last, things progressed tolerably well with him. Residing in Unyoro as Emin Pasha's Agent, he was the means of forwarding the Pasha's letter to Uganda, and transmitting such packets of letters, books, medicines, etc., that Mr. Mackay, Church Missionary Agent, could spare. Then from Uganda there came suddenly news to Kabba Rega of our Expedition, whose force rumour had augmented to thousands of well-appointed soldiers, who intended to unite with the Pasha's force, and sweep through Unyoro and Uganda devastating every land; and presently a packet of letters for myself and officers was put in Kabba Rega's hands, confirming in a measure the truth of this report. An officer was sent to Casati's house, and the Wanyoro pillaged him of every article, and bound him and his servants to a tree, besides treating him personally with every mark of indignity. Mohammed Biri, an Arab, who had been mainly the medium of communication between Casati and Mr. Mackay, was, I am told, treated in a worse fashion--probably executed as a spy and traitor. Captain Casati and his personal servants, after a while were led out from Unyoro, by Kabba Rega's officials, and when beyond the frontier were tied to trees again in a nude state. By some means, however, they managed to untie themselves and escape to the neighbourhood of the Lake, where one of the servants discovered a canoe and set out for the western shore across the Lake to Tunguru to obtain help from Emin Pasha. One of the Pasha's steamers came across the daring fellow, and the captain on hearing the news, after supplying his vessel with fuel, steamed away to acquaint the Pasha. In a few hours the _Khedive_ steamer was under way, commanded by the Governor in person, who had a detachment of soldiers with him. After searching for some time the eastern shore, as directed by Casati's servant, the steamer was hailed from shore by Casati, who in a few moments found himself safe in the arms of his friend. Some soldiers were sent on shore, and Kibero was burnt in retaliation for the injuries done to his agent. Of course, Casati, having been turned out naked into the wilderness, lost all his personal property, journals and memoirs, and with these our letters. The Captain placed a way-bill in my hand, wherein I learn that postal carriers left Zanzibar on the 27th July, just one month after we had left Yambuya, so that our letters were duly received at Msalala on the 11th September, and arrived at the Church Missionary Station in Uganda, November 1st; and that Captain Casati received six packets of letters on the 1st December, just twelve days before we arrived on the western shore of the Nyanza. As he was expelled on the 13th February, 1888, according to his account our mails seem to have long lain on his hands, probably no means having been presented of sending them to the Pasha. This morning 3 o'clock (Saat Tato) the hunter set out to shoot game for the camp, accompanied by a few young fellows anxious to participate in the sport. Two buffalo fell victims to the hunter's unerring aim, but a third one, wounded only in the leg, according to the cunning instinct of the beast, rushed away, and making a circle hid himself in some branchy acacias to await his opponent. Mabruki, the son of Kassin, thought he knew the art of buffalo hunting, and set out on the tracks of the wounded animal. The buffalo on the alert no sooner discovered his enemy, than uttering a hoarse bellows charged and tossed him, one of his horns entering the thigh of the unhappy man. While thus prostrate, he was pounded with the head, gored in the side, arms, and ripped in the body, until Saat Tato, hearing the screams, rushed to the rescue when almost too late, and planting a shot in the buffalo's head, rolled him over, dead. A young man hurried to camp to acquaint us with the sad accident. "Three o'clock" set out again, and shot four fine buck roan antelope. While Mabruki was being borne, shockingly mangled, in a cot to our camp, a strong detachment of men were bearing the remains of three buffaloes, and four roan antelopes to serve as provisions for a people already gorged with beef and grain, but, strange to say, there was as much eager clamour and loud demand for their due share as if the men were famished. On the night of April 30th a strong gale blew nearly all night, and the Pasha signalled to the _Khedive_ to drop two anchors. As there was good holding ground the steamer rode the gale safely. Since then we have had several strong squalls accompanied with rain day and night. _May 3rd_.--Nsabé Camp. Kavalli's people, like good subjects to their absent prince, came to visit him to-day, bringing with them ten baskets of potatoes, which were kindly distributed between us and Emin Pasha. During a long conversation this afternoon Emin Pasha stated, "I feel convinced that my people will never go to Egypt. But Mr. Jephson and the Soudanese whom you are kind enough to leave with me will have an opportunity to see and hear for themselves. And I would wish you would write out a proclamation or message which may be read to the soldiers, in which you will state what your instructions are, and say that you await their declaration. From what I know of them I feel sure they will never go to Egypt. The Egyptians, of course, will go, but they are few in number, and certainly of no use to me or to any one else." This has been the most definite answer I have received yet. I have been awaiting a positive declaration of this kind before venturing upon any further proposition to him. Now, to fulfil my promise to various parties, though they appear somewhat conflicting, I have two other propositions to make. My first duty is to the Khedive, of course; and I should be glad to find the Pasha conformable, as an obedient officer who kept his post so gallantly until ordered to withdraw. By this course he would realize the ideal Governor his letters created in my mind. Nevertheless, he has but to speak positively to induce me to assist him in any way to the best of my power. "Very well," I said; "and now pray listen, Pasha, to two other propositions I have the honour of making to you from parties who would be glad to avail themselves of your services. Added to that which comes from His Highness the Khedive, these two will make three, and I would suggest that, as there appears to be abundant time before you, that you examine each on its merits and elect for yourself. "Let me repeat them. The first proposition is that you still continue to be an obedient soldier and accompany me to Egypt. On arrival, yourself, your officers and men, will receive your pay up to date. Whether you will be employed by the Government in active service I do not know; I should think you would. Officers of your kind are rare, and Egypt has a frontier where such services as you could render would be valuable. In answer to this proposition you, however, say that you feel convinced your men will not depart from here, and that in the event of a declaration to that effect being given by them that you will remain with them. "Now, my second proposition to you comes from Leopold, King of the Belgians. He has requested me to inform you that in order to prevent the lapse of the Equatorial Provinces to barbarism, and provided they can yield a reasonable revenue, the Congo State might undertake the government of them if it could be done by an expenditure of about £10,000 or £12,000 per annum; and further, that his Majesty King Leopold was willing to pay a sufficient salary to you--£1,500 as Governor, with the rank of General--in the belief that such employment agrees with your own inclination. Your duty would be to keep open the communications between the Nile and Congo, and to maintain law and order in the Equatorial Provinces. "My third proposition is: If you are convinced that your people will positively decline the Khedive's offer to return to Egypt, that you accompany me with such soldiers as are loyal to you to the north-east corner of Victoria Nyanza, and permit me to establish you there in the name of the East African Association. We will assist you to build your fort in a locality suitable to the aims of such an association, leave our boat and such things as would be necessary for your purpose with you, and then hasten home across the Masai Land, lay the matter before the East African Association, and obtain its sanction for the act, as well as its assistance to establish you permanently in Africa. I must explain to you that I have no authority to make this last proposition, that it issues from my own goodwill to you, and with an earnest desire to save you and your men from the consequences of your determination to remain here. But I feel assured that I can obtain its hearty approval and co-operation, and that the Association will readily appreciate the value of a trained battalion or two in their new acquisition, and the services of such an administrator as yourself. "Pray, grant me a patient hearing for a moment or two while I explain definitely to you your position here. The whole system of Egyptian extension up to the Albert Nyanza was wrong. In theory it was beautiful, and it was natural. What more natural than that the Government established at the mouth of a river should desire to extend its authority up along the banks to its source, and such a source as the Nile has. Unhappily, however, it was an Egyptian Government, which, however honest in its intentions, could only depend upon officials of the lowest moral quality and mental calibibre. It is true the chief official in these regions has been a Baker, or a Gordon, or an Emin, but all the subordinates were Egyptians or Turks. As you multiplied your stations and increased your posts, you lessened your own influence. While in the centre of your orbit there might be a semblance of government; the outer circles remained under the influences of Turkish and Egyptian officers of some Cairene Pasha, or Bey, or Effendi, whose conduct was licentious and capricious. By military force the country was taken and occupied, and by force the occupation has been maintained ever since. A recognized Government, even if it be that of Egypt, has a legal and moral right to extend its authority and enlarge its domain. If it executes its will effectively, so much the better. Civilization will be benefited, and all peoples are better under a constituted Government than under none. But was there an effective Government? As far as Lado and Gondokoro, near the White Nile Cataracts, it was tolerable I admit. Steamers could steam from Berber as far as Lado, and the chief official could superintend such sub-Governments as were established, but when, before making roads or preparing and ensuring the means of communication, the Egyptian Government approved the acts of expansion undertaken over the immense, trackless, inaccessible area of the extreme Soudan, it invited the catastrophe that happened. When Mohammed Achmet fired the combustible material that the extortionate subordinates had gathered, the means for extinguishing the flames were scattered over an area of about 500,000 square miles. The Governor-General was slain, his capital taken; one province after another fell; and their governors and soldiery, isolated and far apart, capitulated; and you, the last of these, only saved yourself and men by retreating from Lado. Expanded on the same system, and governed only by the presence of military, these former Egyptian acquisitions, if retaken would invite a similar fate. If the military occupation were effective, and each sub-Government cohered to the other, the collapse of the Government need not be feared; but it can never be effective under Egypt. Neither her revenues nor her population can afford it. In the absence of this, only self-interest of the peoples governed can link these distant territories to the Government of Egypt; and this is an element which seems never to have been considered by those responsible for this sudden overgrowth of Cairene empire. When has this self-interest of the people been cultivated or fostered? The captains marched their soldiery to a native territory, raised a flag-staff, and hoisted the red banner with the crescent, and then with a salute of musketry declared the described district around formally annexed to Egypt. Proclamations were issued to all concerned, that henceforth the ivory trade was a monopoly of the Government; and in consequence, such traders as were in the land were deprived of their livelihood. When, to compensate themselves for the loss of profit incurred by these measures, the traders turned their attention to slaves, another proclamation crushed their enterprise in that traffic also. A large number of the aborigines derived profit from the sale of ivory to the traders, others had lame interests in the capture and sale of slaves, while the traders themselves, having invested their capital in these enterprises, discovered themselves absolutely ruined, both money and occupation gone. Remember, I am only considering the policy. Thus there were left in the Soudan hundreds of armed caravans, and each caravan numbered from a score to hundreds of rifles. When Mohamed Achmet raised the standard of revolt he had some advantages to offer to the leaders of these caravans made desperate by their losses. What had the Government officials to offer? Nothing. Consequently all vestiges of the Government that had been so harsh, so arbitrary, and unwise, were swept away like chaff. It was to the interest of traders to oppose themselves to the Government, and to endeavour to restore a state of things which, though highly immoral as considered by us, to them meant profit, and, what is more, relief from oppression. "Now consider the Congo State, which has extended itself much more rapidly than Egyptian authority was extended in the Soudan. Not a shot has been fired, no violence has been offered to either native or trader, not a tax has been levied except at the seaport where the trader embarks his exports. Native chiefs voluntarily offered their territories, and united under the blue flag with the golden star. Why? Because there were many advantages to be derived from the strangers living among them. First, they were protected against their stronger neighbours, every eatable they could raise and sell brought its full value to them of such clothing and other necessaries they needed. Whatever trade they had--ivory, rubber, palm-oil, or kernels--was free and untaxed, and their native customs, or domestic matters, were not interfered with. It was founded without violence, and subsists without violence; when, however, the Congo State initiates another policy, taxes their trade, lays hands upon the ivory as a Government monopoly, meddles with their domestic institutions, absorbs tyrannically all the profits of the European trader, before it is firmly established on the soil, and gathered about its stations sufficient physical force to enable it to do so with impunity, the Congo State will collapse just as disastrously and as suddenly as was the case with Egyptian authority in the Soudan. The disaster that occurred at Stanley Falls station is an indication of what may be expected. "Now every man who reflects at all will see that these Provinces of yours can never be re-occupied by Egypt while Egypt is governed by Egyptian officials. Egypt cannot afford the sums necessary to maintain an effective occupation over a territory so remote. They are too distant from Wadi Haifa, the present true limit of her territory. When she connects Wadi Haifa with Berber, or Khartoum or Suakim with Berber by railway, Lado may be considered the extreme southern limit of her territory. When a railway connects Lado with Dufflé the true limit of Egyptian authority will be the southern end of this Lake, provided always that the military force will be sufficient to maintain this mode of communication uninterrupted. When do you think all this will happen? During your lifetime? "Who else, then, will be so quixotic as to cast a covetous eye on these Provinces? The King of the Belgians? Well, there is a stipulation connected with this proposal, and that is, if the Provinces can 'give a reasonable revenue.' You are the best judge of this matter, and whether £10,000 or £12,000 subsidy will suffice for the support of the Government of these Provinces. The revenue, whatever it may be with this additional sum, must be sufficient to maintain about twenty stations between here and Yambuya, a distance of 650 miles or thereabouts; that is, to pay about 1,200 soldiers, about fifty or sixty officers, and a supreme Governor, furnish their equipments, the means of defence, and such transport force as may be necessary to unite the most distant part with the Congo. "Failing the King of the Belgians, who else will undertake your support and maintenance, befitting your station and necessity? There are enough kind-hearted people in this world possessed of sufficient superfluous means to equip an Expedition once, say, every three years. But this is only a temporary expedient for mere subsistence, and it scarcely responds to your wishes. What then? I await your answer, Pasha, again begging to be excused for being so talkative. "I thank you very much, Mr. Stanley, I do assure you, from my heart. If I fail to express my gratitude, it is because language is insufficient. But I feel your kindness deeply, I assure you, and will answer you frankly. "Now, to the first proposition you have made me, I have already given my answer. "To the second I would say that, first of all, my duty is to Egypt. While I am here, the Provinces belong to Egypt, and remain her property until I retire. When I depart they become 'no man's land.' I cannot strike my flag in such a manner, and change the red for the blue. I have served the first for thirty years; the latter I never saw. Besides, may I ask you if, with your recent experience, you think it likely that communication could be kept open at reasonable cost?" "Undoubtedly not at first. Our experiences have been too terrible to forget them soon; but we shall return to Yambuya for the rear column, I anticipate, with much less suffering. The pioneer suffers most. Those who follow us will profit by what we have learned." "That may be, but we shall be at least two years before any news can reach us. No, I do not think that proposition, with all due gratitude to His Majesty King Leopold, can be entertained, and therefore let us turn to the last proposition. "I do not think that my people would object to accompanying me to the Victoria Nyanza, as their objection, so far as I know, only applies to going to Egypt. Assuming that the people are willing, I admire the project very much. It is the best solution of the difficulty, and by far the most reasonable. For consider that three-fourths of the 8,000 people are women, children, and young slaves. What would the Government do with such a mass of people? Would it feed them? Then think of the difficulty of travel with such an army of helpless people. I cannot take upon myself the responsibility of leading such a host of tender-footed people to die on the road. The journey to the Victoria is possible. It is comparatively short. Yes, by far the last proposition is the most feasible." "There is no hurry, since you are to await the arrival of the rear column. Turn the matter over in your mind while I go to bring the Major up. You have certainly some weeks before you to consider the question thoroughly." I then showed him the printed Foreign Office despatches furnished to me by order of Lord Iddesleigh. Among these was a copy of his letter to Sir John Kirk, wherein he offered the Province in 1886 to England, and stated that he would be most happy to surrender the Province to the British Government, or, in fact, any Power that would undertake to maintain the Province. "Ah," said the Pasha, "they should never have published this letter. It was private. What will the Egyptian Government think of my conduct in venturing to treat of such a matter?" "I cannot see the harm," I replied; "the Egyptian Government declares its inability to keep the Province, the British Government will have nothing to do with it, and I do not know of any company or body of men who would undertake the maintenance of what I regard, under all the circumstances, as a useless possession. In my opinion it is just 500 miles too far inland to be of any value, unless Uganda and Unyoro have been first brought under law; that is, if you persist in declining King Leopold's offer. If you absolutely decline to serve the King of the Belgians, and you are resolved to stay in Africa, you must trust in my promise to get a British Company to employ you and your troops, which probably has by this time been chartered with the purpose of constituting a British possession in East Africa." ----- [M] The following entries must be read while bearing in mind that thirty-five days previously the Pasha had written to the Editor of Petermann's 'Mitteilungen' a letter, which he concluded with the significant words, "_If Stanley does not come soon, we are lost_." CHAPTER XVI. WITH THE PASHA (_continued_). Fortified stations in the Province--Storms at Nsabé--A nest of young crocodiles--Lake Ibrahim--Zanzibari raid on Balegga villages--Dr. Parke goes in search of the two missing men--The Zanzibaris again--A real tornado--The Pasha's gifts to us--Introduced to Emin's officers--Emin's cattle forays--The _Khedive_ departs for Mswa station--Mabruki and his wages--The Pasha and the use of the sextant--Departure of local chiefs--Arrival of the _Khedive_ and _Nyanza_ steamers with soldiers--Arrangements made to return in search of the rear-column--My message to the troops--Our Badzwa road--A farewell dance by the Zanzibaris--The Madi carriers' disappearance--First sight of Ruwenzori--Former circumnavigators of the Albert Lake--Lofty twin-peak mountain near the East Ituri River--Aid for Emin against Kabba Rega--Two letters from Emin Pasha--We are informed of an intended attack on us by chiefs Kadongo and Musiri--Fresh Madi carriers--We attack Kadongo's camp--With assistance from Mazamboni and Gavira we march on Musiri's camp which turns out to be deserted--A phalanx dance by Mazamboni's warriors--Music on the African Continent--Camp at Nzera-kum Hill--Presents from various chiefs--Chief Musiri wishes for peace. _May 4th._--Mswa, I am told, is 9 hours' distance from Nsabé camp by steamer, thence to Tunguru is 5 hours, and to Wadelai 18 hours. The other fortified stations are named Fabbo, east of Nile; Dufflé end of navigation; Horiyu, Laboré, Muggi, Kirri, Bedden, Rejaf, and three or four small stations inland, west of the Nile. He has spoken in a more hopeful tone to-day of the prospects of returning from the shores of the Albert, the Victoria Lake region appearing even more attractive than at first. But there is something about it all that I cannot fathom. _May 6th._--Halt at Nsabé. Another storm broke out to-day, commencing at 8 A.M., blowing from the north-east. The previous gales were south-easters, veering to east. Looking toward the steep slope of the plateau walls east and west of us, we saw it shrouded in mist and vapour, and rain-clouds ominous of tempests. The whole face of the Nyanza was foam, spray, and white rollers, which, as they approached the shore, we saw were separated by great troughs, very dangerous to any small craft that might be overtaken by the storm. _May 7th._--Halt at Nsabé. While at dinner with me this evening, the Pasha informed me that Casati had expressed himself very strongly against the route proposed to be taken, _viâ_ Usongora, south, and advised the Pasha to take the Monbuttu route to the Congo. From which I conclude that the Pasha has been speaking to Casati about going home. Has he then altered his mind about the Victoria? _May 8th._--Halt at Nsabé. Each day has its storm of wind and rain, loud thunder-claps, preceded by a play of lightning flashes, most beautiful, but terrible. Discovered a nest of young crocodiles, thirty-seven in number, having just issued from their egg-homes. By-the-bye, to those unacquainted with the fact, a crocodile has five claws on the fore feet, and only four claws on the hinder. It has been stated that a crocodile raises the upper jaw to devour, whereas the fact is it depresses the lower jaw like other animals. _May 9th, 10th._--Halt at Nsabé. _May 11th._--Food supply is getting low. Five men have wandered off in search of something, and have not returned since yesterday. I hope we are not going to be demoralized again. Mr. Jephson is suffering from a bilious attack. Lake Ibrahim, or Gita Nzige according to the Pasha, is only an expansion of the Victoria Nile, similar to that below Wadelai and Lake Albert, the Upper Congo, and Stanley Pool. Consequently it has numerous channels, separated by lines of islets and sand-bars. Both Gordon and Emin Pasha have travelled by land along its right bank. At 9 P.M. I received dismal intelligence. Four men, whom I observed playing on the sandy shore of the lake at 4 o'clock, suddenly took it into their heads to make a raid on some Balegga villages at the foot of the plateau N.N.W. from here. They were surrounded by the natives, and two of them seemed to have been killed, while the other two, who escaped, show severe wounds. _May 12th._--Halt at Nsabé. This morning sent Doctor Parke with forty-five rifles to hunt up the two missing men. One of them came in at 9 a.m. after a night spent in the wilderness. He has a deep gash in the back from a spear that had been hurled at him. Fortunately it did not penetrate the vital parts. He tells me he was exchanging meat for flour when he heard rifle shots ahead, and at once there was general alarm. The natives fled one way and he fled another, but presently found himself pursued, and received a spear wound in the back. He managed to outrun the pursuer, until in the deep grass of watercourse he managed to hide while a number of natives were searching for him. He lay there all night, and when the sun was up, lifted his head to take a look round, and seeing no one, made his way to the camp. I am never quite satisfied as to the manner of these accidents, whether the natives or the Zanzibaris are the aggressors. The latter relate with exceeding plausibility their version of the matter, but they are such adepts in the art of lying that I am frequently bewildered. The extraction of the truth in this instance seems to be so hopeless that I tell them I judge of the matter thus: "You Zanzibaris, so long as you receive five or six pounds of flour and as many pounds of meat daily, become so lazy, you would not go to the steamer for more to provide rations while she would be absent. She has been gone now several days, your rations are nearly exhausted, of course, for who can supply you with as much meat as you can waste, and you left camp without permission, to steal from the Balegga. There was quite a party of you, I hear, and most of you, on seeing the village fairly crowded with natives, were more prudent than others, and traded a little meat for flour, but your bolder companions passed on, and began to loot fowls. The natives resented this, shot their arrows at the thieves, who fired in return, and there was a general flight. One of your number has been killed. I have lost a rifle, and three more of you have been wounded, and will be unfit for work for a long time. That is the truth of the matter, and therefore I shall give you no medicines. Cure your own wounds if you can, and you three fellows, if you recover, shall pay me for my rifle. _May 13th._--Halt at Nsabé. The doctor returned from his quest of the missing without further incident than burning two small villages and firing a few shots at distant parties. He was unable to recover the body of the Zanzibari, or his Winchester rifle. Where he fell was marked with a good deal of blood, and it is probable that he wounded some of his foes. A real tornado blew last night. Inky clouds gathering to the S.E.E. and N.E. prepared us somewhat for a wet night, but not for the fearful volume of wind which pressed on us with such solid force as to wreck camp and lay low the tents. The sound, as it approached, resembled that which we might expect from the rupture of a dam or the rush from a collapsed reservoir. The rain, swept by such a powerful force, pierced everywhere. No precaution that we had been taught by past experience of this Nyanza weather availed us against the searching, penetrative power of the rain and its fine spray. From under the huts and tents, and along the ridge poles, through close shut windows, ventilators, and doors, the tornado drove the rain in until we were deluged. To contend against such power of wind and water in a pitchy darkness in the midst of a deafening uproar was so hopeless a task that our only refuge was to bear it in silence and with closed lips. Daylight revealed a placid lake, a ragged sky, plateau tops buried in masses of vapour, a wrecked camp, prostrate tents, and soaking furniture. So terrible was the roar of the surf that we should have wished to have viewed the careering rollers and tempestuous face of the lake by daylight. It is to be hoped that the old _Khedive_ was safely harboured, otherwise she must have foundered. _May 14th._--Halt at Nsabé. The steamer _Khedive_ arrived this afternoon, bringing in a supply of millet grain and a few milch cows. The Pasha came up smiling with welcome gifts for each of us. To me he gave a pair of stout walking shoes in exchange for a smaller pair of boots to be given him on my return with the rear column. Mr. Jephson was made happy with a shirt, a singlet, and a pair of drawers; while Dr. Parke. whose grand kit had been stolen by an absconding Zanzibari, received a blue jersey, a singlet, and a pair of drawers. Each of us also received a pot of honey, some bananas, oranges, and water melons, onions, and salt. I also received a pound of "Honey dew Tobacco" and a bottle of pickles. These gifts, such as clothes, that our officers have received from Emin Pasha, reveal that he was not in the extreme distress we had imagined, and that there was no necessity for the advance to have pressed forward so hurriedly.[N] We left all our comforts and reserves of clothing behind at Yambuya, that we might press on to the rescue of one whom we imagined was distressed not only for want of means of defence from enemies, but in want of clothing. Besides the double trip we have made to Lake Albert, I fear I shall have to travel far to go to the rescue of Major Barttelot and the rear column. God only knows where he is. He may not have left Yambuya yet, and if so we shall have 1300 miles extra marching to perform. It is a terribly long march through a forbidding country, and I fear I shall lose many and many a good soul before it is ended. However, God's will be done. He introduced to me to-day Selim Bey and Major Awash Effendi, and other officers. I had suggested to him two or three days ago that he could assist me greatly if he constructed a small station on Nyamsassi Island, where we would be sure to have easy communication with his people, on which he also could store a reserve of corn ready for the arrival of the united Expedition, and he readily promised me. But I confess to experiencing some wonder to-day when he turned to Awash Effendi, the Major, and said, rather pleadingly I thought, "Now promise me before Mr. Stanley that you will give me forty men to build this station, which Mr. Stanley so much desires." There is something about this that I do not understand. It is certainly not like my ideal Governor, Vice-King, and leader of men, to talk in that strain to subordinates. Had another conversation with Emin Pasha to-day, from which I feel convinced that we shall not only have to march to the Albert Nyanza again, but that we shall have to wait afterwards at least two months before he can get his people together. Instead of setting to work during our absence to collect his people and prepare for the journey, it is proposed to wait until my return with the rear column, when it is expected I shall go as far as Dufflé to persuade the people to follow me. He still feels assured his people will not go to Egypt, but may be induced to march as far as the Victoria Nyanza. I asked him if the report was true that he had captured 13,000 head of cattle during an incursion to the western cattle-lands. "Oh, no; it is an exaggeration. A certain Bakhit Bey succeeded in taking 8000 head during a raid he made in Makraka, during Raouf Pasha's Governor-Generalship; but he was severely censured for the act, as such wholesale raiding only tended to depopulate a country. That has been the greatest number of cattle obtained at one time. I have had occasion to order forays to be made to obtain food, but 1600 head has been the greatest number we have ever succeeded in obtaining at one time. Other forays have resulted in bringing us 500, 800, and 1200 head." Both yesterday and to-day have been very pleasant. The temperature of air in shade, according to Fahrenheit, has been as follows:-- 9 A.M. Breeze from S.E. 86° 10.30 A.M. 88°30" 1.30 P.M. 88°30" 7 P.M. 76° Midnight 73° 6 A.M. 73° Compensated aneroid. Mean 2·350 feet above sea. _May 16th._--Nsabé Camp. The steamer _Khedive_ departed this morning for Mswa Station and Tunguru, and probably for Wadelai, to hurry up a certain number of porters to replace our men lost by starvation in the wilderness. Captain Casati and Mons. Vita Hassan, the Tunisian apothecary, have sailed with her. In order to keep my men occupied, I have begun cutting a straight road through the plain towards Badzwa Village. When we take our departure hence we shall find our advantage in the shorter cut than by taking the roundabout path by Nyamsassi Island and the site of old Kavalli. Fetteh, our interpreter, wounded in the stomach at the skirmish of Bessé, is now quite recovered, and is fast regaining his old weight. Mabruki, the son of Kassim, so mangled by the buffalo the other day, is slowly improving. The man wounded by a spear in the back during his foray into the villages of Lando, shows also signs of rapid recovery. We live in hay-cock huts now, and may consider ourselves householders (according to Emin Pasha) of the Albert Nyanza Province. _May 17th._--Nsabé Camp. Our road is now 2,360 paces long towards Badzwa Village. _May 18th._-- Nsabé Camp. Our hunters, when receiving cartridges, insist on their being laid on the ground. Ill luck would follow if the cartridges were delivered to them from the hand. I have been instructing the Pasha in the use of the sextant the last two days preparatory to taking lessons in navigation. His only surveying instrument hitherto has been a prismatic compass, and as he has never been taught to discover its variation, it is probable that his surveys have been from magnetic bearings. The son of Kassim, the victim to the fury of an angry buffalo, called me this morning to his bedside, that I might register his last wishes respecting the wages due to him. His friend Maruf and adopted brother Sungoro are to be the legatees. Poor Mabruki desired to remember another friend, but the legatees _begged him not to fill the Master's book with names_. He was so dejected that I told him that the doctor had great faith that he would recover. "You are in no danger. Your wounds are very bad, but they are not mortal, and as the Pasha will take care of you in my absence, I shall find you a strong man when I return. Why do you grieve to-day?" "Ah, it is because something tells me I shall never see the road again. See, is not my body a ruin?" Indeed he was a pitiable sight, right eye almost obscured, two ribs broken, right thigh and fork lacerated in the most dreadful manner. The Chief Mbiassi of Kavalli departed homeward two days ago. Mpigwa, Chief of Nyamsassi, and his retinue left yesterday. Kyya-nkondo or Katonza, for he has two names, also went his way (which, by the way, is in the wilderness owing to a late visit of Kabba Rega's brigands), while Mazamboni's people after entertaining the Pasha and his officers with a farewell dance last night, took their leave this morning. Three buffalo and a water buck were shot yesterday by two of our hunters. The last four days and nights have given us better thoughts of this African land and lake shore than we previously entertained. The weather has been somewhat warm, but the lake breeze blowing light and soft, just strong enough to swing pendulous foliage, has been cooling and grateful. The nights have been more refreshing. In a sky of radiant brightness the moon has stood high above the plateau's crown, turning the lake into a quivering silver plain, the lake surf so blustering and restless, rolls in a slow and languid cadence on a gray shore of sand before the light breath of an eastern wind. As if to celebrate and honour this peaceful and restful life, the Zanzibaris and natives, who, last December were such furious foes, rival one another with song and chorus and strenuous dance to a late hour each night. [Illustration: THE STEAMERS "KHEDIVE" AND "NYANZA" ON LAKE ALBERT.] _May 19th._--Nsabé Camp. Our road towards Badzwa is now three and a third miles long. We have but to hoe up the grass along a line, and we have a beautiful path, with the almost imperceptible rise of 1 foot in 200. _May 20th._--Nsabé Camp. Captured two small brown snakes of a slight coppery tint in my tent this morning. _May 21st._--Nsabé Camp. The Pasha is now able to read the sextant very well. He has also made an advance towards finding index error; though he labours under the infirmity of short sight, he is quick and devoted to his intention of acquiring the art of observing by the instrument. At noon we took meridian altitude for practice. He observed altitude was 70° 54' 40" at one-and-half miles distant, height of eye five feet. Index error to add 3'15". _May 22nd._--Nsabé Camp. The steamers _Khedive_ and _Nyanza_, the latter towing a lighter, appeared to-day about 9 A.M., bringing 80 soldiers, with the Major and Adjutant of the 2nd Battalion, and 130 carriers of the Madi tribe. We received gifts of raki (ten-gallon demijohn, a kind of Russian vodka, from the Pasha's distillery, pomegranates, oranges, water-melons, and more onions, besides six sheep, four goats, and a couple of strong donkeys, one for myself and one for Doctor Park). The _Nyanza_ steamer is about 60 feet by 12. I propose leaving the Albert Lake for my journey in search of the rear column of the Expedition the day after to-morrow. I leave with the Pasha, Mr. Mounteney Jephson, three Soudanese soldiers, and Binza, Doctor Junker's boy, besides the unhappy Mabruki. Of the baggage we carried here, exclusive of thirty-one cases Remingtons already delivered, I leave two boxes Winchesters, one box of brass rods, lamp, and sounding iron; also my steel boat, _Advance_, with her equipments. In accordance with the request of the Pasha, I have drawn up a message, which Mr. Jephson will read to the troops. It is as follows:-- Soldiers,--After many months of hard travel, I have at last reached the Nyanza. I have come expressly at the command of the Khedive Tewfik, to lead you out of here and show you the way home. For you must know that the River el Abiad is closed, that Khartoum is in the hands of the followers of Mohamed Achmet, that the Pasha Gordon and all his people were killed, and that all the steamers and boats between Berber and the Bahr-Ghazal have been taken, and that the nearest Egyptian station to you is Wady Halfa, below Dongola. Four times the Khedive and your friends have made attempts to save you. First, Gordon Pasha was sent to Khartoum to bring you all home. After ten months of hard fighting Khartoum was taken, and Gordon Pasha was killed, he and his soldiers. Next came the English soldiers under Lord Wolseley to try and help Gordon Pasha out of his troubles. They were four days too late, for they found Gordon was dead and Khartoum was lost. Then a Doctor Lenz, a great traveller, was sent by way of the Congo to find out how you could be assisted. But Lenz could not find men enough to go with him, and so he was obliged to go home. Also a Doctor Fischer was sent by Doctor Junker's brother, but there were too many enemies in the path, and he also returned home. I tell you these things to prove to you that you have no right to think that you have been forgotten in Egypt. No, the Khedive and his Wazir, Nubar Pasha, have all along kept you in mind. They have heard by way of Uganda how bravely you have held to your post, and how stanch you have been to your duties as soldiers. Therefore they sent me to tell you this; to tell you that you are well remembered, and that your reward is waiting for you, but that you must follow me to Egypt to get your pay and your reward. At the same time the Khedive says to you, through me, that if you think the road too long, and are afraid of the journey, that you may stay here, but in that case you are no longer his soldiers; that your pay stops at once; and in any trouble that may hereafter befall you, you are not to blame him, but yourselves. Should you decide to go to Egypt, I am to show you the way to Zanzibar, put you on board a steamer and take you to Suez, and thence to Cairo, and that you will get your pay until you arrive there, and that all promotions given you will be secured, and all rewards promised you here will be paid in full. I send you one of my officers, Mr. Jephson, and give him my sword, to read this message to you from me. I go back to collect my people and goods, and bring them on to the Nyanza, and after a few months I shall come back here to hear what you have to say. If you say, Let us go to Egypt, I will then show you a safe road. If you say, We shall not leave this country, then I will bid you farewell and return to Egypt with my own people. May God have you in His keeping. Your good friend, (Signed) Stanley. _May 23rd._--Halt. The Zanzibaris entertained the Pasha and his officers to-night with a farewell dance. Though they are quite well aware of the dangers and fatigue of the journey before them, which will commence to-morrow, there are no symptoms of misgiving in any of them. But it is certain that some of them will take their last look of the Pasha to-morrow. _May 24th._--March to Badzwa village, 10 miles; performed it in 4 hours. Emin Pasha marched a company along our new road at dawn this morning, and halted it about two miles from the Lake. Having arranged the Madi carriers in their place in the column, the advance guard issued out from camp and took the road towards the west at 6.15 A.M. In half-an-hour we found the Pasha's Soudanese drawn up in line on one side of the road. They saluted us as we passed on, and the Pasha fervently thanked us and bade us good-bye. At the end of the new road twenty-one of the Madis broke from the line of the column and disappeared towards the north rapidly. Fourteen men were sent back to inform the Pasha, while we held on our way to Badzwa. About a mile from the village there was another stampede, and eighty-nine Madis deserted in a body, but not without sending a shower of arrows among the rear guard. The doctor, believing that this was preliminary to an attack on his small detachment, fired his rifle, and dropped a Madi dead, which precipitated the flight of the deserters. The remaining nineteen out of the 130 were secured. A second message was therefore sent to the Pasha acquainting him with the events of the march. When about five miles from Nsabé Camp, while looking to the south-east, and meditating upon the events of the last month, my eyes were directed by a boy to a mountain said to be covered with salt, and I saw a peculiar shaped cloud of a most beautiful silver colour, which assumed the proportions and appearance of a vast mountain covered with snow. Following its form downward, I became struck with the deep blue-black colour of its base, and wondered if it portended another tornado; then as the sight descended to the gap between the eastern and western plateaus, I became for the first time conscious that what I gazed upon was not the image or semblance of a vast mountain, but the solid substance of a real one, with its summit covered with snow. I ordered a halt and examined it carefully with a field-glass, then took a compass bearing of the centre of it, and found it bear 215° magnetic. It now dawned upon me that this must be the Ruwenzori, which was said to be covered with a white metal or substance believed to be rock, as reported by Kavalli's two slaves. This great mountain continued to be in sight most distinctly for two hours, but as we drew nearer to Badzwa at the foot of the plateau, the lofty wall of the plateau hid it from view. This discovery was announced to the Pasha in the second message I sent. When I come to reflect upon it, it strikes me as singular that neither Baker, Gessi, Mason, or Emin Pasha discovered it long ago. Gessi Pasha first circumnavigated the Albert Lake, steaming along the western shore towards the south, rounding the southern end of the lake and continuing his voyage along the eastern shore. Mason Bey, in 1877, is the next visitor, and he follows the track of Gessi with a view of fixing positions by astronomical observations, which his predecessor was unable to do. Emin Pasha, eleven years later, comes steaming south in quest of news of the white men reported to be at the south end of the Lake. If a fair view of this snowy mountain can be obtained from the plain of the Nyanza, a much better view ought to be obtained from the Lake, and the wonder is that none of these gentlemen saw it. Whereas Baker, casting his eyes in its direction, on a "beautifully clear day," views only an illimitable Lake. Messrs. Jephson and Parke, while carrying the boat from Kavalli's to the Lake, report that they saw snow on a mountain, and the latter officer, pointing to the little range of Unya-Kavalli, inquired of me on his return if it was possible that snow would be found on such hills. As their highest peak cannot be 5,500 feet above the sea, I replied in the negative, but the doctor said that he was equally certain that he had seen snow. I explained to him then that a certain altitude of about 15,000 feet in the Equatorial regions is required before rain can be congealed into permanent snow; that there might be a hail-storm or a fall of snow, caused by a cold current, even on low altitudes in a tropic region, but such cold would only be temporary, and the heat of tropic waters or tropic soil would in a few moments cause the hail and snow to disappear. Standing as we were in camp at Bundi, on the crest of the plateau, in plain view of Unya Kavalli and other hills, there was no height visible anywhere above 6000 feet of an altitude above the sea. Considering the above facts, it will be evident that it requires a peculiar condition of the atmosphere to enable one to see the mountain from a distance of 70 miles, which I estimate it at. Near objects, or those 10, 15, or 20 miles, an ordinarily clear atmosphere may enable us to distinguish; but in such a humid region as this is, on a bright day such a quantity of vapour is exhaled from the heated earth, that at 30 miles it would be intensified into a haze which no eyesight could penetrate. But at certain times wind-currents clear the haze, and expose to the view objects which we wonder we have not seen before. As, for instance, in December last, returning from Nyanza to Fort Bodo, I took compass bearings of a lofty twin-peak mountain from a table hill near the East Ituri River. I noted it down that the twin-peak mass was already seen, and I pointed it out to Mr. Jephson. Strange to say, I have never seen it since, though I have been twice over the ground. Kavalli passed our camp this afternoon with 400 men to assist Emin Pasha in a demonstration he proposes to make against Kabba Rega. Katonza and Mpigwa of Nyamsassi will also, perhaps, lend an equal number to his assistance. I received the following letters to-day from the Pasha. When he talks of pride and joy at being in our company, I think we are all unanimous in believing that he has given us as much pleasure as we have given him. Nsabé Camp, _25th May, 1888_, 5 A.M. Dear Sir, I should not need to tell you how distressed I have been when I heard of the misfortune happened by the desertion of our Madi people. I at once sent out different searching parties, but I am sorry to state that up to noon their efforts were of no avail, although Shukri Agha and his party, who went yesterday to Kahanama, have not returned. By a mere chance it happened that when Dr. Parke came a boat from Mswa station had arrived, bringing me intelligence of the arrival there of 120 porters from Dufflé. I therefore started immediately the _Khedive_ steamer to bring them here, and expect her back this very night, when, at her arrival, I shall start the whole gang, accompanied by a detachment of my people. Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your most splendid discovery of a snow-clad mountain. We will take it as a good omen for further directions on our road to Victoria.[O] I propose to go out on your track to-day or to-morrow, just to have a look at this giant. In expectance of two words of you this morning I venture to offer you my best wishes for the future. I always shall remember with pride and joy the few days I was permitted to consort with you. Believe me, dear Sir, Yours very sincerely, (Signed) Dr. M. Emin. Nsabé Camp, _26th May, 1888_, 2:30 A.M. Dear Sir, Your very welcome and most interesting note of yesterday has reached me at the hands of your men. The steamer has come in this very instant, but she brought only eighty-two carriers, the rest having run away on the road between Tunguru and Mswa. I send, therefore, these few men, accompanied by twenty-five soldiers and an officer, hoping they may be of some use to you. Their arms having been collected I handed them to the officer, from whom you will kindly receive them. We heard yesterday evening that your runaways had worked their way to Muganga, telling the people they were sent by me. The ten men you kindly sent here accompanying the carriers as well as Kavalli and his men. Having caught yesterday a spy of Ravidongo[P] in Katonza's Camp, I told this latter he would better retire, and he acted on this advice. I have acquainted Kavalli with my reasons for not interfering just now with Ravidongo, and have asked him to return to you. He readily assented; he had some presents, and starts now with the courier. He entreats me, further, to beg you to send some of your men to take hold of his brother Kadongo, who stays, says he, with the Wawitu somewhere near to his residence. I shall try hard to get a glimpse of the new snow mountain, as well from here as from some other points I propose to visit. It is wonderful to think how, wherever you go, you distance your predecessors by your discoveries. And now as this, for some time at least, is probably the last word I will be able to address you, let me another time thank you for the generous exertions you have made, and you are to make for us. Let me another time thank you for the kindness and forbearance you have shown me in our mutual relations. If I cannot find adequate words to express what moves me in this instant you will forgive me. I lived too long in Africa for not becoming somewhat negrofied. God speed you on your course and bless your work! Yours very faithfully, (Signed) Dr. Emin. _May 25th and 26th._--Halt at Badzwa. The Pasha has abandoned his idea of making a demonstration against Unyoro, and his allies, who have much to avenge, have been quickly dismissed homeward. In the afternoon Balegga descended from Bundi Hill Village, and secretly informed us that Kadongo and Musiri--the latter a warlike and powerful chief--have banded their forces together and intend to attack us on the road between Gavira's and Mazamboni's. We have given neither of them any cause for this quarrel, unless our friendship with their rivals may be deemed sufficient and legitimate. I have only 111 rifles and ten rounds of ammunition for each rifle, to reach Fort Bodo, 125 miles distant. If any determined attack is made on us in the open country, a few moments' firing will make us helpless. Therefore I shall have to resort to other measures. It was held by Thomas Carlyle that it was the highest wisdom to know and believe that the stern thing which necessity ordered to be done was the wisest, the best, and the only thing wanted there. I will attack Kadongo first, and then march straight upon Musiri, and we will spend our last shots well, if necessary. It may be this bold movement will upset the combination. The Pasha has acted quickly. Eighty-two fresh carriers arrived at noon, under a strong guard, and three soldiers specially detailed to accompany me. On their delivery to us, each Zanzibari received a Madi to guard. At half-past three in the afternoon we commenced the steep ascent up the terrible slope of the plateau, with a burning sun in our front, and reached the crest at Bundi camp at 6.30 P.M., a half-hour after sunset. After placing strong guards round the camp, I selected a band of forty rifles of the choicest men under two Zanzibari chiefs, and prepared them for a surprise party to attack Kadongo's camp by night. A few of our native allies volunteered to show the hill village he was occupying. At 1 A.M. the party was despatched. _May 27th._--At 8 A.M. the party detailed against Kadongo returned, having effected their mission most successfully, but Kadongo himself escaped by crying out that he was a friend of "Bula Matari." No cattle or goats were taken, because the place was only occupied by Kadongo's band for temporary purposes. We then lifted our burdens and began our march towards Gavira's. We had barely started when we discovered a large band of men advancing towards us, preceded by a man bearing a crimson flag, which at a distance might be taken for that of Zanzibar or Egypt. We halted, wondering what party this might be, but in a few moments we recognised Katto, Mazamboni's brother, who had been sent by his chief to greet us and learn our movements. We admired the aptness of these people in so soon learning to follow the direction given to them, for had not the flag held us in suspense, we might have injured our friends by taking them for the van of Musiri's war-party. Retaining a few of them to follow us, I ordered Katto to return quickly to Mazamboni, his brother, and secretly inform him that as Musiri intended to attack us on the road, I intended to attack him at dawn the day after to-morrow, and that I expected from Mazamboni, as my ally, that he would bring as many men as he could sometime that next day. Katto declared the thing possible, though it was a short notice for the distance to be travelled. We were at the time six miles from Gavira's, thence to Mazamboni's village was thirteen miles, and back again to Gavira's would be another thirteen miles, and in the meantime some delay would be necessary to secretly muster a sufficient body of warriors becoming Mazamboni's rank, and prepare rations for a few days. We arrived at Gavira's about noon. Here I proposed to Gavira to join me in the attack, which the chief as readily promised. _May 28th._--Halt. We have received abundant contributions of food for our force, which numbers now 111 Zanzibaris, 3 whites, 6 cooks and boys, 101 Madis, and 3 soldiers belonging to the Pasha--total 224, exclusive of a few dozen natives who voluntarily follow us. An hour after sunset Mazamboni arrived in person with about 1000 warriors armed with bows and spears. His force was camped in the potato fields between Gavira's and Musiri's district. _May 29th._--At three o'clock a.m. we set out for Usiri on a N.W. road, a bright moon lighting the way. About 100 of the boldest of Mazamboni's corps preceded our force. The others fell in line behind, and Gavira's tribe, represented by about 500 men, brought up the rear. A deep silence, befitting our purpose, prevailed. At 6 A.M. we reached the outskirts of Usiri, and in a few moments, each chief having received his instructions, Dr. Parke, in charge of sixty rifles to keep the centre, Katto, in charge of his brother's warriors to form the left wing, and Mpinga and Gavira with his men to form the right, the attacking force moved on swiftly. The results were ludicrous in the extreme. Mpinga's Wahuma herdsmen had given notice to Musiri's Wahuma herdsmen, and Mazamboni's Wahuma had been just as communicative to their fellow-countrymen with the enemy. Consequently the herdsmen had driven all the herds from Usiri by other roads; a half of them arrived at Gavira's, and the other half at Mazamboni's, just at the same morning when the attacking force poured over the land of Usiri, and Musiri, the chief, after hearing of the disaster to Kadongo, and of the mighty army to be brought against him, took tender care that not one soul under his sway should be injured. The land was quite empty of people, herds, flocks, and fowls, but the granaries were heaped full of grain, the fields exhibited abundant crops of potatoes, beans, young Indian corn, vegetables, and tobacco. I am secretly glad of the bloodless termination of the affair. My object has been gained. We have saved our extremely scanty supply of ammunition, and the road is clear from further trouble. Mazamboni and Gavira, I believe, were also delighted, though they expressed themselves mortified. In one of the huts was discovered the barrel of a carbine and percussion lock. The latter bore the brand of "John Clive III., 530." This is a relic of Kabba Rega's visit, whose men were sadly defeated by Musiri about a year ago. In the afternoon Mazamboni's warriors, 1000 strong, joined to celebrate the bloodless victory over Musiri in a phalanx dance. Dancing in Africa mainly consists of rude buffoonery, extravagant gestures, leaping and contortions of the body, while one or many drums keep time. There is always abundance of noise and loud laughter, and it serves the purpose of furnishing amusement to the barbarians, as the dervish-like whirling and pirouetting give to civilised people. Often two men step out of a semicircle of their fellow villagers, and chant a duet to the sound of a drum or a horn amid universal clapping of hands, or one performs a solo while dressed most fantastically in cocks' feathers, strings of rattling gourds, small globular bells, and heaps of human, monkey, and crocodile teeth, which are the African jewels; but there must always be a chorus, the grander the better, and when the men, women, and children lift their voices high above the drums, and the chatter and murmur of the crowd, I must confess to having enjoyed it immensely, especially when the Wanyamwezi are the performers, who are by far the best singers on the African continent. The Zanzibaris, Zulus, Waiau, Wasegara, Waseguhha, and Wangindo are in the main very much alike in method and execution, though they have each minor dances and songs, which vary considerably, but they are either dreadfully melancholiac or stupidly barbarous. The Wasoga, Waganda, Wakerewé, Wazongora, around Lake Victoria, are more subdued, a crude bardic, with something of the whine of the Orient--Mustapha, or Hussein, or Hassan, moaning below lattices to the obdurate Fatima or stony-eared Roxana. Except the Wanyamwezi, I have not heard any music or seen any dance which would have pleased an English audience accustomed to the plantation dances represented in a certain hall in Piccadilly until this day, when the Bandussuma, under Katto, the brother of Mazamboni, led the chief warriors to the phalanx dance. Half a score of drums, large and small, had been beaten by half a score of accomplished performers, keeping admirable time, and emitting a perfect volume of sound which must have been heard far away for miles, and in the meantime Katto, and his cousin Kalengé, adorned with glorious tufts of white cocks' feathers, were arranging thirty-three lines of thirty-three men each as nearly as possible in the form of a perfect and solid and close square. Most of these men had but one spear each, others possessed two besides their shields and quivers, which were suspended from the neck down the back. The phalanx stood still with spears grounded until, at a signal from the drums, Katto's deep voice was heard breaking out into a wild triumphant song or chant, and at a particular uplift of note raised his spear, and at once rose a forest of spears high above their heads, and a mighty chorus of voices responded, and the phalanx was seen to move forward, and the earth around my chair, which was at a distance of fifty yards from the foremost line, shook as though there was an earthquake. I looked at the feet of the men and discovered that each man was forcefully stamping the ground, and taking forward steps not more than six inches long, and it was in this manner that the phalanx moved slowly but irresistibly. The voices rose and fell in sweeping waves of vocal sound, the forest of spears rose and subsided, with countless flashes of polished iron blades as they were tossed aloft and lowered again to the hoarse and exciting thunder of the drums. There was accuracy of cadence of voice and roar of drum, there was uniform uplift and subsidence of the constantly twirling spear blades, there was a simultaneous action of the bodies, and as they brought the tremendous weight of seventy tons of flesh with one regular stamp of the feet on the ground, the firm and hard earth echoed the sound round about tremulously. With all these the thousand heads rose and drooped together, rising when venting the glorious volume of energy, drooping with the undertone of wailing murmur of the multitude. As they shouted with faces turned upward and heads bent back to give the fullest effect to the ascending tempest of voices, suggestive of quenchless fury, wrath and exterminating war, it appeared to inflate every soul with the passion of deadly battle and every eye of the onlookers glowed luridly, and their right arms with clenched fists were shaken on high as though their spirits were thrilled with the martial strains; but as the heads were turned and bowed to the earth we seemed to feel war's agony, and grief, and woe, to think of tears, and widows' wails, and fatherless orphans' cries, of ruined hearths and a desolated land. But again as the mass, still steadily drawing nearer, tossed their heads backward, and the bristling blades flashed and clashed, and the feathers streamed and gaily rustled, there was a loud snort of defiance and such an exulting and energising storm of sound that man saw only the glorious colours of victory and felt only the proud pulses of triumph. Right up to my chair the great solid mass of wildly chanting natives advanced, and the front line lowered their spears in an even line of bright iron; thrice they dropped their salute and thrice they rose, and then the lines, one after another, broke into a run, spears clenched in the act of throwing, staffs quivering, war-whoops ringing shrilly. The excitement was intensified until the square had been transformed into wheeling circles three deep, and after three circlings round the open plaza, Prince Katto took his position, and round him the racing men coiled themselves until soon they were in a solid circle. When this was completed the square was formed, it was divided into halves, one half returning to one end, the other half to the other end. Still continuing the wild chant, they trotted towards one another and passed through without confusion, exchanging sides, and then once more in a rapid circling of the village common with dreadful gestures until the eye was bewildered with the wheeling forms, and then every man to his hut to laugh and jest, little heeding what aspects they had conjured by their evolutions and chants within me, or any one else. It was certainly one of the best and most exciting exhibitions I had seen in Africa. [Illustration: A PHALANX DANCE BY MAZAMBONI'S WARRIORS.] _May 30th._--March to Nzera-Kum Hill in Ndusuma, three hours. We marched to Mazamboni's country to our old camp at Chongo, which name the Zanzibaris have given to the hill of Nzera-Kum, and we had abundant evidence that Mazamboni was deeply implicated in the acts of the Wahuma herdsmen, for the track was fresh and large of many a fine herd of cattle. Presently we came in sight of the fine herds, who, all unconscious of trouble, were browsing on the fine pasture, and the Zanzibaris clamoured loudly for permission to capture them. For an instant only there was a deep silence, but Mazamboni, on being asked the reason for the presence of Musiri's herds on his territory, answered so straightforwardly that they belonged to the Wahuma who had fled from his territory last December when he was in trouble with us, and now to avoid the same trouble in Usiri had returned to their former place, and he had not the heart to prevent them, that the order was given to move on. _May 31st._--Halt. Mazamboni gave us a present of three beeves and supplied our people with two days full rations of flour, besides a large quantity of potatoes and bananas. A large number of small chiefs from the surrounding districts paid visits to us, each bringing into camp a contribution of goats, fowls, and millet flour. Urumangwa, Bwessa, and Gunda have also made pacts of friendship with us. These villages form the very prosperous and extensively cultivated district which so astonished us by its abundance one December morning last year. Towards evening I received a communication from Musiri, saying that as all the land had made peace with me, he wished to be reckoned as my friend, and that the next time I should return to the country he would be prepared with suitable gifts for us. As to-morrow I propose to resume the journey towards Fort Bodo and Yambuya, let me set down what I have gleaned from the Pasha respecting himself. ----- [N] Yet, Emin Pasha wrote a letter on the 25th March, 1888, to the Editor of Petermann's Magazine, fifty days previously, which he concluded with the words, "If Stanley does not come soon, we are lost." [O] It is clear that he was smitten with the Victoria Lake proposition. [P] Ravidongo, one of the principal generals of Kabba Rega. CHAPTER XVII. PERSONAL TO THE PASHA. Age and early days of Emin Pasha--Gordon and the pay of Emin Pasha--Last interview with Gordon Pasha in 1877--Emin's last supply of ammunition and provisions--Five years' isolation--Mackay's library in Uganda--Emin's abilities and fitness for his position--His linguistic and other attainments--Emin's industry--His neat journals--Story related to me by Shukri Agha referring to Emin's escape from Kirri to Mswa--Emin confirms the story--Some natural history facts related to me by Emin--The Pasha and the Dinka tribe--A lion story--Emin and "bird studies." It is not my purpose to make a biographical sketch of Emin Pasha, but to furnish such items of information as he delivered them to me, day by day, concerning the life he has led in the Soudan, and his acquaintance with his illustrious chief--the ever-lamented Gordon. By birth he is a German, but whether Austrian or Prussian I know not, and I have no curiosity to know the name of the obscure village or town where that event happened. He declares he is forty-eight years old, and must therefore have been born in the year 1840. I fancy that he must have been young when he arrived in Constantinople, that some great man assisted him in his medical studies, that through the same influence probably he entered the Turkish service, and became medical attendant on Ismail Hakki Pasha. If for thirty years he has served under the crescent flag as he himself reported, he must have begun his service in Turkey in the year 1858. He became attracted to the "Young Turk" party, or to the reform party, in Stamboul. It had an organ, which, by its bold advocacy of reform, was three times suppressed by the authorities. On the last suppression he was expelled from the country. He admits that he was in Constantinople when the assassination of the Sultan Abdul Aziz occurred, though he was absent during the trial of those suspected to be concerned in it. Coming to Egypt in December, 1875, he entered the Egyptian service, and was despatched to Khartoum. * * * * * "Gordon first appointed me as surgeon at £25 a month. He then raised me to £30, and after my mission to Uganda he surprised me with increasing my pay to £40, but when I became Governor of this Province my pay like other Provincial Governors' became £50 monthly. What the pay of a General is I do not know, but then I am only a 'Miraman,' a kind of civilian Pasha, who receives pay while employed, but immediately his services are not required he becomes unpaid. I expected to be made a military Pasha--a General of Division." * * * * * "Now Gordon appointed the German Vice-Consul at Khartoum as my agent, to receive my pay, without any advice from me about it. For several months I believe it was paid to him regularly. But finally Gordon appointed the same Vice-Consul Governor of Darfour, when he shortly after died. When his effects were collected and his small debts paid, there were found sufficient funds to present his wife with £500 and send her to Cairo, and to transfer £50 to my account as his principal creditor. A few months afterwards Khartoum fell, and what money had been deposited there after the Vice-Consul's death was lost of course. So that for eight years I have received no pay at all." * * * * * "My last interview with Gordon Pasha was in 1877. There had been an Expedition sent to Darfour, under Colonel Prout, and another under Colonel Purdy, for survey work. When Gordon became Governor-General, he requested Stone Pasha, at Cairo, to despatch to him one of these officers, for survey work in the Equatorial Province. Gessi Pasha had already circumnavigated the Albert, but his survey was by compass only. Both Prout Bey and Mason Bey were capital observers. Prout Bey was the first to arrive. He travelled from Lado to Fatiko, thence to Mruli, on the Victoria Nile, and from there he proceeded to Magungo, on the Albert Nyanza, and by a series of observations he fixed the position of that point for all time. Illness compelled him to retire to my station at Lado. Just then Mason Bey arrived in a steamer, to survey the Albert Lake, and by that steamer I received an order to descend to Khartoum, to be made Governor of Massowah, on the Red Sea. The French Consul of that place had a misunderstanding with the civil Governor there, and he had begged that if another Governor was appointed, he should be some person who could understand French. I suppose Gordon, knowing me to be familiar with the language, had elected me. On reaching Khartoum I was very cordially received by Gordon, and he insisted on my taking my meals with him, which was a great favour, as he seldom invited anybody to eat with him. However, I declined living in the palace, and breakfasted at home, but lunch and dinner Gordon insisted I should take with him. He had abundance of work for me--letters to the Egyptian Pashas and Beys of the various provinces; letters to the Catholic Mission of Gondokoro; letters to the Pope, to the Khedive, &c., in Italian, German, and Arabic. This went on for some time, when one day he sent me on a mission to Unyoro. A little later I ascended the river, and I have never seen Gordon since." * * * * * "In June, 1882, Abdul Kader Pasha wrote me that in a couple of months he would despatch a steamer to me with provisions and ammunition. After waiting nine months I obtained fifteen cases only of ammunition, in March, 1883. That is really the last supply of anything received from the outside world until your recent arrival in April, 1888. Five years exactly!" * * * * * "During five years I have remained isolated in this region; not idle, I hope. I have been kept busy in the affairs of my Province, and have managed to find pleasure in many things. Still, the isolation from the civilized world has made life rather burthensome. I could enjoy life here to the end, could I but obtain regular news, and was certain of communication with the outer world, receive books, periodicals, every month, two months, or even three months. I envy those missionaries in Uganda who receive their monthly packet of letters, newspapers and books. Mr. Mackay has quite a library in Uganda. That packet of "honey-dew" tobacco I gave you the other day I obtained from him. I received also a couple of bottles of liquor, have had clothes, writing paper, and such news as I know I discovered in the _Spectators_ and _Times_ now and then sent me by him. But there are certain books upon subjects which I am interested in that I could never obtain through him without giving him and his friends far too great a trouble. Therefore I should wish a postal service of my own, then my life would be relieved of its discontent. Ah, those eight years of silence! I cannot put my feelings in words. I could not endure them again." * * * * * I have already described his person and age, and certain qualities of his character may be discerned in the conversation reported above; still, the man would be scarcely understood in the full compass of his nature if I stopped here. His abilities, and capacity, and fitness for the singular position in which he has been placed will be seen in the manner in which he has managed to clothe many of his troops. Among the gifts he pressed upon us were pieces of cotton cloth woven by his own men, coarse but strong, and slippers and shoes from his own bootmakers. The condition of his steamers and boats after such long service, the manufacture of oil suitable for the engines (a mixture of sesamum oil and tallow), the excellent sanitary arrangements and cleanliness and order of the stations under his charge, the regular and ungrudging payment of corn tribute twice a year by his negro subjects, all serve to demonstrate a unique character, and to show that he possesses talents rarely seen in those who select Africa for their field of labour. In endeavouring to estimate him, I pass in mental review hundreds of officers who have served on the Nile and the Congo, and I know of but few who would be equal to him in any one of his valuable qualities. Besides his linguistic attainments, he is a naturalist, something of a botanist, and, as a surgeon, I can well believe that thirty years of an adventurous life such as his has been would furnish him with rare opportunities to make him wise and skilful in his profession. The language he has used, as may be seen above, is something higher than colloquial, and marks his attainments in English. With his full sonorous voice and measured tones, it sounded very pleasantly, despite the foreign accent. Upon any policy treated of in newspapers and reviews I found him exceedingly well informed, no matter what country was broached. His manner is highly courteous and considerate, somewhat, perhaps, too ceremonious for Central Africa, but highly becoming a Governor, and such as one might expect from an official of that rank, conscious of serious responsibilities. Industry seems to be a vital necessity of life with him. He is a model of painstaking patient effort. No sooner has he camped than he begins to effect arrangements orderly and after method. His table and chair have their place, his journals on the table, the aneroids on a convenient stand, dry and wet bulb thermometers duly exposed in the shade, with ample air-flow about them. The journals are marvels of neatness--blotless, and the writing microscopically minute, as though he aimed at obtaining a prize for accuracy, economy, neatness and fidelity. Indeed, most Germans of my acquaintance are remarkable for the bulk of their observations and super-fine caligraphy, while English-speaking travellers whom I have known possess note-books which, useful as they may be to themselves, would appear ill-kept, blotchy and scrawly in comparison to them, and furnish infinite trouble to their executors to edit. * * * * * The following will illustrate something of his troubles during the five years he has been cut off from headquarters at Khartoum. Shukri Agha, Commandant of Mswa station, who paid me a visit on the evening of the 19th May, relates that about a year ago 190 rifles of the First Battalion set out from Rejaf Station for Kirri, where the Pasha resided, with the intent to capture and hold him captive among themselves. A letter had been received from Dr. Junker from Cairo, stating that an expedition was to be sent to their relief, had created a confused impression in the minds of the soldiers of the First Battalion that their Governor intended to fly in that direction, leaving them to their fate. Convinced that their safety lay in the presence of their Civil Governor among them, they conceived the idea of arresting him and taking him with them to Rejaf, which, with the more northern stations, was garrisoned by this battalion. "For," said they, "we know only of one road, and that leads down the Nile by Khartoum."[Q] The Pasha was suddenly informed of their intention by the officers of the Second Battalion, and cried out, "Well, if they kill me, I am not afraid of death; let them come--I will await them." This the officers of the Second Battalion at Kirri would not permit, and implored him to make his escape before the malcontents appeared, and argued that "the violent capture and detention of the Governor would put an end to all government, and be the total ruin of all discipline." For some time he refused to move, but finally, yielding to their solicitations, escaped to Mswa. Soon after his departure the detachment of the First Battalion appeared, and, after surrounding the station, cried out a peremptory demand that the Governor should come out and deliver himself to them. They were answered that the Governor had already departed south to Muggi and Wadelai, upon which the mutineers advanced to the station, and seized the Commandant and his subordinate officials, and soundly flogged them with the kurbash, and afterwards took most of them prisoners and carried them to Rejaf, whither they returned. Shukri Agha continued thus:--"You must know that all the First Battalion guard the northern stations, and every soldier of that battalion is opposed to making any retreat, and any suggestion of leaving their watch post at Rejaf, the northernmost station, only makes them indignant. They have been all along waiting to hear of the arrival of a steamer at Lado, and are still firm in the belief that some day the Pasha at Khartoum will send for them. Whatever the Pasha says to the contrary receives utter disbelief. But now that you have arrived by an opposite road, and some of us who were with Linant Bey in 1875 saw you in Uganda, and many more of us have known you by name, it is most likely all of them will be convinced that the Nile is not the only road to Egypt, and that you, having found them, can take them out of the country. They will see your officers, they will see your Soudanese, they will listen respectfully to your message, and gladly obey. That is my own opinion, though God only knows what the sentiments of the First Battalion are by this time, as sufficient time has not elapsed to enable us to hear from them." * * * * * On telling Emin Pasha the next day the story of Shukri Agha, he said:-- "Shukri Agha is a very intelligent and brave officer, promoted to his present rank for distinguished service against Karamalla, one of the Mahdi's generals, when he came here with some thousands to demand our surrender to the authority of Mohamed Achmet." "His story is quite true, except that he has omitted to mention that with the 190 rifles of the First Battalion there were 900 armed negroes. Subsequently I learned that it had been their intention to have taken me to Gondokoro, and detain me there until the garrisons of the southern stations, Wadelai, Tunguru, and Mswa, were collected, and then to have marched along the right bank towards Khartoum. On reaching the neighbourhood of Khartoum, and there learning that the city had really fallen, they were then to disperse, each to his own house, leaving the Cairenes and myself to shift as we might for ourselves."[R] * * * * * The following are some natural history facts he related to me:-- "The forest of Msongwa (see map) is infested with a large tribe of chimpanzees. In summer time, at night, they frequently visit the plantations of Mswa station to steal the fruit. But what is remarkable about this is the fact that they use torches to light the way! Had I not witnessed this extraordinary spectacle personally I should never have credited that any of the Simians understood the art of making fire." "One time these same chimpanzees stole a native drum from the station, and went away pounding merrily on it. They evidently delight in that drum, for I have frequently heard them rattling away at it in the silence of the night." He observed that parrots are never seen along the shores of Lake Albert. Up to lat. 2° N. they are seen in Unyoro, but the Lake people do not seem to understand what is referred to when parrots are mentioned. Our people captured a pair of very young mongoose, which were taken to the Pasha. They were accepted, and ordered to be nursed on milk. He declared that the mongoose, though he becomes very tame and is exceedingly droll, is a nuisance. Instruments are broken, ink scattered, papers and books are smeared and soiled by this inquisitive little beast. To eggs it is especially destructive. If it finds an egg of more than ordinary hard shell, it lifts it with its fore-feet and lets it drop until it is broken. The Pasha has much to say respecting the Dinkas. Proprietors of cattle among the Dinka tribe own from 300 to 1500 head. They rarely kill, their cattle being kept solely for their milk and blood. The latter they mix with sesamum oil, and then eat as a delicacy. At the death of a herd-owner his nearest kinsman invites his friends, and one or two beeves may be slaughtered for the funeral feast; otherwise one scarcely ever hears of a Dinka killing his cattle for meat. Should one of the herd die a natural death, the love of meat demands that it be eaten, which is a proof that conscience does not prohibit satisfying the stomach with meat, but rather excessive penuriousness, cattle being the Dinka's wealth. These Dinkas also pay great reverence to pythons and all kinds of snakes. One of the Soudanese officers killed a snake, and was compelled to pay a fine of four goats. They even domesticate them, keeping them in their houses, but they are allowed every liberty, and to crawl out for prey, after which they return for rest and sleep. They wash the pythons with milk and anoint them with butter. In almost every hut the smaller snakes may be heard rustling in the roofs as they crawl, exploring for rats, mice, etc. On the east side of the Nile he found a tribe exceedingly partial to lions; in fact, one of them would prefer to be killed than be guilty of the death of a lion. These people dug a pit at one time for buffaloes and such game to fall into, but it unfortunately happened that a lion was the first victim. The Soudanese who discovered it were about to kill it, when the chief vetoed the act and implored that the lion should be given to him. The Soudanese were willing enough, and curiously watched what he would do with it. The chief cut a long stout pole and laid it slantwise to the bottom of the pit, up which the lion immediately climbed and bounded away to the jungle to enjoy his liberty. It should be added that the noble beast did not attempt to injure any person near the pit--probably he was too frightened; though as pretty a story might be made out of it as that of Androcles and the lion, did we not live in such a veracious and prosaic age. "Bird studies," the gray-haired lieutenant from Cairo declared, were the Pasha's delight. Indeed, he seems to find as great pleasure in anything relating to birds or animals as in his military and civil duties, though I have not observed any neglect of the last, and the respectful soldierly bearing of his people in his presence marks a discipline well impressed on them. * * * * * From the above gleanings of such conversation as I have noted it will be clear to any one that the Pasha has had a varied life, one that would furnish to quiet home-keeping people much valuable and enchanting reading matter. It may be hoped he will see fit some day to exhibit to them in book form some of his startling life incidents in Asia and Africa, and rehearse in his own pleasing manner some of the most interesting observations he has made during a long residence amid a new and wild nature. ----- [Q] The correspondence these people maintained with Khartoum compel me to doubt whether this is the correct reason. Read Omar Sale's letter to the Khalifa at Khartoum, farther on. [R] Knowing this, the Pasha seems to me to have been very imprudent in adventuring into the presence of these rebels without satisfying himself as to the effect his presence would have on them. CHAPTER XVIII. START FOR THE RELIEF OF THE REAR COLUMN. Escorted by various tribes to Mukangi--Camp at Ukuba village--Arrival at Fort Bodo--Our invalids in Ugarrowwa's care--Lieutenant Stairs' report on his visit to bring up the invalids to Fort Bodo--Night visits by the malicious dwarfs--A general muster of the garrison--I decide to conduct the Relief Force in person--Captain Nelson's ill-health--My little fox-terrier "Randy"--Description of the fort--The Zanzibaris--Estimated time to perform the journey to Yambuya and back--Lieutenant Stairs' suggestion about the steamer _Stanley_--Conversation with Lieutenant Stairs in reference to Major Barttelot and the Rear Column--Letter of instructions to Lieutenant Stairs. On the 1st of June, escorted by a score of Mazamboni's people, we marched westward from Undussuma. In an hour and a half we reached Urumangwa. This district furnished an escort of about a hundred, the Mazambonis withdrawing to their homes. At Unyabongo, after a two hours' march, the people of Urumangwa likewise withdrew, yielding their honourable duties to the people of the new district, and these escorted us for an hour and a half, and saw us safely housed and abundantly fed at Mukangi. For a short time before the latter place we were drawn up in battle array, and a fight was imminent, but the courage and good sense of its chief enabled both parties to avoid a useless rupture. A good example has its imitators as well as bad examples. The chiefs of Wombola and Kametté heard how quickly we had embraced the friendly offers of Mukangi, and when we marched through their districts the next day not one war-cry was heard or a hostile figure appeared. Those of Kametté called out to us to keep on our way, it is true, but it was just, as we had no business in Kametté, and the day was yet young; but on our arrival at the next village, Ukuba, we were tired, and disposed to rest after a five hours' march. But Ukuba, of Bessé district, had already experienced our weapons on the 12th April last, and we were permitted to camp quietly. At sunset we were gratified at seeing several of the natives walking unarmed to camp, and in the morning they came again with presents of a milch goat, some fowls, and enough plantains for all. On the 3rd we pressed on rapidly, and captured the canoes to ferry our party across the Ituri, which, though there had been but little rain of late, we found to be as full as in rainy April. On the next day we captured a woman of Mandé after crossing the river, and released her to tell her people that we were harmless enough if the road was undisturbed. It may extend the area over which peace between us and the natives is established. On the 5th we camped at Baburu, and on the next day at W. Indenduru. On the 7th a seven hours' march brought us to a stream called Miwalé River, from the great number of raphia palms; and the next day we entered Fort Bodo, bringing with us six head of cattle, a flock of sheep and goats, a few loads of native tobacco, four gallons of the Pasha's whisky, and some other little luxuries, to joy the hearts of the garrison. Such an utter silence prevails in the forest that we were mutually ignorant of each other's fate during our sixty-seven days' separation. Until we approached within 400 yards of Fort Bodo we could not divine what had become of Lieutenant Stairs, who, it will be remembered, had been despatched on the 16th February to Ugarrowwa's to conduct such convalescents as could be found there to us to share in such fortune as might happen to us in the open country, whose very view had proved so medicinable to our men. Nor could the garrison guess what luck had happened to us. But when our rifles woke up the sleeping echoes of the forest with their volleys, the sounds had scarcely died away before the rifles of the garrison responded, and as we knew that Fort Bodo still existed, those immured within the limits of the clearing became aware that we had returned from the Nyanza. Lieutenant Stairs was first to show himself and hail us, and close after him Captain Nelson, both in excellent condition, but of rather pasty complexion. Their men then came trooping up, exuberant joy sparkling in their eyes and glowing in their faces, for these children of Nature know not the art of concealing their moods or disguising their emotions. But, alas! for my estimates. Since I have entered the forest region they have always been on the erring side. After computing carefully, as I thought, every mile of the course to be travelled and every obstacle likely to be met by him and his lightly-laden escort, I was certain Lieutenant Stairs would be with us after an absence of thirty-nine days. We stayed forty-seven days, as we were assured it would please him to be present at the successful termination or crowning triumph of our efforts. He arrived after seventy-one days' absence, and by that date we had already communicated with Emin Pasha. I had estimated also that out of the fifty-six invalids left in the care of Ugarrowwa, and boarded at our expense, at least forty convalescents would be ready, fit for marching, but Mr. Stairs found most of them in worse condition than when they parted from us. All the Somalis were dead except one, and the survivor but lived to reach Ipoto. Out of the fifty-six there were but thirty-four remaining. One of these was Juma, with foot amputated; three were absent foraging. Out of the thirty sorry band of living skeletons delivered to him fourteen died on the road, one was left at Ipoto, the remaining fifteen survived to exhibit their nude bodies disfigured by the loathliest colours and effects of chronic disease. The following is the letter describing Mr. Stairs' remarkable journey, which amply accounts for his detention:-- "Fort Bodo, Ibwiri, Central Africa, "_June 6th, 1888_. "Sir,-- "I have the honour to report that in accordance with your orders of the 15th February, 1888, I left this place on the 16th of that month with an escort of twenty couriers and other details, to proceed to Ugarrowwa's station on the Ituri, forward the couriers on their journey to Major Barttelot's column, relieve the invalids left in charge of Ugarrowwa, and bring them on to this station. "Leaving this place, then, on the 16th, we reached Kilimani Hill village on the 17th. Next day I decided to follow a large native track, well worn, about two miles west of Kilimani on our through track to Ipoto; accordingly we started off this up till 11 a.m. After we had gone this length, the track struck too much to the north and east; I therefore looked for other tracks, hoping by following one to at last get on to a large road, and thus work through to the Ihuru. Finding one, we followed it up some two miles or so, and then found that it ended abruptly, and no further trace could be found of it. Returning to our former road we moved on, and that day made four more endeavours to get north-west or somewhere in that direction; late at night we camped, just before dark, having found a blazed track. On the next day, 19th, we followed this track north-west at a fast rate, and about 10 a.m. came on to an old village. The blazes here ended; no further signs of a track could we find leading out of the village, though we hunted thoroughly in every direction. Returning again, and following a large track north-east, we made still another try, but here again the track ended. "After some consideration I returned to our camp of yesterday, and decided on following a road leading towards Mabungu, and then take a side road, said by the natives to lead to the Ihuru, but on following this we found it lead merely up to some Wambutti huts, and here ran out. "After taking my head men's opinion, I then decided on returning and following our old road to Ipoto, there to procure two guides and follow on the track to Uledi's village, and there cross the Ihuru and follow down on north side, &c. My reasons for doing these were: If I should go on like this, looking for tracks, I should lose probably four or five days, and this with my limited time would not be admissible; and, secondly, that to attempt to split our way on a bearing through the bush to the river would take perhaps five days, which would quite counterbalance any advantage a north road might possess. Reaching Kilonga Longa's on the 22nd, we arranged for a party to take us by a road south of Ituri, and on the 24th left. On the 1st of March crossed the Lenda, courses now N.W. and N.N.W. On the 9th reached Farishi, the upper station of Ugarrowwa. On the 14th we reached Ugarrowwa's, on the Ituri, early in the morning. For many days we had been having rains, and owing to these I suffered very much from fevers, and on getting to Ugarrowwa's had to remain in bed for two days. "At U.'s some eight or ten were away foraging, and to get these required three and a half days. "Fifty-six (56) men were left with Ugarrowwa, viz., five Somalis, five Nubians, and forty-six Zanzibaris, on the 18th of September, 1887. Of this total twenty-six had died, including all the Somalis except Dualla. There were still two men out when I left. Baraka W. Moussa I detailed as a courier in place of another (who had been left at Ipoto with bad ulcer), and Juma B. Zaid remained with Ugarrowwa. "The majority of the men were in a weak state when I arrived, and on leaving I refused to take seven of these. Ugarrowwa, however, point blank refused to keep them, so thus I was obliged to bring on men with the certainty of their dying on the march. "Early on the 16th, Abdullah and his couriers were despatched down river. On the 17th took our forty-four rifles from Ugarrowwa, and out of these made him a present of two and forty-two rounds Remington ammunition. "On the 18th closed with U. for $870, being $30 for twenty-nine men; also handed him his bills of exchange and your letter. "On same day left for Ibwiri with following. "From the 19th to 23rd, when I reached Farishi, the rain was constant, making the track heavy and the creeks difficult in crossing. From here on to Ipoto I had bad fevers day after day, and having no one to carry me, had to make marches of five to seven miles per day. The constant wettings and bad roads had made all the men very low-spirited, some doubting even that there was help ahead. Reached Ipoto April 11th, left 13th; and after more trouble from fever reached here on 26th April. All glad to see the Fort. Dualla, the Somali, I was obliged to leave at Ipoto. Tam, a former donkey-boy, deserted on the road. Of the draft of invalids (twenty-six) ten had died. Kibwana also died from chest disease in camp near Mambungu. Out of fifty-six invalids brought fourteen alive to the Fort. "On reaching Fort Bodo I found you had been so long gone that I could not follow up with safety with the few rifles I could command, and so remained at this station and reported myself to Captain Nelson, who was left in charge of the Fort by you. "Floods, rains, fevers, and other illnesses had been the cause of our long delay, and those of us who were in fit condition at all, felt bitterly the disappointment at not being able to reach you. "I have the honour to be, &c., "W. G. Stairs, Lieut. R.E. "To M. H. Stanley, Esq." Of the condition of the garrison at Fort Bodo there was but little to complain; the ulcerous persons, though nothing improved, were not worse; the anæmic victims of the tortures of Manyuema at Ipoto had gained possibly a few ounces in weight; the chronically indolent and malingerers still existed to remind us by their aspects of misery that they were not suitable for the long and desperate journey yet before us. We expected all this. The long journey to Yambuya and back, 1,070 miles, could never be performed by unwilling men. It would be volunteers, fired by interest, stimulated by the knowledge that, this one task ended, forest miseries, famine, damp, rain, mud, gloom, vegetable diet, poisoned arrows, would be things and griefs of the past; and then the joys of the grass land, divine light, brightness and warmth of full day, careering of grass before the refreshing gales, the consolation of knowing that heaven is above, and the earth, yet full of glad life, glowing with beneficence and blandness, ever before them. Oh, gracious God! hasten the day. But can black men, the "brutes," "niggers," "black devils," feel so? We shall see. One crop of Indian corn had been harvested, and was stored snugly in granaries, the fields were being prepared anew for replanting, the banana plantations still furnished unlimited supplies of food, the sweet potatoes grew wild in various places, and there was a fair stock of beans. The malicious dwarfs (the Wambutti) had paid nocturnal visits, and ravaged somewhat the corn fields, and Lieut. Stairs, with a few choice spirits of the garrison, had given chase to the marauders and had routed them, losing one man in the action, but scaring the undersized thieves effectually. The Fort now contained 119 Zanzibaris of the Advance, four of Emin Pasha's soldiers, ninety-eight Madi carriers, and three whites from the Albert Nyanza, besides fifty-seven Zanzibaris and Soudanese, and two officers who formed the garrison--total, 283 souls. It was out of this number we were to form a column of Zanzibari volunteers and Madi carriers to hasten to the relief of Major Barttelot and the Rear Column. After a two days' rest a general muster was made. The necessities of our condition were explained aloud to them; our white brothers were labouring under God alone knew what difficulties--difficulties that appeared greater to them than they did to us, inasmuch as we had gone through them and survived, and could afford to make light of them. For knowledge would teach us to be more prudent of our rations, where to refresh our jaded bodies, and when to hasten through the intervening wildernesses, husbanding our resources. Our meeting would rejoice our poor friends, distressed by our long absence, and our good news would reanimate the most feeble and encourage the despairing. They all knew what treasures of cloth and beads were in charge of the Rear Column. We could not carry all, as indeed there was no need for so much. How could it better be bestowed than on the tireless faithful fellows who had taken their master twice to the Nyanza and back to his long-lost friends! "I pray you, then, come to my side ye that are willing, and ye that prefer to stay in the Fort remain in the ranks." Exulting in their lusty strength, perfect health, and in their acknowledged worth, 107 men cried aloud, "To the Major!" "To the Major!" and sprang to my side, leaving only six, who were really indisposed by illness and growing ulcers, in their places. Those who understand men will recognize some human merits exhibited on this occasion, though others may be as blind in perceiving the finer traits in human nature, as there are many utterly unable to perceive in a picture the touches which betray the masterful hand of a great painter, or in a poem the grace and smoothness, combined with vigour and truth, of the true poet. After selecting out a few of the garrison to replace those unable to undertake the long march before us, there remained only to distribute twenty-five days' rations of Indian corn to each member of the Relief Force, and to advise that in addition each man and boy should prepare as much plantain flour as he could carry. Until the evening of the 15th of June all hands were engaged in reducing the hard corn with pestle and mortar and sieve into flour, or corn rice, called "grits," in peeling the plantains, slicing, drying them on wood grating over a slow fire, and pounding them into fine flour. I, on my part, besides arranging the most needful necessaries required for general uses, had many personal details to attend to, such as repairs of pantaloons, shoes, chair, umbrella, rain-coat, etc. My intention was to conduct the Relief Force in person, unattended by any officers, for many reasons, but mainly because every European implied increase of baggage, which was now required to be of the very smallest limit consistent with the general safety. Besides, Lieut. Stairs, in my opinion, deserved rest after his trip to Ipoto to bring the steel boat to Fort Bodo, and his journey to Ugarrowwa's was to conduct the convalescents. Captain Nelson, ever since the latter part of September, 1887, had been subject to ever-varying complaints--first ulcers, then a general debility which almost threatened his life, then skin eruptions, lumbago, tender feet, and fits of obstinate ague. To a person in such a vitiated condition of blood a journey of the kind about to be undertaken would doubtless prove fatal. Dr. Parke, the only other officer availing, was needed for the sick at the Fort, as in truth the entire garrison consisted mainly of people requiring medical attendance and treatment. With great difficulty we were able to select fourteen men of the garrison to accompany Captain Nelson as far as Ipoto, to convey the dozen loads of baggage still remaining there; but as we were about to start, the Captain was prostrated with another attack of intermittent fever, and a strange swelling of the hand, which made it necessary for Dr. Parke to replace him for this short journey. The faithful little fox-terrier "Randy," which had borne the fatigues of the double march to the Albert Nyanza so well, and had been such a good friend to us in an hour of great need, and had become the pet of every one, though "Randy" would not permit a Zanzibari to approach me unannounced, was committed to the care of Lieutenant Stairs, in the hope of saving him the thousand-mile journey now before us. But the poor dog misjudged my purpose, and resolutely refused his food from the moment I left him, and on the third day after my departure he died of a broken heart. Upon carefully considering the state of the Fort, and the condition of its garrison, and the capacity of its Commandant, Lieut. Stairs, who would be assisted by Captain Nelson and Dr. Parke, I felt the utmost assurance that, with sixty rifles and abundant stores of ammunition, they were invulnerable from any attack of forest natives, however strong their forces might be. A wide and deep ditch ran round two-thirds of it. At each of its angles a commanding platform, closely fenced, had been erected, with approaches and flanks duly under rifle range, and each angle was connected by a continuous stockade, well banked with earth without and supported within by a firm banquette. The main roads leading to the Fort were also fenced, to serve as obstructions. The village inhabited by the garrison lay on the side unprotected by the ditch, and was arranged in V shape, to mask the entrance into the Fort. During daylight no hostile party could approach within 150 yards of the Fort unperceived. At night ten sentries would be sufficient precaution against surprise and fire. This protection was not so much designed against natives alone as against a possible--and by no means unlikely--combination of Manyuema with natives. As much might be urged for the likelihood of such a combination as against it; but it is a totally wrong policy to be idle before an uncertain issue, and of the hundreds of camps or stations established by me in Africa, not one has been selected without considering every near or remote contingency. I was about to leave Fort Bodo without the least anxiety respecting the natives and Manyuema, as also without fear of incompatibility between the officers and Zanzibaris. The officers were now acquainted with the language of their people, as well as with their various habits, tempers, and moods, and the men could equally distinguish those of their officers. Both parties also believed that their stay at Fort Bodo was not likely to be protracted, as the Pasha had promised to visit them within two months, and from a visit of one of his considerate and thoughtful character they might surely infer they would derive pleasure as well as profit. On his return to the Nyanza they could accompany him, abandoning the Fort to its fate. Of the fidelity of the Zanzibaris there was also no room for doubt. However tyrannical or unjust the officers might be--an extreme conjecture--the Zanzibaris could only choose between them on the one hand, and the cannibalism of the Wambutti and the incarnate cruelty of the Manyuema on the other. Would that I could have felt the same confidence and contentment of mind regarding the Rear Column. With the lapse of months had been the increase of my anxiety. As week after week had flown by, my faith in its safety had become weakened and my mind fatigued--with the continual conflict of its hopes and doubts, with the creation of ingenious and fine theories, and their no less subtle demolition, was, perforce, constrained for its own repose and health to forbear thought and take refuge in the firm belief that the Major was still at Yambuya, but abandoned. Our duty was, therefore, to proceed to Yambuya, select the most necessary material equal to our carrying force, and march back to the Nyanza again with what speed we might. On this supposition I framed an estimate of the time to be occupied by the journey, and handed it, with a letter of instructions, to the Commandant of the Fort for his use:-- "Whereas the distance between Fort Bodo to the Nyanza is 125 miles, and has been performed in 288 hours' marching, or 74 days, inclusive of halts. "Whereas we travelled the distance from Yambuya to Ugarrowwa's in 289 hours = 74 days. "Whereas Lieutenant Stairs marched from Ugarrowwa's to Fort Bodo in 26 " --- 100 " "Therefore our journey to Yambuya will probably occupy 100 days, and the same period back. From June 16th, 1888, to January 2nd, 1889, is 200 days. We may reasonably be expected on January 2nd at Fort Bodo, and on the 22nd of the same month at Lake Albert. "Or thus: Starting June 16th, 1888:-- "Fort Bodo to Ugarrowwa's July 5th Thence to Avisibba " 25th " " Mupé Aug. 14th " " Yambuya Sept. 3rd Halt 10 days -- " 13th Return to Mupé Oct. 3rd " " Panga Falls " 23rd " " Fort Bodo Dec. 22nd Halt 5 days -- " 27th Thence to Albert Nyanza Jan. 16th, 1889." * * * * * The last evening of my stay at Fort Bodo, while reciting over the several charges, general and personal, entrusted to him, Lieut. Stairs suggested that perhaps the non-arrival of the steamer _Stanley_ at Yambuya accounted for the utter silence respecting the Rear Column. I then replied in the following terms:-- "That is rather a cruel suggestion, my dear sir; that is the least I fear, for as well as I was able I provided against that accident. You must know that when the _Stanley_ departed from the Yambuya on the 28th of June, I delivered several letters to the captain of the steamer. One was to my good friend Lieut. Liebrichts, Governor of Stanley Pool district, charging him, for old friendship's sake, to despatch the steamer back as soon as possible with our goods and reserve ammunition. "Another was to Mr. Swinburne, my former secretary, who was the soul of fidelity, to the effect that in case the _Stanley_ met with such an accident as to prevent her return to Yambuya, he would be pleased to substitute the steamer _Florida_ for her, as the owners were business men, and full compensation in cash, which I guaranteed, would find as ready an acceptance with them as profits from the ivory trade. "A third letter was to Mr. Antoine Greshoff, the agent at Stanley Pool for the Dutch house at Banana, to the effect that, failing both steamers _Stanley_ and _Florida_, he would find a large ready money profit if he would undertake the transport of the stores of the Expedition from Stanley Pool, and 128 men from Bolobo, to Yambuya. Whatever reasonable freight and fare he would charge, immediate payment was guaranteed by me. "A fourth letter was to our officer in charge at Stanley Pool, Mr. John Rose Troup, to the effect that, failing the steamers _Stanley_, _Florida_, and Mr. Greshoff's, he was to use his utmost powers and means to collect boats and canoes, at whatever cost, ready at hand, and communicate with Messrs. Ward and Bonny at Bolobo. Mr. Ward at Bolobo was also enjoined to do the like in Uyanzi, and man these vessels with the Zanzibaris and natives, and transport by stages the various stores to the intrenched camp at Yambuya. This last would scarcely be needed, as it is extremely improbable that from June 28th, 1887, to June 16th, 1888--nearly twelve months--neither the _Stanley_, the _Florida_, nor Mr. Greshoff's steamer would be available for our service. "Besides, you must remember that both captain and engineer of the _Stanley_ were each promised a reward of £50 sterling if they would arrive within reasonable time. Such amounts to poor men are not trifles, and I feel assured that if they have not been prevented by their superiors from fulfilling their promise, all goods and men arrived safely at Yambuya." "You still think, then, that in some way Major Barttelot is the cause of this delay?" "Yes, he and Tippu-Tib. The latter of course has broken his contract. There is no doubt of that. For if he had joined his 600 carriers, or half that number, with our Zanzibaris, we should have heard of them long ago, either at Ipoto, when you returned there for the boat, or later, when you reached Ugarrowwa's, March 16th this year. The letter of September 18th, 1887, when only eighty-one days absent from Yambuya, and which the Arab promised without delay, would certainly have produced an answer by this if the Major had departed from Yambuya. Those carriers, all choice men, well armed, acquainted with the road, despatched with you to Ugarrowwa's on February 16th, and seen by you safely across the river opposite his station on the 16th of the following month, would surely by this have returned if the Rear Column was only a few weeks' march from Yambuya; therefore I am positive in my mind that Major Barttelot is in some way or other the cause of the delay." "Well, I am sure, however you may think the Major is disloyal, I----." "Disloyal! Why, whoever put you in mind of that word? Such a word has no connection with any man on this Expedition, I hope. Disloyal! Why should any one be disloyal? And disloyal to whom?" "Well, not disloyal, but negligent, or backward in pressing on; I feel sure he has done his best." "No doubt he has done his level best, but as I wrote to him on September 18th, in my letter to be given to him by Ugarrowwa's carriers, it is his 'rashness and inexperience I dread,' not his disloyalty or negligence. I fear the effect of indiscriminate punishments on his people has been such that the vicinity of Stanley Falls and the Arabs has proved an irresistible temptation to desert. If our letters miscarry in any way, our long absence--twelve months nearly to this day, and by the time we reach Yambuya fourteen months at least!--will be a theme for all kinds of reports. When the Zanzibaris from Bolobo reached him he ought to have had over 200 carriers. In twelve months--assuming that the goods and men arrived in due date, and that, finding Tippu-Tib had broken faith, he began the move as he promised--he would be at Panga Falls; but if the severe work has demoralized him, and he has demoralized his carriers, well, then, he is stranded far below Panga Falls--probably at Wasp Rapids, probably at Mupé or at Banalya, or at Gwengweré Rapids--with but 100 despairing carriers and his Soudanese, and he is perforce compelled by the magnitude of his task to halt and wait. I have tried every possible solution, and this is the one on which my opinion becomes fixed." "Do you allow only 100 left? Surely that is very low." "Why? I estimate his loss at what we have lost--about 50 per cent. We have lost slightly less; for from our original force of 389 souls there are 203 still alive:--4 at Nyanza, 60 in the Fort, 119 going with me, and 20 couriers." "Yes; but the Rear Column has not endured a famine such as we have had." "Nor have they enjoyed the abundance that we have fed upon for the last seven months, therefore we are perhaps equal. But it is useless to speculate further upon these points." "The success which was expected from my plans has eluded me. The Pasha never visited the south end of the Lake, as I suggested to him in my letter from Zanzibar. This has cost us four months, and of Barttelot there is not a word. Our men have fallen by scores, and wherever I turn there is no comfort to be derived from the prospect. Evil hangs over this forest as a pall over the dead; it is like a region accursed for crimes; whoever enters within its circle becomes subject to Divine wrath. All we can say to extenuate any error that we have fallen into is, that our motives are pure, and that our purposes are neither mercenary nor selfish. Our atonement shall be a sweet offering, the performance of our duties. Let us bear all that may be put upon us like men bound to the sacrifice, without one thought of the results. Each day has its weight of troubles. Why should we think of the distresses of to-morrow? Let me depart from you with the conviction that in my absence you will not swerve from your duty here, and I need not be anxious for you. If the Pasha and Jephson arrive with carriers, it is better for you, for them, and for me that you go; if they do not come, stay here until my return. Give me a reasonable time, over and above the date--the 22nd of December; then if I return not, consult with your friends, and afterwards with your men, and do what is best and wisest. As for us, we shall march back to the place where Barttelot may be found, even as far as Yambuya, but to no place beyond, though he may have taken everything away with him down the Congo. If he has left Yambuya and wandered far away south-east instead of east, I will follow him up and overtake him, and will cut through the forest in the _most_ direct way to Fort Bodo. You must imagine all this to have taken place if I do not arrive in December, and consider that many other things may have occurred to detain us before you yield to the belief that we have parted for ever." The following is the letter of instructions to Lieut. Stairs:-- "Fort Bodo, Central Africa, "_June 13th, 1888_. "Sir,-- "During my absence with the advance party of the Expedition, now about to return to the assistance of Major Barttelot and Rear Column, I appoint you Commandant of Fort Bodo. I leave with you a garrison, inclusive of sick, numbering nearly sixty rifles. The men mainly are not of the calibre requisite for a garrison in a dangerous country. Still they can all shoot off their rifles, are in good condition, and you have abundance of ammunition. My principal reliance is on the Commandant himself. If the chief is active and wary, our fort is safe, and no combination of natives can oust the garrison from its shelter. I need not tell you that I leave you with confidence. "Respecting the improvements to be made in the Fort, which I have verbally explained to you, I would suggest that as the Fort when completed will be more extensive than at present, you elect about twenty or thirty of the more decent and cleanly of the men to occupy the buildings in the Fort, until such time as they are wanted for other persons, because-- "1st. You are in no danger, then, of being cut off by a daring foe from your garrison. "2nd. One-third of your men will be then within the gates ready at your most sudden call. "3rd. The buildings within the Fort will be kept dry and in a habitable condition by being occupied. "_Corn._ Begin planting corn about July 15th. 1st July you should begin hoeing up, clearing the ground. "_Bananas._ I am exceedingly anxious about the bananas. Twice a week there should be sent a strong patrol round the plantations to scare the natives, and also elephants. For the latter half-a-dozen fires at as many points might suffice. "An officer should be sent out with the patrol, to have a reliable report of what transpires; should he report the bananas as getting scanty, then you should begin rationing your people, always obtaining your supplies by detachments from the most distant points of the plantations. Let the bananas nearest the Fort reach maturity, just as you would your corn. Along the main roads it would also be well to leave plantations alone until they mature. "I leave Captain Nelson as second in command, to take charge when you are incapacitated by illness or accident. "Dr. T. H. Parke, A.M.D., remains here as surgeon to take charge of the sick. "It is, of course, impossible to say when we shall return, as we have not the least idea whereabouts the Rear Column is, but we shall do our best. If the Major is still at Yambuya, you may expect us in December sometime. "I expect Emin Pasha and Mr. Jephson in here about two months hence--say about the middle of August. "Should Mr. Jephson appear with a sufficient force of carriers, then I should recommend the evacuation of the Fort and take the garrison, and accompany Mr. Jephson to the Nyanza, and put yourself and force at the disposition of Emin Pasha until my return. As I come eastward I propose following a northerly and easterly track from the Nepoko and make for the Ituri ferry. "In order that on reaching the Ituri ferry I may know whether you have evacuated the Fort or not, please remember that on the right bank of the river, near the ferry, there are a number of very tall trees, on which you could carve a number of broad arrows, which would indicate that you had passed. You could also carve date of crossing the Ituri on a conspicuous place near the ferry. This would save me a great deal of time and anxiety respecting you. "As our twenty couriers left here 16th February, it will be four months, June 16th, since they left. If Jephson appears in about two months, say, the time will then be about six months since the couriers left Fort Bodo--quite sufficient time to dispel all doubt about them. "I wish you and your associates good health and safe arrival at the Nyanza. On our part we will do our work with what celerity circumstances will permit. "Yours faithfully, "(Signed) Henry M. Stanley, "Commanding E. P. R. Expedition. "To Lieut. W. G Stairs, "Commandant Fort Bodo." CHAPTER XIX. ARRIVAL AT BANALYA: BARTTELOT DEAD. The Relief Force--The difficulties of marching--We reach Ipoto--Kilongo Longa apologises for the behaviour of his Manyuema--The chief returns us some of our rifles--Dr. Parke and fourteen men return to Fort Bodo--Ferrying across the Ituri river--Indications of some of our old camps--We unearth our buried stores--The Manyuema escort--Bridging the Lenda river--The famished Madi--Accidents and deaths among the Zanzibaris and Madi--My little fox-terrier "Randy"--The vast clearing of Ujangwa--Native women guides--We reach Ugarrowwa's abandoned station--Welcome food at Amiri Falls--Navabi Falls--Halt at Avamburi landing-place--Death of a Madi chief--Our buried stores near Basopo unearthed and stolen--Juma and Nassib wander away from the column--The evils of forest marching--Conversation between my tent-boy, Sali, and a Zanzibari--Numerous bats at Mabengu village--We reach Avisibba, and find a young Zanzibari girl--Nejambi Rapids and Panga Falls--The natives of Panga--At Mugwye's we disturb an intended feast--We overtake Ugarrowwa at Wasp Rapids and find our couriers and some deserters in his camp--The head courier relates his tragic story--Amusing letter from Dr. Parke to Major Barttelot--Progress of our canoe flotilla down the river--The Batundu natives--Our progress since leaving the Nyanza--Thoughts about the Rear Column--Desolation along the banks of the river--We reach Banalya--Meeting with Bonny--The Major is dead--Banalya Camp. On the 16th of June, in the early morning we set out from Fort Bodo towards Yambuya in excellent spirits, loudly cheered by the garrison and with the best wishes of the officers. We numbered 113 Zanzibaris, ninety-five Madi carriers, four of Emin Pasha's soldiers, two whites besides Dr. Parke and his little band of fourteen men, whose company we were to have as far as Ipoto. Indékaru was reached on the evening of the 17th, amid a heavy storm of rain. The next day was a halt to collect more plantains. On the 19th we camped at Ndugu-bisha, the day following at Nzalli's. We had by this time been introduced to the difficulties of forest marching. The cries of the column leaders recalled most painfully what an absence of seven months had caused us almost to forget. "Red ants afoot! Look out for a stump, ho! Skewers! A pitfall to right! a burrow to left! Thorns, thorns, 'ware thorns! Those ants; lo! a tripping creeper, Nettles, 'ware nettles! A hole! Slippery beneath, beneath! look out for mud! A root! Red ants! red ants amarch! Look sharp for ants! A log! Skewers below!" And so on from camp to camp. Most of the villages along this route still stood, but all awry and decaying; reeling from rotten uprights, the eave corners on the ground, green mould covering the floors within, hollows filled with slime, and fungi flourishing along the sides, and nitrous excrescences abounding; roofs covered with creepers, nettles, and prolific gourd vines--veritable nests of ague, into which, however, necessity compelled us and our men to seek shelter by reason of excessive fatigue, or imminence of a rainstorm. Mambungu's was reached on the 21st, and on the edge of the Busindi clearing we camped on the following day. After forty-seven hours marching from Fort Bodo we entered the Arab settlement of Ipoto, where it will be remembered our people, maddened by distress of hunger, caused me such serious losses of arms and ammunition. But the change in their condition was so great, and their eyes flashed such lively glances of scorn at their tormentors, that in the afternoon Kilonga-Longa, with his headmen, dreading reprisal, began with many apologies for the behaviour of his Manyuema during his absence to extenuate the heinousness of their crimes, and to offer to atone for them as well as he was able. Nineteen Remingtons were laid before me, out of thirty I knew to be in their possession. Six of these had been left as pledges of payment by myself, two were given by Mr. Stairs acting in my name, one was sold by Captain Nelson, and ten were sold by Zanzibaris, besides eleven not yet recovered; but out of 3000 cartridges and two entire cases these receivers of stolen goods purchased from the starving Zanzibaris, only fifty were returned. Whatever fears the Manyuema may have felt, the fit time for reprisal and retaliation had not arrived, though fifty rifles could have captured the settlement easily, the majority of Kilonga-Longa's people being absent raiding eastward. We had far more important business afoot than the destruction of Ipoto, nor must it be forgotten that our little garrison at Fort Bodo was not so secure but that a few hundreds of men made desperate by their losses might not avenge themselves fully by a siege or midnight assault. We therefore, bending under the necessities of the occasion, accepted the rifles and gifts of goat and rice, and the Zanzibaris were permitted to sell such ivory as they had packed up for 100 pecks of rice, which to them was most welcome provender. The next day the chief returned two more rifles, but all my men being sufficiently armed, he was requested to retain them as pledges, in addition to the six remaining in his hands, for payment of ninety doti of cloth promised to him and his people for the grudging and scant sustenance given to Captain Nelson and Dr. Parke while they were compulsory guests of this ill-natured community. In the afternoon Dr. Parke and his little band of fourteen men commenced their return journey to Fort Bodo, conveying thirteen loads, and bearing the very last instructions I could give. On the 25th June we set out from Ipoto accompanied by a guide and our escort of fifteen Manyuema, who were ostentatiously detailed for this duty as far as the next Arab settlement, one of Ugarrowwa's outlying stations. We arrived at the Ituri River, and a canoe capable of carrying nine men was delivered over to us at 3 P.M. to serve as the means of ferriage. As one trip to the left bank and back occupied on an average twenty-three minutes, night fell before a half of our force was across. The work of ferrying was resumed early next morning, and continued until two o'clock, when every soul had crossed excepting the Manyuema escort whose fears that sudden vengeance would be inflicted on them, caused them to decline the venture they had been ordered to undertake. We were now fairly in the wide uninhabited wilderness through which last October the Expedition struggled, gaunt victims of a merciless famine. No consideration would have tempted us to a revisit of these dreadful shades, but that we fostered a lively hope that we should soon meet our returning couriers, who we expected would gratify us with news from the Major's column. Imbued with the fond belief that as they had not arrived at Ipoto we should meet them on this road--none other being known to them--we marched briskly from the landing-place, and in two and three-quarter hours reached the camp whence we had crossed over to the north bank on the 14th of October last. Indications of our stay here were yet fresh--the charcoal broad arrows drawn on the barked tree stems, the lead pencil writing to Khamis Parry still plainly legible. At 1.15 P.M. of the 28th we arrived at Nelson's camp, opposite the confluence of the Ihuru with the Ituri, a place which last October witnessed such death and agony, where poor Nelson sat so many hours, so many wretched days with ulcered feet, waiting anxiously the arrival of news from us, and where he was found by his friend Mounteney Jephson, haggard, and reduced by his feelings of forlornness and despair into a state of abject helplessness, in the midst of his dying and dead companions. We had performed the march in twenty hours, or in four days inclusive of our detention while ferrying with one small craft. Last October, despite our strenuous endeavours, the same distance had occupied us thirty-nine hours' marching, or thirteen days inclusive of the halt! The condition of the stomach made all this great difference. We found our _cache_ untouched, though we had strong doubts, and unearthed our buried stores which Jephson's relief party was unable to carry away. The ammunition, made by Kynoch of Birmingham, after eight months' burial in the sand, subject to tropic damp and an eternal rain, was not so much injured as we expected, a full eighty per cent of it being still sound, and the well-waxed brass cases and copper caps yet exhibited their native brightness and gloss. Distributing 1,000 rounds to the men for the refilling of their pouches, selecting such other articles as were useful, we made up eight loads, and after burying the rest as superfluous, we hurried away from the hateful spot, camping far inland. Arriving at camp, we discovered four Madi carriers to have deserted with the kits of their Zanzibari mates. Had they known, what we could never forget, of the evil repute of this wilderness, they probably would have chosen the brawling river for their graves than the slow torture of famine in the ruthless forest. At sunset we were surprised to see the Manyuema escort reach our camp. They had fled to Kilonga Longa's, and that gentleman had sternly ordered them to follow us again, and not to return without a note reporting they had performed the duty on which they had been sent. On the 29th we left the river route and steered a south-westerly course through the pathless forest, in order to strike the road taken by Mr. Stairs' party on their return from Ugarrowwa's. As the headman Rashid bin Omar was of our party, we presumed--as he asserted his faith in himself--that he would recognize the path if it were shown to him, after which of course there would be no difficulty. The whole of the 29th and 30th were occupied in this south-westerly course undeviating. We meanwhile crossed several native paths, but as Rashid failed to recognize any of them, we continued on our way. On the 1st July, early in the morning's march, we entered the basin of the Lenda River, and then, as Rashid expressed himself of the opinion that we must have passed the path, we took a direct westerly course, steering straight on through the forest by compass. At noon of the 2nd we struck the Lenda River which generally flowed, as we observed during the afternoon march of the 2nd and until noon of the 3rd, N.N.W. Discovering a narrow chasm thirty yards wide through which the Lenda rushed furiously, we conceived it would be to our advantage to throw a bridge across this river, and trust to fortune showing us the path to Ugarrowwa's station on the other bank, rather than continue along the Lenda River on the right bank, lest we might be forced to wander for days without finding the means of crossing. Accordingly we selected three of the tallest trees, 115, 110, and 108 feet respectively, which we managed to launch across the chasm, and these resting on stout forked uprights, with railings to steady the laden men, made a commodious and safe bridge. Early on the morning of the 5th the bridge was completed, and by ten o'clock every man was safe across. The Madi carriers having purposely scattered their corn provision along the road to lighten their loads, began now to pay the penalty of their wastefulness. Though the camp-crier cried out daily the number of days yet remaining for which the provisions must last, the ignorant savages were, however, too dense-headed to profit by the warning; consequently we had a dozen feeble wretches already faltering in their gait. We were already short of seven--four of whom had deserted. We continued on the left bank our westerly course, and meantime crossed several native paths inclining S.E. and N.W., but we found none that can be made available for our necessity. On the 6th we stumbled across a clearing garnished with a small but thriving plantation of plantains. The famished Madis rushed on this supply like hungry wolves on their prey, and soon devoured the whole, but three of them trod on cunningly-hidden sharp-pointed skewers set in the ground. Through a pelting rain we travelled on the 7th, and, wet and miserable, camped in the bosom of untraversed woods. One hour's march next day brought us to the small village of Balia, and five hours later halted for the night at Bandeya. This day had been replete with miseries and singular accidents. A shower of cold rain fell on us after leaving Balia, and three of the naked Madis fell dead within a few paces of each other. At the first indications of this shower I had ordered a halt, and spread out about 150 square feet of tenting, inviting everyone to huddle under it. The shower over, we rolled up the canvas and resumed the march, but we were still subject to the heavy cold dripping of the foliage. The Zanzibaris, more accustomed to it and in better condition of body, were not much inconvenienced; but three Madis, depressed in mind, depleted in body, fell dead as suddenly as though shot. A Lado soldier of Emin Pasha's and a Zanzibari were skewered in the feet, and so crippled by these painful wounds that we were obliged to carry them. Near Bandeya another Madi native succumbed to illness caused by insufficient food, and a Zanzibari was shot by a bold and crafty dwarf with an arrow which penetrated between the ribs, but not to a fatal depth. Arriving at the village, my cook Hassan, in an unfortunate moment, while drawing his Winchester rifle towards him, caused it to explode, tearing a large portion of the muscles of the left arm; and near midnight a youth named Amari, while blowing up to a brighter flame a watch-fire, was suddenly wounded in the head by a bullet from a Remington cartridge that some one had carelessly dropped near the embers. The next day, guided by some women who said they knew the way to Ugarrowwa's, there was a most tedious march through an immense clearing lately abandoned by the natives. None that I can remember was so full of vexations. It was a strained position at every stride we took--now treading on a slippery trunk which bridged a chasm bristling with dangers from a number of dead branches, their sharp points erected upwards threatening impalement to the unfortunate man who fell from such a height on them; then balancing oneself on a log thrown across a rushing stream; anon plunged into a brake suffocatingly close from the dense masses of myriads of creepers growing above and around; soon stumbling through a deep green slough, its depth hidden by floating vegetable parasites, then over a fearful array of logs, the relics of the old forest, and every step the difficulties repeated until near noon we had traversed with streaming bodies the vast clearing of Ujangwa. On the confines of the virgin forest we formed camp, despatched the people to gather plantains and to prepare them as provisions for the few days yet remaining of the wilderness. By solar observations I discovered we were in N. lat. 1° 0' 16". On the 10th I suspected we were taking a course which, if continued, would lead us not far from our camp of the 8th, but the Zanzibaris were so wedded to the belief that the natives knew their own country best, that in a fit of spleen I permitted them to rest in that opinion. About ten o'clock of the 11th we came upon the clearing and a little village we had left on the morning of the 8th. Thus we had made a complete circle, and in revenge for this the people demanded that the women should be slaughtered. Poor things, they had only acted according to their nature! It is we who were in error in supposing that the natives would show us a way leading them further and further from their own country. Were the faith continued in them they would have persisted in guiding us round about their clearings until they had dropped dead on their native earth. The women were therefore sent away home, and with compass in hand we steered a west by north course to strike the main road. We continued this course the whole of the 11th, and early next day succeeded in finding the path, which ran north by east. At nine o'clock of the 13th July we reached our old camp on the Ituri River, opposite Ugarrowwa's station, but the place, as we looked across the river, we found to be abandoned. Therefore no news could be obtained of our long absent carriers, or of the Major and his people. We resumed our march, our course being along the Ituri River, every mile, every creek, every crossing-place and every camp, well known to us. The next day, rations all exhausted, Madis perishing by twos and threes daily, we reached Amiri Falls. No sooner was camp pitched than there was a rush for food. It was not to be obtained in the immediate vicinity, for Ugarrowwa's multitude of 600 people had preceded us and devoured every edible, and that the supply had been insufficient for them was evident by the number of skeletons in his old camp. Distance would not deter our fellows from the Nyanza; they hastened onward, pursuing a track leading southward, until finally after some hours they reached a hill the base of which was one continuous thriving plantation of plantains. At a late hour in the night they brought the good news to camp, gratified our famished eyes with a view of the prodigious fruit, which caused us all to dream ecstatically on fruity banquets of which the mellow and flavoury plantain was the most conspicuous. Of course a halt at such a critical period within reach of such abundance was imperative, and at an early hour the camp was emptied of nearly every able hand, excepting sentries, to procure food. In the afternoon the well-furnished foragers returned, often in couples, with an immense bunch between them, like to the old engraving of Caleb and Joshua bearing the grapes of Eshcol. The more provident, however, bore larger quantities of the fruit, peeled and sliced, ready for drying, thus avoiding the superfluous stalk and plantain skin. During the absence of the foragers the weaker of the messes had erected the wooden grates and collected the fuel for the drying overnight. The fruit when thus dry could be converted into cakes, or palatable plantain porridge, or a morning's draught of plantain gruel. Many of the finest specimens were reserved to ripen to make a sweet pudding, or a sweet brew, or for sauce for the porridge. On the 16th July we resumed our march along the river, following our old road as closely as possible, and in seven hours reached the Little Rapids above Navabi Falls. On the next day passed Navabi Falls, and took a look at the place where we submerged our canoes, to discover that they had been taken away. Within four hours we arrived at our old camp at Avamburi landing-place. The path was now considerably improved, for nearly a thousand pairs of feet had trodden it since our two score of bill-hooks had first carved a passage through the bush. Many a skeleton lay along the road, and our moribund Madis were destined to add a few more to the number, for day by day they dropped down never to rise again. Nothing that we could say would prevail to induce them to provide provision for the morrow. Ten plantains they thought an inexhaustible stock, but the evening would find them hungering for more. The only other means left to save their lives was to halt as often as possible, to enable them to eat their fill. Accordingly we halted two days at Avamburi landing-place, to rest and comfort the drooping and dying Madis. On the 20th we marched for seven and a half hours, and camped a few miles above Bafaido Cataract, losing one Zanzibari and four Madis _en route_. One of the latter was a chief among them, who suffered from a skewer wound in the foot. As we were starting he stated his intention to die on the spot, called his countrymen together, distributed his bracelets, anklets, shiny iron collars and ear-rings among them, and then lay down with a placid countenance, wherein not the slightest emotion was discernible. All this was very admirable, but it would have been still more admirable to have bravely struggled, than to have so doggedly died. Three hours later we discovered a canoe into which we were enabled to place a few weaklings. Before reaching camp we had found three canoes, into which we embarked nearly all the ailing ones. It would have been cruel to have halted and sent back people for the Madi chief; besides there were many chances against our finding him alive, for as soon as the rear-guard left the camp it was generally visited by hosts of natives, who would feel no remorse for ending the feeble life of the sick man lagging behind the column. The next day was a short march of two hours. Ugarrowwa had also halted at Bafaido Cataract, and for several days, judging from the elaborate arrangements of his large camp, which from a distance appeared like a large town, occupying the extremity of the river-head terminated by the cataract. Before arriving at Hippo Broads we were in possession of four canoes. On the next day, lunching at the cataract camp, where we buried our shovels and some articles which our weakening force could not carry, we examined the caché, and discovered that the deserters had unearthed the ten tusks of ivory, and the natives had possessed themselves of all the remaining articles. Late in the afternoon we camped at Basopo Cataract. Between the two cataracts the Zanzibaris discovered several canoes hidden away in the creeks emptying into the Ituri, and joyfully, but most recklessly, embarked in them, and notwithstanding their knowledge of the dangerous channels of the Basopo Cataract, continued on their course down the furious stream, which caused us the loss of a Zanzibari and a boy belonging to the soldiers of Emin Pasha. In the capsized canoe were also two of the Pasha's soldiers, both of whom lost their rifles and their kit, and barely escaped with their lives. Two Zanzibaris, called Juma and Nassib, wandered away from the column and were missing this day, and we were therefore obliged to halt on the 24th to send out a party to hunt for them. In the afternoon the party returned unsuccessful, but an hour later we were startled to hear a bullet hissing over our heads. A search was made, and the culprit was found to be Nassib, who, accompanied by his friend Juma, was returning to camp, and who informed us that he had seen one of our people in the bush just outside the camp, and had fired at him, supposing him to be a prowling native. He still more astonished us when he related that the cause of his parting from the column was that he and Juma had seen some fine plantains in a plantation, and had sat down to peel and dry a supply for the road. This had consumed some eighteen hours at least, and they say that when they sought the road they could not find the track of 200 men. It is difficult to decide which compelled most admiration, the folly of these two third-rate men sitting calmly down in the midst of a plantation belonging to ferocious cannibals, who generally closed the rear of the columns to avenge themselves on the stragglers, or the alarm which in this solitary instance possessed the natives. On the 25th we camped above the Little Rapids of Bavikai, and on the next day entered the populous district of Avé-jeli, opposite the mouth of the Nepoko affluent, taking our quarters in the village where Dr. Parke so successfully amputated the foot of an unfortunate Zanzibari thirteen months before. I was never so sensible of the evils of forest marching as on this day. My own condition of body was so reduced, owing to the mean and miserable diet of vegetables on which I was forced to subsist, that I was more than usually sympathetic. At this time there were about thirty naked Madis in the last stages of life; their former ebon black was changed to an ashy grey hue, and all their bones stood out so fearfully prominent as to create a feeling of wonder how such skeletons were animated with the power of locomotion. Almost every individual among them was the victim of some hideous disease, and tumours, scorched backs, foetid ulcers, were common; while others were afflicted with chronic dysentery and a wretched debility caused by insufficient food. A mere glance at them, with the mal-odour generated by ailments, caused me to gasp from a spasm of stomach sickness. With all this, the ground was rank with vegetable corruption, the atmosphere heated, stifling, dark and pregnant with the seeds of decay of myriads of insects, leaves, plants, twigs and branches. At every pace my head, neck, arms or clothes was caught by a tough creeper, calamus thorn, coarse briar, or a giant thistle-like plant, scratching and rending whatever portion they hooked on. Insects also of numberless species lent their aid to increase my misery, especially the polished black ant, which affects the trumpet tree. As we marched under the leaves these ants contrived to drop on the person, and their bite was more vexatious than a wasp's or red ant's; the part bitten soon swelled largely, and became white and blistery. I need not name the other species, black, yellow and red, which crossed the path in armies or clung to almost every plant and fed on every tree. These offensive sights and odours we met day after day, and each step taken was fraught with its own particular evil and annoyance, but with my present fading strength and drooping spirits, they had become almost unbearable. My mind suffered under a constant strain of anxiety respecting the fate of my twenty choice men which were despatched as couriers to the rear column under Major Barttelot, as well as of the rear column itself. I had had no meat of any kind, of bird or beast, for nearly a month, subsisting entirely on bananas or plantains, which, however varied in their treatment by the cook, failed to satisfy the jaded stomach. My muscles had become thin and flabby, and were mere cords and sinews, every limb was in a tremor while travelling, and the vitals seemed to groan in anguish for a small morsel of meat. At camp I overheard a conversation carried on between my tent-boy Sali and another Zanzibari. The boy was saying that he believed the "Master" would not last long, how he had observed that his powers were declining fast. "Please God," said the other, "we shall find goats or fowls in a few days. It is meat he needs, and he shall get it if Ugarrowwa has not cleared out the country." "Ah," said Sali, "if the Zanzibaris were men instead of being brutes, they would surely share with the master what meat they get while foraging. Do they not use his guns and cartridges, and are they not paid wages for using them. I can't understand why they should not share what they obtain with the master's own rifles." "There are few here so wicked as not to do it--if they get anything worth sharing," replied the other. "But I know better," said Sali. "Some of the Zanzibaris find a fowl or a goat almost every day, but I do not see any of them bringing anything to the master." At this juncture I called out to Sali, and enjoined him to tell me all he knew. By dint of questioning, the fact was elicited that there was some truth in what he had stated. Two of the Zanzibari chiefs, Murabo, of Bumbiré fame, and Wadi Mabruki, had discovered a goat and three fowls on the 25th, and had secretly eaten them. This was one of the first instances of signal ingratitude discovered in these two men. From this day the effect of the disclosure resulted in obtaining a share in the spoils. Three fowls were delivered to me before evening, and a few days later I had regained normal strength. This happy result in my own case proved what the needs of the poor naked Madis were. A heavy stock of provisions of dried plantains was prepared at Avé-jeli, and our increasing flotilla of canoes enabled us to embark all our Madis, baggage, and half of the Zanzibari force. We formed our next day's camp near Avugadu Rapids, and on the 27th passed the canoes over the rapids, and halted for the night a few miles below. We lunched at our old camp, where I remained so many days while waiting and searching for the lost Expedition in August, '87, on the 30th July, and took up our night's quarters at Mabengu village. At this village we observed about sunset an immense number of large bats, called "popo" in Swahili, sailing over our heads to their night roosts across the river. A thin riband of sky was alone visible above where I stood, and I counted 680 of the number that flew within view. As the army of bats must have spread over several miles of the forest, a rough approximation of the many thousands that were flying may be made. On the last day of July we reached Avisibba, famous for its resistance to our advance column last year, and for the fatal effects of the poisoned arrows employed in the conflict. In one of the huts we found the top of one of our tent-poles, wrapped carefully in leaves, with a small piece of cartridge paper, a bit of green velvet from our surgical instrument case, and the brass case of a Remington cartridge. The curious package was hung up to one of the rafters, and probably consecrated to some fetish. In another hut we discovered a collar of iron rings, and ten unfired cartridge cases. These last must have belonged to one of our unfortunate deserters, whose flesh must have simmered in a pot over a fire and formed a family repast. An old jacket was also picked up later, which deepened the probability. Shortly after landing at the village a little naked girl about eight years old walked composedly into view and surprised us all by addressing us in the Zanzibari language. She cried out, "It is true, then? I heard a gunshot, and I said to myself while in my hiding-place, these must be my own people, and I will go and see them, for the Pagans have no guns." She gave her name as "Hatuna-mgini" (we have no other), and related that she and five full-grown women were abandoned by Ugarrowwa at that place because they were very sick, and that soon after Ugarrowwa had departed with his large flotilla of canoes the natives rushed in and killed the five women, but that she had run away and hidden herself, where she had remained ever since, living on raw wild fruit, but in the night she had succeeded in gathering bananas, which, when ripe, she could eat uncooked, since no fire was possible. Ugarrowwa had had a skirmish with the Avisibbas, in which he had killed a great number. He had stayed here five days preparing food, and had departed many days--"more than ten days." A march of four and a half hours to Engweddé, and another of seven and a half hours, took us to a camp opposite an island occupied by the Bapaiya fishermen, a few miles above the Nejambi Rapids. Rifles, accoutrements, were disembarked, and the canoemen were ordered to pass their canoes down the left branch. While the land party was engaged in the portage, the majority of the canoemen preferred to take the right branch, in which act of disobediance the Zanzibari chief and five Madis lost their lives, one canoe was lost, and two others capsized, but afterwards recovered. A Zanzibari named Salim was so bruised and battered by the flood sweeping him against the rocks that he was unable to walk for nearly a month afterwards. About 3 P.M. we resumed our journey, and arrived about 5 P.M. at Panga Falls. Leaving a detachment of them to guard the canoes, we formed camp below the Falls. The land party succeeded in finding a small supply of Indian corn, which, converted into meal, made me a porridge supper. A downpour of rain, commencing at midnight and continuing until 1 P.M. of the 5th of August, much impeded our work, but by night we had our flotilla of nineteen canoes safe below the Falls, in front of our camp. The natives of Panga had betaken themselves into an island near the right bank, with all their goats, fowls, and other property, but they had left several nets and wires within reach in the various branches on our side, whence we obtained some fine large fish. The natives were practically safe, inasmuch as no body of men with other business in view would incur the trouble of molesting them. They, however, manifested most plausibly a desire to make terms of amity with us by pouring water on their heads and sprinkling their bodies with it, and some of our men good-naturedly approached their island and responded reciprocally. The daring natives pushed across the cataract, and one of them contrived to draw himself unperceived near one of our men, and stabbed him in the back. A halt was ordered the next day, and a band of forty men proceeded inland to forage, returning towards night, each with a load of eatables; but one of their number, a Madi, received a severe wound in the back with an arrow. Our old camp opposite the confluence of the Ngula River and the Ituri was reached on the 7th in two and a half hours by the canoes, but the land party occupied eight hours in marching the distance, which I estimated at eleven miles. At Mambanga's on the north bank, which we reached the next day, we found a good supply of food, but a Zanzibari named Jaliffi was seriously wounded with a wooden arrow in the chest. A portion an inch and a half long was embedded in the wounded part, which incapacitated him from duty for over two months. On the point of the arrow being ejected, the wound soon closed. At Mugwye's--or My-yui--the next place, a great change had occurred. All the villages were obliterated by fire, and the fine plantain plantations cut down, and at Mugwye's own village there stood an immense camp. Believing that Ugarrowwa was present, we fired a signal shot, but no answer being returned, we proceeded to our old camp on the left bank, where on one of the trees Lieutenant Stairs had carved the date "July 31st" (1887) for the benefit of the Major. Arriving at our old camp, we were surprised to see the body of a woman belonging to Ugarrowwa's, freshly killed and washed, laid out on the bank close to the river, and near by three bunches of plantains, two cooking-pots, and a canoe capable of carrying five people. It was evident to us that a party of natives hearing the signal shot, had decamped, and had been obliged to abandon their intended feast. A party of men was sent across the river to reconnoitre, and in a short time they came back reporting that Ugarrowwa must have departed that same morning down the river. This was very regrettable to me, as I burned to ascertain what he had heard of the news from down river, and I also wished to beg of him not to ravage the country for the benefit of succeeding caravans, which would suffer serious loss from the wholesale havoc and devastation attending his journey. On the 10th of August I delivered over to the care of the senior Zanzibar chief, Rashid, thirty-five of the ablest of our men, with a charge to pursue our old track along the river as I intended to descend the river with our canoe flotilla without a halt as far as Wasp Rapids, where no doubt we should overtake Ugarrowwa, and where we should stay together until he should reach us. At 6.40 A.M. we set out, and, paddling vigorously, were in the neighbourhood of Wasp Rapids at 11 A.M. Long before we heard the roar of the rushing river over the rocky reefs which obstruct its course there, we descried an immense camp on the right bank, and in a short time the forms of men in white dresses moving about the bush. When we had approached within rifle range we fired some signal shots and hoisted our flag, which was no sooner seen than the deep boom of heavily-loaded muskets announced that we were recognized. Soon several large canoes pushed from the right bank towards us, as we were descending along the left bank, and hailed us in the Swahili language. After the usual exchange of compliments we then asked the news, and to our great joy, not unmixed with grief, we learned that our couriers, who had now been absent from us nearly six months, were in Ugarrowwa's camp. The couriers had left Lieutenant Stairs at Ugarrowwa's station on the 16th of March, and had reached Wasp Rapids in seventeen days, or on the 1st of April, where they had been driven back with a loss of four of their number. Perceiving that they were unable to pierce through the hostile crowds, they had travelled back to Ugarrowwa's station, which they reached on the 26th of April, and where they placed themselves in Ugarrowwa's hands. A month later, Ugarrowwa, having collected his people from the outlying stations, commenced his descent of the Ituri River, our couriers accompanying him, reaching Wasp Rapids on the 9th of August, having been seventy-six days _en route_. That same period we had occupied in travelling from the Albert Nyanza, the 10th of August being the twenty-ninth day since we had left Ugarrowwa's old station. After forming our camp on the left bank in the deserted village of Bandeyah, opposite the camp of Ugarrowwa's, in the deserted village of Bandekiya, the surviving couriers, accompanied by Ugarrowwa and his head men, visited us. Amid a deep silence the head man related his tragic story: "Master, when you called for volunteers to bear your letter to the Major, there was not a man of us but intended to do his very best, knowing that we were all to receive a high reward and great honour if we succeeded. We have done our best, and we have failed. We have, therefore, lost both reward and honour. It is the men who have gone with you to the Nyanza and found the Pasha, and can boast of having seen him face to face, who deserve best at your hands. But if we have not succeeded in finding the Major and gladdening his heart with the good news we had to tell, God he knows it has not been through any fault of our own, but rather because it is His will that we should not do so. We have lost four of our number, and I am the only one who cannot show a wound received during the journey. We have two, who though alive, seem to be incurable from the poison in their blood. Some of our men have as many as five arrow wounds to show you. As far as Avisibba we came down the river smoothly enough, but then the sharp work soon commenced. At Engweddé two were wounded. At Panga Falls three men were most seriously hurt by arrows. Between Panga Falls and here was a continued fight day after day, night after night; the natives seemed to know long before we reached them our full strength, and set on us either in full daylight or in the darkness, as though resolved to exterminate us. Why they should show so much courage with us when they had shown themselves so cowardly when we went up with you, I cannot say, unless our deserters, coming down river by half-dozens, have enabled the Pagans to taste the flavour of Zanzibari blood, and they having succeeded so well with them, imagined they could succeed with us. However, when we reached this village wherein you are now encamped, there were only eleven of us fit for anything; all the rest were sore from their wounds and one was helpless; and soon after our coming the fight began in real earnest. Those surviving couriers, accompanied by Ugarrowwa and his from that great village opposite us joined with the natives of Bandeya; the river seemed to swarm with canoes, and the bush around this village was alive with natives. After an hour's trial, during which time many of them must have been killed, for they were so crowded, especially on the river, we were left in peace. We availed ourselves in fortifying, as well as we could, the few huts we had selected for our quarters during the night. "When night fell we placed sentries as usual, as you and Lieut. Stairs and Ugarrowwa, all of you, enjoined on us; but, wearied with work and harassed by care, our sentries must have slept, for the first thing we knew was that the natives had pulled down our zeriba and entered into the camp, and a wild cry from a man who received a fatal thrust with a spear woke us up to find them amongst us. We each grasped our rifles and fired at the nearest man, and six of them fell dead at our feet. This for a moment paralysed them; but we heard a chief's voice say, 'These men have run away from Bula Matari. Not one of them must live.' Then from the river and the bush they came on in dense crowds, which the flashes of our rifles' fire lit up, and their great numbers seemed for a short time to frighten the best of us. Lakkin, however, who is never so funny as when in trouble, shouted out, 'These fellows have come for meat--give it them, but let it be of their own people,' and wounded men and all took their rifles and took aim as though at a target. How many of them fell I cannot say; but when our cartridges were beginning to run low they ran away, and we were left to count the dead around us. Two of our men never answered to their names, a third called Jumah, the son of Nassib, called out to me, and when I went to him I found him bleeding to death. He had just strength enough to charge me to give the journey up. 'Go back,' said he. 'I give you my last words. Go back. You cannot reach the Major; therefore whatever you do, go back to Ugarrowwa's.' Having said this, he gave up his last breath, and rolled over, dead. "In the morning we buried our own people, and around our zeriba there were nine natives dead, while within there were six. We beheaded the bodies, and after collecting their heads in a heap, held council together as to the best course to follow. There were seventeen of us alive, but there were now only four of us untouched by a wound. Jumah's last words rung in our ears like a warning also, and we decided to return to Ugarrowwa's. It was easier said than done. I will not weary you with details--we met trouble after trouble. Those who were wounded before were again wounded with arrows; those who were unwounded did not escape--not one excepting myself, who am by God's mercy still whole. A canoe was capsized and we lost five rifles. Ismailia was shot dead at Panga Falls. But why need we say over again what I have already said? We reached Ugarrowwa's after an absence of forty-three days. There were only sixteen of us alive, and fifteen of us were wounded. Let the scars of those wounds tell the rest of the story. We are all in God's hands and in yours. Do with us as you see fit. I have ended my words." Among those who heard this dreadful story of trials for the first time there was scarcely a dry eye. Down many faces the tears ran copiously, and deep sighs and ejaculations of pity gushed from the sympathetic hearts. When the speaker had finished, before my verdict was given, there was a rush towards him, and hands stretched out to grasp his own, while they cried out with weeping eyes, "Thank God! thank God! You have done bravely; yes, you have shown real worth, and the mettle of men." It was thus we welcomed our long-lost couriers, whose fate had been ever in our minds since our departure from Fort Bodo. They had been singularly unsuccessful in the object of their mission, but somehow they could not have been more honoured by us had they returned with letters from the Major. The story of their efforts and their sufferings was well told, and was rendered more effective and thrilling by the sight of the many wounds each member of the gallant band had received. Through the kindness of Ugarrowwa, whose sympathies had been won by the same sad but brave story, their wounds had soon healed, with the exception of two, who though now only greatly scarred were constantly ailing and weak. I may state here that one finally recovered in the course of two months his usual strength, the other in the same time faded away and died. In Ugarrowwa's camp were also discovered three famous deserters, and two of our convalescents who were absent foraging during Lieut. Stairs' visit. One of these deserters had marched away with a box of ammunition, another had stolen a box containing some of Emin Pasha's boots and a few pairs of my own. They had ventured into a small canoe which naturally was capsized, and they had experienced some remarkable hair-breadth escapes before they arrived at Ugarrowwa's. They had been delivered as prisoners to Lieut. Stairs, but a few days later, they again escaped to Ugarrowwa's, who was again induced to deliver them up to me. These two afterwards behaved exceedingly well, but the third, while a victim to small-pox, some few weeks later, escaped from the care of his friends and leaped into the Nejambi Rapids, where he was drowned. Ugarrowwa, being out of powder, was more than usually kind. A notable present of four goats, four sacks of rice, and three large canoes was made to me. The goats and rice, as may be imagined, were very welcome to us, nor were the canoes a despicable gift, as I could now treble the rate of our descent down the river; for in addition to our own canoes the entire Expedition of 130 fighting men, boys, followers, and Madi, carriers, besides the baggage could be embarked. No news had been obtained of our Rear Column by either the couriers or Ugarrowwa. The letter to the Major, which I had delivered to Ugarrowwa for despatch by his couriers last September, was now returned to me with the letters from my own couriers. He had sent forty-five men down the river, but at Manginni, about half-way between Wasp Rapids and My-yui, they had been obliged to return. Thus both efforts to communicate with Major Barttelot had been unsuccessful, and could not but deepen the impression that something exceedingly awry had occurred with the Rear Column. Among the letters delivered to me by Ugarrowwa was one open. It is descriptive and amusing, and characteristic of our Doctor:-- "Fort Bodo, "_15th February, 1888_. "My dear old Barttelot, "I hope you are 'going strong' and Jameson 'pulling double.' None of us here have any idea where you are. Some of us officers and men say you are on the way up river, others say you are still at Yambuya, unable to move with a large number of loads, and amongst the men there is an idea that your Zanzibaris may have gone over to Tippu-Tib. Stanley reached the Lake 14th December, 1887, but could not communicate with Emin Pasha. As he had not got his boat, he then came back from the Lake into the bush, and made this fort to store his baggage, while he again goes on to the Lake with Jephson and boat. Stairs goes to Ugarrowwa's to-morrow with twenty men, who are to go on to you and who bring this letter. Stairs returns here with about forty or fifty men who were left at Ugarrowwa's, and then goes on after Stanley, as the place is only 80 or 100 miles from the Lake. I am to stay at this fort with forty or fifty men. Nelson, who has been ailing for months, therefore also remains here. We had an awful time coming here. I often said I was starved at school, but it was stuffing compared with what we have gone through. I am glad to say all the white men are very fit, but the mortality amongst the men was enormous, something like 50 per cent. Up to Ugarrowwa's there is plenty of food, but little or none along the river this side of Ugarrowwa's. Stanley, I know, is writing you all about the starvation and the road. To-day, Stanley fell in all the men, and asked them all if they wanted to go to the Lake or go back for you. Most of the men at first wanted to go back, but afterwards the majority were for the Lake; both Stairs, Jephson, and myself were for the Lake, so as to decide if Emin Pasha was alive or not, so as not to bring your column up all this way and then go back to Muta Nzigé. All the men are as fat as butter, some of them, however, who stayed with me at an Arab camp for three months, where I was left to look after Nelson, and sick men, and boxes, etc., are reduced to skin and bone. Out of thirty-eight, eleven died of starvation. Stairs was the only officer wounded, but many of the men died from their wounds. "We are all in a bad way for boots; none of us have a good pair. I have made two pairs, but they did not last long, and all my clothes have been stolen by 'Rehani,' a Zanzibari. Stanley has had me working hard all day, and I have only time to write these few lines as the sun is going down. Our party have lost and sold a great quantity of ammunition. "Give my best wishes to old Jameson, also the other fellows whom I know; and hoping to see you up here before long, "Believe me, yours very sincerely, "J. H. P. "We are all awfully sick of this 'bush'; it continues to within a few miles of the Lake." The next day was a halt. The senior Chief Rashid and his land party did not arrive before 2 P.M. of the 11th. The current had carried our flotilla in five hours, a journey which occupied him fifteen hours' march. But on the 12th of August, having safely passed the canoes below the rapids, we embarked at noon and proceeded down river. Opposite Elephant-playground camp we met one of Ugarrowwa's scouting canoes ascending, the men of which related wonderful stories of the strength, fierceness, and boldness of the Batundu natives. Two hours later the Batundu drums announced our advent on the river; but when their canoes advanced to reckon the number of our vessels, they quietly retired, and we occupied their chief village in peace, and slept undisturbed during the night. At S. Mupé we arrived on the 13th, and halted one day to prepare food for our further journey down river, but on the next day, the 15th, we passed the flotilla safely down the various rapids, and camped below the lowest Mariri Rapids. Resuming the journey on the 16th, we floated and paddled past three of our land march camps, and on a large island possessing huts sufficient to accommodate 2,000 people we halted for the night. Both banks of the river were unpeopled and abandoned, but no one could impart any reason for this wholesale devastation. Our first thought was that our visit had perhaps caused their abandonment, but as the natives had occupied their respective villages in view of the rear guard, we concluded that probably some internecine war was the cause. This day was the eighty-third since we had departed from the shores of the Albert Nyanza, and the sixtieth since we had left Fort Bodo. Our progress had been singularly successful. Of the naked Madi carriers we had lost a great many, nearly half of the number that we had departed from the Nyanza with; but of the hardened and acclimatised Zanzibaris we had lost but three, two of whom were by drowning, and one was missing through a fit of spleen. Five hundred and sixty miles of the journey had been accomplished, there were only ninety miles remaining between Bungangeta Island and Yambuya, yet not a rumour of any kind had been heard respecting the fate of our friends and followers of the rear column. This constant and unsatisfied longing, pressing on my mind with a weight as of lead, with the miserable unnourishing diet of dry plantains, was fast reducing me into an aged and decrepit state of mind and body. That old buoyant confident feeling which had upheld me so long had nearly deserted me quite. I sat near sunset by the waterside alone, watching the sun subside lower and lower before the horizon of black foliage that bounded Makubana, the limits of my view. I watched the ashen grey clouds preceding the dark calm of night, and I thought it represented but too faithfully the melancholy which I could not shake off. This day was nearly twelve months from the date the rear column should have set out from Yambuya--365 days. Within this period 100 carriers only might have been able to have advanced as far as Bungangeta, even if they had to make seven round trips backwards and forwards? What could possibly have happened except wholesale desertion caused by some misunderstanding between the officers and men? In the darkness I turned into my tent, but in my nervous and highly-strung state could find no comfort there; and at last I yielded and implored the all-seeing and gracious Providence to restore to me my followers and companions, and allay the heartache that was killing me. At the usual hour on the 17th, we embarked in our canoes and resumed our journey down the river, paddling languidly as we floated. It was a sombre morning; a heavy greyness of sky painted the eternal forest tops of a sombrous mourning colour. As we glided past Bungangeta district we observed that the desolation had not been confined to it, but that Makubana also had shared the same fate; and soon after coming in view of the mighty curve of Banalya, which south or left bank had been so populous, we observed that the district of the Banalya had also been included. But about half-past nine we saw one village, a great way down through the light mist of the morning, still standing, which we supposed was the limit of the devastation. But as we drew near we discovered that it had a stockade. In July 1887, when we passed up, Banalya was deemed too powerful to need a stockade. Presently white dresses were seen, and quickly taking up my field glass, I discovered a red flag hoisted. A suspicion of the truth crept into my mind. A light puff of wind unrolled the flag for an instant, and the white crescent and star was revealed. I sprang to my feet and cried out, "The Major, boys! Pull away bravely." A vociferous shouting and hurrahing followed, and every canoe shot forward at racing speed. [Illustration: VIEW OF BANALYA CURVE.] About 200 yards from the village we stopped paddling, and as I saw a great number of strangers on the shore, I asked, "Whose men are you?" "We are Stanley's men," was the answer delivered in mainland Swahili. But assured by this, and still more so as we recognised a European near the gate, we paddled ashore. The European on a nearer view turned out to be Mr. William Bonny, who had been engaged as doctor's assistant to the Expedition. Pressing his hand, I said, "Well, Bonny, how are you? Where is the Major? Sick, I suppose?" "The Major is dead, sir." "Dead? Good God! How dead? Fever?" "No, sir, he was shot." "By whom?" "By the Manyuema--Tippu-Tib's people." "Good heavens! Well, where is Jameson?" "At Stanley Falls." "What is he doing there, in the name of goodness?" "He went to obtain more carriers." "Well then, where is Mr. Ward, or Mr. Troup?" "Mr. Ward is at Bangala." "Bangala! Bangala! what can he be doing there?" "Yes, sir, he is at Bangala, and Mr. Troup has been invalided home some months ago." These queries, rapidly put and answered as we stood by the gate at the water side, prepared me to hear as deplorable a story as could be rendered of one of the most remarkable series of derangements that an organized body of men could possibly be plunged into. Despite Mr. Bonny's well written report of the events which had occurred, it was many days before I could find time to study and understand the details. The strangers I had observed belonged to Tippu-Tib, and they now pressed congratulations upon our arrival, and our people hurrying in through the narrow gate with the baggage from the canoes, bawling out recognition of their friends, leaping with joy, or howling with grief, made Banalya Camp indescribably tumultuous. Let us imagine the baggage stored orderly, the canoes lashed to stakes firmly driven in the bank, the congratulations of the strangers over, the Zanzibaris of the advance column departed from our immediate vicinity to seek their long-lost friends and to hear the news, the Soudanese and Zanzibari survivors of the rear column having uttered their fervid thanks that we had at last--at last, thank God--come, and such letters as had arrived hastily read, despatches hastily written, sent by couriers to Stanley Falls, one for Tippu-Tib himself, and one for the Committee of the Relief Fund, and we shall be at liberty to proceed with the story of the rear column, as gathered from Mr. Bonny's reports oral and written, and from the surviving Soudanese soldiers and Zanzibaris, and we shall then see how the facts differed or agreed with our anticipations. [Illustration: MEETING WITH THE REAR COLUMN AT BANALYA.] CHAPTER XX. THE SAD STORY OF THE REAR COLUMN. Tippu-Tib--Major E. M. Barttelot--Mr. J. S. Jameson--Mr. Herbert Ward--Messrs. Troup and Bonny--Major Barttelot's Report on the doings of the rear column--Conversation with Mr. Bonny--Major Barttelot's letter to Mr. Bonny--Facts gleaned from the written narrative of Mr. Wm. Bonny--Mr. Ward detained at Bangala--Repeated visits of the Major to Stanley Falls--Murder of Major Barttelot--Bonny's account of the murder--The assassin Sanga is punished--Jameson dies of fever at Bangala Station--Meeting of the advance and rear columns--Dreadful state of the camp--Tippu-Tib and Major Barttelot--Mr. Jameson--Mr. Herbert Ward's report. The principal characters of the following narrative are:-- First. Tippu-Tib, _alias_ Sheikh Hamed bin Mohammed, a man who is a native of the East Coast of Africa, of Arab descent. He has thousands of men under his command. He is a renowned slave trader, with a passion for extending his conquests and traffic in ivory and slaves, who, while meditating war against an infant State lately created in Africa, is persuaded to agree to a peace pact, to confine his destructive raids within certain limits, and, finally, to lend the services of 600 carriers to our Expedition, which is destined for the rescue of a worthy Governor beleaguered by many enemies at the north end of the Albert Nyanza. While exhibiting the utmost goodwill, ungrudging hospitality, and exercising numerous small kindnesses to the officers of the Expedition, he contrives to delay performing the terms of his solemn contract, and months are wasted before he moves to take the necessary steps for accomplishing his duties. Finally, as the officers provoke him by constant and persistent entreaties, he makes a journey of over 700 miles, collects the carriers, and after eleven months' systematic delay, surrenders them to his white friends. But a few weeks later a catastrophe occurs: one of the headmen of these carriers, named Sanga, points his musket at the principal European officer in charge, and shoots him dead. [Illustration: MAJOR BARTTELOT.] Second, is Major Edmund Musgrave Barttelot, a generous, frank, and chivalrous young English officer, distinguished in Afghanistan and on the Soudanese Nile for pluck and performance of duty. His rank and past experience in the command of men entitle him to the appointment of commander of the rear column. He is instructed to remain at Yambuya until the arrival of a certain contingent of carriers from Bolobo, in the charge of three subordinate officers, Messrs. Ward, Troup, and Bonny. If Tippu-Tib has arrived previous to or by that date, he is to lose no time in following the track of the advance column, which has preceded him by about seven weeks. If Tippu-Tib has not arrived by the time the Bolobo contingent has reached Yambuya, he is to make a forward move by slow stages with his own force of about 210 carriers, making repeated trips backwards and forwards until all the essentials are removed from camp to camp; he is allowed discretion what to dispense with in order to be enabled to march; the articles are mentioned which may be thrown away. He declares the instructions to be clear and intelligible. He vows that he will not wait longer at Yambuya than the arrival of the Bolobo people, and satisfies us all that in him we have a man of energy, resolution, and action, and that there is no need of anxiety respecting the conduct of the rear column. In every letter and report he appears animated by the utmost loyalty and willing spirit. Third, is a young civilian named James Sligo Jameson, a gentleman of wealth, with a passion for natural history studies, who, professing a fraternal attachment for his friend the Major, is appointed second in command of the rear column. It is reported of him, that "his alacrity, capacity, and willingness to work are unbounded"; whatsoever his friend the Major proposes receives the ready sanction of Mr. Jameson; and he has a claim to having much experience and judgment for former adventurous travels in Mashona Land and Matabele. Barely four weeks after the assassination of his friend he dies, utterly worn out by fever and trouble. Three young Englishmen come last, who are attached to the Major's staff, two of whom, Mr. Herbert Ward and Mr. Troup, are to be associated with the commander and his second in the discussion of every vital step, and no important decision can be taken unless a council of the four has been convened to consider it as to its bearing upon the enterprise for which they have assembled on the verge of the unknown region of woods. They are therefore implicated in the consequences of any resolution and every sequent act. They are not boys new from school, and fresh from the parental care. They are mature and travelled men. Mr. Herbert Ward has seen service in Borneo, New Zealand, and Congo land; is bright, intelligent and capable. Mr. John Rose Troup has also served under my command in the Congo State, and has been mentioned in my record of the founding of that State as an industrious and zealous officer. Mr. William Bonny has seen service in the Zulu and Nile campaigns, has lived years in South America, and appears to be a staid and observing man. [Illustration: MR. JAMESON.] Now here is the inexplicable mystery. We have parted from them while warmly and even affectionately attached to each other. We have plighted our words one to the other. "Fear not," say they; "we shall be doing and striving, cheerfully and loyally." We believe them, and hand in hand we pledge ourselves. We return from our quest of Emin Pasha, and according to Major Barttelot's own Report (see Appendix) we learn the following striking facts:-- 1st. "Rumour is always rife, and is seldom correct, concerning Mr. Stanley. He is not dead to the best of my belief. I have been obliged to open Mr. Stanley's boxes, as I cannot carry all his stuff." He sends to Bangala all my clothing, maps, and charts, reserved medicines for the Expedition, photo chemicals and reserve negatives, extra springs for Winchesters, Remingtons, essentials for tents, and my entire canteen. He reduces me to absolute nakedness. I am so poor as to be compelled to beg a pair of pants from Mr. Bonny, cut another pair from an old white blanket in the possession of a deserter, and another from a curtain in my tent. But Messrs. Jameson, Troup, and Bonny are present, concurring and assisting, and the two last-named receive salaries, and both present their accounts and are paid, not a penny deducted, and a liberal _largesse_ besides in first-class passages home is granted to them. 2nd. "There are four other Soudanese and twenty-nine Zanzibaris who are unable to proceed with us." "Two cases of Madeira were also sent him (Mr. Stanley). One case I am sending back"--that is, down the Congo. He also collects a choice assortment of jams, sardines, herrings, wheaten flour, sago, tapioca, arrowroot, &c., and ships them on board the steamer which takes Mr. Troup homeward. And there are thirty-three dying men in camp. We may presume that the other gentlemen concurred in this deed also. 3rd. "I shall go on to Wadelai, and ascertain from Emin Pasha, if he be there still, if he has any news of Mr. Stanley; also of his own intentions as regards staying or leaving. I need not tell you that all our endeavours will be most strenuous to make the quest in which we are going a success. It may be he only needs ammunition to get away by himself, in which case I would in all probability be able to supply him." On the 14th of August Mr. John Rose Troup has delivered over to Major Barttelot 129 cases Remington rifle cartridges, in addition to the twenty-nine left by me at Yambuya. These 158 cases contain 80,000 rounds. By June 9th (see Barttelot's Report) this supply has dwindled down to 35,580 rounds. There has been no marching, no fighting. They have decreased during a camp life of eleven months in the most unaccountable manner. There are left with the rear column only sufficient to give fifty rounds to each rifle in the possession of Emin Pasha's troops. Half of the gunpowder, and more than two-thirds of the bales of cloth, have disappeared. Though Yambuya originally contained a store of 300,000 percussion-caps, it has been found necessary to purchase £48 worth from Tippu-Tib. 4th. "The loads we do not take are to be sent to Bangala. They will be loaded (on the steamers) on June 8th (1888), a receipt being given for them by Mr. Van Kerkhoven, which is forwarded to you; also a letter of instructions to him and to Mr. Ward. Perhaps you would kindly give the requisite order concerning the loads and two canoes purchased for Mr. Ward's transport, as it is nearly certain I shall not return that way, and shall have, therefore, no further need of them _or him_." (See Appendix--Barttelot's Report). Mr. Ward has been despatched down river to telegraph to the Committee for instructions; he was supposed to bring those instructions back from the sea with him. Here we are told the Major has no further need of him. He has also written to Captain Van Kerkhoven, of Bangala, not to allow him to ascend above Bangala. In the last paragraph of Mr. Jameson's letter to Mr. Bonny I note a reference to this change. 5th. The rear column consisted of 271 souls rank and file when we parted from Yambuya, June 28th, 1887. In October, 1887, this force, according to a letter from the Major, had decreased to 246 men. On June 4th, 1888, while the rear column lies still in the same camp (see the Major's Report) it has diminished to 135 men rank and file. On August 17th, 1888, I demand from Mr. William Bonny, who is in sole charge at that date, an official report as to the number of men left of the rear column, and he presents me with the following:-- "List of Zanzibaris left by Mr. Stanley at Bolobo and Yambuya, inclusive of eleven men, deserters, picked up from advance column:-- 78 dead. 26 deserted. 10 with Mr. Jameson (Bangala). 29 left sick at Yambuya. 5 left sick on road. 75 present at Banalya, August 17th, 1888. ---- 223 Return of Soudanese and Somalis and Syrians left at Yambuya:-- 21 died. 1 killed by natives. 1 executed by order of Major Barttelot. 3 sent down Congo to Egypt. 4 left sick at Yambuya. 1 sick handed over to care of Congo State. 22 present at Banalya, August 17th, 1888. ---- 53 223 ---- 276 Return of British officers left by Mr. Stanley at Bolobo and Yambuya:-- 1 John Rose Troup, invalided home. 1 Herbert Ward, sent down river by Major Barttelot. 1 James S. Jameson, proceeded down Congo. 1 Edmund M. Barttelot, Major (murdered). 1 William Bonny, present at Banalya, August 17th, 1888. ---- 5 276 ---- 281 11 deserters from advance column. ---- 270 1 error. ---- 271 ---- Dead and lost. 78 Zanzibaris dead. 29 left sick at Yambuya. 4 left sick at Yambuya. 5 left sick on road. 21 Soudanese dead. 1 killed by natives. 1 executed. ---- 139 ---- 6th. The steamer _Stanley_ arrived at Yambuya on the 14th of August, within a few days of the date mentioned in the Letter of Instructions. On the 17th she departs to her port at Leopoldville, and has severed all connection with the Expedition. The officers of the Congo State have behaved loyally according to their Sovereign's promise. It only remains now for the rear column to pack up and depart slowly but steadily along our track, because Tippu-Tib has not arrived, and according to the issue anticipated will not come. I turn to Mr. Bonny, and ask, "Were you not all anxious to be at work?" "Yes, sir." "Were you not burning to be off from Yambuya?" "Yes, sir." "Were you all equally desirous to be on the road?" "I believe so. Yes, sir." "Well, Mr. Bonny, tell me--if it be true that you were all burning, eager, and anxious to be off--why you did not devise some plan better than travelling backwards and forwards between Yambuya and Stanley Falls?" "I am sure I don't know, sir. I was not the chief, and if you will observe, in the Letter of Instructions you did not even mention my name." "That is very true; I ask your pardon; but you surely did not remain silent because I omitted to mention your name, did you--you a salaried official of the Expedition?" "No, sir. I did speak often." "Did the others?" "I don't know, sir." I have never obtained further light from Mr. Bonny, though at every leisure hour it was a constant theme. A year after this we were at Usambiro, south of the Victoria Nyanza, and I received a clipping of a newspaper wherein there was a copy of Major Barttelot's letter of October, 1887. There was a portion which said, "We shall be obliged to stay here until November." I know that they thought they were obliged to remain until June 11, 1888. I turn to Major Barttelot's letter of June 4th, 1888 (see Appendix), wherein he says, "I feel it my bounden duty to proceed on this business, in which I am fully upheld by both Mr. Jameson and Mr. Bonny; to wait longer would be both useless and culpable, as Tippu-Tib has not the remotest intention of helping us any more, and to withdraw would be pusillanimous, and, I am certain, entirely contrary to your wishes and those of the Committee." I turned to my Letter of Instructions, and I find in Paragraph 10: "It may happen that though Tippu-Tib has sent some men, he has not sent enough to carry the goods with your own force. In that case you will of course use your discretion as to what goods you can dispense with, to enable you to march." Paragraph 11. "If you still cannot march, then it would be better to make marches of six miles twice over, if you prefer marching to staying for our arrival, than throw too many things away." (See Letter of Instructions in a preceding chapter.) At Usambiro also I received the answer which the Committee sent in reply to Mr. Ward's cablegram from St. Paul de Loanda, asking them to "wire advice and opinion." _To Major Barttelot, Care Ward, Congo._ "_Committee refer you to Stanley's orders of the 24th June. If you still cannot march in accordance with these orders, then stay where you are, awaiting his arrival, or until you receive fresh instructions from Stanley."_ A committee 6000 miles away penetrate into the spirit of the instructions instantly, but a committee of five officers at Yambuya do not appear to understand them, though they have been drawn up on the clear understanding that each officer would prefer active movement and occupation to an inactive life and idle waiting at Yambuya. 7th. Mr. William Bonny, whose capacity to undertake serious responsibilities is unknown to me, is not mentioned in the Letter of Instructions. On my return to Banalya, Mr. Bonny hands me the following order written by Major Barttelot. "Yambuya Camp, "_April 22nd, 1888_. "Sir,--In event of my death, detention of Arabs, absence from any cause from Yambuya camp, you will assume charge of the Soudanese company, the Zanzibar company, and take charge of the stores, sleeping in the house where they are placed. All orders to Zanzibaris, Somalis, and Soudanese will be issued by you and to them only. All issues of cloth, matako (brass rods), etc., will be at your discretion, but expenditure of all kinds must as much as possible be kept under. Relief to Mr. Stanley, care of the loads and men, good understanding between yourself and the Arabs must be your earnest care; anything or anybody attempting to interfere between you and these matters must be instantly removed. "I have the honour to be, Sir, &c., "Edmund M. Barttelot, "_Major_." What remains for the faithful Jameson, "whose alacrity, capacity, and willingness to work are unbounded," to do? Where is the promising, intelligent, and capable Ward? What position remains for the methodical, business-like, and zealous Mr. John Rose Troup? Mr. Bonny has been suddenly elevated to the command of the rear column in the event of any unhappy accident to Major Barttelot. My first fear was that I had become insane. When I alone of all men attempt to reconcile these inexplicable contrarinesses with what I know animated each and every officer of the rear column, I find that all the wise editors of London differ from me. In the wonderful log-book entries I read noble zeal, indefatigable labour, marches and counter-marches, and a limitless patience. In the Major's official report, in Mr. Jameson's last sad letter (see Appendix), I discern a singleness of purpose, inflexible resolve and the true fibre of loyalty, tireless energy, and faith, and a devotion which disdains all calculation of cost. When I came to compare these things one with another, my conclusion was that the officers at Yambuya had manifestly been indifferent to the letter of instructions, and had forgotten their promises. When Mr. Bonny told me that one of them had risen at a mess meeting to propose that my instructions should be cancelled, and that the ideas of Major Barttelot should be carried out in future--it did appear to me that the most charitable construction that could be placed upon such conduct was that they were indifferent to any suggestions which had been drawn out purposely to satisfy their own oft-repeated desire of "moving on." But how I wish that I had been there for just one hour only on that August 17th, 1887, when the five officers were assembled--adrift and away, finally from all touch with civilization--to discuss what they should do, to tell them that "Joy's soul lies in the doing, And the rapture of pursuing Is the prize." To remind them that "The path of duty is the way to glory." What! count your hundreds of loads! What are they? Look, it is simply this: 200 carriers are here to-day. There are 500 loads. Hence to the next village is ten miles. In six days your 200 men have carried the 500 loads ten miles. In four months you are inland about 150 miles. In eight months you are 300 miles nearer to the Nyanza, and long before that time you have lightened your labours by conveying most of your burdens in canoes; you will have heard all about that advance column as early as October, the second month of work; for powder and guns, you may get Ugarrowwa's flotilla to help you, and by the time the advance column starts from Fort Bodo to hunt you up, you will be safe in Ugarrowwa's settlement, and long before that you will have met the couriers with charts of the route with exact information of what lies before you, where food is to be obtained, and every one of you will be healthier and happier, and you will have the satisfaction of having performed even a greater task than the advance column, and obtained the "kudos" which you desired. The bigger the work the greater the joy in doing it. That whole-hearted striving and wrestling with Difficulty; the laying hold with firm grip and level head and calm resolution of the monster, and tugging, and toiling, and wrestling at it, to-day, to-morrow, and the next until it is done; it is the soldier's creed of forward, ever forward--it is the man's faith that for this task was he born. Don't think of the morrow's task, but what you have to do to-day, and go at it. When it is over, rest tranquilly, and sleep well. But I was unable to be present; I could only rely on their promise that they would limit their faith in Tippu-Tib until the concentration of all officers and men attached to the rear column, and insist that the blazing on the trees, the broad arrow-heads pointing the way, should be well made for their clear guidance through the almost endless woods, from one side of the forest to its farthest edge. Yet curiously hungering to know why Barttelot, who was "spoiling for work," and Jameson, who was so earnest, and had paid a thousand pounds for the privilege of being with us, and Ward, who I thought was to be the future Clive of Africa, and Troup, so noted for his industry, and Bonny, so steady and so obedient, so unconsciously acted as to utterly prevent them from doing what I believe from my soul they wished to do as much as I or any other of us did, a conviction flashes upon my mind that there has been a supernatural malignant influence or agency at work to thwart every honest intention. A few instances will tend to strengthen this conviction. I freely and heartily admit that the five officers burned to leave Yambuya, and to assist in prosecuting unto successful issue the unique enterprise they had sacrificed so much comfort to join. But they are utterly unable to move, try how they may. They believe I am alive, and they vow to make a strenuous quest for me, but they reduce me to nakedness. They are determined to start in quest and relief of Emin Pasha, because "to withdraw would be pusillanimous, and to stay longer would be culpable," and yet they part with the necessary ammunition that they wish to carry to him. They confess that there are thirty-three sick men unable to move at Yambuya, and yet the very stores, medicaments, and wine that might have saved them they box up and send to Bangala, after first obtaining a receipt for them. They have all signed agreements wherein each officer shall have a fair share of all European preserved provisions, perfect delicacies, and yet they decline to eat them, or allow the sick men to eat them, but despatch them out of the hungry woods to the station of Bangala. Mr. Bonny, as I understand, expressed no regret or audible dissent at their departure. From pure habit of discipline he refrained from demanding his fair share, and like a good Englishman, but mighty poor democrat, he parted with his inalienable right without a murmur. They searched for Manyuema slaves, cannibals of the Bakusu and Basongora tribes to replace their dead Zanzibaris and Soudanese, Somalis and Syrians, and it came to pass a few weeks after they had obtained these cannibals that one of their head men assassinates the English commander. Also on a fatal date, fatal because that resolution to wait sealed their fate, an officer of the advance column was straying through an impenetrable bush with 300 despairing men behind him, and on this fatal date the next year, Mr. Bonny, the sole survivor of the English band, pours into my ears a terrible tale of death and disaster, while at the same hour poor Jameson breathes his last, tired and worn out with his futile struggles to "move on" at Bangala, 500 miles west of me; and 600 miles east of me, the next day, Emin Pasha and Mr. Jephson walk into the arms of the rebel soldiery of Equatoria. This is all very uncanny if you think of it. There is a supernatural _diablerie_ operating which surpasses the conception and attainment of a mortal man. In addition to all these mischiefs a vast crop of lying is germinated in these darksome shades in the vicinity of Stanley Falls, or along the course of the Upper Congo, showing a measureless cunning, and an insatiable love of horror. My own murder appears to be a favourite theme, quantities of human bones are said to be discovered by some reconnoitering party, human limbs are said to be found in cooking-pots, sketches by an amateur artist are reported to have been made of whole families indulging in cannibal repasts; it is more than hinted that Englishmen are implicated in raids, murder, and cannibalism, that they have been making targets of native fugitives while swimming in the Aruwimi, all for the mere sake of infusing terror, alarm, and grief among quiet English people, and to plague our friends at home. The instruments this dark power elects for the dissemination of these calumnious fables are as various in their professions as in their nationality. It is a deserter one day, and the next it is an engineer of a steamer; it is now a slave-trader, or a slave; it is a guileless missionary in search of work, or a dismissed Syrian; it is a young artist with morbid tastes, or it is an officer of the Congo Free State. Each in his turn becomes possessed with an insane desire to say or write something which overwhelms common sense, and exceeds ordinary belief. From the official written narrative of Mr. William Bonny I glean the following, and array the facts in clear order. The _Stanley_ steamer has departed from Yambuya early in the morning of August 17th, 1887. The goods she has brought up are stored within the magazine, and as near as I can gather there are 266 men within the entrenched camp. As they are said to have met to deliberate upon their future steps we may assume that the letter of instructions was read, and that they did not understand them. They think the wisest plan would be to await Tippu-Tib, who, it will be remembered, had promised to Major Barttelot that he would be after him within nine days. On this day the officers heard firing across the river almost opposite to Yambuya. Through their binoculars they see the aborigines chased into the river by men dressed in white clothes, who are shooting at them from the north or right bank. Conceiving that the marauders must be some of Tippu-Tib's men, they resolve upon electing an officer and a few men to interview them, and to cease from molesting the natives who have long ago become friendly and are under their protection. The officer goes across, finds their camp, and invites Abdallah, their chief, to visit the English commander of Yambuya. The Major thus learns that these marauders really belong to Tippu-Tib, and that Stanley Falls is but six days' march overland from Yambuya. Probably believing that, after all, Tippu-Tib may be persuaded to assist the Expedition, he inquires for and obtains guides to conduct some of his party to Stanley Falls, to speak and treat in his behalf with that chieftain whom we have conveyed from Zanzibar to Stanley Falls, with free rations in consideration of the help he had solemnly contracted to furnish. On August 29, Mr. Ward returns from the Falls with a reply from Tippu-Tib, wherein he promises that he will collect the carriers needed and send them within ten days. The first promise in June was "in nine days"; the promise is in August "in ten days." A few days later Mr. Jameson returns from Stanley Falls in company of Salim bin Mohammed, a nephew of Tippu-Tib, and a large party of Manyuema. This party is reported to be the vanguard of the carrier contingent, which Tippu-Tib will shortly bring in person. In the interval of waiting for him, however, trouble breaks out on the Lumami, and Tippu-Tib is obliged to hurry to the scene to settle it. The Yambuya garrison, however, are daily expecting his presence. Unable to bear the suspense, the second visit to Stanley Falls is undertaken, this time by Major Barttelot in person. It is the 1st of October. Salim bin Mohammed accompanied him, and also Mr. Troup. On the way thither they met Tippu-Tib advancing towards Yambuya, having six deserters from the advance column, each bearing a weighty tusk. The Major graciously remits the six ivory tusks to the Arab chief, and, as they must have a palaver, they go together to Stanley Falls. After one month the Major returns to his camp, on the Aruwimi, and states that Tippu-Tib, unable to muster 600 carriers in the Stanley Falls region, is obliged to proceed to Kasongo, about 350 miles above Stanley Falls, and that this journey of about 700 miles (to Kasongo and back) will occupy forty-two days. Meantime, twenty of the Major's own people have been buried outside the camp. The English commander learns that during his absence, Majato, a head man of the Manyuema, has been behaving "badly," that he has been, in fact, intimidating the natives who marketed with the garrison, with the view of starving the soldiers and Zanzibaris, or reaping some gain by acting as the middleman or factor in the exchange of goods for produce. Hearing these things, the Major naturally becomes indignant, and forthwith despatches Mr. Ward, who makes the third visit to the Falls to complain of the arbitrary conduct of Majato. The complaint is effective, and, Majato is immediately withdrawn. In the beginning of 1888, Salim bin Mohammed arrives at Yambuya for the second time, and presently becomes so active in enforcing certain measures against the natives that the food supply of the camp is wholly cut off and never renewed. He also commences the construction of a permanent camp of substantial mud-built huts, at half a bow-shot's distance from the palisades of Yambuya, and completely invests the fort on the land side, as though he were preparing for a siege of the place. After a futile effort to bribe Salim with the offer of a thousand pounds to lead a Manyuema contingent to follow the track of the advance column, Major Barttelot and Mr. Jameson, about the middle of February, undertake the fourth visit to Stanley Falls. Salim, fearing unfavourable accounts of his behaviour, accompanies them _en route_; the party meet 250 Manyuema, but as they have no written instructions with them, they are permitted to scatter over the country in search of ivory. In March Salim returns to Yambuya, and intimates to the officers that no doubt the carriers would be ultimately forthcoming, not however for the purpose of following Mr. Stanley's track, but to proceed _viâ_ Ujiji and Unyoro; a mere haziness of geography! On the 25th of March, Major Barttlelot returns to the camp with information that Mr. Jameson, the indefatigable Jameson, has proceeded up river in the track of Tippu-Tib with the intention of reaching Kasongo. He also announces his intention of forming a flying column, and leaving the larger part of his goods at Stanley Falls in charge of an officer! He also prepares a telegram to the committee in London which is as follows:-- "St. Paul de Loanda, "_1st May, 1888_. "No news of Stanley since writing last October. Tippu-Tib went to Kasongo, Nov. 16th, but up to March has only got us 250 men. More are coming, but uncertain in number, and as precaution, presuming Stanley in trouble (it would) be absurd in me to start with less number than he did, while carrying more loads--minus Maxim gun. Therefore I have sent Jameson to Kasongo to hasten Tippu-Tib in regard to originally proposed number of 600 men, and to obtain as many fighting men as possible up to 400, also to make as advantageous terms as he can regarding service, and payment of men, he and I guaranteeing money in name of Expedition. Jameson will return about the 14th, but earliest day to start will be June 1st, when I propose leaving an officer with all loads not absolutely wanted at Stanley Falls. Ward carries this message; please obtain wire from the King of the Belgians to the Administrator of the Free State to place carriers at his disposal, and have steamers in readiness to convey him to Yambuya. If men come before his arrival I shall start without him. He should return about July 1st. Wire advice and opinion. Officers all well. Ward awaits reply. "Barttelot." Mr. Ward proceeded down the Congo, and in an unprecedentedly short time reached the sea-board, cabled his despatch, received the following reply, and started up the Congo again for the Yambuya camp. "Major Barttelot, care Ward, Congo. "Committee refer you to Stanley's orders of the 24th June, 1887. If you still cannot march in accordance with these orders, then stay where you are, awaiting his arrival or until you receive fresh instructions from Stanley. Committee do not authorise the engagement of fighting men. News has been received from Emin Pasha _viâ_ Zanzibar, dated Wadelai, November 2nd. Stanley was not then heard of: Emin Pasha is well and in no immediate want of supplies, and goes to south-west of lake to watch for Stanley. Letters have been posted regularly _viâ_ East Coast. "Chairman of Committee." Mr. Ward on arriving at Bangala is detained there by order. The Committee have made a slight mistake in calling my letter of instructions "orders." The instructions are not exactly "orders." They are suggestions or advices tendered by the Commander of the Expedition to the Commanding Officer of the rear column, which he may follow or reject at his own discretion. Major Barttelot has expressed an impatient desire to be of active service to the Expedition. He declares that it is his dearest wish to leave Yambuya to follow on our track. The Commander of the Expedition, strongly sympathising with the impetuous young officer, writes out a series of suggestions by which his desire may be realized, and gives him further a pencilled estimate (see Appendix) by what manner the forward advance after us may be done. The Major earnestly promises to conform to these suggestions, and the parting between him and myself is on this understanding. But they are not positive "orders," as a man's epitaph can best be written after his death, so the measure of "kudos" to be given a man is best known after the value of his services has been ascertained. At the end of March the Major is on bad terms with Salim bin Mohammed, which compels him to make a fifth visit to Stanley Falls to obtain his removal. About the middle of April Major Barttelot returns to his camp, and Salim has orders to quit Yambuya. Instead, however, of proceeding to Stanley Falls, he proposes a raid upon a large village below Yambuya, but in a few days he reappears, stating that he has heard a rumour that the advance column is descending the upper waters of the Aruwimi. On the 9th of May, 1888, the Major proceeds to make a sixth visit to Stanley Falls, and on the 22nd of the month makes his reappearance with the indefatigable Jameson and a large party of Manyuema. Three days later the procrastinating Tippu-Tib, who, on the 18th of June, 1887, said that he would be at Yambuya within nine days, and in August within ten days, arrives by steamer _A. I. A._ The _Stanley_ also steams up to deliver letters for the expedition. As Tippu-Tib suggested that the loads 60lbs. weight were too heavy for his people, the officers were obliged to reduce them to 40, 30, and 20lb. weights, to suit his views. This was no light task, but it had to be performed. As an advance payment, Mr. Bonny relates that forty-seven bales of cloth, a vast store of powder and fixed ammunition are delivered, and £128 worth of stores are given to Muini Sumai, the head man of the Manyuema battalion. The European provisions are then overhauled, and such articles as Madeira wine, jams, sago, tapioca, arrowroot, sardines, herrings, and wheat flour are boxed up, and with eight boxes of my baggage are shipped on board the steamer for Bangala as unnecessary and superfluous, in the same vessel on which Mr. Troup is an invalid passenger bound home. Finally, on the 11th of June, 1888, after weeding out twenty-nine Zanzibaris and four Soudanese who are too feeble to work, Messrs. Barttelot, Jameson, and Bonny leave the camp they should have left not later than the 25th of August, 1887, with a following of Zanzibaris, Soudanese, Somalis, and Manyuema, aggregating nearly 900 men, women, and children, with the intention of making that "strenuous quest" for the lost Commander and to relieve Emin Pasha. These six visits to Stanley Falls which the Major and his friends have made amount in the aggeregate to 1200 English miles of marching. The untiring Major has personally travelled 800 miles, while Jameson has performed 1200 miles. If only these 1200 miles had been travelled between Yambuya and the Albert, the rear column would have reached Panga Falls. Even by travelling sixty miles, to gain a direct advance of ten miles, they would have been cheered and encouraged by our letters and charts to press on to Avejeli to recuperate among the abundant plantains of that rich and populous settlement. But while the Major and his officers were endeavouring to stimulate an unwilling man to perform his contract with forty-five guinea rifles, Remington rifles, ivory-handled revolvers and ammunition, with many a fair bale of cloth, their own faithful men were dying at a frightful rate. Out of the original roll of 271, there are only 132 left of rank and file, and out of these 132 by the time they have arrived at Banalya there are only 101 remaining, and nearly a half of these are so wasted by famine and disease that there is no hope of life in them. Thirteen days after the departure of the horde of Manyuema and the anæmic Zanzibaris from the fatal camp of Yambuya, the Major undertakes a seventh visit to Stanley Falls, and leaves the column to struggle on its way to Banalya without him. On the forty-third day of the march of ninety miles the van of the rear column enters the palisaded village of Banalya, which has become in my absence a station of Tippu-Tib's in charge of an Arab called Abdallah Karoni, and on the same day the restless and enterprising Major enters it on his return from Stanley Falls. On the next day some misunderstanding takes place between him and the chief Abdallah Karoni. The Major storms at him, and threatens to start to Stanley Falls for the eighth visit on the 20th of July to complain of his conduct to Tippu-Tib; but at dawn on the 19th of July the unfortunate commander is shot through the heart by the assassin Sanga. I will permit Mr. William Bonny's official report to detail what occurred in a revised form. "_18th July, 1888._--The Major continued to threaten Abdalla that if he did not get the carriers promised by Tippu-Tib he would return to Stanley Falls on the 20th, and he ordered the Arab to accompany him. The Major informed me he would be back on the 9th of August, but before concluding his remarks, he asked me, 'Don't you think I am doing the correct thing by going to Stanley Falls?' I answered, 'No, I don't see why you want sixty more men; you have men enough and to spare! You had better issue the rifles and ammunition to the men, and that will reduce the number of our burdens by fifteen, and trust the men. Mr. Stanley is obliged to trust the men. If they run away from you, they run away from him, but if you leave them in my hands I don't think they will run.' The Major said, 'I intend that you shall have command of the Zanzibaris and Soudanese from here, and you shall precede the Manyuema a day's march. Mr. Jameson and I will march with the Manyuema and get them into some order, and see they do not mix up with your people. I don't want to go to the Falls, but I want you to try to get some few men. If you only get me twenty I shall be satisfied. I asked Abdallah if he could let me have a few carriers. I obtained seven.' "_19th July._--Early this morning a Manyuema woman commenced beating a drum and singing. It is their daily custom. The Major sent his boy Soudi, who was only about thirteen years old, to stop them, but at once loud and angry voices were heard, followed by two shots by way of defiance. The Major ordered some Soudanese to go and find the men who were firing, at the same time getting up from bed himself and taking his revolvers from the case. He said, 'I will shoot the first man I catch firing.' I told him not to interfere with the people's daily custom, to remain inside, and not go out, inasmuch as they would soon be quiet. He went out revolver in hand to where the Soudanese were. They told him that they could not find the men who were firing. The Major then pushed aside some Manyuema and passed through them towards the woman who was beating the drum and singing, and ordered her to desist. Just then a shot was fired through a loophole, in an opposite hut from within, by Sanga, the woman's husband. The charge penetrated just below the region of the heart and passed out behind, lodging finally in a part of the verandah under which the Major fell dead. "The Soudanese ran away, and refused to follow me to get the Major's body; but I went, and was followed by one Somali, and one Soudanese, who with myself carried the body to my house. From the screaming I thought a general massacre had commenced, for I had not seen a single Zanzibari. They were either hiding within their houses or joining in the general stampede that followed. I now turned and saw one of the headmen of the Manyuema, who with rifle and revolver in hand was leading a body of sixty of his people to attack me. I had no arms. I walked up to him and asked him if he was leading his men to fight me. He replied 'No.' I said, 'Then take your men quietly to their houses and bring all the headmen to me, for I wish to speak to them.' Some headmen shortly afterwards made their appearance, and I said to them, 'The trouble is not mine, but Tippu-Tib's. I want you to bring me all the loads, and tell all your fellows to do the same. Tippu-Tib knows what each of you has in charge and is responsible for them. This is Tippu-Tib's trouble. Tippu-Tib will have to pay up if the goods are lost, and will punish the headman who causes him a loss. I shall write to him, and he will come here, and he shall know the name of him who refuses to do what I now wish.' This resulted in my getting back to the storeroom about 150 loads. I now sent my men to collect what goods they could, and before long I recovered 299 porter loads. They had been scattered all over the place, some in the forest, in the rice field, and in the village huts hidden away within and without, in fact everywhere. Some of the bead sacks and ammunition boxes had already been ripped or broken open, and the whole of their contents, or in part, gone. After counting up I found I was forty-eight loads short. The inhabitants of the village numbered about 200 or 300 people. I had arrived with about 100 men; Muni Sumai, the chief headman of the Manyuema, with 430 carriers and about 200 followers, making a total of about 1000 people, of whom 900 were cannibals, all confined within an area 160 yards by 25 yards. You can therefore better judge than I can describe the scene when the general stampede commenced, the screaming, firing, shouting, looting our stores, &c., &c. I regret to say that the Soudanese and Zanzibaris without exception joined in the looting, but in my turn I raided their houses and haunts and captured a quantity of cloth, beads, rice, &c. I had to punish severely before I succeeded in stopping it. I now wrote to Mr. Jameson, who was about four days off bringing up the remaining loads. I also wrote to Mons. Baert, a Congo State officer, and secretary to Tippu-Tib at Stanley Falls, explaining what had taken place, how I was situated, and asking him to use all his tact with Tippu-Tib to get him to come here or send some chief to replace Muini Sumai, who had been one of the first to abscond. I told Mons. Baert to tell Tippu-Tib that all Europe would blame him if he did not assist us. I then buried the Major, after sewing the body up in a blanket. I dug a grave just within the forest, placing leaves as a cushion at the bottom of the grave, and covered the body with the same. I then read the church service from our Prayer-Book over the body, and this brought the terrible day to a close. "The Major wrote and handed me the official order appointing me in command of the Zanzibari and Soudanese when the camp at Yambuya was in great danger,and his own life especially. I therefore take command of this Second Column of the Emin Pasha Relief Expedition until I see Mr. Stanley or return to the coast. "It shall be my constant care under God's help to make it more successful than heretofore. Mr. Jameson will occupy the same position as shown in Mr. Stanley's instructions to Major Barttelot on his going to Stanley Falls to settle with Tippu-Tib for another headman of the Manyuema. He has free hands, believing himself to be in command. I did not undeceive him. On his return here I will show him the document, a copy of which I have given above. "I have the honour to be, Sir, "&c., &c., "William Bonny. "To H. M. Stanley, Esq., "Commander E.P.R.E." Three days after the tragedy Mr. Jameson appears at Banalya with the rear guard of the rear column, and assumes command; but on the 25th of July, after leaving words of encouragement to Mr. Bonny, he undertakes the eighth visit to Stanley Falls in the hope that by making liberal offers of gold to satisfy the avaricious Tippu-Tib he may induce him either to head the Rear Column himself, or send one of his fiery nephews in his place--Salim bin Mohammed, or Rashid, who assaulted and captured Stanley Falls from Captain Deane. On August 12th he writes his last letter (see Appendix) to Mr. Bonny, and begins it, "The Expedition is at a very low ebb at present, as I think you will acknowledge." This is a sad fact very patent to everybody. After seeing the act of justice performed on the wretched assassin Sanga, and witnessing the shooting of him and the body tossed into the Congo, he departs from Stanley Falls for Bangala. For Mr. Jameson and Major Barttelot were both concerned in the detention of Ward for some reason at Bangala, and therefore the answer of the Committee to their cablegram of the 1st of May was in his possession. Mr. Jameson is anxious to know what its tenor is before a final movement, and he departs in a canoe with ten Zanzibaris. Night and day they float, and when opposite the Lumami he is attacked with fever. His constitution is open to its virulence, filled as his mind is with despondency, for the fortunes of the Expedition are--despite every strenuous endeavour on his part, his whole-hearted devotion, his marches and counter-marches, his tramp of 1400 miles (1200 miles before leaving Yambuya, thence to Banalya, and then to Stanley Falls), his sacrifice of money, physical comforts, and the pouring out of his soul to effect what he thinks ought to be done--but alas! "at their lowest ebb." And the fever mounts to his brain. By day and night the canoemen press on to the goal of Bangala Station, and arrive in time to put him in the arms of Mr. Ward, where he breathes his last, as the advance column, returning after its rushing and swinging pace through forest and by river from the Albert Nyanza, enter Banalya to demand "Where is Jameson?" Twenty-eight days after the tragic death of Major Barttelot, and twenty-three days after the departure of Jameson, the advance column returning from the Albert Nyanza, much reduced in numbers, and so tattered in their clothing that they were taken for pagans picked up by the way and their old comrades failed to recognise them, appeared at Banalya to learn for the first time the distressful story of the rear column. The life of misery which was related was increased by the misery which we saw. Pen cannot picture nor tongue relate the full horrors witnessed within that dreadful pest-hold. The nameless scourge of barbarians was visible in the faces and bodies of many a hideous-looking human being, who, disfigured, bloated, marred and scarred, came, impelled by curiosity, to hear and see us who had come from the forest land east, and who were reckless of the terror they inspired by the death embodied in them. There were six dead bodies lying unburied, and the smitten living with their festers lounged in front of us by the dozen. Others worn to thin skin and staring bone from dysentery and fell anæmia, and ulcers as large as saucers, crawled about and hollowly sounded their dismal welcome--a welcome to this charnel yard! Weak, wearied, and jaded in body and mind, I scarcely know how I endured the first few hours, the ceaseless story of calamity vexed my ears, a deadly stench of disease hung in the air, and the most repellent sights moved and surged before my dazed eyes. I heard of murder and death, of sickness and sorrow, anguish and grief, and wherever I looked the hollow eyes of dying men met my own with such trusting, pleading regard, such far-away yearning looks, that it seemed to me if but one sob was uttered my heart would break. I sat stupefied under a suffocating sense of despondency, yet the harrowing story moved on in a dismal cadence that had nought else in it but death and disaster, disaster and death. A hundred graves at Yambuya--thirty-three men perishing abandoned in the camp, ten dead on the road, about forty in the village about to yield their feeble hold of life, desertions over twenty, rescued a passable sixty! And of the gallant band of Englishmen? "Barttelot's grave is but a few yards off, Troup went home a skeleton, Ward is somewhere a wanderer, Jameson has gone to the Falls, I don't know why." "And you--you are the only one left?" "The only one, sir." If I were to record all that I saw at Banalya in its deep intensity of unqualified misery, it would be like stripping the bandages off a vast sloughing ulcer, striated with bleeding arteries, to the public gaze, with no earthly purpose than to shock and disgust. Implicitly believing as we did in the _élan_ of Barttelot, in the fidelity of Jameson, in the vigorous youth and manly promise of Ward, in the prudence and trustworthiness of Troup, and the self-command and steadiness of Bonny, all these revelations came to me with a severe shock. The column was so complete with every requisite for prolonged and useful work, but the "flood-tide of opportunity" flowed before them unseen and unnoted, therefore their marches became mere "marking time." What, Barttelot! that tireless man with the ever-rushing pace, that cheery young soldier, with his dauntless bearing, whose soul was ever yearning for glory. A man so lavishly equipped with Nature's advantages to bow the knee thus to the grey craftiness at Stanley Falls! It was all an unsolved riddle to me. I would have wagered he would have seized that flowing grey beard of Tippu-Tib and pounded the face to pulp, even in the midst of his power, rather than allow himself to be thus cajoled time and time again. The fervid vehemence of his promise not to wait a day after the fixed date yet rings in my ears; I feel the strong grip, and see the resolute face, and I remember my glowing confidence in him. It is said that "Still waters run deep." Now Jameson was such a still, and patient, and withal determined man that we all conceded a certain greatness to him. He had paid £1000 sterling, and had promised diligence and zealous service, for the privilege of being enrolled as a member of the Expedition. He had a passion for natural history to gratify, with a marked partiality for ornithology and entomology. According to Barttelot, "his alacrity, capacity, and willingness to work were unbounded," which I unqualifiedly endorse. What else he was may be best learned in his letter of August 12, and his entries in the log book. Zeal and activity grow into promise and relief as we read, he seals his devotion by offering out of his purse £10,000, and by that unhappy canoe voyage by day and by night, until he was lifted to his bed to die at Bangala. Granted that Tippu-Tib was kind to these young gentlemen during their frequent visits to Stanley Falls, and welcomed and feasted them on the best, and that he sent them back to Yambuya with loads of rice and flocks of goats, which is admitted. But his natural love of power, his ignorance of geography, his barbarous conceit, his growing indolence, and his quickened avarice proved insuperable obstacles to the realizing of Barttelot and Jameson's wishes, and were as fatally opposite to their interests and dearest desires as open war would have been. The wonder to me is that the officers never seem to be conscious that their visits and rich gifts to him are utterly profitless, and that the object they have at heart, their inherited qualities, their education, habits, and natures forbid any further repetition of them. For some mysterious reason they pin their faith with the utmost tenacity to Tippu-Tib, and to his promises of "nine days," then "ten days," then "forty-two days," &c., &c., all of which are made only to be broken. But the most icy heart may well be melted with compassion for these young men so prematurely cut off--and so near rescue after all. They bravely attempt to free their clouded minds and to judge clearly in which course lies their duty. At their mess-table they sit discussing what ought to be done. Mind gravitates to mind, and ignites a spark of the right sort; it is uttered, but some one or something quenches the spark as soon as it flashes, and the goodly purpose goes astray. They propose a number of schemes wide apart from the simple suggestions that I have furnished them with, and each project as soon as it is born is frustrated by some untoward event soon after. Though they all are undoubtedly animated by the purest motives, and remain to the end unquestionably loyal--throughout every act they are doing themselves irreparable injury, and unconsciously weighing their friends of the advance column down to the verge of despair with anxieties. The following is Mr. Herbert Ward's report, which in justice I feel bound to publish:-- "Windsor Hotel, "New York City, "_Feb. 13th, 1890_. "On August 14th, 1887, Troup, Bonny, and myself, with the men and loads, arrived at Yambuya from Bolobo. We found that since your departure on June 28th, 1887, nothing had been heard of Tippu-Tib, and that the Major and Jameson had occupied their time in obtaining firewood for the steamer. On the following afternoon after our arrival, a band of Manyuema attacked the temporary village that the Chief Ngunga had built on the opposite side of the river, just below the rapids. Bonny and I crossed in a canoe to discover who they were, but apparently as soon as they saw the steamer lying alongside our camp, they cleared off into the forest, and returned to their own camp, which the natives told us was but a few hours' journey up the river. The next day the head man of the Manyuemas, named Abdallah, came to us with a few followers, and gave an account of how Tippu-Tib, true to his word, had sent about 500 men to us in canoes under Salim bin Mohammed, but that they had encountered much hostility from the natives, and after paddling against the stream for several days, and finding no indication of our camp they disbanded, and Salim sent small bands of Manyuemas in different directions to try and discover our whereabouts, and Abdallah represented himself as being the headman of one of the parties sent in search of our camp. Another version of the story to account for the 500 men disbanding when on their way up the Aruwimi, was that their ammunition had given out, and the natives proved too strong for them. Abdallah stated that Tippu-Tib was quite willing to supply the men, and that as Stanley Falls was only a few days' journey, we could easily go ourselves and see Tippu-Tib, and that he himself would be ready the next day to accompany us and act as guide. "The Major instructed Jameson and myself to proceed to the Falls. We were there told the same story again, of how Tippu-Tib had sent a large number of men to us, but that they had disbanded on the Aruwimi River on account of their being unable to pass some populous village, where the natives had attacked and driven them back, as they were short of gunpowder. Tippu-Tib professed his willingness to supply the men, but said that it would require some time to collect them together again. "As there were upwards of 600 valuable loads stored in Yambuya Camp, and only a sufficient number of able-bodied men to carry 175, we all considered it better to guard the loads in the camp where there was abundance of food for the men, until the arrival of Tippu-Tib's promised aid than to discard a portion of the loads and to make triple marches; for we were all convinced from evidence we had of men even deserting from the camp, that after the first few days' marching most of our men would desert and join the Arab band of Waswahili and Manyuema raiders, who, we found, were traversing the country in all directions, and whose free, unrestrained manner of living rendered our men dissatisfied with their lot, and tempted them to desert us and accompany their compatriots. The Major, our chief, personally disliked the Zanzibaris, and lacked the proper influence over them. "Tippu-Tib continued to procrastinate, and in the meantime a large number of our Zanzibaris, many of whom, however, from the first were organically diseased and poorly, sickened and died. They were always employed, and the cause of their death cannot be attributed to inaction. Being fatalists, they resigned themselves without an effort, for the _Bwana Makubwa_, with their comrades, had gone into the dark forests, and they all verily believed had perished. They themselves, when they found that upon no consideration would there ever be a chance of returning to their own country except by the deadly forest route, looked upon the situation as hopeless, gave way, and died. "We expected you to return to Yambuya about the end of November; but time passed away and we received no news from you. We were unable to make triple marches owing to the sad condition of our people. Every means was tried to urge Tippu-Tib to produce the men, but without avail. "In February, 1888, the Major and Jameson went again to the Falls, and on the 24th March the Major returned to Yambuya. He stated that he had guaranteed the payment of a large sum of money to Tippu-Tib if he would produce the men, that Jameson had gone to Kasongo to hurry them up, and that he considered that the Committee should be informed of the state of affairs; firstly, that no news whatever had been received from you since your departure, nine months before; secondly, that Tippu-Tib's aid was not forthcoming, that we were still in Yambuya unable to march. No steamers had visited the camp since the arrival of the last contingent. "It appeared to us that evidently circumstances had prevented you from communicating with us after your departure, and that news about your movements might have reached the east coast. "As it appeared possible to reach Loanda and communicate by cable with the Committee and return to Yambuya by the time Jameson was expected from Kasongo, the Major instructed me to convey and despatch a cablegram which he himself worded and signed. I accomplished the journey in thirty days, and immediately upon receiving their reply (the clause "we refer you to Mr. Stanley's instructions of June 24th," was precisely what both Troup and I expected before my departure), I hastened back as far as Bangala, where I was instructed to remain by the Major until I received further news from the Committee, to whom he had written, that he had no further use for my services or the loads he had sent down in _Le Stanley_. "Five weeks after my arrival at Bangala, news came down by the _En Avant_ that the Major had been assassinated. Jameson, who was at the Falls seeing to the punishment of the murderer and reorganisation of the Manyuema contingent, wrote and urged me to stay at Bangala. Having descended from the Falls in canoes, he was in the last stage of bilious fever. Despite every care and attention, he died the following day. He came down to Bangala to learn the Committee's reply to the Major's cable, and to take back the Bangala loads and myself in the steamer that the State officer at the Falls had assured him would be at Bangala on its way up to the Falls just about the time he would arrive. This information about the steamer was false, and on the first day of his journey down in the canoes he caught a fatal chill, which resulted in his death from bilious fever. There being no possible chance of my joining Bonny, as no steamer was to again visit the Falls for some months, I went to the coast to acquaint the Committee with the fact of Jameson's death, and the position of affairs as I learnt them from Jameson before his death. They cabled an order for me to return to the Falls, and hand over the remaining stores to the State Station there, and to bring down Bonny and the men for shipment. Upon reaching Stanley Pool I found that news had just been received of your arrival at Banalya and return to Emin Pasha. I continued my journey, however, to the Falls, and took up with me all the loads that the Major had sent down to Bangala. I remained one month at the Falls anxiously hoping for further news of you. "After collecting all that remained of the sick men whom the Major handed over to Tippu-Tib, I descended the Congo again in canoes and returned to Europe according to the cabled instructions of the Committee. "The above is a simple and truthful statement of facts relating to the failure of the rear guard. "No one can feel more bitterly disappointed at the unfortunate condition of affairs than myself. I regret most sincerely that my services were so profitless. "I remain, "Always yours faithfully, (Signed) "Herbert Ward. "Henry M. Stanley, Esq." Mr. Ward informed me that he had discovered my eight boxes of reserve clothing and Expedition necessaries at Bangala; that he took them with him to Stanley Falls--500 miles above Bangala--and then brought them down to Banana Point on the sea-coast, where he left them. No person knows--though diligent enquiry has been made--what has become of them. APPENDIX. Major Barttelot's Last Report of events at Yambuya:-- Yambuya Camp, _June 4, 1888_. Sir,--I have the honour to report to yon that we are about to make a move, though with far less numbers than I originally intended. Tippu-Tib has at last, but with great reluctance, given us 400 men. I have also obtained from another Arab called Muini Somai thirty more carriers; we shall move not earlier than the 9th of June, and our forces will be as follows:--Soudanese 22, rifles 22; Zanzibaris 110, rifles 110, loads 90; Manyuema 430, muskets 300, loads 380. The officers who are going are Major Barttelot, in command; Mr. J. S. Jameson, second in command; Mr. W. Bonny; Sheik Muiui Somai in command of Manyuema force. Sheik Muini Somai is an Arab of Kibongé, who volunteered to accompany the Expedition as commander under me of the native contingent. On May 8, the Belgian steamer _A. I. A._, with M. van Kerkhoven, the chief of Bangala, arrived here, having on board Mr. Ward's escort of thirty Zanzibaris and four Soudanese, one Soudanese dying at Bangala. _May 11th._-- They left us to go to Stanley Falls. _May 14th._--I left for Stanley Falls, going overland and catching the steamer at Yallasula, on the Congo. I proceeded with the Belgians to the Falls on May 22. Mr. Jameson and Tippu-Tib, with 400 men, returned from Kasongo. Mr. Jameson wrote to you while at Kasongo of his proceedings there. He told me on arrival that Tippu-Tib had promised him 800 men, but would make no written agreement with him. _May 23rd._--I had my palaver with Tippu-Tib; he then told me he could only let me have 400 men, 300 of whom were to carry 40-lb. loads, and 100 20-lb. loads. He said the men were present, and ready to start as soon as I had my loads ready. I told him of what he had promised Mr. Jameson at Kasongo, but he said never had any mention of 800 men been made, only of the 400. That it was quite impossible he could give us more men, as he was short of men at Kasongo and Nyangwé, as he was at present engaged in so many wars that he had completely drained the country. I was forced to submit, but hoped that he might be able to collect another 100 or so at and around Yambuya. Tippu then asked me if I wanted a headman, stating that in the former agreement Mr. Stanley had said that if a headman was taken he should be paid. I replied, Certainly I want a headman. He then presented me to the Arab, Muini Somai. This man agreed to come, and I send you the terms I settled with him. I got back to Camp Yambuya May 30. _June 4th._--The _Stanley_ steamer arrived, and the _A. I. A._, the former bringing Belgian officers for the Falls Station, the latter Tippu-Tib himself. _June 5th._--I had another palaver with Tippu-Tib, asking him where were the 250 men already sent; he explained to me that they had been dispersed, and on trying to collect them they refused to come, owing to the bad reports brought in by the deserters, and that as they were subjects and not slaves he could not force them. That was the reason why he had brought 400 entirely fresh men from Kasongo for us. However, Tippu said he could let me have thirty more men of Muini Somai. This, as I was so terribly short of men, I agreed to. Muini Somai himself appears a willing man, and very anxious to do his best. He volunteered for the business. I trust you will not think his payment excessive, but the anxiety it takes away as regards his men and the safety of the loads is enormous, for he is responsible for the Manyuema and the loads they carry, and thus saves the white officers an amount of work and responsibility which they can now devote to other purposes. The loads we do not take are to be sent to Bangala. They will be loaded up in the _A. I. A._, or _Stanley_, on June 8, a receipt being given for them by Mr. Van Kerkhoven, which is marked B and forwarded to you, also a letter of instruction to him and to Mr. Ward. Perhaps you would kindly give the requisite order concerning the loads and the two canoes purchased in March for Mr. Ward's transport, also for those stores purchased by Mr. Ward on behalf of the Expedition, as it is nearly certain I shall not return this way, and shall therefore have no further need of them or him. Mr. Troup, who is in a terrible condition of debility and internal disarrangement, is proceeding home at his own request. Mr. Bonny's certificate of his unfitness is attached, and his application marked E, also letters concerning passage, &c., to M. Fontaine, marked F. I have given him a passage home at the expense of the Expedition, as I am sure it would be your and their wish. The interpreter, Assad Farran, I am also sending home. He has been, and is, utterly useless to me, and is in failing health; and if I took him with me I would only, after a few marches, have either to carry or leave him, and I am terribly short of carriers. So I have ventured to send him home with a steerage passage to Cairo, and have sent a letter to the Consul-General, Cairo, concerning him; also copy of agreement made by Assad Farran with me on his proceeding home; also papers of interpreter, Alexander Hadad, who died June 24, 1887, both marked G. These two interpreters made no sort of agreement concerning pay, terms of service, &c., when they agreed to come on this Expedition in February, 1887, so perhaps you would kindly inform the proper authorities on that subject. With British troops in Egypt, as interpreters, they would have received not more than £6 a month and their rations, for as interpreters they were both very inferior. A Soudanese soldier with a diseased leg is also proceeding down country. Besides these there are four other Soudanese and twenty-nine Zanzibaris who are unable to proceed with us. Tippu-Tib has kindly consented to get these to Zanzibar as best he can. A complete list of them, their payments, &c., will be forwarded to the Consul at Zanzibar, and I have requested him to forward on the Soudanese to Egypt. My intentions on leaving this camp are to make the best of my way along the same route taken by Mr. Stanley; should I get no tidings of him along the road, to proceed as far as Kavalli, and then if I hear nothing there to proceed to Kibero. If I can ascertain either at Kavalli or Kibero his whereabouts, no matter how far it may be, I will endeavour to reach him. Should he be in a fix I will do my utmost to relieve him. If neither at Kavalli nor Kibero I can obtain tidings of him, I shall go on to Wadelai and ascertain from Emin Pasha, if he be there still, if he has any news of Mr. Stanley, also of his own intentions as regards staying or leaving. I will persuade him, if possible, to come out with me, and, if necessary, aid me in my search for Mr. Stanley. Should it for sundry reasons be unnecessary to look further for Mr. Stanley, I will place myself and force at his disposal to act as his escort, proceeding by whichever route is most feasible, so long as it is not through Uganda, as in that event the Manyuemas would leave me, as I have promised Tippu-Tib they shall not go there, and that I will bring them back or send a white officer with them back to their own country by the shortest and quickest route on completion of my object. This is always supposing Emin Pasha to be there and willing to come away. It may be he only needs ammunition to get away by himself, in which case I would in all probability be able to supply him, and would send three-fourths of my Zanzibar force and my two officers with him, and would myself, with the other Zanzibaris, accompany the Manyuemas back to the Tippu-Tib's country, and so to the coast, by the shortest route--viz., by the Muta-Nzigé, Tanganika and Ujiji. This is also the route I should take should we be unable to find Stanley, or, from the reasons either that he is not there or does not wish to come, relieve Emin Pasha. I need not tell you that all our endeavours will be most strenuous to make the quest in which we are going a success, and I hope that my actions may meet with the approval of the committee, and that they will suspend all judgment concerning those actions, either in the present, past, or future, till I or Mr. Jameson return home. Rumour is always rife, and is seldom correct, concerning Mr. Stanley. I can hear no news whatever, though my labours in that direction have been most strenuous. He is not dead, to the best of my belief, nor of the Arabs here or at Kasongo. I have been obliged to open Mr. Stanley's boxes, as I cannot carry all his stuff, and I had no other means of ascertaining what was in them. Two cases of Madeira were also sent him. One case I am sending back, the other has been half given to Mr. Troup, the other half we take as medical comforts. Concerning Tippu-Tib I have nothing to say beyond that he has broken faith with us, and can only conjecture from surrounding events and circumstances the cause of his unreasonable delay in supplying men, and the paucity of that supply. I deem it my bounden duty to proceed on this business, in which I am fully upheld by both Mr. Jameson and Mr. Bonny; to wait longer would be both useless and culpable, as Tippu-Tib has not the remotest intention of helping us any more, and to withdraw would be pusillanimous, and, I am certain, entirely contrary to your wishes and those of the committee. I calculate it will take me from three to four months to reach the lakes, and from seven to nine more to reach the coast. Should you think and the committee agree that the sum is excessive to give Muini Somai and are not prepared to meet it, or may be, are prepared to place only a portion of that at my disposal for that purpose, both Mr. Jameson and I are fully prepared to meet it or the remaining portion of it, as it is entirely for our benefit he is coming; though of course it must be remembered that our object is to reach our destination with as many of our loads as possible, and that our individual hold over the Manyuema without outside aid would be _nil._ Should you agree to place the sum at my disposal, please arrange accordingly; if only a portion, that portion, for he has received an advance in powder, cloth, beads, and cowries to the value of £128. In case of not meeting it or only a portion of it, please inform Sir Walter Barttelot, Carlton Club. I insert this as it is most necessary the money should be there when wanted, as Arabs and Orientals are most punctilious on pecuniary transactions. I have much pleasure in stating that from all the officers of the State with whom I have come in contact or from whom I have solicited aid, I have met with a most willing and ready response, which is highly gratifying. I would particularly mention Captain Van Kerkhoven, Chief of Bangala, and Lieutenant Liebrechts, Chief of Stanley Pool, and I trust that they may meet with the reward and merit they deserve. _June 6th._--This morning Tippu-Tib sent for me and asked me if I thought he would get his money for the men. I told him I could give no assurance of that. He then said he must have a guarantee, which I and Mr. Jameson have given; terms of agreement and guarantee are attached. All receipts, agreements, &c., made between Arabs and myself and signed by them I have sent to Mr. Holmwood, and the copies to you. _June 8th._--This morning I had the loads for Tippu-Tib's and Muini Somai's men stacked, and Tippu-Tib himself came down to see them prior to issuing. However, he took exception to the loads, said they were too heavy (the heaviest was 45 lbs.), and his men could not carry them. Two days before he had expressed his approbation of the weight of the very same loads he refused to-day. I pointed out to him that he as well as I knew the difficulty of getting any load other than a bale, to scale the exact weight, and that the loads his men carried were far above the prescribed weight of 60 lbs. We were to have started to-morrow, so we shall not now start till the 11th or 12th of June, as I am going to make all his loads weigh exactly 40 lbs. It is partly our fault, as we should have been more particular to get the exact weight. The average weight over due was about 2 lbs., some loads being 2 lbs. under. But it is not the weight of the loads he takes exception to--in reality it is having to perform the business at all. He has been almost forced to it by letters received from Mr. Holmwood against his own and more than against the wish of his fellow Arabs, and, filled with aspirations and ambitions of a very large nature, the whole business has become thoroughly distasteful to him, which his professed friendship for Stanley cannot even overcome. His treatment of us this morning showed that most thoroughly. But should he not act up to his contract I hope it will be taken most serious notice of when it comes to the day of settling up. He has got us tight fixed at present, but it should not always be so. On our road lie many Arab settlements to within a month of Lake Albert Nyanza, though the distance between some of them is bad, and the inhabitants of that distance warlike. I shall, whenever opportunity offers, hire carriers, if not for the whole time at any rate from station to station, for of course death, sickness, and desertions must be looked for, and I must get my loads in as intact as possible to my destination. This is when Muini Somai will be so useful. We seem to have paid a big price for his services, but then he is a big Arab, and in proportion to his bigness is his influence over the Manyuema to keep them together, to stop desertions, thefts, &c. A lesser Arab would have been cheaper, but his influence would have been less, and in consequence our loads gradually less, and loads mean health and life and success, and therefore cannot be estimated at too high a value. We are carrying light loads, and intend to do at first very easy marches, and when I get into the open country by Uganda to push on. We weighed all our loads before one of Tippu-Tib's headmen, and he passed loads which had been condemned shortly before in the morning, which fully shows that for some reason or other he wishes to delay us here, but for what purpose I cannot say. _June 9th._--We shall easily be able to start by the 11th, but I am sorry to say our loss of ammunition by the lightening of the loads--for it was the ammunition they particularly took notice of--is something enormous. Both the _A. I. A._ and the _Stanley_ left this morning for Stanley Falls, but Tippu-Tib and his Belgian secretary remain behind; also four ships' carpenters, whom Captain Vangele and M. van Kerkhoven left with us to help us. The Belgians have behaved with very great kindness to us, and helped us on our way enormously. Before I close I would wish to add that the services of Mr. J. S. Jameson have been, are, and will be invaluable to me. Never during his period of service with me have I had one word of complaint from him. His alacrity, capacity, and willingness to work are unbounded, while his cheeriness and kindly disposition have endeared him to all. I have given Ward orders about any telegram you may send, and Tippu-Tib has promised he will send a messenger after me should it be necessary, provided I have not started more than a month. Tippu-Tib waits here to see me off. I am sending a telegram to you to announce our departure, and I will endeavour through the State to send you news whenever I can; but it would not surprise me if the Congo route was not blocked later on. I have not sent you a copy of Mr. Holmwood's letter, as it was not official, but of all others I have. I think I told you of everything of which I can write. There are many things I would wish to speak of, and no doubt I will do so should I be permitted to return home. Our ammunition, Remington, is as follows:--Rifles, 128; reserve rounds, per rifle, 279; rounds with rifle, 20 = 35,580. _June 10th._--The loads have been weighed and handed over; powder and caps issued to the Manyuema force, and we are all ready to start, which we shall do to-morrow morning. I have told you of all now I can think of, but I would bring finally to your notice that Tippu-Tib has broken his faith and contract with us. The man Muini Somai I think means business, and therefore I trust all will be well. I have, &c., Edmund M. Barttelot, _Major_. _To_ Mr. William MacKinnon, _President of the Emin Pasha Relief Committee_. COPY OF LOG OF REAR COLUMN. Note.--This "Log" may not appear to be very lively reading at first, but it presently deepens in interest, and will repay perusal to the reader who has shared in our anxieties respecting the fate of the rear column. H. M. S. _June 11th, 1888._--Left Yambuya at 7 A.M. Slight excitement prevailed at first, firing off guns, &c., but this was soon checked. The Zanzibar Company went ahead, Mr. Jameson in advance, Mr. Bonny in the centre, Major Barttelot in rear. The Manyuema contingent under Muini Somai started later, but soon caught up the Zanzibar Company; the rear reached camp at the Batuka village called Sudi at noon. One sick man was left behind on the road, but he found his way to camp later on. All loads correct. The rear column left Yambuya with strength as follows:-- Major Edmund M. Barttelot, _Commanding_. Mr. James S. Jameson, _Second in Command_. Mr. William Bonny, _Command of Zanzibar Co_. Zanzibar Company 108 men. " Boys 7 Soudanese soldiers 22 Somali 1 Manyuema carriers 430 --- Total 568 Distance travelled about five miles. Road fair, through jungle and plantations, the best roadways being the streams. General direction S.E. (Signed) E. M. B. _June 23rd._--Halted in camp to await arrival of search party, who returned at 3 P.M., having done nothing. Major Barttelot went to explore road, following it for five miles to the N.E. Major Barttelot's boy Soudi deserted with his revolver, belt and 85 rounds of ammunition, owing to Major Barttelot's thrashing him, though doubtless he was put up to it. In consequence all rifles taken from Zanzibaris. Major Barttelot will proceed to-morrow to Stanley Falls to see Tippu-Tib concerning deserters, and if possible to obtain fresh men from him to get back loads and rifles. He will send a note to Mr. Jameson to come here and bring as many Manyuema as he can to take ammunition and rifles and escort Zanzibari to Abdulla Karoni's (Banalya), where they will await Major Barttelot's arrival. Major Barttelot and Mr. Bonny both thinking this the most feasible plan, as if the desertions last much longer, there will not be a load left. Kindness has been shown in every way to the Zanzibaris throughout, and the marches have been uniformly short. Weather fine, shower in the evening. E. M. B. _June 24th._--Major Barttelot, with fourteen Zanzibaris and three Soudanese and boys, left here this morning for Stanley Falls. Kuchu, a Zanzibari, who, when ordered to accompany the Major, ran away, came in at 8 a.m. He was tied up and kept in the guard-room. _Copy of orders to Mr. Bonny, June 23rd,1888._ I. Take over charge of the camp, remaining till Mr. Jameson's arrival. II. To have special care of all Zanzibari rifles and ammunition. III. When move is made, to see that all loads, such as ammunition, are under Soudanese escort. IV. Any attempt at mutiny to be punished with death. V. To try to obtain information of whereabouts. VI. To hand over command to Mr. Jameson when he arrives, and not to proceed further than Abdulla Kihamira's (Banalya). Edmund M. Barttelot. You will retain command of the Zanzibaris as before. A case of small-pox I ordered to be removed some distance off from the camp. Weather fine. Wm. Bonny, _Commanding (_pro tem._). _Note from Mr. Jameson._ "My dear Bonny,--I have just arrived here. I suppose it is Nassur bin Saifi, and have met Kuchu and soldiers with slaves. They told me that the Major is gone to Stanley Falls four days ago. I don't know how he could have missed us. Have captured sixteen guns and two men, but only part of two loads. No medicine. I will come to your camp to-morrow as early as I can. Yours &c. "J. S. Jameson." Wm. Bonny, _Commg_. _July 2nd._--Got away at 7 A.M., and marched till noon. Camping in a village named Mkwagodi, tribe Baburu, general direction N.E., distance about eight miles. Road bad, running through many swamps and old plantations. No desertions on road, or in camp last night. Found some of Tippu-Tib's people here, who say they will carry a letter to Stanley Falls. They knew a road to the Congo which can be traversed in four days' march. The Aruwimi R. distant from this camp about three hours. Tippu-Tib's men state that Abdallah Kihamira's station (Banalya) is but three days' march from here, and that the blazing of trees on his road beyond that place is still visible. Weather fine. J. S. J. 6 P.M.--Mr. Bonny reports non-arrival of two Zanzibaris. Each possessed a rifle, and one was loaded with loose ammunition. _July 3rd._--Returned to Ujeli Camp for extra loads, and arrived at 1 P.M. Muini Sumai reported arrivals of letters, stating that the whole force was to return to Stanley Falls. Received two letters from Major Barttelot, dated June 25th, to the effect that we were to proceed with all despatch to Banalya. Muini Sumai told me he had received the news in a letter from Sala Sala, conveyed by some messenger, and that on receipt of it he had sent to stop the men and loads _en route_ here from Nassur bin Saifi village. I replied that the Major's orders were still to proceed to Banalya. He sent messengers at once to tell the people behind to come on. He reports many cases of small-pox and ether diseases, about sixty men unfit for work, that seven of his men have deserted. Met the two men reported missing last night. Both were sick and had slept at a village close by. Weather fine. J. S. J. _July 4th._--Told Muini Sumai that my last orders to him were to get the whole of his force together at once, and come on to my camp with all speed. He promised to leave following day. Rain came down in torrents shortly after leaving, but pushed on and reached Mpungu about noon, when it cleared up for a fine day. Heavy rain until noon. Double loads borne remarkably well. J. S. J. _July 5th._--Reached Mkwagodi, Mr. Bonny's camp, about noon. Swamps very bad after rain. He reports all quiet during my absence. One Zanzibari had died. My letters to Stanley Falls left about 9 A.M. of the 3rd. Tippu-Tib's people had brought a few fowls for sale. Weather fine. J. S. J. _July 6th._--Sent Mr. Bonny on to next village, which I hear is a large one, and quite an easy march from here, with orders to send back Soudanese escort and carriers to carry extra loads to-morrow. This is a very small village with not sufficient accommodation for our force, so determined to await his arrival at the next. Men returned from Mr. Bonny about 2 P.M. J. S. J. _July 7th._--Moved up with all extra loads to Sipula, about fifteen miles. Road a bad one, much fallen timber, and manioc very thick. Bonny reported Zanzibari bearer of our chop-box as lagging behind yesterday, and breaking open his box. Was caught red-handed in the act. One tin of corn-beef and one tin of milk were missing, also a broached tin of cocoa still in box. Man volunteered to show where these were. Sent him back with Soudanese, who returned with both tins opened. Dr. Parke's box, whilst being carried here yesterday, fell and burst open; damaged beyond repair. The clothing I packed in Messrs. Stairs' and Nelson's bags, which were underweight; the shot and cartridge cases were discarded, being short of carriers. Collected all the cartridges carried by the Zanzibari, and will have them carried as loads, as I mean to send Mr. Bonny on to Banalya. The road is a perfectly safe one, and food all the way. The small-pox is rife amongst the Manyuema, and I wish to prevent it from spreading among our people. Banalya is four easy marches from here, and Mr. Bonny will have guides to show the road. Have sent to Muini Sumai to join me to-morrow here. Weather fine. J. S. J. _July 8th._--Mr. Bonny left here for Banalya. Muini Sumai with nearly all the Manyuema arrived here. Muini Sumai tells me that he has received a second letter from Sala saying that the whole force is to return to Stanley Falls. Upon further inquiry I find that the way Sala got the news was the following. Men of Salim Mohamed's returning from Stanley Falls after the steamer had arrived at Yambuya spread this report among the people, who communicated the same to Sala's people. J. S. J. _July 9th._--Last night, as if at a given signal, nearly every man in the camp began to fire off his gun; several of the shots were fired beside my tent. I jumped out of bed, sent for Muini Sumai, got my rifle, and told him before every one that I would shoot the very next man that fired close to my tent. There were no more shots. About noon to-day several of Bonny's men came into camp telling me he had lost the road. Started out to Bonny's camp. Met messenger with a note from him on road. He tells me the guides yesterday took him all wrong and then ran away. He afterwards got too far N., sighting the Aruwimi. He is camped at a village about half-an-hour from here. Went with him along road, and found a well blazed one going to the eastward which he had missed. Got back to his camp at dusk. Weather fair. Mr. Bonny reports a goat missing. J. S. J. _July 10th._--Started shortly after daylight and joined Mr. Bonny. Went ahead on road, general direction S.E. which I found he had followed the day before. Had just determined to go to where he had camped when Arabs from Banalya arrived. The head man told me that he had brought the percussion-caps from Stanley Falls to Banalya, and also four letters. He handed over to me three deserters from Mr. Stanley's force, Musa Wadi Kombo, Rehani Wadi Mabruki and Jumah Wadi Chandi. (Note from Mr. Stanley: these three men deserted from the advance on or about Aug. 28th., just half way between Yambuya and Albert Nyanza.) They all declare that they did not desert from him, but were left sick on the road. They say they belong to Captain Stairs' Company. I got them to guide us to the right road, and they took us to the very village where Mr. Bonny and his men slept the day before yesterday, close to the Aruwimi, and from which point he had turned back. He camped there again to-day and goes on to-morrow morning. Abdulla Kihamira handed me the 40,000 percussion-caps for which Tippu-Tib is to be paid £48. Weather fine. J. S. J. _July 11th._--Muini Sumai informed me to-day that he could not leave for Banalya until the day after to-morrow. I warned him that every day lost on the road would be a day less at Banalya, as Major Barttelot would expect us to be ready to start on his arrival. He has not the slightest power over the other headmen. Heavy and continuous rain in afternoon. J. S. J. _July 11th._--Muini Sumai requested percussion-caps to be distributed among his men. Told him to address himself to Major Barttelot on the latter's arrival. He made another excuse for not starting to-morrow, as he did not like leaving the white man behind. I told him that was my business not theirs, and that every man and load must leave this place to-morrow. Weather cloudy, but fine. J. S. J. _July 13th._--Muini Sumai and Manyuema left to-day for Banalya. One sick chief going on slowly with men. Several dying of small-pox left in village. Stench around village frightful, but all villages near here are in a similar condition. Weather fine. J. S. J. _July 14th._--Sent for Tippu-Tib's men from Mampuya, and told them we would remain here some days. They have no news of Major Barttelot's being on the road. Heavy rain all afternoon. J. S. J. _July 15th._--Still at Sipula awaiting return of men from Banalya. J. S. J. _July 16th._--Tippu-Tib's people came from Mampuya with plantains for sale. Purchased some for the sick. Cannot understand the non-arrival of men from Banalya. J. S. J. _July 17th._--Nyombi, Tippu-Tib's head man at Mampuya, came into camp to-day. Reports return of the men who took letters to Stanley Falls. Had seen Major Barttelot, who has gone by a short road to Banalya. Said he would be there to-day. Still no signs of the men from Banalya to carry the extra loads. They are now a full two days over date. Weather fine. J. S. J. _July 18th_.--Between 3 and 4 P.M. the men from Banalya arrived. Told them to collect plantains and manioc at once, as we should march to-morrow. Much grumbling. The following received from Mr. Bonny: "Abdullah's Camp (Banalya), _July 15th, 1888_. "My dear Jameson,--I arrived here about 10 A.M. this day. The Zanzibaris did not know the road well, and I had to keep to the front nearly the whole distance. When you arrive at my first camp on the river bank you had better get three days' manioc--you will not find any for three days. The Soudanese in charge of the Zanzibari prisoner let him escape on my second day's march. You may see this escaped prisoner. (Here follows list.) Twenty-three men have deserted. The Manyuema who came with us left us on the wrong road early on second day; they had blocked the right road in several places. I did not see any native on the road, although I am certain they look after people left behind. On my four-days' march Feraji Wadi Zaid ran away, leaving his load on the road. I hear Selangi, who was sick, is also absent; loads correct. "Yours, etc., "William Bonny." Weather fine. J. S. J. _July 19th._--Started about 7 A.M. and marched to Mr. Bonny's first camp. Aruwimi R. distance between five and six miles, general direction north-east. Passed through five villages and over two streams. Road generally good, through old manioc plantations broken up with patches of forest. Halted to let men collect manioc. Threatening thunder, but fine. J. S. J. _July 20th._--Left camp a little before 7 A.M. and reached Mr. Bonny's camp on the bank of the Aruwimi R. 11 o'clock. Distance between five and six miles. General direction E. Road a bad one, lying along the bank of the river and crossing all the deep cuttings with muddy inlets to them. Latter part of march through old sites of very large villages. The natives were all living on opposite bank. Very large plantations of manioc and plantain. Weather fine. J. S. J. _July 21st._--When nearly ready to start this morning a heavy shower of rain fell, and I kept the tent standing; it cleared, however, shortly, and we made a start, when it began to pour again and rained steadily until we reached Mr. Bonny's first camp in forest, when we halted. When about a mile from the camp we were met by messengers from Mr. Bonny, who handed me a letter, and whilst opening it overheard some of the men saying that Major Barttelot was dead. This was only too true, for my letter contained the sad news that he was shot dead early on the morning of the 19th at Banalya, and further that Muini Sumai and all the Manyuema had left. Mr. Benny's letter follows:-- "_19th July, 1888._ "My dear Jameson,--Major Barttelot shot dead early this morning; Manyuema, Muini Sumai and Abdullah Kihamira all gone. I have written to Tippu-Tib through Mons. Baert. "Push on. "Yours, "Bonny." J. S. J. _July 22nd._--After seeing all loads ready to start, got away about an hour after daybreak and reached Banalya an hour before sunset--a long march over one of the worst roads in this country. On arrival found all quiet, and that Mr. Bonny had done all that could be done under the circumstances. He had recovered about 300 of the loads carried by the Manyuema, and had succeeded in quieting those who had remained near camp. Muini Sumai halted on the morning of the 19th instant without a word to any one, and has gone to Stanley Falls. The other head men under him, with the exception of two or three who are camped outside this village, are camped in the bush some distance away. Major Barttelot was buried on the 19th. A full account of the circumstances of his death is given by Mr. Bonny later on. J. S. J. _July 23rd._--Made an inventory of the effects of Major Barttelot, and packed all things considered necessary to send home, a full account of everything being sent to Sir Walter Barttelot. Offered a reward for the arrest of the man who shot Major Barttelot. J. S. J. _July 24th._--Made a complete list of all loads recovered; the majority of the Manyuema head men came into camp, and from them gathered the following information:-- There are 193 Manyuema carriers still camped in this vicinity; Muini Sumai, six head men, and Sanga, the man who shot Major Barttelot, are all at Stanley Falls. On my march to Stanley Falls I will meet more of the head men, who will give information about their loads and men. I then told them I was going to Stanley Falls to-morrow, to see Tippu-Tib, and try to make such arrangements with him as would admit of our still continuing the Expedition; would not remain away long, and when returned would let them know whether it would be an advance or otherwise. Told them I wished them to remain quietly in whatever camp they chose in the neighbourhood, but not in this village, so that there would be no chance of further trouble until my return. They said they were perfectly willing to do this. We have recovered 298-1/2 loads, and are now 47-1/2 loads short. Letters handed by me to Major Barttelot before our departure from Yambuya. Two loads of the Expedition found missing. Believed them to have been lost on the way, which one of his men (Hamed bin Daoud) ran away with on his return from Stanley Falls. J. S. J. _Mr. Bonny's Log._ _July 11th._--I struck camp early, and started along the bank of Aruwimi. I soon found out why I had not taken this road. Every village has been burnt down, and everything destroyed. Elephants are very numerous here. New roads have been made, the old ones destroyed; but after an hour's march I came on Mr. Stanley's road. Wm. Bonny, _Commanding Advance Party_. _July 12th._--Made a long march, taking three days' manioc to enable me to pass through the forest. The Arabs who joined with the Zanzibaris deserted after leading us an hour on the wrong road, and, blocking up the right ones in several places, ran away. I found right road, and continued my march until mid-day. Camped in forest. Wm. Bonny, _Commanding Advance Party_. _July 15th._--I arrived at Banalya at about 10 A.M., after a march of four days and four hours from where I last saw Mr. Jameson. Nothing worth noting occurred on the 13th and 14th instant. Abdullah, the head man of this village, treating me very kindly, giving me a large house, rice, fish, and bananas. Camp quiet. Wm. Bonny, _Commanding Advance Party_. _July 16th._--Some of Muini Sumai's Manyuema came in to-day. Wm. Bonny, _Commanding Advance Party_. The dates 17th, 18th, and 19th have been already published in Chapter XX.--"The Sad Story of the Rear Column." H. M. S. _July 20th._--Sent out to headmen to try and get more loads. I find I am short of the following loads, viz., 8 bags beads, 3-3/4 brass wire, 10 sacks of hkfs., 9 bales Zanzibar cloth, 5 loads of powder, 10 sacks rice, 1 sack cowries; total 47 loads. I discovered that the man who shot the Major is named Sanga, and is a headman charged with the care of ten loads. He has fled to Stanley Falls with Muini Sumai. William Bonny, _Commanding_. _July 22nd._--It has been raining now thirty-six hours. Mr. Jameson arrived to-day. Camp quiet. William Bonny, _Commanding_. _July 25th._--Mr. Jameson left here for Stanley Falls, taking with him the late Major's effects. William Bonny, _Commanding_. _July 27th._--The Soudanese paraded to-day, without being asked, and said they wished to speak to me. They said--"We wish to fight the Manyuema; we are waiting for orders, and are ready to fight."... I think they are now ashamed of their conduct on the 19th instant in not following me when called upon. William Bonny, _Commanding_. Following from Mr. Jameson:-- "Camp in Forest, "_July 26th, 1888_. "My dear Bonny,--We have been doing good work, marching eight hours yesterday, and nine and a half hours to-day.... "Met Muini Sumai. He was on his way back to Banalya, having been pursuaded to return by other Arabs coming from Stanley Falls. "Muini Sumai told me that one of Sanga's women was beating the drum when the Major came up, and the Major went to the house saying 'Who is that?' Sanga says he thought that the Major was going to beat the woman as he had beaten the man the day before, and so fired at him. He is at Stanley Falls. "Yours, "J. S. Jameson." _August 1st._--I raided the Zanzibari houses to-day, which resulted in my getting ten pieces of cloth. William Bonny, _Commanding_. _August 2nd._--Empty Remington box found in forest. A Zanzibari was found in possession of forty-eight hkfs., being part of stores lost on 19th, William Bonny, _Commanding_. _August 6th._--The natives came last night and stole a canoe from our gate, and not two yards from a Soudanese sentry. I fined the three Soudanese sentries each £1 for neglect of duty. Wm. Bonny, _Commanding Advance Party_. _August 8th._-- About 10 P.M., hearing an unusual noise, I got up, and discovered that it proceeded from about 100 to 150 canoes knocking together. The natives were in force across the river, and I soon posted my men. The natives observing our movements returned up river. No shot was fired. I want to make friends with them. William Bonny, _Commanding_. _August 12th._--The Manyuema, through Chief Sadi, brought me a present of 15 lbs. of wild pig meat. I have had no meat since 25th July. William Bonny, _Commanding_. _August 14th._--I received a letter from Mr. Jameson, now at Stanley Falls, in which he states that my letter of the 19th July, 1888, was lost. It was addressed to Mons. Baert, Stanley Falls, announcing the death of Major Barttelot to Tippu-Tib, and enclosed one to Sir Walter Barttelot, Bart., M.P. Tippu-Tib has tried Muini Sumai, and finding him guilty, has torn up his contract. Muini Sumai has to return all rifles, &c. Mr. Ward is at Bangala with letters from the committee, which Jameson has ordered to be sent up. Tippu-Tib has agreed to hand over Sanga, the murderer of the Major, to Jameson for justice. The state officers claim that power, and will try him, as Banalya is within their territory. William Bonny, _Commanding_. _August 17th._--Mr. Stanley arrived here about 11 A.M. this morning in good health, but thin. He came by water with about thirty canoes, accompanied by about 200 followers. Some of whom are natives belonging to Emin Pasha. I briefly told Mr. Stanley the news, handed to him eleven letters addressed to himself, and four addressed to Emin Pasha. Rain. W. Bonny. _August 18th._--A Manyuema admits to Mr. Stanley that, he had two bales of Zanzibar cloth, and knew a man who had a bag of beads, taken from me on the 19th July. Mr. Stanley advised the head man to return the goods to me. Kimanga brought two half bales of Zanzibar cloth, being part of the stores looted on the 19th July. A receipt was given to him. I received a letter dated August 12th, Stanley Falls, from Mr. Jameson. Muini Sumai came in and saw Mr. Stanley. William Bonny. _August 19th._--Muini Sumai has now returned all rifles, revolvers, and ammunition, besides top of tent. William Bonny. _August 20th._--Soudanese and Zanzibaris paraded to-day of their own accord before Mr. Stanley, and complained to him that they had been badly treated. The following is from Mr. Jameson:-- "Stanley Falls, "_August 12, 1888_. "My dear Bonny,--The Expedition is at a very low ebb at present, as I think you will acknowledge. No headman will go in charge of Manyuema although I have done all in my power to get one. Tippu-Tib said he would go for £20,000 paid unconditionally, and said further that if he met with any really superior force, or saw his men threatened with any serious loss, he would return. It is not likely that the Committee would agree to this proposal. Secondly, he proposed for the same sum to take the loads _viâ_ Nyangwe and Tanganika to Kibero in Unyoro, guaranteeing first to pay for all loss of loads. Secondly, to deliver all loads at Kibero in Unyoro within six months of date of starting. Thirdly, after delivering loads at Kibero will look for Stanley. But if war between Unyoro and Uganda, could not guarantee delivery of loads at Kibero. I had a final interview with him last night. I told him that Mr. Stanley's very last orders were to follow the same road he had taken. Major Barttelot's intentions were, at the time of his death, to continue on that road. Major Barttelot wrote to Mr. Mackinnon to say he had started on that road. The reply of the Committee could not have been to go by another, or we would have received it. Emin Pasha's last statement was to the effect that if he were not soon relieved he would put himself at the head of his men and try and get out _viâ_ the Congo. That Emin Pasha had received the messages which Mr. Stanley sent from Zanzibar telling him his route would be by the Congo. That did he start, the Congo would without doubt be the route he would choose to come out. And that finally, in the face of all this, I could not go by a new route unless ordered to do so. Tippu-Tib then said, 'You are right.' I then told him that as regards our old route, he could not get me a headman over the Manyuema, no matter what I did to induce them. He said he would command them himself for £20,000, yet told me that if any serious loss was threatened to his men he would turn back. I replied, 'You will accept no less a sum than £20,000, and that unconditionally.' Many of the Manyuema openly avow their intention should I go without a headman from you, they will proceed a certain distance, and when they come to a good village, throw down our loads and begin ivory hunting. (This Tippu-Tib acknowledged.) Therefore, if I start from here without a headman it might be fatal to the whole expedition. "The only thing left for me to do now was to get a canoe, and go to Bangala at once. Read the Committee's reply, and if it was to the effect, go on at all hazards. Then I would take thirty or forty loads to be carried by the men Tippu-Tib is going to give me to replace those of Muini Sumai, bring Mr. Ward with me, as in case the Manyuemas chucked their loads, there would be one of us who might get back with the news, and bring no headman. I shall have plenty to do with the Manyuema. Return here at once in the _Stanley_ Steamer, which will be at Bangala immediately after I arrive there, and start at night away again. If the reply of the Committee would justify my stopping, knowing all I do, I would send Ward with a telegram at once to Banana by same canoes I go down in, return in the _Stanley_, go up to you, and all men and loads would be sent to Yarukombé on the Congo. Tippu-Tib guarantees that he will dismiss his men, and keep them close to the Aruwimi, and should the reply from the Committee be to still go on, on either route, he will have them all collected in a few days. There is no one to go down but me. Were I to wait the answer of the Committee here, then if we started at once I would have no loads to replace those lost at Banalya, and Ward could not come with us, and if I thought right to stop and send a telegram, a very serious delay would accrue in Ward's starting with it. "What I wish you to do now is to stop at Banalya until you hear from me, which ought to be in three weeks or a month. * * * * * "If we have to come down to Yarukombé, the thing will be to make Zanzibaris believe that we are going to Zanzibar, then there will not be many desertions. Tippu-Tib has found out the refuge of the deserters. It is at Yatuka, Said bin Habib's place. He has sent men to catch all who are there. Daoud was captured at Yambuya with the Major's sack of cloth with him. Pieces of our cloth are being brought here to Tippu-Tib from villages all over the country. "Yesterday Sanga (the murderer) was tried before Tippu-Tib and the Belgian Resident. He was found guilty, and shot immediately afterwards. * * * * * "My hopes sometimes have been raised to the highest pitch, and then thrown to the ground the next moment. When Tippu-Tib said he would go for £20,000, I told him I did not think the Committee would give it, but if he would give me certain guarantees I would pay half the sum myself as a subscription to the Expedition. But after what he had said no one would take him. * * * * * "You remember that in camp I had serious thought for reasons you know of not bringing Ward; but if we do start this time without any headman, it is most necessary that there should be three of us. I assure you that his coming will not in the least interfere with your command of the Zanzibaris. And now, old man, good-bye, and God bless you. "Very sincerely yours "James S. Jameson." * * * * * Copy of pencilled remarks and calculations made in presence of Major Barttelot, June 24th, 1887, when he demanded further light upon his duties, and regarding Tippu-Tib. Fourteen months after it had been handed to Major Barttelot it was restored to me by Mr. William Bonny. It was copied, and the document was returned to him. "Str. _Stanley_, let us assume, arrives here in August, Mr. Stanley hopes to be at Nyanza same date. He stops two weeks with Emin Pasha, say to 1st September. September and October to come back. "So you have got seventy-four days with 550 loads; you have 155 carriers, besides two garrisons of fifty men each, to occupy ends of your days' march. Going 6 miles per day. 155 loads }4 trips to make 6 6 " " 155 " }miles forward, 8 trips 6 " " 155 " }to make 1 day's journey 6 " " 155 " }for a caravan. "Therefore in seventy-four days you will have made nine marches forward nearer to us. "If Tippu-Tib sends 400 men with your 208 carriers you can march with all goods towards Muta Nzigé. Then I shall meet you thirteen days from Muta Nzigé." List of Stores landed at Yambuya Camp, August 14th, 1887, per s.s. _Stanley_ from Leopoldville:-- 100 cases gunpowder. 129 " Remington rifle cartridges. 10 " percussion caps. 7 " biscuits (ship). 2 " Madeira wine. 2 " Savelist. 114 bales cloth (assorted). 33 sacks beads. 13 " cowries. 20 " rice. 8 " salt. 1 " empty sacks. 26 loads of brass rods. 27 " brass and iron wire. 1 case tinware. ---- 493 ---- List of Stores left at Yambuya in charge of Major Barttelot June 28th. 1887:-- 2 boxes general and private baggage--Mr. Stanley. 29 " Remington rifle cartridges. 38 " Winchester rifle cartridges. 24 " Maxim rifle cartridges. 24 " European provisions. 10 loads officers' baggage. 15 " brass rods. 1 " tobacco. 1 " cowries. 12 " rice. 7 " biscuits. 1 " salt. 3 " tents ---- 167 ---- 
59021	----	[Illustration: Book Cover] [Illustration: Map of Africa] [Illustration] THE BOY TRAVELLERS IN THE FAR EAST _PART FIFTH_ * * * * * ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY THROUGH AFRICA BY THOMAS W. KNOX AUTHOR OF "THE YOUNG NIMRODS IN NORTH AMERICA" "THE YOUNG NIMRODS AROUND THE WORLD" "ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN JOURNEYS TO JAPAN AND CHINA--TO SIAM AND JAVA--TO CEYLON AND INDIA--TO EGYPT AND THE HOLY LAND" ETC. Illustrated NEW YORK HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 1884 By THOMAS W. KNOX. * * * * * THE BOY TRAVELLERS IN THE FAR EAST. Five Volumes. Copiously Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $3.00 each. The volumes sold separately. Each volume complete in itself. I. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY TO JAPAN AND CHINA. II. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY TO SIAM AND JAVA. With Descriptions of Cochin-China, Cambodia, Sumatra, and the Malay Archipelago. III. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY TO CEYLON AND INDIA. With Descriptions of Borneo, the Philippine Islands, and Burmah. IV. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY TO EGYPT AND PALESTINE. V. ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY THROUGH AFRICA. * * * * * HUNTING ADVENTURES ON LAND AND SEA. Two Volumes. Copiously Illustrated. 8vo, Cloth, $2.50 each. The volumes sold separately. Each volume complete in itself. I. THE YOUNG NIMRODS IN NORTH AMERICA. II. THE YOUNG NIMRODS AROUND THE WORLD. * * * * * PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. _Any of the above volumes sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price._ PREFACE With this volume the wanderings of the Boy Travellers in the Far East are brought to an end. Those enterprising and observant youths have arrived safely at home, in company with their companion and mentor, Doctor Bronson. They have seen and learned a great deal in their absence, and it has been the aim of the author to tell the story of their travels so that it would interest and instruct the school-mates and friends of Frank Bassett and Fred Bronson, together with others who have not the pleasure of their personal acquaintance. The method followed in the preparation of the preceding volumes of the series of the Boy Travellers has been observed in the present book, as far as it was possible to do so. Though the author has visited several parts of Africa, he has never made a journey to the Equatorial Regions of the Dark Continent; consequently he has been placed under greater obligations to other writers than in his preceding works, and the personal experiences of Frank and Fred in Central Africa were not those of the compiler of the narrative. But he has endeavored to maintain the vividness of the story by the introduction of incidents drawn from many books of African travel and exploration; he has sought to confine fiction to the narrowest bounds, and to construct an account of travel and adventure that should be true in every respect save in the individual characters portrayed. Many authorities have been consulted in the preparation of "The Boy Travellers in Central Africa," and while some have been freely drawn upon, others have been touched with a light hand. The incidents of the volume have been mainly taken from the works of African explorers of the last thirty years; a few are of older date, and some are from the stories of travellers not yet in print. During the preparation of the volume the author has been in correspondence with several gentlemen who have supplied him with information relative to the most recent explorations, and he has kept a watchful eye on the current news from the land under consideration. Though the wanderings of the Boy Travellers were confined to Central Africa, other portions of the continent were studied, as the reader will discover while perusing the following pages. Many of the volumes consulted in the preparation of the book are named in the narrative, but circumstances made it inconvenient to refer to all. Among the volumes most freely used are the works of the following authors: Stanley's "Through the Dark Continent" and "Coomassie and Magdala;" Livingstone's "Travels and Researches in South Africa," "Expedition to the Zambesi," and "Last Journals;" Schweinfurth's "The Heart of Africa" (two volumes); Barth's "Discoveries in North and Central Africa" (three volumes); Speke's "Journal of the Discovery of the Source of the Nile;" Burton's "The Lake Regions of Central Africa;" Long's "Central Africa;" Baker's "The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia" and "Ismailïa;" Reade's "Savage Africa;" Bourne's "African Discovery and Adventure" (two volumes); Wilson's "Western Africa;" Baldwin's "Hunting in South Africa;" Cumming's "A Hunter's Life in Africa;" Silver's "Hand-book to South Africa;" Cameron's "Across Africa;" Serpa-Pinto's "Comment J'ai Traversé L'Afrique" (two volumes); Du Chaillu's "Equatorial Africa," "Ashango Land," "Wild Life Under the Equator," "My Apingi Kingdom," and "Lost in the Jungle;" Anderson's "Lake Ngami;" and lastly, several authors whose narratives have appeared in _Le Tour du Monde_. The publishers have kindly allowed the use of illustrations which have appeared in previous volumes relating to the African continent, in addition to those specially prepared for this work. The maps in the front and rear covers were drawn from the best authorities, and are intended to embody all recent discoveries. With this explanation of his methods, and the acknowledgment of his indebtedness to numerous explorers and writers, the author submits the adventures of Frank and Fred in Africa to the press and public that have so kindly received the narratives of the previous travels of those youths. T. W. K. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY.--FROM CAIRO TO KOROSKO. 13 CHAPTER II. LEAVING KOROSKO.--EARLY EXPLORERS OF THE NILE VALLEY. 25 CHAPTER III. FROM KOROSKO TO ABOO HAMED.--THE NILE AGAIN.--ADVENTURE WITH A CROCODILE. 37 CHAPTER IV. BERBER AND SHENDY.--HUNTING THE HIPPOPOTAMUS.--TERRIBLE REVENGE OF AN ETHIOPIAN KING. 48 CHAPTER V. LIFE IN KHARTOUM.--DEPARTURE FOR GONDOKORO. 61 CHAPTER VI. AMONG THE SHILLOOK NEGROES.--ARRIVAL AT FASHODA.--EXPLORERS OF THE NILE. 74 CHAPTER VII. AN ANTELOPE HUNT.--GUINEA-WORMS, WHITE ANTS, AND GREAT SNAKES. 86 CHAPTER VIII. THE DINKAS AND BARIS.--GONDOKORO.--ANNEXATION TO EGYPT. 99 CHAPTER IX. AN ELEPHANT HUNT.--MARCHING SOUTHWARD FROM GONDOKORO. 116 CHAPTER X. A FISHING EXCURSION.--ENCOUNTERING A HIPPOPOTAMUS.--THE COUNTRY OF THE NYAM-NYAMS. 130 CHAPTER XI. ARRIVAL AT AFUDDO.--DIVISION OF ROUTES.--FRANK'S DEPARTURE. 149 CHAPTER XII. DEPARTURE OF THE TWO EXPEDITIONS.--IN THE SHOOLI COUNTRY.--ATTACKED IN AN AMBUSCADE. 162 CHAPTER XIII. FRANK ON A HUNTING EXCURSION.--DRIVING THE PLAIN WITH FIRE. 175 CHAPTER XIV. ARRIVAL AT FATIKO.--THE MARCH CONTINUED.--FRANK'S ANTELOPE HUNT. 189 CHAPTER XV. AN ELEPHANT HUNT.--CROSSING THE VICTORIA NILE.--ARRIVAL AT FOUEIRA.--KING RIONGA AND HIS PEOPLE. 203 CHAPTER XVI. THE ALBERT N'YANZA.--ACCOUNT OF ITS DISCOVERY.--INCIDENTS OF THE FIRST DAY'S VOYAGE. 216 CHAPTER XVII. A DAY ON AN ISLAND.--INCIDENTS OF HUNTING AND FISHING.--LAKE-DWELLINGS OF CENTRAL AFRICA. 228 CHAPTER XVIII. DR. LIVINGSTONE AND HIS DISCOVERIES. 241 CHAPTER XIX. FROM THE ALBERT N'YANZA TO FOUEIRA. 262 CHAPTER XX. DEPART FROM FOUEIRA.--INTERVIEW WITH KING RIONGA.--THE PLATEAU OF CENTRAL AFRICA.--EXPLORATIONS OF THE NIGER. 275 CHAPTER XXI. TRAVELS OF DR. ROHLFS.--THE TSETSE-FLY.--THROUGH UNYORO. 293 CHAPTER XXII. THE MARCH THROUGH UGUNDA.--ARRIVAL AT KING M'TESA'S PALACE. 306 CHAPTER XXIII. CEREMONIES AT M'TESA'S COURT.--THE TELEPHONE IN AFRICA. 321 CHAPTER XXIV. AT M'TESA'S COURT.--VISIT TO THE VICTORIA N'YANZA.--ASTONISHING THE KING. 334 CHAPTER XXV. AN EXCURSION ON THE VICTORIA N'YANZA. 349 CHAPTER XXVI. RIPON FALLS.--THE OUTLET OF THE VICTORIA N'YANZA. 361 CHAPTER XXVII. RETURN TO RUBAGA.--FAREWELL TO M'TESA.--VOYAGE DOWN THE VICTORIA N'YANZA. 375 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ALEXANDRA NILE.--FRED'S DESCRIPTION OF THE WEST COAST OF AFRICA. 388 CHAPTER XXIX. A DESCRIPTION OF SOUTH AFRICA.--ENGLISH COLONIES.--OSTRICH FARMING. 404 CHAPTER XXX. RESUMING THE MARCH.--MIRAMBO'S COUNTRY.--HUNTING ZEBRAS.--DESCRIPTION OF THE SOKO. 418 CHAPTER XXXI. TO MIRAMBO'S CAPITAL.--STANLEY'S WORK ON THE LIVINGSTONE. 431 CHAPTER XXXII. UNYAMYEMBE.--AMONG THE ARABS.--MARCHING TOWARD THE COAST. 449 CHAPTER XXXIII. INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY TO THE COAST.--CONCLUSION. 463 ILLUSTRATIONS The Heart of Africa. _Frontispiece._ Map of Africa. _Front Cover._ Map of Central Africa. _Rear Cover._ "The Carriage is Ready!" 13 Fred's Quandary. 14 The First Shave. 14 Camp and Caravan. 17 A Group of Porters. 19 Dr. Schweinfurth Ascending the Nile. 22 An African Horizon. 23 A Village in "the Dark Continent." 23 The Native at Home. 25 Arab Slave-traders. 27 A Slave-gang on the Road. 28 Baker's Expedition Crossing the Desert. 30 "The Forty Thieves." 33 View on the Bahr-el-Azrek. 35 Pilgrims on the Road to Mecca. 36 The Guide in the Desert. 37 A Mirage in the Desert. 39 Sunrise on the Sea of Sand. 40 Scene at the Wells. 41 Mountain Pass in the Desert. 42 Dragging a Crocodile to Land. 45 Securing a Supper. 47 The Home of Behemoth. 49 An African River Scene. 50 A Narrow Escape. 51 Hippopotamus Spears. 52 Spearing the River-horse. 53 A Berber Arab. 55 Sheep of Berber. 56 View in the Atbara Valley. 58 An Ethiopian King. 60 Arrival at Khartoum. 61 Elephants at Home.--Shaking a Fruit-tree. 63 Profiles of Dinka Negroes. 65 Bringing a Slave to Market. 66 Trees near the River. 68 View near the Edge of the Town. 69 Preparing Dinner. 70 Baker's Expedition Leaving Khartoum. 71 A Village Scene. 72 The Heart of Africa. 73 A Bird of the White Nile. 75 An Ambatch Canoe. 76 An Adventure on the Nile. 77 Speke and Grant in Central Africa. 79 Group of Gani Men. 81 Karuma Falls, on the Victoria Nile (Somerset River). 83 View of Fashoda. 85 Scene on the White Nile above the Sobat. 86 Hauling a Steamboat through a Canal Cut in the Sudd. 88 Nests of White Ants. 91 A Herd of Antelope. 93 A Slave-making Ant, Magnified. 94 Colonel Long's Great Snake. 96 Python Seizing its Prey. 98 Head of a Dinka Bull. 99 Sectional View of Dinka Hut. 100 A Dinka Cattle-yard. 101 A Sheep without Wool. 102 A Dinka Village near the White Nile. 104 Ceremony at Gondokoro on its Annexation to Egypt. 107 Austrian Mission-house at Gondokoro. 108 View of Gondokoro, from the River. 109 Colonel Abd-el-Kader. 110 Bari Arrows and Elephant-spear. 112 Baris Stealing Cattle from the Garrison at Gondokoro. 113 African Drums. 115 The Nile below Afuddo. 116 A Nyam-Nyam Girl. 117 Entrance of the Lake. 118 Nyam-Nyam Warriors. 119 Elephant Coming to Drink. 121 Elephants Hunted in the Water. 123 The Navigable Nile above the Last Cataracts. 125 Saddle-donkeys. 126 Marching through the Bari Country. 127 Camp Scene. 129 One of the Cooks. 130 The Second Day's March. 131 Fishing Village in an African Lake. 133 Stampeding the Caravan. 134 Halting-place near a Pond. 135 Hippopotamus Attacking a Raft. 137 A Night Attack by a River-horse. 138 Tying Up Ivories for the March. 140 Removing a Village. 141 A Nyam-Nyam Dog. 142 Singular Head-dress of a Nyam-Nyam. 144 Hut for Boys. 145 A Nyam-Nyam Granary. 145 An Akka Warrior. 146 Dr. Schweinfurth's Pygmy. 147 Standing for his Portrait. 148 Crossing a Marsh. 149 A Wet Road. 150 A Snake in Camp. 152 Scene near Afuddo. 153 A Caravan of an Ivory-trader. 156 An Ivory Porter. 158 The Central African Steamer _Khedive_. 161 Winwood Reade's Ox and Hammock Train. 163 Near the Shore of the Lake. 165 Crossing a Small Stream. 166 An Attraction for a Hyena. 168 Attack in an Ambuscade. 170 Two of our Porters. 172 Antelope of the Shooli Country (Female). 173 Antelope of the Shooli Country (Male). 174 A Village Headman. 176 An African Magician Superintending the Slaughtering of an Ox. 177 A Native Ferry. 178 Net-hunting by the Shooli Tribe. 180 Driving Game before a Prairie Fire. 182 The River Bank. 184 Frank's Bird. 185 Rocky Hills. 185 Great Rock near the Camp. 186 Peculiar Table-rock in the Bari Country. 187 Baker's Battle with the Slave-dealers.--Charge of the Egyptian Soldiers. 190 Crossing a Plain. 192 Fort Fatiko. 193 Ground-plan of the Fort. 194 View from the Rock-fort of Fatiko. 195 Camp where Captain Speke was Detained. 197 N'samma Antelope. 199 Charge of a Lioness. 201 A Dangerous Position. 204 Frank's Discovery: a "Rogue" Elephant. 206 Navigation under Difficulties. 208 An Unpleasant Acquaintance. 210 The Victoria Nile at Rionga's Island. 211 Interview between Baker Pacha and Rionga. 213 Water-bottle. 214 Gourds of different Shapes. 215 Lake Scene in Central Africa. 216 Scene on the Shores of Lake Tanganyika. 218 A Lake Village. 220 Lake Fishes of Central Africa. 221 A Fisherman Ready for Work. 222 A Fish-basket. 223 A Village Chief. 224 Native Heads. 225 On the Shore of the Lake. 226 An Island in the Lake. 228 A Flock of Cranes. 230 Fred's Second Prize. 231 A Pair of Kingfishers at Home. 232 Fish-eagle on a Hippopotamus Trap. 233 Central African Yam. 235 Potato and Yam Fields. 235 The Kilnoky. 236 Young Polypterus. 237 Lake Mohrya, with Villages. 238 A House in the Water. 239 Ideal Representation of a Swiss Lake-village. 240 Livingstone's House at Zanzibar. 241 David Livingstone. 242 Chuma and Susi. 244 Page from Livingstone's Last Journal. 246 The Last Mile of Livingstone's Journey. 248 Livingstone Entering the Hut where he Died. 249 Fording a Swollen River. 250 A Lion Killing Livingstone's Donkey. 251 "Goree," or Slave-stick. 252 Manner of Fettering a Gang of Slaves. 253 Slavers Avenging their Losses. 254 Quilimane, at the Mouth of the Zambesi. 255 View on the Navigable Part of the Zambesi. 257 The Great Falls of Mosi-oa-tunya. 259 Bird's-eye View of Mosi-oa-tunya. 261 Caravan Crossing a Plain. 263 Scene in an African Village. 264 Crossing a River on a Fallen Tree. 266 Goatsucker ("Cosmetornis Spekii"). 267 A Camp near the Hills. 269 Kawendé Surgery. 270 A Pair of Sham Demons. 272 An African Band of Music. 273 Sham Demons Ready for Business. 274 View on the Road. 276 The King's Residence. 277 Kabba Rega's Attack and Defeat. 279 Thatched Hut in Rionga's Village. 280 The Country Back from the River. 281 Crossing a River in Unyoro. 283 Effect of a Long Rain in Africa.--Animals Seeking Safety. 285 Sunset on Lake Tchad. 287 Scene on the Niger at Say. 288 View of Kabara, the Port of Timbuctoo. 289 Timbuctoo, from the Terrace of the House Occupied by Dr. Barth. 291 A Village on the Guinea Coast. 294 Scene near Lake Tchad. 295 An Amazon of Dahomey. 297 1, the Tsetse; 2, the same, Magnified; 3, its Proboscis. 299 Colonel Long's Battle at M'rooli. 301 Colonel Long's Companions at M'rooli. 302 A Group of Kidi Men. 303 A Substitute for the Horse. 304 Approaching Camp. 305 A Queen of Ugunda Dragged to Execution. 307 Kamrasi's First Lesson in the Bible. 308 Mountains in the Distance. 310 Villages in the Hilly Country. 312 Flag of Ugunda. 313 Long's First Visit to M'tesa. 315 Ugunda Boy. 316 View of M'tesa's Palace from Doctor Bronson's Zeriba. 318 A Warrior of Ugunda. 319 View of Rubaga from the Great Road. 320 A Reception at the Court of King M'tesa. 323 A Tree of Ugunda. 324 A Daughter of King M'tesa. 325 King of Ugunda Retiring. 327 Native of Ugunda, with Hunting Spear. 328 The King's Musicians. 329 Visitors in the Zeriba. 330 Captain Speke Attending a Review of the Ugunda Troops. 332 Henry M. Stanley. 335 On the Road to the Lake. 336 Ugunda Boat. 338 View of Murchison Creek. 339 Hills Back from the Lake. 340 "Elephant's Foot," or "Gouty-limbed," Tree. 341 Trees and Climbing Plants in Central Africa. 343 Charging a Retort in a Gas Factory. 345 Diagram of Gas-works. 346 Frank's Gas-retort. 347 Seeing the Show. 348 M'tesa's Idea for Crossing Africa. 350 Returning from an Excursion. 351 The King's Slaves Carrying Fuel and Cutting Rice. 353 An African Drum-corps. 354 Lake Scenery in Central Africa. 356 Kambari Fish. 357 Fred's Experiment in Cooking Fish. 359 On the Lake. 360 Jack. 361 Ripon Falls: the Nile Flowing Out of the Victoria N'yanza. 363 A Group of Hippopotami. 365 Ready for Business. 366 Trouble in the Rhinoceros Family. 367 Bad for the Dog. 368 Rhinoceros Heads. 369 Speke Delivering the Spoils of his Hunt to King Rumanika. 372 In Captivity. 373 Village and Villagers. 376 An Unpleasant Encounter. 377 Antelopes among the Marshes near Usavara. 380 Native of Unyamwezi. 382 Natives of the Islands. 384 Boats for Lake Navigation. 385 An African Soko. 386 Arms and Ornaments. 387 View of the Uplands in Karagué. 389 The _Lady Alice_, in Sections. 390 Native Village on the Gold Coast. 392 Cape Coast Castle. 394 Monrovia, Liberia. 395 Free Town, Sierra Leone. 396 A Street in Coomassie. 397 A Village in Ashantee. 398 "Young Guinea". 399 Fantee Gentleman and Soldier. 400 The Burning of Coomassie. 401 A Belle of the Guinea Coast. 402 View of Elmina, on the Gold Coast. 403 Native of Cape Colony. 405 Emigrating to the South African Wilderness. 406 The "March of Civilization." 407 Scene in the South African Diamond Mines. 409 Driving a Flock of Ostriches. 411 The Ostrich and its Hunters. 412 Hunting under Disadvantages. 415 What Fred hoped for. 416 The Ostrich's Natural Enemy. 417 One of the Guides. 419 A Royal Residence in Unyamwezi. 420 War Dance of Mirambo's Followers. 422 Natives Bringing Provisions for Sale. 423 A Protected Village. 425 The Zebra at Home. 426 An African Tembé. 428 Manyuema Hunters Killing Sokos. 429 Rocks by the Wayside. 431 Crossing a Stream. 432 Weapons of the Natives. 433 Man of Massi Kambi. 434 Hill-country near Mirambo's Capitol. 435 Porters and Woman and Child of Usagaru. 436 Hut at Kifuma. 437 Stanley's Voyage on the Livingstone.--Battle with the Natives. 439 Frank Pocock, Stanley's Companion on the Livingstone. 440 Stanley's Expedition Recuperated and Re-clad after Crossing the "Dark Continent." 441 Trading Station on the West Coast of Africa. 443 Curious Head-dress. 444 The Height of Fashion. 445 The First Cataract of the Livingstone. 447 Stanley's Expedition Descending the Livingstone. 448 A Deserter Brought Back. 450 A Native Guard. 451 Said bin Amir's House. 452 Getting Ready for the Road. 454 Halting-place under a Sycamore. 455 A House in Unyamyembe. 456 Unyamwezi Heads. 457 Members of the Caravan. 458 Grinding Meal for Supper. 459 Storehouse for Grain. 460 An African Ferry. 461 Crossing a Plain. 462 A Pond by the Wayside. 464 Capturing a Leopard. 465 Ugogo Heads, with Distended Ears. 466 Women of Ubudjwa. 467 Crossing a River on a Fish-weir. 468 Camp on the Edge of the Makata Swamp. 469 View of Zanzibar from the Sea. 471 From Bagamoya to Zanzibar. 473 CHAPTER I. PREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY.--FROM CAIRO TO KOROSKO. [Illustration: "THE CARRIAGE IS READY!"] "The carriage is ready, gentlemen!" "Has all the baggage been sent to the boat?" "Yes, sir," was the reply; "all except the case of instruments that you wished to keep with you." "All right!" was the cheery response. "We are ready to start, and will not keep the carriage waiting." This conversation occurred on the veranda of a hotel at Cairo, the capital of Egypt, and once renowned as the City of the Caliphs. The first speaker was Ali, a bright boy of Abyssinian birth, and formerly a slave, while the second was Doctor Bronson, a gentleman whose name is familiar to all readers of "The Boy Travellers in the Far East." By his side were Frank Bassett and Fred Bronson, the youths who were guided through Asia by the good Doctor, and had made the journey to Egypt and the Holy Land in his company. [Illustration: FRED'S QUANDARY.] Frank and Fred could hardly be called youths any longer, as Frank was quite as tall as the Doctor, while Fred was only an inch or two less in stature. The boys who set out one morning for Japan and China had now grown to be young men; but Frank insisted that they were still boys, and should so consider themselves till they had passed their majority. There had been some badinage between them relative to that momentous period in a young man's existence when he makes his first essay with a razor. Frank had depicted his cousin seated in front of a mirror, uncertain whether to shave or dye, while Fred had retorted with a caricature in which a cat and a cream-jug had prominent places. We will comply with the wishes of Frank and call them "boys" during the journey they are about commencing. [Illustration: THE FIRST SHAVE.] The carriage drove rapidly along the broad street leading to Boolak, the landing-place of the Nile steamboats, and frequently called the Port of Cairo. The boys were familiar with the scenes of this busy thoroughfare and paid little attention to them, as their thoughts were occupied with the journey of which this ride was the beginning. As they passed the Museum of Antiquities, Frank recalled to Fred their first visit to that interesting place, and the delightful hours they had spent in studying the souvenirs of Ancient Egypt. "If we were not pressed for time," he added, "I would greatly like to stop there a little while, just to refresh my memory."[1] [1] For a description of the Museum at Boolak and the monuments of Ancient Egypt, see "The Boy Travellers in Egypt and the Holy Land." Published by Harper & Brothers, 1882. The steamer was lying at the river-bank, and the smoke from her funnel told that she was about ready for departure. As our friends stepped on the deck of the boat they were met by their dragoman, who told the Doctor that all the heavy baggage had been stowed below, while the light articles needed on the voyage would be found in their cabins. Consequently, our friends had little to do for the half-hour that intervened before the departure of the steamer. The Doctor went to the hold to give a glance at the bales and boxes deposited there, and then, accompanied by Fred and Frank, made a tour of the cabins, to make sure nothing had been forgotten. The dragoman was a trusty servant, but Doctor Bronson had learned from practical experience that perpetual vigilance is an important requisite for travelling in wild countries. The Nile voyage was not a new one to our friends, and as the story of their adventures has already been told in a previous volume, we will not repeat them here. As we are in the land of the Arabian Nights we will borrow the Enchanted Carpet and wish our friends at the landing-place at Korosko, about half way between the first and second Cataracts of the Nile. "One, two, three, and here we are!" It was early one forenoon when the steamboat stopped in front of Korosko, and the youths were permitted to step to the shore. Abdul, the dragoman, had arranged by telegraph with a merchant of Korosko for the temporary storage of the baggage of the party and for a lodging-place for the travellers, until camels could be obtained for their journey over the Desert. The merchant was at the landing to meet them, with a force of some thirty or more porters to place the baggage on shore and carry it to his warehouse, a hundred yards away. In spite of the large number of men it required several hours for landing, and storing everything. A journey into the interior of Africa is a serious affair, as the traveller requires a great many things which are not needed in most other countries. "We are going where there are few resources," said the Doctor to his young friends weeks before, when they were making their plans for the journey, "and unless we would suffer we must be well provided at starting. "First of all, we need money, just as we need it for travel in any other country." "Of course we do," said Frank; "but there are no bankers in Africa, and our letters of credit will be of no use." "But we can take plenty of gold and silver," said Fred, "and perhaps we shall want a few camel-loads of copper coin." "Even that will not answer," replied Doctor Bronson, with a smile, "as the coin of civilized lands is unknown in Africa." "What must we carry, then," Frank asked, "if bankers' credits are of no use, and coin does not circulate?" "We must carry the money of Africa," was the reply, "and here it is." Frank took the sheet of paper the Doctor held in his hand and read aloud to his cousin: "'Beads of different kinds and colors, put up and labelled, so that the contents of each package can be known at a glance. Every tribe of negroes in Africa has tastes of its own, and beads that find ready circulation in one region are worthless in another. "'Cotton cloths of different kinds, white, gray, striped, and in all the colors and combinations of the rainbow. "'Gaudy handkerchiefs, and the gaudier they are the better for purposes of trade. In packing them for transportation they should be placed in the bales with the cloths, which should also be made up in assorted lots, so that when a bale is opened several kinds of goods may be displayed. "'Pocket-mirrors, copper wire, in rolls and of different sizes; small tools, fish-hooks, cheap watches, brass jewellery, mechanical toys, sleigh-bells, knives, hatchets, and other edged tools that can be easily carried and handled.'" "Something to amuse the natives is next on the list," the Doctor remarked, as Frank paused for a moment, "and it is often of great advantage to amuse them." "'A dozen musical boxes of small size, and one large one, playing several tunes,'" continued Frank, reading from the paper. "I suppose the small ones are for presents," said Fred, "and the large one is to be exhibited on great occasions, when we have company?" "Exactly so," replied the Doctor; "it will be a convenient means of entertaining savages, especially when we cannot converse with them. You observe that I have included in the list of desirable things a magic-lantern and a telephone, with half a mile of wire and all the apparatus complete. They are easy to carry, and their performances will be as interesting as those of the music-boxes." "'Cloth, beads, caps, tools, toys, and trinkets are what we need for traffic with the natives and paying our expenses,"' read Frank as he turned the sheet of paper. "Now we come to what we want for our own use." [Illustration: CAMP AND CARAVAN.] "'Tea and coffee, in air-tight cans of not more than a pound each, so that they will not be spoiled by the climate: preserved meats and vegetables, sugar, spices, pepper, sauces, vinegar, matches, soap, candles, and a few other things, the fewer the better. Everything we carry must be enclosed in tin cases, so as to protect it from dampness, as the climate of Central Africa is ruinous to all articles that absorb moisture. "'Rifles, shot-guns, and pistols, with plenty of ammunition. The rifles and shot-guns of the Remington system, using fixed ammunition.'" One of the boys asked what was meant by "fixed ammunition." "The cartridges are made up," the Doctor explained, "and are all ready for use. The powder is in a shell of copper or brass, with the explosive cap in one end and the bullet or shot firmly wedged in the other. The cartridges are impervious to water, and can be kept a long time without detriment." "We must have a large quantity," said Frank, "and even then we might find our supply running short, with no chance of renewal." "Certainly that might happen," was the reply, "and we can guard against it by having a few dozens of steel shells made like the copper ones, and with nipples for ordinary percussion-caps. These shells can be reloaded many times. We can carry powder in tin canisters, caps in boxes, and moulds for casting bullets, and then, with a few bars of lead in our possession, we shall be independent of fixed ammunition from the factories. "We will have one heavy rifle, carrying a very large ball, for shooting elephants, and a special supply of ammunition to fit it. The rest of the rifles will be all alike, so that there will be no trouble about getting hold of the wrong ammunition when starting out for a day's hunt. The same will be the case with the shot-guns, and we will observe a similar rule in regard to the revolvers." Frank next read a list of medicines intended for the maladies to which human nature is ordinarily liable. Last and greatest of all was "sulphate of quinine." The quantity seemed altogether out of proportion to the rest of the stock, and he naturally asked Doctor Bronson why he carried so much of it. "Africa is a land of fevers," replied the Doctor, "and has a bad reputation among travellers on this account alone. The equatorial rains make the climate exceedingly moist, and the exhalations from the soil are detrimental to the health of all Europeans. We shall be likely to suffer from fevers, and you know that quinine is the great remedy for fever. It has saved many a life, and its absence has caused many a death. When we begin our journey we must each of us carry a small supply of the drug in our pockets, and be ready to use it intelligently. Each must be able to administer it to the other; and our personal servants should be instructed how to act whenever they see us suffering from the hot-blooded visitor. We will have more talk on this subject when we approach Central Africa." Then came a list of clothing, tents, camp equipage, and kindred things that would be needed. Frank remarked that Africa must be a land of rain, or they would not require so many water-proof garments, and Fred added that it was not as hot as it was reputed to be, or they would not carry so many blankets. The Doctor explained that in the elevated regions of Africa the nights were almost always cool, even though the days might be sultry, and the traveller who ventured there without plenty of warm covering was liable to suffer. The last entry on the paper was, that no package should weigh more than fifty pounds. Fred asked the reason for this rule, as he had understood a camel could carry seven or eight hundred pounds' burden without difficulty, provided he was in good condition and of full size. "That is true," said Doctor Bronson, "but we can't go all the way with camels. In the interior of Africa our baggage must be carried by porters; and the load for a man is limited to sixty pounds, and ought not to exceed fifty. Of course it sometimes happens that elephants' tusks and other articles weigh more than sixty pounds, but for such burdens the strongest men are selected, and a higher price is usually paid. [Illustration: A GROUP OF PORTERS.] "These porters are known as 'pagazi,' and are a necessary adjunct of every expedition in the interior of Africa. Sometimes it is impossible to procure a sufficient number, and the traveller may be delayed weeks or months while waiting for them. On the road they must be watched very carefully, to see that they do not desert with their burdens; and, in order to prevent this, the rear of a caravan must be brought up by a trusty guard. A great part of the troubles of all African explorers is due to the pagazi, and more than one expedition has been completely broken up by their misconduct. "Sometimes they desert in a body, and the traveller who has gone to sleep, with a hundred or more porters in his employ, has risen in the morning to find his camp deserted and not a man to be found. In this dilemma he must wait till new porters can be hired, or he may be obliged to destroy a large part of his goods." "Wouldn't it be possible for him to sell them to some of the native chiefs in such an emergency, instead of destroying them?" one of the boys inquired. "Perhaps he could do so," the Doctor answered; "but he would obtain a very small price for them, as the chiefs would know he was in a great strait and must be rid of them. Such a practice would encourage desertions, as the local chiefs would be in collusion with the porters, and no traveller could get through in safety. It is an invariable rule with the Portuguese and Arab traders in Central Africa to destroy all goods that they are unable to carry by reason of the desertion of their pagazi. It is their only way of insuring themselves against certain loss in future journeys, and they are very particular in observing it." Frank asked if they were to have any scientific instruments, such as were usually carried by explorers in strange countries. Doctor Bronson replied that they would certainly do so, but he had not yet made out his list of what would be wanted. "For the first part of our journey," said the Doctor, "we shall be in a region that has been explored sufficiently, so that its principal geographical positions are known, and there will be very little occasion for instruments. But later on our route will be much like a voyage on the ocean, and we must find out 'by observation,' as the navigators say, where we are. For this purpose we can imagine that we are going on a ship, and must have the instruments that a ship usually carries." "I understand," said Fred. "We will have a quadrant or a sextant for ascertaining the position of the sun, just as a captain does at sea. But will the irregular line of the land serve us for a horizon, as the line between sea and sky serves the mariner?" "Certainly not," answered the Doctor, with a smile; "and to meet this difficulty we employ the artificial horizon." "How is it made?" one of the youths inquired. "It is a very simple affair," the Doctor answered; "it is nothing but a horizontal mirror, and is constructed in two or three ways. It may be an ordinary mirror or looking-glass, in a frame adjusted upon screws and set round with spirit-levels, so that it can be brought to the proper position, or it may be a basin of mercury. A tub of water may be made to answer in an emergency, but it is not easy to get a reflection from it of sufficient distinctness for purposes of observation. With the artificial horizon and a sextant the altitude of the sun or of a star may be readily obtained. Half the angular distance between a star and its image in the artificial horizon is equal to the altitude of a star above the real horizon." "But there's another trouble," said Frank. "At sea the navigator knows the run of his ship by means of the log, as we learned when we crossed the Pacific Ocean in our journey to Japan and China. How are we to 'throw the log' when travelling on land?" "That is an easy matter," was the reply. "We will have several pedometers, or instruments for counting the steps. They are about the size of an ordinary watch, and worn in the pocket in the same way. Every step taken by the wearer is registered, and by knowing the length of our steps we can get very near the distance travelled. The pedometer is only approximative, and not exact, and the same is the case with the log on a ship. [Illustration: DR. SCHWEINFURTH ASCENDING THE NILE.] "A famous African explorer, Dr. Schweinfurth, once had the misfortune to lose his instruments and all the records of his journey by fire. For six months after that calamity he counted his footsteps, noting hundreds by means of his fingers, and making a stroke in his note-book on reaching five hundred. The second five hundred was recorded by making a reverse stroke on the previous one, so as to form a cross, and in this way at the end of a day's journey every thousand steps he had taken was shown by a cross. He thus made account of a million and a quarter paces in the six months that he continued the practice. "Dr. Schweinfurth says that the steps of a man are a more accurate standard of measurement than those of an animal. The camel, when urged to its full speed, does not increase the number of his paces but their length; while those of a man, at whatever rate he walks, are about the same. He suggests that any one may satisfy himself on this point by measuring his own footsteps in moist ground. He will find them varying very little, no matter what the rate of speed. Dr. Schweinfurth says his steps varied, according to the nature of the road, from twenty-four to twenty-eight inches, and we may set this down as the average step of a man of medium height. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN HORIZON.] "In addition to sextants and pedometers, we will have a complete apparatus for taking photographs, with plenty of dry plates, sensitive paper, and the other necessary materials; then we must have a stock of compasses, barometers, and thermometers; and we must not forget an anemometer, an instrument for measuring the force of the wind. One of our compasses must be an azimuth, which resembles the marine compass, but has a more accurate graduation, and is provided with vertical sights, so that the variation of the needle may be detected. This is done by observing the position of a star through the sights, and comparing its azimuth, or point on the horizon, with the direction of the needle. The position of the star being known, the computation is easy." Doctor Bronson explained that the instruments, tents, fire-arms, and personal outfits could not be procured in Egypt, but must be ordered from London or Paris. The bulk of the provisions might be obtained in Cairo or Alexandria, but the character of the supplies could not always be relied upon. Consequently it was decided to make the list as complete as possible and ship everything from the English and French capitals, so that they would not be delayed at Cairo. Of course there would be some deficiencies, and these could be filled from the Cairo market before the date of departure. The plan was carried out without accident. We have seen our friends on their way to Central Africa, and have now landed them safely at Korosko. [Illustration: A VILLAGE IN "THE DARK CONTINENT."] CHAPTER II. LEAVING KOROSKO.--EARLY EXPLORERS OF THE NILE VALLEY. The preparations for leaving Korosko required several days. Camels were to be hired, loads distributed, and drivers and servants engaged. A great many small details consumed the time of our friends, from the hour of their arrival till their departure. Twenty camels were engaged, sixteen for baggage and four for riding purposes, three of the latter being for the Doctor and the boys, and one for the dragoman. The boy Ali was assigned to a place on one of the baggage camels, as he was considered too young to have a saddle animal all to himself. Twenty camels make a respectable procession, and the boys were in high glee when they saw their beasts of burden drawn up in line, ready for departure. Fourteen of the baggage camels were sent away one evening, and our friends started early the following morning with the rest of the train. This included their saddle camels and the two animals that carried the things they would need on the journey from day to day. A glance at the map of Nubia will show a great bend in the Nile between Korosko and Aboo Hamed. Boats ascending the river and following this bend often consume three or four weeks, while the ride over the Desert can be made in from six to nine days. There are three cataracts in this part of the river. They are impassable except during the rise of the Nile, and even then their ascent is a tedious and expensive affair. Consequently the principal route of travel and commerce is through the Desert. There was no trouble in keeping the road, as it is well known to the guides and camel-drivers, and is annually traversed by great numbers of people. The dragoman, Abdul, had been over the route repeatedly, sometimes with small parties, and on two occasions with expeditions that the Egyptian Government had sent to the Upper Nile and the lake regions of Central Africa. Frank and Fred were greatly interested in the details of these expeditions, and listened eagerly to Abdul's account of them and the difficulties of transporting heavy articles over the Desert sands. [Illustration: THE NATIVE AT HOME.] At their first halt on the journey from Korosko, Abdul told them of his experience with the expedition of Sir Samuel Baker, for the suppression of the slave-trade in the Soudan country, some years ago, which was about as follows: "In 1869-70 Sir Samuel Baker was sent by Ismail Pacha, Khedive of Egypt, to suppress the slave-trade in the regions where we are now going. In order that he should do so effectively he was provided with a small army, and a suitable equipment of steamers for navigating the river, together with a large stock of goods for opening legitimate trade. Most of the slave-traders were Arab subjects of the Khedive, and their centre of business was at Khartoum." Fred asked how many men were engaged in the business. "As to that," said Abdul, "it is not easy to say. The merchants of Khartoum had organized a sort of military force for capturing the negroes and bringing them to market, and one of them was reported to have twenty-five hundred men in his pay. They were armed and drilled like soldiers, though not very thoroughly disciplined, and were divided into companies sufficiently strong to overpower any African village, and make prisoners of such of the inhabitants as they wished to carry to market. Altogether, it was thought that fifteen thousand subjects of the Khedive had left their honest occupations and were engaged, directly or indirectly, in the slave-trade." "They must have occupied a great deal of country," said Frank, "for so many of them to be engaged in the traffic." [Illustration: ARAB SLAVE-TRADERS.] "That is true," replied Abdul. "Every trader had a district to himself, and his men were divided into companies, with a chain of stations or military posts. They could thus hold sway over an immense area. One slave-trader named Agad controlled a region containing ninety thousand square miles, and another had a territory nearly as large. "There was an agreement among the traders that they would not disturb each other's territory; they sometimes got into trouble and fought among themselves, but this was not often, as they had quite enough to do to kill and capture the natives. Each man in his own region could do what he chose, and the business had all the horrible features that the slave-trade has everywhere." One of the boys asked how many slaves were taken from Central Africa every year, and where the slaves were carried. [Illustration: A SLAVE-GANG ON THE ROAD.] "It was estimated by Sir Samuel Baker," replied Abdul, "that not less than fifty thousand slaves were carried every year from the interior to the sea-coast, or kept in the camps of the slave-traders. The capture of fifty or a hundred slaves means the destruction of one or more villages, and the death of fifty or a hundred innocent persons while the destruction is going on. The traders induce tribes that would otherwise be at peace to make war on each other, by agreeing to buy all the prisoners. Whole districts are depopulated, life and property are insecure, and for every slave that is brought away it is safe to say that three or four of his kindred have been killed or die of starvation. It was a noble impulse of the Khedive to put an end to this state of affairs and remove the stigma of slave-dealing from his country." "But they still have slavery in Egypt, do they not?" inquired one of the boys. "Yes," was the reply, "slavery exists here, as Egypt is a Moslem country, and the Koran expressly allows it. But the form is growing milder every year, as the government does not protect it. Under Ismail Pacha a man might keep slaves, but if they ran away from him he could not call the police to assist in their capture, as he formerly was able to do. If they chose to stay away they could do so, without fear of being taken back; the result was that every slave-owner was obliged to treat his human property so kindly that there would be no inducement to leave him. Traffic in slaves is not permitted, and consequently the institution is not flourishing, and will soon disappear altogether. "The efforts of Livingstone, Stanley, and other travellers in Central Africa have done much to throw light on the slave-trade, and to persuade some of the African kings and chiefs to abandon it. The only Europeans who encourage it at all now are the Portuguese traders, who have their stations on the east coast of Africa, and even their support to it is generally given in an underhand way. The most extensive slave-dealers are the Arabs, who are not troubled by any religious scruples on the subject, and find a market for their captives among people of similar belief with themselves. "When we get fairly into Central Africa you will probably see something of the system of slavery; so we'll drop the subject now, and I'll tell you how Baker's expedition was fitted out. "Baker received the rank of Pacha, with absolute authority for four years, from April 1, 1869, and was instructed to subdue the countries lying south of Gondokoro, suppress the slave-trade, and introduce a system of regular commerce; open the great lakes near the equator to navigation, and establish military and commercial posts throughout the captured country. "Baker had already been in Central Africa and travelled in the region of the lakes, and consequently he knew something of the difficulties he would encounter. He made grand preparations, which consumed so much time, and were followed by so many delays, that nearly a year elapsed before he left Khartoum for the south." Fred asked if the expedition went up the Nile by way of Korosko, or by another route. "Part of it went that way," said Abdul, "and the rest by Suakim, on the Red Sea. From Suakim there is a road across the Desert to Berber, in Abyssinia. Berber is on the Nile, and from there the river is navigable to Khartoum. I was with the part of the expedition that ascended the Nile, so that I am familiar with Korosko and the route to Aboo Hamed. Khartoom, at the junction of the Blue and White Nile, was selected as the point of departure, and all the supplies for the expedition were sent there. [Illustration: BAKER'S EXPEDITION CROSSING THE DESERT.] "Everything had to be carried over the Desert, and it was an immense affair, I assure you. Six steamboats were sent from Cairo, and three others for navigating the lakes were brought from England, and carried in sections, so that they could be put together at the points where wanted. The boilers of the steamers were found too heavy to be transported on the backs of camels, and it was necessary to mount them on wheels, to which camels were harnessed. "Hundreds of camels were required for carrying all this material, and when the train was on the march it covered the Desert for miles and miles. It was necessary to have many extra camels, to guard against the breaking down of any of the loaded ones, as the loss of a single piece of a boat or its machinery might render all the rest of little or no use. [Illustration: "THE FORTY THIEVES."] "The military part of the expedition comprised about sixteen hundred soldiers, with two batteries of artillery; but so many of the soldiers were found unfit for duty, that half of them were sent back or left behind at Khartoum. Baker finally selected forty men to serve as a body-guard, and they proved to be excellent soldiers, and of more use than all the rest that had been sent to serve him. This small force of picked men was known as 'The Forty.' They were not of the best character, and some of their performances when off duty caused them to be called 'The Forty Thieves' by the English-speaking members of the expedition. "It was expected that there would be much opposition among the merchants of Khartoum when they learned the object for which Baker Pacha had been sent to the Soudan. Of course it would not do for them to declare open hostility, but they could hinder the enterprise in various ways. When Baker arrived at Khartoum he found that the traders had sent away all the boatmen, as they knew the expedition could not move without boats. The police and military were employed to hunt them up, and of course much valuable time was lost in so doing. "When they finally got away from Khartoum they had two steamers and thirty-six sailing-boats. The steamers had each a sailing-boat in tow, and on one of these boats was the commander of the expedition, accompanied by his wife, Lady Baker, and the officers of his staff. "I was with the officers on the other boat, and the two steamers pushed along, with their tows, leaving the sailing craft to follow as fast as they could. We went up what is called the White Nile. Khartoum is at the junction of the Blue and White Nile, the landing-place being on the former stream. The Blue Nile was long supposed to be the principal branch of the river. It was explored by Bruce, who traced it to its source, and thought he had found the spot where the Nile takes its rise." Frank remarked that one of his school-books contained a picture of Bruce standing by the side of a spring not more than a yard across, from which a rivulet was flowing. Fred said he had read something about Bruce, and was sorry he had forgotten exactly what it was. [Illustration: VIEW ON THE BAHR-EL-AZREK.] "Perhaps I can help you," responded Doctor Bronson. "James Bruce was born at Kinnaird, in Scotland, in 1730, and died there in 1794. He was educated for a lawyer, but never practised his profession. His tastes ran in the direction of Oriental languages and literature, and after studying them for some years he was appointed Consul-general for Algiers. He remained there for two years, and then travelled in Tunis, Tripoli, Palestine, Syria, and Egypt, spending nearly five years in Egypt and Abyssinia in an effort to find the sources of the Nile. The Bahr-el-Azrek, or Blue Nile, was then supposed to be the main stream, and Bruce followed it to its source. "When this work was accomplished he returned to England, to tell the story of his discovery. It was published in 1790, under the title, 'Travels to Discover the Sources of the Nile, in the Years 1768-73,' and was in five quarto volumes." "He must have become famous as soon as the book appeared," one of the boys remarked. "Unfortunately for him," replied Doctor Bronson, "his statements were questioned, and he received far more abuse than praise. Some of his accounts were set down as absolute falsehoods, and Bruce died four years later, before the imputation had been disproved. Subsequent travellers have confirmed the truth of his narrative, and given Bruce an honored place on the roll of African explorers." "Was Bruce the first white man who ever saw the head-springs of the Blue Nile?" Frank asked. "No," was the reply; "they were visited by the Portuguese missionary, Paez, in the sixteenth century, but no detailed account of his journey was ever published in our language. He went to Abyssinia in 1603, where he founded a mission, and remained until his death, in 1622. He was in great favor with the King, whom he accompanied on his military expeditions, and it was on one of these journeys, in 1618, that he visited the springs of the Blue Nile. The account was published in Paris, in 1667, under the title, 'Dissertation touchant l'Origine du Nil,' and may be regarded as the earliest work of an explorer of the mysterious river." "How about Herodotus and Strabo?" said Fred. "They can hardly be called explorers of the Nile," the Doctor answered, "as they made no attempt to ascend the river. Neither of them went beyond the first cataract, or at any rate Strabo did not, and the accounts of both writers are largely composed of what they gathered from others rather than what they saw with their own eyes. Their works are the best that have come down to us from their time, and we learned at the site of Memphis how a passage in Strabo's writings gave Mariette Bey the clew which led to the discovery, in 1860, of the Apis Mausoleum.[2] [2] "The Boy Travellers in Egypt and the Holy Land," p. 131. "After Bruce," the Doctor continued, "the next traveller of note in the upper regions of the Nile was Johann Ludwig Burckhardt, a Swiss professor, who was educated at Leipzig and Göttingen, and devoted the best part of his life to the exploration of Africa. He is thought to have been the first European not a Moslem to visit Mecca, and at the time of his death, at Cairo, in 1817, he was planning an expedition to the sources of the Niger. He travelled in Nubia and portions of Abyssinia, but did not penetrate so far inland as Bruce had gone before him. Much of the time he went in the disguise of an Arab, sometimes as a merchant, and sometimes as a sheikh, and he was enabled to do this by his perfect knowledge of Arabic. I think I told you something about his visit to Mecca while we were coming up the Red Sea, on our way from India to Egypt." Both the youths recalled the brief account which the Doctor had given them of the perils of a journey to Mecca, and the names of those who had succeeded in reaching there. The mention of Mecca drew from Abdul an anecdote which illustrated the danger of attempting to travel among fanatical Moslems under the pretence of being of their religion. "Several years ago," said he, "I was at Jeddah, the port of Mecca, at the time of the pilgrimage to the birthplace of Mohammed. A steamer from Suez brought a crowd of pilgrims, and I happened to be at the landing-place when they came on shore. "There was a tall man among them whom I took for a Syrian Moslem, and my belief was confirmed when he spoke to me in Arabic, with just the accent I had heard at Jerusalem and Damascus. We talked a few minutes, and he then walked away, and I never suspected him to be anything but a pious Moslem, on his way to Mecca. "As soon as he left me another pilgrim spoke to me, and said the tall man was an impostor. "'How do you know?' I asked. "'Because,' said the other, 'I have watched him saying his prayers on the way from Suez, and he has twice missed the proper motions of his hands when he bows toward Mecca. Once he placed his prayer-rug at least a quarter of the way round from where it should have been, and once he put his left foot down first when kneeling.' "It was very certain the man was not a Moslem, as he would not make these mistakes if he had been brought up in the religion of the Prophet. I hastened after him, told what I had heard, and warned him of his danger. His character was already known; he would be sure to be pointed out, his deception known, and he would never return from Mecca, if, indeed, he succeeded in getting there. "He looked astonished for a moment, and acknowledged that he was neither a Syrian nor a Moslem. He was a German traveller, who had spent several years in Moslem countries, spoke Arabic fluently, and had conceived the design of going to Mecca. With this object in view he had learned the Moslem forms of prayer, so as to pass himself off for one of 'the faithful,' but it seems he had not been sufficiently careful as to the details. He thanked me for my caution, abandoned his trip to Mecca, and concluded to go to Central Africa instead. What befell him subsequently I never knew." From this point the conversation wandered to various subjects, until one of the party dropped asleep and another followed his example. This occurrence led to a postponement of the story of Abdul's adventures with Sir Samuel Baker, as it was advisable for all the members of the party to get all the sleep they could when the opportunity offered. They followed the native custom of travelling in the morning and afternoon, and resting during the hottest part of the day. [Illustration: PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO MECCA.] CHAPTER III. FROM KOROSKO TO ABOO HAMED.--THE NILE AGAIN.--ADVENTURE WITH A CROCODILE. [Illustration: THE GUIDE IN THE DESERT.] The Desert journey from Korosko is not an affair to be undertaken carelessly and without thoughtful preparation. The distance is about two hundred and fifty miles, and is traversed in eight days. It is necessary to carry water in goat-skins all the way, as there is only one well or spring on the route, and the water from it is undrinkable by man, and only endurable by the powerful stomach of the camel. Of course, the supply was used very sparingly; washing, except in sand, was quite out of the question, and as none of the party had a fondness for the sand-bath, they made no ablutions till reaching the Nile once more, except to moisten their eyes in the morning. The skins of water were distributed upon the camels, and each of the travellers had a small skin hanging at his saddle-bow for a daily supply. By the advice and example of the Doctor each of the boys had an extra skin of water hidden in his baggage, and its existence was carefully concealed from the Arab drivers. These fellows are inclined to improvidence, and had they known of this private provision they would have been certain to count it as part of the regular supply, and expect to draw upon it. The heat of the Desert and the glare of the sun incline the traveller to thirst, and perhaps the knowledge of the necessity for economy is an additional incentive to it. Human nature has curious ways, and the desire for a thing generally increases in proportion to the difficulty of procuring it. Frank and Fred found that the fact of the scarcity of water, and the necessity of limiting their use of the precious fluid, increased their longing for it. At first they yielded by taking occasional draughts, but very soon they decided upon the old expedient of chewing a bit of leather or some other hard substance, to create a flow of saliva to moisten their lips. With a little self-denial, aided by the above practice, they soon conquered their thirst, and were able to get along nearly as well as the Arabs who accompanied them. Frank intimated that the warmth of the water, and the flavor of goat-skin which it soon acquired, had a material influence in lessening his desire for it. The dreary waste of sand was partially relieved here and there by ranges of hills or low mountains, but they were barren as the rest of the Desert, and therefore made comparatively little variation in the landscape. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the sun poured its blistering rays upon the travellers during all the time it was above the horizon. In the morning and evening the heat was not intense, but in the middle of the day it was like the blast of a furnace. At first the jolting of the camels was disagreeable, but in a little while the boys became accustomed to it, and tried to believe they were enjoying themselves. The camels of easiest motion are selected for riding purposes, and the youths were fortunate in their animals, which had been chosen by Abdul. Frank had a very tall and powerful camel, while Fred was on one little more than two-thirds the size of Frank's. The two animals were friendly to each other, but not to their riders, and the boys soon abandoned the attempt to establish social relations with their beasts of burden. "You may possibly be on good terms with them after a while," said Abdul, "but you must be patient. You could hardly expect it under a fortnight, and we ought to be in Aboo Hamed before that time. Most camels hate Europeans instinctively, but are docile with Arabs, just as mules are said to dislike white men and prefer the society of negroes." [Illustration: A MIRAGE IN THE DESERT.] On the second day of their journey Frank happened to look ahead, and to his great surprise saw a beautiful lake, surrounded by groves of trees. He shouted to Frank, and then to the Doctor and Abdul, who were riding just behind them. Abdul quickened the pace of his camel, and was soon at Frank's side. "You told us there was no water on the road," said Frank, "and there is a lake right before us. I suppose it is filled with salt-water, and therefore doesn't count." "Worse than salt-water," responded Doctor Bronson, who joined them. "It isn't water at all, but a mirage." "Of course it is," Frank exclaimed, with a laugh; "I ought to have known better than be deceived by it." "You are not the first to be deceived by it," said Abdul, "and it has been the cause of many deaths on this very route. Men have wandered from the road, confident that they were on the borders of a lake or river, and have fallen exhausted to die on the ground. Colonel Long, in his account of his travels in Central Africa, tells of a regiment on its march from Korosko across this desert. The men saw these lakes of water formed by the mirage; deceived by the illusion and maddened by thirst, they broke from the ranks, in spite of the protests of their guide, and went in search of water. They found their error too late, as most of them perished of exhaustion and thirst." "Look at the graves along the road, and the bleaching bones of the camels," said the Doctor, "and you will understand the perils of the journey over the desert." It was as Doctor Bronson suggested; the way was marked by thousands of skeletons of the faithful beasts of burden that had fallen in the service of their masters; and here and there, at painfully frequent intervals, were the graves of men who had perished of thirst or of the excessive heat. Even if no other landmarks existed, these would be sufficient to indicate the road. The evening journey was continued till a late hour, and the boys were surprised to find that the desert air, so scorching during the day, was of a chilliness suggesting frost at night. Doctor Bronson recalled to them their experience in India, where there was often a sensible change of temperature in going from sunshine into shadow, and said it was a noticeable feature of the desert that it did not retain at night any appreciable portion of the heat poured upon it during the day. "It is fortunate for man that such is the case," he added, "as the coolness of the night enables us to recuperate from the exhaustion of the sweltering temperature of daytime." [Illustration: SUNRISE ON THE SEA OF SAND.] The wells or springs to which allusion has been made are about half way from Korosko to Aboo Hamed. They are shallow pools of exceedingly bitter water, quite unfit for men to drink, but not injurious to camels. Doctor Bronson tasted the water, and said the bitterness was caused by sulphate of magnesia, commonly known as Epsom salts. Frank and Fred were curious to try it, but their curiosity was easily satisfied. A few drops on the tongue made a burning sensation, which did not show a disposition to go away immediately. The tents were pitched a short distance from the wells and close to an encampment of Arabs, who were spending two or three days there to refresh their camels. Around some of the pools there was a little vegetation, but not enough to furnish a good meal for a hungry animal; there were a few stunted palms in the valley, and the lines on the sand showed that at some former time a river flowed there. The camels drank freely of the water, and evidently understood that they must lay in a supply for the rest of the journey to the Nile. [Illustration: SCENE AT THE WELLS.] They left the wells early in the morning, and after a few hours found themselves on a broad, sandy plain, where the thermometer at two o'clock in the afternoon stood at 100°. It was the greatest heat they had found since leaving the Nile. Frank kept the record of the temperature, and reported to the Doctor each evening the result of his observations. In the morning it was chilly; the Arabs shivered in all their wrappings, and our friends sought shelter in their overcoats for the early part of the ride, but invariably laid them aside when the sun was a couple of hours above the horizon. By noon they were in their lightest garments, and so continued till evening, when the air grew cool again. There was a daily variation of not far from forty degrees between the highest and lowest readings of the thermometer. The lowest record was 50°, and the highest 100°; but these did not occur on the same day. The boys were not slow to understand why the Doctor had made such a liberal provision of blankets, and were greatly obliged to him for his forethought. As they approached the Nile, Frank and Fred vied with each other to get the first glimpse of the great river. The mirage was all around them, and the boys were several times deceived by it, until Abdul came to their assistance. "I will give you a rule," said he, "by which you can always tell a real lake or river from an imaginary one. In a mirage the imaginary lake is of the same color as the sky above it, while the Nile is of a deeper blue. You will rarely, if ever, find the sky and water of the same hue when the sun is shining, and this is the only time when the mirage appears. With this simple rule in mind, you are not likely to be deceived." [Illustration: MOUNTAIN PASS IN THE DESERT.] While they were talking Fred made good use of his eyes, and suddenly pointed ahead to a little cleft in the line of rocky hills. There was a strip of blue which did not resemble the sky in color, and he felt certain it was the Nile. "You are right," said Abdul, "and that is the Nile. We will make our camp to-night on its banks." Soon a fringe of palm-trees came into sight; the blue streak increased to a broad expanse of water, and the line of palms into a grove. Then they came among fields of beans and other green things, and before sunset they stood on the bank of the river, and drank freely of the water, which Ali brought them in a large bowl. It was a great improvement upon the warm and strongly flavored water which had been their only resource for eight long days, and they both declared it the sweetest draught they had ever taken. "You can understand now, better than ever before," said the Doctor, "why the Arabs seem to worship the Nile, and why the ancient Egyptians regarded it as a divinity. Without it all this part of Africa would be like the desert we have just passed, and existence here would be impossible." "And I understand, too," responded Fred, "why the Arab conception of Paradise abounds in rivers of never-failing water. Mohammed wrote from his own experience, as he lived among the deserts of Arabia." An Arab merchant, with whom Abdul was acquainted, came to offer the shelter of his house to the strangers; but they preferred their tents, and told the dragoman to thank him for his offer and decline it. Frank proposed a swim in the river, which was seconded by Fred. Abdul suggested the possibility of an interview with a crocodile, and the swim was indefinitely postponed. Crocodiles are numerous in this part of the river, and in fact all the way from the second Cataract to the equatorial lakes. They are by no means timid, and the stranger should think twice before venturing into the river. Abdul told the boys that it was not unusual for crocodiles to be counted by dozens on the sand-banks in the upper Nile; on one occasion he saw more than fifty together, and they did not show a disposition to slide into the water till he was within twenty yards of them. Sometimes, when boats were overturned in the river, the unfortunate victims of the upset were eaten by the hideous reptiles; and they occasionally came close to the bank and seized women or girls who were filling water-jars from the stream. Of course the youths were seized with a desire to shoot a crocodile, and eagerly asked the Doctor if there would be an opportunity for a hunting expedition. Doctor Bronson said they would remain a day at Aboo Hamed, and he had no objection to their trying their skill if the game could be found. Abdul went in search of his merchant friend, and the business was soon arranged. There was a sand-bank a little way up the river, where the crocodiles came out to sun themselves, and he thought they could get a shot or two by going there on the following morning. Their sleep that night was disturbed by dreams of monster saurians. Frank waked with a start, under the impression that he was being swallowed feet foremost by a crocodile; he found, on coming to his senses, that the blankets had rolled away from his feet and allowed the cold air to fall on them, and it was the change of temperature that had given him the impression of being devoured. Fred dreamed of falling into the water from a boat, and finding himself where the river was full of hungry crocodiles; the reality was that he had rolled from his couch, and upset a water-jar which Ali had placed ready for his use in the morning. After breakfast they left for the crocodile hunt, the party consisting of Frank and Fred, with Ali, the latter going as interpreter. One of the camel-drivers went along, and there were at least a dozen Arabs who followed, in the hope of earning or begging something from the young hunters. When they reached the sand-bank a single crocodile was seen by one of the Arabs, who pointed it out to the youths. A friendly dispute followed, to determine who should have the first shot, which would probably be the only one. The choice fell upon Frank, and, as soon as it was determined, he motioned the others to remain quiet while he crept slowly in the direction of the prize. Armed with his rifle, he went slowly along the sand till within about sixty yards of the crocodile; at this moment the creature raised his head and looked around, but as Frank lay perfectly still the proximity of danger was not discovered. The reptile settled to sleep again, and when he had been lying quiet a couple of minutes Frank advanced as before. The eye and the shoulder are the only vulnerable points of the crocodile. As the eye was closed its position was not easy to make out, and so Frank determined on shooting at the shoulder. He took deliberate aim and fired. The crocodile gave one convulsive motion and stretched himself on the sand. Evidently Frank's shot had been well aimed. The youth was about to run forward to examine his game, but was restrained by a shout from Ali, telling him to wait for the Arabs. They came up at the top of their speed. "They say you must be careful," said Ali, "as the crocodile may not be dead. He will lie quite still awhile, and when you don't expect it he thrashes his tail round and opens his jaws." Thus cautioned, Frank went more slowly, accompanied by the rest of the party. To make the thing certain, Fred put a bullet through the crocodile's eye, and Frank added another from the opposite side. At each of these shots there was a slight movement of the creature's muscles, but nothing that appeared dangerous. The boys told the Arabs they might do what they pleased with the carcass. It was of very little consequence, as the flesh is not fit to eat, but the skin and teeth can occasionally be sold to a traveller who desires to take home a trophy, and has not been fortunate in bagging any game of his own. While one of them went for a rope the rest sat down and waited; the boys followed their example, hoping another crocodile would show himself, and give Fred a chance to try his skill; but nothing appeared. [Illustration: DRAGGING A CROCODILE TO LAND.] When the man returned with the rope the party set at work to drag their prize to the solid ground. They were very cautious in approaching him, but finally managed to get the rope around his neck. As soon as they commenced pulling, the legs and tail began to move, the tail swinging from side to side in a way that would have been dangerous to any one within its reach. The men hauled away vigorously, and, despite the opposition of the crocodile, they soon removed him from the narrow strip of sand and had him safe on the main bank. A blow from a hatchet finished the work of the boys, and the crocodile lay dead on the ground. By means of the rope his length was ascertained, and then the youths returned to the village. They told the story of their adventure to the Doctor, who measured the rope, and found that the crocodile was only a few inches short of fifteen feet long. "It's a very good one," said Abdul, "but I've seen 'em eighteen or twenty feet long. The great fellows are no more dangerous than the smaller ones, as a crocodile ten feet long can drag a man under water and hold him there till he is drowned." [Illustration: SECURING A SUPPER.] Abdul said that one day, while the men of Baker Pacha's party were working among some masses of reeds that the river had piled up, they felt something moving under their feet. They got away from the spot as soon as possible, and a moment afterward the head of a crocodile was thrust up from below. His body was tangled in the reeds, and before he could get free the men attacked him. He was unable to use his tail, and so was at their mercy; "and you may be sure," he continued, "nobody has any mercy for a crocodile. Besides, the men were negroes from the Soudan country, and, unlike the Arabs, they had no scruple in eating the flesh. They made short work of him, and had a good supper that night, in addition to the sport of killing their natural enemy." Abdul said that the number of natives killed by crocodiles every year along the upper part of the Nile must be quite large. Every few days a death from this cause occurs in nearly every town or village. The careless habits of the people are greatly in the crocodile's favor, and he has no scruples about taking them as near his heart as the position of his stomach will permit. When a large crocodile is killed and dissected the proof of his misdeeds is generally discovered, in the shape of anklets and other silver ornaments worn by his unfortunate victims, and which remain of course undigested. The crocodile does not eat his game on the spot where he captures it; his habit is to drag it to a secluded place and take his time in devouring it. In this respect he differs from his marine cousin, the shark, who bolts his prey at once, and then, like Oliver Twist, looks around for more. CHAPTER IV. BERBER AND SHENDY.--HUNTING THE HIPPOPOTAMUS.--TERRIBLE REVENGE OF AN ETHIOPIAN KING. The adventure with the crocodile had consumed the entire forenoon, and the boys were ready for a well-earned rest of a couple of hours. In the afternoon they crossed the Nile to the island of Mokrat, which lies opposite Aboo Hamed, and is about twenty miles long. The fields of cotton, beans, dourah, and other Egyptian products were in marked contrast to the desert, and the dark-green foliage of the palm and sycamore trees were a grateful sight to the eyes of the young travellers after their eight days' travel where no verdure could be seen. Frank said the only green things in the desert were themselves, but the Doctor told him the joke was old enough to be allowed to rest. "Bayard Taylor made it in 1851," he remarked, "and nearly every traveller since his time has repeated it." While they were crossing the stream on their way to the island a crocodile showed his head close to them, but immediately disappeared from sight. Fred thought he must have heard of their slaughter of one of his kindred, and therefore showed prudence in going away. He was in no danger, as they had left their rifles at Aboo Hamed, and were quite without the appliances for capturing a fresh prize. Abdul said they might possibly see a hippopotamus, and, in the hope of finding one, he took them to a part of the island where these amphibious beasts are said to come ashore. There were several broad tracks in the sand, and one of the natives showed where his field had been seriously injured by these disagreeable visitors. The visit to the spot naturally led to stories of the chase of these animals. Doctor Bronson had never hunted the hippopotamus, but he informed the boys concerning the character of the beast and his place in natural history. "He is a curious product of nature," said the Doctor, "and his name comes from two Greek words meaning 'river-horse.' The name describes him very fairly, though not accurately. He makes his home in the river, but can hardly be ranked with the horse. His head reminds one of the hog, while the body resembles, to some extent, that of the ox. His motions are generally sluggish, but he possesses great strength, which he is not slow to use. [Illustration: THE HOME OF BEHEMOTH.] "He lives upon vegetable food, and his feet are provided with toes instead of hoofs. In the daytime he remains concealed in the water, or among the reeds, and his depredations in search of food are committed at night. He is the 'behemoth' of the Bible, and his common name among the people where he abounds is 'sea-cow.'" "He is more valuable than the crocodile," continued the Doctor, "and likewise he is more dangerous to pursue. The crocodile is harmless, unless you come within reach of his tail or jaws, and when attacked, his whole effort is to get away. The hippopotamus will show fight when attacked, particularly if it happens to be a mother with young." "I'll tell you about a fight with one," said Abdul, "as soon as the Doctor has finished with his description of the animal." "The flesh of the sea-cow resembles pork," Doctor Bronson continued. "The skin is tough and thick, and is made into those terrible whips which are called _courbashes_ by the Arabs, and are used all over Africa. It can also be used for the soles of sandals and boots, and for helmets, shields, and other defensive things. It is not easy to send a bullet through it, and an old hippopotamus is nearly as impenetrable as the side of a locomotive engine. The teeth are valuable, as they are an excellent ivory, and for some purposes surpass the tusk of the elephant. So much for the value of the hippopotamus; and now for the story of Abdul's fight with one." [Illustration: AN AFRICAN RIVER SCENE.] "Twenty years ago," said the dragoman, "there were more of these animals here than now, and there were also more crocodiles. In the neighborhood of Khartoum the river was full of them, and if you went out just at daybreak, in certain localities, you might see dozens of them in a single morning. The crocodile and the hippopotamus do not get along well together, and sometimes they have savage fights; but more frequently they mind their own business, and you may see them swimming peaceably side by side. Where both are so well able to take care of themselves they are not very likely to quarrel. "The river full of these animals and the air full of birds made a very lively picture. Anybody who was fond of hunting could get all the sport he wanted. "One morning I went out with an English gentleman whom I had accompanied from Cairo. He was an excellent shot, and on his way up the river had killed no less than seven crocodiles, which he secured, in addition to at least a dozen that had escaped into the water after being mortally wounded. He was anxious to kill a hippopotamus, and I promised to give him the opportunity. "We went quietly along till we reached one of their haunts, where we brought the boat to land. Creeping through the reeds, I caught sight of a large sea-cow eating her breakfast and quite unconscious of danger. I beckoned to the gentleman, who came forward cautiously to get a good position for firing. "He worked around till he thought he had the proper aim and then fired. His shot was not fatal, and she turned with a roar that was something like the squeal of a hog, though much deeper and louder. "At the same moment I saw her calf, which had been lying on the ground, and then I knew she would face and fight us. If she had been without young, her first move would have been to rush for shelter in the water. "I stumbled and fell, but was up again in an instant. Luckily for me the hippopotamus is clumsy on land though quite agile in the water, and I was getting nicely out of the way when my foot caught in a tangle of reeds and I was down again. [Illustration: A NARROW ESCAPE.] "This time the animal reached me, and opened its great jaws as if to swallow me at one gulp. I thought I was lost, but at that moment another bullet from the gentleman's rifle called her attention the other way. "Another bullet followed, and then the beast turned toward the water; but she had been struck in a vital part, and fell before getting to the river. The calf did not run away, but stayed by its mother. It was too large for us to capture alive, and so we killed it, or rather the Englishman did. We had a good deal of trouble getting the boatmen to help us carry the prizes to the bank, as they were all afraid of being attacked if they ventured away from the water. "At another time two Englishmen went out in a boat with a negro who was to ferry them over the river. While they were crossing they wounded a calf. The little fellow bellowed at the top of his voice and his mother made a rush at the boat, dragging the stern under water and giving them a narrow escape from drowning; but in attacking the boat she raised herself half out of water, so that they had good aim at her at very close range. A couple of bullets made her loosen her hold on the boat and drop again into the river. "In the interior of Africa," Abdul continued, "the natives hunt the hippopotamus in two or three ways. They set pitfalls for him so that a heavy spear falls on his back when he is travelling along a path in search of food. When he has found a good feeding-ground in somebody's field, and has spent the night there, he is liable to come again the next night, and so the natives feel pretty certain of securing him when they set a trap. But it has to be arranged very skilfully, as he is a cautious brute, and very apt to discover the disturbance of the bushes or trees. [Illustration: HIPPOPOTAMUS SPEARS.] "Another mode of hunting them is with the spear, and for this purpose it is made with a very strong barb that will hold in the skin, and has a handle eight or ten feet long. Three or four of the natives get on a raft of reeds and float slowly along in perfect silence till they reach the spot where the hippopotamus is supposed to lie. "The animal when undisturbed is generally found with his nose just above the water, while his body is concealed beneath it and resting on the bottom of the river. The raft drifts along till it touches the nose of the sleeper; he rises up and brings his back above the surface, so that his assailants have good aim at it. [Illustration: SPEARING THE RIVER-HORSE.] "Down come the heavy spears into his thick hide; the barbs get good hold under the skin, and then the natives paddle the raft to land, and fasten the ropes of the harpoons to the nearest trees or to a strong stake hastily driven into the ground. "The animal is their prize, as he cannot tear out the harpoons or break the ropes, and his enemies are out of his reach. They sit down and wait for him to exhaust his strength by struggling, and then he can be finished with spears and knives, as they are unprovided with fire-arms. I have seen several of these animals captured in this way; the only danger is that he may upset them before they have taken the ropes to land and made them fast." By the time Abdul's story was ended the boat was back at the landing-place in front of Aboo Hamed, and in a few minutes the boys were once more in their tents. Their excursion had given them a keen relish for supper, which consisted of a stew of mutton from a sheep which Abdul had bought before they started for Mokrat. Whenever it was possible to obtain food by purchase they did so, and preserved their canned provisions against such times as they should need them in the heart of Africa. They had expected to go by river from Aboo Hamed to Berber, but unfortunately there was no boat to be hired, and therefore a new bargain was made with the camel-drivers to continue the journey by land. The boys had become accustomed to the Arab mode of travel, and did not particularly regret the absence of a boat. The dragoman told the Doctor that they would get along faster and cheaper with the camels than with a boat, as there was a cataract to be passed about half way on the route, where they would be subject to delay and the inevitable demand of the natives for backsheesh. The day's halt had refreshed the camels and their riders, and early the second morning the procession wound along the road as gayly as it had departed from Korosko. Much of the way the route was along the bank of the Nile, sometimes in the desert sands, and sometimes among rich fields where the natives were at work attending to their crops, or lying idle in the warm sun. Occasionally a bend of the stream caused the caravan to take a short cut of several hours among rocky ridges or over stretches of yellow sand that reflected a painful glare to unprotected eyes. The camp was made each night on the bank of the Nile, and generally in the neighborhood of a village. The inhabitants were miserably poor, and it was difficult to buy anything more than a few vegetables and eggs, and possibly a lean and unattractive chicken. The natives are heavily oppressed with taxation, and frequently their goods are taken from them by the Egyptian officials, and they receive no payment in return. Several times they fled as our friends approached, and it was not an easy matter to assure them they would not be harmed. Several times the party had glimpses of gazelles that abound in this region, but have been hunted so much that they are very shy. Frank and Fred were eager for a gazelle hunt, but it was not deemed advisable to halt the caravan sufficiently long to accommodate them. Their chances of success were very slight, from the wildness of the game and their inexperience, and a very little argument induced them to postpone the chase till they were more certain of bringing something home that would make a good dinner. Abdul told them there were formerly wild asses in the Wady El-Homar; they subsisted on the hard, thorny grass that grows there, but were very fleet and shy, so that they were rarely caught except by stratagem. The wady, or valley, is a pass among the hills which come down to the river in long ridges, and are destitute of water except in the season of rains. As they approached Berber the sterility of the scene diminished, though the travellers were not out of the desert until near the city. On the other side of the river the fields stretched away for a long distance, and Frank remarked that the picture reminded him of the delta of the Nile in the neighborhood of Cairo. They met or passed crowds of people going between Berber and the surrounding villages, many on foot, and others mounted on camels and donkeys, the latter being the most numerous. As they passed the mud walls and entered the city, the attention of our youthful friends was centred on the people rather than on the architecture of the place. The houses were not unlike those of the towns of Lower Egypt, but the inhabitants were quite different in appearance, and both Frank and Fred remarked that they were in a new country. [Illustration: A BERBER ARAB.] The people were of a darker color than those they had seen farther down the river. Three-fourths of them were Nubians and Ethiopians of various tribes and kinds, and the remainder included Arabs from the desert, soldiers from Cairo and Alexandria, a few Copts and native Egyptians, and a small number of individuals whom it was very difficult to classify. Berber is the centre of a considerable trade with the Lower Nile and the coast of the Red Sea on one hand, and the Upper Nile and Central Africa on the other; consequently, its streets are the meeting-place of many tribes that roam over a large extent of country. Abdul told the boys that Berber had a population of about twenty thousand, and was formerly the capital of the Ethiopian kingdom of the same name. It is an important military point, and the government generally keeps a garrison of not less than a thousand soldiers in the fort which commands the town. These troops are intended less for the protection of the place than as a terror to the surrounding tribes, who sometimes show signs of insubordination, and are kept in order by the military presence. Frank thought the fort was not of much consequence, as its walls were of mud and brick, and could be battered down in a short time by a small army with artillery. Doctor Bronson said there was little probability of an army coming against it, as it was in the hands of the only military power in all that part of Africa. The fort was intended as a defence against the natives, and the few cannon they possessed were of antiquated pattern, and no match for the modern weapons of the Egyptian army. [Illustration: SHEEP OF BERBER.] Outside the walls were several encampments of caravans from Suakim, on the Red Sea, and from the country to the southward. The bank of the Nile was lined with boats, some loading or unloading their cargoes, and others lying idle and waiting for patrons or crews. Negotiations were opened with the owner of one of the largest boats for the transportation of Doctor Bronson's party to Khartoum. Before any conclusion was reached the business was brought to an end by the arrival of a steamboat from up the river, and the announcement that she would return a couple of days later. "For once we have found the Oriental policy of delay in our favor," the Doctor remarked, when telling the boys of the arrival of the steamer. "If the owner of that boat had been an Englishman or an American he would have closed the transaction in an hour or so, and we should have been obliged to go with him, or pay for breaking the contract. But he sat down and smoked his pipe, on the first interview and the second, without saying a word about business, and by the time he was ready for a third consultation I knew all about the steamboat, and had no farther need of his services." The steamer belonged to the Egyptian government, and before the Doctor's party could be allowed to travel by it the permission of the Governor of Berber was necessary. Fortunately, they were provided with letters from the high authorities at Cairo, and the permission was easily obtained. The baggage had been stored in the warehouse of a French merchant, to protect it from weather and thieves. As soon as the arrangements were completed for passage up the river the boxes and bales were taken to the steamboat and snugly stowed in the hold. As was naturally expected in this land of delays, the boat did not leave until a day after the appointed time, and the Doctor considered himself fortunate to get away so soon. Aided by the wind from the north she breasted the current of the Nile, and very soon the mud walls of Berber were left behind. The banks of the river showed signs of greater fertility than our friends had seen on their ride from Aboo Hamed; groves of palm-trees were numerous, and there were many fields of grain, cotton, and other growing things. Abdul said there had been great suffering in this region at different times, owing to bad government. At one time the Governor-general of the Soudan had caused the natives to be plundered, in order that he might secure a larger taxation than usual. Many villages were abandoned, the people fleeing to the interior to escape persecution, and neglecting agriculture altogether. When he passed up the river with Baker Pacha's expedition the country was almost destitute of inhabitants, and for miles and miles where formerly were prosperous villages not a native could be seen. The land here, like that lower down the Nile, is kept fertile by irrigation. The sakkiehs, or water-wheels, are turned by oxen, and their creaking is the reverse of musical. In some places they seem to form a continuous line along the banks, and in a distance of less than a mile Frank counted thirty-seven sakkiehs at work, besides nearly as many more lying idle. This part of the Nile might be made one of the most productive parts of Egypt, and it is to be hoped that a better government will control it than has been its ill-fortune since the days of Mohammed Ali to the present time. [Illustration: VIEW IN THE ATBARA VALLEY.] Abdul called the boys to look at the Atbara River. "It is noticeable," said the Doctor, "as the first tributary of the Nile above its entrance into the Mediterranean. For fifteen hundred miles this great river does not receive so much as the tiniest brook, a condition of things without parallel with any other river of the world." "The Atbara rises in Abyssinia," said Abdul, "near the base of two lofty mountains called Abba-Jaret and Amba-Hai. They are not far from the coast of the Red Sea, and one of the head streams of the Atbara is said to start as though intending to reach the coast, when it suddenly turns and flows toward the Nile. It is called Atbara only in the lower part of its course; higher up it is known as the Tacazze, and it runs through a country that would be very productive if it contained people to cultivate it." A short distance above the mouth of the Atbara they passed Damer, a town situated on the point of land between the Nile and its tributary stream. Abdul said it was not unlike Berber, but smaller, and they were not losing much in passing it without stopping. They stopped a couple of hours at Shendy, to take in fuel for the steamboat, and the delay was utilized by our friends to obtain a glimpse of the town. As they walked through the streets, formed by rows of mud houses, with here and there a building of more pretentious character, the Doctor told his young companions of a terrible incident in its history. "Shendy was formerly the capital of the Soudan country," said the Doctor, "and had an important trade with Darfoor and other countries of Central Africa. After the conquest of Egypt Mohammed Ali sent his son, Ismail Pacha, to demand the submission of Mek Nemr, the King of Ethiopia, who ruled at Shendy, and had received the nickname of 'The Leopard,' on account of his ferocity. "Ismail Pacha made his camp outside the walls of Shendy, and sent for the king to come to see him. He demanded hay for his horses and camels and food for his troops. The king said it was impossible to meet the demand, as his people were poor and the season had been very bad. "The Egyptian became angry and struck the king over the head with the stem of his chibouk. The king bowed his head, as if frightened, and said his people should bring all that was asked for, and more besides. "All night long the king's people were busy bringing hay for the horses and camels and piling it around the camp. The largest heaps were in front of the tents of the Pacha and his officers, and they remarked that the Ethiopian king had evidently been thoroughly frightened into submission, and would hereafter be obedient to his rulers. "At daybreak there was a change of the scene. "Suddenly the whole circle of forage was in a blaze. Ismail Pacha and his officers and soldiers attempted to save themselves by flight. As they ran from the flames that threatened them they were met by the lances of hundreds of Ethiopian warriors, who gave them the alternative of being speared or roasted. "Not one of all the party escaped. When Mohammed Ali heard of the death of his son he sent an army to destroy Shendy, and not leave one stone standing on another. The town was razed to the ground, but 'The Leopard' was not seized; he fled into the interior, and never fell into the hands of the Egyptians. This happened in 1822. A new town was started on the site of the old one, but it has never gained its former greatness. The capital of the country was moved to Khartoum, and that place has become the centre of trade on this part of the Nile." The spot where Ismail Pacha met his death at the hands of the ferocious King of Ethiopia was pointed out by Abdul. The boys looked in vain for any traces of the camp, but the dragoman assured them there could be little doubt of the locality, and none as to the correctness of the story. [Illustration: AN ETHIOPIAN KING.] CHAPTER V. LIFE IN KHARTOUM.--DEPARTURE FOR GONDOKORO. From Shendy to Khartoum there was little change of landscape. The country increased in fertility, and Abdul informed the travellers that they were every hour getting farther into the region of periodical rains. The grasses grew without irrigation, and, only the strip of land near the river, where beans and other garden products were raised, required artificial watering. The people keep large flocks of sheep and goats, and our friends had practical knowledge of this fact in the ease with which they could purchase mutton at the landing-places. Mountains appeared in the distance, and were a great relief to the eye after the flat and wearisome plains. Frank and Fred were watching for the junction of the Blue and White Nile. Before coming in sight of the point where the rivers unite they became aware of its proximity by the appearance of the water. The White Nile was of a grayish color, while the other stream was several degrees darker in hue. Doctor Bronson said he was reminded of the confluence of the Ohio with the Mississippi, or of the latter river with the Missouri. There is an island just below the point of land where Khartoum is built, and boats may pass from one river to the other above this island. There is usually very little current through the channel, so that the actual junction is considerably farther down. [Illustration: ARRIVAL AT KHARTOUM.] The man at the helm directed the steamer up the Blue Nile, and turned her prow toward a stone embankment in front of several large buildings. There were two or three groups of these buildings, and as the boat steamed onward Abdul described them to the strangers. "On the left," said he, "is the Governor's palace, and close by it are the residences of the principal officials; to the right are other government buildings, and then farther away are the habitations of the foreign consuls and other persons of distinction. The front of Khartoum is more attractive than the interior, and if you want to retain the best impression of the place you would do well not to go on shore at all." This did not suit the desires of our young friends, and they declined asking the captain of the boat to pass Khartoum without stopping. Probably he would have laughed at the request, or gravely referred it to the commanding officer on shore. The steamer stopped at the foot of the stone embankment, and as soon as the plank was out the three travellers mounted the steps to the top of the low bluff. Abdul and Ali remained to look after the baggage and arrange for its storage, while Doctor Bronson went to call upon Mr. Jenquel, a German merchant, to whom he had letters of introduction. Mr. Jenquel was out at the time; but his partner received the strangers kindly, and speedily arranged for their being comfortably lodged during their stay. There is no hotel at Khartoum, and travellers are obliged to hire lodgings or accept the hospitality of the few Europeans living in the place. They took a stroll through Khartoum in company with their new-found friend, and saw many things to attract their attention. The street near the river was well shaded with palm and other trees, and they passed several gardens of citron and orange trees, whose fruit seemed to invite immediate plucking and devouring. They found the older part of the town made up of narrow and crooked streets, and had several narrow escapes from being knocked down by camels that moved along the way as if it belonged to no one but themselves. After dodging several times to avoid the ponderous beasts Frank asked where they came from, and what they were carrying. "They are mostly from the Atmoor, or desert of Korosko," was the reply, "and their burdens consist of European goods intended for the African market." "These goods are about the same as we are carrying for paying our way in Africa," said the Doctor. "Cotton cloths, beads, knives, small tools, and a lot of toys and gewgaws constitute the staple of African supplies. The merchants in Khartoum fit out the wandering traders, and send them into the interior for ivory, gum, ostrich feathers, and the other products of the country that will bear a high rate of transportation. The chief article is ivory, and the trade of Khartoum sometimes amounts to a million dollars a year in ivory alone. Latterly it is said to have declined, owing to the diminished number of elephants and the difficulty of capturing them. [Illustration: ELEPHANTS AT HOME--SHAKING A FRUIT-TREE.] "From present indications," the Doctor continued, "the elephant seems destined to follow the fate of the buffalo in America and disappear before many years. Formerly he was pursued only by the natives, who were unprovided with fire-arms and relied upon their spears and arrows, and also on pitfalls and other rude contrivances. His sagacity enables him to elude the latter, except in rare instances, and his great strength was in favor of his safety from primitive weapons. But since the white man has entered the field, and especially since the invention of rifles that kill at long distances, and carry explosive bullets, the days of the elephant are numbered. Strength and sagacity are of little avail against modern weapons and their murderous accessories, and if the elephant survives the American bison, it is only because the African continent has been settled more slowly than our own. "If you look on the map you will see that Khartoum is at the end of the caravan route from Kordofan and Darfoor; consequently some of the camels you have been dodging may have come from those countries as well as from the desert of Korosko. Then there is the route by the river, both south and north, and also along the Blue Nile. It is the intention of the Egyptian government to bring the Soudan railway to Khartoum, and it is not impossible that a decade or so hence we may travel in a Pullman car from Cairo to the spot where we are now standing."[3] [3] Since writing the above the author has received a letter from the American Consul-general at Cairo, in which it is stated that in consequence of the insurrection in the Soudan provinces the English government has been called upon to act with Egypt in restoring the authority of the latter country. Foreseeing the great difficulties in carrying troops and stores across the Desert to Khartoum, England is seriously considering the question of a railway between Suakim, on the Red Sea, and Berber, on the Nile. In addition to its political importance, the line would have great commercial advantages, as it would afford an outlet for the rich region between Khartoum and the equatorial lakes. "Just think of it!" exclaimed Fred; "riding by railway to Central Africa, only fifteen degrees north of the equator, and in the land of elephants and crocodiles!" His meditations were brought suddenly to an end by an encounter with another string of camels, followed by several negroes, who were closely watched by a swarthy Arab, armed with a large whip. [Illustration: PROFILES OF DINKA NEGROES.] "Those men are slaves," whispered their guide; "though the Arab in charge of them would declare he knew nothing about them if you should ask him. They come from the southern country, and are of the tribe of Dinka negroes. The Dinkas are greatly liked as slaves, and bring a higher price than those from other tribes. "You see they are not tied together, or in any way restrained; but if they should try to run away they would get some sharp blows of the whip, and the Arabs that are loitering about would hinder their escape. The police would not interfere to assist either party. The slave has few friends, while all the Arabs are interested in keeping up the commerce, and are therefore the natural enemies of the captive. [Illustration: BRINGING A SLAVE TO MARKET.] "When the slave caravans are on the road the men and women are tied together, and frequently have wooden yokes around their necks, to keep them from running away. Carrying these heavy burdens, they move with difficulty, and their strength is so much exhausted that they are completely under the control of their captors." A couple of hours among the narrow streets of the old part of Khartoum, where their nostrils were constantly assailed by vile smells from the wretched drains, were quite enough for our friends, and they returned to the river bank. Their guide told them that the city was notoriously unhealthy, owing to its bad drainage. It had been fatal to a great many Europeans, and of late years the government had endeavored to remedy the evil, but had not succeeded altogether. The population is a mixed lot of Arabs, Turks, Jews, Berbers, negroes, and Europeans. The latter are principally Greeks and Italians, engaged in selling European products to the native merchants, and some of them keep small shops for vending spirits and canned edibles. Altogether, Khartoum has a population of about thirty thousand, and is said to be steadily increasing with the growth of trade in Central Africa. Before the destruction of Shendy it was a place of little importance; but when the capital of the Soudan was transferred to Khartoum, in 1822, it rose rapidly in importance, and has been greatly helped by its geographical position. Returning to the establishment of Mr. Jenquel, they found that gentleman, who received them cordially, and said they must dine at his house, which was a short distance from his place of business. Dinner would be ready in an hour, and meanwhile he would show them how he lived in Khartoum. They went to the house at once, and their host said they might take his dwelling for a fair specimen of the best class of houses in Khartoum. It stood in a yard or garden about five hundred feet square, and surrounded by a mud wall eight or nine feet high, and nearly half as thick. The house was nearly two hundred feet square, with a court-yard in the centre; the part of the building nearest the entrance was two stories high, but the remainder was only one story. Stairways are objectionable in hot countries, as the exertion of climbing is too much for human endurance, and elevators have not yet penetrated into Africa. The upper story was occupied by Mr. Jenquel and his amiable wife, while the ground-floor contained the dining-room and two or three apartments for visitors, together with the kitchen and the quarters of the servants. All the rooms were large and airy, and were fitted partly in European and partly in Arab style. There was a wide balcony surrounding the upper story, and it formed an agreeable lounging-place in the coolest hours of the day. Mrs. Jenquel proved to be a most charming lady, who spoke German and English with equal fluency. She had been only a short time in Khartoum, and was evidently not over-charmed with the place. She said there were only two European ladies besides herself in the city. There were no theatres, balls, parties, or other amusements, and altogether there was a great deal of monotony in the life she led. It was a relief to her when strangers came to visit them, and she welcomed with delight the presence of Doctor Bronson and the intelligent youths who accompanied him. Dinner was served in European style, the principal dish being roast mutton, preceded by soup and fish--the latter a species of salmon from the Blue Nile--and followed by a liberal supply of fruits. Among the latter were delicious oranges from the garden of the host, together with tamarinds, dates, custard-apples, and grapes. Our friends had made the acquaintance of the custard-apple in India, and found the product of Khartoum in no way inferior to that of Asia. Abdul came to announce that their lodgings were ready, and the baggage had been carefully landed and stored as previously arranged. When the proper time arrived they said "good-night" to their kind entertainers, and followed the dragoman to the house that had been secured for them. [Illustration: TREES NEAR THE RIVER.] It was not unlike the residence of Mr. Jenquel, though considerably smaller, and belonged to a merchant, who had gone to Cairo on business, and was not averse to the occupation of his house by suitable tenants during his absence. Half a dozen servants remained in charge, so that Doctor Bronson and the boys found themselves comfortably lodged, and as much at home as though the place was their own. Abdul was installed as chief manager, and the promise of a liberal backsheesh made everything right with the regular servants of the house. The party remained nearly two weeks at Khartoum, as the preparations for departure could not be made in a hurry. They were now at the last outpost of civilization, and their next move would carry them into the wilderness. The boys readily fell into their new life, and were very soon as familiar with Khartoum as though they had resided there a decade or two. They rose early every morning, and were generally off by sunrise for a ride in the country around Khartoum. Sometimes they were mounted on horses which Abdul had hired from a merchant who kept a large stable close to their residence, and sometimes on camels, that were readily procured from one of the encampments of the caravans. They found the horses less fatiguing than the "ships of the desert;" but occasionally they were treated to half-wild steeds, exceedingly hard on the bit, and having a strong tendency to run away with their young riders. One morning they had a lively run of nearly two hours on the broad plain south of Khartoum, their horses going at full gallop, and evidently in the mood for exercise. When they came to pull up their restive beasts they were nearly thrown from the saddles; and Frank said he could see no indications that his horse was wearied from the long race. Abdul said the horses came from Darfoor, and were anxious to get back again. They were fine animals, and worthy of all the praise bestowed by the Arabs on their favorite steeds. Fred afterward read the account which Bayard Taylor gives of his ride over this very plain, when he left his attendants far behind, though they were mounted on swift dromedaries, and made every exertion to keep close at his heels. The youth was decidedly of opinion that the animal he rode in the race with his cousin was in every respect the equal of the famous red stallion of the Austrian consul. [Illustration: VIEW NEAR THE EDGE OF THE TOWN.] The middle of the day was generally passed within doors, on account of the heat; the afternoon was devoted to business and visits, if any were to be made, and to walks in the town or along the banks of the two rivers which have their place of meeting just below the city. Then there were letters and journals to be written, maps to be studied, books to be read, and in various ways the time slipped pleasantly away. Fortunately for our friends, it happened that a government steamer was about to leave Khartoum with despatches for the Governor of the post at Gondokoro. By means of a telegram from the authorities at Cairo, and the judicious use of backsheesh in certain quarters, it was arranged that Doctor Bronson's party could take passage on this steamer. There was some difficulty about the baggage, as the captain of the boat (an Egyptian Arab) said it was impossible to carry it in addition to what was already ordered on government account. [Illustration: PREPARING DINNER.] Abdul invited the captain to dine with him, and the dinner was the best that could be prepared. It lasted until a late hour. Before it was over the whole matter was arranged, and the captain said he would carry the baggage of the party, even if he was obliged to stow it in his own room. The conversation was in Arabic, and we are therefore unable to say how the business was settled; but as Abdul excused himself once during the dinner, and asked the Doctor for five hundred francs in gold, it is fair to suppose that the negotiations were not unconnected with backsheesh. As they steamed away from Khartoum, Abdul said their solitary boat was quite a contrast to the fleet of Baker Pacha when he started from the same point for his famous expedition to suppress the slave-trade. [Illustration: BAKER'S EXPEDITION LEAVING KHARTOUM.] "Baker's expedition, as I before told you," said Abdul, "had two steamers and thirty-six sailing boats; and each of the steamers had a couple of dahabeeahs, or sailing-boats, in tow. It was a grand sight as we swept past the town, the steamers leading, with their tows, and the sailing-craft driving ahead with the strong north wind. Salutes were fired from the batteries in front of the palace, and the decks of our boats were crowded with men watching till the single minaret of Khartoum was lost in the distance. "The steamers pushed on with their tows, leaving the rest of the fleet to follow, and made the best of their way to Fashoda, the government post in the Shillook country, six hundred and eighteen miles by the river from Khartoum. Fashoda is the first place where we shall stop, except to take in wood for our engines, unless we meet with an accident that is not down in our programme." Frank and Fred watched the example of the soldiers of Baker's expedition and kept their eyes on the minaret of Khartoum till it faded and was blended with the horizon. Then they turned to look at the country around them. Their prow was pointed to the south, save where the windings of the river caused a temporary change of their course. The shores on either side were low, and generally flat, with here and there clumps of trees and little patches of grass. They were still in the region of the desert, but it was not altogether barren, like the great Atmoor of Korosko. Flocks of ducks and geese flew in the air or settled in the nooks along the shore; and now and then the ibis, the sacred bird of the Egyptians, showed his tall form on the sand-banks. Occasionally a crocodile lay basking in the sun, or the snort of a startled hippopotamus would be heard close to the boat. In the night the clear sky was studded with stars, and the youths lingered long on deck, studying the various constellations. The north star was nearly sunk to the horizon behind them, while in front the Southern Cross sparkled in all its glory, and recalled memories of their voyage from Singapore into the Java Sea. Once more they were approaching the equator, but with far greater difficulties before them. The steamboat held her course during the night, and in the morning our friends opened their eyes on a change of scene. [Illustration: A VILLAGE SCENE.] The monotonous plain had been left behind, and they were in a region of hills. More than this, the region was no longer a desert. The hills were studded with trees, and on the banks of the river there was a succession of forests and cultivated fields, quite unlike the picture presented below Khartoum. Droves of cattle and flocks of sheep and goats were numerous, and the conical huts of the natives had no resemblance to the flat-roofed dwellings of Lower Egypt. Occasionally a train of camels was visible, wending its stately way along, and making a sharp contrast to the droves of diminutive donkeys peculiar to this part of the Nile. Where the boat went close to the banks the boys several times discovered monkeys playing among the branches of the trees, and Frank would have made no objection if they had halted long enough to capture one of the amusing beasts. A mountain-range appeared in the distance; the vegetation steadily increased in luxuriance; and the boys became fully aware that they were nearing THE HEART OF AFRICA. [Illustration: THE HEART OF AFRICA.] CHAPTER VI. AMONG THE SHILLOOK NEGROES.--ARRIVAL AT FASHODA.--EXPLORERS OF THE NILE. On the second day from Khartoum, Doctor Bronson told the boys they were in the country of the Shillooks. The natural inquiry that followed this announcement was, "Who are the Shillooks?" "They are a large tribe of negroes, living along the White Nile," replied the Doctor, "and are thought to number nearly, if not quite, three millions. For more than two hundred miles their villages are scattered along the river, forming an almost continuous line. They live partly by hunting and fishing, and formerly they made quite a revenue by selling slaves to the dealers who came from Khartoum and other parts of Egypt. "They made war upon neighboring tribes farther back from the river, and sold their prisoners into slavery; and sometimes they sold their own people. It was not unusual for a Shillook to sell his own children when a good price was offered, especially if his family was large and his affairs were not prosperous." Frank asked if they could land among the Shillooks and see how they lived. Doctor Bronson said it was not altogether safe to go among them, as they have been badly treated by the Turks and Egyptians, and are not specially friendly. As the Doctor was speaking the steamer rounded the point of an island, and the dragoman called their attention to a number of conical huts of grass among the low trees near the shore. "That is a Shillook village," said Abdul, "and several of the inhabitants are standing by the edge of the river." The boys ran below for their glasses, and were back again in a few moments. They made out the negroes to be tall, well-formed men, most of them fully six feet in height, and entirely without clothing, with the exception of two, who had strips of cloth around their waists. Abdul said the full dress of the Shillooks was a waist-cloth and a string of beads, but they were not always particular about arraying themselves. [Illustration: A BIRD OF THE WHITE NILE.] Back of the village was a field of cotton and another of beans, and there was every indication that the Shillooks had a fertile soil to cultivate. Abdul said their products were the same as near Khartoum, but they had very few fruit-trees, and their gardens were not carefully tilled. The steamer stopped near one of the villages to take wood, and after a consultation with the captain Abdul said the boys could go on shore, but must not wander from the immediate vicinity of the boat. The Shillooks are apt to be treacherous, and sometimes a lance or an arrow is sent from the bushes when there is nothing to indicate the presence of danger. When kindly treated their confidence is easily secured, but they have been subject to so much ill-usage at the hands of the slave-dealers that it is no wonder they are suspicious. They are said to be honest in their dealings, though excellent hands at a bargain, and as ready to tell a deliberate falsehood as the most accomplished shopkeeper in London or New York. They have no manufactures, and the articles most in demand among them are cheap cotton cloths and pieces of iron, from which they make the heads of their spears. As the steamboat neared the landing several natives paddled out to meet it, and the boys were much interested in the rafts, which the Shillooks manage with a great deal of skill. "Those rafts are made from the ambatch plant," said Abdul. "It is a reed like the bamboo, with hollow spaces between the joints, and is very light and strong. The ambatch narrows toward the top, and to make a raft of the plants all that is necessary is to fasten a couple of dozen of them together at the ends and turn the smaller extremity upward. [Illustration: AN AMBATCH CANOE.] "The ambatch raft or canoe," he continued, "is in use all along the White Nile, and it would be difficult to find a more serviceable craft. It cannot be sunk, and if a man balances himself properly there is little danger of an upset." "They are useful in war as well as in peace," remarked Doctor Bronson, who was listening to the conversation. "Dr. Schweinfurth, in the account of his travels in Africa, tells how he was pursued by a whole fleet of Shillook canoes, and had a very narrow escape. He said not less than three thousand canoes were in motion along the river and pursuing the boat on which he was travelling. [Illustration: AN ADVENTURE ON THE NILE.] "The wind left them while the canoes were approaching, and for a while his position was very critical. Only the previous year five boats, coming down the river on their way to Khartoum, had stopped at the village they were passing and endeavored to buy some provisions. The natives brought fowls, honey, and other things to sell, and while the negotiations were going on a large fleet of canoes suddenly came around the point of land and attacked the strangers. "The captain of one boat and a sailor from another managed to escape by jumping into the river and swimming to a place of concealment among the reeds. The rest of the party, some eighty in all, were killed, and the vessels were plundered and burned. "Of course this incident was fresh in the mind of Dr. Schweinfurth, and you can imagine his despair when the wind ceased while the canoes were approaching. But 'all's well that ends well:' the wind suddenly blew again, their sail was unfurled, and they were carried out of danger in a little while. The disappointed Shillooks returned to the shore, and nothing more was seen of them. "Bayard Taylor visited the Shillooks in his journey here in 1852," the Doctor continued. "He came from Khartoum, with a single boat, manned by half a dozen sailors, and accompanied only by his dragoman. The only arms he carried was an old pistol, and he was represented by the captain of the boat to be a son of the Sultan of Turkey, who had come on a peaceful visit to the chief of the Shillooks." Frank asked if he was kindly received by them. "They were very surly at first," said Doctor Bronson, "and came down to the river-bank armed with spears and clubs. After some parley their chief stepped forward and asked if he wanted to fight. Mr. Taylor declared he was anxious for peace, and for that reason had come on shore without arms. The chief was not assured of his good intentions for some time, and there was an angry controversy among the men, which threatened for a while to result in open hostility; but nothing of the kind was attempted. Mr. Taylor stayed a couple of hours on shore, and just as the Shillooks began to show a familiarity bordering on insolence he suddenly returned to his boat and steered down the river the way he had come." "Then this was the southern limit of his journey, was it not?" Fred asked. "Yes; he came to the island of Aba, which lies about latitude 12° north, or two hundred and fifty miles from Khartoum. He was very anxious to push on to the south, but his contract with the owner of the boat was only for a journey to this island. At that time the highest point on the Nile to which any Europeans had ascended was about latitude 4° north, or four hundred and eighty miles beyond the island of Aba. Nothing was known about the sources of the Nile, and the general impression among geographers was that the river rose at the base of Mount Kilimandjaro, in the third degree of south latitude. Some geographers had thought it possible that the Nile flowed from Lake N'yassi, but the idea was generally rejected. 'Since Columbus first looked upon San Salvador,' wrote Mr. Taylor in his journal, 'the earth has but one emotion of triumph left in her bestowal, and that she reserves for him who shall first drink from the fountains of the White Nile, under the snow-fields of Kilimandjaro.'" "What great progress has been made since Mr. Taylor's time in the exploration of Africa!" Frank exclaimed, as the Doctor finished his last remark. "Yes," was the reply, "the progress in the last half of the nineteenth century has been greater than in the preceding twenty centuries. From the days of Herodotus--two thousand years ago--till within the present generation exploration of the valley of the Nile had accomplished very little. Syene, at the first Cataract of the Nile, was a city in the days of the ancient dynasties of Egypt; three thousand years ago the kingdoms of Ethiopia flourished, and their rulers had a prominent place in history. Time and time again men sought in vain to solve the mystery of the source of the Nile, and it was reserved for men of our day to make the great discovery." One of the boys asked to whom the honor belonged of ascertaining the source of the Nile. "That question is a conundrum," replied the Doctor, with a smile, "and a conundrum that needs an explanation before answering. The honor belongs to several explorers, and not to one alone. Each has made discoveries peculiarly his own, and these discoveries have supplemented the work of the rest. "As I have before told you, it was long supposed that the Blue Nile was the parent stream, and its sources were ascertained by James Bruce. The error of this belief was set forth after the death of Bruce, as the White Nile was found to be of greater volume than the Blue, and was explored to a point more distant from the junction of the two streams than were the springs of the Blue Nile. Mohammed Ali sent three expeditions to find the sources of the White Nile, but they failed in their efforts. Private expeditions were sent every few years, but with the same results. The heat, the fevers, the hostility of the natives, the difficulty of penetrating marshes and tropical forests, all conspired to frustrate their efforts. The first expedition of Mohammed Ali reached latitude 6° 30' north; the second went to 4° 42' north; and the third stopped at about 5° north. Dr. Knoblecher, in 1849, went to 4° 10' north, which was farther than any one else had gone. Miani, an Italian traveller, went to a point about 3° 32' north, and about the same time Dr. Schweinfurth explored the Bahr-el-Gazal, one of the tributaries of the White Nile, in the expectation that it might turn out to be the main stream. Miss Tinné, a Dutch lady, also explored that river, and spent more than a year in its valley." "What!" exclaimed one of the youths, "a lady going on an expedition in Africa! She must have been fond of adventure. Who was she?" "Miss Tinné was born in 1835, and was the daughter of a baroness, who had a large fortune. She was fond of travel, and in 1861 went to Cairo with her mother. She was so enamored of the East that she determined to remain there, and announced to her friends that she should not return to Europe to live. In 1862 she started from Khartoum with a steamboat, several sailing-boats, a large party of attendants, and so many beasts of burden of various kinds that the natives everywhere believed she was the daughter of the Sultan of Turkey. The only Europeans of her party were Dr. Steudner and Baron Von Henglin, and also her mother. The latter died of fever, and so did Dr. Steudner, before the return to Khartoum, which occupied some fourteen months after the departure of the expedition. "Miss Tinné on this journey explored the Bahr-el-Gazal, and made a great many notes and observations, which have been very useful to those who followed her. She had previously visited the White Nile as far as Gondokoro, and altogether she passed nearly three years in the work of exploration. In 1869 she organized an expedition at Tripoli, intending to pass through Moorzook and Bornoo, and reach the Nile by way of Kordofan, a route which up to that time had never been followed by a European. She had fifty attendants and seventy camels on this expedition, and her only European companions were two Dutch sailors. From Moorzook she went on a side-journey to the country of the Touaregs, and was treacherously murdered by her escort. The sailors who accompanied her were also murdered, and her native attendants were sold into slavery. "Let us return to the exploration of the White Nile," said Doctor Bronson. "While these discoverers were at work from the north others were approaching the Nile from the south, and it was from that direction the great secret was revealed. In 1856 Captains Speke and Burton, of the British army, started from Zanzibar for a journey into Africa, and on the 30th of July, 1858, Captain Speke discovered the Victoria N'yanza. "N'yanza is a native word, meaning lake, and, reduced to English, the body of water discovered by Speke may be called the Victoria Lake of Africa. Captain Speke was alone at the time of the discovery, his companion Burton being engaged in an exploration farther to the south. Speke was of the opinion that the lake he had found was the source of the Nile, but was unable to find its outlet, and so demonstrate the correctness of his theory. [Illustration: SPEKE AND GRANT IN CENTRAL AFRICA.] "In 1862 he revisited the lake, accompanied by Captain J. W. Grant, and this time he explored its northern part and found its outlet. A large river flowed northward from the lake, and at its head was a cataract, to which the explorer gave the name of Ripon Falls. The stream is now known on the maps as the Victoria Nile, or Somerset River, and may be considered the beginning of the great river of Egypt." "Then the Nile has its beginning at the outlet of the Victoria N'yanza?" said one of the boys. "Not exactly," was the reply. "The Somerset River, or Victoria Nile, flows northward into another lake, the Albert N'yanza, discovered in 1864 by Sir Samuel W. Baker. The Albert N'yanza is smaller than the Victoria N'yanza, and its outlet is the White Nile, on which we are now travelling. [Illustration: GROUP OF GANI MEN.] "You know what the showman said when the little girl asked which were the monkeys and which the hyenas?" "Yes," said Frank: "'Whichever you please, my dear. You pays your money, and you takes your choice.'" "It is somewhat that way with the origin of the Nile," answered the Doctor. "If the Victoria N'yanza is the source of the great river, you can give the credit of its discovery to Captain Speke; and if the outlet of the lake is technically the head of the river, the honor is divided between Speke and Grant. If the Albert N'yanza, and not the Victoria, is the source of the Nile--since the Bahr-el-Abiad, or White Nile, issues from it--then you must set Speke and Grant aside and award the palm of merit to Sir Samuel Baker." "But how about the rivers that flow into the Victoria N'yanza?" said Fred. "There must be several affluents of the lake, and the largest and longest of them might be called the true source of the Nile." "That is a matter which is not yet fully determined," was the reply. "Stanley circumnavigated the Victoria N'yanza in 1875, and found several streams flowing into it; but, as they have not all been traced to their sources, we cannot say with exactness which is the longest. Until this point is settled there will be a question in the minds of some very exact people as to the source of the Nile, but for all practical purposes the matter is determined already. To my way of thinking the Victoria N'yanza is the source of the Nile; and it is hardly worth our while to consider the streams that feed it, unless one of them should be found to be larger than all the others, as in the case of the Somerset River, flowing into the Albert N'yanza. [Illustration: KARUMA FALLS, ON THE VICTORIA NILE (SOMERSET RIVER).] "There is another lake, called Tanganyika, which lies south of the Victoria N'yanza, and was discovered by Burton and Speke in February, 1858. It was supposed that this lake discharged into the Victoria N'yanza, and this supposition was sustained by Dr. Livingstone against the opinions of other geographers. It is known that the level of Tanganyika is lower than the Victoria and Albert lakes, and therefore it cannot be the source of the Nile." The conversation came to an end as the plank was put to the shore, and the party stepped from the boat in the country of the Shillooks. The natives straggled slowly to the landing-place, but were evidently averse to an intimate acquaintance with the strangers. The majority were in the same airy costume that the boys had observed through their glasses, but some of them had added a veneering made of a paste of ashes mixed with water. This did not enhance their beauty; but as it was a fashion among them, and they evidently considered it correct, the strangers had no business to object. A few had rubbed their faces and necks with red ashes, which gave a ferocious tinge to their countenances, and was evidently regarded as an indication of bravery. Nearly every one wore an armlet of metal or untanned leather above the elbow, and the most of the crowd were armed with spears. Some had strings of beads around their necks, and one, who seemed to have authority, was decorated with beads larger than those of his companions. The boys endeavored to make a trade for some of the arm-rings and spear-heads, but did not meet with much success. The natives refused to part with their spears, and the Doctor said that, like most savages, they probably had a superstition about selling their weapons, believing that by so doing they would bring misfortune upon themselves and their tribes. After some bickering, however, Frank secured an arm-ring of metal, while Fred bought one made of elephant-hide. The price in each case was a string of small beads, but the offers were refused half a dozen times before they were accepted. Trade is a slow business among people to whom time has no value. The whistle of the steamer brought the negotiations to an end, and in a few minutes the boat was under way again. Nothing of moment occurred from this point to Fashoda, the first military post above Khartoum, and the station of a _mudir_, or provincial governor. It is situated on a bluff sloping gently from the river. The Egyptian portion is surrounded by a mud-wall, and contains comfortable barracks for the officers and soldiers. There is a Shillook village just outside, the conical huts forming a marked contrast to the flat roofs of the substantial buildings erected by the government. [Illustration: VIEW OF FASHODA.] CHAPTER VII. AN ANTELOPE HUNT.--GUINEA-WORMS, WHITE ANTS, AND GREAT SNAKES. The steamer remained a day at Fashoda, and then proceeded on her voyage, her next halting-place being at the mouth of the Sobat, which is an affluent of the White Nile, and has its source in the mountains near the Indian Ocean. Its water is considered superior to that of the Nile for drinking purposes, and a supply was taken on board for the use of the passengers and crew. [Illustration: SCENE ON THE WHITE NILE ABOVE THE SOBAT.] They now entered a succession of marshes and low ground, where the river frequently divided into several channels, and was often partially blocked with great masses of weeds and other tropical vegetation. A short distance above the Sobat, Frank and Fred had their first view of a wild elephant, or rather of a troop of half a dozen or more. They were not at all disturbed by the proximity of the steamer. One was lying comfortably on the ground, and the rest stood watching the boat while it passed up the stream a few hundred yards from them. On the opposite bank of the river was a Shillook village, and beyond it the dry grass was burning furiously and sending up a vast column of smoke. The boys were much excited over their view of the elephants, and greatly wished they could land and take a shot at the beasts. Doctor Bronson told them they would have an opportunity to hunt elephants before many days, and with this assurance they were contented. Elephants roam the country on both banks of this part of the Nile, but they are less numerous than farther up the valley. They are hunted for their ivory by the natives, and occasionally the white man gets a chance at them. Every year they increase in scarcity and in shyness, so that the stranger's chance of sport among this huge game is not very good. Occasionally they visit the fields of the natives during the night, and do a great deal of damage by trampling down the crops and eating the growing plants. The negroes take advantage of their depredations to make pitfalls for them, and in this way a large elephant sometimes finds himself a prey to the hunter. As they ascended the Nile above the mouth of the Sobat, Abdul pointed out the spot where the "sudd" formerly obstructed the river, and caused great inconvenience. The sudd had been mentioned before, but only briefly, and one of the youths asked Abdul to describe it to them. "From here to Gondokoro," said Abdul, "a distance of nearly eight hundred miles, you will find the White Nile running through a series of marshes and lowlands; in many places it spreads out over a wide area, and forms a large number of channels among islands of greater or less extent. You have already observed that the grass and reeds come drifting with the current, and occasionally masses of them form to such an extent that they take the shape of floating islands. "This floating stuff sometimes becomes caught and imprisoned at low water, and it remains there, growing day by day, till the annual flood brings down so large a current that it is swept away. One year the flood was not sufficient to remove it, and it remained from one season till the next. "Then it increased till it fairly drove the river from its bed, or rather caused it to spread out and form new channels. It became a bog, through which the water percolated or ran in unknown channels, and furnishing a foundation for masses of vegetation, that sprung up and flourished under the effect of tropical heat and moisture. "This state of affairs continued for six or eight years, and the White Nile apparently ceased to exist, by reason of the great dam of reeds and other plants that choked the channel and made navigation impossible. This dam was the sudd of which we have been speaking. [Illustration: HAULING A STEAMBOAT THROUGH A CANAL CUT IN THE SUDD.] "It remained here when Baker Pacha ascended the Nile on his expedition for the suppression of the slave-trade. His advance was retarded for many months by the sudd; he was obliged to cut channels through it, and then haul his boats along from one strip of open water to another. Many of his men died from exposure and hard work in passing the sudd, and there were fears at one time that it would cause a total abandonment of the expedition. "The sudd was full of insects, that caused great suffering to all concerned, and the air at all times was thick with mosquitoes. One of the most dreaded pests was the 'guinea-worm,' that embeds itself in the feet or ankles, and produces a disagreeable and often dangerous sore. This worm is peculiar to the tropics, and is justly feared by all persons liable to its attacks. It makes a slight puncture in the skin--generally in or near the foot--and lays its eggs there. They are hatched in from two months to a year, and the puncture is so minute that its presence is not known until the eggs are developed." One of the boys asked if the worm ever caused the death of the person attacked. "Generally he escapes with a dreadful sore, that may be months in healing," said Doctor Bronson, who was standing near; "and not unfrequently he loses the foot or leg where the sore is developed. If the worm can be removed without breaking, and before it has created more than a small sore like a pimple, no serious harm results; but the operation is difficult, and requires great care on the part of both doctor and patient." "How is it performed?" Frank asked. "When the vesicle breaks," the Doctor answered, "the end of the worm shows itself and hangs outside. It is gently pulled and coiled round a piece of linen or a small stick, like a section of a toothpick, and then fastened over the wound with sticking-plaster and a compress. Twice a day the performance is repeated, and as much as possible of the worm is coiled away. It takes all the way from a fortnight to three or four months to remove a worm in this way. The worms vary from six inches to three yards in length, and their circumference is about that of small wrapping-twine. If a worm is broken in the process of extraction it is liable to cause inflammation, fever, deformities, loss of the limbs, mortification, and death. So you see it is not to be trifled with." "What a terrible scourge!" said one of the boys. "I shall take good care not to go into the water in the region where this worm abounds." "It has been known and mentioned in ancient as well as in modern writings," the Doctor continued; "and some authorities argue that the 'fiery serpents' which attacked the Israelites in the wilderness were in reality guinea-worms." "How could that be?" Fred exclaimed. "They could not be anything like serpents; and, besides, the pictures we have of the events of the Exodus show that the Israelites were bitten by something larger than the little threads you have described." "That is quite true," was the reply; "but bear in mind that the pictures in our books were not made at the time, but many centuries afterward. The words in the original Hebrew--which are translated in our version as 'fiery serpents'--refer unmistakably to something which caused an inflammatory wound, and do not describe the serpent any farther than this. By the Greeks the _Filaria_, or guinea-worm, was reckoned among the serpents, on account of its form as well as the results of its bite; and those who have studied the subject say that the theory is supported by the natural conditions of the country through which the Israelites passed, while the mortality among them can be accounted for by their ignorance of the proper treatment. From a scientific point of view, if not from a popular one, the subject is an interesting study." [Illustration: NESTS OF WHITE ANTS.] Doctor Bronson paused, as his attention was drawn to some conical mounds on the shore near which they were passing. "They are ant-hills," said the Doctor, after a brief survey. "They are made by the white ants, which are found in various parts of Africa, and display considerable skill in the construction of their homes." The steamer halted for wood at a point close to several of the mounds, and thus gave the youths an opportunity to examine them. They found the ant-hills varying in height from six to ten feet, and composed of a yellowish earth, nearly as hard as brick, and quite capable of resisting the action of the rain. Abdul said the ants used the yellow earth below the black soil on the surface. Their first move was to swallow it, and thus mix it with an albuminous matter from their bodies, so as to give it the character of cement. Then the substance was formed into the mound which rose above the level of the highest floods. When the river is low the black soil is uncovered, and the ants roam in the vicinity of the mounds; but at the time of the inundation the entire country is under water, with the exception of the mounds, which stand out like small islands. [Illustration: A HERD OF ANTELOPE.] From this point the ant-hills were numerous, and at the next halting-place a group of antelopes was seen, with one of its number stationed on a mound as a sentry. Finding the boat would be there a sufficient time to permit the experiment, Doctor Bronson determined to capture the sentinel, as an addition to the table of the steamer. Armed with his rifle, he started on foot, carefully keeping several ant-hills in range of the one where the sentry was standing, and never allowing himself more than a glimpse of the creature's horns. The sentinel did his duty thoroughly, and gave the Doctor no little trouble to approach without being discovered. Creeping slowly from hill to hill, he at last reached one about two hundred yards from that where the sentinel stood. The animal was motionless, with the exception of his head, which he turned from side to side occasionally, so as to take in the entire horizon. His side was toward his enemy, so that he offered an excellent mark. The rest of the herd was grazing near; but as the sentinel was larger and a better prize than any of his companions, the Doctor made no change of intention, and took aim at the one he had first marked as his own. The shot had its effect. As the smoke cleared away the antelope sunk to its knees for an instant, and then rolled to the ground, where it lay, quite dead. The balance of the herd fled, and the hunter, after reloading his rifle, ran forward to survey the effect of his shot. Mounting to the summit of the ant-hill, he waved his handkerchief three times, which had been agreed upon to announce a successful shot. As soon as the signal was seen four men were sent from the boat to carry away the game. The boys walked out to meet the Doctor and congratulate him on his morning's work, and also to see the dead antelope. Frank pronounced him "a beauty," and Fred said he was the finest animal of the kind he had ever seen. "His scientific name is _Damalis Senegalensis_," said Doctor Bronson, "and he belongs to the family _Antilopeæ_, of which there are many varieties. Africa has more of them than the rest of the world together, and they surpass all others in beauty and numbers. There are no antelopes in Madagascar or Australia. There are a few varieties in Asia, and only one each in Western Europe and America. Look at the one I have just killed; it will weigh at least four hundred pounds when dressed, and if you measure him at the shoulder, as you would a horse, you will find he is nearly five feet high. I doubt if any one ever saw so large an antelope as this in America." Frank made note of the fact that the prize which had fallen to the Doctor's rifle had a skin which glistened like that of a carefully-kept horse, and was in excellent condition. The face and ears were black, and there was a strip of black along the shoulder and down the back and legs. The tail was longer than that of the American antelope, and had a tuft of hair at the end. After looking at the antelope, and seeing him dressed and quartered, the boys tried to break into one of the ant-hills, in order to examine the interior. They found it nearly as hard as stone, and as they had brought no pickaxes or other digging tools from the steamer they soon abandoned the effort. Abdul said they would find the inside full of passages, leading to a chamber in the centre, where the ants made their home during the season of floods. The ants are divided into workers, soldiers, and idlers, and thus Frank thought they evinced an affinity with the human race. Doctor Bronson told him the workers were much more numerous than the soldiers; the latter were five or six times as large as the workers, and had powerful jaws, with which they could bite severely. Fred asked if these ants were "slave-makers." He had read of slave-making ants, and thought, naturally enough, that in the land of the human slave-hunter and slave-owner the ants might follow the example of their betters. "These are not the slave-makers," was the reply, "or at any rate it has not been clearly demonstrated that they indulge in the practice of maintaining involuntary servants. The one known as a slave-maker is a red ant, somewhat smaller than the one before us. His habits have been studied, so that there is no doubt of his slave-holding propensities. [Illustration: A SLAVE-MAKING ANT, MAGNIFIED.] "These red ants go out in large numbers and make war upon a species of black ant that lives in the same region with themselves. When they have conquered the settlement they invade the nest of their victims and carry away the eggs or cocoons containing the undeveloped young; these they transport to their own nest, and they also take along a sufficient number of the black ants to take care of the young as they are hatched. It is exactly the same as if a party of slave-hunters should invade a negro village and carry off all the infants they could find, together with enough of the negro women to feed and care for the young prisoners. The captive ants hatched in the nest become slaves as soon as they are large enough to work, and whether the old ones are retained when the children no longer require their attention has not been ascertained." "What a curious piece of information!" exclaimed one of the boys. "It sounds like a fiction, but I suppose the naturalists have removed all doubts concerning it." "Yes," answered Doctor Bronson; "you can read of it in any work on natural history where the habits of ants are set forth." By the time they reached the boat she was ready to move on, and in a little while the scene of the antelope hunt was left behind. In this part of the Nile few sailing or other boats were seen. Occasionally the natives were on the water with their canoes or their rafts of reeds, such as we have already seen, but they almost invariably propelled these diminutive craft by means of oars. Once in a while the boat of a trader from Khartoum was passed, and in one place a dozen or more of these craft were assembled in front of a native village. Abdul said they were probably waiting the arrival of a convoy of ivory from the interior, and it might be they were taking in a few slaves, in addition to the other products of the country. But though there was a scarcity of boats and other signs of commerce there was no lack of animal life. Frank was looking out from the deck of the steamer as it turned a bend in the river; suddenly he saw a large animal not twenty yards away, standing where it had apparently been drinking, at the edge of the river. As it caught sight of the boat it sprung up the bank and disappeared in the thicket, giving vent to an angry roar as it moved away. "That was a lion," said Abdul, who happened to be looking in the same direction, "and you will see more of his race as we proceed. Lions are quite numerous in this part of the country, and in fact all over Africa, and if you want to hunt them you can easily do so. And there are leopards and other carnivorous animals here," he continued, "and several varieties of serpents." Fred asked if they were in the region of the huge pythons, that were said to be large enough to swallow a man. "We are not quite far enough for that," was the reply, "but you might see some very good ones here if you went to the snaky localities. Serpents ten or fifteen feet long exist here, but you must go nearer the equator to find them of twenty feet. "The natives say that a man should always cross his legs like a figure four when he goes to sleep at night, otherwise he is liable to be swallowed by a python. He is said to do his work so quietly that he does not wake his victim, and can only be foiled in his attempt when the man crosses his legs as I have described, and prevents both feet being taken in at once." "If you want a good story of an adventure with a snake," said Frank, "let me tell you of Colonel Long's experience as he narrates it." Fred agreed to be a good listener, and so Frank settled into his chair and began the thrilling tale: [Illustration: COLONEL LONG'S GREAT SNAKE.] "Colonel Long says he was one day seated in his camp at Foueira, near the borders of the Albert N'yanzi, when he saw several men approaching with what he at first supposed was the trunk of a tree. It proved to be a large boa-constrictor, or python, which had just been killed close to the hut where he slept at night. It measured thirty feet in length, and in diameter was the size of a child. One of his men had said that a huge snake came every night to suck the cows in the camp; but the colonel had taken the narrative as an apocryphal 'snake-story' and given it no attention. The night before, his men were seated around the fire in the hut next his own, and suddenly fled in terror at the sight of an enormous head looking at them from an opening in the wall of the hut, and at the same time countless small serpents were gliding at their feet. "The cause was now apparent, the colonel says: the boa had laid its eggs on the outer wall of the hut, where they were hatched by the heat of the atmosphere, and the mother had come there to meet them at the time of their hatching. A strict and somewhat nervous watch was kept through the night, but without any result. The next morning the snake was intercepted while looking for its young, and despatched with several charges of shot in its head and body. Colonel Long says that after that incident he went to bed every night with the thought of the possibility of being strangled in his sleep by one of these horrible visitors. Luckily for him, and for us, there was no intimate friend of her snakeship to pay him a call and seek revenge for her death." Fred asked if the bite of the python was poisonous. Doctor Bronson explained that the python belonged to the family of constrictors, like the black snake of New England, and its bite was harmless. "It seizes its prey with its mouth," said the Doctor, "but only for the purpose of holding it. At the same instant it throws its folds about its victim and crushes it with the immense power of its constricting muscles. Next it proceeds to cover it with saliva, and then begins the process of swallowing, which may occupy several hours. "The swallowing is done by the contraction of the muscles of the head and neck, aided by the teeth, which hook backward, so that when anything has once entered it cannot be withdrawn. If a serpent of this species begins to swallow anything that cannot be carried down it will choke to death, and skeletons of pythons have been found with the skeletons of deer, goats, buffalo, or other horned animals, in their jaws. The horns had caused them to stick on the way, and as the snake could not let go for a fresh hold he perished by strangulation, as a punishment for his imprudence. "Do not confound the python with the anaconda," said the Doctor, in an explanatory tone. "The python belongs to the Old World, and the anaconda to the New; the latter is found in Central and South America, in the region of the tropics, while the former inhabits Africa and Asia. The name 'boa' belongs to the entire family; but some of the naturalists say it does not properly include the anaconda, which is amphibious in its character, while the boa is not. However, that is a point so fine that it is hardly worth our discussion, and we are not likely to become so intimate with the snakes as to pass an opinion upon it." [Illustration: PYTHON SEIZING ITS PREY.] CHAPTER VIII. THE DINKAS AND BARIS.--GONDOKORO.--ANNEXATION TO EGYPT. The day after the incident of the lion Frank was looking over the country with his glasses, and discovered what he supposed to be a cluster of ant-hills of a new kind. Scanning them closely for some minutes, he finally determined that they were not ant-hills, but the huts of a village. Being somewhat uncertain on this point, he appealed to the Doctor. "You are right," was the reply, "they are the huts of a native village." [Illustration: SECTIONAL VIEW OF DINKA HUT.] "But they are different in shape from the Shillook huts we have been seeing as we ascended the river." "Yes, they are different in shape, and they belong to another tribe of negroes. We are now in the country of the Dinkas, of whom we have already spoken. "The Dinkas are mainly on the east bank of the Nile, and their possessions extend quite a distance into the interior. The actual area of their country is unknown, as it has never been surveyed, and only a few travellers have explored it. The Dinkas are taller and finer in appearance than the Shillooks, and are a brave, hardy people. Their faces are more intelligent than those of the Shillooks, and altogether they are superior to their neighbors. Like the Shillooks, they are fond of veneering their skins with ashes, which gives them a brownish hue, and the favorite bed of the Dinka is a pile of ashes, with a stick of wood at one end, on which his neck can rest. When the ashes are washed away their skins are of inky blackness, and the Dinka may be fairly set down as one of the darkest of his dark race." Fred wished to know how they lived. "As to that," replied Doctor Bronson, "their ways of life are not much unlike those of the Shillooks, except that they are more peaceful. They have large herds of cattle, and are eminently a pastoral people. They cultivate the soil to quite an extent, and they move their villages occasionally in search of pasturage for their herds.... There: observe the bank of the river with your glass and you will see one of their herds, which is evidently coming down to allow the cattle to drink." [Illustration: HEAD OF A DINKA BULL.] Frank looked to where a dark spot seemed moving over the plain. As soon as he had adjusted his glasses he descried the drove that the Doctor had pointed out. There were hundreds of cattle in the herd, which moved at a dignified pace, under the control of two or three dozen men, who were clothed only in long lances, if a lance may be called an article of wearing apparel. Frank remarked the nakedness of the Dinkas, and the Doctor informed him that among this people the wearing of clothing is considered effeminate, and only the women are dressed with anything more than oil and ashes. The Dinkas call the Nubians "women," because they wear clothing, although it is not much, and a true Dinka would allow himself to be frozen to death rather than put on a garment to keep his body comfortable. "But they do not consider it effeminate," continued the Doctor, "to seek the shelter of their huts when the cold wind blows, and in this way they get along without much suffering." Abdul had been among the Dinkas, and said their herds of cattle would astonish the boys if they could see them. "Why," said he, "I have seen many a herd of ten thousand animals, and one of two thousand is considered small. They have large yards, or corrals, where the beasts are driven at night, to prevent their straying, and also to protect them from the attacks of wild beasts. The cattle are much like those you saw in the neighborhood of Khartoum. They live entirely on the wild grass, and in dry seasons are apt to suffer from scanty pasturage. [Illustration: A DINKA CATTLE-YARD.] "A cattle-yard among the Dinkas, when the herds are driven in for the night, is an interesting and also a noisy spot. Each animal has his place, where he is tied to a strong peg driven into the ground; and the herdsmen have the same trouble as herdsmen everywhere else in managing the refractory portion of the drove. Once in a while a man is trampled under their feet or gored by their horns. The absence of clothing is in favor of these cattle-drivers, as they are able to get around with more agility than if they were encumbered with garments. The cows are milked only once a day, and their yield is surprisingly small. [Illustration: A SHEEP WITHOUT WOOL.] "In addition to their horned cattle the Dinkas have great numbers of sheep and goats. But, unlike the sheep of Northern climes, they do not have any wool." "Why should they," said Fred, "when they live in a country where they don't need it? Nature adapts herself to the conditions of the climate." "If that is the fact," retorted Frank, "Nature has not been true to herself in some cases that I could mention. For instance, she ought to have given the natives of London, where it rains so much, a cuticle like a rubber overcoat; and if she had skinned them with regular Goodyear or Macintosh garments, pockets and all, she would have done a good thing." "Quite right," replied his cousin; "and while she was about it she might have given the New Yorker a double covering of mosquito-netting and buffalo robes, so that he could provide for his tropical summers and his arctic winters. When you talk about the rain of England you may offset it against the terrible variations of the thermometer in New York." "But about the Dinka sheep," said Abdul. "They have a sort of shaggy mane on the neck and shoulders, but the hair on the rest of the body, including the tail, is quite short. This style of covering makes them look like small buffaloes, and when you see one you almost require to be told that you are looking at a sheep, and not at some other animal. Their color is white or a dirty brown, and sometimes they are spotted or 'brindled.' The goats are not unlike the goats of other countries, but they grow quite large, and are usually very thin in flesh. "It is a curious circumstance that the Dinkas do not slaughter their cattle, but have no scruple about eating beef when the animal is killed by accident or is the property of somebody else. They reckon their possessions in cattle, just as we do in money, and a man who has no horned property is indeed poor. Neither do they kill their sheep, and the goat is the only domestic animal that they slaughter for food. In their currency one cow equals thirty goats. Goats take care of themselves, and require very little attention, but the cattle must be herded and watched. Wild beasts occasionally carry off their goats, but the loss is so slight that it is not heeded. [Illustration: A DINKA VILLAGE NEAR THE WHITE NILE.] "Their huts are made of thatched grass, and larger than those of the Shillooks. The people take considerable pains to keep their dwellings clean, and in this respect are rather better than the majority of the natives of Africa." Frank thought their habit of sleeping in ashes was not an agreeable one. Abdul said the practice had at least one merit, as it drove away a good many insects that make sleeping disagreeable on many parts of African soil. "I have suffered less from fleas and other small game in the Dinkas' huts," said he, "than among the Shillooks or the other tribes that I have seen. They are a hospitable race, and their cooking is not to be despised. They live on the flesh of goats and on fish caught from the river, and they make several nice dishes of milk and farinaceous products. Their manners at table are as polite as in Europe, and their way of eating is more like yours than that of the Arabs." "Do they have cups and saucers, plates, knives and forks, and other table things, as we do?" one of the youths asked. "Not by any means," was the reply, "as they have few manufactures, and their dishes are principally gourds and shells. This is the way they eat at their meals: "A large dish of cooked farina is placed on the ground, and the party sits down around it, each one having a gourd-shell full of milk or butter. When all is ready, the oldest person or the one highest in rank pours some of his milk on the farina; then with a spoon he eats as much as he likes, and passes the dish to the next. The first pours his milk only on the part he touches, and the second follows his example, and thus they take their turns till all are supplied. I think you will agree that this is a much neater way than that of the Arabs, who all sit around and thrust their fingers into the same dish, even though they are scrupulously careful to wash their hands before and after, and also several times during the meal." "I remember reading in Dr. Schweinfurth's book," said Frank, "that he often entertained Dinka ladies of rank in his tent, and was surprised at the way they fell into European manners. He used to serve them with his foreign dishes, and they sat on his chairs; they handled his forks and spoons as though accustomed to them all their lives, and carefully washed everything when through with it and put it in its proper place." With the study of the curious people through whose country they were passing, with frequent sights of crocodiles and river-horses, occasional shots at cranes and other birds, and a goodly amount of sleep whenever the mosquitoes would permit, the youths did not find the time hanging heavy on their hands. Finally, one afternoon they were told that Gondokoro was in sight, and their steamboat voyage was about to end. The arrival at Gondokoro was a grateful relief from the marshes and lowlands through which our friends had travelled for nearly a thousand miles. As they approached this point they saw mountains in the distance, and found the little settlement on a bluff, or high bank, ten or twelve feet above the river. Frank hoped they had said farewell to the swarms of mosquitoes that had been pestering them for many days, but the Doctor brought him no grain of comfort in replying that the mosquito had the whole of Africa for his domain, and they could only be rid of his presence by leaving the country. Frank asked for the history of Gondokoro, and received the following information, which he duly recorded in his note-book: "Gondokoro is in the territory of the Bari negroes, and on the right bank of the White Nile; it is in latitude 4° 54' north and longitude 31° 46' east, and in a hot and unhealthy country. It was formerly a station of the ivory traders, and was occupied only two months in the year, during their annual visits to the Upper Nile valley. The tropical rains last about three-fourths of the year, and render the air very moist and the vegetation vigorous. The grass is so luxuriant that the buffaloes are concealed by it, and the reeds on the banks of the lagoons near the river grow to a height of twenty-five or thirty feet. "It was formerly an important depot of the slave-traders, and when Baker Pacha came up the Nile to abolish their traffic he took possession of Gondokoro in the name of the Khedive, and annexed the country to Egypt." "Yes," said Abdul, to whom Frank read the notes he had made, "the ceremony of annexation was very interesting. "Baker had decided to change the name of the place to Ismailia, in honor of the Khedive, and the ceremony was fixed for the morning of May 26, 1871. A tall flag-staff had been erected for supporting the Egyptian colors on the highest point of land overlooking the river, and all the trees and bushes were cleared away, so that the ground was as smooth as a lawn. "The troops, to the number of twelve hundred, marched from their quarters at six in the morning and formed a square near the flag-staff, one side consisting of a battery of ten guns, ready to fire a salute. [Illustration: CEREMONY AT GONDOKORO ON ITS ANNEXATION TO EGYPT.] "When all was ready the official proclamation announcing the annexation of the country to the Khedive's dominions was read at the foot of the staff, and as the last sentence was uttered, the flag was run to the top of the pole and immediately fluttered in the breeze. The officers waved their swords, the soldiers presented arms, and the battery fired a royal salute. The natives had been invited to witness the ceremony, and they came in large numbers. When the artillery was fired they were greatly astonished, as few of them had ever heard anything of the kind before, and their surprise was increased when the troops indulged in a sham battle, during which they fired about ten thousand rounds of blank cartridges. They were not at all friendly to the annexation, as they had been persuaded by the slave-traders that the movement was intended for their oppression, and they would all be carried into captivity." Frank continued his notes on the history of the place: [Illustration: AUSTRIAN MISSION-HOUSE AT GONDOKORO.] "The Austrian government established a mission at Gondokoro in 1853, and built a church of bricks which were made of the clay found in the neighborhood. The mission was discontinued in 1858, and of twenty missionaries that went there to preach the Gospel to the natives thirteen died of fever, two of other diseases, and two others went away with their health so broken down that they died soon after reaching Khartoum. The natives tore down the mission church and pounded the bricks into dust, which they mixed with oil; they anointed their bodies with the paste, which they pronounced an excellent substitute for red paint. All missionary efforts were abandoned, to the great delight of the slave-traders, who had found them interfering with their business. "From that time down to the arrival of Baker, in 1871, the town resumed its former condition and appearance, as a station of the ivory-merchants and slave-traders. There was no law in Gondokoro, and very little order, and if anybody chose to commit a crime there was hardly a probability that he would be punished for it. Everybody who went there for any purpose other than trading was regarded as a nuisance, and the merchants were not slow to excite the natives against him. [Illustration: VIEW OF GONDOKORO, FROM THE RIVER.] "Baker erected a line of earthworks for the defence of the place, and built warehouses for keeping his goods and military stores. After his departure some of the buildings erected by him were pulled down, and the material became scattered and lost. The military station was made on the bank of a small stream which enters the Nile at this point, but it is too shallow to admit steamers and sail-boats, which are consequently moored to the bank of the river." [Illustration: COLONEL ABD-EL-KADER.] Our friends were cordially received by the commandant of the post, Colonel Abd-el-Kader, who had served with Baker in the famous expedition, and was highly complimented by that gentleman for his zeal and efficiency. The colonel invited them to his quarters, and as soon as the greetings were over he assigned them a place where their tents could be erected. The youths were not at all sorry to exchange their quarters on the steamer for their canvas houses, whose qualities they had tested in the journey from Korosko to Berber. Frank declared he was rapidly becoming an Arab, and thought it not at all improbable that he would prefer a tent to a substantial dwelling-place for the rest of his life. Fred said he would wait a while before declaring himself, as he was a long way from renouncing the comforts of a home in New York or any other civilized city. "Be careful about one thing," said the colonel as they left his quarters; "remember you are now in the country of the white ants, and they will eat anything except iron. They have even been known to gnaw holes in a stove-pipe, if some of my officers tell the truth, and it is currently reported that they have ruined our best grindstone. Everything not enclosed in tin or something stronger is subject to their teeth, and you must be constantly on the lookout for them." The boys promised to be careful, and as they watched the landing of their stores they gave directions to Abdul, forgetting that he had been in the country before and knew all about it. The goods were properly stowed, those not enclosed in tin cases being hoisted on posts, to hold them clear from the ground, and the feet of the posts placed in pots of water. At night when the boys retired they were obliged to be careful of all their garments and hoist them out of reach. Of course it happened that the second night one of them forgot the necessary precaution, and left his boots on the floor of the tent. In the morning he found they had been riddled by the ants and were no longer water-proof, and their usefulness as coverings for the feet had passed away. He was more careful in future, and learned to appreciate the ants at their true value as destroyers. Almost everything except metals yields to the teeth of these insects. Ordinary timber, carefully dried and painted, is attacked by them, and it was not unusual to find them devouring the gun-stocks of the soldiers or the wood-work of machinery and implements of daily use. One of the officers found his sword-belt had been eaten on a hook where he hung it during the night, and there was hardly a garment belonging to the men of the garrison that had not suffered in some way from the pests. Fred recalled some familiar words of 'Pinafore' relative to sisters, cousins, and aunts, and wondered if the author had the ants of the Soudan in mind when he penned the now antiquated lines. The youths were interested in studying the natives of the country around Gondokoro, and the information they obtained was carefully recorded in their journals. We are permitted to make the following extracts, which will save us the trouble of referring to the explorers of Africa who have written about these savages: "Gondokoro is in the country of the Baris, a race of negroes somewhat resembling the other tribes of the Nile, but differing from them in language and customs. They have large herds of cattle, like their neighbors the Dinkas, and, like them, they till the soil to some extent, though the raising of cattle is their chief occupation. Doctor Bronson says they raise a good deal of mischief as well as cattle, and have given no end of trouble to travellers and to the military expeditions that have been sent among them. The Austrian missionaries were unable to do anything with them, and their labors of several years among the Baris and the sacrifice of valuable lives did not make a single earnest convert to Christianity. [Illustration: BARIS STEALING CATTLE FROM THE GARRISON AT GONDOKORO.] "They occupy a territory about ninety miles long by seventy wide, its greatest extent being from north to south. They have no king or any other person whom they recognize as a ruler. The country is divided into districts, and each district has a chief, who does not acknowledge the authority of any other. The result is they have occasional wars among themselves, but these troubles do not last long. They are implacable enemies, and famous for their treachery, and they look upon every stranger as a spy or intriguer. They have suffered considerably from the raids of the slave-traders, who plundered their villages and carried the prisoners into captivity; but when Baker Pacha came among them, with the avowed object of suppressing the slave-trade, they were hostile to him, and remained so till after his departure. They stole his cattle, attacked his camp, killed his soldiers, and did everything in their power to drive him from the country and stop the work for which he went among them. "The country of the Baris is a fine region for grazing, and admirably adapted to the support of their herds of cattle. It is diversified with park-like stretches of grass-lands, interspersed with extensive forests of the finest timber, and occasionally rises into mountain-ranges two or three thousand feet high. Rivers rise among these mountains and flow to the Nile, and they are sufficiently numerous to give the country a good supply of water, except in the season of drought. "Most of the soil is fertile, and produces abundantly when tilled. The mountains contain iron ore of excellent quality, which the natives reduce and work into weapons and other things. They have very skilful blacksmiths, and some of the products of their skill would be no discredit to the best workmen of an English or American shop. We have seen spear-heads, knives, arrow-points, and similar things from their hands, and they were fashioned as perfectly as though turned in a lathe or stamped by a machine. [Illustration: BARI ARROWS AND ELEPHANT-SPEAR.] "Some of the arrow-points have barbs below the head, so that the weapon when driven into the flesh of an animal will have no chance of being drawn out, and there are several forms of these arrows. Then they have elephant-spears weighted with a ball of iron, so that a hunter may drop them from a tree upon the unsuspecting animal that passes beneath him. They have learned the process of hardening their iron, though they have not yet discovered how to convert it into steel. It is certainly good enough for all their uses, and the supply is inexhaustible." * * * * * "Since writing the above we have been to a Bari village about five miles from Gondokoro, and had the opportunity of inspecting their dwellings. The village consists of conical huts, which resemble those of the Dinkas in outward appearance; the inside is different, as it has an inner circle, with a low opening. We had to crawl on our knees to enter one of the huts, as the door was only two feet high. When we got through we stood up, but had to stoop again to get to the inner circle, which has an opening no higher than the door. "Contrary to our expectation we found the inside of the huts perfectly clean, and we voted unanimously that the Bari women are good house-keepers, for they do all the work about the dwellings. The walls are of wattles, or reeds, and small withes woven together. The outside of the hut is thatched with grass, and the inside is plastered with cement made from the clay of the ant-hills mixed with ashes, and worked into a paste with water. Outside of the hut there is a little court-yard, with a fence around it, and paved with the same kind of cement that we saw on the walls. This yard is carefully swept every morning, and no dirt is allowed to gather there in the course of the day. "Most of the huts had granaries near them, and we were told that some of the villages had large granaries in common. The granaries are made of wicker-work, plastered with cement, and standing on posts of stone or cement, so that they cannot be damaged by the white ants. "Every village has a large _zeriba_, or cattle-yard, where their herds are driven at night for safety. The one we saw was made of posts of a very hard wood, much like ebony, and one of the very few woods that the white ants will not devour. The posts were six or eight inches in diameter, and sunk into the ground, so as to form a stockade about eight feet high. The spaces between the posts were interlaced with thorny bushes, and would form an admirable defence against an enemy armed with Bari weapons. "Near the house of the sheik or chief we passed an open shed, near which a drum was suspended. Abdul said the drum belonged to the sheik, and no one is allowed to touch it except by his orders. It was shaped somewhat like an egg with a slice cut off from one end, and was evidently hollowed from a log of wood. "Abdul explained that the Baris place great reliance on their drums, and have a system of signals for them, so that information can be readily conveyed. One kind of beat calls the fighting-men together for war, another summons them to a council, and another tells them to go in a certain direction to meet an enemy. The signal for war is sounded from one village to another, so that the whole country can be under arms in a very short time. It is not unlike a telegraph in its operations, and may be very well compared to the bugle and drum calls in a civilized army. "Every morning the drum is beaten to give the signal for milking the cows, and when the work is done another signal sends the herds to pasture. A similar call is given for bringing them in at night, and it is said that the cattle know the different sounds of the drum just as well as their masters do. "The dress of the Bari men is much like that of the Dinkas--a veneering of ashes, and a spear or lance. The women wear aprons of leather, but the men go quite naked, and consider clothing a mark of effeminacy. One reason of their disrespect for Europeans is the fact that the latter wear clothing, and they invariably speak of the Egyptian officers as 'Turkish ladies,' because they are clothed from head to foot." [Illustration: AFRICAN DRUMS.] CHAPTER IX. AN ELEPHANT HUNT.--MARCHING SOUTHWARD FROM GONDOKORO. There was enough to do and see at Gondokoro and in the neighborhood to occupy several days, but our friends were not the less mindful of the necessity for departure. Doctor Bronson consulted Colonel Abd-el-Kader on the subject, and was soon able to lay before the youths a satisfactory plan for their future movements. "Above here," said the Doctor, "we cannot go with the steamer, on account of the rapids in the river, that render it impassable for any but the smallest boats. The Nile becomes narrower, and the hills close in upon it so that it does not at all resemble the Nile of Lower Egypt and Nubia. It has the characteristics of a river flowing among mountains, and in the places where the fall is insufficient to create a rapid or cataract the stream is anything but a sluggish one. [Illustration: THE NILE BELOW AFUDDO.] "The rapids occur at intervals for a distance of about a hundred and twenty miles above Gondokoro by land, and perhaps a hundred and fifty by the course of the stream. Then we come to a place known as Afuddo by the natives, and also by geographers, though the latter generally speak of it as 'Miani's Tree.'" "Why does it have the latter name?" one of the youths asked. "Because," was the reply, "it was the point reached by Miani, an Italian traveller, who explored this part of Central Africa, and was driven back by the natives through the intrigues of the slave-traders. He returned despondent to Khartoum, and subsequently undertook an exploration of the Bahr-el-Ghazal, where he died. It is a great misfortune that he perished before the history of his explorations had been given to the world, as he had visited regions hitherto unexplored by any traveller. [Illustration: A NYAM-NYAM GIRL.] "Miani penetrated the country of the Nyam-Nyam dwarfs, and brought away two specimens of that curious race. I happened to be in Cairo at the time of their arrival. They were sent there after Miani's death, and were subsequently forwarded by the Khedive, Ismail, to the King of Italy, the sovereign of the dead explorer. They were perfectly-formed and adult men, but little more than four feet in height. A Dinka negro who accompanied them said he had been in the country of the dwarfs, and very few of the inhabitants were taller than the ones we were examining.[4] [4] In the spring of 1874, through the courtesy of Ismail, Khedive, the author had the opportunity of seeing the two dwarfs mentioned above. "Above Afuddo, or Miani's Tree," said the Doctor, "the rapids come to an end, and the Nile is navigable to its exit from the Albert N'yanza. There is one place in the rapids where the river is narrowed to a hundred yards, and the water dashes along so furiously as to threaten destruction to any craft that ventures upon it. At certain stages of the river boats may pass with the current, but it is quite impossible to make headway against it. [Illustration: ENTRANCE OF THE LAKE.] "The point where the Nile becomes navigable again is in latitude 3° 32' north, near the mouth of the Asua River. It is less than a hundred miles from there to the lake, and the river flows through a beautiful and populous country. "Suppose the Soudan railway was finished, and in operation from Wady Halfa to Khartoum, see how easily we could open navigation into the heart of Africa," said the Doctor, rising as he spoke, and pointing toward the south. [Illustration: NYAM-NYAM WARRIORS.] "From Khartoum to Gondokoro the Nile is navigable, as we have just demonstrated by making the journey on a steamboat. A railway of a hundred and twenty miles, from Gondokoro to Afuddo, would bring us to the point where the Nile is navigable to the Albert N'yanza, and another railway, of less than a hundred miles, would connect the Victoria N'yanza with the Albert N'panza. Thus the interior of Africa could be opened up to travel and commerce by steam by the construction of two hundred and odd miles of railway, in addition to the Soudan line. "But we haven't the railway along with us at present," he remarked as he resumed his chair, "and must put up with the means at our command. They are primitive in their character, but others have managed with them, and so can we." Frank asked how their baggage would be carried from Gondokoro, as they would not be able to follow the river, on account of the rapids. "We must have it carried by men," the Doctor answered, "and here will begin our experience with African porters." "They have camels and elephants in abundance in Africa," said Fred, "and it seems strange that they rely upon human muscle for transporting their burdens. When camels are so abundant lower down I wonder they don't have them here; besides, we are in the land where the elephant runs wild in the woods, and is never domesticated, as he is in Asia. Is there any reason why they shouldn't use him?" "The African elephant is much fiercer than the Asiatic," was the reply, "but there is no good reason why he should not be tamed and used like his brother in Hindostan. African elephants were domesticated in ancient times, and even in the present century they have taken kindly to captivity. The famous 'Jumbo,' which has been the delight of children in England and America, is an African elephant, and he was captured when very young. You can readily know an African elephant from an Asiatic one by his ears; they are at least three times as large, and the lower point reaches to his leg. On a large elephant of the African variety the ear will be five feet long by four in width. In South Africa it is sometimes used as a sledge, and serves its purpose admirably." [Illustration: ELEPHANT COMING TO DRINK.] The conversation was interrupted by Abdul, who came to announce a herd of elephants coming down to the river, a little above the town. They had evidently been disturbed by the natives, and were endeavoring to find a place of safety. Doctor Bronson seized his elephant rifle, which had only been unpacked the day before, and started without a moment's delay. Abdul followed with the ammunition-case, and the two boys accompanied the Doctor. Outside the camp they were passed by Colonel Abd-el-Kader on horseback, on his way to take a shot at the huge game. The colonel dashed on ahead of them, and was at the bank of the river when they were little more than half the distance. The soldiers came running from the camp, and the elephants took the alarm and tried to turn on their tracks; but they found themselves surrounded and their retreat cut off. Their only way of escape was by swimming the river to an island about a hundred and forty yards away. They were all fine old elephants, and each one a "tusker," so that they would be valuable prizes to their captors. Following their leader, they dashed into the water before either of the hunters was within shooting distance. The colonel dismounted from his horse just as the last of the herd entered the river. The elephant swims so low that no vulnerable part of him is exposed, and therefore the hunters could only stand and wait till the frightened animals had reached the opposite bank. [Illustration: ELEPHANTS HUNTED IN THE WATER.] Fortune was against the elephants, as the bank was so steep that they could not climb it, but were obliged to break it away by digging with their tusks and feet. They are accustomed to this sort of thing, and in a little while had broken away great masses of the earth and formed a sloping ascent up which they could climb. The delay gave the colonel and Doctor Bronson a chance to get their weapons in readiness, and as the first of the elephants emerged from the river the colonel took a shot at him. The bullet took effect in the animal's head, causing him to turn partly around and expose his side to the Doctor. The latter took instant advantage of the position and fired. The elephant fell into the water and floated down the stream. The second elephant that climbed the bank was served in the same way, but it took five bullets to bring him down instead of two. The distance was too far for good work, and the third elephant escaped without serious injury, as he did not present a good mark. The colonel's rifle became unserviceable on account of the sticking of a cartridge; the Doctor found his shoulder considerably bruised by the recoil, and concluded that two elephants were quite enough for one morning's work. However, he tried another shot at the third elephant, and by this time the herd had broken the bank sufficiently to allow them to mount the land and make their best paces for the woods. Frank asked the Doctor why he did not keep on firing till the last of the herd had gone. "Well," replied that gentleman, "an elephant rifle is no toy to handle, and two or three shots in rapid succession are about as much as one desires. Sir Samuel Baker had a similar experience with a herd of elephants, and was quite satisfied with a couple of prizes. He says that his rifle was sure to kill an elephant when fired at short range, and half kill the man that held it. Once his rifle was thrown out of his hands a distance of several yards by the force of the recoil, and an Arab hunter who tried to use it had his collar-bone broken by the blow." The attention of the party was now turned to securing the carcasses of the slaughtered elephants. They were floating down the stream with the current, and men were sent with ropes and boats to bring them to land. This was not a work of great difficulty, though it required much expenditure of muscle, as the bodies were large and unwieldy. The body of the elephant floats on the water, while that of the hippopotamus sinks as soon as it is killed; but it rises again in a few hours, when the gases within have distended the stomach. Crowds of natives had flocked to the river and witnessed the slaughter, and they lent ready hands to the soldiers to secure the prizes. They are very fond of the flesh of the elephant, and the work of the morning gave them sure promise of an abundant feast. "We will have an African dinner such as you have never tasted," the Doctor remarked as they returned from the hunt. "What is that?" one of the youths asked. "We will have an elephant's foot roasted, _à la Afrique_." was the reply. "As soon as the cook is ready you may see how it is prepared." The tusks of the elephants were secured, and also the feet. Colonel Abd-el-Kader offered two of the tusks to Doctor Bronson as his share of the proceeds of the chase, but the latter politely declined them, and said he and the boys would be content with three of the smaller teeth, which they could keep as souvenirs. The soldiers took as much of the red flesh of the animals as they desired for their cooking-pots, and then left the rest for the natives. The colonel took one of the feet, the Doctor another, and the others were given to the officers of the garrison. The Doctor explained to the boys that the foot of the elephant is considered the finest part of the animal, and regarded as a great delicacy by all African epicures. The boys went with Abdul to witness the preparations for cooking their dinner. Herewith we give the account which Frank made of the performance: "A hole was dug about three feet deep; over this they kindled a fire of reeds and bushes, and kept it burning at a great rate for two hours or more. By this time the hole was full of hot ashes and embers, and the ground around it was heated to a high degree. Then the foot of the elephant was thrown into the hole and some of the ashes were raked over it; another fire was kindled above it, and was kept up for two or three hours longer. "All through the afternoon there was a mass of hot embers and ashes around and over that elephant's foot, which did as good work as the best oven ever invented. Dinner was served about five o'clock, and came smoking hot to the table. The coals and ashes were raked away, and the new style of roast joint was found to be cooked to perfection. The skin was removed by chopping with a hatchet, and revealed something resembling the interior of a game-pie, but not so dark in color. The muscles of the foot had a gelatinous character, and the action of the heat had cooked them to a condition of tenderness which made them very toothsome. "There is no civilized dish to which we can compare it, and therefore we must adopt Fred's suggestion, to let the elephant's foot stand alone. We had some doubts at first, but have none at present; our appetites are appeased, and when we next secure an elephant in our hunting excursions we shall dine on his feet." Over the dinner-table the consideration of the route to the south was resumed. "The colonel tells me," said Doctor Bronson, "that a detachment of soldiers is about to leave Gondokoro for Foueira, on the banks of the Victoria Nile. We can go with it to that point, or we can stop at Afuddo, where there is a station, garrisoned by a company of soldiers, under command of a captain. You remember that when Baker Pacha came with his expedition he brought a steamer in sections, which he intended for the navigation of the Albert N'yanza. "Owing to the impossibility of securing the necessary carriers Baker was unable to transport his steamer to Afuddo, and returned without accomplishing this part of his mission. But his successor, Colonel Gordon (Gordon Pacha), had better luck, and early in 1876 the steamer and two iron life-boats were launched on the waters of the White Nile above the last rapids. On the 8th of March of that year Mr. Gessi, one of Gordon's officers, started with the steamer and the two iron boats and ascended to the lake. "The boat was named the _Khedive_, in honor of the ruler of Egypt. It was a craft of one hundred and eight tons and twenty horse power, and will ever be memorable as the first steam-propelled vessel on the lakes of Central Africa. "With these boats Mr. Gessi explored the lake, which he reported about one hundred and forty miles long by fifty in width, containing numerous islands, and bounded by magnificent forests. It is shallow on the southern shore, where the country is flat, but on the west the land is mountainous and the water deep. The little fleet went to Magungo, on the eastern shore, where the Victoria Nile empties into the lake, twenty-two miles below Murchison Falls. Afterward the steamer ascended the river to the foot of the falls, finding plenty of water and easy navigation. The flag of Egypt was hoisted at Magungo, and the country was occupied in the name of the Khedive. [Illustration: THE NAVIGABLE NILE ABOVE THE LAST CATARACTS.] "Now," the Doctor continued, "the fleet of Mr. Gessi is at the mouth of the Asua River, or rather at Afuddo, and the colonel says it is at our service, provided we pay the expenses of running the steamer. We can go with the detachment of troops that I have mentioned, and they will be necessary to protect us through the hostile country which lies between Gondokoro and Afuddo. But at that place we will not need its care any longer, as the natives are friendly, though it will be well for us to retain a small escort, to guard against accidents. He will arrange for the escort, and there is no doubt that the captain of the post at Afuddo will give us all the aid we need. "There is one disadvantage in going with the detachment instead of venturing out alone: carriers are not easily procured in large numbers. We shall want at least a hundred for ourselves and our baggage, while the detachment of soldiers will need at least twice that number. Three hundred men are not always to be had by calling for them, while a single hundred might be easily procured. I told you before we left Cairo that the carrier question was the most troublesome one for an African explorer, and you must make your minds up to be patient and submit cheerfully to delays, if they must and will come." Both the youths agreed that they would emulate the example of Job and refrain from grumbling, however great the provocation. With this understanding the party broke up, and its members were soon in bed. It was the fashion to retire early in Gondokoro, so as to be up with the first blush of morning and enjoy the cool hours of the day. The colonel sent out men to hire carriers, but there were few to be had. It looked as though the travellers might be indefinitely delayed at the outset; and just as they were beginning to feel uneasy a caravan arrived from Foueira, with four hundred porters, bringing loads of ivory and other interior products. Here was a piece of good-fortune! The porters were not wanted any longer by their employers, and it took only a short time to arrange for them to carry the baggage of the entire party to Afuddo and Foueira, after they had been allowed a couple of days to be paid off and to rest from their fatigues. The time was spent in getting the loads in readiness, and on the morning of the third day the long and mixed procession started on its way. [Illustration: SADDLE-DONKEYS.] About half the soldiers were in advance, and the rest brought up the rear. Between them, and stretching over a long distance, was the line of porters with their loads, the commander of the detachment on horseback, and our three friends similarly mounted. The three horses had been bought at a high price by the Doctor, who had also secured as many donkeys. It was decided that the latter would make acceptable mounts in case of accident to the larger animals, and in the mean time they could be ridden by Abdul and Ali, or made useful for carrying baggage. The families of the soldiers made quite a crowd by themselves. It is the custom of the soldier in Africa to be accompanied by his wife, except on the most difficult marches; and though the European officers in the Khedive's service have protested repeatedly, they have never been able to break it up. Altogether the procession extended a mile or more, and appeared powerful enough to take care of itself against any ordinary enemy. [Illustration: MARCHING THROUGH THE BARI COUNTRY.] An important part of the procession was a drove of cattle. Frank called it the purse of the expedition, as the animals were intended to be used in payment of the services of the porters, as well as for supplying beef on the road. As before stated, they are the circulating medium in certain parts of Africa, and when frightened and at full speed they _circulate_ with great rapidity. They have the faculty of disappearing as easily as the bank-notes and coins of more civilized countries, and, like them, may be regarded as blessings that brighten as they take their flight. The cattle gave some trouble to their drivers, and not infrequently broke up the line of march by dashing across it and scattering the travellers in all directions. The horns of the beasts were not pleasant objects to contemplate, especially at the moments when there was a prospect of being impaled on them. The country became quite rough as the column advanced, and in a few hours after their departure from Gondokoro the travellers found themselves among mountains two or three thousand feet high. Frequently they came to ravines, and it was in these places that delays were caused by the cattle, as they could not be driven rapidly. The camp was made after a march of about ten miles. The tents were pitched under some wide-spreading trees, and Frank remarked what a pity it was the trees could not be induced to march along with them, for the grateful shelter they would afford against the heat of the sun at noon. The natives had hovered in the vicinity of the line of march in order to secure any one of the herd of cattle that might stray from its keepers. But no such good-fortune befell them, as the herd preserved its integrity during the entire day, and was driven to the temporary _zeriba_ for protection during the night. According to the custom of African travellers all the baggage was piled in front of the tents of the owners, and the boxes and bales were carefully counted before the porters were dismissed. This is an important requirement, and the traveller who neglects it even for a single occasion is liable to be the victim of plunder. The boxes containing the rifles, ammunition, and the most precious articles should be housed within the tents, and only the ordinary freight left outside. Even there a guard is always placed over it, and the greatest watchfulness is constantly needed. [Illustration: CAMP SCENE.] CHAPTER X. A FISHING EXCURSION.--ENCOUNTERING A HIPPOPOTAMUS.--THE COUNTRY OF THE NYAM-NYAMS. The party was awake at an early hour, and there was no rest for anybody after daylight. The camp had been made close to a small lake that was said to abound in fish. One of the soldiers was an expert fisherman, and our friends were surprised to learn that they were to have fresh fish for breakfast. Frank asked Abdul how it happened, and the dragoman proceeded to enlighten him. [Illustration: ONE OF THE COOKS.] "You see," said Abdul, "that the lake where these fish were caught is the head of a small stream that runs into the Nile, and when it is full of water the fish run up from the river. They stay here and grow. Some of them are large enough when they leave the Nile, but, whether large or not, they are sure to grow bigger by staying in the lake." Fred wished to know what kind of fish they were. "There are several kinds," was the reply, "but the most important are the boulti and the baggera. They are a species of perch, and very fine eating. The boulti rarely weighs more than five pounds, but the baggera grows to an enormous size, and often exceeds a hundred pounds in weight. The largest I ever saw tipped the scale at a hundred and fifty-two pounds, but I have heard of their reaching two hundred and more. [Illustration: THE SECOND DAY'S MARCH.] "They may properly be called fishes of the Upper Nile and its tributaries. They are found in the Lower Nile, where they are hardly fit to eat. Travellers who have tasted them at Cairo and below the first cataract pronounce them worthless, but they should come here to eat them, where the flavor is delicious. The case is the same all the world over, and a fish that is excellent in one part of a river is worthless in another." "I can give you a good illustration of that," said the Doctor. "In Oregon the salmon ascend the Columbia River from the sea. The most of the fish continue up the Columbia, and the rest turn into the Willamette, a smaller river, on which Portland is situated. The salmon of the Columbia are considered among the finest of their species in the world, while those of the Willamette are of very poor quality. It is the same on the Colorado River: the fish of the upper part are excellent, while the same species lower down the stream are worthless. "We have an abundance for this morning, and it is a pity we cannot keep the surplus till we want it. They preserve the boulti here by splitting it down the back, salting it a few hours, and then smoking it over a wood fire. Thus prepared it will keep good a couple of days; but if it is wanted for a long time it must be smoked and dried in the sun till it is like a piece of board." Frank was curious to know how the fish were taken, and so it was arranged that he and Fred should accompany the fisherman on the first opportunity. It happened that very evening, as there was a lake near the second camp very much like the first. On his return Frank told Doctor Bronson how the work was performed. "The fisherman is a Nubian," said he, "and learned his business on the Lower Nile, in his own country. He can swim like a duck, and is so black that a piece of charcoal wouldn't make a mark on him. I thought he would catch the fish with a hook, or perhaps a spear, but he didn't; he used a net, and it was a pleasure to see him throw it. "He laid his casting-net across his arm, and waded out till the water was up to his waist: he does not seem afraid of the crocodiles, though the lake is full of them. Abdul said the man had a charm that protected him; he always wore it around his neck, and as long as it was in its place he was safe. [Illustration: FISHING VILLAGE IN AN AFRICAN LAKE.] "When he reached a spot which he considered favorable he threw his net so that it described an exact circle as it struck the water. The leaden weights carried it straight to the bottom, and the fish within the circle were surrounded. "As soon as it fell the water was agitated, showing that a good cast had been made. The man hauled away as fast as possible, so as to prevent the fish from escaping by burrowing beneath the leads. The depth of water was a little more than the height of the sides of the net, so that the floats on the top were drawn under the surface. "There was a lively splashing as the net came in toward the shore, and it seemed as though the fish would break through and get away. They didn't do it, though, as the net was strong, and the meshes were too close to allow any but the very smallest to pass through. When the net came fairly on the sand where we were standing it was a pretty sight. There were thirty-six boulti, none of them less than a pound in weight, while nearly a third weighed over four pounds apiece. "The catch at that one throw made a good load for two men. Another throw of the net secured a dozen fishes equal to the first, and a third throw brought nothing at all. And as we thought we had done a good piece of work we came back to camp, and did not attempt to secure any more finny game. "On our return Abdul said they had a way of fishing in a lake near Gondokoro with some nets that were brought there by Baker Pacha. They had a stop-net to keep the fish from running into the bulrushes at the end of the lake. This stop-net was nearly five hundred feet long, and fastened to stakes set at intervals of a few yards, and the ends were brought around like the points of a bow. "After the stop-net was set the lake was swept by a drag-net, hauled by men in two boats, one at each end. As it approached the stop-net and the ends met, the fish were imprisoned, and there was a tremendous dashing in the water. The men sometimes became as excited as the fish, though in a different way; but the most of the party had their wits about them and did not lose their heads--and the fish. As many as four hundred fishes were taken in this way at a single swoop, and some of them weighed forty or fifty pounds. These big fellows were baggera, and sometimes they were almost the only fish that were caught." [Illustration: STAMPEDING THE CARAVAN.] The same care was observed as on the first day's march to prevent the straying of the cattle and the dispersal of the column. There was some trouble with the animals early in the afternoon, on account of the persistence of a portion of the herd in trying to turn back to Gondokoro. One of the largest of the herd lost his temper and made a furious charge at the column of porters. For a time the march was suspended, as the porters dropped their burdens and fled, and it was not an easy matter to persuade them to return to their work. The offending beast was converted into beef, when the party halted for the evening, and in this form his presence was much more agreeable than when he was carrying himself around on the hoof. [Illustration: HALTING-PLACE NEAR A POND.] About noon they halted near a little pond, which looked as though it would be a good place for a bath. Frank and Fred were desirous of trying the water, but were dissuaded by Abdul, who told them it was full of _sangsues_, or blood-suckers, which were not an agreeable adjunct of a bath. Frank recalled his experience in Ceylon, where he was occupied for half an hour after coming out in removing the leeches that clung to him. "And besides," he remarked, "we haven't the blood to spare, even though we don't mind the trouble of removing these African postage-stamps." The donkeys were not so tender of skin or feelings, and walked straight to the water as soon as they were released from their work. Whether the leeches tried their skill at blood-letting on these animals we are unable to say, but if they did they probably abandoned the effort after a few trials. The third day brought the line of march in the neighborhood of the Nile, owing to a bend which the river makes to the eastward. The old route to Foueira avoided the river altogether, but the new one followed its banks for a short distance, a circumstance by no means undesirable to the travellers. The Nile had become to them like an old friend, and Fred declared that he felt unhappy whenever he could not see it. No doubt he would recover from the feeling, just as he could become accustomed to the absence of a personal friend; but for the present he wished the Nile ran all the way through Africa, and he could follow it till their journey was at an end. As they came near the river they saw several natives fishing from their rafts of ambatch reeds, such as we have already described. Some were lying quietly near the shore, while others were paddling about or floating with the current. Several river-horses were visible, but they were such a common sight in this part of the Nile that nobody gave them the least attention. Frank and Fred were standing on the bank, and happened to be looking at a raft which carried two men. Evidently one of them was blind, as his eyes were closed, and he carried no oar or paddle. Close by them was a hippopotamus of more than ordinary size, and Fred remarked that the raft seemed to be going directly for him. "The man at the stern doesn't see the beast," said Frank, "or he wouldn't be likely to run the risk of disturbing him." "I think so too," replied his cousin, "for they haven't anything to make a fight with, and if the 'hippo' attacks them they're in great danger." [Illustration: HIPPOPOTAMUS ATTACKING A RAFT.] Just as he spoke the bow of the raft touched the back of what Fred called the "hippo," and evidently touched him with considerable force. The animal turned, as Frank had predicted, and attacked the frail vessel with his enormous jaws. It was a brief combat, and an unequal one. The man at the bow was, as they afterward learned, stone-blind, and therefore unaware of the danger that threatened him. The beast seized him with the quickness of a flash, overturning the raft and upsetting the other man into the water. The victim of the attack was killed instantly. Other boats and rafts went to the rescue of the man struggling in the water, and he was saved from the crocodiles, with which the stream abounds. The hippopotamus went away unmolested, as the natives had no weapons that could make an impression on his thick hide. Doctor Bronson called for his heaviest rifle, but before he secured it the monarch of the river was safe below the waters. Abdul said that when Baker was ascending the Nile with his expedition they had considerable trouble with these animals; on several occasions they attacked the small boats at the stern of the larger ones, and seemed to regard them as personal enemies. [Illustration: A NIGHT ATTACK BY A RIVER-HORSE.] "One night," said Abdul, "we were all awakened by a tremendous splashing close to the boat, and the cry arose that a hippo was about attacking us. We ran on deck as fast as we could, and saw a hippo dashing about furiously, and throwing the water in all directions. We were lying close to a mud-bank, with the dahabeeah moored stem and stern; consequently one side was exposed to the river, and the beast had full tilt at it whenever he wanted. "He upset one of the boats as though it didn't weigh an ounce, and then he seized the other in his jaws and tried to crunch it. Mr. Baker was roused with the rest, and sent his servant for a rifle. He brought the rifle, but not the ammunition, and so the hippo had another chance at the boats while the man was gone a second time. The night was clear and the moon was up, so that the beast was distinctly visible. "The ammunition came, and then Mr. Baker took a shot at our enemy, but the fellow dashed about so much that it was a hard matter to get good aim. The spot where you can put a bullet in is very small, and unless you strike exactly on the place your shot is wasted. "The first ball didn't seem to stop him, and three or four more only made him more furious. He rocked the dahabeeah with his blows, and it seemed at one time that he would make a hole in her side. After six or eight shots he acted as though he didn't like the business. He went up to the bank, lay down in the mud, and his body was covered with the mud so that only his snout could be seen. "We all thought he would die, and after waiting nearly half an hour we went to bed. "We had just got fairly to sleep when he came at us again, as though he hadn't been hit at all. Mr. Baker gave him half a dozen bullets of the largest size, and among them were two explosive ones, that should have torn great holes in his flesh if they burst at the right moment. He went away after striking against the boat and trying to smash it, and then he came back once more, after a rest of a quarter of an hour. "This time he got all he wanted and a trifle more. He was a determined fighter, and evidently considered our presence an intrusion on his domain. After the final shots at him he stretched himself on the bank, and died there before daylight. "In the morning we had a council of war over the hippo, and took note of the shots it had required for settling him. Here is the result: "Three shots in the flank and shoulder, and four in the head. One of the head shots had broken his lower jaw, another passed through his nose and, passing downward, cut off one of his tusks. Mr. Baker said his body was covered with frightful scars of wounds received in his battles with animals of his own species, and there were several wounds still unhealed. One scar was about two feet long and two inches deep, and showed that his antagonist must have given him a lively turn before the fight was over. He was the worst of his kind I ever saw or heard of, and all the party were glad he had been killed. Perhaps the other hippos in the neighborhood were not at all sorry to part with him." In the afternoon they came to an encampment of ivory merchants, or rather to a village where several traders had a station for collecting their goods preparatory to starting for Gondokoro. The natives had brought in two or three dozen tusks of ivory, which were paid for in the usual currency of the country--beads, cloth, trinkets, and other "suc-suc," as goods for the African trade are called. [Illustration: TYING UP IVORIES FOR THE MARCH.] The boys were interested in looking at the piles of ivory lying on the ground and the men engaged in tying them up for transportation. The smaller tusks were tied in bundles of two or three, generally two, placed with the large end of one against the small end of the other, and then wrapped securely with strips of bark. The large tusks were wrapped singly, as they would make a load for one man, and sometimes a tusk of medium size was wrapped with a small one. To tie a bundle two men sat on the ground, and while one held the tusks firmly in place the other affixed the wrappings. The village consisted of a dozen or more huts, like enormous hay-cocks. They were made with a thick thatch of grass resting on a light but strong frame, and the work was so arranged that the thatch could be removed without difficulty, and leave the frame uncovered. This form of construction is found very convenient when it becomes necessary to move a village. The thatch is stripped off and thrown away, and the light frame, mounted on the heads of four or five negroes, is borne away as easily as though it were no more than a large basket. [Illustration: REMOVING A VILLAGE.] A day or two later our friends met one of these moving villages, and the youths had the opportunity of seeing the Africans on their march. Four men were carrying a house; one was dragging a bundle of withes used for interlacing the framework of the dwelling; another, with a long stick, was driving a couple of cows; another drove a sheep that was held by a string to prevent its straying; while two women carrying baskets brought up the rear. These people have few possessions, and therefore their changes of residence are easily performed. Doctor Bronson said he was reminded of the migrations of the roving Indians of the western part of the United States, where a village may be transferred from one spot to another at an hour's notice and leave scarcely a trace behind, except in the places where the tents had been pitched, and the piles of ashes where fires were kindled. One evening, while they were discussing their route and estimating the time it would take them to reach "Miani's Tree," Frank asked if they would go near the country of the Nyam-Nyams, the curious people described by the Italian explorer. "I am sorry to say it is out of our route," replied the Doctor. "It lies far to the west of where we are going, and therefore all that we learn about it we must take from others, and not from our own observation." "You said that the Dinka negro whom you saw at Cairo told you that the Nyam-Nyams rarely exceeded the height of the two dwarfs brought away by Miani," one of the boys remarked. "Exactly so," was the reply; "but because the negro made that assertion is no reason why we should accept it. However truthful the negro may be in his civilized condition in America, he is not always absolutely veracious in his native wilds. For 'conspicuous inexactness' it would not be easy to find his superior. "The same negro said it would take a year's travel from Khartoum to reach the country of the Nyam-Nyams. He certainly exaggerated considerably in that assertion, as a quarter of the time would be sufficient for the journey, provided there were no more than the ordinary delays. However, he may have included the hinderances which sometimes come from the unwillingness of a tribe to let strangers move on without a residence of a month or so among them. This is the custom in several parts of Africa, and many explorers have been greatly inconvenienced by it. [Illustration: A NYAM-NYAM DOG.] "Dr. Schweinfurth travelled among the Nyam-Nyams, and, while he does not make them so small as Miani represents them, he says they are not as large as the majority of the African race. He took the measurements of many of their men, and the tallest stature he found was five feet ten and a half inches. The upper part of the figure is long in proportion to the legs, and this peculiarity gives a strange character to their movements, though it does not impede their agility in their war-dances and in athletic sports. "He compares their complexion to the hue of a cake of chocolate. There are some variations of the color, but the ground-tint is always an earthy red in contrast to the bronze tinge of the Ethiopian races of Nubia. They are accustomed to make tattoo-marks upon their faces, and sometimes on other parts of their bodies, but do not practise this disfigurement as much as the natives of some of the South Sea Islands." Frank asked if they were as frugal in the matter of clothing as some of the people they had seen in their journey up the Nile. "They are not very lavish with their garments," was the reply, "but they wear more of them than do the Shillooks or the Dinkas. "Sometimes they wear a sort of tunic made of the bark of a tree, but their usual apparel consists of the skins of animals. They are not sewn together, but suspended from a girdle at the waist, and the finest and most beautiful skins are selected in preference to those of a sombre hue. The chiefs and other persons of high rank are allowed to cover their heads with skins, but the more ordinary mortals must rely upon straw hats or their natural thatch of woolly hair. "They devote much time and trouble to the ornamentation of their hair, and sometimes a man will spend an entire day in the arrangement of his head-dress for a grand occasion, and sit up all night to save it from derangement. The hair is braided and twisted in a variety of ways, and Dr. Schweinfurth says it would be difficult to discover any kind of plaits, tufts, or top-knots which has not already been tried by the men of the Nyam-Nyams. [Illustration: SINGULAR HEAD-DRESS OF A NYAM-NYAM.] "He describes a coiffure which he pronounces the most remarkable he had ever seen. The head of the owner was encircled by a series of rays, like the glory in the picture of a saint; these rays were made of the man's own hair, which had been drawn out in little tresses and stretched over a hoop, which was ornamented around the edge with cowrie-shells. It was held in place by four wires; these wires could be removed at night, in order that the hoop might be folded back and allow the victim to lie down to sleep. The inner ends of the wires were fixed to a conical straw-hat, ornamented with a plume, and this hat was kept in its proper position by means of numerous hair-pins. "They are fond of decorating their hair with a string of the incisor teeth of the dog; this is stretched along the forehead just at the edge of the hair, in the shape of a fringe, and the effect is not at all disagreeable even to the European eye. Then they hang on their breasts ornaments cut out of ivory in imitation of a large circle of lions' teeth, and you can readily understand that such a decoration makes a noticeable contrast with their dark skins. They care little for glass beads, and reject nearly all the varieties of those articles as worthless." Fred wished to know how large was the country of the Nyam-Nyams, and what was their mode of life. "The term Nyam-Nyam does not properly belong to them," said the Doctor, "but is the name by which the Dinkas describe them. It means 'eaters,' or 'great eaters,' and refers to the cannibalism which prevails among them." "If they are cannibals," Fred remarked, "I'm not at all sorry not to form too intimate an acquaintance with them. It would be pleasant to dine with the king, but I should object to his dining with me in the fashion the cannibals have of receiving strangers." "They are not the worst of cannibals," the Doctor continued, "and their principal sustenance is obtained from vegetable products, and from the chase. They are great hunters, and the men are supposed to be constantly occupied with hunting or fighting, while the women till the fields and perform all the labor of the house. They have generally a fertile soil, and what they raise from it is obtained with very little exertion. "The name by which they call themselves is 'Zandey,' and, in addition to the Dinka appellation of Nyam-Nyams, they are variously called Manyanya, Madyaka, Kakkarakka, Kunda, and Babungera by their neighbors. Their country lies between the fourth and sixth degrees of north latitude, and covers an area of about fifty thousand square miles, between Darfoor and the valley of the Congo. The population is estimated at about two millions; but, of course, this is only an estimate, as they have no organized government, and never heard of taking the census. "They are not familiar with fire-arms, their weapons being spears, knives, and clubs; and in their fighting expeditions every man carries a large shield--nearly large enough to cover him. Their only domestic animals are dogs and chickens, and both of these animals are useful as food. Dog's flesh is considered a great delicacy, and many of the wealthiest of the natives have a regular system of fattening dogs for their tables. [Illustration: A NYAM-NYAM GRANARY.] "They have granaries for storing their grain, and sometimes a single family will have two or three of these warehouses. They are constructed with a wide thatch for keeping off the heavy rains that fall periodically, and are mounted on posts covered with cement, so that they will not be eaten away by insects. The houses are grouped in little villages, and generally placed with a view to being near land that is easily cultivated; they are nearly always of a conical shape, like those of the Shillooks, and provided with strong doors, to prevent attacks from wild beasts. There are small huts, with bell-shaped roofs and narrow doors, where the boys sleep at night. The door is at least three feet above the ground, so as to insure the safety of the youngsters against lions and other disagreeable visitors. [Illustration: HUT FOR BOYS.] "While among the Nyam-Nyams, Dr. Schweinfurth saw a good many hunters and soldiers of the Akkas, a tribe of negroes occupying a region which he was unable to visit. He succeeded in obtaining one of these curious people, and brought him down the Nile, but, unfortunately, he died at Berber, on his way to Cairo. The Akkas are probably the smallest people of Central Africa, and are sometimes mentioned as a race of pygmies." [Illustration: AN AKKA WARRIOR.] "Perhaps they are the nation of dwarfs, instead of the Nyam-Nyams," Frank observed. "They are certainly more entitled to the name than their neighbors," was the reply. "The one which Dr. Schweinfurth brought to Berber was four feet seven inches high. Six full-grown men that he measured were only four feet ten inches, and from all he could learn a man of five feet or more was uncommon." [Illustration: DR. SCHWEINFURTH'S PYGMY.] "But are there not other tribes of Africans of about the same proportions?" one of the youths asked. "Certainly," said Doctor Bronson, "and they seem to extend nearly across the continent under the line of the equator, though not entirely so. They are not dwarfs in the ordinary meaning of the word, but simply a people of diminutive stature. They are generally of a lighter complexion than the true Ethiopian, and with some of them the body is more or less thickly covered with hair. Some travellers have described them as only three or four feet high, but their statements are unconfirmed. The Bushmen of South Africa are of the same reduced proportions as the Akkas, and the measurements we have of them are almost identical with those taken by Dr. Schweinfurth among the Akkas." One of the boys asked Doctor Bronson what his opinion was concerning the origin of these little people. The Doctor replied that he could do no better than quote from the learned explorer from whom he had taken the account of the Nyam-Nyams: "Scarcely a doubt can exist but that all these people, like the Bushmen of South Africa, may be considered as the scattered remains of an aboriginal population now becoming extinct; and their isolated and sporadic existence bears out the hypothesis. For centuries after centuries Africa has been experiencing the effects of many immigrations. For thousands of years one nation has been driving out another; and, as the result of repeated subjugations and interminglings of race with race, such manifold changes have been introduced into the conditions of existence that the succession of new phases, like the development in the world of plants, appears almost, as it were, to open a glimpse into the infinite." [Illustration: STANDING FOR HIS PORTRAIT.] CHAPTER XI. ARRIVAL AT AFUDDO.--DIVISION OF ROUTES.--FRANK'S DEPARTURE. [Illustration: CROSSING A MARSH.] The weather in the early part of the march from Gondokoro was fine, but Abdul predicted that it was too beautiful to last. Sure enough, it came on to rain one morning, and Frank pronounced it the "wettest rain" he had seen for some time. It poured as though great flood-gates had been opened in the sky, and rendered the ground so soft that the feet of the horses sunk out of sight in the mud. Occasionally the way led over marshes, which were not difficult to cross in the dry season, but when soaked with water they became anything but agreeable. It was dangerous to remain on horseback, owing to the liability to stumbling of the animals, and in such places our friends were obliged to dismount and make their way on foot. [Illustration: A WET ROAD.] Macintosh coats were useful, but even these garments could not keep out the moisture, which penetrated every little crevice where there was the least chance of an entrance. Luckily the rain was a warm one, and nobody suffered any inconvenience from the temperature. As long as a reasonably high temperature can be maintained there is no great suffering, beyond the liability to contract fevers and other diseases, but when the traveller has cold and wet combined his condition is pitiable. The boys maintained their spirits by laughing as they picked their way among the mud-holes, and a stranger would have thought they were enjoying the weary tramp. It was not at all pleasing; but the youths argued that "what can't be cured must be endured," and the best way of enduring the discomfort was to keep up the pretence of enjoying it. The rain had the effect of driving the mosquitoes to shelter, so that, while drenched with the downpour, the boys were temporarily relieved from the necessity of fighting those tiny destroyers of the traveller's peace; but it brought out many leeches, especially in the marshy ground, and the porters occasionally halted to free their limbs from these annoyances. Frank asked if it would bring them a visitation of snakes, and was glad to learn from Abdul that most of the African snakes are not fond of rain, and would probably stay at home, unless called out on urgent business. The tents were pitched on the dryest spot that could be found, and the travellers sought their shelter before all the pegs had been driven into the ground. The earth had been levelled a little, partly to form a floor, and partly to remove the moist earth of the surface, and nobody had given any attention to a hole near the roots of a bush which had been cut away in the levelling process. Frank was busy with his toilet-bag, when he thought he felt a movement of the earth under his feet. He stepped a little to one side to see what it meant, and very soon found out. The head of a snake appeared from beneath the ground, and a pair of eyes contemplated the youth with an expression anything but friendly. Frank then remembered the hole in the ground to which we have alluded, and was not long in concluding that they had camped over the residence of a serpent. Fortunately, he was close to the entrance of the tent, and instantly converted it into an exit. He shouted for Abdul, and as that individual appeared the story of the intrusion was quickly narrated. The servants were called, and soon despatched the snake. Fred observed that it was not much of a snake, as it was only seven feet long, which was a tiny affair for Africa. Frank retorted that when snakes were under consideration the measurement was of little consequence, as he had an antipathy to the whole family, big and little. They unanimously decided that the location of the tent was undesirable, as the contents of the hole were unknown. "We don't want to be seeing snakes all night," said Frank, "and we shall be pretty likely to do so unless we change our base." [Illustration: A SNAKE IN CAMP.] The tent was moved a dozen yards or so, and if there were any more snakes in that hole they had no occasion to complain of disturbance. Another snake was killed close to the camp, and altogether it seemed as if their lines had not fallen in pleasant places. The snakes were not without their uses, as they were carried off by some of the black soldiers of the detachment, and soon found their way into the cooking-pot. Abdul said there were not many snake-eaters in the detachment, but enough of them to make any ordinary serpent come handy. "The flesh," said he, "is as sweet as that of a chicken, and it is only prejudice that keeps us from trying it." Of course the incident led to anecdotes of a snaky character, and between dinner and the hour of retiring there were many wonderful narrations. The precaution of sleeping with the legs crossed or stretched wide apart was again enjoined upon the youths, in case they wanted to save themselves from pythonic deglutition. Abdul repeated a tale he had heard of a snake on the banks of Tanganyika Lake that used to swallow the natives when they paddled their rafts near his lair. He was large enough to take in man and boat at a single gulp, and the boats seemed to aid his digestion instead of injuring it. Ali said that in his country the antelopes were so large they would be mistaken for elephants, except for their shape; and his statement was verified by another narrator, who declared that in his native place the goats were provided with trunks like elephants, while the chickens had heads and necks like serpents, and could inflict a bite which was instantly fatal. Another disciple of the marvellous told of cats larger than cows, and mice like bull-dogs, and he averred that his brother had been in a country where the flies were used as horses, and a strong fly could carry a man five or ten miles without lighting down for a rest. The next day the weather was better, but the necessity of drying the camp equipage prevented an early start. Everybody rejoiced at the reappearance of the sun, and the horses and donkeys seemed to share in the pleasure of the return of the clear sky. In the last camp before they reached Miani's Tree, Doctor Bronson told the youths he had a plan for their future movements which he had been carefully considering for several days, and would now unfold to them. "It is this," said the Doctor: "from Afuddo we have a choice of two routes to the country of King M'tesa--one by land, and one by water. If the steamer is in running order we can explore the Albert N'yanza, making the circuit of the lake, and ascending the Somerset River, or Victoria Nile, to Murchison Falls, twenty-two miles above the river's mouth. "The other route is altogether by land, through the M'rooli country, to Foueira, the station of the Egyptian troops where our detachment is going. "Now, what I have been considering is for our party to divide, and thus cover both routes. Frank and Abdul can continue with the soldiers to Foueira, while Fred and I will go with the steamer to Murchison Falls. We can meet either at the Falls or at Foueira. In the former case Fred will come down the river to join us, and in the latter we will ascend the river route, to meet him at the station." Both boys were delighted with the proposition. They were sorry to be separated after having travelled so long together, but they realized that the time would not be long, and they would be using their eyes to better advantage than if they both continued on one route. "You can describe the lake," said Frank to his cousin, "and I will tell about the journey by land. Abdul and I can get along all right, I think, and we shall be well protected by the soldiers. You ought to have an escort as well as I, and I presume the Doctor will arrange all that with the commander." [Illustration: SCENE NEAR AFUDDO.] The new plan was the subject of a good deal of conversation between the youths at every opportunity for the rest of the march to Afuddo. On their arrival at that point they were eager to learn if the steamer was in good condition for the voyage, and their first inquiry was concerning her. "The steamer is all right," said the Doctor, as soon as he had delivered his letter to the officer in command of the post. "She is lying at Duflé, the point whence Mr. Gessi started for the first steam voyage on the Albert N'yanza, and we can have her ready to leave in a very short time." There was some unwelcome intelligence concerning the land route to Foueira. The Shooli and Umiro people, through whose territory the road passes, had recently shown signs of hostility. They had attacked several trading caravans, and while some had defended themselves successfully, others had been broken up or compelled to retreat. There was a prospect that Frank and Abdul might see some fighting if they continued with the land party, and Fred suggested that it might be better to abandon that route and all go by steamer. Frank opposed this change of plan, and said he was quite willing to take the risk of the land journey. He felt that the troops would be able to take care of themselves if they were attacked. He believed that the Remington rifle, in the hands of a soldier, would be a safe defence against a thousand native spears and arrows. He argued farther that he did not come to Africa to expect travel would be as safe as at home, and it would indicate a faint heart if he should be frightened by the mere rumor of trouble. Doctor Bronson asked the youths to defer their decision till he could confer with the officer in command of the post at Afuddo, and also with Captain Mohammed, under whose escort they were travelling. The conference was held early the next morning, and the boys anxiously awaited the Doctor's report concerning it. "We had a long talk over the troubles among the Shoolis and Umiros," said the Doctor as he returned to their tents, "and the reports are not encouraging. Still, I am of opinion that there is no great danger, since the soldiers are well armed and disciplined. They will not attack the natives unless seriously threatened by them, as their instructions are not to make trouble, but to act only on the defensive. "Therefore I see no good reason why Frank should not continue as we had proposed. Perhaps Fred and I will go with him the first day's march, and if no serious intelligence comes in that time he can continue. If actual war has been declared he can turn back and accompany us by the lake route." The question having been settled, the party at once proceeded to divide the baggage and make the necessary arrangements for the two journeys. The division was easily accomplished, as all the cases were marked and numbered according to a list, of which each of the travellers and also the dragoman had a copy. Frank took only what was needed for his journey, including a good supply of ammunition and a couple of rifles for himself and Abdul, so that they could do their share of fighting in case of necessity. All the heavy baggage, and such things as were intended for use at King M'tesa's court and after the visit to that monarch, went by the steamers, as the easiest and safest mode of transport. The most of the day was consumed in the arrangement, and it was not till late in the afternoon that Frank and Fred had an opportunity to take a stroll around the village near which their camp had been placed. It was a collection of huts much like those of the other villages they had seen on the route, and consequently there was nothing new for them to look at. Outside the village were a few fields and gardens, and the boys remarked how easily the region might be made to produce abundantly. The soil had an appearance of great fertility, and under the rude cultivation of the natives the fields had a luxuriant aspect. "It is a land," said Fred, quoting from Bishop Heber, "'Where every prospect pleases, And only man is vile.'" "Yes," answered Frank, "and if it ever comes under European management it can be made the seat of an important commerce. All the products of the tropics flourish here; and when the natives learn to be industrious, and adopt the habits and customs of civilization, they can compete successfully with the people of similar lands in Asia." [Illustration: A CARAVAN OF AN IVORY-TRADER.] The conversation was interrupted by the appearance of a caravan coming from the south, and straggling very irregularly along the road. Fred pronounced it the most motley crowd he had seen since leaving Gondokoro, and Frank immediately produced his note-book to take down the characteristics of the group. "The riding animals," said he, "are oxen and donkeys, instead of horses. Each of the ox-riders has a child clinging on the rump of his steed, while the donkeys are ridden by negroes, armed with rifles and sabres. Two men on foot carry the flags of the leader, and these are unfurled whenever a band of natives is encountered. Then there are goats and cows following the procession, and the rear is brought up by the ivory porters with their burdens." [Illustration: AN IVORY PORTER.] They followed the caravan, which passed close to their tents and proceeded to some huts a few hundred yards beyond. There the burdens of the porters were deposited, and for a time the scene was decidedly animated. Abdul joined the youths as they were looking at the caravan, and explained to them that it belonged to one of the wandering traders such as we have already described. "He is the agent of one of the firms at Khartoum," said the dragoman, "and, from the number of burdens he has just brought in, he has evidently made a successful tour. The children that you saw are doubtless intended as merchandise quite as much as the ivory. Though slavery has been abolished here the merchants do not hesitate to indulge in it, and the government officials frequently connive at their so doing. But it is diminishing every year, and will dwindle steadily as the power of the government increases." "What great risks are taken, and what hardships men undergo," said Fred, "in search of ivory! They traverse Africa, encountering its fevers, and its dangers from beasts and men and serpents; they make long journeys where there are few of the comforts of life, and suffer all kinds of privations, and all in pursuit of wealth to be derived from the tusk of the elephant. The men who bring the ivory from the African wilds are only a little less to be pitied than the huge animal that yields it." "The difference in their case," his cousin retorted, "is, that their act is voluntary, while that of the elephant is sorely against his will. He has no desire to surrender his tusks, especially when his life must be surrendered at the same time, while they could seek some other employment." "I have been looking up the subject of ivory," responded Fred, "and find that the elephant hasn't a monopoly of the business. The tusks of the hippopotamus, the walrus, the narwhal, and some other animals are included under the name of ivory, and have nearly the same uses." "But not exactly the same," was the reply. "Several high authorities contend that the name only belongs properly to the product of the elephant, which has a different composition from that of other animals. A cross-section of an elephant's tusk has the appearance of circular lines, intersecting each other, so as to form lozenge-shaped figures with curved boundaries; this feature exists in no other kind of tusk, and is the distinguishing mark of elephant ivory. "There is a vegetable ivory which is used for making small articles, but it is too soft to wear well, and tarnishes very easily. It is the kernel of a nut that grows in Peru and New Granada. The tree is a species of palm, and the ivory corresponds to the meat of the familiar cocoa-nut. Perhaps somebody will invent a process for converting the cocoa-nut into ivory, and then the article will be a good deal cheaper than it is." "What would be the use?" said Fred. "Haven't we several imitations of ivory already? Have you forgotten celluloid?" "Quite true," replied Frank; "but then celluloid, while greatly resembling ivory, is far from equalling it. Men who play at billiards say the balls made of celluloid have a dead sound when struck, and that the same is the case with all other imitations. However, there is no doubt that celluloid can take the place of ivory for many uses, and the elephants ought to have a mass meeting, and send a vote of thanks to the man who invented it." "Perhaps I've got a question you can't answer," said Fred. "What is the composition of ivory?" "I've informed myself on that point," replied Frank, with a smile. "Ivory contains twenty-four per cent. of animal matter, sixty-four of phosphate of lime, a little more than eleven per cent. of water, and the balance is carbonate of lime and other insignificant ingredients. The water and animal matter are dried away by long exposure, and for this reason ivory is apt to turn yellow and change its form. Billiard-balls require to be turned occasionally to correct these changes. They generally shrink or expand more in the direction of the width of the tusks than in that of their length, and consequently the makers of these articles are accustomed to shape them roughly at first, and then keep them for months in a warm room before finishing. "A gentleman who has studied the statistics of the ivory trade says the total amount of ivory imported into Great Britain during the nine years from 1873 to 1881 inclusive was 5286 tons. The whole number of tusks being known, the average weight per pair can be easily ascertained. This average is put at forty pounds, which is above rather than below the true weight. Assuming this to be correct, the 5286 tons of ivory represent 296,016 pairs of tusks, and consequently the same number of elephants, that have died long ago or have been slaughtered in later times to supply the demands of luxury for the past nine years. At this rate of destruction it will be seen how rapidly this noble animal must disappear, and how surely ivory will become a thing of the past. The highest price paid at a recent sale in Liverpool for the best African ivory was at the rate of $6740 per ton, or more than three dollars per pound. "If," concluded Frank, "you want another lecture on ivory please give me fair warning, so that I can get my information in proper shape." They returned to camp just as dinner was announced. Of course the chief topic of conversation was the proposed exploration of the Albert N'yanza and the land journey to Foueira. [Illustration: THE CENTRAL AFRICAN STEAMER "KHEDIVE."] The next morning the boys accompanied Doctor Bronson on a visit to the _Khedive_, the steamer in which the voyage on the Albert N'yanza was to be made. They found a handsome boat, of the dimensions already given, and propelled by a screw instead of paddles. It had two masts, so that sails could be spread in case the engines were disabled; and it had an awning extending the entire length of the deck, to shelter its passengers from the heat of the tropical sun. Below deck there were several comfortable cabins, and there were quarters for the crew, and a well-fitted galley for the cook's use. Altogether they were pleased with the boat, and Frank began to wish that he had not been so persistent about making the journey by land. But an instant's reflection drove away the thought, and he was firmer than ever in his purpose. The _Khedive_ was all ready for service, and only needed to be provisioned and supplied with the necessary fuel for working her engines. A Scotch engineer, named Cameron, was in charge of her, with a couple of Arab assistants. He was quite willing to be employed, and declared himself heartily weary of lying idle for six months, waiting for something to do, and constantly expecting orders that never came. Doctor Bronson told him to get ready as soon as he liked; and in order that there could be no mistake about it he showed his authority from the government officials at Cairo, and also those from the commander of the district at Gondokoro. Mr. Cameron said he would have the provisions and fuel on board in a couple of days, provided he had the assistance of the commander of the post to compel the people to work. They needed a little urging, he said, and the best way of urging them was to put them under the guard of a file of soldiers. Our friends were well aware that the two days would grow to four or five, as nothing is ever done in Africa in the time agreed upon. So it was decided that Frank should continue his journey with the escort, which was to leave the next day, and the Doctor and Fred would accompany him for the first day's journey, as agreed. This would cause no detention of the boat, as their baggage could be put on board in a few hours when the _Khedive_ was in readiness. They were off in good season in the morning, and made their camp in a pretty little valley, close by a brook that reminded the boys of a similar stream near their birthplace. The next morning the good-byes and good wishes were pronounced, and the travellers turned away from each other. There were tears in their eyes as their hands met in a farewell clasp; their utterance was so choked by the lumps in their throats that the words they forced out were indistinct. Africa is a land of dangers and uncertainties, and perhaps they were destined not to meet again. No wonder there was sadness at the separation, or that Frank regretfully parted with friends he loved so well, and by whom he was warmly cherished. At last the windings of the road hid them from view, and he turned resolutely with his gaze directed toward the equator. CHAPTER XII. DEPARTURE OF THE TWO EXPEDITIONS.--IN THE SHOOLI COUNTRY.--ATTACKED IN AN AMBUSCADE. The horses were sent with Frank, as they would be of no use in the steamboat journey, and it was arranged that they should be at Murchison Falls in exactly a month from the date of departure from Afuddo, if everything went well. Captain Mohammed said a month would suffice for the journey, if they had no detentions on the road. To cover contingencies, an allowance of eight days was added to the above period, so that it was agreed to meet on the thirty-eighth day, unless prevented by some unforeseen circumstance. Fred had wondered how the Doctor and himself would return to Afuddo from their day's journey with Frank. The horses were to leave them, and he saw no alternative but a pedestrian journey, to which he was not at all inclined. Satisfied that Doctor Bronson had considered the case, and made proper provision for it, he asked no questions, though he could not help revolving the subject in mind. The morning of their departure for the return to Afuddo solved the mystery. A large ox, with wide horns, that suggested impalement to any one who insulted their wearer, was led up for the Doctor, and a similar beast for the youth. The animals were saddled and bridled, the bridle passing through the cartilage of the nose, which is the weak point of the bovine race, and an excellent holding-ground for a driving-rein. As Fred looked at it he remembered how he had seen savage bulls held in check by a ring through the nose, and concluded that the Africans knew what they were about when they harnessed their saddle-oxen in this way. "I remember now," he exclaimed, "reading about Anderson and Livingstone riding on oxen in their African journeys. Anderson says he rode one ox more than two thousand miles. He became much attached to his horned steed, and declared that he preferred the ox to the horse." [Illustration: WINWOOD READE'S OX AND HAMMOCK TRAIN.] "Yes," replied the Doctor; "oxen are not as fast as horses, but they will endure more, and keep fat where a horse would starve. Where there is plenty of food a horse is to be preferred, but in a country where the herbage is scant, and you must travel day after day and week after week, the ox is the superior animal. He is slow but sure in his movements, and will get over rough ground better than a horse. Winwood Reade says he is sulky and revengeful, but this is contrary to the testimony of other travellers. Mr. Reade had some saddle-oxen in his train, but his favorite mode of riding was by hammock, on the shoulders of porters. "I had arranged for porters with hammocks to carry us back to Afuddo in case the oxen failed to arrive. But they are here all right; and as everything is ready we will mount and be off." Early in the afternoon they were once more in their camp on the banks of the Nile, and discussing the plans for departure up the river. As Doctor Bronson had predicted, the two days of preparation were extended to four, and it was not till the fifth day that they were ready to start. All the baggage was carried on board in the evening, and the two explorers slept on deck, beneath the awnings. The cabins were too hot for comfort, and so full of mosquitoes that several smudges and a vigorous use of brooms and switches could not expel them. The deck was much more agreeable, and it was voted that, while the cabins might be useful as dressing-rooms, they were undesirable for lodging-places. The steamer was off about nine o'clock in the morning, and headed against the strong current of the Nile in the direction of the Albert N'yanza. Late in the afternoon a bend of the stream revealed the widening that betokened the entrance of the lake, and in a little while the _Khedive_ was afloat on the waters of the lowest of the lakes that form the head-waters of the mysterious river of Egypt. We will leave the _Khedive_ and her passengers and return to Frank, whom we left on his southward travels a day beyond Afuddo. His journal will tell the story of his experiences. "I had a sad heart all day after parting from my friends," said the youth in his note-book, "and was unable to see much beauty in the landscape. The country was well but not richly timbered, and I observed that the road ascended steadily as we moved away from the river. We passed many villages, all of the same general appearance, and I began to be weary of the succession of grass-thatched huts. The people looked at us indifferently, and sometimes came out to beg or try to sell us some of the products of their little fields. They did not display any hostility, but Abdul said we were not yet in the country where we might look for opposition. [Illustration: NEAR THE SHORE OF THE LAKE.] "Our camp was made in a small valley, and close by a ravine that was easily turned into a cattle-yard. A fence of African thorns was built across each end of the ravine, and as the sides were too steep for the cattle to climb easily they did not climb at all. The guard around the camp was doubled, for fear of accident, and Captain Mohammed said he should have a double guard every night till we arrived at Foueira. "There was an alarm during the night, caused by one of the guards discharging his rifle at a hyena that came near him. Everybody turned out, in expectation that a fight was on hand; but when the cause of the disturbance was explained we soon went to bed again. I thought the guard should be reprimanded for his act, but Abdul said he was commended for his watchfulness; and when I heard the explanation I thought he was right after all. "Abdul said that a few years before, at one of the posts in the Bari country, the sentinel on duty at a certain point was found dead one morning, and the indications were that he had been strangled. His gun and all his equipments were gone, and there was no trace of the assailant. The next night another man was killed at the same place, and the third night the guard was doubled. "Nothing happened there that night, nor was there anything worthy of note when the guard consisted of more than one man. But whenever the sentinel was alone he was strangled, and the same thing happened at two or three points where sentinels were stationed. "The men had orders to fire at anything suspicious, but somehow they did not seem to have suspected anything till too late. "One night a man went on duty, and received the usual orders to fire at anything suspicious, and to stop any man that came near him. [Illustration: CROSSING A SMALL STREAM.] "'I shall fire at the least thing, whether suspicious or not,' was his reply. 'If I hear a leaf rustling when I think it should not do so, I shall fire, and I hope not to be punished for it.' "The captain said he might do exactly as he liked; and with this understanding he went to his post. "The relief had been gone nearly an hour when the report of his gun was heard. The guard immediately went to see what was the trouble; and as they reached the place they saw the soldier dragging the body of a Bari, which was partially dressed in the skin of a hyena. "The mystery was explained. Hyenas are so common in this part of Africa that nobody pays any attention to them, and a soldier on duty would never dream of discharging his gun at one of these beasts. The negroes had taken advantage of this circumstance to kill the guards around the camp. "The soldier said that the relief-guard was not out of sight before he saw a hyena come over the crest of the hill close by and look in his direction. He thought nothing of the circumstance, as the hyenas were constantly prowling around the camp in search of food; the intruder imitated perfectly the motions of the creature, and he never suspected it was anything else. "'They will laugh at me,' he said to himself, 'if I shoot at a hyena, and I shall be ridiculed all through the camp. The captain gave me permission to shoot in case a leaf rustled, or there was the least sound more than ordinary, and I should do so. But a hyena is so ordinary, and such a common sight around the camp, that I won't throw away a shot on him.' "While thinking in this way he kept his eye fixed on the beast, which appeared to be circling slowly around, and moving in the direction of a bush close to his post. As he watched he thought he observed a step that was not exactly like that of a hyena. The creature was not more than twenty paces from him, and advancing very slowly, as it paused to turn with its nose every bit of offal, every stick and small stone that lay in its way, as if on the keen hunt for food, and paying no attention to the presence of the soldier. "To make certain that there was no deception the soldier stamped on the ground with his foot and hissed loudly. The hyena darted back, as though frightened, but he soon reappeared in quest of food. "'I'll fire, anyway,' said the soldier to himself; and when the hyena was again within about twenty paces he suddenly turned and discharged his rifle at the animal. "The beast of prey shrieked in a very human manner, and instantly straightened out its limbs in a way still more human than its cry of agony had been. The soldier reloaded his rifle, and then went to look at the result of his shot. "He found an athletic young negro, armed only with a long knife, and a strong cord a couple of yards in length. The secret was explained. "The negro could imitate the motions of the hyena, and the animal was in the habit of coming so close to the camp that nobody gave him any attention. In this way he could get within a few feet of the soldier, and directly behind him; watching the chance to throw his cord around the sentinel's neck, he was able to strangle his victim without raising an alarm. Ever since that time the soldiers of the Egyptian service are allowed to fire at hyenas that come within twenty yards, if there is any reason to believe they are in a hostile region. "The next night a trap was set for Mr. Hyena, in case he should come around the camp, and he fell into it. There was a report of a gun, but it was some little distance from the lines, and did not wake anybody. The hyena suffered more than anybody else. [Illustration: AN ATTRACTION FOR A HYENA.] "Abdul told me how it was managed, and certainly it was a trap that would catch any ordinary beast, unsuspicious of evil intentions on the part of his neighbors. "A gun was placed at the foot of a tree, the butt resting on the ground, and the muzzle elevated at an angle of about forty degrees. It was loaded heavily, as nobody was expected to have his shoulder broken by the recoil, and then a piece of meat was placed on the muzzle, with a string attached and leading down to the trigger. The arrangement was such that the disturbance of the meat would discharge the gun and send the contents into anything that happened to be in front of the muzzle. "A hyena came along during the night, and the result was very bad for him as he attempted to appropriate the meat, and fell a victim to his appetite. His head was nearly blown from his body, and he must have had it close to the muzzle of the weapon at the moment of the discharge. "Nothing important happened on the second or the third day. We heard no more of any hostilities till the morning of the fourth day, when we reached a village, where only a few people were to be seen. There was not a woman or child present--always a bad sign in Africa. "When the natives are bent on mischief, or expect trouble of any kind, they send their families out of sight. This is invariably the case when they meditate an attack on a camp. They come in under pretence of desiring to trade, and at a given signal the fight begins. Experienced travellers in Africa always observe the composition of a group of natives, and keep their rifles in readiness, if it consists only of men. "Captain Mohammed ordered the soldiers to load their guns, and be very watchful during the march. Twenty rounds of cartridges were distributed to each man, and other cases of ammunition were ready to be opened if they should be wanted. "A little before noon we came to a stream which it was necessary to cross by fording. The banks were lined with tall reeds, and Abdul remarked that it was an excellent place for an ambuscade. Hardly had he spoken before an arrow whizzed from the reeds and narrowly missed one of the men who was entering the water preparatory to wading over. Evidently there was trouble in store for us. "Twenty soldiers were sent ahead to clear the way. They advanced slowly, as it was impossible to see any distance among the bushes, and it was quite possible for an enemy to be within a few feet of you without being discovered. [Illustration: ATTACK IN AN AMBUSCADE.] "The natives were not slow to appear, and only a few shots had been fired before a hundred dusky forms were visible, moving rapidly among the tall reeds. Each man carried a spear and a shield, and some had bows and arrows. Luckily they had not yet been able to procure fire-arms, or they might have made our march very uncomfortable. "The rude weapons of the negro were no match for the Remington rifle, and in less than half an hour the space around the ford was cleared of our enemies. The worst feature of the business was the promise it made of delays, and perhaps a good deal of fighting, before we could reach the end of our journey. "One of the negroes was wounded slightly in the foot, which prevented his running away, though the matter was not at all serious. He fell into our hands, and the captain at once sent for an interpreter and questioned the man as to the reason of the attack. "The negro explained that his people, the Shoolis, had recently suffered considerably from the slave-hunters who had come to destroy their villages and carry the prisoners into slavery. Consequently war had been declared against all men coming from Khartoum or Gondokoro under the pretence of buying ivory, and our expedition would not be likely to get to the Victoria Nile without a great deal of trouble. "This was serious news indeed, and as soon as we reached a good place for making a camp we halted and spread the tents. We wanted a spot that could be easily defended in case of attack. In order to protect ourselves we threw up a line of thorn-fences, completely inclosing the camp. There is nothing better than a fence of thorns to hold off these negroes; they wear no clothing, except an antelope-skin over the shoulders, and consequently have a profound respect for the stout thorn that grows in this country, and has a point like that of a darning-needle. "Captain Mohammed decided to remain in camp till he could have an interview with the chief of the region through which we desired to pass. He thought he could convince the chief that we were his friends, as we had come to suppress slavery instead of protecting the business. The best way of coming to the negotiation would be to send for the chief and wait patiently till he came to camp. Luckily he was not far off, and the messengers departed immediately. According to the custom of the country they carried presents, to assure him that no treachery was intended. "I wanted to go on a hunting excursion the next day, but the captain said he would not permit it, as it would be dangerous. The natives would certainly attack me, and they had every advantage, by the facility with which they could conceal themselves in the grass or behind the trees. [Illustration: TWO OF OUR PORTERS.] "So there was nothing to do but wait and keep within our lines. Fortunately, we did not have a long delay, as the hostile chief was easily found, and came to camp a little past noon--a promptness not at all characteristic of his country. I was permitted to be present at the interview, and observed the dress and manners of the chief. "He was a finely formed man, about fifty years old, well built and muscular, and evidently in robust health. The Shoolis are not as tall in stature as the Shillooks or Dinkas, but have better figures. Sir Samuel Baker calls the men of the tribe the best proportioned that he saw in Africa, and other travellers confirm his opinion. The women are rather short in stature, but equally muscular with the men. [Illustration: ANTELOPE OF THE SHOOLI COUNTRY (FEMALE).] "The dress of the chief consisted of an antelope-skin thrown across his shoulders, and covering the lower part of his body like a scarf. This is the usual garment of the Shoolis, and, as the tribe is a numerous one, and the clothing does not last long, there is a great slaughter of antelopes every year to keep up the supply. The chief's followers were clad exactly like himself; but his robe was larger and finer than the rest, and he carried a spear with a tuft of feathers at the end, the weapons of his followers being without decoration. [Illustration: ANTELOPE OF THE SHOOLI COUNTRY (MALE).] "They all came, to the number of twenty or more, to the tent of the captain; and as there were nearly as many of ourselves at the conference, the tent was not large enough to hold us. So we adjourned to the shade of a tree outside, where a carpet was spread for the chief, while his followers stretched upon the grass around him. Captain Mohammed, his two aids, and myself sat in camp-chairs directly in front of the chief, and the interpreters and the dragoman stood near us. "The conference opened by a statement of grievances by the chief, who said that the slave-dealers had plundered his villages and carried away his people, and he had determined to prevent farther intrusion if possible. To this end he had ordered that all the roads entering his territory should be guarded, and any men who ventured to come in from the north should be driven back. He was acting in accord with the tribes farther south, and also with the more powerful Kaba Rega, King of Unyoro. War had not actually been declared; but, unless there was a certainty of better treatment by the merchants from Gondokoro, they would admit no more Egyptians, and the posts at Fatiko and Foueira would be attacked. "His story took some time in the narration, on account of the necessity of frequent pauses to allow the interpreter to translate. As soon as he had finished Captain Mohammed replied with the assurance that the Egyptians were friends of the Shoolis, and the great desire of the Khedive at Cairo was to put an end to slavery and the slave-trade. "The chief was not altogether pleased with this reply, as his people have no particular objection to the slave-trade, so long as it is conducted without violence, and especially when they are the gainers thereby. If they could be protected while plundering their neighbors and making prisoners to sell on their own account, they would regard slavery as a divine institution; but when the tables are turned and the Shoolis are the prisoners and the merchandise, the matter has a different aspect. It reminds me of the school-boy story of the goring of the ox. "Captain Mohammed saw how his speech was received, and therefore, like a wily Arab, hastened to change it. He assured the chief that we had not come to disturb them, but to protect them from all enemies, white and black alike, and that as long as the power of Egypt was recognized the Shoolis should not be carried into slavery. "This was more agreeable to the views of the savage, and the negotiations went on more smoothly. "Coffee was served, and the chief drank it eagerly. A second and then a third cup was handed to him, and the beverage had the effect of making him more inclined to listen to reason. The result was that the terms of peace were arranged, and the captain and the chief became 'blood brothers.' Blood brotherhood is a peculiarity of Africa, and is described by Livingstone, Baker, and other explorers. "The men who are to become related in this way make slight punctures in each others arms, and then swallow a drop of the blood that flows from the wound. The ceremony is not a pleasing one to look at, and I do not care to be present a second time. It occupied only a few moments, and quite likely both parties were glad to have it over as soon as possible. "The chief agreed to order his people to cease hostilities; but, as it would take a certain time to convey the intelligence through his country, it would be best for us to wait a couple of days where we were. The captain protested that the delay would be inconvenient, as we had a good many mouths to feed, and the consumption of provisions was serious. "'I will show you how to get fresh provisions,' said the chief. 'There is to be a grand hunt to-morrow, and you shall see it, and have a share of the proceeds.' "Then he told us that the hunt was to come off the next day, a few miles to the east of our camp, and he invited us to go. I was very glad he did so, as it gave me a chance to see something of which I had read in Baker's account of his expedition, as well as in the works of other travellers. The Shoolis are great hunters; in fact, their country is so full of game that they have every reason to be fond of the chase." CHAPTER XIII. FRANK ON A HUNTING EXCURSION.--DRIVING THE PLAIN WITH FIRE. While we were getting ready for the hunt Abdul told me something that rather surprised me. He said the game-laws of Africa were as exact as those of England, at least in many parts of the country, and that their infringement often led to severe punishment. There are large areas of country, with very few inhabitants, which are much like the game-preserves in England. The animals run at large, and are undisturbed except at certain seasons of the year, when the grand hunts take place. Then the natives assemble for the chase, and the hunt is conducted on a grand scale. The ground is the property of certain chiefs or large owners, and a part of the proceeds of the hunt belongs to them. "In this region the favorite mode of hunting is by means of nets. Every man has a net of strong cord. It is about forty feet long and eleven feet deep, with meshes six inches square. The hunt is under the direction of a chief, who arranges and controls it from beginning to end, and everybody is subject to his orders. [Illustration: A VILLAGE HEAD-MAN.] "Several days before the hunt the big drum is sounded in the village of the chief of the tribe, to call the head-men of the other villages together; when all are assembled the day of the hunt is announced, and the place where the people are to meet is agreed upon. Then the head-men depart, each to his own village, and the news is scattered as fast as possible. "Sometimes a chief gives a grand entertainment before the hunt, but in this instance he didn't do so. On such occasions he slaughters several oxen for feeding his guests, and brews a large quantity of native beer for them to drink. An important personage in such affairs is the sorcerer, who secures good-luck by certain magical performances. Unless he practices his incantations it is believed that no game will run into the nets; and, besides, accidents might happen to some of the party if they did not have his good offices beforehand. "The negro tribes of Central Africa are great believers in the power of magic. Their sorcerers are invoked frequently to discover stolen articles, to heal the sick, and perform other practical work which we usually give to the police or the doctor, and they also exercise the art of rain-makers. Perhaps you never heard of a rain-maker? [Illustration: AN AFRICAN MAGICIAN SUPERINTENDING THE SLAUGHTERING OF AN OX.] "Well, he is generally an old man, and carries a lot of charms about him, together with a horn or whistle, which he blows to create rain in seasons of drought, or to stop it when it falls too heavily. If the rain does as he commands it he claims all the credit; but if it does not obey he attributes his ill-luck to certain evil spirits over whom he has no control. If the person who calls him can afford it he generally orders an ox or some other animal to be killed, so that he can make his divinations after the manner of the ancient Romans, by examining the heart of the slaughtered beast. As he is sure to be presented with choice pieces of the meat, it is not improbable that he has an eye to his own welfare in issuing his commands. "The rain-maker is held in great respect by all the people, and consequently it is well for all travellers to make friends with him at once. The chief with whom we had the interview was accompanied by his sorcerer, whose badge of office was a cow's horn, which he carried over his shoulder, and a whistle suspended from his neck. The whistle was a wooden one, of rather primitive construction, and not very loud in sound. I won the heart of the magician by giving him a hunting-whistle of bright pewter, and a little harmonicon such as you can buy at any toy-shop. The old fellow had some trouble to manage the harmonicon between his thick lips; but after a few trials he got along very well, and was evidently highly delighted with the result. "Captain Mohammed supplemented my gift with a tin fish-horn, and then the rain-maker's joy was complete. He appeared confident of bringing rain from the ground instead of the sky, if necessary, and did not hesitate to promise a fine day for the hunt. His office has some risk about it, as he is liable to lose his place and head in case he does not make the weather to suit his chief; though he can generally excuse himself in the way I have related by attributing the failure to the influence of evil spirits. [Illustration: A NATIVE FERRY.] "I am forgetting the hunt while talking about the rain-maker and his performances. We started long before daylight, having sent forward the servants to get breakfast ready on the bank of a small river that lay in our way. Some native boats were there to ferry us over, and our horses were sent to a ford a mile or more up the stream, and then brought down again to meet us at the place of breakfasting. By this plan we made a considerable saving of time, as it would have caused much delay if we had waited in camp for breakfast, and we should have had a needless ride of a couple of miles if we had crossed by the ford. "We reached the place appointed for the rendezvous, and found hundreds of the natives there in advance of us, though it was only seven o'clock in the morning. There was a small cloud in the sky, and the old rain-maker at once set about showing us how he could drive it away. A few blasts on his tin horn and a dozen shrill notes on the pewter whistle had the desired effect: the cloud melted under the heat of the sun, and the magician looked at us with a proud and satisfied air. What might have happened if the cloud had increased and the day been a wet one, I shudder to think of, as the Shooli chief was bent on giving us a good time, and would have been sadly disappointed and very angry if the weather had been unfavorable. "There had been no rain for some days, and under the hot sun of Central Africa the grass and ground had become quite dry. This was an important consideration, as the plan of hunting included the burning of the grass over a considerable extent of ground, so as to drive the game in the direction of the nets. [Illustration: NET HUNTING BY THE SHOOLI TRIBE.] "The men were all ready with their nets and spears, and at a signal they moved to the designated spot, and formed the barrier which was to stop the game. The nets were supported by sticks, and each net was attached to the adjoining one; the number was large enough to form a fence more than a mile long, and in the shape of a semicircle; each native was concealed behind his own net by means of a screen, made by tying together the tops of the grass till a sort of inverted fan was formed. When the nets had been placed, and the hunters concealed behind their screens, there was nothing to indicate the presence of man, and even the net could not be seen on account of the high grass. "The ends of the net came to the bank of a brook about thirty feet wide, but its centre was at least a quarter of a mile from the stream. The women and children, of whom there were great numbers, formed a sort of hedge from the ends of the net for a considerable distance, in order to direct the game into the fatal snare. "The captain and I had brought our rifles, and the chief assigned us to places behind a couple of ant-hills. We were each followed by gun-bearers with extra weapons, in case of accident to our own, and the captain cautioned me not to fire unless I was quite sure that none of the negroes were in line of my shot and liable to be hurt. "When everything was ready the chief of the hunt blew a whistle, and the signal was repeated by a man stationed four or five hundred yards away. Then it was repeated by another and another, and so on, till it was carried at least half a dozen miles to windward. "Ten minutes after the signal was given we saw a column of smoke rising on the horizon, and it was joined by other columns of smoke as far as we could see. Then I saw the whole plan of the hunt: the game was to be driven by the fire in our direction, and the net was to enable the hunters to use their spears. We with the rifles had been stationed far enough from the nets to prevent the possibility of our injuring any of the men behind them. The captain was opposite one of the ends, and I was near the other; and we were to shoot at anything liable to escape the nets, and especially were we to use our weapons upon lions or other dangerous beasts. "The rule of the hunt was, that each man was to have all the game killed within the limits of his net. This seemed fair enough; but it sometimes happened that an animal speared by one hunter ran into the net of another before he fell; and this gave rise to disputes, which were appealed to the chief. Captain Mohammed said that if there was any trouble about the decision the chief took the game to himself, and thus prevented any one from feeling hurt at seeing what he considered his prize given to one of his neighbors. There is also an allowance of a hind-quarter of each animal killed to the owner of the land. "The place where I stood was not far from the brook before mentioned; and in order that I should not be seen I stuck some bushes in the top of the ant-hill, hoping that my white hat would not scare away any of the game. The fact is, the animals on such occasions are so frightened that they pay little attention to man, but are entirely occupied with running away. "I waited rather impatiently for a chance to shoot something. Presently an antelope came bounding over the crest of the ridge, but he was too far off for me to give him a bullet. Then came others, and I had the good-fortune to send one over. [Illustration: DRIVING GAME BEFORE A PRAIRIE FIRE.] "How my hand trembled as I saw a lion running almost in my direction, and felt certain he would pass near enough to give me a fine shot! I brought my rifle to my shoulder, and just as I was on the point of firing I saw a native rise from the grass directly in line beyond the prize I had marked for my own. "I allowed the lion to pass, but took a shot at a hartbeest, and brought him to the ground. Some buffaloes turned aside, avoiding the nets, and the natives did not try to stop them. They prefer that buffaloes should give their nets a wide berth, and are not at all pleased to encounter a lion. A rhinoceros passed near where Captain Mohammed was stationed, but too far off for a shot, and he went through the net as a circus-rider passes through a paper hoop. "I managed to shoot three antelopes and as many hartbeests before the smoke became so thick that it was difficult for me to see. I wondered what I would do when the fire reached me, but did not have any occasion to trouble myself about it. The flames reached the brook and then stopped, and in a little while the smoke blew away, and left the ground all blackened by the fire that had passed over it. "The hunt was fairly successful, and nobody had any reason to complain, as the natives got enough antelopes to supply them for some time. Captain Mohammed killed six; and these, with what I had shot, were a good addition to our supplies. The chief said the meat belonged to us by right, as the animals would have escaped the net from running so far to one side. Some of the antelopes seemed to understand the business; they had been hunted that way so often that when they reached the bank of the brook and saw the people, they knew the net was on the other side, and did not cross. They turned and ran either down or up the stream, and took the chances of being speared or shot while escaping. "We had the meat taken to camp after delivering to the owner of the land the quarter which was his right. Instead of taking a fourth of each animal, according to the custom of the country, he accepted one whole antelope out of four, which amounted to exactly the same thing, and saved the trouble of division. We sent to the chief several presents, which were more than the equivalent for the game we secured--at least, they must have been so in his eyes, though in reality their value was very small. There was a large knife, such as you can buy in the shops for half a dollar, and several pieces of jewellery--not made at Tiffany's. He was much pleased with his gifts, and we are convinced that his friendship is secure. "Many natives came into camp the next day, and sometimes they were so numerous that their visits were a little irksome. We managed to amuse them by getting out a mechanical organ, which was wound up as fast as it ran down, so that we had a steady strain of music through the entire day. "We had several popular airs played by the organ, and probably it was the first time they were ever heard among the Shoolis. It made no difference what was performed, and the negroes were equally delighted with the grand march from 'Faust,' or Little Buttercup from 'Pinafore.' Several times they formed a circle and danced to the music; they did not keep step with any sort of exactness, and their dancing was little more than an excited whirl. I realized the force of what Stanley and other explorers have said, that a band of music would be better than a company of sharpshooters for escorting a traveller through the greater part of the 'Dark Continent.' [Illustration: THE RIVER BANK.] "In the afternoon I went to a river a mile or so from camp, intending to catch some fish. The banks of the stream were covered with reeds for quite a distance back on each side, and the only way of getting to the surface was by means of a narrow channel through the reeds to the cleared ground. A canoe made from the trunk of a tree was the only conveyance, and as it was not capable of carrying more than four persons, and was very easily overturned, I did not think it wise to venture out. So I returned fishless, but had the satisfaction of shooting a couple of birds on the way back. They had a marked resemblance to the guinea-fowl of Africa, having a tuft on the top of the head and a tail which spreads like a fan. They appeared on our table at dinner, and were a toothsome addition to our larder. [Illustration: FRANK'S BIRD.] "True to our arrangement with the chief, we resumed our march on the second morning after the hunt, and found no farther opposition, though we did not relax our vigilance in the least degree. The rifles of the men were loaded and ready for work, and each soldier had the same number of cartridges as before. It is a rule of African explorers to trust to no promises on the part of a native farther than the moment they are made. Undoubtedly we do injustice to many by following this rule, but if there is any mistake it is on the side of safety. There is so much treachery among them that, sooner or later, the man who gives them his confidence is liable to betrayal. It was the invariable custom of Stanley to sleep in his own tent or hut, and never accept the invitation to be lodged by any chief or king whom he happened to be visiting. "In the afternoon of our march we started several antelopes and other game animals, but they were so frightened at our appearance that they ran away as fast as antelopes can possibly run. I can't say what speed they made, but it was altogether too much for us to think of following. [Illustration: ROCKY HILLS.] "The country here is very pretty, not heavily wooded and not a level plain; there are hills in the distance, both on the east and west, and in the south is a chain of mountains that seem to threaten to stop our march. Sometimes we cross open areas of a mile or more, with a few trees scattered here and there, and again we come to stretches of forest of a density that would require a path to be cut if one did not already exist. "There are a good many brooks and tiny rivers running through the region, so that it is well watered, and the traveller is in no danger of suffering from thirst. Some of the streams are sluggish and run through marshy ground, but the most of them remind you of an American brook gliding over sand and pebble, and occasionally rippling merrily down a rapid descent. I never supposed there was such a temperate region in Africa; but when I remember that we are four thousand feet above the level of the sea, and on the great plateau of Central Africa, my surprise ceases. [Illustration: GREAT ROCK NEAR THE CAMP.] "One of our camps was made under the shelter of a great rock, which had a deep pool on the surface. We could hardly believe the story till we climbed the rock and saw for ourselves, and there, sure enough, was the pool. "'There is a rock just like this on the route to Zanzibar,' said Abdul, 'and it was visited by Cameron in his journey across Africa.' "'Yes,' said the captain, 'and there is the same story about that rock as there is of the one we are on.' "'What is that?' I asked. "'They say that an elephant was once drowned in the pool while attempting to drink from it.' "I looked around, and quietly remarked to Captain Mohammed that I could hardly believe an elephant was ever drowned in the pool. "'Oh, certainly,' he answered. 'The water is very deep, and an elephant might easily be drowned in it.' "'Of course that might be,' I replied, 'provided the elephant was here. But will you explain how he could climb up this rock, which is steeper than the roof of a house, and has required us to use both feet and hands to ascend?' "The captain said he never thought of that, and quite agreed with me that no elephant could be drowned in the pool. Then we went down by the same path we had ascended. I slipped in the descent, and had an ugly fall, but fortunately was caught by one of the soldiers who accompanied us. If he had not been where he could grasp me I should have been fortunate to escape without serious injury. [Illustration: PECULIAR TABLE-ROCK IN THE BARI COUNTRY.] "Speaking of high and curious rocks, I am reminded of one in the Bari country, which was visited by Baker Pacha. "It is near the base of a mountain called Regiaff, and consists of a large, flat stone supported on a pedestal, very much like the centre-table of a parlor in America. It is a slab of syenite that must have become detached as the mountain decomposed. It is so large that the natives often seek shelter beneath it from the rain or the noonday sun, and their cattle find it a comfortable resting-place. The pedestal is of clay, and the broad roof over it protects it from the weather, so that it has remained unharmed for many centuries. "The natives have a superstition that any one who sleeps beneath this stone will die in a short time. The belief probably arose from some one having been killed by the fall of a fragment from the lower surface. Several large pieces are partly detached, and a very slight disturbance would cause them to tumble to the ground. "The measurement of this wonderful stone is as follows: Ft. In. Length of slab 45 4 Breadth of slab 45 8 Thickness from above to below 4 9 Height from ground 10 5 Diameter of clay pedestal 23 0 "The same formation of rock as the one above described can be seen at Monument Creek, in the neighborhood of Manitou, Colorado. When the earth beneath the slab is partly worn away the stone protects it from the weather, and thus these natural tables are formed. The pedestals of the Manitou table-rocks are formed of a coarse sandstone, while the tables are of mica schist. Both of them are subject to the action of the elements, and since the country has been known to the white man there has been a considerable disintegration of the rocks. Some of them are quite large, but I never heard of one equalling that at Regiaff." CHAPTER XIV. ARRIVAL AT FATIKO.--THE MARCH CONTINUED.--FRANK'S ANTELOPE HUNT. While the party was in camp, waiting for the order to move, the conversation naturally turned on previous experiences of travellers in the same region. Abdul said the Shoolis were generally regarded as a friendly race. They usually treated travellers kindly, and welcomed the peaceable merchant who brought goods to exchange for ivory. They had suffered frequently from the raids of slave-dealers, and their occasional hostility to strangers arose from this fact. They are a credulous people, under ordinary circumstances, and sometimes can be made to believe things that are not to their advantage. For example, at the time of Baker's expedition for suppressing the slave-trade the slave-dealers managed to convince the Shoolis that the real object of Baker was to capture the whole tribe and carry it into captivity. In this way they brought about an alliance between the Shoolis and themselves, and made an attack upon Baker, with the intention of destroying his entire force. "This was the way of it," said Abdul. "The slave-dealers had a camp near Fatiko, and were pretending to be doing as Baker wished, but all the time they were plotting against him. They had gathered quite a band of natives, and when Baker approached with only his little company of the so-called 'Forty Thieves' they felt confident of destroying them. "Baker sent one of his officers to demand that Aboo Saood, the chief of the slave-dealers, should come to him and explain certain things. The chief said he would do nothing of the sort, and sent back an insulting message. Thereupon Baker advanced with his men to within two or three hundred yards of the slavers' camp. "There he stopped, and sent another messenger, who was insulted, as the other had been. As he left the camp some of the slavers fired several shots in the direction of 'The Forty,' so that there was no doubt of their intentions. [Illustration: BAKER'S BATTLE WITH THE SLAVE-DEALERS.--CHARGE OF THE EGYPTIAN SOLDIERS.] "This was enough. The bugler was ordered to sound the charge, and away went the line of trained soldiers right in the direction of the group of tents that formed the camp. The slave-dealers and their allies opened fire upon the column, and it looked for a few moments as if they would all be cut down before reaching the camp. "Not a man halted or hesitated. They kept straight on, and the battle was over in less time than it would take you to write the story I am telling. The soldiers burned the huts, and made complete work before they stopped; they captured three hundred cattle and all the goods belonging to the camp, and released half as many slaves. Not a soldier of the forty was killed, and only seven of them were wounded. "One of the first shots fired at the slave-dealers was by Baker himself; it was aimed at one of the hostile chiefs, Wat-el-Mek, and the bullet cut off one of the fellow's fingers, and destroyed the gun he had in his hands. He was taken prisoner, and brought into camp, and a more thoroughly frightened man was never seen. "Wat-el-Mek declared that he had only acted under the orders of Aboo Saood, and supposed he was doing right. He carried a great many charms about him, and believed they were certain to protect him from harm. He had been in a hundred fights before, and never received so much as a scratch. His superstitious nature led him to believe that his injury was due directly to Divine interposition, which was the only thing that could have power over his charms and incantations. "The story went about among the officers and soldiers that Baker had determined to cut off the man's finger and smash his rifle, but not to kill him, in order to bring him over to the side of the government and make him useful in future. At any rate, this was the result; he promised to behave properly if allowed to live, and therefore Baker pardoned him, and dressed the wounded hand, so that it healed in a little while. The fellow kept his word, and was always on the side of the government after that. "Wat-el-Mek immediately set about organizing a small army of natives to co-operate with Baker, and a few days later he captured one of the slave-dealers' camps, and seized all the arms and ammunition it contained. In this way he proved of great assistance; and as he was very influential with the natives he soon had them under control, and the country became peaceful. The slave-dealers found they could not cope successfully with the Egyptians, and wisely abandoned the attempt." [Illustration: CROSSING A PLAIN.] Many of the Shoolis accompanied the party when it moved from camp, so that the procession was a long one. Where the country was level and open the column extended for nearly a mile, and Frank devoted some of his leisure time to making sketches of the scene. Whenever the bugle was sounded for any purpose the natives in hearing immediately formed a circle for a dance; and during the halts in the middle of the day or in camp in the evening they were perpetually asking for music. The bugler blew himself hoarse in his efforts to supply their demands, and there was a prospect at one time that even the music-box would go on a "strike," and refuse to do duty any longer. Happily, it held out, and Frank said it was a fortunate circumstance that the organ was inanimate, and therefore incapable of weariness. There is a post called Fatiko, at the edge of the Shooli country, and Captain Mohammed said they would halt there for a day to rest the men. Frank was not at all disinclined to the slight delay, as it would give him an opportunity to look at the first fort ever built in this part of Africa. He displayed some impatience to get there, and would have gone on in advance of the column, if it had been entirely proper and safe to do so. Fort Fatiko was built by Baker Pacha, as a defence against the natives, and as a menace to the slave-dealers. The natives were opposed to its establishment at first, but soon took very kindly to it when they found the Egyptian troops were their friends, and moreover were good customers for the grain and other things they had for sale. [Illustration: FORT FATIKO.] The fort was about five hundred feet square, and consisted of a strong embankment or earthwork on three sides, while the fourth was a high rock, which was rendered inaccessible on its farther side. The powder magazine and storehouses were on this rock, and there was a flag-staff on the summit, so that the Egyptian colors were visible for a long distance. There was a road from each of the three sides of the earthwork, but none from the rock; so that all entrance and exit was through the heavy embankment. On the southern side of the rock there was a strong _zeriba_, where the cattle were driven at night; and outside the fort in every direction were fields of grain and garden vegetables, which were cultivated by the garrison or by the natives. Every soldier was allowed a small plot of ground for his own use, and the men were encouraged to add to their scanty pay by the promise of good payment for whatever they could raise in their gardens. [Illustration: GROUND-PLAN OF THE FORT.] The garrison consisted of fifty regular soldiers from Khartoum, and about a hundred irregulars, under the command of a native chief. The former were armed with Remington rifles, while the irregulars were equipped with the ordinary muskets, such as the merchants bring to the country. The irregulars were not considered entirely trustworthy, and therefore it was not advisable to give them anything but inferior weapons. As long as they were faithful they would be more than a match for twice or thrice their number of the natives that surrounded them, as their muskets could speedily overpower the spears of the latter, and, in the event of their treachery, the Remington rifles would soon make an end of the muskets and the men who held them. [Illustration: VIEW FROM THE ROCK-FORT OF FATIKO.] Frank climbed to the top of the rock-fort of Fatiko, and found that the view from it was singularly striking. The ground away to the south was a level plain, broken here and there by masses of granite similar to the one on which he stood. The nearest of these was almost large enough to entitle it to be called a mountain. A little village was nestled against its base, and between the village and the fort was the pasture, or one of the pastures, of the stock belonging to the garrison. Goats and sheep occupied the nearest portion of the ground, and beyond them were the horned cattle and horses, grazing under the care of their herders, and protected by a guard detailed for that purpose. On the top of the rock there was a platform of considerable extent, its edge forming a natural rampart, which was a perfect defence against the negroes, with their barbaric weapons. Of course it would be of little consequence against artillery; but there is not the remotest chance of artillery being brought to bear against it, for the simple reason that the natives have nothing of the kind, and no knowledge of the processes of working metals beyond that of smelting iron-ore and shaping it into spear-heads and the like. A soldier was on duty on the top of the rock, with instructions to report any approach of caravans, or even of small groups of men, from whatever direction. The arrival of the escort from Gondokoro made quite a sensation among the members of the garrison, and those who received permission came out on the road to meet the new-comers; in fact, everybody had left except the sentinel on the summit and the men who had been detailed to relieve him, and Frank thought, under the circumstances, it would not have been hard work for him to take the fort, with Abdul's assistance, and keep it for his own use. But he wisely considered that he would not know what to do with a fort if he had one. It would be worse than a "white elephant" on his hands, and so he gave the matter no farther thought, and let the stronghold of Fatiko remain in Egyptian hands. Frank ascertained that the fort was 3587 feet above the level of the sea, and about 300 feet higher than the flat country, which began a few miles farther on. Captain Mohammed told him that from that point to the Somerset River the region was sparsely settled, and they would not encounter many natives. There was no reason to fear hostilities, though it was reported at the post that the King of Unyoro was at war with one of his neighbors, and the difficulties between these native monarchs might possibly make travelling a trifle unsafe. "The King of Unyoro," said the captain, "is friendly to nobody; he is treacherous to strangers as well as to neighbors, and, while professing friendship, is quite likely to be plotting your ruin. He has been taught several severe lessons, which have made him more respectful, though no more friendly, than before. "Speke and Grant were detained some time in Unyoro, and were obliged to use considerable strategy to get away when they did. Since their visit a new king is on the throne, but he is much like the former one, though not so great a beggar. The old king compelled Speke to give him his watch and chain, and many other things of his personal belongings, in addition to the presents they had brought him as tribute to an African ruler." "I remember," said Frank, "reading in Speke's account of his travels how the King of Unyoro kept demanding one thing after another, and finally asked for the finger-rings that Grant was wearing. Everything that was shown to him he begged for at once, and the only way to silence him was by saying that in their country the king does not beg, like a common man. [Illustration: CAMP WHERE SPEKE WAS DETAINED.] "He visited their tents one day, and everything he saw he admired, and what he admired he wanted at once. It made no difference whether an article would be of any use to him or not: he probably reasoned that if it was valuable to the white man it must be good, and therefore he coveted it. One of the most mysterious things to him was a pocket-compass, as he had been told by his officers that it was a magic horn, by which the white man could travel anywhere." "Yes," replied the captain; "the compass has never ceased to be a wonder to the negroes in the interior of Africa; we are careful not to let them know its principles, and it is not at all surprising that they cannot comprehend it. "Once when I was among the people of the Bahr-el-Azrek I obtained great control over the chief by the use of the compass. I told him I knew how to direct myself in the darkest night or in the thickest forest, and left him to suppose it was done by supernatural aid. "He disbelieved me; and I then offered to prove the truth of my assertion. I was to go out in the middle of the plain near his village, and there be placed under a canopy and blindfolded. His men might walk me around in a circle, or in any other way, for a quarter of an hour, and then remove the bandage while I was under the canopy in such a way that I could not look out. With a magic stone in my hand I would walk in any direction he indicated, and if I failed I was to forfeit a large amount of cloth and other things that in Africa are equivalent to money. "All was arranged to suit the ideas of the chief, and he effectually prevented my seeing the sun or getting any other indication of my position. When the bandage was removed I simply looked in my hand, where the pocket-compass was partially concealed, and as he asked the direction of the sun I indicated it to him, and also the course I would take to return to the village. He could not understand it; and as I allowed him to believe that I worked by magic he had a great respect for me from that moment." The expedition left Fatiko the second morning after its arrival, and continued on its journey to the south. Frank observed that the country was in many places flat and covered with tall grass, a change that was not at all agreeable after the undulating region through which they had been travelling. Abdul said that in the rainy season these flat areas became marshes, through which it was not at all easy to force one's way. "You have to do a great deal of wading," said he, "and sometimes the feet of the porters and animals of a caravan convert the road into a mass of mud. This was the case when Colonel Long made his journey to Ugunda; he frequently fell into mud-holes so deep that he was completely covered and plastered from head to foot, and when he went into camp at night there wasn't a dry or clean thread about him." This region is a favorite hunting-ground of the natives, as it contains few inhabitants, and the wild animals that roam over it are allowed to have their own way, except in the season of the chase. Hunting can only be carried on in the dry season, as neither animals nor man can get about when the rains are falling. The country abounds in game, from the largest size downward. Herds of elephants are numerous, though less so than formerly, owing to the persistency of the hunters and the improved methods of killing the huge beasts since the invention of elephant-rifles and explosive balls. An accident to some of the baggage caused a detention of a couple of hours, and Frank improved the opportunity to go on a tramp of a mile or more, in the hope of bagging something in the way of game. Just as he was ready to turn about to go back to camp he saw a couple of horns above the grass, and, looking closely, traced out the animal to which they belonged. Motioning to Abdul and the gun-bearer who accompanied them to keep perfectly quiet, he crept noiselessly forward, and soon obtained a good position for an effective shot. He fired, and the animal, after giving a single bound in the air, tumbled to the ground. While Frank paused to reload Abdul ran forward and secured the prize. [Illustration: N'SAMMA ANTELOPE.] "It's a N'samma antelope," said he, "one of the finest of the many varieties of antelope in Africa. It is well known to hunters in all the equatorial regions wherever there are wide plains, and is closely allied to the hartbeest, which belongs farther south, but is not uncommon here." "Yes," responded Frank, "we saw one on the day of the great hunt with the Shoolis, and I thought this was the same kind of animal when I spied his horns through the grass." "The name hartbeest was given to him by the Dutch colonists of the Cape of Good Hope," said Abdul, "and the proper name for it is kaama. In scientific works the hartbeest of South Africa is called the _Antilope caama_, while that of the central and northern regions is the _Antilope bubalis_." Frank was rather taken aback by this display of scientific knowledge on the part of his dragoman. He had found the dragoman unusually intelligent for his profession, but this dissertation on natural history was beyond his expectations. He learned, on inquiry, that Abdul had been using his spare time in examining the books in Frank's possession, and his latest achievement had been to read up on the antelope question. The gun-bearer was sent to bring help for transporting the antelope to camp; but he had not gone far when he met half a dozen men, who had been sent out to see if their services were wanted. Captain Mohammed knew the country was full of game, and told the men to start immediately on hearing Frank's shot. "Keep a sharp lookout for something more than an antelope," said Abdul at starting, repeating the caution as they set out for the return. "It was not far from here," he continued, "that Sir Samuel Baker had a narrow escape from the jaws of a lioness. "He was out with a party of natives, who were driving the prairie with fire, as we did the other day among the Shoolis, and had half a dozen of the people near him, armed only with spears. "While his attention was drawn toward an antelope that was moving in his direction, and promising to give him a good shot, he suddenly discovered a large lioness rising out of the grass within a few yards of the less dangerous animal. She came straight toward his position, and he made ready to fire. "When she was within forty yards or so he fired, and rolled her over in the grass; but she was up again in a moment, and charged at two of the negroes, who managed to evade her jaws. "Then he fired again at her, and an officer who was with him did likewise; but all the lead they poured into her sides did not kill her. She lay down in the grass so that she could not be seen. Her loud growling revealed her position, and the natives proposed to go with their spears and stir her up, if Baker would stand by with his guns and shoot on the first opportunity. "Baker would not consent to this, as it would place the spearmen in great danger, since the lioness would certainly charge upon them the instant a spear was thrown. They sought for the beast, and at length saw a yellowish mass, into which Baker fired a charge of buckshot, intended for small antelopes. [Illustration: CHARGE OF A LIONESS.] "She sprung out, with a terrific roar, and Baker managed to put in a couple of shots, but without stopping her. Everybody had to run to keep out of her reach, and she again disappeared in the grass. Baker then went in search of her. She was sitting up like a dog, and happened to be looking in a direction opposite to the side on which he approached. He crept to within twelve yards of her before firing, and this shot at close quarters finished the work. She was an unusually large animal, and her fierceness was quite in proportion to her size." "It was very brave of the natives to offer to go to where she lay in the grass and throw their spears," Frank remarked. "It certainly was," replied Abdul. "Many of these Africans are very brave, while others display a good deal of cowardice. The Shoolis, for example, will attack any animal that comes in their way, and, as they are armed only with spears, they must act at very close quarters to use their weapons. Occasionally they have severe accidents in their hunting excursions, and sometimes when a lion runs into their nets he kills or wounds several of his assailants before he is despatched or escapes." They reached the camp without farther incident, and in a little while the men came bringing the meat which was obtained in the morning hunt. The most of the column was already on the road, and it took only a few minutes to divide the quarters of the antelope among the porters and send them to follow the rest. They were instructed to go at once to the place selected for the noonday halt and deliver their burdens to the chief cook. That individual understood his business, and Frank made up his mind for a savory stew when the hour for luncheon should arrive. During the march an antelope fell to the rifle of the captain, and Frank managed to get a shot at another, but without effect. A herd of elephants was seen to the east of their route, but too far away to render it advisable to pursue them. The wind was blowing from the herd, and not toward it; had it been otherwise the elephants would have taken the alarm almost as soon as the column appeared, and the prospect of reaching them would have been exceedingly doubtful. Like many other wild animals, the elephant can "take the scent" of man at a surprisingly long distance, and when he obtains it he generally loses no time in seeking a place of safety. CHAPTER XV. AN ELEPHANT HUNT.--CROSSING THE VICTORIA NILE.--ARRIVAL AT FOUEIRA.--KING RIONGA AND HIS PEOPLE. The camp was made at the edge of a forest, and the guides said that the next day's march would be through a wooded country. In most places the jungle was very dense, and Frank found it impossible to make much headway when he ventured from the path. There was a thick undergrowth of vines and small bushes, which made an excellent hiding-place for all but the largest animals, and Frank was not surprised to learn that the woods were full of game. "Only you can't make game of it," said Abdul, "because it gets away so easily. A wild beast in this forest will see you long before you can possibly see him, and if he chooses to do so he can easily get out of your way." From the forest to the open country again was a pleasant change, but the guide lost the way once in crossing a plain, and they were obliged to retrace their steps for a couple of hours. While they were feeling in ill-humor at the consequent loss of time one of the scouts reported a herd of elephants a mile or so to windward, and the captain at once determined to try his hand among them. Frank and Abdul were sent to the right of where the herd was feeding, while Captain Mohammed and his gun-bearer went to the left. The plain was covered with long grass, and there were many small mounds, with shrubs on their crests, so that they formed admirable places for concealment. Frank obtained a good position behind one of the mounds, and the captain was similarly placed, a quarter of a mile away. We will let Frank tell the story: "A couple of men had been sent away to the rear of the herd to drive them in our direction, and we had just fairly settled into our positions, when the elephants caught the scent of the drivers and begun to move. Unfortunately for me, they went in the line of the captain, and I had to sit still without firing a shot. But what I missed the captain gained, and perhaps he gained more than he wanted. [Illustration: A DANGEROUS POSITION.] "Five or six elephants advanced directly toward him, and when they were not more than forty yards away he fired at the largest. The shot had the effect of alarming the herd greatly, but without bringing down anything. The wounded elephant whirled about and roared, and then stood still among his companions, to see where the danger came from. "The smell of the powder revealed that their assailant was at the foot of the mound in front of them, and immediately the herd gathered in line and prepared to charge. The captain and his gun-bearer would have been trampled to death in a moment if the elephants had made their charge, and he was certainly in an awkward predicament. "They stood in a sideway position, so that he didn't have a fair shot at the foreheads of any of them. Unless you hit an African elephant square in the centre of the forehead there is little hope of killing him. The captain's only safety was in frightening them, and so he fired at the sides of their heads, and let off two shots in quick succession. This had the effect of turning them round, and drove them to where I was concealed in the tall grass, at the foot of another mound. "I ran the same risk as the captain, but with the difference that the elephants were frightened and making a straight course over my position in order to get away. Abdul sprung to his feet and fired, and so did I; and then we shouted, and kept the shots going, one after the other, till we made a greater panic even than the captain had created. "The herd turned again and went back over the plain, and we were safe for the time. I wanted to follow them up, and so did the captain; but time did not permit, and we returned to the column, which had been resting by the roadside while we were absent on our unsuccessful hunt." Just before dusk, when the caravan halted to go into camp, a solitary elephant was seen leisurely feeding in the grass not more than three hundred yards from the road. Frank wanted to have a shot at him, but his proposal was vetoed by Captain Mohammed as a dangerous performance. "Don't go near him," said the captain; "he is a 'rogue' elephant, and one of the most dangerous of his class." [Illustration: FRANK'S DISCOVERY: A "ROGUE" ELEPHANT.] Frank remembered hearing about rogue elephants in Ceylon and India, and asked if there was any difference between the Asiatic and the African elephant in this particular. "Not much," was the reply; "though, perhaps, the African when he becomes a rogue is a trifle more vicious than his Asiatic brother. He is an elephant that has become separated from his herd and is obliged to roam by himself. No other elephant will associate with him, and he is an outcast, who can never hope for restoration to elephantine society. He is far bolder than any member of a herd, and is always a male, and one of the finest of his kind. Where another elephant would run away he will stand up and fight, and his sagacity is quite equal to his strength and courage." Frank wished to know why the elephant became a rogue, or solitary wanderer, and he also asked from what the designation came. "He is called a 'rogue' in English," was the reply, "because that is the literal translation of his Indian, Cingalese, and African name. He is a rogue because of his viciousness and his destructive ways: he comes into the plantations of the natives and destroys wantonly all that he cannot eat. Ordinary herd elephants will go away when they have satisfied their appetites, but a rogue will break down fruit-trees and trample whole acres of rice or other growing things solely for the pleasure of destroying them. It is a common remark that one rogue will do more damage than a dozen herd elephants. "India is a country, as you know, where caste prevails among the people, and when a man does certain things, many of them trivial in our eyes, he loses his rank, or caste. For some things he may be reinstated on payment of a fine, which is proportioned to the extent of his offence; but for others there is no restoration, and he remains a pariah, or outcast, till his death. "The people of India say that a rogue elephant has done something that drives him from his caste, and something for which there is no restoration. He may graze in the neighborhood of a herd, but under no circumstances will he be admitted to their company; even if he happens to be driven into a corral and entrapped with them he remains an outcast. While they are trembling with fear and clasping their trunks in expressions of grief, charging at the fence of the corral and making every effort to escape, they will have nothing to do with the rogue. They drive him away and refuse to permit him to enter their circle, and when he is bound and dragged off helpless they will assail him unless he is kept at a respectful distance. "So don't venture near that rogue elephant," the captain continued, "as he would turn upon you if your shot was not instantly fatal, and you could not hope to get off as easily as we did from the whole herd of honest ones." As they approached the Somerset River, or Victoria Nile, the ground became low and marshy, with long stretches of jungle and high grass that made it impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction, except upward at the sky. Even then there was not always a clear view, as the papyrus plants bent over the path and enclosed the travellers in a sort of natural arch. The opposite or south bank was higher, and consisted of a series of bluffs, which promised a firm footing. The swamp or marsh was exceedingly difficult for the horses; they sunk into the mud at every step, and two or three times Frank was obliged to dismount to allow his steed to extricate itself from a mud-hole. One of the dismountings was much more sudden than agreeable, as the youth was pitched over the animal's head without the least warning. On the opposite bank was the military post of Foueira, the last station of the Egyptian troops in Central Africa, and on the borders of the territory of the King of Unyoro. It was the destination of Captain Mohammed and his company of soldiers, and for the present the destination of Frank Bassett. As Frank looked across the river--about a thousand feet in width--he saw a group of conical huts, surrounded by a stockade, and displaying the Egyptian flag from the summit of the central hut. A little to the left was another group of huts; and as a couple of elephants were standing near it Frank concluded that the second enclosure must be the stable for the huge beasts. Several boats were at hand for ferrying the party over the river, but a difficulty arose concerning the transit of the horses. The Nile was full of hippopotami and crocodiles, both of them dangerous enough, and the latter particularly so. To attempt to swim the horses over would have been certain death to them, as the crocodiles would have welcomed the animals as rare material for a feast. There was no raft provided for carrying them, and the only boats were 'dug-outs,' hollowed from the trunks of trees. They were simply canoes, not over three or at most four feet in width, and they shook from end to end when a man stepped into them. But unless the horses could be taken into them, there was no chance of crossing. [Illustration: NAVIGATION UNDER DIFFICULTIES.] Captain Mohammed ordered one of the boats to be brought close to the bank and held there as firmly as possible. Then weeds and grass were piled so as to conceal any interval between boat and shore; the captain's horse was blindfolded with a handkerchief, and, all trembling with fear, was led into the frail canoe. A man stood by his head to prevent his jumping overboard with fright, the boatman pushed away, and a soldier stood in the bow of the boat, shooting at the river-horses, to keep them at a respectful distance. Another boat received Frank's horse, and one after another the steeds were taken over the Victoria Nile in safety. One of them struggled a little during the transit, and came near upsetting the boat, to the imminent peril of all concerned. The poor beast was soon quieted, and seemed to understand that his safety lay in his docility. As for the others, they hardly moved a muscle, except in the involuntary trembling caused by fear. Abdul said that this part of the river was one of the most dangerous, as it was only at the peril of a man's life that he could venture near the water. Hardly a day passed that some unfortunate native was not eaten by the crocodiles, having paid with his life the penalty of carelessness. Since the post was established at Foueira the crocodiles and hippopotami have been cleared out to some extent, but the places of those that are killed are generally taken without much delay. [Illustration: AN UNPLEASANT ACQUAINTANCE.] The day of his arrival Frank was strolling by the river not far from the camp, when he came suddenly upon a "hippo" engaged at his breakfast. The creature was munching away at the grass as though entirely at home; when he saw the intruder he gave a loud grunt, followed by a roar, and he paused in his eating, as if uncertain what to do. Frank was not uncertain about his duty. He remembered that he wanted to speak to Captain Mohammed about the prospects of steam navigation on the Victoria N'yanza; and as there is no time like the present for doing anything, he made the best of his way to the fort. It is intimated that he ran, and ran very fast, for the first fifty yards, but we will not be too particular in our inquiries about his movements. It is probable that the cause of his alarm retreated to the water as soon as his roar was over. The river-horse is not brave when on land, and is most to be feared in the water, as he can move therein quickly, in spite of his enormous bulk and short limbs. [Illustration: THE VICTORIA NILE AT RIONGA'S ISLAND.] Foueira, or Foweera, is a station established by Sir Samuel Baker, a little more than two degrees north of the equator, and was intended for the control of the portion of the annexed provinces south of the Victoria Nile. It is a short distance above Kuruma Falls, and fifteen miles below a large island known as King Rionga's. At the time the post was established there was a war in progress between Rionga and the King of Unyoro, the territory to the south. Rionga was heir to the throne, but had been set aside by the intrigues of Kabba Rega; he consequently retired to the island, where he could easily defend himself, and wait the opportunity for the proper recognition of his rights. The Egyptians endeavored to establish amicable relations with Kabba Rega, but were unable to do so. While professing friendship, he attempted to poison them, and very nearly succeeded; and his troops made an attack upon Baker's camp at night, and came very near annihilating the whole party. Baker thereupon returned to Foueira, strengthened the place, and proceeded to make friends with Rionga. The latter was recognized as the rightful king of the country, and, in return for the recognition, he promised to do all in his power to support the Egyptian authority. Abdul described to Frank the visit of Baker to Rionga's Island, and the ceremonies of declaring that he was the real ruler of the country. Five large boats, hollowed from the trunks of trees, ascended the river to the foot of the island, while the soldiers of the expedition marched along the banks. A camp was formed close to the river and opposite the lower end of the island. The latter appeared to be well cultivated, and covered with fields of plantains, bananas, and other products of the country, and there was everything to indicate that the people of the throneless king were not likely to suffer for want of food. The river in this region is bordered by forests of tropical trees, and close to the banks on either side there are dense growths of papyrus, some of the plants being fifteen or twenty feet high. It is full of the same sort of animal life as at Foueira, and therefore a bath in its waters is not to be recommended to any one who is prejudiced against occupying the stomach of a crocodile. There are several varieties of fish in the stream, but the work of taking them is not the safest in the world, on account of the abundance of the saurian monsters; consequently, the natives are not famous for their piscatorial pursuits. It was dark before the party was all on shore, and it was not to be expected that the king could be seen that evening. The next morning a messenger went for him, carrying a present in the shape of a robe of embroidered cloth, with a tarboosh and turban. It is not customary, when calling on a king in any other country, to send him clothes to put on, but they do these things differently in Africa. Early in the forenoon a flotilla of boats was seen on the river, and in a short time it pulled up in front of the camp. Drums were beating and horns blowing in all directions, as a signal that the great Rionga was going to see the white man, and the din was kept up till the monarch was safe on shore. The soldiers were drawn up in line to receive him, and as he came forward, accompanied by his ministers and other great men, he was met by Baker and one of his officers. They shook hands after the European fashion; and as the king spoke Arabic the conversation was conducted without the aid of an interpreter. Of course each was very glad to see the other, and vows of friendship were interchanged; then a cow, a sheep, and a load of corn were delivered as presents from Rionga, and the king thanked Baker for the suit of clothes which had enabled him to make a decent appearance at the reception. [Illustration: INTERVIEW BETWEEN BAKER PACHA AND RIONGA.] The interview lasted an hour or more, as there was a good deal to be said on both sides, and it resulted in an alliance between the king on the one hand, and the government on the other. The afternoon and evening were devoted to a feast, for which the king furnished the materials, and the next morning he and Baker went through the ceremony of exchanging blood, and thereby becoming the firmest of friends. Two or three days were occupied in receiving the allegiance of several chiefs who lived in the neighborhood; and before the expedition returned to Foueira it was agreed that war should be declared against the usurper, Kabba Rega; and as soon as the dry season had set in the combined forces would move upon M'rooli, the stronghold of Rionga's enemy. Abdul farther said that Rionga was a handsome man, of unusually good manners, and more intelligent than the majority of his race. He was copper-colored rather than black, and the same was the case with the most of his followers, who seemed warmly devoted to him. He had abandoned all the barbarous practices of the African kings, never ordering the punishment of death except for the very highest crimes, and never offering human sacrifices or shedding the blood of subjects or prisoners. His people lived chiefly on vegetable food, with the addition of fish caught in the river. They had extensive plantations of bananas and sweet potatoes; and though they had large flocks of sheep and goats, they did not eat their flesh, but were contented with the milk. The poorer classes sometimes live on ants, but do not display any particular fondness for them; they preferred the products of their gardens; and if they had plenty of bananas and plantains the ants were not disturbed. [Illustration: WATER-BOTTLE.] Frank asked if they had any manufactures. Abdul said they confined their skill to a few articles of pottery, and some of them were very pretty, as Frank had opportunity of learning when he looked at several specimens in possession of the commander of the post. They consisted of water-jars and pots for cooking purposes, and some of them were ornamented in a way that would have done credit to a French or English worker in pottery. Frank admired the water-bottles made from a gourd that grows in this part of Africa: it has a long and slender neck, and the outside is very tough and hard, so that it can resist a heavy blow, and is not readily devoured by the almost omnivorous ants. These gourds are found everywhere in the Unyoro and Uganda countries, and are useful for all purposes where liquids are to be carried or kept. [Illustration: GOURDS OF DIFFERENT SHAPES.] Abdul said these gourds are trained to take a variety of shapes. Most of them are unornamented, others decorated with black or red paints, and the necks are twisted while the gourds are green and soft. They can be softened in hot water. If broken while receiving the finishing touches the seams can be closed with thread in a style to be envied by an accomplished glove-sewer. The pottery is made from a clay found in river-beds or at the base of the highest hills. The implements for working it are of the rudest description, and the natives are not even in possession of the potter's wheel, which has been known in Egypt and China for thousands of years. The clay is pulverized by being pounded between stones, and is then worked into a thick paste to make it sufficiently plastic. The potter shapes the mouth of a bottle, and then places it to dry in the sun. The next day he adds an inch or so, and the next day another inch, and in this way he continues the work till the article is completed. When ready to be baked seven or eight of the bottles are placed together and covered with a pile of dry grass, which is set on fire. Only a gentle heat is needed, and wood-fires are not used, as the high temperature would crack the bottles. Captain Speke says a good workman will make four large pots in a day. Their picturesqueness and perfect shape often surprise the stranger. In some regions the pottery turns black when baked, while in others it becomes red, on account of the iron in the soil. We will leave Frank engaged in the inspection of specimens of African workmanship, and return to Doctor Bronson and his nephew, whom we left at the head of the White Nile, beginning the exploration of the Albert N'yanza. CHAPTER XVI. THE ALBERT N'YANZA.--ACCOUNT OF ITS DISCOVERY.--INCIDENTS OF THE FIRST DAY'S VOYAGE. [Illustration: LAKE SCENE IN CENTRAL AFRICA.] The _Khedive_ was headed for the western shore of the lake, or rather she turned her prow in a westerly direction, as she steamed away from the head of the Bahr-el-Abiad, or White Nile. Doctor Bronson said that the village Magungo, at the mouth of the Victoria Nile, was not more than twenty-five miles away in the opposite direction. Frank looked with his glass, and easily made out the indentation in the shores of the lake that marked the point where the river flows into the Albert N'yanza. As they sat on the deck, sheltered by the double awning above them, Doctor Bronson told his nephew the history of the discovery of the Albert N'yanza. "It is very strange," said he, "that only in very recent times has any one known of the existence of this lake. Some of the negroes had told the Arab traders who used to come to Gondokoro for ivory that there was a great body of water a long distance to the south, but their accounts of it were very much confused; and farthermore, as there was no prospect that a lake would yield ivory, the traders paid little heed to the story. "When Speke and Grant explored the Victoria N'yanza, in 1862, they heard of this lake, but were not permitted to visit it. Their information was not altogether clear, but it was sufficient to convince them that there was a body of water between the Victoria N'yanza and the lakeless Nile. They left the Somerset River, or Victoria Nile, at Kuruma Falls, a few miles below the present station of Foueira, and did not see the river again until they were between the third and fourth parallels of north latitude. They were then nearly a hundred miles below the point where we now are, and, of course, there was no place on their route where a single glimpse of the lake could be obtained. "On February 15, 1863, they reached Gondokoro, and met Mr. Baker--the same Sir Samuel or Baker Pacha whom we have occasion to mention so often--and told him about the undiscovered lake. Baker determined to reach it if possible; and after a good deal of difficulty he succeeded in overcoming the scruples of the natives, and persuaded them to guide him to the mysterious water." Fred asked if Mr. Baker ascended the main stream of the Nile to its head, as they had done. "Not by any means," was the reply. "In the first place, transportation by water was out of the question, on account of the falls in the river, and also owing to the absence of suitable boats even for smooth sailing. Baker pushed southward, by land, over much the same route that Frank has now taken. He passed the Victoria Nile into the country of Unyoro, having a long and tedious journey, and finally reached the lake at a small fishing village on the eastern shore. This village is marked on the maps as Vacovia. It is of little practical consequence, but will always be an important spot to geographers. "It was on March 14, 1864," continued the Doctor, "that Mr. Baker, who was accompanied by his wife, reached the shore of the new lake at the village I have mentioned. He gave the name of Albert N'yanza, in honor of Prince Albert, to this body of water, and the name has been accepted by all geographers, and will probably be permanent. You may therefore record in your note-book that Sir Samuel Baker was the first white man to see the lake, and that the honor of the discovery was shared by Lady Baker. "From the point where he saw it the lake appeared to stretch out to a vast extent to the south and south-west. On the west, or opposite shore to where he stood, there was a range of mountains whose tallest peaks were about seven thousand feet in height. "Baker was unable to explore the lake as he desired. He only made a voyage by canoes along the coast as far as the mouth of the Victoria Nile, which he ascended to Murchison Falls. From there he continued his journey by land, and did not again see the lake. He found the coast between Vacovia and Magungo bounded by high cliffs, most of them covered with trees, but frequently so steep that it would have been difficult or impossible to climb them. In some places they were almost perpendicular. If you look with your glass you can possibly make out some of these rocky headlands in the neighborhood of Magungo." Fred turned his glass in the direction indicated, and could distinctly see several bold cliffs that seemed to overhang the lake. They extended to within a few miles of the point where the Nile emerges from the lake, when they fell off, and gave place to low and at times swampy ground. "So much for the early history of the Albert N'yanza, which is known to the natives as the Luta N'zige. It is a hard word to pronounce, but if you throw 'n' and 'z' into one sound you can possibly manage it. In default of doing that you may call it 'Ziggee,' or fall back upon 'N'yanza,' which is much easier, and will do just as well; and if you are very old-fashioned you may drop 'N'yanza,' the African name for lake, and say you are steaming on Lake Albert, in Central Africa." [Illustration: SCENE ON THE SHORES OF LAKE TANGANYIKA.] Fred asked what was the relation between the Albert Lake and Lake Tanganyika. He had a general idea of the Victoria N'yanza and its geographical position, but wanted more information about the other. "We will get to that by-and-by," said the Doctor, in reply. "Tanganyika is still a mystery, as its outlet has not been fully determined, though it is pretty definitely settled that it discharges into the Congo, or Livingstone, and has no connection with the Nile. In fact, the surveys show that it is at a lower level than the Albert N'yanza, and consequently cannot flow into it; and as the Nile does not have any affluent of consequence north of here, it is impossible that roundabout stream from Tanganyika comes to it. We will talk more about that when we reach the scenes of the exploits of Livingstone and Stanley." As they had an abundance of time for circumnavigating the lake and reaching Magungo on the day appointed for meeting Frank, the Doctor concluded not to hurry the steamer, but make an early halt. So he told the captain to land at the first convenient spot, and they would remain there through the night. [Illustration: A LAKE VILLAGE.] It was at least an hour before sundown when the steamer was anchored near the shore, where a headland pushed out into the lake and afforded abundant water for safety. The small boat took Doctor Bronson and Fred to a little village close to the water. It consisted of several huts in front of a dense growth of papyrus-plants, and with a few palms rising from the firm ground beyond. The natives were alarmed at the visit of the strangers, and started to run away. They naturally took the party for a slave-stealing expedition, and concluded that their only safety was in flight. Our friends were accompanied by two soldiers who had been detailed to remain with them during their voyage, and return with the steamer to its point of departure. As a matter of precaution, these soldiers went wherever our friends did; and as they had seen a good deal of service, and were familiar with many of the African tribes, they were useful in numerous ways besides serving as escort. One of them shouted to the people not to run away, as no harm was intended, and to indicate that their intentions were not hostile, both the soldiers placed their guns on the ground and held up their empty hands. This caused the fugitives to pause; and, after some parleying, they were convinced of the pacific intentions of their visitors, and signified their willingness to return, provided they received a certain number of beads and hatchets as a token of friendship. A few beads and other trinkets had been brought along from the steamer, but no hatchets. This circumstance was explained, and led to farther parleying, and finally to the establishment of friendly relations all round. The people came back to their village, the presents were delivered, and in a little while everything was harmonious. [Illustration: LAKE FISHES OF CENTRAL AFRICA.] Then the natives offered presents in return. They had very little to give, as they live entirely by fishing, and their gifts were limited to the products of the lake. Several fishes were brought forward, one of them an enormous fellow, weighing little if anything less than two hundred pounds, and having quite a resemblance to the sturgeon of American waters. One fish was evidently of the perch family, and another was a near relation of the bull-head, or cat-fish, of the United States. The natives said it lived in the mud at the bottom of the lake, and was caught with a long line baited with a piece of another fish, or with a large worm that abounded in the soil back of their village. One of the fishes was said to live entirely on vegetable food, and his jaws were equipped with teeth not unlike those of a sheep. The abundance of vegetable matter in the lake evidently gave these specimens of the finny tribe an easy life of it, as they could never be at a loss for their dinners. As a result they were large and fat, and their shape did not indicate either speed or power. "They don't have everything their own way," said the Doctor as Fred was examining the specimen. "Everything in nature has its uses, and these vegetable-eating fishes probably furnish the bulk of the food for their more voracious companions. If it were not so they would soon fill the lake, as they would have no kind of struggle for existence. But the other fishes pursue and devour them, so that their numbers are kept within proper limits. "Probably the crocodiles find them good eating, and when they fail to secure any prey on land the water furnishes them with a support." [Illustration: A FISHERMAN READY FOR WORK.] Fred noticed that the fishermen were equipped with spears and nets, and some of them carried bows and arrows. Their modes of fishing were various, and according to the particular variety of game of which they were in pursuit. For some kinds they watched at a good place, and either speared their prey or pierced it with arrows when it came within reach. Other kinds were taken in nets, others by lines, as we have already mentioned, and others were caught by being driven into traps. One kind of fish that always goes in large schools is secured by driving a school into a trap made of a line of nets fastened to posts, in the same manner as the nets which were seen by Frank on his way to Foueira. [Illustration: A FISH-BASKET.] A strong wind blew from the southward, so that there was quite a sea of waves breaking on the exposed points of the coast. Doctor Bronson said it would be inconvenient for them to make their excursion in a canoe, as Baker had done, since the waves have little respect for the low sides of the craft, and they would be constantly liable to a drenching. But the steamer would not be inconvenienced in the least, as she was proof against any storm that was likely to arise on the lake. Fred wanted to stay on shore during the night, but the Doctor said there were several reasons why they should not do so. It would be quite a task to bring their tents and set up the camp, as everything would need to be landed with the small boat; besides, it would be safer on board, since they could never tell what plots the natives might make against them if they slept on land. "We should need," he continued, "our soldiers to watch through the night, while on the steamer the ordinary lookout is quite sufficient for all purposes. So we will return as soon as the sun touches the horizon, and if we want to land again in the morning we can easily do so." When the sun threw its long shadows over the lake our friends returned to the landing-place, and were soon on board the steamer. After dinner the watch was set for the night; one man was to be on duty at a time, and he would be relieved every two hours. The natives were told that none of their boats must approach the steamer during the night, and for greater security she was hauled a few hundred yards farther out from land. Fred asked if there was any danger. "No danger whatever, I presume," said the Doctor; "but we never know, as I before told you, what schemes may be formed for assailing us. We must always be watchful; and if we take care in advance we may escape a great deal of trouble. If the natives see that we are always on guard, they will not be likely to undertake anything in the way of a surprise; but if they find that we are careless, they are quite likely to take advantage of our negligence. Bear in mind that the natives of Africa have no reason to be specially friendly to the white man; beyond the suppression of the slave-trade, the visits of the stranger have generally been to the disadvantage of the negro, and the latter knows it. As he has a good deal of wickedness to the credit of our race, we need not be surprised if he seeks revenge when the opportunity is afforded for it. "In our voyage on the lake we will treat all the people kindly whenever we meet them, but at the same time we must avoid giving them a chance to injure us. When we go on shore Ramen and Bash, the two soldiers of our escort, will always go with us, and will have their guns loaded and ready for instant use. We will never allow more than four natives on board the steamer at any one time, no matter what the occasion, and in this way we will be on the safe side." Of course Fred readily acquiesced in the Doctor's arrangements for their safety. He recalled the accounts of previous travellers in Africa, and found that the rule was by no means a new one. It is the same that every careful explorer adopts when travelling among barbarous people, no matter who they are nor what their reputation is. "Never allow yourself to be surprised, and then you won't be," is the homely way in which one traveller has clothed the maxim. It sounds a trifle Hibernian, but it contains a vast amount of solid common-sense. Our friends slept undisturbed through the night. The captain reported in the morning that two boats came near the steamer about mid-night; but as they did not stop or show the least sign of hostility, it was not deemed worth while to hail them. Soon after daylight several canoes came off from the village and surrounded the steamer; each canoe carried from four to eight or ten persons, among them several women and a few children. The presence of the women and children was indicative of peace, but the rule of allowing only four natives on board at once was not relaxed. [Illustration: A VILLAGE CHIEF.] After a while the sound of a drum was heard, and a boat larger than the rest made its appearance. Ramen said it was the head-man of the village coming to pay his respects; and in order to prepare for his reception the natives then on board were sent to their canoes, and no others were allowed to take their places. The boat with the village chief came along-side, and the stairs were let down, so that he could easily reach the deck. He desired to bring a dozen or more of his followers, and they were equally desirous of coming; but the chief was informed that the steamer was small, and there was no room for more than three besides himself. He knew the actual reason for the refusal, but accepted at once the explanation that had been given, and ascended the steps. [Illustration: NATIVE HEADS.] He was a well-formed negro, about forty years of age, wearing only a strip of cloth about the waist, and carrying a slender bow, which he used for killing fish. He kept the bow in his hand as he came on board the steamer, but was polite enough to leave his arrows behind. His hair was less curly than is usual with the African; it was liberally oiled, and a small part of it was gathered in a knot or club at the back of his head. A similar knot was formed under his chin by the scanty beard that grew there, and his mouth was shaded by a short mustache; altogether, his features had quite a European cast, and Fred pronounced him a man of intelligence, who evidently had a good deal of ferocity when occasion required or permitted. The chief was shown around the boat; and, as he had never seen anything of the kind before, he evinced much astonishment. He regarded the compass with considerable reverence, and pointed to the charms which hung upon his breast; evidently he believed they were as potent as the devices of the white man, or at all events of the same character, and it was not deemed worth the while to explain the compass to him. The engines puzzled him greatly, and he was quite unable to understand how they could be moved by hot water. He looked over the stern at the propeller, and, after studying it for some time, the idea dawned upon him. Making a waving motion with his hand, he pronounced the native word for "fish." Fred nodded, and the negro grinned with delight to think he had understood the operation of the propeller. He was invited to sit on a chair, but preferred the deck, as a more comfortable resting-place. He sat there for several minutes while coffee was brought; he drank eagerly several cups in succession, and ate some of the English biscuits that were offered. The cups hit his fancy, and he begged for one of them; but as the supply was limited he was not accommodated. The Doctor brought out his rifle, and fired two or three shots in rapid succession, to show how quickly the weapon could be operated; the result was that the chief shook his head, as if in doubt whether the gun was of human or diabolic workmanship. The final sensation was created with an explosive shell. For a few beads the Doctor bought a large fish that had been brought along-side, and instructed the natives, through the interpreter, to place it on a raft of reeds, and tow it about a hundred yards from the steamer and there leave it. When they had done as he directed, and retired to a safe distance, he fired an explosive shell into the body of the fish. The shell burst as it struck and tore the fish into a shapeless mass. The chief didn't wish to see anything more of the white man's works, but retired hastily to his boat. He would hardly wait for the presents which had been brought out for him, and he took them with a good deal of reluctance, as though afraid they would blow up and destroy him. [Illustration: ON THE SHORE OF THE LAKE.] CHAPTER XVII. A DAY ON AN ISLAND.--INCIDENTS OF HUNTING AND FISHING.--LAKE-DWELLINGS OF CENTRAL AFRICA. From their halting-place, described in the last chapter, our friends pushed onward without farther delay. The captain of the steamer said there were many islands in the lake, principally on the western side--a fact that was not known till quite recently. Baker, Speke, Stanley, and Long were all unable to make a thorough exploration of the western part of the Albert N'yanza, and all of them came away with the impression that what has since proved to be a series of islands was in reality the main-land. [Illustration: AN ISLAND IN THE LAKE.] Some of the islands are inhabited, but the greater number are without population. The islands were not considered safe from the incursions of the slave-stealers, and some that formerly were densely occupied had latterly been entirely deserted. The slavers would send out spies to learn the situation of an island and the number of persons to be found there. This being ascertained, they would make a sudden descent, usually at night, and the frightened negroes could not escape, as their boats would be in the possession of the robbers. Those who took shelter in the bushes were soon hunted down or starved out, and their primitive weapons were no match whatever for the muskets of their enemies whenever they ventured to fight. The islanders supported themselves mainly by fishing, though they generally had small fields of bananas, plantains, yams, potatoes, and other edible things. They had no goats or sheep, with here and there an exception, but the most of them had flocks of chickens, and occasionally a dog was to be seen. The dog is not usually a popular animal with the African, and the breed is not such as would please a fancier of New York or London. It was necessarily slow work to move among the islands with the steamer, and sometimes an hour or more was consumed in making a single mile. Soundings were taken every few yards, and where there was any probability of running aground the small boat was sent ahead to ascertain the depth of water. They stopped at some of the islands in order to obtain wood for the steamer, and, as they were generally obliged to cut it themselves, the operation of "wooding up" was not a rapid one. On one island they found several logs that had evidently been thrown on shore by the action of the waves when the lake was at its highest point. They were well seasoned by the heat of the tropical sun, and made excellent fuel. The captain of the steamer said he hoped the other islands on the way would be equally kind to them, and furnish them with dry wood instead of green. One of the logs was over five feet in diameter, and nearly a hundred feet long, and the work of reducing it to fuel for the furnaces of the boat was no small task. The island was uninhabited; and as the captain said a couple of days would be required for his men to cut up the logs they had found and load the wood on the boat, the Doctor concluded to pass the night on shore. He ordered the tents to be carried to land and set up where a strip of gravelly beach, with an acre or so of grass beyond it, made an excellent site for a camp. The cooking utensils were left on board, as it was not deemed advisable to make a division of kitchen-work for a single night. Of course the guns and ammunition were carefully looked after. Ramen and Bash were in a tent with Ali, close to Doctor Bronson and his nephew, and they took turns in watching through the night to guard against a surprise. As soon as they were landed Fred was eager to make the tour of the island in search of game. Ramen was sent ahead to see if everything was right; and as there were no indications of natives, either resident or transient, a hunting expedition was organized immediately. [Illustration: A FLOCK OF CRANES.] They had not gone far before the sharp eyes of the youth discovered something in motion on the shore a little way beyond them. Peering through the grass and bushes, and advancing cautiously, he found a flock of cranes, evidently quite unaware of his proximity. Two of them stood with their heads bent forward, as if listening for the rustling of the bushes; another seemed engaged in digesting his breakfast; while the rest were prodding the ground with their long bills in search of worms. Fred motioned to the Doctor, to imply that there was something worthy of a shot, and the Doctor signalled to him to try his skill. In obedience to the signal Fred continued to creep forward, while the Doctor sat down to wait for the result. Soon a shot was heard, and in a few moments Fred came dragging a magnificent crane which he had secured. With a presence of mind unusual in a beginner he had selected the finest of the flock for his target. "Look out for him!" exclaimed Doctor Bronson; "he is not quite dead, and may do you harm." As he spoke he placed his foot on the neck of the bird and held it firmly, while explaining to Fred the reason of his caution. "The crane family is distinguished for its long bill, which is a powerful weapon of offence and defence. When wounded it is capable of dealing heavy blows, and it aims at the eye of whoever or whatever comes near it. I once knew a gentleman in Missouri who lost an eye, and came near losing his life, by a blow from a crane. He had wounded a large crane so severely that it was lying on the ground apparently dead; as he stooped to pick it up the bird struck him in the right eye, destroying it instantly, and inflicting a severe wound besides. Instances of the same kind occur almost every year, and when you fire at these birds you should be very cautious about approaching any that may fall at your shot." Fred said he had looked at the bird before picking it up, and he touched it with his foot to make sure that it was incapable of harm. Doctor Bronson replied that the crane will sometimes rouse itself when supposed to have been killed, and deal severe blows to its assailants; for this reason it should be approached very cautiously. The prize was handed over to one of the attendants, and the party moved on. The flock of cranes had flown away and left no chance for a second shot; they are very shy, and take alarm at the least noise. Fred was quite content with the one he had secured. The crane is not worth much for table purposes, as his body consists mainly of hard muscles, and his flesh has a fishy flavor on account of his diet. [Illustration: FRED'S SECOND PRIZE.] Aquatic birds seemed to be the order of the day, as the next victim of Fred's shot was a kingfisher, which was perched on a low tree-top close to the water. He was on the watch for a fish, and did not heed the approach of the hunters till too late. [Illustration: A PAIR OF KINGFISHERS AT HOME.] Doctor Bronson said the kingfisher was to be found in all parts of the world, and more than a hundred varieties of it had been classified by naturalists. The largest of them is found in Australia; it is about eighteen inches long, and feeds in the woods as well as in the water. Another variety, belonging to South America, has a peculiar scream, resembling a loud and prolonged laugh, and for this reason it is sometimes called "the laughing jackass." "Haven't I read somewhere," said Fred, "that the kingfisher is the 'halcyon' of the ancients, and that its habits and period of hatching its eggs gave rise to the term 'halcyon days?'" "Quite likely you have," was the reply, "since such is the case. The kingfisher has been a familiar bird in all ages, as he is not at all shy, and, when undisturbed, he will remain until you walk quite close to him. As his name implies his chief food is fish of his own catching, but he does not disdain the mouse or other animal small enough for him to grapple with. Some varieties make their nests in hollow trees, but the majority dig holes in banks, unless they can find unoccupied ones that were made by some burrowing animal and abandoned. Whether the bird appropriates a deserted nest or makes one of its own, it always has it with the entrance sloping upward, so that the rain cannot enter. Moisture is fatal to the eggs, and the kingfisher takes good care that they shall not be injured." The grass bore indications of the presence of the hippopotamus, or river-horse; though Fred remarked that he could not properly be called a river-horse at this point, seeing that he inhabited a lake. It did not make much difference what he was called, as he was probably quite indifferent to what was said of him as long as he was left uninjured. They followed some of the hippo tracks, in the hope of discovering the animal that made them, but without success. The tracks in every instance led to the water, and nobody had the slightest desire to go below the surface to see how the hippo got along. Just as they were turning back from the last of the traps Fred espied some birds flying in the air too far off to be worth a shot; he called the attention of the Doctor to the birds, and the latter, after a brief glance at them through his glass, said they were fish-eagles. [Illustration: FISH-EAGLE ON A HIPPOPOTAMUS TRAP.] "Yes, fish-eagles," as he took another look at them, "and one has just lighted on the top of a low tree. No, it's a trap for a hippo; and so the island, if not inhabited, is visited by people who do not live far away." Fred wanted to go in pursuit of the eagle, as he desired to preserve its skin, as a trophy of his skill in hunting; but the Doctor said the ground was too wet and soft for them to go there. "And besides," he continued, "there may be some one watching the trap; and, if so, he might resent our visit and send an arrow or a spear, without waiting for us to explain our intentions." The walk was continued a couple of hours or more, but no additional prizes were secured. There were not many birds among the trees, and the Doctor said it would be useless to look for deer or similar game on the island, as none were at all likely to be found there. The animals couldn't swim there from the main-land, on account of the crocodiles, and there was no probability that the natives would bring them off in boats, and endeavor to start a deer-park on private account. There were few places where walking was at all easy, owing to the abundance of vines and brushwood. There were occasional patches of grass, but it grew so high that half the time the travellers could not see at all, and therefore hunting was quite out of the question. Soon after their return to camp our friends went on board the steamer for dinner. They came on shore again as soon as the meal was over, and prepared to pass the night on land. The evening brought clouds of mosquitoes that threatened to resent the invasion of the island by devouring the invaders. But the nets had been spread for their reception, and they were disappointed in their hopes, if any had been raised, of tasting American blood. Fred incautiously opened his net to enter it, instead of crawling underneath, according to the approved fashion; the result was that he had music all through the night, which had not been bargained for; but as he was wearied with the walk and excitements of the day he soon fell asleep, and allowed the mosquitoes to sup as they liked. The next morning Fred took a stroll along the shore of the lake in a direction opposite to that he had taken when hunting cranes and king-fishers, and it resulted in an important discovery. He found a field, or badly kept garden, of yams and sweet potatoes. He was not quite certain as to the former, but there was no doubt about the sweet potatoes. He ran back to camp to tell the Doctor what he had found, and the news was immediately sent to the captain of the boat. While they waited for the captain to join them the Doctor explained to his nephew what the yam was. [Illustration: CENTRAL AFRICAN YAM.] "It is," said he, "the popular name for a considerable number of plants of the genus _Dioscorea_, and in the southern part of the United States is applied to light-colored varieties of the sweet potato. The yam is, practically, a tropical plant, though some of its species are found in the middle of the temperate zone. In the latter case the tubers or roots are small and of little value, while the tropical ones often reach a weight of thirty or forty pounds. It contains a large amount of starch, and in its component parts it greatly resembles the potato." Fred asked why it was not possible to have the yam take the place of the potato in the United States, if it grew so large and was such a good article of food. "It is quite possible to do so," was the reply; "but the potato is easier to cultivate than any yam that will thrive in our latitude. The great yams grow only in the tropics. The only one that will grow in the Northern States is the Chinese or Japanese variety, and many experiments were made with it some years ago, when there was a general failure of the potato crop. [Illustration: POTATO AND YAM FIELDS.] "The Chinese yam has a root two feet or more in length, largest at the lower end, and going straight down into the ground. The difficulty with these yams was the trouble of digging out the roots, as their shape and brittleness prevented their being pulled like beets or carrots; and the only places where they are now cultivated in America are in the gardens of gentlemen who are fond of curiosities without regard to the expense." Some of the yams in the garden they visited weighed fifty or sixty pounds each, and their shape was like that of a deformed human foot. Enough of them were taken for the wants of the steamer, and in their place was left a box containing an equivalent for their value in beads and brass wire. The captain of the steamer did not think it necessary to leave anything, but he was overruled by Doctor Bronson, who said he would have nothing from the garden unless it was paid for; and as the owner was not present to receive his compensation the articles must be left where he could find them. After the yams had been secured our friends turned their attention to fishing, but without much success, as their implements were limited, and they did not know the proper localities for the sport. They succeeded in capturing a few specimens, which were pronounced similar to those they had seen at the village near the head of the river, and identical with the fishes found in the upper part of the Nile. [Illustration: THE KILNOKY.] There was one which was called _kilnoky_ by Bash and Ramen. It had a long and broad head, and very powerful fins, and its sides were spotted somewhat after the manner of a trout. On each side of the mouth and beneath the jaw there were "feelers," similar to those of the cat-fish, and the dorsal fin was protected by spines, which required the novice to exercise caution to avoid being pricked. [Illustration: YOUNG POLYPTERUS.] Another fish, which Ramen said was called _besher_ on the Nile and _gurr_ on the lakes, had a short tail, to balance a long nose, and his back was covered with curious spines that stood out by themselves. Doctor Bronson said its proper name was _Polypterus_, and it was to be found all through Central Africa, according to the information gathered by Schweinfurth and others. Fred angled awhile by himself, and caught a couple of fishes which were pronounced "warr" by one of the soldiers. The youth remarked that they looked very much like the perch of his native land, as the body of the fish was of a dark-green color, crossed by stripes of brown. "They belong to the perch family," said the Doctor, "and so does the 'golo,' or _Lates niloticus_. There are several varieties of perch in Africa, but these are the most abundant." During their rest under the tents, while the sun was high in the sky, the conversation naturally turned upon the African lakes and the people living around them. Fred asked about the people that inhabit the islands of other lakes, and also about some tribes that dwell in houses standing in the water. [Illustration: LAKE MOHRYA, WITH VILLAGES.] "I can only refer you to Cameron," said the Doctor, in reply. "He visited a small lake, in his journey across Africa, where the people actually live in the water. There are few lakes where this would be possible, on account of the presence of crocodiles, who would drive to the land everybody they did not eat. The lake seen by Cameron was called Mohrya, and lies east of Tanganyika, on the route to the Atlantic Ocean. It is rather a pond than a lake, as it is only a couple of miles long by one in width, and lies in a basin surrounded by low hills. "Cameron tried to obtain boats to take him to these curious dwellings, but could not do so, as the people on land had none, and the lake-dwellers were very shy of allowing strangers to visit their houses. All he could do was to sit on the shore and study them with his telescope. [Illustration: A HOUSE IN THE WATER.] "The huts were built on poles driven into the bed of the lake, and the floor of each hut was about six feet above the surface of the water. Boats were kept under the huts, and nets were stretched between the poles, so that they could be dried by the sun and air. The people live entirely in these huts, and only come to land to cultivate their gardens, which lie near the water. "They go from house to house," the Doctor continued, "by the simple process of swimming. It is rumored that there are large snakes in the water, whose bites are poisonous; but Mr. Cameron could see nothing of them, and evidently the story is untrue, or the people would be more careful. They keep fowls and goats in their huts, and bring the former to land to graze, but they always return home with them when night comes on." Fred wished to know something of this curious tribe, but the Doctor was unable to give him farther information. He added, however, that lake dwellings are of very ancient origin, and are mentioned in history by Herodotus and other Greek writers. "Yes," replied Fred, "I have read of them in descriptions of Switzerland and Ireland, and we saw huts in the water when we were in Siam and Java." [Illustration: IDEAL REPRESENTATION OF A SWISS LAKE-VILLAGE.] "The lake-dwellers of Asia and Africa are modern," said Doctor Bronson, "but those of Europe disappeared ages and ages ago. All the lakes of Switzerland once contained villages built on piles, and some of them were quite extensive. From twenty to fifty villages have been explored in each of the larger Swiss lakes, and many others in the smaller ones. Most of them date from the age of stone implements, before the discovery of metals, and in the remains of the villages many weapons and utensils of stone are found. One village covered an area of three acres, and stood on piles or posts of 'hard wood'--beech, oak, and fir--and most of them ten or twelve feet long. There were about one hundred thousand of these piles. The village was in the middle of a small lake, and had a bridge, connecting it with the shore. There are two sets of piles, one above the other, so that it is evident the village was occupied at two different periods. "Another lake was completely surrounded by these dwellings, and among the relics discovered there are articles of wood, horn, bone, bronze, and gold. When you visit Switzerland you will see, at Lucerne, Zurich, and other places, some of the relics brought up from the lakes, and putting us face to face, as it were, with the people of a prehistoric age." CHAPTER XVIII. DR. LIVINGSTONE AND HIS DISCOVERIES. When the work of "wooding up" was completed the steamer continued her voyage. An effort was made to visit the western shore; but at every halting-place the natives came down in considerable numbers, and their movements were so threatening that Doctor Bronson did not consider it judicious to attempt to land. As he was under obligation to the Egyptian authorities for the use of the steamboat he did not wish to do anything, however slight, that might lead to hostilities. For this reason he declined to go on shore where there was the slightest possibility of trouble with the natives, and contented himself with looking at it from the deck of the steamer. While they were sitting under the sheltering awning and studying the landscape before them Fred asked about the travels and explorations of Dr. Livingstone. [Illustration: LIVINGSTONE'S HOUSE AT ZANZIBAR.] "He was the son of a poor weaver in Glasgow," was the reply, "and gained the most of his early education at an evening school while working in a cotton-mill. Afterward he managed to devote his winters to study, and supported himself by working for the rest of the year. He was born March 19, 1813, and died May 1, 1873. [Illustration: DAVID LIVINGSTONE.] "His family were earnest Presbyterians, and his early training led him to the study of theology; he combined with it the study of medicine, and, after devoting himself to these matters for several years, he offered his services to the London Missionary Society, and was sent to Africa. He arrived at Natal in 1840, and from that time till his death, thirty-three years later, his life was devoted to the work of civilizing and Christianizing the 'Dark Continent.' "The record of his travels and explorations is in his published volumes, and in a book entitled 'Livingstone's Last Journals,' which contains the history of the final years of his life and the melancholy account of his death." Fred asked the names of Dr. Livingstone's books. "During the early years of his missionary work," the Doctor continued, "he sent a great many documents to England, containing valuable information of a geographical and scientific character; they were printed by the London Missionary Society in its journal. But nothing appeared in book-form till 1857, when he published 'Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa.' He visited England to superintend the publication of the volume, and returned to Africa in 1858. "Down to that time he had devoted himself to missionary work, and all his travels and explorations were directly in connection with the effort to Christianize Africa. In 1858 he went, on behalf of the English government, and aided by private subscriptions, to explore the southern part of the great continent. "On this journey he started from Quilimane, at the mouth of the Zambesi River, and travelled in a north-westerly direction. For a part of the route he followed the course of the river, and then turned away from it to the north, in search of a lake of which he had been told by the natives. He discovered the lake (Nyassa) in 1859, and explored the country to the west and north-west of it, and the whole region around the head-waters of the north-east branch of the Zambesi and its tributaries. "The work occupied him till 1863. His wife accompanied him on the journey, and died in the interior of Africa, in April, 1862. In 1864 he returned to England, and published 'A Narrative of an Expedition to the Zambesi and its Tributaries.' Then, as soon as the book was issued, he made preparations for another expedition, and left England in 1865. "Nothing was heard from him for more than a year, and in March, 1867, a report came to England that he had been killed in a skirmish with the natives on the banks of Lake Nyassa. It was not generally believed, and in June of the same year an expedition was sent to look for him. It was under the command of Mr. E. D. Young, and although it did not succeed in finding him, it obtained information that convinced Mr. Young of the incorrectness of the report. "Letters were received in 1869 (more than a year old) from Dr. Livingstone, so that there was no farther doubt that the story of his death in the skirmish was incorrect. Another letter came a year later, and then there was no news for more than twenty months, so that his friends feared he was no longer alive. "The New York _Herald_ sent one of its correspondents, Mr. Henry M. Stanley, to look for Livingstone and to find him, if still alive. Stanley started from Zanzibar and went to Ujiji, on the shores of Lake Tanganyika, where he found Dr. Livingstone alive and well, but unable to travel, for the reason that he had no goods with which to pay his way. Stanley remained with him from the autumn of 1871 till March, 1872. They went together to explore the northern part of Lake Tanganyika, to determine whether it flowed into the Nile. They satisfied themselves that it was not a tributary of the great river of Egypt, and that the source of the Nile lay farther to the north. "On his return to Zanzibar, Stanley sent fresh supplies to Doctor Livingstone, to enable the latter to complete his explorations. It was the Doctor's intention to devote a year or more to this work, and then return to England, to publish his account and reside there permanently. "But his plans were never carried out, as he died in the field of his work. After Stanley's return to England another expedition was sent out, under command of Lieutenant Cameron, to carry supplies to the great explorer and render him any assistance in its power. Cameron left Zanzibar in March, 1873, and reached Unyanyembe in the following August. While he was making preparations for proceeding farther the news of Livingstone's death reached him in the shape of a letter from Jacob Wainwright, the doctor's negro servant." Doctor Bronson paused a few moments before continuing the story. [Illustration: CHUMA AND SUSI.] "There are few men in the world," said the Doctor, "who can surpass, or even equal, Livingstone in securing the affection and devotion of their followers. In his last expedition, starting from Unyanyembe in August, 1872, he was accompanied by about eighty men, most of them having been sent from Zanzibar by Stanley. Three of his men had been with him for eight years, and two others for six years; but the rest were comparatively new in his service. The three first mentioned were Susi, Chuma, and Amoda, who joined Livingstone on the Zambesi River in 1864, and the other two were Mabruki and Gardner, who were hired at Zanzibar in 1866. The new-comers soon became as zealous as the older ones in looking out for the welfare of their leader, and during his last illness, and down to the day of his death, they did all in their power to make him comfortable. "Remember that he was a white man, and a stranger in the country. The negro is not credited with a large amount of honesty by those who have travelled in Africa; and certainly there are many instances of treachery and rascality in the stories told by explorers. Dr. Livingstone was frequently deceived by guides and scouts during his journeys, and he was plundered by the chiefs, who demanded heavy tributes for the permission to pass through their country. I have already told you of the constant difficulties in the way of obtaining porters before starting on a journey, and of the large number of desertions on the road. "In his last journey Dr. Livingstone's men remained faithful to the end of his days, and when he died they embalmed his body and brought it, with all his journals and every article of his personal property, safe to the coast. In addition to the difficulty of transporting it for hundreds of miles through the country, where there were no roads, they had to meet the superstition of the African tribes on their way, who have the greatest horror of a dead body, and would have killed every man of the party if they had known the burden they were carrying. Knowing what we do of the difficulties and dangers that confronted these faithful but ignorant men, it is a wonder that they undertook what they did, and still more wonderful that they succeeded. [Illustration: PAGE FROM LIVINGSTONE'S LAST JOURNAL.] "Every scrap of his journals, from the day of his departure from Zanzibar down to the last line he was able to write, a week before his death, was preserved and brought home. They show to what straits he was sometimes reduced for writing materials, as many of his notes are written on old newspapers sewn together into the shape of books, and he was often obliged to make his own pencils and ink. His rough notes were taken in this way, and when he had time for writing in full he copied them into a larger journal. One of these journals was sent to England, in care of Mr. Stanley, and delivered to the missionary's family. "While we are on this topic I may as well tell you of the closing days of Dr. Livingstone's life. "There are comparatively few entries in his journal. His men say that his health was never good from the first day of the journey, and when they halted at night he was too weak to make many notes. The word 'ill' occurs frequently on the pages of his diary, and on several occasions it is the only record of an entire day. For the last few days of his travels he was unable to walk, and was carried on a 'kitanda,' or litter, made by his men. It was rudely formed, but strong. It consisted of a framework seven feet long, with several cross-pieces, and a bed of grass, on which the sufferer could recline comfortably. It was slung from a pole, and carried on the shoulders of two men, and in general appearance was not unlike the palanquin which you saw in India, and was better for an invalid than the sedan-chair of China. "In the fac-simile of the last page but one of Livingstone's journal, you see that his writing is cramped and evidently made with great difficulty, and the last line refers to his being carried on the kitanda. The entry on the 21st (of April) mentions his trying to ride, but he says he was forced to lie down, and they carried him back to the village, much exhausted. "His men say that on this morning he mounted his donkey as usual, but his strength was so far gone that he could not retain his place in the saddle, and fell fainting to the ground after riding only a short distance. In this condition he was carried by Chuma, one of his men, back to the village, and rested during the day. The chief of the village was very kind to him, and said he could rest there as long as he pleased, and, when ready to move on, the guides for the road should be ready. [Illustration: THE LAST MILE OF LIVINGSTONE'S JOURNEY.] "It was during this day of resting that his men constructed the kitanda, and from that time till the 30th of April he was carried upon it. He died in the village of Ilala, which belonged to a chief named Chitambo. The Doctor's men say they were kindly treated by Chitambo during all their stay, and when they left he gave them all the guides and provisions that they needed." Fred asked what was the disease which caused the death of the great explorer. [Illustration: LIVINGSTONE ENTERING THE HUT WHERE HE DIED.] "He died from malarial poisoning," replied the Doctor, "as many other Europeans have died in Africa. He had suffered from it for several years, and realized that unless he returned to England, to reside there permanently, he could not hope to recover. As I told you before, he was intending to do so in the very year in which he died. [Illustration: FORDING A SWOLLEN RIVER.] "In one of his journeys Dr. Livingstone travelled an estimated distance of eleven thousand miles, and the sum of his travels in Africa has been placed as high as sixty thousand miles. A great part of this was performed on foot. There were many journeys by river and lake, nearly always in native canoes, and comparatively few in boats of European construction, owing to the difficulty of carrying them around cataracts or other obstructions on the rivers, or making long traverses from one lake to another. In South Africa, and in some parts of Central Africa, horses or donkeys may be used for riding purposes; but these animals are scarce, and quite as liable as their masters to fall victims to the pestilential fevers of Africa. "The climate is not by any means the worst enemy of the dumb animals that accompany the African traveller. Lions prowl around the camps, and when their presence is quite unexpected they spring from the bushes and kill the horse or other animal they have marked for their prey with a single stroke of their powerful paw. Many travellers have lost their favorite steeds in this way, and in South Africa thousands upon thousands of oxen have been killed by lions. On the return of Dr. Livingstone's party to the coast they undertook to bring his riding donkey, but the poor beast was killed by a lion only a few days' journey from the spot where the doctor died. [Illustration: A LION KILLING LIVINGSTONE'S DONKEY.] "According to custom the men had built a stable for him, where they thought he would be secure, as it was close to their quarters. In the middle of the night there was a loud crash that roused everybody: the men ran out, and found the stable broken and the donkey gone. They set fire to the grass to make a light, as the night was very dark, and as soon as the blaze rose up they saw a lion close to the body of the donkey. They fired at the intruder, and wounded him. He retreated growling, and the men did not think it prudent to follow. The donkey was quite dead, and there is no doubt that he was instantly killed when the lion sprung upon him. The next morning they found a broad track of blood where the lion had dragged himself along; but as there was the track of another lion close by it they did not follow the trail far into the bushes. "Dr. Livingstone was early impressed with the horrors of the slave-trade in the interior of Africa, and in all his writings he frequently referred to the infamous business. In one part of his journal he describes how he found the dead body of a woman tied by the neck to a tree. The people of the country told him that she had been unable to keep up with the caravan, and her master, finding that he must abandon her, determined to make an example that would frighten the rest. So he tied her to the tree and left her to die, and whenever any others of his caravan broke down they met a similar fate or were killed on the spot. One day some of the doctor's men went a little way from the path and found a number of slaves yoked together with sticks, and so near death from starvation that none of them were able to speak. [Illustration: "GOREE," OR SLAVE-STICK.] "The 'goree,' or slave-stick, is made from the fork of a small tree. It is placed on the neck of a negro, and the ends of the fork are fastened together by an iron rod, riveted at each end; and as the man's hands are generally tied behind him he has no way of escaping from his bonds. [Illustration: MANNER OF FETTERING A GANG OF SLAVES.] "Whenever Dr. Livingstone encountered one of these travelling gangs of slaves he released them, if the circumstances permitted, and they generally did. By so doing he roused the hostility of the slave-traders, who revenged themselves by spreading unfavorable reports concerning him, and inciting the natives to attack him. Most of his troubles with the natives were from this cause, and several times his escape from death at their hands was exceedingly narrow. The slave-traders were too cowardly to make any open fight with him, and when he met them on the road with their slaves they generally ran away, and left him to deal with their human merchandise as he liked. [Illustration: SLAVERS AVENGING THEIR LOSSES.] "One of his stories of an encounter with a slave caravan is quite amusing. "One day he heard from a native that a gang of slaves on its way to the coast was coming along the road, and would shortly appear in sight. He was in a little village where the party was to pass, and so he sat down and waited for them. "In a little while the slave-party, a long line of manacled men, women, and children, came wending their way round the hill into the valley, on the side of which the village stood. The black drivers, armed with muskets and bedecked with various articles of finery, marched jauntily in the front, middle, and rear of the line, some of them blowing exultant notes out of long tin horns. 'They seemed to think,' says the doctor, 'that they were doing a very noble thing, and might proudly march with an air of triumph; but the instant the fellows caught a glimpse of the English they darted off like mad into the forest--so fast, indeed, that we caught but a glimpse of their red caps and the soles of their feet. The chief of the party alone remained; and he, being in front, had his hand tightly grasped by a Makololo. He proved to be a well-known slave of the late commandant at Tette, and for some time our own attendant while there. "'On asking him,' says Dr. Livingstone, 'how he obtained these captives he replied that he had bought them; but on inquiring of the people themselves, all, save four, said they had been captured in war. While this inquiry was going on he bolted too. "'The captives were thus left entirely in our hands, and knives were soon busy cutting the women and children loose. It was more difficult to cut the men adrift, as each had his neck in the fork of a stout stick, six or seven feet long, and kept in by an iron rod, which was riveted at both ends, across the throat. With a saw luckily in our baggage, one by one the men were sawn out into freedom. The women, on being told to take the meal they were carrying and cook breakfast for themselves and the children, seemed to consider the news too good to be true; but, after a little coaxing, went to work with a will, using the old slave-sticks for making a fire. Some of the captives were mere children. Two women had been shot the day before for attempting to untie their thongs, and a man was killed with an axe because he had broken down with fatigue.'" In continuing his account of the work of Livingstone, Doctor Bronson said that the explorer's habit of making on the spot notes of everything he saw that would be of interest to the English reader had rendered his books very valuable. Some of his statements were at first received with a grain of doubt, but his reputation for veracity was soon established. It was found that wherever there was any inaccuracy of statement in his reports it was due to his having received the story from some one else. Truth does not prevail among the people of Africa any more than in other lands; and the facetious American who enjoys "fooling a reporter," by gravely telling a lot of falsehoods, which there is no time to investigate, has his prototype in the wilds of the "Dark Continent." [Illustration: QUILIMANE, AT THE MOUTH OF THE ZAMBESI.] "We must," resumed Doctor Bronson, "read his works in order to appreciate Dr. Livingstone's labors in Central and Southern Africa. There are notes on natural history, botany, and kindred studies, together with descriptions of all the people and tribes among whom he travelled. One day he met a party of honey-hunters, and sat down for a chat with them. They pointed to a small bird that was quietly resting on the limbs of a tree near them, and said it was their honey-guide. The bird attracts the attention of the native by hopping from twig to twig and calling in the sharpest notes of his voice; when he finds he is followed he leads the way to a hollow tree or other spot where a swarm of bees has its home, and as soon as the honey has been taken he regales himself on the fragments of comb that lie scattered on the ground. This bird is described in books on natural history, and is said to belong to the cuckoo family. The natives follow it, in full confidence that it will lead them to a deposit of honey; but it sometimes happens that they are conducted to the lair of a lion or other ferocious beast. [Illustration: VIEW ON THE NAVIGABLE PART OF THE ZAMBESI.] "Livingstone's memory will always be preserved in connection with the exploration of the Zambesi, and the discovery of the great cataract of Mosi-oa-tunya, better known as the Victoria Falls of the Zambesi, though the former name is to be preferred. "He discovered the falls in 1855, on his first ascent of the valley of the Zambesi, and the account he gave was so startling that he was thought to be wandering from the truth. In his second journey, five years later, he made a detailed examination of the cataract, making careful measurements of the heights and distances, so that there could be no mistake. If you look at his book and compare the measurements with those of Niagara, you can hardly fail to be astonished." Fred went below to find the volume in question, and soon returned with it. From Dr. Livingstone's description of the great Falls of the Zambesi he read the following: "On the 9th of August, 1860, we proceeded to see the Victoria Falls. Mosi-oa-tunya is the native name, and means smoke-sounding. Seongo, or Chongwe, meaning the rainbow, or the place of the rainbow, was the more ancient term they bore. We embarked in canoes belonging to Tuba Mokoro (smasher of canoes)--an ominous name; but he alone, it seems, knew the medicine which insures one against shipwreck in the rapids above the falls. For some miles the river was smooth and tranquil, and we glided pleasantly over water as clear as crystal, and past lovely islands, densely covered with a tropical vegetation. But our attention was quickly called from the charming islands to the dangerous rapids, down which Tuba might unintentionally shoot us. To confess the truth, the very ugly aspect of these roaring rapids could scarcely fail to cause some uneasiness in the minds of new-comers. It is only when the river is very low, as it was now, that any one durst venture to the island to which we were bound. If one went during the period of flood, and fortunately hit the island, he would be compelled to remain there till the water subsided again, if he lived so long. Both hippopotami and elephants have been known to be swept over the falls, and of course smashed to pulp. "After many narrow escapes from being dashed on the rocks we landed at the head of Garden Island, which is situated near the middle of the river, and on the lip of the falls. [Illustration: THE GREAT FALLS OF MOSI-OA-TUNYA.] "On reaching that lip, and peering over the giddy height, the wondrous and unique character of the magnificent cascade at once burst upon us. It is rather a hopeless task to endeavor to convey an idea of it in words, since, as was remarked on the spot, an accomplished painter, even by a number of views, could but impart a faint impression of the glorious scene. The probable mode of its formation may perhaps help to the conception of its peculiar shape. Niagara has been formed by a wearing back of the rock over which the river falls; and, during a long course of ages, it has gradually receded, and left a broad, deep, and pretty straight trough in front. It goes on wearing back daily, and may yet discharge the lakes from which its river flows. But the Victoria Falls have been formed by a crack right across the river in the hard, black, basaltic rock which there formed the bed of the Zambesi. The lips of the crack are still quite sharp, save about three feet of the edge over which the river rolls. The walls go sheer down from the lips without any projecting crag, or symptom of stratification or dislocation. When the mighty rift occurred no change of level took place in the two parts of the bed of the river thus rent asunder; consequently, in coming down the river to Garden Island the water suddenly disappears, and we see the opposite side of the cleft, with grass and trees growing where once the river ran, on the same level as that part of its bed on which we sail. "The first crack is, in length, a few yards more than the breadth of the Zambesi, which by measurement we found to be a little over eighteen hundred and sixty yards, but this number we resolved to retain, as indicating the year in which the fall was for the first time carefully examined. The main stream here runs nearly north and south, and the cleft across it is nearly east and west. The depth of the rift was measured by lowering a line, to the end of which a few bullets and a foot of white cotton cloth were tied. One of us lay with his head over a projecting crag, and watched the descending calico, till, after his companions had paid out three hundred and ten feet, the weight rested on a sloping projection, probably fifty feet from the water below, the actual bottom being still farther down. The white cloth now appeared the size of a crown-piece. On measuring the width of this deep cleft by sextant it was found, at Garden Island, its narrowest part, to be eighty yards, and at its broadest somewhat more. Into this chasm, of twice the depth of Niagara Falls, the river, a full mile wide, rolls with a deafening roar; and this is Mosi-oa-tunya, or the Victoria Falls. "Looking from Garden Island down to the bottom of the abyss, nearly half a mile of water, which has fallen over that portion of the falls to our right, or west of our point of view, is seen collected in a narrow channel twenty or thirty yards wide, and flowing at exactly right angles to its previous course, to our left; while the other half, or that which fell over the eastern portion of the falls, is seen in the left of the narrow channel below, coming toward our right. Both waters unite midway, in a fearful boiling whirlpool, and find an outlet by a crack situated at right angles to the fissure of the falls. This outlet is about eleven hundred and seventy yards from the western end of the chasm, and some six hundred from its eastern end; the whirlpool is at its commencement. The Zambesi, now apparently not more than twenty or thirty yards wide, rushes and surges south through the narrow escape-channel for one hundred and thirty yards; then enters a second chasm, somewhat deeper, and nearly parallel with the first. Abandoning the bottom of the eastern half of this second chasm to the growth of large trees, it turns sharply off to the west, and forms a promontory, with the escape-channel at its point, of eleven hundred and seventy yards long, and four hundred and sixteen yards broad at the base. After reaching this base the river runs abruptly round the head of another promontory, and flows away to the east, in a third chasm; then glides round a third promontory, much narrower than the rest, and away back to the west, in a fourth chasm; and we could see in the distance that it appeared to round still another promontory, and bend once more in another chasm toward the east. In this gigantic zigzag, yet narrow, trough the rocks are all so sharply cut and angular, that the idea at once arises that the hard basaltic trap must have been riven into its present shape by a force acting from beneath, and that this probably took place when the ancient inland seas were let off by similar fissures nearer the ocean. "The land beyond, or on the south of the falls, retains, as already remarked, the same level as before the rent was made. It is as if the trough below Niagara were bent right and left several times before it reached the railway bridge. The land in the supposed bends, being of the same height as that above the fall, would give standing-places, or points of view, of the same nature as that from the railway bridge; but the nearest would be only eighty yards, instead of two miles (the distance to the bridge), from the face of the cascade. The tops of the promontories are in general flat, smooth, and studded with trees. The first, with its base on the east, is at one place so narrow that it would be dangerous to walk to its extremity. On the second, however, we found a broad rhinoceros path and a hut; but, unless the builder were a hermit, with a pet rhinoceros, we cannot conceive what beast or man ever went there for. On reaching the apex of this second eastern promontory we saw the great river, of a deep sea-green color, now sorely compressed, gliding away at least four hundred feet below us. "Garden Island, when the river is low, commands the best view of the Great Fall chasm, as also of the promontory opposite, with its grove of large evergreen trees, and brilliant rainbows of three-quarters of a circle, two, three, and sometimes even four in number, resting on the face of the vast perpendicular rock, down which tiny streams are always running, to be swept again back by the upward rushing vapor. But, as at Niagara one has to go over to the Canadian shore to see the chief wonder--the great Horseshoe Fall--so here we have to cross over to Moselekatse's side, to the promontory of evergreens, for the best view of the principal falls of Mosi-oa-tunya. Beginning, therefore, at the base of this promontory, and facing the cataract, at the west end of the chasm, there is, first, a fall of thirty-six yards in breadth, and of course, as they all are, upward of three hundred and ten feet in depth. Then Boaruka, a small island, intervenes, and next comes a great fall, with a breadth of five hundred and seventy-three yards; a projecting rock separates this from a second grand fall of three hundred and twenty-five yards broad--in all upward of nine hundred yards of perennial falls. Farther east stands Garden Island; then, as the river was at its lowest, came a good deal of the bare rock of its bed, with a score of narrow falls, which, at the time of flood, constitute one enormous cascade of nearly another half mile. Near the east end of the chasm are two larger falls, but they are nothing, at low-water, compared to those between the islands. "The whole body of water rolls clear over, quite unbroken; but, after a descent of ten or more feet, the entire mass suddenly becomes like a huge sheet of driven snow. Pieces of water leap off it in the form of comets with tails streaming behind, till the whole snowy sheet becomes myriads of rushing, leaping, aqueous comets. This peculiarity was not observed by Charles Livingstone at Niagara, and here it happens possibly from the dryness of the atmosphere, or whatever the cause may be which makes every drop of Zambesi water appear to possess a sort of individuality. It runs off the ends of the paddles, and glides in beads along the smooth surface, like drops of quick-silver on a table. Here we see them in a conglomeration, each with a train of pure white vapor, racing down till lost in clouds of spray. A stone dropped in became less and less to the eye, and at last disappeared in the dense mist below. "Charles Livingstone had seen Niagara, and gave Mosi-oa-tunya the palm, though now at the end of a drought, and the river at its very lowest. Many feel a disappointment on first seeing the great American falls, but Mosi-oa-tunya is so strange it must ever cause wonder. In the amount of water Niagara probably excels, though not during the months when the Zambesi is in flood. The vast body of water, separating in the comet-like forms described, necessarily encloses in its descent a large volume of air, which, forced into the cleft to an unknown depth, rebounds, and rushes up loaded with vapor, to form the three or even six columns, as if of steam, visible at the Batoka village, Moachemba, twenty-one miles distant. On attaining a height of two hundred, or at most three hundred, feet from the level of the river above the cascade this vapor becomes condensed into a perpetual shower of fine rain. Much of the spray, rising to the west of Garden Island, falls on the grove of evergreen trees opposite; and from their leaves heavy drops are forever falling, to form sundry little rills, which, in running down the steep face of rock, are blown off and turned back, or licked off their perpendicular bed up into the column from which they have just descended." [Illustration: BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF MOSI-OA-TUNYA.] CHAPTER XIX. FROM THE ALBERT N'YANZA TO FOUEIRA. The voyage of the lake was completed without any incident of importance. The time went quickly enough in visits to the islands and occasional halts on the shore, and a couple of days before the date arranged for meeting Frank the steamer reached Magungo, and ascended the Somerset River, or Victoria Nile, to the foot of Murchison Falls. Frank was not there, but a messenger was waiting with a letter from him. It briefly told the incidents of his journey from Afuddo to Foueira, and said that he thought best to remain at Foueira, to make certain repairs to the packages which were in his care, and had become injured on the way, and also to keep the porters in readiness for their departure to the south. Besides, if he went to the falls and returned to Foueira he would be obliged to go twice over the same road. He preferred to hear of the journey from the lips of Doctor Bronson and his cousin, rather than to make it himself, and he hoped they would think his decision a proper one. Of course, his action was approved without hesitation, as his absence from the fort might endanger the safety of their supplies, and there might be difficulty in having the requisite number of porters when wanted, if they were not kept steadily under control. Frank had taken the precaution to send guides that could conduct them to Foueira, a sufficient number of porters for carrying their baggage, and their saddle-horses, in charge of faithful grooms. Everything was unloaded from the steamer and piled on the bank of the river. It was within a couple of hours of sunset when the work was completed, and therefore Doctor Bronson determined not to move forward till the next day, when they would make an early start. The proper rewards were distributed to the officers and crew of the _Khedive_, and the Doctor and his nephew slept on board for the last time. They were roused before daylight by the faithful Ali, though they really had no occasion to be called, as both were wide-awake when the youth rapped on the doors of their cabins. The excitement of ending the lake voyage and again returning to land travel had given Fred a night of wakefulness, and it is possible that the same causes had had their effect on his more experienced companion. The sun was just peering above the horizon when the caravan was ready to move. As the head of the column of porters turned into the path that led along the bank of the river the steamer cast off the lines that had held her to the shore and turned down the stream, on her return to the point of departure. There was a general hurrahing on shore and on the boat, in token of farewell. As the _Khedive_ disappeared around a bend of the river our friends mounted their horses, and a few minutes later were once more in the depths of the African forest. [Illustration: CARAVAN CROSSING A PLAIN.] Between Foueira and Murchison Falls there is a succession of cascades and rapids. The Albert N'yanza is more than a thousand feet lower than the Victoria N'yanza, and by far the greater part of this descent is below Foueira; consequently the road taken by Doctor Bronson and his nephew ascended considerably. In many places it was so steep that the horses had no easy task to carry their riders, and the porters found it necessary to make frequent halts. Most of the way the route was in sight of the river, or would have been, save for the dense foliage that often made it difficult to see more than a few yards. Near the cascades and rapids the ground was so broken that it often became necessary to go back from the bank a considerable distance to find smooth ground. In a few places the road led over treeless plains several miles across, but for the most part it was among forests and hills. [Illustration: SCENE IN AN AFRICAN VILLAGE.] There were several villages along the route, but our friends did not stop long to examine them. They were all of the same pattern--a collection of grass huts, running to a point at the top, and so heavily thatched that the heaviest rain of tropical Africa could not penetrate them. The inhabitants did not appear to have much to do, as they were generally lying on the ground in front of their dwellings, or seated in little groups, discussing the news of the day or the politics of the country. At one village there was considerable excitement, and Fred suggested that it was probably election-day, and a sharp contest was going on among the friends of the rival candidates. The guide talked with some of the people, and learned that it was not the election of an official, but the advent of a lion in the neighborhood, that made the commotion. The beast was said to be lurking in a thicket close by the village, and the natives implored the Doctor to help them kill the intruder. Fred seconded the proposal; and as the thicket was not far off, and they could easily reach the camp, even if delayed an hour or more, they consented. [Illustration: CROSSING A RIVER ON A FALLEN TREE.] The guide said it was only a few steps away, but it proved to be half a mile and more, and, what was worse, there was a small stream in the way, too wide to step over; it was also too deep for the strangers to ford, though an easy matter for the natives. But there was a bridge, in the shape of a fallen tree, and, by careful balancing along its surface, the party, one by one, reached the other side without accident. Several of the natives had gone on in advance and surrounded the thicket, which, fortunately, was not very large. Doctor Bronson and Fred took their places, about fifty yards apart, where it was thought the lion would endeavor to escape when roused by the sound of the drums and other noisy instruments carried by the natives. When all was ready the signal was given, and the din of the discord began in its full force. Fred was peering sharply into the bushes to watch for any moving thing; all at once he caught sight of a yellow mass gliding along close to the ground, and advancing in his direction. He was satisfied it was the lion, and made ready to fire at the proper moment. Fred's motion of his rifle attracted the Doctor's attention, and he too brought his weapon to the shoulder, and prepared to use it at the first opportunity. The lion crept slowly, as if aware of his danger. Fred allowed him to get within twenty yards of his position, and then discharged the rifle, after taking careful aim. The lion gave a bound into the air. He was evidently wounded, but quite as evidently he was not killed. Doctor Bronson was a good shot "on the wing," and while the lion was in the air a bullet from the Doctor's rifle went crashing through his skull and brought him dead to the ground. There was no need of any farther shot, and the animal never moved a muscle after he touched the earth. There was a wild shout from the guides and others who accompanied them, and in a little while half a hundred and more of the people were around the dead lion. Great was their delight to find that their enemy had been slain, and they were ready to give the hunters anything they might ask. Fred suggested that the skin of the lion would make an admirable trophy. It was speedily removed, and the fleshy side covered with wood-ashes, to assist in its preservation. Our friends declined all other rewards for their services, and returned to the village, where their horses were waiting. On their way back to the village, and just after recrossing the stream on the fallen tree, Fred managed to bring down a bird of a kind he had never seen before. The Doctor examined it, and remarked that it was something extraordinary. [Illustration: GOATSUCKER ("COSMETORNIS SPEKII).] "It is found in several parts of Africa," said he, "and is ordinarily called a goatsucker, for the reason that it is erroneously supposed to obtain milk from goats after the manner of the young kid, and without the permission of their owners. "The specimen you have just shot is called the _Cosmetornis Spekii_ by the naturalists, as it was first described by the traveller Speke. The seventh pen-feathers are double the length of the ordinaries, the eighth is twice as long as the seventh, and the ninth is about twenty inches long. The bird belongs to the same family as the whippoorwill and night-hawk of North America. It rarely goes out by day, and it was quite accidental that you were able to secure this specimen." The chief of the village insisted on their acceptance of a present of fresh fruit, as a token of friendship. Two enormous bunches of bananas were handed over to the servants to carry to camp, and then the hunters took their departure. [Illustration: A CAMP NEAR THE HILLS.] When they reached camp they found that the tents had been pitched on a little plain backed by a range of hills, and just outside a native village. An awning had been placed for the Doctor and Fred, where they could recline comfortably, and have the full benefit of the evening breeze as it swept down from the hills. The people came in with grain and other things to sell, and there was no scarcity of provisions. The character of the commerce of the region was shown by an incident that occurred just after the arrival of our friends, and while they were occupied in their tents. A native came into camp leading a boy at the end of a rope. Whenever the prisoner lagged he received a blow from a stick in the hands of his cruel master; and just outside the line of tents the boy was the victim of a sound beating, in order to make him show his best points when on exhibition. The negro offered the boy for sale, and asked where was the chief trader. Ali replied that the chief of the party was a white man, and did not buy slaves. The negro did not believe Ali's statement, and repeated his demand to see the chief. "I will go and call him," said the boy; "but he is 'Ingleez,' and won't buy slaves." At the word "Ingleez" (English) the native comprehended the situation, and made haste to get out of the camp with his human merchandise. All through Africa the English detestation of the slave-trade is well known, and whenever a trader learns of an Englishman being in his neighborhood he knows that his traffic will receive no countenance. No distinction is made between English and Americans, as the term "Ingleez" is applied to all who speak the language of Great Britain. Frank and Fred tried repeatedly to make the natives understand the difference between English and Americans, but finally gave up the attempt and allowed themselves to be classified as "Ingleez." The universal response to their explanations was, that the strangers spoke the same language and came from beyond the sea, and therefore there could be no difference between them. Frank said there had been many differences, particularly in 1776 and 1812; but his joke was totally lost on his dusky listeners. The next day's march was through a rough country, the road ascending steadily as it followed the valley of the river. The caravan passed several villages, but made no halt at any of them, and the camp for the night was made near a small stream which flowed into the great river, less than a mile away. One of the natives brought a fish caught in the stream. It bore a close resemblance to the trout, and Doctor Bronson said it was evidently a member of that voracious but wary family. Its native name was _moora_, and it was said to be found in several of the smaller streams of that region, but not in the lakes or large rivers. One of the porters met with a serious accident, and the Doctor's professional skill was called into play. The man slipped on a sloping rock, and the fall broke one of the small bones of his right leg. The natives desired to treat it after their manner, which consisted in covering the limb with earth, and then building a fire over it, till the patient howls with agony. He is then released, and the half-roasted flesh is bound in splints and wound with thin bark, and must take its chances of healing. The Doctor refused to allow this treatment, and set the broken limb after the usual manner of American surgeons. Four bearers were then employed to carry the man on a litter to Foueira; and they set off an hour in advance of the caravan, so that there should be no delay. [Illustration: KAWENDÉ SURGERY.] The incident recalled the account which Dr. Livingstone gives of the surgery he once witnessed in the Kawendé country, where the thigh-bone of a native was smashed by the accidental discharge of a rifle. It was as follows: "First of all a hole was dug, say, two feet deep and four in length, in such a manner that the patient could sit in it with his legs out before him. A large leaf was then bound round the fractured thigh and earth thrown in, so that the patient was buried up to the chest. The next act was to cover the earth which lay over the man's legs with a thick layer of mud; then plenty of sticks and grass were collected, and a fire lighted on the top directly over the fracture. To prevent the smoke smothering the sufferer they held a tall mat, as a screen, before his face, and the operation went on. After some time the heat reached the limbs underground; and bellowing with fear, and covered with perspiration, the man implored them to let him out. "The authorities, concluding that he had been sufficiently long under treatment, quickly burrowed down and lifted him from the hole. He was now held perfectly fast while two strong men stretched the wounded limb with all their might. Splints, duly prepared, were afterward bound round it, and we must hope that in due time benefit accrued; but as the ball had passed through the limb, we must have our doubts on the subject. The villagers said that they constantly treated bad gunshot wounds in this way with perfect success." The march the next day and the next were without incident of consequence; and as both Fred and the Doctor were anxious to get to Foueira and meet the companion of their travels through Asia, we will gratify their wishes and stand within a few miles of the encampment. Frank had been notified by the porters who brought the wounded man in advance of the caravan. Immediately on receiving the news he prepared to go out to meet them; and thus it happened that they saw the young gentleman riding along the path when the encampment was yet half a dozen miles away. The meeting was a happy one for all concerned. The boys ran to embrace each other, and the Doctor joined them, so that a triangle of happiness was speedily formed. The natives set up a shout of greeting, partly on account of the meeting of the white men, and partly on their own behalf. There was a considerable number of their friends who had accompanied Frank from the fort, and made haste to remove the burdens from the heads and shoulders of the weary porters and transfer them to their own. Of course all had to sit down for a while to exchange gossip. Fully an hour was taken up with the fraternal meeting, and then the march was resumed. There was little sleep that night in the camp at Foueira until long after twelve o'clock. Our friends had a thousand things to say to each other, and the stories of the last thirty days included a great deal on both sides. The natives had a festival in honor of the safe arrival of the party from the lake: it included a dance around the camp-fires, and a theatrical exhibition, in which some of them were dressed as demons. [Illustration: A PAIR OF SHAM DEMONS.] As these demons were said to be curiosities worth examining, Frank and Fred went out to see them. Frank thought they were more hideous than anything he had ever seen, and Fred suggested that the African idea of demons did not run in the line of beauty. One of them had his entire body covered with a coarse net from the neck down to his feet; his feet and hands were covered with gloves, and his head was concealed by a sort of helmet or mask. The net was striped horizontally, so that the man reminded our friends of a prisoner of Sing Sing, and the gloves and socks were laced to the rest of the dress, so that not an inch of skin was anywhere visible. The man carried a staff in one hand and a bell in the other. He tinkled the bell constantly, and its sound was a signal that he wanted presents, which were to be given to a small boy who followed him with a bag. The other sham demon wore the same kind of clothing. His mask was adorned with a row of feathers, and the face was hideously painted, while a fringed hoop was extended around his waist. A brief inspection of these grotesque figures was sufficient for our friends, who gave some trifling presents and then returned to their tents. Abdul said that these sham demons are to be found among many African tribes, the dress varying according to the fancy of its owner, whose chief endeavor is to conceal his identity while going through his performances, and also to make himself as hideous as possible. The men are analogous to the rain-makers already described, and one of their duties is to keep the real demons from visiting the fields and villages. As no two demons can occupy the same place at once, the shams compel the genuine to move away by monopolizing all the good spots where a demon might wish to live. The trade is by no means unprofitable, as the inhabitants pay liberally for their services. Whenever a calamity of any kind occurs a broad hint is given that the people have been stingy of late, and thus the real demons have put in an appearance. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN BAND OF MUSIC.] Another curiosity of the occasion was the band which furnished the music. It came in front of the tents and played in honor of the strangers, who went out to see as well as to listen. The instruments consisted of hollow gourds, wooden drums, and _marimbas_. The drums were made of long strips of thin planks, which had been soaked in hot water to make them flexible. In this condition they were bent till the ends met, when they were fastened together and allowed to dry. They were capable of a good deal of noise when used industriously, and the natives who managed them seemed to give their whole minds and muscles to the operation. The hollow gourds were blown upon as one might blow into the end of a door-key, and produced a sound like the heavy note of a bugle. The least unpleasant of all the instruments was the _marimba_. It consisted of small sticks placed over the mouths of gourds, and arranged on a portable table suspended from the performer's neck. In this position the sticks were beaten more or less gently, and as they were set to different notes the sound was a nearer approach to music than that of the other instruments. A little of this performance was quite sufficient; and the Doctor distributed presents to the players and hinted that they could move on. But they were determined to give him the value of his money, and continued playing till Abdul came among them and said the _Ingleez_ had had all they wanted. Even this did not succeed in stopping them, and they were only induced to discontinue their labors by the promise of more presents in the morning, coupled with the threat of nothing whatever in case they made any more noise that night. [Illustration: SHAM DEMONS READY FOR BUSINESS.] CHAPTER XX. DEPART FROM FOUEIRA.--INTERVIEW WITH KING RIONGA.--THE PLATEAU OF CENTRAL AFRICA.--EXPLORATIONS OF THE NIGER. Doctor Bronson decided that there was no occasion for a hasty departure from Foueira, but at the same time he allowed no delay in getting everything in readiness. Abdul was busy from morning till night, arranging the packages, organizing the gangs of porters, preparing the provisions, and doing a hundred other things that were necessary. He was greatly assisted by Frank and Fred, who acted under the general direction of Doctor Bronson. King Rionga came to visit Foueira the day after the Doctor's arrival, so that our friends had a chance to see the monarch with whom Baker Pacha became united in the bonds of African brotherhood. He was accompanied by a dozen or more of his high officials, and a miscellaneous following of attendants. The king wore a robe of native cloth, made from the bark of a tree, and beautifully embroidered, while his attendants were arrayed in the same material, but without any adornment. Each of them carried a spear, that of the king being a foot longer than the spears of his officers, and its head was made of gold instead of common iron. The king expressed his pleasure at meeting the "Ingleez," and invited them to call at his residence on their way to the south. [Illustration: VIEW ON THE ROAD.] On the sixth day everything was ready, and just a week after their arrival at Foueira Doctor Bronson and Fred, accompanied by Frank, whose stay had been longer than theirs, mounted their horses and set out for the place where they expected to see King Rionga. He had left his island, and was at a village about five hours' march from Foueira, on the road to M'rooli. The village was in a bend of the river a short distance below the end of the island where the king lived at the time of Baker's visit. The caravan of porters had been sent off early in the morning, with instructions to go into camp in the neighborhood of Rionga's village, but not too near it, for fear of quarrels with the king's people. Abdul selected the spot for the camp, with the assistance of one of Rionga's officers, so that there was a good understanding between them. The king ordered half a dozen huts constructed for the use of Doctor Bronson and the youths within a hundred yards of the royal residence, and sent a messenger out on the road to conduct the party to their temporary abode. Our friends made their toilets, and sent word to the king that they would call on him whenever it was his pleasure to give them a reception. The messenger returned with the announcement that Rionga was ready to receive them, and they at once proceeded to his "palace." [Illustration: THE KING'S RESIDENCE.] In the ordinary meaning of the word it was not much of a palace. It was a building of a single story in height, with a veranda in front, where the king enjoyed the air in the afternoon; and the roof was covered with a mass of turf and thatch, to exclude the heat. Abdul said it was not the regular residence of Rionga, and therefore was less extensive than they might have expected. Perhaps it was because the interior was not well furnished that his majesty did not invite them to enter, but motioned them to be seated on the veranda. Frank took mental note of the surroundings, and remarked that the king had a fondness for cows, as he had a cattle-yard close by, and a couple of feeding and drinking troughs for his favorite cows were in the space in front of the veranda. It was not the regular hour for receptions, and it had been intimated to the king that Doctor Bronson and his young friends were not in the service of the Egyptian government, and did not wish the ceremony to have an official character. Only two of the king's officers were present; but, from certain whisperings and bustling inside the building, it was evident that several persons were within hearing. Frank caught a glimpse of a female face peering through the door, and Fred thought he had a similar view a few moments later. Coffee was brought in little cups, in the same manner as in Egypt, and some ripe bananas and other fruits were served. The interview did not last long, as it was late in the afternoon. When our friends rose to depart the king asked them to come again on the following morning, when he would receive them, in the presence of his officers and family. When they returned to camp they found an ample supply of fruit, milk, and other things, which had been sent by the king's orders, together with several jars of "merissa," a fermented drink made from the juice of the banana. The Doctor said it was like a very poor quality of beer mixed with weak cider. None of the party cared for it, and as soon as the messengers who brought it had gone away the jars were handed over to the negro attendants, who emptied them very speedily. The fruits formed a very acceptable addition to the stock of provisions, and there was a great abundance of them, so that everybody about the camp had all he chose to eat. Abdul said that the fermented drink made from bananas was to be found among most of the tribes in Central Africa, especially with those who lived in villages and were not essentially pastoral in their habits. During the expedition of Baker in the country of Kabba Rega that treacherous king sent several jars of merissa one evening as a present for the soldiers. They drank freely of it, and in a little while it was reported that all the men had been poisoned. Baker went immediately to the huts of his soldiers, and found that those who had drank of the merissa were writhing with pain, and had all the symptoms of having taken a violent poison. There were at least thirty of them who were suffering; some were already insensible, and others scarcely able to breathe. Fortunately, Baker had a large supply of medicines on hand, and by prompt administration of them he saved the lives of every one of his followers. [Illustration: KABBA REGA'S ATTACK AND DEFEAT.] The next day the object of the king in poisoning the soldiers was apparent. His troops attacked the Egyptian camp, expecting that the greater part of his enemies would be dead, or at least unable to fight. It did not require a long time for them to find out their mistake, as the soldiers rallied, and not only drove back the assailants, but burned the town and the house where the king lived. They did not succeed in capturing the monarch, as he soon discovered how the affair was going and made good his escape. The next morning our friends went to repeat their call on the king, who received them in an open space in front of his house, as the dwelling was altogether too small for the entire party of his attendants and royal household. They found him standing in a group of about twenty of his officers, all armed with spears, according to the custom of the country, and in much the same dress as they wore at Foueira. The king's wives and children were present, but somewhat in the background. They showed great curiosity to have a look at the strangers, but did not venture beyond the bounds that had been set for them. There was much craning of necks, and many expressions of "Wah! wah!" which is said to indicate astonishment or admiration, like the "Oh!" of civilized lands. The boys wished to "astonish the natives" by bringing out the galvanic battery and treating some of the attendants of the court to a shock; but the Doctor said there was hardly sufficient time to do so; and besides, the instrument would not be entirely new to them. Colonel Long gives an account of the use of a magnetic battery at Rionga's court, to the great astonishment of the people, who believed the little instrument endowed with magical powers. He says that he knocked several of the natives down with the violence of the shocks, and the performance was received with shouts of wonder and superstitious awe. [Illustration: THATCHED HUT IN RIONGA's VILLAGE.] The Doctor had the forethought to bring along one of the musical-boxes, which he set in operation, to the delight of everybody, and especially of the women and boys who gathered around. The effect of the music was irresistible, and before a dozen notes had been sounded half the audience were capering around with wild delight. When the performance was over the box was given to Rionga, and Abdul explained how it should be wound and set in operation. The king was greatly pleased with the present, and the dignity of the court was relaxed to allow his officers to crowd around and look at it. Doctor Bronson said it was probable that within a week the instrument would be ruined beyond repair, as Rionga would be likely to endeavor to find out how it was made, and the result could hardly fail to be as injurious as the attempt of a child to ascertain the source of the sound in a squeaking doll. The interview with the king lasted a couple of hours, and then Doctor Bronson and his young companions made their farewells and started to leave. Just as they were doing so Ali came to the Doctor's side and whispered a few words, to the effect that some of the porters refused to move on, as they wished to remain another day at Rionga's village. It seemed that the king had sent a supply of merissa to the camp sufficient for the entire force of porters. Instead of being grateful for the donation they wanted more, and so had refused to start. They knew that as long as they remained there the king would be likely to provide the same quantity of merissa daily, out of respect for their masters, and of course the latter would be compelled to make indirect payment with presents. The Doctor had no idea of allowing his porters to control his movements in this fashion; and believing the shortest way was the best, he asked Rionga to tell the men to go on, and that they would not receive any more merissa. The desired order was given at once, and the porters obeyed. The incident delayed the departure of our friends for another half-hour, as it was necessary to make some presents in return for the favor shown by the king. A few beads and hatchets were sufficient, and then the music-box was again wound up and set going, to the renewed delight of the listeners. When it was reported that the caravan was under way and the camp entirely deserted, the ceremony of leave-taking was once more performed. Doctor Bronson intended to return on foot to his huts, where the horses were waiting, but the king asked that the animals should be led up and mounted in his presence. Horses are rarely seen in this part of the country. The king was familiar with them from having been often to Foueira, but he desired to treat his wives to the strange spectacle of Englishmen on horseback. The steeds were brought up, and held by their grooms till their riders were ready to mount. Doctor Bronson sprang lightly into the saddle, and at almost the same instant Frank and Fred did likewise. The "Wah! wah!" was loud and prolonged, and it was evident that the family of the king had witnessed something unusual. Frank's horse was unused to the presence of royalty, and began to dance, as though wishing to throw his young rider. The youth was not at all alarmed at the performance, and speedily brought the animal to terms, though not without some rearing and plunging that caused a repetition of the cries of amazement on the part of the beholders. [Illustration: THE COUNTRY BACK FROM THE RIVER.] On leaving the village the road turned away from the river, and did not again approach it during the day. The country was undulating, with occasional level plains, covered with heavy grass, and with belts of forest similar to that which lines the banks of the river. In the hilly regions there was little timber, the richest forests lying in the lower portions, and especially on the borders of streams. [Illustration: CROSSING A RIVER IN UNYORO.] A few of the streams flowing from the mountains were sufficiently large to make their passage a matter of difficulty. There were no boats to be had at most of the crossings, and the only alternative was to wade or be carried across on the shoulders of the porters. Where the water was shallow our friends remained in their saddles and rode over at their ease; but in some places the bottom was treacherous, and the travellers did not think it wise to risk a fall. In these localities the horses were led over, and each rider exchanged the saddle for a seat on the shoulders of a stalwart negro. They entered the country of Unyoro, or rather were some miles within its limits, before they were aware of it. There had been rumors of hostilities on the part of the Unyoro people before the party started up the river from Afuddo, but the last intelligence at Foueira showed that everything was quiet. Two or three villages were passed without halting. The natives manifested no unfriendliness; but, on the other hand, did not invite the strangers to stop and visit them. Near every village there was a yard, where the cattle were driven at night, the same as we have already seen among the Dinkas and other tribes along the Nile. They passed some of the herds of cattle grazing on the hill sides, and the boys observed that the herders in charge of the stock seemed of a different type from the rest of the natives, being much lighter in color. They asked Abdul what it meant; and he explained that the stock-keepers are of a peculiar caste, and descended from the Gallas, who long ago conquered the country. "They are called Bohooma," said Abdul, "and none but these people are allowed to attend the herds. The privilege descends from father to son; and if the herds are captured by neighboring tribes and carried off, the herders go with them, and remain in the same employment as before. They never carry weapons of any kind, or take part in battle, and nothing but death can separate them from their herds." As they proceeded south our friends found that the rains were more frequent, and water-proof garments were constantly needed. Doctor Bronson had made careful provision for this emergency, so that there was comparatively little suffering in consequence, save that the humidity of the climate induced fevers, which did not spare a single member of the party. The medical knowledge of the Doctor was of great use at this time, and as there was a plentiful supply of sulphate of quinine in the medicine-chest, and each of the travellers had a pocket-case constantly within reach, the suffering was reduced to a minimum. The boys endorsed the statement of previous travellers that rain and humidity are the chronic condition of Central Africa. They found the clouds a relief rather than otherwise, as the rays of the sun are excessively warm, especially in the middle of the day, when they become almost insupportable. The high elevation at which they were travelling made the nights very cold. An abundance of thick clothing prevented their suffering from the chilly nights, but their porters and attendants had no such protection, and were wretchedly miserable all the time the sun was below the horizon. [Illustration: EFFECT OF A LONG RAIN IN AFRICA.--ANIMALS SEEKING SAFETY.] While they were at dinner, on the second evening after leaving Foueira, the conversation naturally turned upon the peculiarities of the region they were traversing. "It is only within the present century," said the Doctor, "that we have definitely ascertained the geography of the interior of Africa. It was formerly supposed to be a mountainous region, sloping steadily away to the sea; and there was a tradition, as I have before told you, of the great rivers of Africa rising near each other and flowing in different directions, as the water is carried from the roof of a house. "The explorations of Livingstone, Burton, Speke, Du Chaillu, Cameron, Baker, and others have demonstrated that the centre of the continent is a vast plateau, or table-land, elevated from two thousand to four thousand feet above the level of the sea. There are mountains in the centre, and in various parts of this plateau, eight or ten thousand feet high, and there is a rocky rim or edge nearly all the way around it, with occasional openings, through which the rivers find their exit." Frank was pushing aside his tea-saucer, when the Doctor paused and told him to invert it on the table. "Now," he continued, "you have in that tea-saucer, bottom upward, a fairly good picture of the interior of Africa. Let the table where it is lying represent the ocean surrounding the continent. The rim on which it rests when right-side up is the mountainous ridge enclosing the central plateau, and the space in the centre is the plateau, or table-land. The slope from the ridge to the edge of the saucer is the strip of land around the coast. It varies greatly, as it is very narrow in some parts of the continent and quite broad in others. If you break a few notches at irregular intervals along the ridge you will indicate the depressions where the rivers pass from the equatorial basin to the great ocean." Frank was about to make the notches suggested by the Doctor, and thus complete the model of the "Dark Continent;" but he was checked by Fred, who suggested that they were a long way from their base of supplies, and tea-saucers could not be easily replaced. The practical illustration was consequently deferred indefinitely. "It is in the central basin," Doctor Bronson farther explained, "that we find the great lakes which form the sources of the Nile, the Livingstone, and the Zambesi." "How about the Niger?" Frank asked. "Does it come from the same basin, or does it have another origin?" "The source of the Niger," replied the Doctor, "is far to the north of the great basin where the three rivers I have named have their origin. Thus far no European has seen the source of the Niger; it has been most nearly reached by Winwood Reade, who visited the stream at a point where it was not more than a hundred yards in width, and probably forty or fifty miles from where it has its beginning. [Illustration: SUNSET ON LAKE TCHAD.] "The Niger was partially explored by the brothers Lander, Richard and John, in 1830 and 1831; they visited it again in 1832 and 1834, and endeavored to establish trade with the natives along the lower part of the river, and also on its tributary, the Benoowe. The latter stream is sometimes called the Chadda, or Tchadda, as it is supposed to rise in Lake Tchad; but whether it does so or not is not fully established. The Niger is properly formed by the junction of the Chadda and the Joliba, the latter being the more western, and pronounced by those who have seen it to be longer and larger than the Benoowe." One of the boys asked if any other Europeans than the Landers and Mr. Reade had explored the valley of the Niger. "Yes," was the reply; "in its lower course it has been examined by so many that the names would make a long list. Near the end of the last century it was visited by Mungo Park, who was the first explorer of the upper valley of the Niger, and he went there again in 1805. Unfortunately for science, he was killed in this second expedition, and his papers were lost with him. In 1828 a Frenchman named Chaillié sailed down the river from Jenne to Timbuctoo, and reached Europe in safety. His account supplied the deficiency left by the death of Park; and in 1853 Timbuctoo was visited by Dr. Barth, a German traveller, who explored the river from that city to the town of Say, which lies in latitude 13° 8' south, and longitude 2° 5' east. [Illustration: SCENE ON THE NIGER AT SAY.] "Barth has left the account of his travels in three large volumes, which were published in 1857, and described his wanderings from 1849 to 1855. He died in Berlin in 1865, and is justly regarded as one of the famous explorers of Africa. His account of Timbuctoo is the best that has reached us. He had a good opportunity to see the city, as he was detained there nearly a year by the Sultan, who refused to let him go on. "The aggregate length of his journeyings was some fourteen thousand miles, and the territory he opened to the knowledge of the civilized world may be roughly estimated at four million square miles. He explored Lake Tchad and a considerable portion of the valley of the Niger, settled several questions that were troubling the geographers, and made a large addition to the knowledge of the Great Desert of Sahara. "We are wandering from the equatorial basin of Central Africa," continued the Doctor; "but while on this subject we may as well have a peep at Timbuctoo. We must make it in imagination, as there is very little prospect that any of us will ever get there in person. The French are talking about a railway from the Mediterranean to Timbuctoo, and they also propose an inland sea by cutting a canal to flood the depression of the Sahara desert. Timbuctoo would be near the southern shore of the proposed sea; but thus far the scheme has ended in nothing but talk. When the railway is completed, or the lake is formed, we will think about seeing the city, if, happily, any of us are alive. "Timbuctoo had been heard of for centuries, but the first European to visit it was Major Laing, in 1826. Chaillié went there in 1828, and Barth in 1853; and, as I before told you, the latter has given us the best account we have had of the city. "Timbuctoo is smaller than you might suppose from its age and celebrity. It has a population of about twenty thousand, which is largely increased at the time of the season of trade, between November and January. The city is a collection of huts of wood or stone, and there are few buildings of more than one story in height. There are three great mosques and several smaller ones. The largest of the mosques rises in the shape of a pyramid, with a broad base from the south-western corner of the town. [Illustration: VIEW OF KABARA, THE PORT OF TIMBUCTOO.] "Dr. Barth was not permitted to go inside the mosque; but he probably did not miss much, as the native accounts of it represent the interior to be quite plain and without ornament. The town is about nine miles from the banks of the Niger. Its port is called Kabara, and is on a sandy hill, sloping down to the river. There is a broad basin for boats at Kabara, which Dr. Barth thought might be artificial, but was unable to ascertain whether it was so or not. "The trade of Timbuctoo is chiefly by caravans to Morocco, Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli. Ghadames, about three hundred miles south-west of Tripoli, is the most important outlet for the products of Timbuctoo, and the most southerly point to which travellers may venture without great risk. [Illustration: TIMBUCTOO, FROM THE TERRACE OF THE HOUSE OCCUPIED BY DR. BARTH.] "The population of Timbuctoo comprises several varieties of negroes and Arabs, the latter coming from the desert regions to the north. All are Moslems of the most fanatical kind, and for this reason the life of a Christian is not safe in the city if his religion is known. The few Europeans who have been there went in disguise, and Dr. Barth said his death would have been a certainty if it had been known that he was anything but a Moslem." Here Doctor Bronson was called from the tent by Abdul, who wanted advice about serving out provisions to the porters. Frank and Fred being left to themselves, the conversation took a lighter turn, though it did not leave the strange city they had been hearing about. "It has been said," Frank remarked, "that the word 'Timbuctoo' has no corresponding rhyme in our language." "Haven't you heard," said Fred, "the rhyme that somebody once made for it? Here it is: "'If I were a cassowary, On the sands of Timbuctoo, I'd eat a missionary-- Eat his bones and hymn-book too.'" "I think I can make another rhyme for it," responded Frank. "You remember the Buck brothers, that spent a summer in our town once, don't you?" "Yes," replied Fred, "I remember them well; one was short and stout, and the other tall and slim." "Exactly so. Now, how'll this do? "Just see how soon I write down A rhyme for Timbuctoo: We had at one time in our town Stout Buck and Slim Buck too." "Very good!" exclaimed his cousin. "But I can do as well as that without half trying. Wasn't President Buchanan sometimes called 'Old Buck,' by way of familiarity?" "I believe he was," Frank answered. "That being the case," said Fred, "he will do for a rhyme like this: "To James Buchanan came a letter From the King of Timbuctoo: That monarch said, 'I can't do better Than write Old Buck and Jim Buck too.'" "That will do," was the response; "and here's another to match it: "Sim and I went to the races, By the coach from Timbuctoo: When we went to book our places I said to him, 'Please, Sim, book two. '" Fred tried to compose something else on the subject, but the power of rhyming left him, and he gave up the attempt just as the Doctor returned from his conference with Abdul. CHAPTER XXI. TRAVELS OF DR ROHLFS.--THE TSETSE-FLY.--THROUGH UNYORO. "There's another brave explorer of the valley of the Niger," said Doctor Bronson as he resumed his seat after the conference with Abdul, "whom we should not omit from the roll of honor." "I know to whom you refer," said Frank. "Who is it?" Fred asked. "Dr. Gerhard Rohlfs," was the reply. "He is a German traveller, born near Bremen, in 1834, who graduated in medicine, and afterward entered the French army, and obtained the highest distinction open to a foreigner. His service was mostly in Algeria, where he learned the Arabic language, and in 1861 went to Morocco, where he assumed the character of a Moslem, and travelled a long distance in the Sahara desert." [Illustration: A VILLAGE ON THE GUINEA COAST.] "Quite right," said the Doctor, as Frank paused. "It was in that first exploration he was treacherously attacked and robbed by his guides in the desert, who left him for dead on the sands, with a broken arm. In 1864 he again travelled in Morocco, and a year later he started from Tripoli, in the disguise of an Arab, and went to Lagos, on the Gulf of Guinea, by way of Moorzook and other cities in that part of Africa. He passed Lake Tchad, and continued to the Niger, which he partially explored, together with the river Benoowe, which has already been mentioned. His name is familiar to many people in America, as he visited the United States in 1875, and lectured there on his travels. "He tells some interesting stories of his adventures," the Doctor continued, "while travelling in disguise. He had managed to make the Grand Shereef of Morocco his friend, and he secured letters that caused him to be received with distinguished honors in most of the towns and cities that he visited. As he spoke Arabic fluently, and knew all the Moslem prayers by heart, his religious faith was not often called in question. Occasionally, however, he was open to suspicion, and as he was among the most fanatical Moslems his life was in great danger. "At Tidikelt he was received very kindly by the prince to whom he had several letters of introduction. One day a Touareg sheik came to him and said, "'I am a prince of the Touaregs; I have been in Paris, and know the whole country of France, and I know the Sultan of the Christians. I know you, and have seen you; you are a Christian, and a Frenchman or an Englishman.' "Rohlfs assured the man that he was neither French nor English; but the latter was so certain about it that he went to the Prince of Tidikelt and stated his suspicions that Rohlfs was a French spy, who had come to see what the land contained. Fortunately, the prince did not believe him; and when Rohlfs spoke about the matter the prince replied that he was certain he would not have been able to get a letter of recommendation unless he had been a Moslem. He added, 'If a Christian should come into our land provided with letters from the Sultans of Stamboul and Morocco, I should at once hand him over to the people, for we don't want any Christians here.' "The answer was not at all encouraging, as it showed the great danger he was in. He would gladly have left at once, but could not do so, as the mere fact of his trying to escape would only strengthen the suspicion against him. So he put on a brave front, and by the practice of his medical skill and careful attendance to the religious ceremonies he managed, in the course of a month or so, to get on friendly terms with everybody once more. Then he continued his journey, and in due time reached the regions where Christians were safe. [Illustration: SCENE NEAR LAKE TCHAD.] "In his journey from the Mediterranean to the Gulf of Guinea Dr. Rohlfs had many narrow escapes, not only from the hostility of the natives, but from fevers and other diseases which have caused the death of so many explorers. In the neighborhood of Lake Tchad, during the period of the inundation of the flat country surrounding it, he was obliged to travel for several days where the water was five or six inches deep, and frequently he was forced to wade where it rose to his waist. He suffered much from fever caught in this region; and so unhealthy was the locality that several of his Arab companions died from the diseases contracted there. He was the first European to make the complete journey over the route he followed, and it was nearly two years from the time he started from Tunis till he arrived at the Gulf of Guinea. "After leaving the Niger he traversed a part of the kingdom of Dahomey, but did not visit its capital. Do you know for what Dahomey is famous?" "Yes," replied Fred; "at least, I know one thing which travellers have mentioned--it has an army of women instead of men." [Illustration: AN AMAZON OF DAHOMEY.] "Not exactly an army of women instead of men," said Doctor Bronson, "but an army of both. The Amazons, as the feminine warriors are generally termed, are in a separate division; and, according to Captain Burton, who has visited the country, they take precedence and insist that they shall be called men. They have officers of the same rank as the other portion of the army, and these officers are always of their own sex. There are about three thousand of these Amazons, and they are armed, as far as possible, with the same weapons as the men. They are said to be the bravest portion of the army, and are the great reliance of the king whenever a fortified place is to be attacked." One of the boys asked how they were recruited. "As to that," was the reply, "the whole population is liable to military duty, and the king can call to arms every person in his dominions who is able to enter the military ranks. Before a girl can be married she is taken before the king, and if he likes her looks she is at once enlisted for a soldier, and that is the end of the proposed match. The Amazons are not allowed to marry, and any man who asks one of them to do so is in danger of losing his head. Most of them are so old and ugly that they are not in danger of any one falling in love with them. Captain Burton says they are generally larger than the men, more capable of enduring fatigue, and, as far as his observation went, they make better soldiers. "There is a good deal of romance about the kingdom of Dahomey," the Doctor continued. "It is a country with less than half a million inhabitants, few manufactures, little commerce, and under the rule of a treacherous and tyrannical king. Human sacrifices were formerly very frequent, but within the last twenty years they have been mostly suppressed, through the influence of the British, who invaded the country in consequence of an insult to their consul at Lagos. The country abounds in wild beasts of nearly all the kinds known in Africa, and it is said that the boa-constrictor in Dahomey grows to an enormous size. We are not likely to visit the country, and so it will not make much difference to us whether they are large or not." The conversation was again interrupted by Abdul, who came to say that he thought one of the horses was suffering from the bite of the tsetse-fly, and was afraid they might lose it. "I have been fearing for some time," said the Doctor, "that as soon as we entered the region of the tsetse-fly we should lose the horses. We are not fairly in its range at present, and I hope the report that the horse has been bitten by one of these pests is incorrect." The incident naturally changed the topic of discussion. Doctor Bronson gave a brief account of one of the dreads of all African travellers. It will be found more fully described in the first volume of Dr. Livingstone's travels. [Illustration: 1, THE TSETSE. 2, THE SAME, MAGNIFIED. 3, ITS PROBOSCIS.] "The tsetse-fly," said the Doctor, "is scientifically known as _Glossina morsitans_; it is about the size of the common house-fly, and is of a brownish color. It is very quick in its movements, and will evade the most dexterous attempts to capture it with the hand except in cool mornings or evenings, when it is less agile than at other times. Its bite causes the death of the ox, the horse, and the dog. A remarkable feature about it is that, while it is fatal to oxen and cows, it is perfectly harmless to calves until after they are weaned." "How is it that men can travel where this fly abounds, if its bite is so deadly?" one of the boys asked. "Because," was the reply, "its bite is no more injurious to man than is that of a mosquito. It causes a slight itching, just as does the sting of a mosquito, and that is all. "The horse is the most ready victim of the tsetse-fly. It comes in swarms sometimes, and lights on the back of a horse by hundreds. There is no known remedy for its bite, and in less than a week the animal will die. "The sting is not a sensible one to the horse or ox, and very often an animal may be bitten without being aware of it. In a few days there are symptoms of a cold; the eyes and nose throw off quantities of mucus, swellings appear under the jaws and elsewhere, the poor beast begins to grow thin, as if starving, and finally dies of exhaustion. "The period for the disease to perform its work varies from one week to eight or ten weeks, and sometimes longer. It is a singular circumstance that, while oxen, dogs, and horses are killed by it, the donkey and mule escape altogether. Sheep perish from the bite of the tsetse, while the goat is unharmed; and it does not seem at all injurious to any of the wild animals of Africa. In the valley of the Zambesi there are whole districts where the natives can keep no domestic animals except goats; and it sometimes happens that, while one bank of a river is infested by the deadly fly, the other will be wholly free from it, and cattle may graze there in safety. "When the natives are about to pass with their cattle through a tsetse region they endeavor to do so on a cold night, when the fly is quiet; and they take the precaution of smearing their animals with a paste made from ashes and other substances, so that the tsetse cannot bite through it. Inoculation does no good; and, until some remedy is discovered, many portions of Africa will be uninhabitable to those who desire to keep oxen and horses." It turned out that the bite on the horse was not that of the dreaded tsetse, and so the animals were safe for the present at least. It was getting late, and the conference came to an end with the dissertation on the deadly flies of Africa. The Doctor closed by saying that there was an insect in the western part of Africa whose bite has somewhat the same effect on man as the tsetse on the ox, though not likely to be as fatal. "It is called the tampan," said he, "and bites between the fingers or toes in preference to other places. It varies from the size of a pin's head to that of a small pea, and abounds in the native huts. Natives do not suffer much inconvenience from its bite, but with Europeans there follows a swelling and itching of the wound; then come fever and some of the symptoms of cholera, and the fever occasionally results in the death of the victim. Happily, this insect does not abound in many parts of the country." It rained most of the time during the night, and the next morning the ground was so wet that the caravan did not get under way till a late hour. In the afternoon they passed close to M'rooli, a large village of Unyoro, situated where the river widens into the appearance of a small lake. A few hours later they crossed the Kafou River, where the water was up to the saddle-girths of the horses, and required the porters to use a good deal of caution in wading over it. Doctor Bronson said it was from this point of the main route that Baker turned aside along the banks of the Kafou when he went to discover the Albert N'yanza. "Colonel Long describes a battle which he had in front of M'rooli," the Doctor remarked while they were resting by the side of the path; "and it must have been where we see the river widening out that the fight took place. "He was the first white man to descend the river from the Victoria N'yanza, and he did so in spite of the opposition of the natives. He discovered a lake, since called Lake Ibrahim, between here and the Victoria N'yanza, and as he approached M'rooli he saw a great number of canoes, full of natives armed with spears. They were stretched in a double line across the stream in such a way as to prevent its passage except by fighting, and their number was so large as to make the chance of victory very small for him and his few men. [Illustration: COLONEL LONG'S BATTLE AT M'ROOLI.] "There were five hundred natives against Long and his two soldiers; the natives were armed with spears and bows and arrows, while the others had breech-loading rifles of the best systems. They laid their cartridges ready, so as to fire as fast as possible, and Long ordered his two boats to be lashed together, and the Egyptian flag hoisted at the stern of the one occupied by himself; then he advanced. The negroes called out for him to stop, and when he refused to do so the battle began. "The power of the white man's weapons over those of the savage was never more clearly shown than in this light. Long used a rifle carrying explosive shells, which shattered the sides of the boats, throwing the men into the water, and completely putting an end to their thoughts of fighting in the effort to save their lives. [Illustration: COLONEL LONG'S COMPANIONS AT M'ROOLI.] "In little more than an hour the battle was over. Four hundred and fifty cartridges had been expended by Long and his two soldiers, and the river was practically clear of their enemies, as most of the boats had been sunk, and the remainder returned to the shore. A large crowd gathered on the land and pursued along the banks; but they could do no harm, as the river was wide enough to enable the strangers to keep out of reach of the weapons of their enemies. "The report of this battle was received at Cairo before Colonel Long arrived there. The Khedive sent him a letter of congratulation for his skill and bravery, and promoted him to a high office in the Egyptian service. The two soldiers received the decoration of the Order of the Medjidieh and the rank of sergeant-major in the army." [Illustration: A GROUP OF KIDI MEN.] Soon after moving on from the point where Long's adventures at M'rooli were narrated the party met a group of men in a style of dress which was new to the boys. The principal garments, and by far the most valuable part of the wardrobe, consisted of rings made of brass wire. These rings were around the arms of the wearers in three places--at the wrist, elbow, and shoulder--and also around the neck, which was enclosed so stiffly as to remind the Doctor of the stocks formerly worn as a fashionable adornment in England and America, and not yet altogether out of use. The men carried spears and shields, and some of them had their ears decorated with enormous rings of brass. Frank recognized them as Kidi men, from the description in Speke's book, and the illustration accompanying it. Kidi is on the other side of the Nile, and these men come over the river to pay tribute to the King of Unyoro, who has a sort of nominal control over them. Kidi is said to be an excellent hunting-ground, especially for large game, and the boys regretted that there was no time to visit it. Abdul said the natives hunted elephants in a way not common in other parts of Africa. At Fred's request he described the process. They have a spear with a long blade, sharp on both sides, and fastened to a short handle of iron, in the shape of a pear, so as to make it very heavy. Armed with these spears, men climb into trees where the herd can be made to pass, and when all is ready other men go out to drive the animals in the desired direction. As the elephants pass beneath the trees the heavy spears are dropped upon them. The hippopotamus is sometimes killed in the same way, but more frequently by the trap already described. [Illustration: A SUBSTITUTE FOR THE HORSE.] The road lay through a swampy region, and the rains caused many of the holes to be filled with water, so that the travelling was none of the best. In many places it was not safe to remain on the horses, and a good part of the way was made on foot by the Doctor and his young companions. Doctor Bronson said that if this kind of road continued it would be necessary to walk altogether, or be carried on litters, after the custom of Africa. The horses began to show signs of fatigue, and indicated very plainly that the climate of Central Africa was not suited to their constitution. Their temper was not at all improved, though perhaps this was due quite as much to their treatment by their grooms as to the climate of the country. Frank said his horse never omitted an opportunity to kick at him, and it was preferable to approach the animal at the head rather than at the heels. The Doctor said it would be something never before accomplished to take a horse all the way across Africa, and if they succeeded in getting their steeds beyond the southern end of the Victoria N'yanza they would have done something to be proud of. They had many speculations as to the possibility of escaping the tsetse, which had already given them an alarm, though happily a false one. Fred proposed to envelop his horse in a garment of antelope-skin, or something equally impervious to the sting of the fly. The Doctor suggested that he would have a hard time to make the horse understand the use of this new covering, and if he was compelled to wear it constantly the health of the beast would be endangered almost as much as by the fly. On the whole, they concluded not to borrow too much trouble about the future, but to take as good care as possible of the animals that carried them and hope for the best. Both boys gave strict orders to their grooms and other servants to keep a sharp watch for the tsetse, and report the first indication of its presence. It was agreed that when there was reason to believe it was among them the native precautions should be adopted, and if any new measures could be devised they would be tried on the first occasion. [Illustration: APPROACHING CAMP.] CHAPTER XXII. THE MARCH THROUGH UGUNDA.--ARRIVAL AT KING M'TESA'S PALACE. The rest of the march through Unyoro was without incident of consequence, as the people were neither hostile nor familiar. The caravan avoided the villages, as the natives were sure to make exorbitant demands for the privilege of passing through their land, and if their requests were not heeded they would endeavor to "get even" by begging. All travellers in Unyoro have found the people persistent in begging. They take the example from their chiefs, and consequently their practice is not to be wondered at. Speke was plundered in this way of nearly all the property in his possession while passing through Unyoro, and he had barely enough left to take him to a station where he could find relief. Everything that the chiefs saw they wanted; and if the stranger was not prompt to display all his wares they lost no time in asking for them. From Unyoro the party entered Ugunda, the country of King M'tesa, who is considered by Stanley and Long the most progressive ruler in Central Africa. Formerly a pagan, and indulging in the most horrid practices in the way of sacrifices, he became a Moslem, and was subsequently converted to Christianity by Mr. Stanley. We have already mentioned this conversion and the doubts as to its earnestness. Of late years two English missionaries have been residing near the court of M'tesa, and they report that he received their teachings kindly, and told them he should be glad if his people could be induced to give up idolatry. [Illustration: A QUEEN OF UGUNDA DRAGGED TO EXECUTION.] At the time of Speke's visit the king was quite ignorant of Christianity, and followed the idolatrous practices of his ancestors. He caused his attendants to be put to death on the slightest pretext, and sometimes on no pretext whatever. The fancy seized the king to order some one to be executed, and the order was obeyed. Speke said hardly a day passed that he did not see one of the queens led to execution by order of the king, and no one dared say a word in remonstrance. A cord was tied around her wrist, and she was dragged away by one of the court attendants, who did his duty zealously, not knowing when his own turn would come. Sometimes there were several of these executions in a single day, and it seems a wonder that there should have been any population left in the country. Speke tried to persuade the king to consider the doctrines of Christianity, but without success. He had better fortune with Kamrasi, then King of Unyoro, though not much. The king wanted to look at the Bible, and accordingly Speke and Grant went to an audience with him, and carried a copy of the sacred book. [Illustration: KAMRASI'S FIRST LESSON IN THE BIBLE.] Speke endeavored to show the origin of the people in that part of Africa, and their identity with the Ethiopians of Scripture. He began with Adam in the Garden of Eden. Then he described the Flood, and how the descendants of Ham were black, and undoubtedly the parents of the Africans. When he had finished his account the king took the book and began to count the leaves. He had an idea that each leaf represented a year since the Creation, and he thought that if he counted the leaves he might ascertain the age of the world. When he was about a quarter through he was told if that was what he desired he must count the words, and then he abandoned the task and closed the book. This was the extent of Speke's lesson in the Bible to a pagan king. Kamrasi had already robbed him of a good part of his property; and as the robberies and extortions continued without any abatement, it is evident that the teaching of the doctrines of Christianity had no material effect. Before leaving Foueira, Doctor Bronson sent a messenger to M'tesa to announce his coming and to ask permission to visit the capital. It was agreed that the messenger should return with the king's answer, and wait at the frontier for the arrival of the Doctor's party. When they reached the frontier the messenger had not returned, and the Doctor was in some doubt as to the best course to pursue. He did not like to wait there, and thus lose valuable time; and, on the other hand, he feared it would be discourteous to advance without authority into the dominions of a man who might consider himself insulted, and had it in his power to stop the march altogether. He finally determined to move on, but to send another messenger, who would intercept the first and make him hasten back to meet the travellers. In case they should have no word by the time they were within two days' march of the king's residence, they would then stop until the royal mandate had been secured. Happily they were not delayed, as they met the messenger before reaching the point where it had been determined to halt. The permission to go to the king's residence had been granted, and the messenger brought a document in Arabic to that effect. With that indifference to time for which the Africans are noted, his majesty had taken several days to act upon a matter that could have been disposed of in a few minutes. The country was much like that over which they travelled from Foueira to the frontier of Unyoro--grassy plains, alternating with stretches of forests, and occasional swamps that rendered locomotion difficult. There was an abundance of game, and if our friends had been inclined to the chase they might have bagged a goodly number of elephants, with no end of deer and smaller animals. Doctor Bronson thought it would not be judicious to delay their advance in order to hunt the elephant, which they were not in pursuit of for ivory; and, furthermore, it might not be satisfactory to the king to have his game killed without permission. But he had no hesitation concerning the antelopes and other edible beasts, and for the greater part of the time the larder was well supplied with venison, so that the preserved meats and vegetables were rarely touched. There was hardly a day without rain; it began usually about an hour before sunset, and frequently fell with great fury till ten or eleven at night. Then the clouds cleared away, the sun rose bright in the morning, and by waiting a couple of hours our friends found the roads endurable. But in spite of the heat of the sun the water collected in the hollows, and there was altogether more wading and floundering through the mud than was to the taste of any member of the party. [Illustration: MOUNTAINS IN THE DISTANCE.] As they approached the capital of Ugunda the boys observed that there was a great deal of red clay in the soil, and whenever it was wet with the rain it showed an adhesiveness equal to the best qualities of glue. The king had ordered the roads swept for their advance, but the sweeping was more figurative than real; the path was cleared of fallen trees or other obstructions, but the absence of brooms was more conspicuous than their presence. In some places the path ascended hills two or three hundred feet high, but for the most part it was along the lowlands, since the natives are not at all fond of climbing when they can avoid it. [Illustration: VILLAGES IN THE HILLY COUNTRY.] The agricultural tendencies of the inhabitants were shown by the abundance of banana groves, some of them covering hundreds of acres, and producing enormous quantities of the well-known fruit. The banana is almost the sole resource of the people. They eat it raw or steamed--generally in the latter form, unless it is thoroughly ripe; they dry and pound it into a sort of coarse flour, for making bread, puddings, and soup; they press out the juice for making pombé, or banana-cider, as already described; and they boil the young shoots and eat them, as we eat spinach or cabbage. The land which yields a ton of potatoes will yield forty-four tons of bananas, and the surface necessary for supporting one man when planted with wheat will support twenty-five men when planted with bananas. What wonder is it that a population which can grow the banana is not inclined to industry? Nearly every night the camp was made in or near a banana grove, and for a few beads or other commodities the party was allowed to gather all it wanted for its use. Sometimes the owner of a grove would see a chance to make something out of the transaction, and demand an exorbitant price; but he was generally brought to terms by a reference to the king, coupled with a judicious hint that the strangers were on their way to visit M'tesa. One frightened native offered the products of his garden for nothing, and was quite unwilling to accept payment for what was taken. The last camp was made about ten miles from the royal residence, and just after the tents had been spread a messenger came from the "kahotah," or minister of state, to announce that his majesty had ordered a zeriba, or enclosure of huts, to be prepared for the visitors, and it would take at least a day to perform the work. The kahotah came shortly after the messenger, and went into camp about two hundred yards away. He declined to see Doctor Bronson or either of the youths, as they must first be presented to the king, but he sent an interpreter to find out all he could concerning them. The real object of the delay was to ascertain exactly who and what the strangers were, so that the proper ceremonies could be observed for their reception. The kahotah told the interpreter that he would gladly meet the strangers, but the etiquette of the country prevented, and there is nothing for which the Africans are greater sticklers than this matter of etiquette. Royal courts are pretty nearly alike all over the world. The kahotah brought some presents from the king to Doctor Bronson: part of them he delivered through his interpreter; but, after the custom of his country, he kept the greater portion himself. Abdul said the kahotah was a very important personage with the king, as he not only filled the office of minister of state, but also that of cook. All the dishes eaten by his majesty were prepared by the kahotah's own hands, so as to reduce the chance of poisoning; and as the kahotah was required to eat of every dish in the presence of his majesty before the latter touched it, he was pretty sure that no strychnine or other injurious substance had a place in it. The delay of a day was utilized by a general brushing up of clothing and brightening of brass adornments, in order to make the entry into the capital of Ugunda as imposing as possible. Abdul went to see the kahotah and arrange the details of the procession to do honor to all concerned. It was decided that the camp would be moved to a point within a mile of the capital, and there located for the night. At nine in the morning a column would be formed, consisting of the body-guard of the king, or, rather, a delegation from it; then a detachment of the royal troops, armed with muskets and lances; then the flags of Ugunda, Egypt, and the United States would be carried side by side, and followed by Doctor Bronson and the two youths; then would come the escort of the strangers, and the porters, with the presents for the king. The remainder of the Doctor's porters would remain in camp till the ceremony was concluded, when they would follow the Doctor to the zeriba which had been prepared for him. Fortunately for everybody, there was no rain on the evening preceding the entry; and though the sun rose bright and clear, it was not quite as warm as usual. The road this time had really been swept, and, as it was fully twenty feet wide, it was better entitled to the appellation of road than anything our friends had yet seen in Central Africa. The king's troops were preceded by what was supposed to be a band of music. It kept up a steady din of horns and drums, without the least attempt at melody, and the instrumental part of the performance was aided by imitations of the crowing of cocks and the cries of various birds and animals. [Illustration: FLAG OF UGUNDA.] The flag of Ugunda proved to be of white and red, there being three times as much of the latter as of the former; and it was ornamented at the end with tassels of monkey-skin, cut from those parts where the hair was longest. This was probably the first occasion of the American flag being carried with that of Ugunda, and the boys were naturally proud of the event. The horses attracted more attention than did their riders, for the simple reason that they were far more interesting as curiosities. White men were not uncommon in Ugunda, especially since the residence there of two English missionaries, but horses were rarely seen. Colonel Long was the first to ride a horse into Ugunda; and probably, up to the date of Doctor Bronson's visit, not more than half a dozen in all had escaped the dreaded tsetse and reached the region of the Victoria N'yanza. Many of the people had never seen a horse, and some of them believed that horse and man were one, and expressed great astonishment when the riders dismounted. [Illustration: LONG'S FIRST VISIT TO M'TESA.] When Colonel Long visited Ugunda and approached the palace, the king sent a messenger to ask that he would ride to the gate, in order that his majesty might see the animal on which he was mounted. The colonel gathered his reins and dashed down the slope of a hill to where the king was standing with his harem, who fled in terror at the apparition. The horse slipped and stumbled in a depression of the road, but quickly recovered; the colonel rode by at full speed and returned to the hill, amid the shouts of the assembled crowd. When he dismounted there was a rush of frightened men, as they had supposed till then that he was a Centaur. Since that event the king and his people have been enlightened to some extent, but horses are still regarded with veneration, and are more strange in the eyes of the people than the elephant is in ours. On the arrival of our friends the king was in front of his palace, which stands on the top of a gently sloping hill, commanding a fine view of the country for a considerable distance. At the foot of the slope a messenger requested the party to halt till the royal group had taken its position. The delay enabled the crowd to have a good look at the strangers, and it is fair to suppose that Frank and Fred returned the inspection with interest. The boys were favorably impressed with the intelligent appearance of the faces around them; they said they could readily understand why Ugunda was the most advanced of the Central African countries, and had been the first to welcome the missionary and his work. A messenger came from the king to request the party to advance, and, amid the renewed din of horns and drums, it moved on once more. About fifty yards from where the king stood it halted, and then the Doctor and the boys dismounted, and left their horses in charge of the grooms. Under the guidance of the court interpreter they walked forward; their names were shouted in loud tones; they advanced to the king and bowed; the king inclined his head very slightly, in recognition of their obeisance, and the ceremony was over. The formal presentation was to take place the next day, in the king's palace, and in the mean time the strangers were to be allowed to rest. The presents intended for the king were deposited in the zeriba prepared for the Doctor, to which the entire party was immediately conducted by the kahotah, who now showed himself for the first time. [Illustration: UGUNDA BOY.] Several attendants were sent by the king to wait upon the Doctor and his young friends. Abdul said the best use to be made of them was to lodge them in one of the huts, and require as little service as possible from them. Their real office was to see and report upon everything that the strangers had and did, and particularly to tell what they possessed which could be of use to the king. Consequently, whatever the Doctor had which he did not wish to be called on to present to his majesty was kept carefully out of sight; and though the attendants repeatedly intimated that they would like to examine the contents of certain boxes and bales, they were not accommodated. The zeriba prepared for the Doctor was on the side of a hill fronting the one on which the palace stood. It was the same which was occupied by Stanley, Long, and others, and is supposed to be in readiness at any time for the reception of distinguished visitors. There were a dozen or more huts inside a palisade: one, larger than the rest, was the special residence of the Doctor, and two others close by had been hastily thrown together for the boys. The other huts were for the dragoman, servants, and escort; and the attendants, who had been sent to keep watch, were instructed to order more huts erected if necessary. The construction of a house in Central Africa is an affair of only an hour or two, and the number could be multiplied indefinitely till all the space was occupied. [Illustration: VIEW OF M'TESA'S PALACE FROM DOCTOR BRONSON'S ZERIBA.] Frank busied himself in the afternoon in making a sketch of the scene from the front of their encampment. The picture included the slope of the hill, covered with conical huts, and divided into little gardens. A broad road led up the hill and around to the summit, and in order to reach the entrance of the palace it was necessary to follow this bend of the road. A few trees were scattered along the sides of the hill, but the vegetation was not abundant. Abdul explained that the most of the wood had been cut away for fuel, and the king was not inclined to have many trees around his residence, as they would give shelter to an enemy in case of hostilities. Wood was a scarce article in the capital of Ugunda, and Doctor Bronson soon found it necessary to ask the king for a detail of men to supply them with fuel. In spite of the position of the place (less than thirty miles from the equator), the nights were cool, in consequence of the great elevation above the level of the sea. The instruments were set up, and the latitude and longitude of Rubaga, the name of M'tesa's capital, was obtained by the Doctor as follows: Lat., 0° 21' 19" north; long., 32° 44' 30" east; elevation by barometer, not far from forty-five hundred feet. Atmosphere humid, and climate unhealthy for Europeans. Frank found his sketch was a work of difficulty, as the natives crowded around and watched each stroke of the pencil with feverish anxiety, and with many expressions of wonder. Two of the attendants, armed with spears, were in front of the hut where he was occupied with his drawing; they kept up an incessant chatter in a language he could not understand, but their frequent glances in his direction showed that he was the subject of conversation. When he had finished one of them examined the sketch with great care, and immediately started for the palace, with the intention, no doubt, of informing his royal master what the young man had been doing. The natives displayed a great deal of curiosity: they not only examined all inanimate things belonging to the party, but pulled at their clothing, took their caps from their heads, and were never weary of pulling at their hair, as if wishing to ascertain what made it so free from kinks. It was frequently necessary to repress their eagerness; but everything was done with such good-nature that it was difficult to get angry with them. Frank suggested that they shut the gates of their zeriba and admit nobody unless he had business inside; but the Doctor said it would be best not to do so. There would be a better chance of studying the people if they could come and go as they liked, and, besides, it would make a more favorable impression on the king, who would certainly be informed of all that occurred. [Illustration: A WARRIOR OF UGUNDA.] While Frank made his sketch of the hill of Rubaga, Fred induced one of the warriors to stand for his portrait, which the youth put upon paper, the man remaining motionless as a statue for at least half an hour. Under the drawing he wrote the following notes: "He is a handsome, well-formed negro, not an inch less than six feet in height, and with a head that resembles John M'Cullough dressed for Othello. His left arm is quite bare, and supports the triangular shield which is a part of his military equipment. It is a light frame, covered with dried hide and decorated with pieces of monkey-skin, to which the hair still clings. Knotted and fastened over his right shoulder he has two garments like cloaks; one is made of bark-cloth of a yellowish color, and the other of the skins of very young antelopes, sewn together as skilfully as the best operator of New York or London could perform the work. His ankles are encircled with rings of brass wire, his hair is closely cut, with a parting on one side, and his feet are without shoes. He has two spears over his right shoulder, as his official position requires him to be armed in this way. The customary weapon of the Wagunda, as the people of the country are called, is a single spear; and a person of any rank whatever would injure his reputation if he went abroad without it." The king sent presents of bananas, rice, fruit, and jars of pombé, together with a large jar of milk, as he knew from experience that the foreigners were fond of that article. He sent a high official to ask if anything else was wanted. Doctor Bronson thanked the officer, both in words and with a present, and told him their needs were all supplied. The officer hid the Doctor's present under his cloak and went away, but soon returned with the announcement that the king would hold court the following morning and receive the strangers. As they were already informed of this arrangement, the Doctor suspected that it was a device to extort another present, and therefore paid no farther attention to it. [Illustration: VIEW Of RUBAGA FROM THE GREAT ROAD.] CHAPTER XXIII. CEREMONIES AT M'TESA'S COURT.--THE TELEPHONE IN AFRICA. The ceremonies at court on the following day proved to be of a most interesting character, and were thus described by Frank in his journal: "We were ready at the appointed time, each of us wearing a suit of spotless white. We were accompanied by Abdul and three servants, the latter carrying our chairs. The officer who came to escort us said the king was engaged in hearing the reports of his ministers, and would be pleased to receive us. Of course we took that as a hint to move, and were off at once. "The audience-chamber may be described as an exaggerated hut of the Ugunda pattern, with a broad opening at one side. It has a double roof over the entrance, the outer one projecting like the eaves of a house, and supported by posts, that somewhat impede the view, though not to any great extent. Both roofs are covered with thatch, and a fire would make sad havoc in a short time. "Places had been reserved for us on both sides of the oblong block which served as a royal seat. Doctor Bronson and myself were motioned to sit on the right of his majesty, while Fred and Abdul were placed to the left. They were a little farther back than we, so that the side of the door-way hid a good deal of the outside spectacle from their sight. The Doctor, Fred, and I were seated on our camp-chairs, while Abdul remained standing by Fred's side, and close to where the courtiers and cup-bearers came when they had anything to offer to the king. [Illustration: A RECEPTION AT THE COURT OF KING M'TESA.] "M'tesa sat on a block of wood that resembled a large door-step, and was covered with skins of several wild animals, that of a leopard being uppermost and in the centre. His feet just touched the matting which lay upon the ground in front of him, and he sat for the most of the time as motionless as though being photographed, and with his hands folded on his lap. A little distance from him were several attendants squatted on the mat and waiting for his orders. "On the ground outside, and seated in the same way as the slaves, was a semicircular group of courtiers, perhaps a hundred in all. At the left of the king, and just outside the door of the audience-room, were three or four men, wearing red caps, like the Turkish fez. They were ferocious-looking fellows, and each had a small cord twisted round his cap, which told plainly what their duties were. "I looked at them carefully out of the corner of one eye as they kept their gaze rigidly on the face of M'tesa. What do you suppose they were? "These ferocious men were the court executioners, and down to the time of Stanley's visit, in 1876, their duty was to strangle such persons as were designated by their royal master. These victims were taken from the group of courtiers or by-standers, and every man who went to the ceremonies at M'tesa's court was liable to be offered up as a sacrifice at the end of the performance. Sometimes ten victims, sometimes five, and sometimes as many as thirty, were strangled in a single morning by the king's order, as an offering to the gods who presided over the destinies of the kingdom of Ugunda. "All is changed now since M'tesa has embraced Christianity, thanks to the labors of Stanley. The executioners have little to do in their former profession, and their service now is in the less ferocious work of serving as messengers or pages. Occasionally a criminal is put to death by royal command, but the custom of sacrifices has been abandoned, and probably forever. "Speke found M'tesa a savage, with all the horrid rites of paganism in full sway. Stanley found him a Moslem, wearing the Arab dress, and requiring his court-officers to do likewise, but still retaining some of his pagan customs. We find him a Christian, and with Christian missionaries at work in his dominions. He has abandoned much of his former haughtiness and acquired the manners of Europe far more than we had reason to expect. His courtiers are no longer in the habit of rubbing their necks when they wake in the morning, to ascertain if their heads are still on their shoulders. "Formerly it was the custom for everybody who approached the king to lie prostrate on the ground and wriggle up to his place, taking care not to expose the soles of the feet either in advancing or retiring. To do this was to offer great indignity to his majesty, and many a man has lost his head in punishment for not being handy with his foot. "The prostration is no longer required. The courtiers advance, with the head bowed slightly, very much as they might approach a sovereign in Europe, and they deliver what they have to say without any sign of cringing. The courtiers squat or sit on the ground as they used to, and they continue to be particular about the soles of their feet. You cannot expect a complete change in manners in a single decade. [Illustration: A TREE OF UGUNDA.] "When the king had finished the ordinary business of the court he turned to his minister of state and asked about the strangers. The minister explained, what the king probably had learned already, that the strangers had come from a far country to look upon the ruler of the kingdom of Ugunda. They had brought presents of great value for this mighty king, and it gave them great pleasure to be present at his court. "Then the king turned toward us, but continued to address the minister, saying he was glad to welcome the strangers, and hoped they would enjoy their stay in his dominions. "Abdul translated the king's words, and thanked his majesty on behalf of Doctor Bronson and his two companions--rather, I should say, he thanked the kahotah who delivered the speech to the king. The latter then gave the signal, the drums sounded, and the ceremonies were over. The courtiers rose from their sitting postures and backed away from the enclosure in front of the hall, and only the guards and a few of the high officials remained. "As soon as the place was cleared the king rose and stepped down from his throne. We immediately rose from our seats and waited his pleasure. "He gave a slight nod to his prime-minister; the latter advanced, and introduced us, very much as we might be introduced to a private gentleman in his residence. We bowed as he did so. The king took Doctor Bronson's hand for an instant, and just glanced at Fred and myself, as we were probably too young for him to give us any serious attention. "I can't do better, nor even as well, in the way of a personal description, than Stanley has done in his book, 'The Dark Continent.' Therefore I will quote from page 195 of the first volume: "'_April_ 7, 1876.--In person M'tesa is tall, probably six feet one inch, and slender. He has very intelligent and agreeable features, reminding me of some of the faces of the great stone images at Thebes, and of the statues in the museum at Cairo. He has the same fulness of lips, but their grossness is relieved by the general expression of amiability, blended with dignity, that pervades his face, and the large, lustrous, lambent eyes that lend it a strange beauty, and are typical of the race from which I believe him to have sprung. His color is of a dark-red brown, of a wonderfully smooth surface. When not engaged in council, he throws off unreservedly the bearing that characterizes him when on the throne and gives rein to his humor, indulging in hearty peals of laughter. He seems to be interested in the discussion of the manners and customs of European courts, and to be enamored of hearing of the wonders of civilization. He is ambitious to imitate as much as lies in his power the ways of the white man. When any piece of information is given him he takes upon himself the task of translating it to his wives and chiefs.' [Illustration: A DAUGHTER OF KING M'TESA.] "The above description will answer perfectly for to-day. Stanley saw much more of the king than we have seen, not only in an official but in a social way, and he makes a pleasing picture of the court of Ugunda at the time of his visit. "Stanley says the king could not sound the letter 'n' distinctly, and consequently made the explorer's name into 'Stamlee.' Though pronouncing the name of his guest repeatedly, he could never hit the proper sound. But if the king has trouble with foreign words, he may console himself with the thought that the foreigners have equal difficulty with the language of Ugunda. It is full of consonant sounds, and its vowels are few. The name of the king requires two consonants to be sounded together, and it is no slight task for the European tongue to get through "M'Tesa" without danger of choking. As far as we can observe, there are many words in the language which present the same difficulties, and Fred says anybody who comes to Ugunda to stay ought to bring some iron clasps to hold his jaws in place while talking. "When the king stepped from his throne he dropped his own language and spoke in Arabic, and we saw at once there was no farther need of an interpreter. In a few polite phrases he said he was glad we had come to Ugunda, and hoped many of our countrymen would follow our example. "'It is a long and difficult journey,' he added, 'and we have not much besides our lakes and hills to show you. We appreciate it when you come so far, and if there is anything you specially wish to see, it shall be shown.' "Doctor Bronson mastered all the Arabic he could speak, and thanked the king for his offer. "'We wish to see the Victoria N'yanza,' said the Doctor, 'and to learn what we can about your majesty's country.' "The king answered that we should have all we wished, nodded his head just the least in the world, and looked away. Then he suddenly turned around toward the Doctor again, and said he would send him any provisions he might need for his men. [Illustration: KING OF UGUNDA RETIRING.] "He walked away, followed by his court officers. He has a dignified, almost haughty, manner of walking, and reminded me of Captain Speke's description of his striding off with two spears in his right hand, while with his left he led his favorite dog, which seemed to imitate the walk of his master. This peculiar step is supposed to represent the walk of the lion, which is the beast to which the king loves to be compared. "We walked slowly back to our zeriba, followed by a large crowd that pressed curiously around us. Their attentions were sometimes inconvenient, but nobody intentionally offered any affront. "We had not reached our quarters more than ten or fifteen minutes before the presents which the king had promised us began to arrive. "There were bags and jars, bundles and baskets, almost without number. They contained samples, and large ones, too, of nearly all the edible things produced in the country. There were potatoes, yams, bananas (green and ripe), eggs, chickens, milk, melons, tomatoes, cocoa-nuts, cassava flour, banana flour, pombé, and several varieties of fruits unknown to us. We have the products of the tropics and some of those of the temperate zone, and if the king's bounty continues there is no danger that we will starve in Ugunda. "Now was the time to send our presents to the king, the etiquette of the court requiring that they shall be made as soon as possible after an interview. Accordingly we despatched Abdul with the cloth, beads, jewellery, hatchets, knives, and other things of that nature which we had intended for M'tesa, and with the announcement that we had some other things to deliver in person and explain their uses, whenever it pleased his majesty to receive them. [Illustration: NATIVE OF UGUNDA, WITH HUNTING SPEAR.] "Abdul returned with a message from the prime-minister that the king would receive us and our presents the next morning, at a less formal assemblage than the one we had attended that day. Soon after his return there came an additional present, in the shape of five cows, twenty sheep, and as many goats, which were intended to supply our camp with fresh provisions. "The cattle resemble the Durham breed of England, and are the finest animals of the kind we have seen in Africa. They are kept mainly for their milk, as the Wagunda rarely eat beef; their diet is principally vegetable, with the occasional addition of the flesh of sheep, goats, and chickens. The king has large herds of cattle, and he sometimes sells them to the Arab traders, who take them to regions where such animals bring higher prices than in Ugunda. "The next morning we went to deliver the presents, having received notice that his majesty was ready to receive us. We found him in the open space in front of his audience-hall, accompanied by his wives and court officials--about fifty of the latter, and at least a hundred of the former. Fred and I thought that a hundred wives was a good many, but Abdul said there were at least as many more whom we did not see. "M'tesa is a very pleasant man when in the midst of his family, and he laughed and talked with them as freely as if he had not been king at all, but only an ordinary citizen. Of course we could not understand what he said, as we don't know ten words of the language; but, to judge by the laughter that followed his remarks, there must have been a good deal of fun in them. "Our porters deposited the presents in a spot indicated by the prime-minister and then retired. We opened the parcels, and Doctor Bronson gave the things to M'tesa one after the other as the wrappings were removed. "He was particularly desirous to obtain fire-arms, and we gave him a double-barrelled sporting gun of the Remington system, loading at the breech, and capable of being fired very rapidly. Then we gave him a rifle, with a case of explosive balls, which he immediately proceeded to test by firing one of them into a tree, where it exploded with great force and threw splinters of wood in every direction. [Illustration: THE KING'S MUSICIANS.] "A music-box was wound and set in operation. The king was familiar with music-boxes, as they had been brought by previous travellers. His wives showed the greatest delight at the sound which the instrument produced, and two or three of his little daughters could hardly remain quiet while the tunes were being played. "We couldn't show the magic lantern, as it was in the daytime, but we brought out the telephone, and stretched about a hundred yards of wire from one side of the open space to the other. When the connections had been made and everything was ready, we asked his majesty to make an experiment with the strange machine. "Doctor Bronson and Abdul went with the king to one end of the line, while Fred and I stood by the prime-minister at the other, with Ali to serve as our interpreter. [Illustration: VISITORS IN THE ZERIBA.] "Under the directions of the Doctor, M'tesa spoke through the instrument, and immediately received a response from our end of the wire. The voice of the minister seemed to be close to his ear, and he looked around, with an angry expression on his face, as if he believed there was some trick about it. "The kahotah was so far off that he could only be heard by shouting, and then the king spoke again through the telephone. "The kahotah responded immediately. To say the king was astonished is to express very mildly his mental condition. "In some doubt as to what was going on, he called one of his daughters, a little girl about eight or nine years old, who spoke Arabic fluently, and sent her to our end of the line. Evidently he thought it possible that the minister might be in collusion with us, and therefore he called the girl, as he knew she had not seen us till that morning, and had not spoken a word to any of our party. "She talked with her father both in their native language and in Arabic. As soon as they began speaking Doctor Bronson walked away a few yards from the king's side, so as not to overhear the conversation; and Fred and I walked away from the little girl in the same manner. "They talked there for nearly half an hour, and then the king asked if we could do the same thing at a greater distance. "We told him we could talk that way farther than he could possibly travel in a whole day. "'Can you talk from my palace to your zeriba?' "'Certainly,' the Doctor answered. 'We will do so to-morrow, if it is your majesty's pleasure.' "It was agreed that the next morning, at the same hour, we should have a conversation between the king's palace and the zeriba, and with this understanding the interview came to an end. The king was going to review one of his regiments, and asked us to see it, and of course we accepted. [Illustration: CAPTAIN SPEKE ATTENDING A REVIEW OF THE UGUNDA TROOPS.] "We found the troops just outside the palace yard, where the hill slopes away to the south. There were eight or nine hundred men, armed with spears and shields; they stood in a sort of irregular line, and at a signal from their officers a dozen soldiers came forward and went through the exercise of handling their spears in an imaginary battle. It was the same performance as described by Captain Speke at the time of his visit. The king would like to have an army of soldiers drilled and armed after the European fashion, but thus far he has not been able to obtain the weapons. He has about five hundred muskets, bought from Arab traders and others, and has formed a body-guard, commanded by a former soldier of the Egyptian army. These men are armed with the muskets just referred to, and as they have been fairly drilled they make a creditable appearance. "The two missionaries who have been living in Ugunda, but happen to be absent at this time, say that their efforts to teach the king the principles of Christianity have been somewhat retarded by his eagerness to obtain a plentiful supply of arms and ammunition. He thinks that to be a good Christian he ought to be able to shoot all his enemies, and some of his arguments have puzzled the missionaries not a little to answer. "'You want me to be Christian,' he says to them, 'and you don't give me what belongs to a Christian king. The countries that you come from and tell about have great armies, with the best kind of guns, and plenty of them; and why shouldn't I have the same? You say your queen is a good woman and a true Christian, and you told me the other day that she has a great army and navy, to do just what she wishes; and you told me that other countries had just the same, and they are all Christian. I want to be Christian too, and be able to conquer the whole of Africa with my army.' "It is easy to see that this line of argument must have been a troublesome one to the missionaries. We shall try our best to explain the matter if the king speaks to us about it, but are not altogether sure that we can remove his perplexity. "When the review was over we returned to our zeriba. The afternoon was devoted to arranging for the telephone performance, and for this purpose we asked the prime-minister to have some poles erected where the wire could be stretched. He made some difficulty about it; but when we told him that the performance could not come off without it, he sent for the poles, and had them put up as we desired. We stretched the wire about twelve feet above the ground, and asked to have orders that no one should touch the poles or the wire. Abdul said there was not the slightest fear of a disturbance of our apparatus, as the natives believed it was something supernatural, and not one would go near it, through fear that his life would pay the forfeit. "In the morning the king was ready at the appointed time, and sent word that he would commence the 'magic talk.' We made the same division of our numbers as at the first experiment, Doctor Bronson and Abdul attending to one end of the line, while Fred and I, with Ali, managed the other. It was necessary to do this in order to prevent any derangement of the apparatus through the eagerness or ignorance of the natives. "About half the number of the officials of the court were sent to the zeriba, together with a dozen or more of the king's wives and daughters. The king, at his end of the line, talked a few moments with one and then with another, until he was completely satisfied that there was no trickery about the mysterious wire and the boxes at the ends. The teachings of his childhood returned to him in contemplating the telephone: he at once attributed it to the spirits, and evidently regarded us as magicians of the highest rank. "When the performance was over he ordered a fresh supply of presents to be sent to our zeriba. We were fearful that he would want to retain the telephone; but he was evidently afraid of it, and felt relieved when the wire was removed, and the whole apparatus had been packed away in the cases where it belonged." CHAPTER XXIV. AT M'TESA'S COURT.--VISIT TO THE VICTORIA N'YANZA.--ASTONISHING THE KING. Continuing our acquaintance with M'tesa, King of Ugunda, it will be interesting to hear the story of the conversion of that monarch to the religion of Europe and America. [Illustration: HENRY M. STANLEY.] On page 202 of the first volume of "The Dark Continent," Stanley says as follows: "Since the 5th of April I had enjoyed ten interviews with M'tesa, and during all I had taken occasion to introduce topics which would lead up to the subject of Christianity. Nothing occurred in my presence but I contrived to turn it toward effecting that which had become an object to me--viz., his conversion. There was no attempt made to confuse him with the details of any particular doctrine. I simply drew for him the picture of the Son of God humbling himself for the good of all mankind, white and black; and told him how, when he was in man's disguise, he was seized and crucified by wicked people who scorned his divinity, and yet, out of his great love for them, while yet suffering on the cross, he asked his great Father to forgive them. I showed the difference in character between him whom white men love and adore, and Mohammed, whom the Arabs revere; how Jesus endeavored to teach mankind that we should love all men, excepting none, while Mohammed taught his followers that the slaying of the pagan and the unbeliever was an act that merited Paradise. I left it to M'tesa and his chiefs to decide which was the worthier character. I also sketched in brief the history of religious belief, from Adam to Mohammed. I had also begun to translate to him the Ten Commandments; and Idi, the Emperor's writer, transcribed in Kigandi the words of the Law, as given to him in choice Swahili by Robert Feruzi, one of my boat's crew, and a pupil of the Universities Mission at Zanzibar." While Stanley was engaged in impressing the truths of the Christian religion upon the mind of this African king, there came one day the announcement that a white man was approaching from the north. The stranger came, and proved to be Colonel Linant de Bellefonds, of the Egyptian army, and at that time attached to the Soudan division, under command of Gordon Pacha. Colonel Linant met Mr. Stanley at M'tesa's palace, and the religious conversations were continued in his presence from time to time. His arrival was a material assistance to Stanley in converting the king; "for, when questioned," says Stanley, "about the facts which I had uttered, and which had been faithfully transcribed, M. Linant, to M'tesa's astonishment, employed nearly the same words, and delivered the same responses. The remarkable fact that two white men who had never met before, one having arrived from the south-east, the other having emerged from the north, should, nevertheless, both know the same things and respond in the same words, charmed the popular mind without the 'burzah' (court), and was treasured in M'tesa's memory as being miraculous." In another place Stanley makes honorable mention of the poor Moslem laborer, Muley bin Salim, who converted M'tesa from the paganism in which Speke left him, and taught him the faith of Islam. Believing that one conversion could be followed by another, Stanley determined to build on the foundation laid by Muley bin Salim, by destroying the king's faith in Islam and teaching him the doctrines of Jesus of Nazareth. Colonel Linant, in his journal, makes an extended allusion to the good accomplished by Stanley, and the hours which they both devoted to the religious instruction of the king.[5] [5] Colonel Linant de Bellefonds remained several weeks at M'tesa's court, and then returned to Gondokoro, which he reached in safety. In the month of August of the same year, while on another expedition, he was massacred, with his entire party of thirty-six men, most of whom were of the original "Forty" that accompanied Baker in his Soudan campaign. Doctor Bronson and his young friends made several excursions in the neighborhood of Rubaga, and from the tops of the hills they enjoyed many charming views of the country. The region is one of the prettiest in Central Africa. There are few open plains or stretches of level land, as in the Unyoro country, and the marshes that make other parts of Africa so unhealthy are practically unknown. There is a succession of low hills, backed in the distance by ranges of mountains, and from most of the hill-tops the broad surface of the Victoria N'yanza is visible. Between all the ranges of hills there are brooks flowing down to the lakes, and as the rains are frequent in this part of the continent there is rarely any lack of water. The boys were eager to look upon the Victoria N'yanza, and not only to look upon it, but to ride over its surface. The second day after their exhibition of the powers of the telephone to the king an excursion was made to Usavara, the station of the fleet of King M'tesa, at the head of a small bay which opened out from the lake. [Illustration: ON THE ROAD TO THE LAKE.] It was about ten miles from Rubaga to Usavara. The king had caused a fine road to be made from his palace to the lake. This road is ten or twelve feet wide, and suitable for carriages, though no wheeled vehicle had ever traversed it up to that time. Our friends made the journey on horseback, and were delighted with their ride. They realized the correctness of Stanley's description, who said it carried him through jungle and garden, forest and field. There were groves of bananas, plantains, and other products of Ugunda agriculture. There were forests of tamarind, mimosa, gum, and other trees; and there were plantations of the _ficus_, from whose bark the cloth for the national dress of the people is made. The villages of dome-like huts formed an almost continuous line, or would have done so if the dense foliage had not concealed the most of them from sight. Up the slopes and then down again the road took its meandering way, and from each of the hill-tops a nearer view of the lake was obtained. The sky was clear, and the heat at times severe, but it was relieved in some measure by the foliage of the trees and by the breeze that blew from the lake. They were accompanied by a high officer of M'tesa's court, who was instructed to show everything they wished to see. As they desired to inspect some of the royal canoes, the officer sent an order to the place where they were kept, and in a little while half a dozen boats came dashing through the water. [Illustration: UGUNDA BOAT.] The boats were of a construction different from anything the youths had ever seen. They were built with high, projecting prows, rising up like the neck of a swan, and ornamented with a tuft of feathers and the horns of an antelope. Some of the boats were hollowed from the trunks of trees, while others were made of strips of planks fastened to frames. In either case the sides were braced by means of cross-pieces, and the largest of the boats had planks and canes laid upon the braces, so as to form a deck. Frank compared the Ugunda boat to the Japanese sampan; but Fred pointed out the difference in the height of the prows, and also the fact that the sampan had a sort of cabin at the stern, which was not so in the Ugunda craft. The men paddled instead of rowing, and Abdul said the use of oars as we employ them in America was almost unknown in Central Africa. The paddles were neatly cut from thin planks, and each paddle had a straight handle, terminating in a spoon-shaped point, hollowed a little, to give it a better hold on the water. Evidently the king's rowers knew their business, as they propelled their craft through the water at an astonishing speed. Time was kept by a steersman, who sung a monotonous chant, and the paddles rose and fell in perfect unison. The boats were brought to the side of a little wharf which extended to where the water was six or eight feet deep, and a landing stage, consisting of a raft of reeds, furnished convenient access to the craft. Doctor Bronson and the youths were invited to enter one of the boats for a ride down the bay. In a few minutes they were under way, at a speed of at least six miles an hour, propelled by the strong arms of the sailors of M'tesa's fleet. Where they entered the boat the bay was quite narrow. Doctor Bronson said it was the body of water to which Speke gave the name of Murchison Creek, while the water farther down was named Murchison Bay, in order to identify it with the creek. [Illustration: VIEW ON MURCHISON CREEK.] Several boats were out on the water, and the scene was an animated one. All of them were careful to keep out of the way of the king's craft, and therefore the course was kept as straight as a sunbeam, except where it became necessary to make slight deviations in consequence of the winding of the shores. An hour's rowing brought them to a village which, the officer explained, was one of the king's stations when he wanted to enjoy himself on a fishing excursion, or when preparing for a battle with his enemies on the other side of the lake. M'tesa has a powerful enemy on the eastern shore, and not unfrequently they try the strength of their boats against each other. One of these wars was in progress at the time of Stanley's visit, and the great explorer was able to render material assistance to M'tesa, and thereby win his friendship. They did not go far enough down the bay to get a full view of the lake, as the distance was not less than twelve miles, and time did not permit. Frank and Fred were somewhat disappointed, but Doctor Bronson told them they would doubtless have the opportunity of traversing the lake in a few days, and therefore have all the fresh-water navigation they wanted. [Illustration: HILLS BACK FROM THE LAKE.] A little before sunset they went back to the point from which they started, and spent the night in some huts the king had ordered set apart for their use. The next morning they returned to Rubaga by another and longer route, which gave them a good view of the country around the capital of Ugunda. Everywhere were the villages, with their conical huts, half-concealed among the trees; and the numerous plantations of bananas and other edible things showed that the natives had no idea of starving. The boys observed that most of the work in the fields was performed by women. Abdul said the men were required by the king to serve as soldiers or boatmen, but a large number of them had very little to do from one month's end to another. [Illustration: "ELEPHANT'S FOOT," OR "GOUTY-LIMBED," TREE.] Fred called attention to some trees with very large trunks in proportion to their limbs. He remarked the curiously formed stump, and said he should call the tree by the name of "elephant foot," for the want of one which would be more descriptive. "That is the name it is known by," said Abdul in reply. "Some of the native tribes call it the 'elephant's foot,' and it is also known as the 'gouty-limbed.' It belongs to the calabash family, and grows, as you observe, on the poorer kind of soil. It takes up its location where most of the other tropical trees decline to grow." Everywhere they went the villagers came out to look at the strangers, and, as at Rubaga, the horses attracted more attention than their riders. One of them showed signs of illness, and just as they reached the capital his strength gave way, and he was unable to stand. He lay down in front of the hut that formed his stable, and in spite of every exertion his keepers could not persuade him to get up and go inside. In the morning he was somewhat better. It was impossible to decide whether he was the victim of the dreaded tsetse-fly, or was simply suffering from some equine ailment which could be cured by rest and attention. All agreed that he must be kept as quiet as possible, and whatever excursions were undertaken for the present must be made without him. As a matter of precaution, it was decided that all three of the horses should be kept in their stables for the remainder of the stay at Rubaga. In the afternoon the king sent for the Doctor and the youths to come to an audience. They went accordingly, and the Doctor carried, as a present to his majesty, a field-glass of great power--one of the best that could be found in London or Paris. M'tesa was greatly pleased with the gift, and suspended the interview in order to try its powers. After devoting half an hour to levelling the glass upon the huts and people within range and observing the effect, he remarked that the glass and the "magic talker" ought to enable him to see and hear everything in Rubaga without going away from home. He asked if the white man could make glasses with which they could see in the dark. The Doctor was about to answer in the negative, but a hint from Frank caused him to give an evasive reply and promise to show something new in a day or two. When the experiments with the field-glass were ended M'tesa entered into familiar conversation with the Doctor, and, among other questions, asked if he was acquainted with "Stamlee." Doctor Bronson answered that he knew Stanley, having met him many times in New York and other places. The king had very little idea where New York was situated, and his chief concern was to know that the two were acquainted. "Then if you know Stamlee," said he, "I suppose you will want to do just as he did?" "Certainly," said the Doctor, though with some misgivings, as he feared he might be obliged to follow Stanley's example and assist the king to subdue some of his enemies. He was set at ease immediately by the king, who said he was at peace with all his neighbors, and therefore there would not be the same difficulty in going to the "Running N'yanza" as there was in Stanley's time. The Doctor took the hint at once, and said they wished to visit the "Running N'yanza," or the place where the river leaves the great lake. "Well," answered M'tesa, "you shall go to the Running N'yanza in a few days, and I will give you boats to go with. You can come back by land, and the porters will meet you at the falls." Thus the plan of an excursion to the outlet of the Victoria N'yanza and the visit to Ripon Falls was completed in a few minutes. Speke had great difficulty in getting there at all; Long was obliged to ask many times before he received permission to go there, and then he had to fight his way down the river; and Stanley only succeeded in reaching the falls by accompanying the king on a warlike expedition against one of his rebellious tribes. The "Running" or "Flowing N'yanza" is the name given to a river; while "n'yanza," without any prefix, simply means water, and may apply to any body of that liquid, from the contents of a drinking-cup up to one of the great lakes, or even the ocean. This general use of the word was sometimes confusing, but by degrees our friends came to understand it; and as for the Running N'yanza, there could be no mistake about that. [Illustration: TREES AND CLIMBING PLANTS IN CENTRAL AFRICA.] Before they left the royal presence the king hinted that if the white men had anything for seeing in the dark he would like to have it produced. At Frank's suggestion, an appointment was asked for the evening of the second day from that date, as it would be necessary to unpack some of the cases and make arrangements which could not be hurried. The king gave the desired appointment, and the strangers went to their zeriba. Fred was puzzled to know what Frank intended to do, and as soon as they were out of hearing of the king he asked his cousin what he meant by hinting that they could enable his majesty to see in the dark. "Perhaps we cannot literally make him see in the dark," Frank responded, "but we can go quite the distance in that direction. We'll show him something he has never seen yet." "What is that?" "Gas." "Where'll you get it?" Fred inquired. "Make it ourselves," was the reply. "We haven't the New York Gas-Works at hand, but we'll get up a substitute." Fred made no reply, as he was well aware Frank had made his plans, or he would not be so confident. Frank continued that he would explain his process as soon as they reached the zeriba. He added that he should want Fred to help him, and the latter immediately promised to do everything he could to make the experiment successful. "You know," said Frank, as soon as they were seated in their zeriba, "how gas is made for illuminating purposes?" "Certainly I do," was the reply, "for I learned that when I studied chemistry." "Just run over the process," Frank suggested. "Let me see," responded his cousin. "The coal is baked in retorts, which are generally made of clay. They are closed up tight as soon as the coal is put in, and the hot fire beneath them causes the coal to give out its gas, which is carried away by iron pipes." "All right so far," said Frank. [Illustration: CHARGING A RETORT IN A GAS FACTORY.] "The retorts are set in a framework of brick, and look like small ovens. The coal is put in with a long shovel, and after the retort is closed it is baked four or five hours, when it is drawn out and replaced by a fresh charge. "The gas goes from the retorts to the purifier, which consists of a series of pipes surrounded by water. It travels through these pipes till it is thoroughly cooled and gives up the tar and other impurities contained in it; then it passes through water and water-spray, to wash away ammonia, another impurity; next it is forced through powdered lime, to remove the sulphur contained in it; and then it goes to the gasometer, whence it is carried in pipes to the places where it is to be consumed." [Illustration: DIAGRAM OF GAS-WORKS.] "That's the whole story," responded Frank; "and I am going to make gas on a small scale to amuse the king. We cannot make our gas as pure as it is made in a large establishment, but we'll get it up so as to answer our purpose." With this understanding the boys went to work, and before night they had accumulated most of the materials needed for their performance. From one of the boxes Frank took a coil of rubber pipe and a slender "drop-light," which he had brought along, with the consent of the Doctor. A reflector, to be placed on this burner, was made by cutting an empty provision-can so as to form a cone, and carefully cleaning the surface of the tin on the inside. A small hand-mirror was mounted on a pivot, so that it could be used for turning the light on any desired point, and another mirror was arranged to be hung in front of the light and rotated at will. Half a dozen jars, with narrow mouths and covers to fit, were obtained by the efforts of Abdul, and also a quantity of soft clay, for closing them hermetically when desired. A couple of old gun-barrels were bought from a native, to serve as tubes to carry the gas from the retorts to the tub of water which was to serve as a purifier. A jar placed in this water with its mouth downward was the gasometer, or receiver, and then the apparatus was pronounced complete. "But how'll you manage to take your gas from the receiver to the king's palace?" said Fred. "Oh, that's easy enough," was the reply. "You know we have a lot of rubber bags for carrying things in and preserving them from the moisture of the climate. We will make a small hole in the gas-receiver, and fill the bags one after the other by placing them over this hole, which we can plug with a cork when we want to close it. "We can tie the mouths of the bags tight enough to prevent much loss, and in this way carry the gas to the palace. The rubber tube will make the connection from the bag to the burner. We can get sufficient pressure by having a man sit on the bag while we are using the light; and when we exhaust a bag, and want to replace it with a fresh one, we can easily make some excuse for suspending operations a few moments." "But you haven't any bituminous coal of the kind used for making gas," said Fred. "I suppose you've thought of that, and will use charcoal?" "That is what I shall do," was the reply. "These people make charcoal, as you know, and use it for smelting and working iron. I have told Abdul to get us a good lot of charcoal for to-morrow morning, when we will start our gas-works; and if we have no accident we shall be ready for the performance when the evening comes around." [Illustration: FRANK'S GAS-RETORT.] The next day both the youths were occupied with their work, and they had made such careful preparations that their impromptu apparatus succeeded admirably. The charcoal proved a very fair substitute for hard coal, and Fred remembered his boyish experiment at gas-making by filling the bowl of a common tobacco-pipe with charcoal, closing it with clay or putty, and then placing it in the fire. In a few moments a stream of gas issued from the stem of the pipe, and instantly ignited when a burning match was held in front of it. In the evening the party repaired to the palace, on receiving word from the king that he was ready to see them. They were accompanied by the requisite number of porters for carrying their gas apparatus and music-box, and also the magic lantern, which they had determined to exhibit before making the experiments with the gas, and to prevent a complete disappointment in case the latter should fail. A small space was given to the boys at one end of the audience-hall, and in a very short time they arranged their magic lantern and the screen which was to display the pictures. The king was there, with his wives and officers, so that the place was well filled. Frank whispered to Fred that it would be well to put out a placard announcing "Standing-room only!" and Fred intimated that the door-keeper should refuse admission to all who had not secured seats in advance. "What a lot of money we could make," said Frank, "if we had reserved the whole house and put the tickets in the hands of the speculators!" "Yes," responded Fred; "but remember, this isn't a republican country; and perhaps the king would call his executioners, and discourage future speculators by decapitating ours." "Let's invite him to New York, to break up the ticket ring," was the reply. "Then it might be possible once in a while to get a seat in a theatre without paying a premium for it." "We'll talk that over some other time," said Fred. "If the show is ready, let's go ahead with it." They exhibited a varied collection of pictures with the lantern, which greatly amused the king, and set his officers and the rest of the party in an uproar of wild delight. The music-box had been wound up; it was started at the same moment as the first picture was shown, and there was a general belief in the audience that music and lantern were one. When this part of the affair was ended the gas apparatus was put in operation. It roused the curiosity of the king, who was thoroughly convinced that the white men knew the secret of making air burn, as he examined the bags and pipe, and was satisfied they contained nothing but air. The reflectors answered their purpose very well, and threw light in any direction the king suggested. On the whole, the boys had reason to congratulate themselves on the success of the affair, and they greatly regretted that, owing to force of circumstances, the brilliant engagement was to terminate with only one performance. The close of the entertainment literally "brought down the house." Everybody was invited outside to witness the grand finale, which consisted in sending up a paper balloon, carrying a Chinese lantern. As the light rose toward the sky some of the women and children actually fell down in terror at the strangeness of the occurrence, and it required all the persuasive powers of the king to convince them that no harm would ensue from the magic of the white man. [Illustration: SEEING THE SHOW.] CHAPTER XXV. AN EXCURSION ON THE VICTORIA N'YANZA. The next morning our friends went to another audience with the king, who expressed his gratification at the exhibition of the magic lantern and the gas-light, and said nothing of the kind had ever been seen in Ugunda. It was easy to observe that his respect for the white man was steadily increasing. He asked if such things were common in the land they came from. Doctor Bronson said that in America and England whole cities were lighted by "burning air" like that which had been forced from the mysterious bags, and men rode among the clouds in contrivances such as had been sent up with the lantern attached to it. M'tesa was inclined to be sceptical on this point, and said if that was the case the white man ought to travel across Africa in air-ships, instead of walking long distances over the rough hills and through interminable forests. [Illustration: M'TESA'S IDEA FOR CROSSING AFRICA.] Just before they started from the zeriba Fred had been reading Jules Verne's "Five Weeks in a Balloon," which describes an imaginary journey across Africa in an air-ship, which could be made to go wherever its occupants desired, and to rise and descend at will. The copy in Fred's possession was full of illustrations of the supposed adventures of Dr. Ferguson and his two companions in a trans-African voyage. The volume happened to be in his pocket at the time of the visit to the king, and, at the Doctor's suggestion, he produced it when M'tesa made the suggestion last mentioned.[6] [6] "Five Weeks in a Balloon" is an excellent compendium of African travel down to the time it was written. While it abounds in imaginary adventures of the most exciting character, it comprises an admirable description of the geography, people, animals, and vegetable productions of the central portion of the "Dark Continent." The Doctor took the book and handed it to the king. The latter opened it, and gazed with astonishment on the pictures which passed before his eyes. There were the very air-ships he had suggested; there were the mountains and lakes of Africa, its wild animals, its forests, and everything to indicate that his country had been traversed by the wonderful vehicles. For some minutes he gazed on the revelation, and could scarcely believe his eyes. When he came to the illustration of the scene where the anchor of the balloon is caught in the mouth of an elephant, which tows the travellers at a rapid rate, he laughed heartily. "Only the white man would think of having an elephant to draw him in that way," said M'tesa. "The white man can do everything." Seeing the great interest of M'tesa in the book, Doctor Bronson intimated that he could keep it. The volume was immediately handed to one of the officers, and the business of the visit went on. The king referred to his promise to send the party to the Victoria N'yanza, and the point where it discharges its waters to send them down to the sea. He asked how far they wanted to go. "We would like to visit Ripon Falls," said the Doctor, "and return from there to your majesty's capital." "Very well," replied M'tesa. "You can go to the falls in the boats I will give you, and then you can come back by land, as I said before. I will send the porters to meet you at the falls," he continued, "and an escort to make the road safe when you come back." Doctor Bronson suggested that they could return the same way as they went. They could come back in the boats, which would be obliged to return in any event, and therefore they could bring the party without any serious effort. The suggestion seemed to strike the king favorably, though he received it with some surprise, which Abdul explained by the fact that all the white men who had ever been in Ugunda seemed unwilling to travel the same route twice. It was therefore natural for the king to suppose that the strangers would prefer returning by the land route, which would be a new one to them, rather than make the water journey a second time. This would have been the case with Doctor Bronson and the youths, but they had learned that the land journey between Ripon Falls and Rubaga was a very difficult one, without any new and interesting features, and therefore they favored the return by water, as it would be easier and far less expensive. Besides, it would be a considerable saving of time to them, and they were anxious to continue their journey to the south as soon as possible. Accordingly it was settled that they would leave as soon as they were ready, and the king would give them a sufficient number of boats for the journey. All the goods and provisions they did not require could be stored at Rubaga, to await their return, and the king would see that everything was safe. With this understanding the audience ended and our friends retired. [Illustration: RETURNING FROM AN EXCURSION.] The rest of the day was devoted to arranging their goods and selecting such as they wished to carry. Doctor Bronson told the boys they would take all their fire-arms and most of the ammunition. The most valuable of the goods were also carried along, together with their tents and camp equipage, and Frank remarked that they had a fairly good supply for continuing their journey through Africa without returning to Rubaga. "That is precisely what I want," replied the Doctor. "M'tesa is friendly, and I have not the slightest doubt of his sincerity, but we can't say what will happen. He is the king, and cannot stand guard in person over our property, and his men are not the most honest in the world. Besides, there is a constant liability to war among these African potentates, and we might find it inconvenient to return here after getting on the waters of the lake." "I understand," said Frank. "We desire to be so situated that the dishonesty of the men who watch our property in our absence, and a sudden declaration of war between M'tesa and some other ruler, cannot wreck our expedition completely." The Doctor assented, and on this basis the work of selection went on. By the time it was ended there was not much left to select, except the most bulky and least valuable articles. The next morning Doctor Bronson sent Abdul to the king with an appropriate present, and asked that the porters might be sent to carry the goods to Usavara. He had already despatched twenty men, in charge of Frank, with the instruments, camp equipage, and several boxes of ammunition. There would have been no difficulty about engaging the entire number for the work, but it was thought the king would prefer to show his authority by ordering his subjects to be at the service of the white men. By the afternoon of the next day everything they wanted was at Usavara, and ten boats had been assigned to their use for the journey to the falls and back. The king had given the necessary orders, but according to the custom of Africa it was necessary for the Doctor to make a bargain with the head-men of the boats, who were to receive payment in cloth, brass wire, beads, and other currency of Ugunda, very much as if they had not been in the service of the king at all. [Illustration: THE KING'S SLAVES CARRYING FUEL AND CUTTING RICE.] They passed the night in the huts which had been assigned to them by the king, and bright and early the next morning the work of loading the boats was begun. Doctor Bronson had promised the captains an extra present if they would hurry matters as much as possible, and he certainly had no cause of complaint. The boatmen were assisted by a gang of the king's slaves, who were brought from a neighboring field, where they had been carrying fuel and cultivating rice. Though M'tesa had become a Christian he had not reached the point of looking upon slavery as at all incompatible with his new religion. He not only kept a large number of slaves, most of them captives taken in wars with his neighbors, but he had no objection to dealing in human merchandise whenever he could make a good bargain. When he was told that it was not proper for a Christian to hold slaves, or buy and sell them, he replied that a good deal of the slave-trade of Africa was owing to the encouragement of Christian nations, and asked if there had never been any slaves in England and America. He even made quotations from the Bible in support of his theory, and threw several difficulties in the way of a free discussion of the subject. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN DRUM-CORPS.] By the middle of the forenoon everything was ready, and the signal was given for departure. There was a good deal more noise in the signal than had been bargained for, as it was made by a band of music of twenty pieces--rather a monotonous array, and a noisy one, as each piece was a drum. Every drummer played with all his might. Time was kept by a leader, who stood in front of the musicians, with a smaller and lighter drum than any of the rest. Frank said it reminded him of the way in which the celebrated Strauss conducts an orchestra, by making free use of a violin instead of confining himself to a baton. The drums lay upon the ground, and had a strong resemblance to a battery of mortars ready for siege operations. Fred thought the performance could be improved by charging each drum with a few pounds of powder and firing the whole lot at once, as a grand finale. Down the creek and into the bay went the ten large canoes, the men keeping time by a monotonous chant, and paddling steadily along, though not so fast as did the crew of the boat that took them on their first excursion on the waters of Lake N'yanza. Doctor Bronson and Abdul took the lead in the first boat, while Frank and Fred brought up the rear in the last. This was thought to be the best arrangement for preserving order and preventing straggling. Before starting from Usavara Doctor Bronson had numbered the boats, and affixed a placard to each for its identification, his own boat being "number one," while that of the youths became naturally "number ten." The men in each boat very soon caught the monosyllable by which their craft was known, and it was amusing to hear them calling out the numerals that distinguished them from others. It was their first lesson in the language of the foreigners. They descended the bay to the lake and turned in the direction of the outlet of the great water. Looking away to the south and east was like gazing on the ocean, as the opposite shores were entirely hidden from view. A breeze rippled over the water and raised a little swell, but it was not sufficient to interfere with the progress of the boats or the comfort of their occupants. The rowers wore nothing but their waist-cloths, and it concerned them very little to receive a drenching; but it was otherwise with the strangers, who were arrayed in suits of white linen, and would have presented an appearance the reverse of dignified, if their garments had been washed by an impertinent wave. We will now glance at the characteristics of the lake. The Victoria N'yanza is situated directly under the equator, extending from 2° 24' south latitude to 0° 21' north. As before stated, it was discovered by Captain Speke in 1858, who travelled along its western and northern shores a few years later, but was unable to follow the entire line around it. In 1875 Stanley circumnavigated it, and made a careful survey of nearly all its bays and indentations. He estimates the area to be not far from twenty-one thousand five hundred square miles, and fixes its elevation at four thousand one hundred and sixty-eight feet above the level of the sea. Speke made it three thousand three hundred and eight feet, but Stanley's observation is probably the correct one, as it is supported by Baker, who found the Victoria Nile at M'rooli four thousand and sixty-one feet above sea-level. Leaving out the indentations, the lake is nearly of a circular form. Its length from north to south is about one hundred and fifty miles, and its breadth perhaps twenty miles less. The natives say it is very deep, but Stanley's observations do not confirm their theory, as he found it shallow in most places where he took soundings. Frank observed that the water of the lake was not clear. It had a dirty-white color, something like that of the Nile, but when taken into a glass the color almost entirely disappeared. The boys tasted of the water, and found it perfectly good and sweet; and so much did it meet their approval that they drank again and again. [Illustration: LAKE SCENERY IN CENTRAL AFRICA.] "No one can doubt that this is the source of the Nile," said Fred, "if he is familiar with the water of the river, and then drinks from the lake. The taste, or rather the sweetness, is exactly the same." "Yes," answered Frank, "and the Persian conqueror who forbade his soldiers to ask for wine when the water of the Nile could be procured would have included that of the Victoria N'yanza, if he had known of its existence." "And they wouldn't have been restricted in the least," replied Fred, "as all the armies of the world might drink from the lake without affecting it. Twenty thousand square miles of water ought to be a good source of supply." Frank was looking over the side of the boat, and suddenly spied a large fish darting away, as if frightened by the strange apparition of the craft above him. Of course this incident roused the curiosity of the youths to know something of the finny products of the lake. Ali questioned the boatmen, and learned that there were several kinds of fishes in the lake. Some of them grew so large that it took two men to handle one of them, and it sometimes happened that a man who grappled a fish of this sort was dragged under water by it. The boatmen said there was another fish in the lake, which occasionally grew to the size of a boy. Frank intimated that it was important to know what size of boy was referred to. It might be anywhere from five pounds up to two hundred-weight--a very wide margin on which to base a calculation. With some difficulty Ali learned that a boy of eight or ten years was meant, and with this explanation the answer was considered satisfactory. [Illustration: KAMBARI FISH.] The captain of the boat opened a parcel and drew from it a dried fish, which formed part of their provisions. He said it was known as "samaki kambari," and lived in the mud at the bottom of the shallow bays and in the small creeks flowing into the lake. It was caught in great numbers, and dried over a fire and in the sun, very much as herrings are dried in other countries. Another lake fish that was described is the "sama-moa," which grows to a length of twenty inches, and belongs to the shad family. It is covered with scales, and its body is more slender than that of the American shad. The dorsal fin extends from the centre of the back almost to the tail, and the body is full of bones. At the place where they spent the night one of these fish was served up for supper, and proved a toothsome morsel. Frank thought he could make a "planked shad" out of the new fish. The next morning he tried his hand at amateur cooking, and his effort was fairly successful. The fish was split and nailed to one side of a short plank taken from an old boat on the shore. In this position it was exposed to the fire, and properly seasoned while the cooking process went on. When it was served up both the Doctor and Fred were unanimous in declaring it delicious, and proposed that Frank should be installed as cook for the remainder of the excursion. The young gentleman declined the proffered honor, and said he could not have the heart to throw their Arab _cuisinier_ out of employment. The fact was he had been baked nearly as much as the fish he had prepared, and was in no mood for repeating the experiment. "Well," said Fred, "if you won't accept the office of cook I'll tell you what I'll do. We'll 'turn and turn about,' as they say at home, and I'll cook the fish at the next camp." "All right," Frank responded. "I'll agree to take turns with you until you are tired of the business." With this understanding the topic of conversation was changed. During the day more fish were obtained, and when they halted at night Fred proceeded to try his hand at cooking. He told Abdul to bring several flat-topped stones and heat them in the fire. The stones were taken from the water, as they were cleaner than those on dry land, the latter being covered with moss and other tropical products. "Now I'll show you how we used to cook fish in the Adirondacks," said Fred, with a dignified air. "You will find the flavor delicious, provided the fish are good for anything, to start with. "When the stone is hot we brush off all the ashes and lay the fish upon it, first wrapping it in a leaf. Another and smaller stone laid above it will bake the fish in a way that is superb, and preserves all the flavor." [Illustration: FRED'S EXPERIMENT IN COOKING FISH.] The stones were duly heated, and the fishes were spread out according to Fred's directions. The coffee-pot was in front of the fire, and the frying-pan was sizzling in the old-fashioned way, when suddenly there was an explosion that sent Fred and his trout in different directions, put Frank to a hasty flight, overturned the coffee-pot, and made a mess of things generally. Luckily nobody was hurt, though there was quite a scare all around. The negroes who witnessed the performance were of the impression that the white men were trying some new experiment in keeping with the telephone and the magic lantern, and therefore took the explosion as a matter of course. They were less moved by the incident than were the white men--perhaps in consequence of having been farther from the fire at the moment of the explosion. "How did it happen?" said Fred, in open-mouthed wonder, as soon as he had gathered himself together. "I can't imagine," said Frank; "but anyway it seems as though your new process of cooking was not a brilliant success. You won't hold office as cook very long." "Not if the dinner is going to blow up in this way every time," was the reply. "But I'd like to know how it happened." "The explanation is very simple," said the Doctor, who had been called from his tent by the explosion. "The stones came from the lake, where they have been lying for centuries. They contained cells filled with water, and as the stones were heated the water was turned to steam. Hence the blow-up." Fred decided that he would make no farther experiments in teaching the uneducated African the mysteries of American cookery. Frank made a sketch of the scene, with a few exaggerations, and said he believed a similar incident was narrated in "Porte Crayon's" account of a journey in the mountains of North Carolina. [Illustration: ON THE LAKE.] CHAPTER XXVI. RIPON FALLS.--THE OUTLET OF THE VICTORIA N'YANZA. As they approached the northern end of the lake they passed a high hill, which was marked on the chart as "Jack's Mount." Referring to Stanley's account of his voyage around the lake, they ascertained that the hill received its name in honor of one of the four-footed companions of that explorer. [Illustration: JACK.] When Stanley left England he took, as members or _attachés_ of his expedition, five dogs, three of which died before he reached Ugunda. "Jack" and his companion, "Bull," were the survivors when they arrived near this mountain. A wild cow that had been given by one of the chiefs behaved so badly that Jack deemed it his duty to correct her; but she was not to be intimidated. In the struggle for control the unfortunate dog was gored to death. Stanley says: "He died regretted by all who had known his many good qualities. His companion, Bull, when he beheld his poor mate stretched out still and dead, also expressed, as clearly as canine nature would allow, his great sorrow at his lamentable fate. Grave and deliberate, from years and long travel, he walked round the body two or three times, examining it carefully, and then advanced to me, with his honest eyes wide open, as if to ask, 'What has caused this?' Receiving no answer, he went aside and sat down, with his back toward me, solemn and sad, as though he were ruminating despondingly on the evils which beset dog and man alike in this harsh and wicked world." The little flotilla turned northward after passing Jack's Mount, and entered a bay, from which the Victoria Nile flows out of the lake. This bay is known on the map as Napoleon Channel, and is ten or twelve miles wide at its entrance. A large island lies across the opening, and during the wars between M'tesa and the people of Usoga it has been occupied repeatedly by both the hostile armies; consequently, it is not a desirable place of residence for peacefully-inclined natives, and at the time our friends made their excursion to Ripon Falls it was quite deserted. They landed on the island, and from some of the fields a goodly supply of yams and other vegetables was obtained, without the necessity of paying for them. The bay narrowed as the party advanced to the north; and, after a few miles had been made from the end of the island, the men ceased rowing, and allowed the boats to drift with the current, which became stronger every minute. The boys were eager to catch the first glimpse of Ripon Falls, and Frank asked if there was a column of spray to indicate their location, as there is at Niagara and other great cataracts of America. "You are not likely to see anything of the kind," replied the Doctor, "as the river makes a descent of only a few feet. The cataract is so small that the natives frequently pass it in their canoes, though not without danger." "The natives call the place 'The Stones' instead of 'Falls,'" said Abdul, "for the reason, I suppose, that the river passes over the stones, or rocks, which stretch across it. The descent is about twelve feet in the ordinary state of the river, and diminishes to not more than nine feet in the season when the rains are not falling." The river narrowed to a width varying from four to six hundred yards. The banks were hilly, and covered with dense forests in some places, but presenting open spaces like clearings at frequent intervals. There were villages on both banks, though none of any great extent. The natives came out to gaze on the flotilla, but offered no opposition, or gave any indication of more than ordinary interest in the intrusion. Back of the villages were banana-fields and groves of cocoa-trees, and moored in front of each village were several boats, together with nets and other equipments for fishing. Where a rocky point jutted into the river the boats came to land. A scramble over the neck of this peninsula and through tangled vines and low bushes brought the travellers to the bank of the river again, and close to Ripon Falls. Running rather than walking down the narrow path, Frank and Fred reached the river side by side so exactly that neither could claim precedence. Here they were at last at what may be called the head of the Nile, until the tributaries of the Victoria N'yanza are traced to their sources. [Illustration: RIPON FALLS: THE NILE FLOWING OUT OF THE VICTORIA N'YANZA.] They sat down on the sloping bank, close to a little hut belonging to some of the native fishermen, and studied the picture which was unfolded to their eyes. The river at the falls was not more than five or six hundred feet in width, and the passage of the water was barred by several islands, which recalled to the youths the broken sheet of water at Niagara. "We will call the big one in the centre Goat Island," said Frank, "and try to think we are looking at Niagara again." "That's all right," replied his cousin; "but what shall we do with the other two islands? They must have names of their own, or they'll feel slighted." Frank thought a moment, and then suggested the names of Mary and Effie. Fred assented, and thus the islands at Ripon Falls received their appellations in honor of two young ladies who were far away. But it is doubtful if future geographers will recognize them, and thus far the names have not appeared on any chart of the lakes of Central Africa. While the conversation was going on the youths were busy with their sketch-books, and soon had creditable pictures of the falls; then they watched the fish leaping the cataract, and the natives securing them with spears. [Illustration: A GROUP OF HIPPOPOTAMI.] Every little while the head of a hippopotamus was seen rising in the water below the falls, and Frank thought it would be a nice thing to get out the rifles and have a hunt for this noble game. With the Doctor's consent, he took a shot at one of the huge fellows, but with no better luck than to see his bullet strike the water about six inches from the mark. As far as the hippo was concerned it was a timely warning, which he heeded by disappearing immediately. Abdul said the place was a good one for crocodiles, and that the natives were very cautious about venturing into the water. Once in a while it happened that a fishing-boat was overturned; and if it was well out in the river at the time of the accident, the unfortunate natives were seized by these terrible scourges of the Nile before they could reach the shore. "We are about forty miles a little north of east from M'tesa's palace," said Abdul; "and if there was a good road we could easily get back in a couple of days. But the country is marshy, with a very thick growth of bushes, so that travelling is slow and disagreeable. There used to be a good supply of game through this region, but it has been killed off to quite an extent since the king came into possession of rifles and shot-guns in place of the old weapons of Africa. "Elephants were formerly very troublesome here, and the natives were unable to protect their banana plantations from their ravages. A herd of wild elephants may wander all around a plantation, and if they have never tasted bananas a very slight fence will keep them off; but when the taste for this food has been created they seem unwilling to live on anything else, and will run great risks to obtain it." "There is one animal of Africa we have not yet made much acquaintance with," said one of the youths. "What is that?" the other asked. "The rhinoceros," was the reply. "We are not in the region where he most abounds," said Abdul, "though he is not by any means unknown here. His proper country is South Africa, and he formerly flourished nearly down to the Cape of Good Hope. The settlement of the country drove him to the interior along with the elephant, the lion, and other noble game; and now the rhinoceros must be sought in the interior wilds, and is not always found when sought." "This is a good place to have a talk about him," said the Doctor, as they sat on the bank near the falls and watched the water pouring through its contracted channel; "and perhaps we may have a chance to shoot at one of these thick-skinned creatures before we leave the neighborhood of the highest cataract of the Nile. [Illustration: READY FOR BUSINESS.] "Scientifically considered," the Doctor continued, "the rhinoceros may be set down as an ungulate mammal, secondary only to the elephant in point of size among terrestrial animals. He is distinguished by his horn, which is supported on the end of the nose, but not connected with it, as it comes away with the hide, to which it and its broad base entirely belong." "His horn is a powerful weapon, I believe?" said one of the boys. "It is one of the most powerful weapons belonging to any animal," replied Doctor Bronson, "as it is more conveniently situated for use than the tusks of an elephant or the horns of a bull. "With his horn he can kill an elephant, and frequently does it. The elephant and rhinoceros in a wild state are enemies, and when they meet there is pretty sure to be a fierce battle, resulting in the death of one, and perhaps both, of the adversaries. But when domesticated they are quite friendly, and instances have occurred wherein two of these beasts have shown great affection for each other. The rhinoceros at home is a savage brute; he does not wait to be assaulted, but often begins an attack upon peaceful travellers: sometimes he will travel a long distance with the evident intention of making a disturbance. "Dr. Livingstone is an excellent authority on the rhinoceros, as he had many opportunities of seeing him at home. He says that among some of the tribes he visited in South Africa a man is obliged to kill a rhinoceros before he is allowed to marry and be considered more than a youth. Probably the custom has been changed in the last few years, owing to the scarcity of these animals, and the impossibility of finding enough of them to meet the wants of the rising generation." Frank asked the size of the rhinoceros, and whether or not he was quick in his movements. "As to the figures," answered the Doctor, "we learn, on the authority of those who have hunted him, that the white rhinoceros of Africa will sometimes measure fourteen feet from nose to tail, and his girth often exceeds eleven feet. His horn will sometimes be five feet long, but much more frequently it is about three feet. One variety of the rhinoceros has a double horn, the second one being a little back from the first and considerably shorter--frequently nothing more than a protuberance. "Gordon Cumming says that, notwithstanding his short legs and generally unwieldy body, the rhinoceros is quick in his movements, and a horseman can scarcely overtake him. Another hunter says he can dart like lightning, and in strength is unsurpassed by any animal of the forest. There is an old story that a rhinoceros was once sent as a present to the King of Portugal. One day in a rage he destroyed the ship on which he was being transported, and the sailors had great difficulty to escape in the boats. When we think of the frail construction of ships two or three centuries ago and the strength of the rhinoceros, we can hardly treat the story as a gross fabrication." "You mentioned the white rhinoceros a moment ago," said one of the boys. "Is he more dangerous than his black brother?" "He is the larger but the less offensive of the two," said the Doctor, in response to the question. "The black one will attack without provocation, while the white rhinoceros, though the larger, asks to be let alone, and only shows fight when compelled to defend himself. [Illustration: TROUBLE IN THE RHINOCEROS FAMILY.] "The black rhinoceros is ready to attack man, elephant, or lion without warning, and sometimes, when he is anxious for a fight, he will get one up with his own brother or a near relative. It is a providential circumstance that his eye is small, and so badly placed that he cannot see with ease. If he had good eyesight he would be vastly more dangerous than he is. [Illustration: BAD FOR THE DOG.] "Mr. Oswell, an African hunter and explorer, who discovered Lake N'gami, tells how he was one day walking quietly to camp, when he saw two large rhinoceroses feeding on the plain. At sight of him the animals advanced in his direction, and he stopped and took aim at one of them. He knew that a shot in the forehead of the rhinoceros has no worse effect than to tickle him, as though it were the touch of a fan; but, as the beast might be angry at being struck with a fan, he is liable to resent a shot on his skull. Mr. Oswell did not get a chance to fire at a vulnerable point, and as the animals continued to approach he determined to try a run past them, trusting to their bad eyesight to enable him to escape. "He brushed close to one of them in his rush to escape, but a loud snort told him he had been seen. He turned and fired, and the next moment felt himself impaled on the animal's horn. "His next sensation was that of being on the back of a pony which was led by one of his men. He angrily inquired why they were not following the track of the beast; but hardly had he spoken before he discovered that his hand, which had been resting on his side, was full of clotted blood, and he met his men, who had come from camp to bury him. He didn't need burying just then, but the wound required some time to heal, and he carried the scar for the rest of his life. [Illustration: RHINOCEROS HEADS.] "When Anderson killed his first rhinoceros he was wild with delight. Immediately on approaching his prostrate game he plunged his knife into its back, to ascertain if it was fat. The natives warned him not to repeat the experiment, as a short time before a native had done the same thing and got into serious trouble. The rhinoceros had been stunned instead of killed. The stroke of the knife revived him, and he rose and ran toward the river, with the unfortunate native clinging to his back. "The situation was anything but pleasant for the man, who dared not spring to the ground, for fear of being transfixed by the brute's horn, and ran the risk of being drowned if he stayed where he was till the river was reached. Happily the rhinoceros paused long enough to allow somebody else to send a shot that settled him and released the native from his free but involuntary ride." "His case reminds me," said Fred, "of a question I once heard proposed for a debating society in the country." "What is that?" said Frank. "'If a man is holding a tiger by the tail, which is the best for his personal safety--to hold on or let go?'" "A good deal might be said on both sides of that question," the Doctor remarked, "but perhaps the tiger would not permit a prolonged discussion. In one way the native on the rhinoceros had the advantage of the tiger man." "How was that?" "Why, the tiger might devour his caudal retainer, while the rhinoceros would not do so with his rider. He is strictly graminivorous, and never touches flesh to eat it. He devours grass, young trees, and similar things, and in this respect has quite a resemblance to the hippopotamus, whose cousin he is sometimes called." One of the boys asked if it was really true that the hide of the rhinoceros was impervious to bullets, except in a few places. The Doctor explained that an ordinary musket-ball, fired at a distance of fifty yards and more, had no effect, and even a rifle-ball might be deflected from most parts of this tough-hided beast. "It is no use to fire at the head with anything less than a cannon," he continued. "The only vulnerable point is about three inches behind the shoulder, and when a bullet is planted there at the proper angle it penetrates the lungs and causes death almost instantaneously. "The natives hunt the rhinoceros by driving him into pitfalls, and then piercing him with hundreds of spears. By the time they are through with the business he is stuck so full of the weapons that he resembles a gigantic porcupine, with quills on a colossal scale. The slaughter of a rhinoceros is a formidable affair with them, and they look with wonder on the weapons of the white man and the comparative ease with which this powerful animal is brought down by it. "One day, while Captain Speke was in the country of King Rumanika, he asked the monarch to allow him to hunt the rhinoceros. Of course the king was glad to have him do so, and sent two of his sons to manage the affair. They went to a thicket where the rhinoceros was said to abound, and as soon as Speke had taken up a good position the beaters went to work to drive out the game. "They roused up a fine old rhinoceros, which paused close to where the hunter was standing, and enabled him to creep up and give the beast a shot in the side. The animal trotted off, bleeding internally, and soon lay down and gave a chance for a finishing shot. A little time afterward three others were started; two of them were bagged by Speke, who ordered the heads cut off and sent to the king, as proofs of what the white man could do. [Illustration: SPEKE DELIVERING THE SPOILS OF HIS HUNT TO KING RUMANIKA.] "Speke then went home to breakfast. As soon as he was through with his meal he went to meet the king, who was just examining the trophies of the hunter's prowess. For a man to kill three of these huge beasts simply to get up an appetite for breakfast was too much for the king's equanimity, and he gave vent to his astonishment and admiration in no measured terms. "'This must have been done with something more potent than powder,' his majesty exclaimed; 'neither the Arabs nor N'anaji, although they talk of their shooting powers, could have accomplished such a great feat as this. It is no wonder the English are the greatest men in the world.' "Before we drop the topic of the rhinoceros," said the Doctor, "I must tell you about his horn, and some of the fables connected with it. "It was formerly gravely stated that the horn of the rhinoceros was ordinarily flexible, like the trunk of an elephant, and became stiffened into a weapon only when the beast was enraged. The story probably arose from the fact, as I have before stated, that the horn is not attached to the nose, but rests on a basis of bone connected with the skin. "The horn of the beast is a good substitute for ivory in some of its uses, and brings about half its price. It is used for making cups and other ornaments, and for the handles of knives and similar things. Shavings and scrapings of the horn were supposed to cure children of spasms and convulsions, and in former times it was supposed that cups of this material would detect the presence of poison. Several writers have affirmed this, and I believe the superstition still prevails among the Dutch settlers in Cape Colony. To show how this idea once prevailed let me quote from Kolbe, a German traveller and naturalist, who visited South Africa about two hundred years ago, and published an account of what he had seen in his wanderings. "'This horn,' he says, 'will not endure the touch of poison. I have often been a witness of this. Many people of fashion at the Cape have cups turned out of this rhinoceros-horn; some have them set in silver, and some in gold. If wine is poured into one of these cups it immediately rises and bubbles up, as though it were boiling; and if there be poison in it the cup immediately splits. If poison be put into one of these cups it in an instant flies to pieces. Though this matter is known to thousands of persons, yet some writers have affirmed that the rhinoceros horn has no such virtue.'" "There's a word in our language," said Fred, "which begins with the letter L, which might apply to Kolbe, the German traveller. But it isn't altogether a polite one, and so we'll call him a deliberate romancer." "He ought to have a niche by the side of Sir John Mandeville and others of his kind," said Frank. "Sir John describes the cotton-plant as having eyes, ears, and horns, and bleating like a sheep; and he tells how he successfully tried the experiment of raising young diamonds from a pair of old ones, with other interesting experiences, which are set down with sober earnest. "But you must remember," said the Doctor, "that in the time of these old travellers they had everything their own way, as they were in no danger of contradiction. Besides, the spirit of the age demanded something marvellous, and if a traveller came home and told the story of his journey without filling it with goblins, fairies, dragons, and similar impossible things, he was charged with having seen nothing, and quite likely his neighbors would assert that during all the time of his pretended absence he was remaining quietly at home. "Nowadays the world is so well known that the romancing traveller is speedily detected, and his fictions meet a deserved exposure. Explorers follow each other so rapidly that no untruthful story can remain long without contradiction, and we may fairly conclude that the day of the marvellous in travellers' tales has substantially ended." [Illustration: IN CAPTIVITY.] CHAPTER XXVII. RETURN TO RUBAGA.--FAREWELL TO M'TESA.--VOYAGE DOWN THE VICTORIA N'YANZA. [Illustration: VILLAGE AND VILLAGERS.] Our friends crossed to the other bank of the river and made a short excursion into the Usoga country. They visited several of the native villages, but saw nothing remarkable in any of them. Abdul said it would not be altogether safe to go far from the bank of the Nile, as the natives had a reputation for treachery; and though they were at peace with M'tesa they had no great love for him, and might not hesitate to make trouble for his guests. A little before nightfall they returned to the falls, and crossed the river again to the other shore. The camp had been formed on the southern side of the point, where the boats were brought to land in descending from the lake. As a matter of precaution the boats were partly drawn on shore, so that they could not be carried away by stealth during the night. The boys slept within sound of the falls, and they both agreed in the morning that the rippling of the waters was the most agreeable music they had heard for many a day. Just about daybreak they were roused by Ali, who crept softly to their side and said there were suspicious movements among the natives on the opposite bank, and the Doctor had given orders for them to be awakened. They were up in an instant and seized their rifles, prepared to enter into a fierce battle and repel an attack of the blood-thirsty natives of Central Africa. The alarm proved to be of brief duration. It turned out that the natives had no hostile intentions--at least, they disclaimed anything of the kind--but the movements on the bank were caused by their driving their stock down to be watered. To prove the truth of their declaration, a large herd of cows and oxen soon made its appearance and crowded into the water, as if suffering from thirst. The cattle having drank their fill the herd was driven back, and soon disappeared altogether. Abdul said it was all very well for the natives to declare that their intentions were pacific, but he observed they all carried spears, and many of them were equipped with shields and battle-lances, as though they expected to do something more than take care of domestic cattle. Probably the fact that the party from Rubaga was on the alert, and had their boats drawn up in a secure place, prevented an attack. The people of Usoga have had sufficient acquaintance with the weapons of the white man to know they could not cross the river in face of the rifles of Doctor Bronson and his party without suffering severely in the minutes required for the transit. The forenoon was passed in camp. A little past the meridian the baggage that had been unloaded was again placed in the boats, and the flotilla headed for Uvima Island, which had been selected as the place for passing the night. Several canoes were out on the Usoga side of the river, but they kept at a respectful distance, though two of them followed the party an hour or more as they held their course along the channel. The same precautions were observed as on the previous night, and if the natives had any idea of making an attack and capturing a lot of valuable property they were sadly disappointed. At all events, they showed discretion in holding aloof. They would have met a warm reception, but the warmth would have been of a character they did not desire. [Illustration: AN UNPLEASANT ENCOUNTER.] Just before starting to continue the journey one of the Doctor's boats paddled away to the eastward a few hundred yards, to let the Usoga people know they were not afraid of them. Evidently the others had the same idea, as two of their boats paddled out from the shore, the men shouting in accents the reverse of friendly. The boats met in the middle of the channel, and for a few moments oars and spears were brandished, and there was good promise of a fight. The Doctor told Abdul to shout with all his might to call back the boat and prevent any bloodshed. For a little while it looked as though he would be unable to do so, and it became necessary to fire a few shots in the air. This had the desired effect, the one party taking it as a signal of recall, and the other as an intimation that hostilities would provoke a free use of the dreaded rifles. The boat came back, and after a sound lecturing from the Doctor, and promises "not to do so again," its captain was ordered to take his place in line for the return to Rubaga. There was no incident of consequence on the return to Usavara. The flotilla was arranged in a manner varying somewhat from that of the outward journey. As they were going toward home there was no fear that anybody would stray from his position, and consequently Ali and Abdul were placed in the leading boat, while our three friends were in the one that brought up the rear. They were thus able to talk over their plans for the future, and utilize the time of the voyage far better than if they had been in different boats. Of course the boys were eager to know what plan the Doctor had formed for their route from Rubaga, and as soon as they were fairly under way he proceeded to gratify their curiosity on the subject. "We will leave the boats at Usavara," said he, "and go at once to Rubaga to thank the king for his kindness, and ask him to put us under farther obligations. Have you ever heard a definition of 'gratitude' that is not to be found in any authorized dictionary?" "I think I have," answered Frank. "It says, 'Gratitude is a lively anticipation of favors to come.'" "That is exactly our case," replied Doctor Bronson. "M'tesa has been so kind to lend us his boats for visiting the falls, that I intend asking permission to retain them for a voyage down the lake." "After all," said Fred, "it won't cost him anything to do so, as we pay all the expenses of the voyage. Besides, he knows he will receive additional presents if he grants your request, and instead of being out of pocket he will gain by the transaction." "I have considered all that," was the response to the youth's remark, "and see no difficulty, except that he may fear trouble with some of the rulers beyond his territory. They might regard the arrival of a fleet of M'tesa's boats as an act of war, and consequently both he and ourselves might get into trouble. However, we can lay the matter before him, and he will probably give us an answer the next morning." "What will we do if he refuses?" Fred asked. "In that case," replied the Doctor, "we will continue our journey southward by land. It will be longer and more difficult than if we went by water, but it will not interfere seriously with our plans if he declines my request. "I intend going from here to Ujiji, on Lake Tanganyika," the Doctor continued; "and if you look at the map you can see that it will save considerable land-travel, if we can follow the lake to its southern extremity, in the country of Usukuma." Saying this, he opened the map and pointed out the route followed by Stanley, and also that of Speke and other travellers. The boys studied it attentively for several minutes, and in the mean while the Doctor was busy with several memoranda in his note-book. We will leave their plans for the present and wait for their development after the visit to M'tesa. [Illustration: ANTELOPES AMONG THE MARSHES NEAR USAVARA.] The boats arrived safely at Usavara, and the Doctor, accompanied by Frank, started at once for Rubaga to see the king. Fred was left in charge of the property of the expedition, and it was understood that a messenger would be despatched immediately in case anything went wrong. Doctor Bronson was to notify Fred in the same way as soon as the king made his decision, and it was hoped that the detention, in any event, would not be more than a week at farthest. There was bad news about the horses. One had died during the absence of the party, and the others were suffering from the effects of the climate, and so feeble that they gave no promise of future usefulness. The Doctor decided to leave them, and his decision was eminently sensible, in view of the difficulties of moving them. The donkeys were all right, and manifested their condition by kicking spitefully whenever anybody came within range of their heels. The Doctor sent a messenger to the king announcing his arrival, and was immediately summoned to an audience with his majesty. It was late in the afternoon when the audience was held, and it lasted nearly an hour. The king desired to know all that his visitors had seen and done during their absence, and the Doctor gave him a full account of everything that had happened. When he came to the incident of the encounter of the boats the king was specially pleased to know that hostilities had been avoided under circumstances that gave such fine promise of a fight. He said it was all owing to the firmness of Doctor Bronson in recalling the boat at the critical moment, but he should have expected nothing more, as the white man was able to do anything. This was a good time to make the request for the use of the boats to go to the southern end of the lake. The Doctor was not slow to see his opportunity, and at once propounded the question. As had been expected, M'tesa was not prepared to give an answer, but he promised to do so on the following morning. Then he rose from his seat, and the audience was over. The next morning there was a great assemblage in front of the palace, and an unusual tooting of horns and pounding of drums. It was evident that the reception at court would be of no ordinary character. In due time a messenger came to announce that the king was ready for the visit of his American friends, and they went at once to court. As they entered the audience-hall they saw a group of men whose dress showed that they were not people of Ugunda. Abdul whispered that they were from the south; but there was no time for farther explanation, as the business of the visit was opened at once by the king. "You want boats to go to the end of the N'yanza?" said his majesty. The Doctor answered that such was his wish. "How many boats do you want?" was the next royal interrogatory. The Doctor thought that two or three boats, in addition to the ten which carried him to Ripon Falls, would be quite sufficient. "Well," answered the king, "we have decided. You shall have the boats; but you must know it is the first time this request was ever granted." Frank thought it was probably the first time the request had ever been made, and therefore the king's assertion was not likely to be at variance with the truth. "There is much danger in going the way you wish," continued M'tesa, "as the people on some of the islands are hostile, and may attack you. If I should lose my boats and men it would be very serious to me and to you." There was no denying the correctness of this proposition, and the Doctor waited for the king to proceed. [Illustration: NATIVE OF UNYAMWEZI.] "But I am friendly with the King of Unyamwezi, at the other end of the N'yanza, and these strange people you see here are a delegation from him. They arrived here four days ago, and are now ready to go back to their country. They came by the N'yanza, and their boats will accompany those that I shall send to carry you and your friends and property." It naturally occurred to Doctor Bronson that there could not be any great danger in going by the lake route, if this delegation from Unyamwezi had just traversed it. But he kept his thoughts to himself, and continued to do so while the king enlarged upon the perils of the journey. It was very evident that M'tesa was bent on driving a sharp bargain. We must remember that he was a negro and in Africa, and therefore he was expected to make the most of his opportunities. If he had been a white man, and in America--a New York hackman, for instance, or the owner of a baggage-wagon on "moving-day"--he would have been a model of generosity, and offered the use of his boats for nothing. During the absence of the party in the excursion to Ripon Falls he had a chance to think over the situation and make up his mind what he wanted. He had overcome his fear of the telephone, and from entertaining a superstitious dread of the "magic talker" he had developed a great desire for it. In return for the use of his boats he wanted the telephone instruments, and desired them arranged so as to connect his audience-hall with his harem. Then he wanted a certain amount of cloth, brass wire, beads, and other African trinkets, but more than all else he wanted fire-arms and ammunition. As he had already received a shot-gun and a rifle, the latter with a supply of explosive bullets, Doctor Bronson thought his demand was a trifle exorbitant. However, a rifle was added to the list of presents, and also a case of ammunition, and the Doctor promised to send another rifle by the boats in case he was carried through to Unyamwezi without accident or delay. The bargain was concluded by turning the king's attention to the magic talker and asking him where it should be set up. He designated a place close to his throne for one end, and his private apartment for the other; and then the audience ended with an agreement that porters should be ready to carry the baggage to Usavara the next day, when our friends would come for their final leave-taking. Frank and Abdul were occupied for a couple of hours in the afternoon, aided by several natives, in setting up the telephone-wire and attaching the instruments to the wall. When it was all arranged the king came into the audience-hall and talked for some time with his wives at the other end of the line. Frank cautioned him not to use it too often, lest the magic should get tired. His great fear was that the apparatus might be deranged by careless and ignorant handling before its novelty was gone, and especially before they were out of M'tesa's country. The final audience was held at eight o'clock the next morning. There were expressions of good-will on both sides, and the king shook hands with his departing guests in true European fashion. The porters were all ready at the Doctor's zeriba, and in less time than our friends had expected the loads were on the backs of the men and on the road to Usavara. It was nearly dusk when they arrived at the lake, and found Fred waiting to receive them. The loads were piled in front of the huts and placed under guard for the night. Dinner was served in Fred's tent, and the orders were given for loading the boats at daylight. Everybody retired early, so as to be up in good season and get the flotilla under way before the sun reached the meridian. By eleven o'clock the last load was in place, the crews were on board, and the signal for departure was given. They received the same noisy "send-off" as on the day they started for Ripon Falls, with the exception that there were more drums, and consequently more of what the drummers were pleased to call music. The men rowed hard, under the promise of an extra ration of fish if they would reach Sessé Island before sunset. Doctor Bronson desired to camp on Sessé for the night, and of course the earlier he could arrive there the better it would be for the whole party. The captains of the boats thought it would be a long journey, and proposed stopping at a smaller island ten miles north of Sessé; but the matter was quickly settled by Doctor Bronson's proposition of extra rations to the men and a present for each of the captains. The plan worked so well that it was continued during the journey, and was always successful. [Illustration: NATIVES OF THE ISLANDS.] Sessé is described by Stanley as an island about forty miles long by twenty in width. The principal canoe-builders and the greater number of sailors of M'tesa's kingdom live at Sessé. They are blacker than the people of the main-land, less intelligent, and not at all brave. They are good sailors, and capable of much endurance, but have so many superstitions concerning the demons which are supposed to inhabit the lake that they are easily frightened when there is the least indication of a storm. Doctor Bronson was true to his promise, and bought a liberal supply of fish for distribution among the crews of the boats. They had a grand festival in the evening, and continued it so late that the Doctor feared they would be of little use on the next day. But an African has great digestive and recuperative powers, and the men proved all right in the morning and ready for fresh work, much to the relief of their employers. Several broken oars were replaced at Sessé, and, as some of the crews were a man or two short of their complement, a dozen sailors were engaged for the voyage to the end of the lake. The Doctor embraced the opportunity, too, of purchasing an extra supply of bananas, which were promised to the men on condition of reaching Dumo an hour before sunset, which they did. Dumo is a small village on the main-land opposite the southern extremity of Sessé. It belongs to M'tesa's province of Uddu, and its inhabitants are chiefly engaged in fishing. [Illustration: BOATS FOR LAKE NAVIGATION.] During the hour that remained Frank and Fred climbed a rocky hill just back of the village, having been impelled to do so by a paragraph in Stanley's book. To the east they had a fine survey of the lake, but could not make out the opposite shore, so that the view reminded them of the ocean. On the west they saw a range of hills and a rolling country, which Frank thought would make an excellent pasture for a large herd of cattle. The people of Dumo were civil enough to the visitors, and readily sold whatever they desired to purchase. Early in the morning the population was increased by the arrival of a good many natives from the villages a short distance in the interior. They brought goats, chickens, eggs, bananas, tobacco, spear-heads, baskets, and other things, to exchange for fish, either fresh or dried. It turned out, on inquiry, that it was a _soko_, or market-day; and Frank and Fred considered themselves fortunate in happening on a market-day in an African village. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN SOKO.] Some of the dealers sat on the ground in front of the baskets containing their wares, while others walked about with their burdens on their heads or supported in their arms. There was a great deal of chattering and loud talk, but the utmost good-nature prevailed; and every few moments a loud laugh was evoked by the witticisms of the natives in conversation, or by a practical joke played by some of the would-be venders or purchasers. Beads were the principal currency, but they were not universal, and sometimes it happened that a seller would only accept a certain article that he wanted. Frank was reminded of a story told by Cameron while trying to hire a boat somewhere on the shore of Lake Tanganyika, and which is thus related by the explorer: "The owner of the boat wished to be paid in ivory, of which I had none; but I found that Mohammed ibn Salib had ivory, and wanted cloth. Still, as I had no cloth, this did not assist me greatly until I heard that Mohammed ibn Garib had cloth, and wanted wire, which I, fortunately, possessed. So I gave Mohammed ibn Garib the requisite amount in wire, upon which he handed over cloth to Mohammed ibn Salib, who in his turn gave the owner of the boat the wished-for ivory, and the craft was turned over to me." "In this little transaction," said Frank, "you can see the use of money. There was no circulating medium where Captain Cameron was trying to hire the boat, and consequently a great deal of time was lost in making the various negotiations." "You will find," said the Doctor, "that the most of the people of Africa have some sort of circulating medium; we have already seen how the tusk of the elephant is a standard of value, and how shells, beads, cloth, and other African goods have a more or less fixed rate. There are few places on the continent where it is necessary to traffic in the manner described by Cameron, and the number is steadily diminishing." [Illustration: ARMS AND ORNAMENTS.] CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ALEXANDRA NILE.--FRED'S DESCRIPTION OF THE WEST COAST OF AFRICA. From Dumo they continued their course to the southward, passing a crescent-shaped bay, bordered by a dense forest and backed by a semicircle of hills. Beyond this bay they turned a headland, and a few minutes afterward Fred observed that the water was of a darker color than they had hitherto found it. "According to the map," said the Doctor, "this is the Bay of Usongora; the Alexandra Nile empties into it, and its waters, rolling through an alluvial country, are charged with earthy matter, which gives it the color you perceive." Frank wished to ascend the river; but the Doctor said they could not do so, as it would not be in accordance with their agreement with M'tesa to attempt any explorations. They passed near enough to the mouth of the river to see that it was about one hundred and fifty yards wide, and by the way the water flowed into the lake there was evidently a considerable volume of it. Stanley ascended the river about three miles, and said he found the current so strong that his boats made very slow progress, and he was obliged to give up the attempt. The plain on each side of the river in the portion near the lake is from five to ten miles wide, and in the season of high water it is completely overflowed. The Alexandra Nile is the largest of the affluents of the Victoria N'yanza; the second largest river flowing into it is the Shimeeyu, and the two streams together are estimated to be nearly equal to the volume of water that passes Ripon Falls. Most of the natives call the Alexandra Nile "the mother of the river at Jinja," or the Ripon Falls. [Illustration: VIEW OF THE UPLANDS IN KARAGUÉ.] The kingdom of Ugunda terminates at the Alexandra Nile, which is its southern boundary; but the kingdoms of Karagué and Usongora, which lie beyond it, are subject to M'tesa, having been conquered by him during the early part of his reign. The manners and customs of the people of the two provinces are much like those of Ugunda; they live principally by cultivating the banana and other edible things of the tropics, and in the chase of the lion and elephant they display a good deal of courage. They are usually hospitable to strangers; but their chiefs are apt to exact a heavy tribute, in one way and another, from all who pass through their territory. Speke found the King of Karagué very obliging, and was plundered much less than he had expected to be. Other travellers have spoken well of the country, which they describe as an upland region, diversified with dense forests and open plains, the latter covered with tall grass, and giving promise of great fertility. The natives have large herds of cattle, sheep, and goats; the cattle are said to be of a superior breed, and their horns grow to an unusual size. A cow's horn was given to Speke that proved to be three feet five inches long, and nearly nineteen inches in circumference at the base. Stanley describes Rumanika, King of Karagué, as a finely-formed man, at least six feet six inches in height, as the top of the explorer's head when they walked side by side only reached to the king's shoulders. His face was long, with a nose of Roman shape, and his profile was decidedly of a refined type. He was a gentle savage, fond of receiving strangers, and desirous of supplying all the information they desired. What he lacked in knowledge he made up in imagination, as he told Stanley of a race of dwarfs only two feet in height dwelling in the region west of Karagué, while in Uriambwa there was a race of small people with tails. He closed his story with the statement that some of his subjects had seen in those far-off lands a strange people, who had long ears descending to their feet: one ear formed a mat for the owner to sleep on, and the other served to cover him from the cold, like a dressed hide. "They tried to coax one of them to come and see me," said the king, "but the journey was long, and he died on the way." From the mouth of the Alexandra Nile our friends continued their voyage along the coast, halting at islands, or at villages on the main-land, whenever it was necessary to rest the men or purchase provisions. Frank wanted to visit Alice Island, which Stanley made famous, but Doctor Bronson said it was too far out of their track. Alice Island is about thirty miles from the coast, and directly opposite the large village of Makongo, and its inhabitants are a timid and inoffensive race of fishermen. Fred asked why it was called "Alice" Island. "Don't you remember," said Frank, "that it was so named by Stanley in honor of his boat, the _Lady Alice_?" "Certainly I do," was the reply, "but for the moment I had forgotten it. Wouldn't it be nice if we had a boat like the _Lady Alice_ for navigating the lake?" "Of course it would," responded Frank; "but we haven't anything of the kind, and are getting along very well with the boats of King M'tesa." [Illustration: THE "LADY ALICE," IN SECTIONS.] "The _Lady Alice_," he continued, "was an invention of Stanley, and served his purpose admirably. She was forty feet long, six feet beam, and thirty inches deep, built of Spanish cedar, three-eighths of an inch in thickness. When finished she was separated into five sections, each of them eight feet long, so that she could be carried by porters from the coast to the Victoria N'yanza, and from one lake to another. Stanley launched the _Lady Alice_ on the Victoria N'yanza, which he circumnavigated. Afterward he made a similar voyage around Lake Tanganyika; and in the same boat he descended a portion of the Congo, or Livingstone, till he was compelled to abandon her on reaching the great falls of that river." "I remember now," said Fred, "that he went from Alice Island to Bumbireh, where he had a fight with the natives, and came near losing his life. That must be Bumbireh right ahead of us, I suppose?" "Yes," answered the Doctor, to whom the remark was partially addressed, "that is Bumbireh; but we will not land there, and run the risk of a reception similar to that of Stanley. We will pass along the channel between the large island and the main-land, and what we see of Bumbireh will be from our places in the boat." They moved steadily down the channel, and the boys made note of the fact that the island was fifteen or twenty miles long, and that the greater part of it was densely wooded. Near the water there was a strip of beach, sometimes broken by shelving rocks. Where the beach was sandy canoes were frequently visible, the most of them drawn up quite high and dry out of the water. Groups of natives came down to gaze upon the passing flotilla, and at one point there was a movement which indicated a possibility of hostilities. Several natives ran wildly up and down the sands, gesticulating violently, and evidently calling others to come out from the huts in the forest and make ready for a fight. Two or three canoes were pushed into the water, but nobody ventured to attack the flotilla. The islanders were doubtless restrained by motives of prudence, as they could easily see the white men in the boats, and they were well aware that the white men's weapons are not to be despised. After passing Bumbireh the expedition halted on a small island which was without inhabitants; but our friends were able to purchase all the fish they wanted from some boats which they encountered in the vicinity. They were now at the southern end of the N'yanza, and another day's run carried them to M'salala, which was at the end of a narrow gulf extending inland several miles, and was the limit of their boat journey. We will leave our friends to get on shore, discharge the boats, and start them on their return to M'tesa, while we repeat some of their conversation during the voyage. While they were returning from Ripon Falls to Rubaga, Doctor Bronson told Fred he would like to have him read up the description of the West Coast of Africa on the first opportunity, and be able to give a brief account of it during their southward voyage. The halt at Usavara gave him the needed time, which he improved to advantage. They were not provided with a large number of books on that part of the country, but, fortunately, there were enough for his purpose. "The West Coast of Africa," said he, "is properly comprised between the Desert of Sahara and Cape Negro, the latter being about latitude 19° south. There are three divisions of this region, known as Senegambia, Upper Guinea, and Lower Guinea, and each of them comprises several native states, and nearly as many European possessions." "You can read all that in an encyclopædia or any good geography," said Frank, with a slight laugh. "Of course you can," retorted Fred; "but if you don't happen to have read it, and no one has told you, it is pretty certain to be news to you." Frank admitted the correctness of Fred's statement and the story was continued. "The English have a settlement at Bathurst, on the Gambia River, and there are other small settlements near it. There is another settlement, called Sierra Leone, on a peninsula eighteen miles long by twelve in width. The Danes and Dutch formerly had settlements along the coast, but they ceded them to England, the former in 1850, and the latter in 1872. The Spaniards once held quite an extent of coast, but at present their only possession is the island of Fernando Po, which they use as a convict station. "The Portuguese still have control of a large extent of country--at least, nominally--and they have several small ports where they do quite a trade in palm-oil, india-rubber, ivory, gold, and other products of Africa. They formerly dealt in slaves, but have followed the fashion of England and abolished the slave-trade--at least, in name. But a great deal of the traffic is kept up at the present time, the slaves being taken south from interior stations in the Portuguese possessions and sold to the Kaffirs, instead of being brought to the coast. [Illustration: NATIVE VILLAGE ON THE GOLD COAST.] "The English and French are now the only great nations with settlements of any consequence in Western Africa. The principal stations of the French are at Assinee, on the Gold Coast, and at Gaboon, on the river of the same name. In the north-west they have settlements on the Senegal River, where they have spent a great deal of money and wasted the lives of many Frenchmen without much advantage. Quite recently they have made an effort to establish a colony on the Livingstone, by supporting an Italian adventurer named De Brazza, who claims to have secured a grant of territory from a native chief. [Illustration: CAPE COAST CASTLE.] "The foreign settlements are chiefly for purposes of trade; and as they have been placed there in most instances against the will of the natives, and are liable at any time to be assaulted, they are generally protected by fortifications. One of the strongest of these is Cape Coast Castle. The English settled there more than two hundred years ago, and established themselves on a rocky point, where they were quite safe from the natives, and could make good resistance to a European foe. The Dutch had a fortress called Elmina only a short distance from Cape Coast Castle, and sometimes the garrisons were not on friendly terms, owing to the different policies pursued by the English and Dutch." "But you haven't said anything about Liberia," said Frank. "You know that in the United States we have heard a great deal about Liberia, which was settled by negroes liberated from slavery in our country and other parts of America." "I'm coming to that," replied Fred. "The first settlement of the kind was Sierra Leone, which was founded in 1787, with a colony of five hundred destitute negroes sent from London by some charitable people who wanted to help them along. A few years later one thousand liberated slaves from Nova Scotia were sent there, and in succeeding years there was an immigration of several thousand negroes from the West Indies. When the British cruisers began to capture slave-ships they took all the captives to Sierra Leone and set them free. That's the way the colony was peopled, and it now has about forty thousand inhabitants, of whom only a little more than a hundred are Europeans. It has schools, churches, a theological college, and other educational institutions, and the people are as intelligent as those of any European city." Frank asked what was the religion of the people of Sierra Leone. "There is a bishop of the Church of England," replied Fred, "and there are nearly a hundred ordained ministers, but they have not been very successful in converting the negroes. The most of the inhabitants are Moslems, and it has been found much easier to convert them to Mohammedanism than to Christianity. "Now for Liberia," he continued. "The first settlement in the republic was made in 1820 by the American Colonization Society, which sent some emancipated negroes there. A 'declaration of independence' was made in 1847, and the Republic of Liberia was organized much after the form of the United States. The President holds office four years, the same as with us; there is a regular staff of cabinet officers, and a Senate and House of Representatives. The country extends about six hundred miles along the coast, and has a population of seven hundred and twenty thousand. Seven hundred thousand of them are aborigines, and the rest are negroes from the United States, and their descendants. [Illustration: MONROVIA, LIBERIA.] "Monrovia, the capital of Liberia, contains about thirteen thousand inhabitants, and has schools, colleges, churches, and the like, similar to Sierra Leone. The colony has been fairly prosperous, and the republic has made treaties of commerce with the principal nations of Europe and America. If you want to know more about it there are several books which give its history in detail." Frank said he had heard quite as much as he was likely to remember, and with this remark the lesson on the history of the colonies of Sierra Leone and Liberia came to an end. The Doctor asked Fred what he had learned relative to the healthiness of the African coast, or rather of that part of it which was under discussion. [Illustration: FREE TOWN, SIERRA LEONE.] "As to that," replied Fred, "there is no healthiness at all for the white man, but, 'on the contrary, quite the reverse.' From February to December, 1871, of the ninety-eight European residents at Free-town, in Sierra Leone, twenty-four died, and in other years the mortality has been in nearly the same proportion. Other points along the coast are pretty nearly as fatal to the white visitor, and also to the negro born and reared in temperate climates. Strangers soon after their arrival are attacked with a fever which seems to be caused by the malarious exhalations from the earth. The fever shows itself by loss of appetite, pains in the back, severe and long-continued headache, together with gastric troubles that develop into bilious remittent fever. Sometimes it yields to medical treatment, but more frequently it develops into the dreaded African fever, which is marked by intense headache and delirium. In this stage it is frequently fatal. The negro who escapes can consider himself acclimated; but the white man is liable to a return of the disease, as the first attack does not secure him against subsequent ones." "A very good lecture on the African fever," said the Doctor. "I don't think you are likely to encourage emigration in the direction of the Gold Coast." Fred bowed his acknowledgment of the Doctor's compliment, and said the more he read and heard of the West Coast of Africa, the less was his desire to go there, even for a very brief visit. [Illustration: A STREET IN COOMASSIE.] "Now I'll tell you about Ashantee," he continued. "I've been reading about it in Stanley's 'Coomassie and Magdala,' and other books, and am ready to set up as an authority on the subject." Frank nodded his readiness to hear about the land of King Coffee, the warlike ruler who gave the British government a great deal of trouble in 1874, and who held out till his capital was burned, after the defeat of his army and his narrow escape from capture. [Illustration: A VILLAGE IN ASHANTEE.] "Ashantee," said Fred, "is a kingdom whose boundaries are not very well defined; it has a population estimated at not less than three millions, and its government is a despotism of the most arbitrary character. "The king has the power of life and death over all his subjects; he is the owner of a great part of the country, and is regarded as the natural heir of everybody. When a subject dies the king takes everything he wants, and leaves the rest to the dead man's relatives. He usually shows his generosity by taking whatever unwrought gold there may happen to be on the estate, and relinquishes his claims to ornaments, furniture, and other effects. He collects a tax of twenty per cent. on all gold manufactured in the country, and in addition to this he has a large revenue from the mines where the precious metal is obtained." "The king evidently has a nice time of it," said Frank; "and if ever the choice of a throne is offered to me I'll keep Ashantee in mind." "Perhaps you won't care for it so much," Fred answered, "when I tell you that the king is in constant fear of his life, as he never knows what plots may be formed for his assassination. Existing only by tyranny, he is subject to the same rule as other tyrants, and is liable to be overthrown at any moment. [Illustration: "YOUNG GUINEA."] "The two great institutions of Ashantee are slavery and polygamy. Some rich men own a thousand slaves each, and the king has many thousands of them at his command. In the matter of marriage he is under restrictions, as he is only permitted to have three thousand three hundred and thirty-three wives. No doubt he would like to have more, but the custom of the country forbids him to do so." Frank wanted to know if the king went out to walk often, and took his family along. "Probably not," replied Fred, "as the wives of the king are really laborers on his plantations, or at least the most of them are. During the working season they are scattered where their work is needed, but at other times they occupy two streets in the capital city, where they are secluded from the gaze of all except the king and his female slaves. Any man who looks upon one of them even by accident must suffer death. [Illustration: FANTEE GENTLEMAN AND SOLDIER.] "Until the slave-trade was suppressed on the coast of Western Africa, Ashantee had a thriving business in selling prisoners of war or disposing of its surplus population, but of late years this commerce has been cut off, and the country has been restricted to dealings in gold and other products of the land. It is separated from the coast by the country of the Fantees, who are hostile to the Ashantees, and frequently at war with them. On two occasions, when the English have supported the Fantees in hostilities against the Ashantees, the latter have marched large armies to the coast and threatened the safety of Cape Coast Castle and Elmina. Once they actually compelled the British governor to make terms of peace, and in 1824 they defeated a British army, and killed the commander and nearly all his officers. [Illustration: THE BURNING OF COOMASSIE.] "Things went on in a very unsatisfactory way till 1873, when the Dutch fort of Elmina and the surrounding possessions were ceded to the English. The Dutch had paid the King of Ashantee a tribute of £500 a year, which the English discontinued. Thereupon the king sent an army to collect it, but he was defeated, though not driven back. In 1874 Sir Garnet Wolseley was sent there with two thousand English troops. To these he added a large force of Fantees, with which he invaded Ashantee and burned Coomassie, its capital city. Two severe battles were fought, and in the second of them the king commanded in person, and only retreated after a fight of six hours. "This is the famous 'Ashantee war' of which we read a few years ago. The treaty of peace which followed the burning of Coomassie required the king to pay an indemnity of fifty thousand ounces of gold, keep a road open to the coast, and abolish human sacrifices." "I have read about these sacrifices," said Frank. "It is stated somewhere that at least a thousand slaves were sacrificed every year, in a certain grove near the king's palace at Coomassie." "That is the case," replied Doctor Bronson, "and the worst of the story is not told. It was the custom, on occasions of festivity or mourning--in fact, on every affair of publicity--to kill a certain number of victims. If slaves were convenient they were selected to be offered up; but it often happened that the immediate attendants of the king were taken at an instant's notice. A traveller tells that one day two messengers came to inform the king of the discovery of a new gold-mine, and brought samples of the gold produced by it. "The king looked at the gold with evident pleasure, and then ordered a sacrifice in honor of the discovery. The most convenient victims were the two messengers. They were immediately seized and taken to the sacrificial grove, where they were given to the Ashantee divinities, with the customary ceremonies." [Illustration: A BELLE OF THE GUINEA COAST.] "What a horrid custom!" exclaimed Frank. "The English did a good thing for humanity in putting an end to it. Have they ever sent missionaries among the people?" "They have done so," was the reply, "but with very poor success. Some Ashantees have become Christians, but only a very few, and the missionaries have become discouraged. Quite lately there have been reports that Moslem missionaries have come from Central Africa and attempted to convert the Ashantees to their faith. They are said to be meeting with good success, and possibly before many years the whole nation will become Mohammedans. Anything is better than the horrid paganism that formerly prevailed. However much Mohammedanism is behind Christianity, as Stanley explained to King M'tesa, it is vastly better than the old religions of Africa, with their wanton disregard of human life." "I suppose," said Frank, "that the gold from this part of Africa is the 'Guinea gold' which we often read about?" "Quite right," was the reply. "Guinea gold was known in Europe long before gold from America, and the golden guineas of England were made from it. No guineas are coined now, and the piece of twenty-one shillings is not in circulation. London tradesmen, especially when dealing with foreigners, like to reckon prices in guineas, as they can thereby add five per cent. to their figures, since the stranger does not always mark the difference between guineas and sovereigns." The arrival of the boat at the point where the camp was to be made for the night brought the conversation to an end. [Illustration: VIEW OF ELMINA, ON THE GOLD COAST.] CHAPTER XXIX. A DESCRIPTION OF SOUTH AFRICA.--ENGLISH COLONIES.--OSTRICH FARMING. Frank determined not to be outdone by Fred in describing parts of Africa which they were not likely to visit in their journey. At the first opportunity he opened their limited store of books and proceeded to inform himself concerning South Africa, or that part of the continent between the twentieth parallel of south latitude and the Cape of Good Hope. A day's careful reading gave him a good stock of knowledge, which he promptly conveyed to his cousin. "It isn't a very dark region," said he, "as it has been settled and colonized, and has a good many marks of civilization. It has railways and stage lines, telegraphs and newspapers, hotels and factories, together with many other things you would hardly expect to find. It was once a fine hunting-ground for the great game of Africa, but at present the wild animals are difficult to find, as the most of them have been killed or driven off. "Cumming, Anderson, Baldwin, and others have given us accounts of their adventures. Some of their stories convey the impression that the country was once so thickly inhabited by wild beasts that it was impossible to take a walk before breakfast without encountering a lion or an elephant, a rhinoceros or a giraffe. That happy time is gone forever, and the greater part of South Africa is delivered from the dangers that made it so fascinating to the lovers of destruction. "To begin with," continued the youthful historian, "the most important part of South Africa is Cape Colony, better known to us as the Cape of Good Hope." [Illustration: NATIVE OF CAPE COLONY.] "It is important, I suppose," remarked Fred, "because it was settled before any other part of that end of the continent, and contains the greatest population." "Exactly so," responded Frank; "it was settled by the Dutch about 1650, and, with the exception of a few years, remained in their possession till 1806, when it fell into the hands of the English. At that time it had an area of one hundred and twenty thousand square miles, and a population of sixty-one thousand. Now it covers an area of three hundred thousand square miles, with a population of more than a million, according to the figures in Silver's 'Hand-book for South Africa' and other works." Fred asked how it happened that the area of the colony had increased so much since the English obtained possession of it. "Thereby hangs a tale," replied Frank, "and it is to some extent a tale of British oppression and cruelty. Previous to the English occupation of the Cape the colonists consisted of Dutch and French emigrants and their descendants. The former were known as Boers, from the Dutch word _boer_, a peasant, while the latter were mostly Huguenots, who had fled to escape religious persecution. They were never reconciled to the British rule, and in the year 1835 there was a general movement for emigrating to the wilderness and founding a republic of their own. [Illustration: EMIGRATING TO THE SOUTH AFRICAN WILDERNESS.] "They sold their farms, and with their cattle and household goods moved to the north of the Orange River and founded an independent colony, making for themselves new homes in the wilderness. A few years later, when their colony was fairly established, it was 'annexed' by the English. Again the Boers emigrated, and again they were annexed, and the same process was again repeated." "The nation that proclaims itself the champion of freedom was evidently opposed to the practice of it on the part of others," said Fred, as his cousin paused a moment in his story. "Yes," was the response; "it seems to me, and I believe a good many Englishmen are of the same opinion, that the conduct of the British government in its South African policy has been most tyrannical and utterly regardless of the rights of mankind. Ever since the beginning of the century it has oppressed the Boers, and refused to allow them to found colonies of their own. It has made war upon them time and again, for the sole offence of seeking their independence by emigration. In the recent troubles known as the 'Transvaal War' the Boers defended themselves bravely, and secured the admiration of the whole world. Their foes were compelled to admit the valor of the people who fought in defence of their rights, and a sentiment rapidly gained ground in England that the government was engaged in an unjust campaign." "It was to a certain extent a repetition of the story of the American colonies, and the war that led to their independence," said Fred. "In some of its features that was the case, but the result has been that England has gradually assumed control over all the region of South Africa. It has appropriated the Transvaal Republic and the Orange Free State, and the Boers have probably learned by this time that farther migration is useless. Some of the annexations have been under the pretence of a popular vote of the inhabitants; but the voting has generally been managed in such a way as to remind me of the story of the Western town in America that took its census one day when a large excursion party was there. It was thus enabled, by including all the excursionists, to show a large population. The English have managed to confine the voting to the mining districts and the towns where Englishmen were congregated, while the scattered farmers had no chance to express their opinions. "We'll drop the political question and take a glance at the country," continued Frank. "In Cape Colony there are four main lines of railway, one of them more than three hundred miles long, and another is under construction. The colony of Natal has a line of railway of its own, and they are building an iron road to connect the capital of the Transvaal with the ocean. Before the end of the century South Africa will have lost all the characteristics of the 'Dark Continent,' and be much like the settled portions of the United States. The exploits of Cumming and Anderson are as impossible there at present as are those of Daniel Boone and Kit Carson in our own land. [Illustration: THE "MARCH OF CIVILIZATION."] "Look at the map," said he as he spread it before his cousin, "and see how much it resembles that of a group of our own States." They spent half an hour or more in pointing out real or fancied similarities as their eyes ran over the outlines of the colonies and their numerous subdivisions. Fred was amused with many of the names of towns and districts, and Frank explained that they were mostly given by the Boers, and indicated how much those energetic colonists had been concerned in the settlement and development of the country. "Here is Pietermaritzburg," said Frank, "the chief town of Natal. It is compounded of the names of two famous Boer leaders in the struggle for independence--Pieter Retief and Gert Maritz. And here is Potscherfstroom, in Transvaal, a town which is intended to commemorate three popular men among the Boers, by taking a syllable from each of their names. They were Potgieter, Scherf, and Stockenstroom." "You can go on through the colonies," said he, "and find many names of similar origin. Everywhere that you traverse the country and enter the house of a Boer you will be hospitably welcomed, as soon as it is known you are not an Englishman; and you will find the host and his family plain, honest, pious, and industrious. Of course there are exceptions; but they only, like exceptions everywhere, serve to prove the rule. There is no people in the world more pious than the Boers. They have morning and evening devotions, and many of the families are in possession of the Bibles that their ancestors brought from Europe one or two hundred years ago. "South Africa is an agricultural and grazing region, and there are some curious facts connected with the growth of its industries. Seventy years ago the Governor of Cape Town threw two wagon-loads of wool into the sea, because there was no use for it. At present the value of the wool annually exported from Cape Colony is nearly twenty million dollars. Diamonds were discovered in 1868 on the banks of the Vaal River, and afterward in several other districts, and since then the diamond mines have attracted a great many people. The production has been so great that the diamond market of the world has been seriously affected. The precious stones have diminished considerably in value, but, fortunately for the owners of Brazilian and East Indian diamonds, those from South Africa are nearly all of them 'off color.'" [Illustration: SCENE IN THE SOUTH AFRICAN DIAMOND MINES.] "What do you mean by 'off color?'" Fred asked. "Why," was the reply, "I mean that they are rather '_on_ color.' The best diamonds are pure white, but nearly all of those from Africa have a yellowish tint, which greatly reduces their value. The stones from Brazil and India are of 'first water,' or colorless, and consequently their value has not materially suffered; but the case is different with yellow stones, which have lost three-fourths of their value since the African fields were opened. It is said there was quite a panic among the diamond owners when they saw what immense numbers of the stones came from Africa, and some of them predicted that diamonds would become as common as garnets or amethysts in a very few years. But of late the mines are said to have been exhausted, and the industry has greatly declined. "Another discovery of South Africa is the ostrich." "Nonsense!" exclaimed Fred. "The ostrich was known long before the English went to that country, and long before an Englishman ever existed. I believe it is mentioned in the Bible." "You didn't hear me through," said Frank. "I was going to say that the discovery of the possibility of domesticating ostriches and raising them, as we raise sheep or cattle, was made in South Africa." "How was that?" "Down to about twenty years ago ostriches were only known in a wild state, with the exception of a few that were held in menageries or otherwise kept as curiosities. Ostrich farming had been tried in Algeria, but with only partial success, and not to any great extent. The ostrich feathers which are so much prized, and sell for high figures, were obtained by hunting the wild birds in their desert homes. "Two hundred years ago these birds were so abundant in South Africa that they were often seen within a few miles of Cape Town, and a hunter could be reasonably certain of all the sport he wanted by going a few miles into the country. The colonization of the region has caused their disappearance, and anybody who wants them in a wild state must go to the deserts north of the Orange River, or to other unsettled portions of the continent. "The chase of the wild ostrich is now almost entirely in the hands of the aboriginals. The feathers obtained in this way are bought by traders, who go into the wilderness carrying such goods as the natives will accept. These they barter for the precious feathers, and when they have finished their traffic they return to the settlements with their valuable commodity." "Ostrich feathers command a high price," said Fred, "and I suppose the dealers find their trade very profitable." "So they do," Frank replied; "but the wild feathers are growing scarcer every year, and the traders do not confine themselves to buying them to the exclusion of everything else. A trader starts off with perhaps half a dozen wagons laden with guns, powder, blankets, beads, wire, knives, and other goods that meet the approval of the savage. On his return the wagons are filled with ivory, hippopotamus teeth, rhinoceros horns, and a varied lot of skins of wild animals, in addition to ostrich feathers. Sometimes a single wagon-load will be valued at fifty thousand dollars, and the larger the quantity of ostrich feathers the greater is its value." Fred asked how the feathers were sold, and what was the standard of their value. "They are carefully sorted according to their quality, and then sold by weight. Of course the price varies, like that of any other merchandise, and the business has its ups and downs, like everything else. The finest feathers are sometimes sold for three hundred dollars a pound, and two hundred dollars may be considered a fair price for a first-class article. The plumes from chickens sell for two or three dollars a pound. Between the highest and lowest prices, you see, there is a very wide range." "And you say the people at the Cape raise ostriches now as they would raise horses or sheep, do you?" Fred inquired. [Illustration: DRIVING A FLOCK OF OSTRICHES.] "Certainly I do," was the reply. "Ostrich farming has become a regular business, and a good many men have made fortunes by it. The first experiments were made in 1862. Three years later there were eighty tame ostriches in Cape Colony, and from that time the business grew very rapidly. In 1875 there were about fifty thousand birds in the hands of the farmers of South Africa, and five years later the number had more than doubled. It began in Cape Colony, and has spread through Natal, Transvaal, and the Orange River district, and has become a regular industry, like sheep or cattle raising. The profits are very great, and attempts are now being made to introduce ostrich farming into the United States." Fred asked how the farmers obtained the feathers from the captive birds. [Illustration: THE OSTRICH AND ITS HUNTERS.] "Very easily," Frank answered. "In the old way of hunting the ostrich it was necessary to kill the bird in order to obtain the feathers, and thus he yielded only a single crop. Under the present system the feathers are cut off when 'ripe,' and new ones grow in their places. These are cut off in time, and year after year fresh harvests are made, until the bird is too old to produce more. The first crop is taken when the bird is a year and a half old, and is worth about twenty dollars. After that time the annual yield of a bird is from forty to fifty dollars, and he continues to produce feathers till he is eighteen or twenty years old." [Illustration: HUNTING UNDER DISADVANTAGES.] "Very profitable stock to have on hand," said Fred. "But how does the ostrich like to have his feathers taken from him?" "At first he didn't like it, as they were 'plucked' or pulled out with pincers. At present the 'plucking' process has been abandoned for that of cutting, which is quite painless. The birds are driven into a yard, and the keeper goes among them with a pair of nippers, with which he severs the feathers about two inches from the base. When the birds are crowded close together they do not know what is being done, and stand quite still while the cutting is performed. If there are only a few of them it is necessary to throw a bag over the one that is being operated on, and he is then unable to make any opposition, or, at all events, he makes none. Three or four months after the feather has been cut the stump falls out, or can be easily removed, and then a new feather grows in its place." Here the Doctor joined in the conversation, as Frank showed signs of nearing the end of his stock of knowledge. He informed the youths that not only was cutting preferable to plucking, on account of its painlessness, but also because the feathers that were afterward produced were of a better quality. The new feathers that grew after plucking were apt to be twisted and distorted, so that they were greatly reduced in value, while those that grew after the other method were always well formed. If the farmers were not induced to follow the new system out of humanity to the bird, they were sure to be with regard to their pockets. "The tame ostriches run in pastures, under the care of native boys," continued Doctor Bronson, "very much as sheep or cattle would under similar circumstances. They want plenty of space, good food--but not too much of it--and must be driven to shelter from severe storms. A very small fence will keep them in bounds, and they will thrive on a soil altogether too barren for cattle or sheep. A great deal of land formerly regarded as worthless is now found highly profitable as a home for the ostrich herds." "Now, Fred," said the Doctor, "take a scrap of paper and figure up the profits of an ostrich farm." Fred prepared himself with materials for calculation, and the results caused his eyes to open with astonishment. "Let us start with a pair of birds three years old," said the Doctor, "and see how we come out in ten years. "Our birds at that age will lay about twenty eggs, and then proceed to hatch them. For the hatching process they require forty-two days--exactly twice as long as the common hen--and they take turns in sitting on the eggs. There is the same uncertainty with ostriches as with other birds in counting chickens before they are hatched, but we can fairly hope to get ten chickens from twenty eggs. The ostrich raises two broods in a year, so that at the end of the year we have twenty chickens. Next year twenty more, or ten pairs a year from the old birds, and so on, year after year. Then when the chicks are three years old they have broods of their own, and then--" Fred said he must take time to figure up the state of affairs at the end of ten years, and as the supply of paper was limited he wisely paused for the present. Any boy who chooses may make the calculation and easily figure out a fortune for himself and all his partners in the enterprise. Before Fred was through with the calculation he had determined to emigrate to the Cape and become an ostrich farmer; or, better still, he would buy a few thousand acres of land in Arizona, where the country was said to be admirably adapted to this new and highly profitable industry. Doctor Bronson dampened his ardor a little by telling him the ostrich had many enemies, in a domestic as well as in a wild state. "The hyena, wild-cat, and fox," said he, "have a loving tooth for the egg of the ostrich, and will often drive the bird from its nest, so that they may feed on its contents. Crows will drop stones into a nest when the bird is away for a few moments. This was formerly supposed to be a fiction, but its correctness has been verified by several observers. The crow seizes a round pebble from a brook or other place, poises himself over the nest, and then drops the stone with an accuracy that rarely misses its object. He follows to the ground immediately after the stone to make a feast on the broken egg. "Hawks kill the young chicks, and the birds, old and young, suffer from various diseases, most of them caused by improper care." "That is true," said Fred. "My ostrich-eggs shall be hatched artificially. Natural incubation occupies a period of six weeks." [Illustration: WHAT FRED HOPED FOR.] "That's so," chimed in Frank; "the farmers at the Cape use incubators, invented by Mr. Arthur Douglas. Not only do they get more chickens from a given number of eggs, but they get three broods a year instead of two." "Hurrah!" said Fred, "three broods in place of two; and, besides, we can defy the crows, and the hyena and his kindred, who rob the nests. We'll keep the chicks housed till they are too big for the hawks. We'll herd them carefully, so they sha'n't have any of the distempers that come from inattention; and as for food, they shall have just what is best for them. I've heard of feeding ostriches on old boots, pocket-knives, and similar things; and if mine want anything of the kind I'll buy all the old boots in New York, and all the cutlery in Connecticut, to give them a wholesome diet." The Doctor suggested that nutritious grass for the young birds, and Indian corn and green food of different kinds for the old ones, was about all that was needed. Still, he said, they devoured a good many pebbles, which seemed to serve the same purpose as the gravel in the gizzard of an ordinary hen. A farmer once found nine hundred and thirty stones in the gizzard of an ostrich, varying from the size of a pea to that of a walnut. There were no old boots or pocket-knives among them; but it has sometimes happened that an ostrich has helped himself to a button from the coat of an incautious visitor or a diamond pin from his shirt-front. Here the conversation ended, and Fred retired to think over his scheme for supplying the market of New York with ostrich plumes. He told Frank he might write to Mary and Miss Effie, promising them in a few years all the feathers they desired, and the prettiest ones, too. [Illustration: THE OSTRICH'S NATURAL ENEMY.] CHAPTER XXX. RESUMING THE MARCH.--MIRAMBO'S COUNTRY.--HUNTING ZEBRAS.--DESCRIPTION OF THE SOKO. Our friends landed without accident at M'salala, in Usukuma, which is a province of Unyamwezi. The best part of a day was consumed in getting the baggage on shore, setting up the tents, and putting the camp in order. They expected to remain there for several days, as it was not possible to hire at short notice all the guides and porters for the land journey from that point. [Illustration: ONE OF THE GUIDES.] The payment of the crews of the boats was a matter of some moment, as the men had an exalted opinion of the value of their services, notwithstanding the fact that they were in the employ of King M'tesa, and had been sent by him to transport Doctor Bronson and his party down the lake. The captains of the boats threw out hints that they would take their pay by force if it was not handed over voluntarily. Doctor Bronson threatened to report the whole affair to the King of Unyamwezi, and through him to M'tesa, who would be likely to deal very summarily with the offenders. The dispute was appealed to the Unyamwezi delegation who had accompanied the party down the lake, and their decision was a good illustration of the African character. M'tesa's men thought the Unyamwezi people would be inclined to make the payment as high as possible, as it was the African policy to make the stranger contribute freely for the privilege of passing through the country. In fact, one of M'tesa's captains had a sly interview with the chief of the delegation, and set forth the situation in glowing terms, coupled with an offer to give a liberal commission on whatever was received from the travellers. Abdul happened to learn of this interview, and as soon as an opportunity was afforded he had a similar conference with the same individual. What was said at this conference we are not at liberty to repeat, but the result was that the members of the delegation argued to themselves about as follows: "M'tesa's people are going away, and the strangers will remain among us for a while and travel through our country. The more they give to M'tesa's sailors the less they will have to give to us. The people that go are of much less consequence than those who remain; and besides, they can't afford to be liberal. As the sailors and their captains are in M'tesa's employ it would not be honorable for them to accept presents from strangers, and we therefore decide that they have nothing: they should go back to their own country with their hands and consciences equally clear." Doctor Bronson and the youths laughed heartily when the decision was reported to them, and the Doctor remarked that these Ethiopian judges might shake hands with certain occupants of the judicial bench not a thousand miles from New York. "Yes," said Frank, "'a fellow-feeling makes them wondrous kind'--to those who can afford to pay the most for the favors of the honorable court." The decision placed the matter fairly in the Doctor's hands. He called the captains and sailors together, and distributed among them a liberal amount of cloth, beads, wire, and other African commodities, and then required that they should start immediately for home. He did not choose to have them remain longer in his neighborhood, as he realized their power to make trouble for his party by setting the people of Usukuma against him. He added the rifle which he had promised to send to M'tesa in case the journey was accomplished within a certain time. Just as the boats were about to leave he presented each of the crews with a supply of provisions, which had not been bargained for, several jars of merissa, and an extra lot of cloth for the crew of the boat which had brought the donkeys. They certainly deserved it, as not a man of them had escaped with less than a dozen kicks. This unexpected liberality threw them all into good humor, and as the men paddled off they chanted songs in praise of the strangers, and hoped they would come again to Africa. "'All's well that ends well,'" said the Doctor as the last of the boats disappeared around a bend in the bay. "I was very much afraid we should have trouble with these people. There was no danger of anything of the kind as long as we were within reach of M'tesa; but they knew well enough that we could not get at him again without returning to Rubaga, which was not at all in our plans." [Illustration: A ROYAL RESIDENCE IN UNYAMWEZI.] The delegation started the next morning for the court of the King of Unyamwezi. They carried a letter from Doctor Bronson, written in Arabic, and asking permission to visit his capital, and travel through his country to Ujiji, on Lake Tanganyika. It was understood that the party would start as soon as the necessary porters could be engaged, and would be likely to meet the messenger with the king's answer somewhere on the road. It may be well to explain here that the king they were about to meet was the famous Mirambo, whose character has not been painted in pleasing colors by several African travellers. His capital or residence is at Urambo, about half way between the Victoria and Tanganyika lakes, and he was formerly looked upon as a blood-thirsty warrior, who exacted enormous tribute from every caravan that crossed his country. The story of the trouble is told by Cameron in the account of his journey across Africa. There are many Arabs settled in Unyamyembe, about a hundred miles south-east of Mirambo's capital. They trade in ivory and other African products, and for a long time Mirambo was on friendly terms with them. They made frequent exchanges of presents, and he allowed many of the Arabs to settle in his country, and gave them grants of land for their villages and, besides, cattle selected from his own herds. One of the Arabs took advantage of the monarch's good-nature and bought a large quantity of ivory on credit. When the time came for payment he evaded the debt, and as Mirambo pressed his claim the rascal laughed at him for being so foolish as to trust an Arab. Even a king may get angry when a debtor scorns him. Mirambo did not show his temper immediately, but asked the Arabs at Unyamyembe to assist him to collect the debt. They refused to do so, and then the king took the measure into his own hands and seized a caravan belonging to a partner of the man who had defrauded him. This event brought on a war, which lasted for several years, and gave great trouble, not only to the Arabs, but to all the white men who attempted to pass that way. Mirambo was an energetic warrior, who kept constantly on the move, and dropped down suddenly where he was least expected. Many villages were burned, and thousands of people were killed on both sides, or captured, and sold into slavery. The warfare was conducted in the most barbarous manner by the king and his enemies. The Arabs were as cruel as Mirambo, and there was very little to choose between them. [Illustration: WAR DANCE OF MIRAMBO'S FOLLOWERS.] At the time of Stanley's second journey in Africa to Lake Tanganyika the war was over, and the king had resumed business relations with his neighbors. He made terms of friendship with Stanley, and told him that hereafter any white man or Arab might travel through his territory or come there to trade, and he would be welcome. Stanley and the king exchanged presents, and the latter gave his visitor all the guides and porters he wanted to accompany him on his journey. The peaceful relations established by Stanley continued at the time Doctor Bronson and his companions arrived at the southern end of the Victoria N'yanza. As soon as Mirambo received the letter informing him of the approach of the strangers, and also the letter of M'tesa introducing the travellers as his friends, he sent two of his officers to meet them and conduct them to the capital. [Illustration: NATIVES BRINGING PROVISIONS FOR SALE.] Our friends started on their journey three days behind the delegation which carried the letter to Mirambo. They had no great difficulty in engaging porters, as the country bordering on the lake is well peopled, and the natives were quite desirous of earning some of the white man's cloth and beads. The Doctor's liberality to M'tesa's sailors had been noised about, and the porters were eager to be employed by a man who paid for services when an African tribunal had decided that he need not give anything. They brought various articles for sale, and there was a liberal offering of whatever the country produced. A couple of riding donkeys were obtained by Abdul, and also an ox that had been trained to the saddle. These animals, added to what they had brought from Rubaga, served to mount the entire party, including Abdul and Ali, and left an extra donkey for use in case of accident to any of the others. There was some delay at starting, owing to the tendency of the porters to seek the lightest loads. The matter was finally arranged by placing the loads in a row, and then forming the men in line a little distance away and out of sight of the burdens they were to carry. Then they marched forward, and each man picked up the load which chance assigned to him and marched off without a murmur. Frank observed that they were finely-shaped, muscular fellows, and their countenances showed them to be quite the equals of the people of Ugunda, if not of a superior intelligence. Fred took note of the clothing worn by the porters and others of the people of Unyamwezi, and remarked that a very little writing was sufficient to describe it. The principal garment was a cloth around the loins. Some of the better class had leopard or other skins thrown over their shoulders; and the boys were told that only a chief or man of high authority is allowed to wear the hide of a lion. The capture of a lion was a sufficiently rare occurrence to make the clothing of the chiefs equal the supply of the skin of the king of beasts. Doctor Bronson and the boys waited at the camp-ground till the last of the porters had left with his load and the whole caravan was under way; then they mounted the donkeys and followed close to the rear, while Abdul hurried to the front. An Arab named Mohammed had been engaged to accompany them to Ujiji, as he knew the language of Unyamwezi, and was familiar with the country between the two lakes. He proved of great assistance in managing the caravan and keeping the men at a good pace while on the road. He said he accompanied Stanley from Unyamyembe to Zanzibar on his first journey; and though he never travelled with Livingstone he had often seen him. The road was through a rolling country, greatly resembling the region between Fatiko and Rubaga. There was the same succession of forests and open ground, and there were level plains that became pestiferous marshes during the rainy season. Villages were numerous, and there were many fields of bananas, plantains, sweet-potatoes, and that peculiar kind of corn which the Arabs call "sesame." [Illustration: A PROTECTED VILLAGE.] Many of the villages had herds of cattle grazing in the vicinity, under the care of herdsmen. Most of the villages were surrounded with stockades, and there was at one side of each village a yard with a high fence, where the cattle were driven at night. The herders were provided with huts in the middle of these yards, so that they could be constantly with the animals, for whose safety they were responsible. The fence was considered a sufficient protection against wild animals, while the approach of a human foe was sure to bring all the fighting-men from the village to defend their property. Many of these enclosures had hedges of a peculiar kind of thorn-bush, that was really more difficult of penetration than a palisade of trunks of trees. The thorns are cruel things, two or three inches long, and many of them curved like fish-hooks. Getting loose from one you get caught on another, and perhaps on two or three; and a person who enters one of these bushes unawares will leave behind him the greater part of his clothing, together with many souvenirs from his skin. The general direction of the route was toward the south-west, and the guides said it would take five or six days to reach Mirambo's residence. If they wanted to hunt on the way they could do so, as the country abounded in game. Doctor Bronson thought it would not be well to stop for that purpose, as they would be likely to lose time by doing so; and besides, it might not suit the fancy of the king if they went to shooting in his dominions. But there could be no objection to their killing anything which came in their way, and with this understanding they continued the journey. A messenger came from the front with the information that a herd of zebras was in a valley to the right of the road, and not more than a quarter of a mile away. With the Doctor's permission Frank and Fred went in pursuit of the new game, under the guidance of Mohammed, and accompanied by a couple of natives, who served as gun-bearers. [Illustration: THE ZEBRA AT HOME.] They were fortunate enough to get near the zebras without being "winded," as the slight breeze that blew was directly in the faces of the young hunters. Three zebras were grazing together, close to a small grove, and two or three others were visible among the trees. The youths managed to creep quite close, and each selecting his victim, they fired at the same instant. One animal fell on the spot; the other sprang high in the air and ran a few yards before the bullet brought him to the ground. The boys rejoined the column, while Mohammed summoned several of the natives who followed the caravan, and persuaded them to carry the meat to camp. "He looked much like a striped horse," said Fred, when recounting the adventure to the Doctor. "More like a donkey than a horse," said Frank. "The zebra is more like the donkey than the horse," replied Doctor Bronson. "It has hairs at the tip of the tail only," he continued, "and his hind legs are without warts. For these reasons, and also for his voice and his powerful kick, he has been classed with the donkey, and you will find him named in the scientific books as the _Asinus zebra_." "But can the zebra be tamed, and made to work, like his long-eared cousin?" Fred inquired. "Yes," responded the Doctor, "he can be domesticated, but not easily. He is occasionally employed as a beast of burden, but is liable to manifest the same peculiarities of waywardness and stubbornness as the mule." "There is everything in a name," he farther remarked, "as you will find when the game you have killed is brought into camp. The Arabs and all their followers will eat the flesh of the zebra, and think it excellent; but they would not touch a bit of horse or donkey to save their lives." "Perhaps they are not alone in their prejudice," replied one of the boys. "I am impatient to have a taste of our prizes, but should hesitate for some time to dine off a donkey or a horse." The Doctor smiled as he nodded approval of the sentiment of the youth, and the conversation changed to some other topic. The camp was made in a little valley, close to a native village. While they were pitching the tents there was an alarm of "Snake! snake!" and the Doctor seized his shot-gun to make an end of the unwelcome visitor. The man who had shouted pointed in the direction of the village, and our friends hastened there as fast as they could go. It seemed that a large snake had entered one of the huts, and was making himself thoroughly at home. He had seized a chicken, and was leisurely engaged in devouring it. The Doctor was about to shoot his snakeship, when the owner of the hut begged him not to do so. All he desired was to have the creature leave the premises, and he would not consent that he should be harmed. Mohammed came up while the Doctor was wondering at the native's concern for the welfare of the serpent. He explained that the people regard the snake as a sort of ghost or spirit, and if it should be harmed by them in any way it would be sure to bring about a calamity. "If you had shot the snake," said the Arab, "it would have been necessary to move the village immediately, to evade the vengeance of the ghost." Jackals howled around the camp during the night, but their music did not interfere with the sleep of our friends. They were up and off in good time in the morning, and soon entered upon a plain five or six miles wide, with a few calabash-trees scattered over the level expanse. On the edge of the plain was a tembé, a building of a kind peculiar to this part of Africa, and only rarely met with in the regions north of the equator. Cameron thus describes the first one he saw: [Illustration: AN AFRICAN TEMBÉ.] "The tembé is formed simply of walls running parallel, subdivided by partitions, and having a roof nearly flat, sloping only slightly to the front. It is usually built to form a square, inside which the cattle are penned at night. It is about the most comfortless form of habitation that the brain of man ever devised; and as the huts are shared by the fowls and goats they are filthy in the extreme, and swarm with insect life." The boys entered the tembé only for a few moments, as the caravan was not allowed to halt, and they did not wish to be left in the rear. Besides, there was very little to be seen in the place, and the inhabitants had nothing to sell except a few eggs, which were quickly bought. Frank discovered a strange-looking skin hanging to one of the inner walls of the tembé, and called the attention of his companions to it. The Doctor regarded it carefully, and then said it was the skin of a soko. As soon as they were on the road again Fred referred to the soko, and asked if they were in the region inhabited by that animal. "I think he is occasionally found here," was the reply, "but his proper habitat is on the other side of Lake Tanganyika. At any rate he was seen there frequently by Livingstone, Stanley, and Cameron, and the Arabs say that sokos are sometimes killed in the neighborhood of the Victoria N'yanza." "Dr. Livingstone has given the fullest account of this denizen of the African forest, and when we get into camp I advise you to look it up in his 'Last Journals.'" Fred followed the Doctor's advice, and from the book in question he read as follows: "Four gorillas, or sokos, were killed yesterday. An extensive grass-burning forced them out of their usual haunt, and, coming on the plain, they were speared. They often go erect, but place the hand on the head, as if to steady the body. When seen thus the soko is an ungainly beast. The most sentimental young lady would not call him a 'dear,' but a bandy-legged, pot-bellied villain, without a particle of the gentleman in him. [Illustration: MANYUEMA HUNTERS KILLING SOROS.] "His light-yellow face shows off his ugly whiskers and faint apology for a beard: the forehead, villanously low, with high ears, is well in the background of the great dog-mouth; the teeth are slightly human, but the canines show the beast by their large development. The hands, or rather the fingers, are those of the natives. The flesh of the feet is yellow, and the eagerness with which the Manyuema devour it leaves the impression that eating sokos was the first stage by which they arrived at being cannibals. They say the flesh is delicious. The soko is represented by some to be extremely knowing, successfully stalking men and women at their work, kidnapping children, and running up trees with them. He seems to be amused by the sight of the young native in his arms, but comes down when tempted by a bunch of bananas, and as he lifts it he drops the child. "The soko kills the leopard occasionally by seizing both paws and biting them so as to disable them; he then goes up a tree, groans over his wounds, and sometimes recovers, while the leopard dies; at other times both soko and leopard die. The soko eats no flesh; small bananas are his dainties and other fruits. Some of the natives believe their buried dead rise as sokos, and one was killed with holes in his ears, as if he had been a man. He is very strong, and fears guns, but not spears. He never catches women. "If a man has no spear the soko goes away satisfied; but if wounded he seizes the wrist, lops off the fingers, and spits them out, slaps the cheeks of his victim, and bites without breaking the skin. He draws out a spear, but never uses it, and takes some leaves and stuffs them into his wound to staunch the blood." Doctor Bronson said it was not positively settled whether the soko was identical with the gorilla, described by Du Chaillu, and found in the western part of Africa. Naturalists are of opinion that it is not the gorilla, but a distinct species of chimpanzee, which Dr. Livingstone was the first to describe. The men who accompanied the eminent missionary were shown the specimen of the gorilla in the British Museum. They said it was not the soko, though closely resembling it, and they believed the two animals were nearly related to each other. CHAPTER XXXI. TO MIRAMBO'S CAPITAL.--STANLEY'S WORK ON THE LIVINGSTONE. The march to King Mirambo's capital was without any incident of consequence. When within a few miles of the place they met a delegation, consisting of one of the officers who had accompanied them down the lake and two other personages of rank near the king. Doctor Bronson received them after the customary form--with presents of cloth and beads--and messengers were sent back to tell the king that his visitors were near. [Illustration: ROCKS BY THE WAYSIDE.] As they entered the capital there was a large assemblage along the principal road leading into the town, and in some places the crowd was so dense that it was not easy to proceed. In a little while a company of the king's soldiers cleared the way, and the strangers were conducted to the presence of the man whom Stanley describes as the "Mars of Central Africa." Drums were beaten and hundreds of muskets discharged by the people around the king, and one might have thought from the uproar that a battle was in progress. The king met them in front of his palace, which was a plain building, something in the style of M'tesa's at Rubaga, though smaller. The king shook hands with our friends in true European fashion, and said he was glad to see them in his country. He was dressed in Arab costume, and wore a scimitar at his side. His officers were similarly clad, and it seemed to Frank and Fred almost as though they were once more in the presence of M'tesa, so much did the manners of Mirambo's court resemble that of the ruler of Ugunda. [Illustration: CROSSING A STREAM.] Frank endorsed fully the description which Stanley gives of this famous warrior. "He was the reverse," said the explorer, "of all my conceptions of the redoubtable chieftain and the man I had styled 'the terrible bandit.' "He is a man about five feet eleven inches in height, and about thirty-five years old, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh about him--a handsome, regular-featured, mild-voiced, soft-spoken man, with what one might call a 'meek' demeanor, very generous and open-handed. The character was so different from that which I had attributed to him, that for some time a suspicion clung to my mind that I was being imposed upon; but Arabs came forward who testified that this was indeed Mirambo. I had expected to see something of the M'tesa type, a man whose exterior would explain his life and rank; but this unpresuming, mild-eyed man, of inoffensive, meek exterior, whose action was so calm, without a gesture, presented to the eye nothing of the Napoleonic genius which he has for five years displayed in the heart of Unyamwezi, to the injury of Arabs and commerce and doubling the price of ivory." Presents were exchanged as tokens of friendship, and then the conversation turned upon the plans of the travellers. When the journey to Tanganyika was mentioned Mirambo said it was just then impossible. This was a piece of intelligence the reverse of pleasing, and Doctor Bronson proceeded at once to ascertain what it meant. "I have no objection to your going there," said Mirambo, "but I have recently received news of war between Uhha and Uvinza, two petty kingdoms that lie in your way." The Doctor thought with dismay of the troubles of Stanley and others with these rapacious rulers, who demanded enormous tribute, and several times threatened to take by force what they wanted if it was not voluntarily surrendered. "If there was no war," continued Mirambo, "you might buy the privilege of crossing those countries; but at present they have stopped all commerce, and any caravan attempting to go that way will certainly be plundered. Your fire-arms would not be so powerful against the fighting-men as in many parts of Africa, as the most of them are supplied with muskets, which they have bought from the Arab merchants." [Illustration: WEAPONS OF THE NATIVES.] Mirambo farther said that the war was caused by quarrels among the slave-stealers, and each side was engaged in making as many captives as possible and selling them to the Arabs. "It will be kept up," said he, "till they have stolen most of each other's people, and are compelled to stop for want of more villages to plunder, and more men and women to carry away." Mirambo invited the strangers to remain in his country as long as they liked; and, as their future movements would require a little while for arrangement, he would give them anything they wanted in the way of provisions for their men. The audience then broke up, and our friends went to the camp--which had been arranged during the interview--to discuss the new turn of events. [Illustration: MAN OF MASSI KAMBI.] Abdul and Mohammed were sent to obtain all the information in their power, and in the course of a couple of hours they returned with a considerable budget. Mirambo had not exaggerated the state of affairs in Uhha and Uvinza. Abdul had talked with two Arab merchants who had been plundered of all they possessed while endeavoring to pass through Uhha. Their goods were stolen, their porters held for sale as slaves, and they only escaped by promising to send fifty bales of cloth from Unyamyembe. A third Arab who accompanied them was held as a hostage, and the King of Uhha had threatened to put him to death unless the cloth was received within thirty days. Under the circumstances it was deemed advisable to abandon the journey to Lake Tanganyika and proceed to Zanzibar by way of Unyamyembe. Of course the decision was a great disappointment to Frank and Fred, and not much less to Doctor Bronson, but all of them had too much philosophy to grieve over what could not be helped. "We can do one thing, if we can't do another," said Frank. "We will question everybody who can give us any information, and perhaps we can say something about the great lake, even if we don't see it." Fred agreed to join Frank in the effort to give an account of the country beyond them, and for a couple of days they attended to little else than the collection of news concerning it. They talked with the Arab merchants, read all the books in their possession which had anything to say about Tanganyika and the Congo, questioned the Doctor, and in other ways showed that they were not to be set down as inattentive travellers. [Illustration: HILL-COUNTRY NEAR MIRAMBO'S CAPITAL.] They were already aware that the lake was discovered by Burton in 1858, was partially explored by Stanley and Livingstone a few years later, and that Stanley in his second visit to Central Africa completed the circumnavigation. Other investigations were made by Lieutenant Cameron, and the geographers are able to define the boundaries of the lake very distinctly. It is about four hundred miles long, and varies from ten to sixty miles in width; it lies between the third and ninth degrees of south latitude, and the twenty-ninth and thirty-second degrees of east longitude. Its position is south-west of the Victoria and Albert lakes, and north-west of Lake Nyassa, and its shores are for the most part mountainous. [Illustration: PORTERS AND WOMAN AND CHILD OF USAGARU.] The dispute as to its outlet, the Lukuga, was attributed by our friends to the fact that in the dry season the evaporation is equal to the amount of water received from tributary streams and the fall of rain, so that there is no flow whatever from the lake. In the rainy season the Lukuga becomes an important river, a thousand feet in width, and flowing with a strong current, while in the dry season a sand-bar is formed across it, and there is no outflow at all. The Arab traders declared that this was the case, and so we can understand how Cameron found a good-sized river where Stanley said there was none, and the flow, if any, was into the lake rather than out of it. At his second visit to Ujiji, where he met Livingstone, Stanley observed that the lake had risen considerably; and a later visitor says that the bar at the outlet of the lake had broken away, so as to allow the exit of the water, and the consequent sinking of the lake. All travellers agree that the shores of the lake are very beautiful, and in most portions thickly peopled. The principal town is Ujiji, on the eastern shore, and it will always be famous in history as the place where Stanley first shook hands with Dr. Livingstone, and offered the relief which had been sent to the great missionary by the proprietor of the _New York Herald_. [Illustration: HUT AT KIFUMA.] In his second journey Stanley crossed the lake from Ujiji, and plunged into the wilderness beyond its western shore, in a determination to reach the Atlantic Ocean by descending the Lualaba River. He believed the Lualaba flowed into the Congo, and by following its course he could reach the coast. The country was entirely unknown, as not even the Arab traders had ever explored it, and no one could tell what the explorer would encounter. There was a rumor that powerful tribes dwelt on the Congo, but no one could give an idea of their numbers and strength, or say whether they would be friendly or hostile. The work accomplished by Stanley is thus described by an able writer[7] in _Harper's Magazine_ for October, 1878: [7] Hon. John Russell Young, now (1883) United States Minister to China. "Stanley gave nine months to the exploration of the Lualaba, or rather to the Livingstone, as he called it, and as it must be called for all time. Before he went out on this mission we knew there were two rivers--the Congo and the Lualaba. We knew that the Congo ran into the Atlantic Ocean, but its source was lost in cataracts. The Portuguese were content to scatter a few settlements about its mouth, and trade for gums and ivory along its banks. But it was an unknown river beyond the cataracts. We knew there was a river in the middle of Africa called the Lualaba; we knew it had a swift current, that it was a river of large volume. But beyond that we knew nothing. Some had one theory, others had another. Livingstone was convinced that it ran into the Nile, was really the source of the Nile; and who would question even the theory of so great a master? What Stanley did was to show that the Congo and Lualaba were one and the same; that the Congo, instead of losing itself among the rapids, was to force itself into the very heart of the continent; that the Lualaba, instead of going north and submitting to the usurping waters of the Nile, was to turn to the west and force its way to the sea; that these two rivers were to disappear from the map, and be known as one river--the Livingstone; that this river was to be two thousand nine hundred miles in length; that for nearly ten degrees of longitude it was to be continuously navigable; that its volume was one million eight hundred thousand cubic feet a second; that the entire area it drains is eight hundred thousand square miles--in other words, that here was an immense waterway three thousand miles into the centre of Africa, navigable, with the exception of two breaks, which engineering science can easily surmount--a waterway into a tropical empire, rich in woods and metals and gracious soil, in fruits and grains, the sure home of a civilized empire in the years to come. As Petermann, the eminent German geographer, put it, Stanley's work was to unite the fragments of African exploration--the achievements of Livingstone, Burton, Speke, Du Chaillu, Baker, Cameron, of all the heroic men who had gone before him--into one consecutive whole, just as Bismarck united the fragments of the German people, lying about under various princes and dukes, into one grand and harmonious empire. Even as Bismarck had created imperial Germany, so Stanley created geographical Africa. [Illustration: STANLEY'S VOYAGE ON THE LIVINGSTONE.--BATTLE WITH THE NATIVES.] "There was a battle at the outset at Ruiki River, which had no special result except to show the ugly temper of the savages. Then came the first cataract--the falls of Ukassa. This seems to be a rapid current, like the first cataract of the Nile, and the boats and canoes were allowed to float over. A month was passed in these explorations, when, on December 6, Stanley came to the country of Usongora Meno, inhabited by a powerful tribe. Stanley's party was weakened by the fact that his people were suffering from small pox. Dysentery came and ulcers, and in three days eighteen of the Arab escort died from various diseases, mainly small-pox. Stanley was one hundred and twenty-five miles from his starting-place, with small-pox affecting seventy-two of his party, when he had another battle, the enemy coming in force, and firing poisoned arrows. Stanley made a camp, and defended his army as well as he could. 'Through the night the poisoned arrows flew, and were heard tapping trees and huts most unpleasantly.... Two days and two nights we bore cruel attacks by land and water. The entire country was aroused against us. Bowmen climbed tall trees, and any person showing himself in the broad street of the little town became a target at once. We were unable to bury our dead or to attend to the delirious wounded.' From this difficult position Stanley released himself by a successful night foray, cutting away the canoes of the attacking party. [Illustration: FRANK POCOCK, STANLEY'S COMPANION ON THE LIVINGSTONE.] "It was necessary, in the eighteen hundred miles from Nyangué to the ocean, to pass fifty-seven water-falls and rapids. After the river reached fourteen hundred miles, on its journey to the sea, it narrowed and ran through close-meeting, uprising banks of naked cliffs, or steep slopes of mountains, fringed with tall woods. Here the river was as rough and stormy as a sea, sometimes a steep glassy fall, sometimes boiling around isles of stone and bowlders, sometimes whirlpools and caldrons, the air filled with a roar like that of Niagara. This part of the journey, although not more than one hundred and eighty miles, required five months to make. Stanley, looking back, regards the attempt as insanity. But he had resolved to cling to the river, and not to leave it until it bore him, whether over smooth beaches or stony bowlders, to the sea. If he had gone around the cataract region in a land march he would have lessened his journey, avoided fearful hardships, and saved lives. But this knowledge he bought for himself and for mankind by experience. Hard as was the task, it was better done in this way; otherwise there would have been a farther mystery. As it is, we now know every mile of the river from the source to the mouth. But the perils of these falls were the severest of the trip, and it was here that he lost Kalulu, the faithful black boy whom he found in Livingstone days and educated in England, and, more than all, his last remaining white associate, Frank Pocock. [Illustration: STANLEY'S EXPEDITION RECUPERATED AND RECLAD AFTER CROSSING THE "DARK CONTINENT."] "Stanley, having battled with tempest, disease, and armed enemies, now came to a halt, and sent a messenger for relief. Already he was within easy marches of the sea, within four days of Embomma. His small army had been reduced to one hundred and fifteen souls. His message was 'to any gentleman who speaks English at Embomma.' 'We are now,' he wrote, 'in a state of imminent starvation.... The supplies must arrive within two days, or I may have a fearful time of it among the dying.... For myself, if you have such little luxuries as tea, coffee, sugar, and biscuit by you, such as one man can easily carry, I beg you, on my own behalf, that you will send a small supply.... You may not know me by name; I therefore add, I am the person who discovered Livingstone in 1871.' This was on August 6, 1877, and in two days supplies arrived. The letter fell into the hands of A. Motta Viega and J. W. Harrison, whose names are worthy of remembrance, and Stanley wrote, in an ecstasy of delight over 'the rice, the fish, and the rum,' the 'wheat bread, butter, sardines, jam, peaches, grapes, beer (ye gods, just think of it!), three bottles of pale ale, besides tea and sugar!': 'The people cry out joyfully, while their mouths are full of rice and fish, "Verily our master has found the sea and his brothers, but we did not believe him until he showed to us the rice and the rum."... It will be the study of my lifetime,' continued Stanley, 'to remember my feelings of gratefulness when I first caught sight of your supplies, and my poor faithful and brave people cried out, "Master, we are saved--food is coming!" The old and the young, the men, women, and children, lifted their weary and worn-out frames and began to chant lustily an extemporized song in honor of the white people of the great salt sea who had listened to their prayers. I had to rush to my tent to hide the tears that would issue despite all my attempts at composure.' This closed the journey, which, beginning at Nyangué, November 5, 1876, lasted nine months and one day; and counting from the time he left Zanzibar, the entire journey across the 'Dark Continent' occupied nine hundred and ninety-nine days, or two years and nine months!" Stanley went again to Africa in 1879, to establish colonies on the upper waters of the Livingstone, in the interest of the International African Society, of which the King of Belgium is president. The object of the society is to open Africa to trade and civilization, and it has been liberal in the expenditure of money to accomplish its purposes. It was near the end of 1879 that Stanley arrived at the mouth of the Livingstone, with a force of fifteen Europeans, sixty-eight Zanzibaris, and some twenty or more natives of other parts of Africa. The white inhabitants on the African coast were hostile to him, as they naturally feared his operations would interfere with their business. [Illustration: TRADING STATION ON THE WEST COAST OF AFRICA.] The native traders, who act as intermediaries between the whites and the people of the interior, were also opposed, as they did not care to have Europeans establish trading stations away from the coast; and the same was the case with the tribes living near the falls of the great river. Stanley managed to avoid trouble with any of these interests, and at once began the work of establishing stations and building roads, to open up the heart of Africa to European traffic. What he accomplished in three years may be summed up as follows: He negotiated with the chiefs of the tribes on the river along the whole line of cataracts for the right to establish stations and build roads, paying a rental for the ground he occupied, and dealing liberally with them in every way. He made two hundred miles of road through the wilderness, carrying it sometimes over mountains and through country which presented a great many difficulties. In one place his whole force was occupied twenty-six days in making twelve hundred feet of road around the flank of a mountain of nearly solid quartz. At each end of the road there is a permanent station, consisting of a central house or residence, with numerous huts and storehouses around it, and with fields and gardens for the production of anything that will grow in the country. [Illustration: CURIOUS HEAD-DRESS.] There are three intermediate stations between the first and the last, built in the manner just described. The road through its whole length is about fifteen feet wide, and suitable for wagons of any kind, and it has been built with a view to permanency. By his exploit in going around the mountain Stanley received the name of "The Breaker of Rocks," by which he is now known in all that region. In his account of the work the great explorer says: "The weight and labor of our transport may be imagined when I say that we had no less than two thousand two hundred and twenty-five loads or packages, each weighing from sixty-five to seventy pounds. We had seven large store tents, and besides this we had enormous wagons, built on purpose for us in Belgium, whereon to transport the two steamers and two large steel boats, with boilers and machinery, which we had brought with us to put together on the Upper Congo. We had to go over the ground no less than thirty-three times, and our rate of progress, calculating the number of days we travelled, was only a quarter of a mile a day. After eleven months of unceasing toil the two steamers were put together at the second station above the Isangila cataract, the place where I left the _Lady Alice_ after her seven thousand mile journey with me in the Anglo-American expedition across the Dark Continent." [Illustration: THE HEIGHT OF FASHION.] From this point the river is navigable for a distance of seventy-four miles, and the steamers transported the men and material of the expedition to the foot of the next cataract. Then came more road-building, then another navigable distance, and then more roads, till at last the widening of the river was reached, at the foot of Stanley Pool. From here the great river is navigable nine hundred miles farther inland; and there are several tributary rivers where steamers can go. On one of these tributaries a lake has been discovered about seventy miles long, to which Stanley gave the name of Leopold II., in honor of the King of Belgium. The association has now seven steamers on the river: four on the lower portion, and three above Stanley Pool. By road and river there is now a direct way of communication between Central Africa and the sea-coast, where the mails are regularly carried to the officers and men in charge of the stations and the merchants engaged in business there. In speaking of his achievements Stanley says as follows: "I am ambitious only to leave permanent traces of my work on the east side of the Dark Continent. Expedition after expedition has followed my track. On the shores of the Victoria N'yanza and on the shore of the Tanganyika communities of white men are engaged in disseminating what they think beneficial to the dark outcasts of this continent. Why should I not hope that the Congo basin throughout its vast extent, and the bank of the superb river, will be ultimately studded with civilized communities as well? We have begun well. Even now Belgians, Germans, English, Americans, Danes, Swedes, enlisted in our service, are devoting their best energies to accomplish this. So far we have been welcomed by the natives. Our object they can appreciate and understand, and they are the only ones as yet benefited by it. We have spent a large sum, and shall have to spend more yet. For we look upon ourselves as husbandmen, tilling and sowing that others may reap. As yet the Congo basin is a blank, a fruitless waste, a desolate and unproductive area. The energies of its denizens are benumbed. No prospect has dawned on them. It has been our purpose to fill this blank with life, to redeem this waste, to plant and sow that the dark man may gather, to vivify the wide, wild lands so long forgotten of Europe. Accursed be he or they who, animated by causeless jealousy and the spirit of mischief, will compel us to fire our station, destroy our work so auspiciously begun, and abandon Africa to its pristine helplessness and savagery." In our account of Stanley's work in Africa we have gone outside of the information possessed by Frank and Fred, as the details of his expedition in behalf of the International Association were not known to them at the time they were in Africa. We trust the readers of their narrative will pardon the liberty we have taken, and accept the assurance that what we have given would have been faithfully chronicled by "The Boy Travellers," if they had known it in season. The above apology being accepted, the author will take the reader into his confidence and show him a personal letter from Stanley, in reply to an invitation to run over to New York and meet several of his old friends, who promised to have dinner ready on the day of his arrival. If any one believes Stanley otherwise than a genial man in his social relations, he can now have an opportunity to change his opinion: "Brussels, November 4, 1882. "MY DEAR KNOX,--I have been trying ever so much to cross from Europe to the 'land of the free and the home of the brave,' but there are so many fetters binding me in this fierce, stirring world, that I fear I cannot break them, or even have them loosened long enough for the journey. It was my dream in Africa to seek repose in lounging--loafing is the New York term--for a spell about any town: it really did not matter which. A village would do, so that I could rove about unnoticed, and re-gather by degrees a store of vitality to replace that which the cruel fever of West Africa scorched and almost consumed. I mourn now that my dream cannot be realized. When I leave Paris I go to London, which is like 'from the frying-pan into the fire,' and then farewell all.... "As you know, this is winter, and the East Wind strikes me everywhere; he catches me round street-corners; at the street-door I find him; he waits for me late at night from the warm saloons, with bundles of small fevers, coughs, bronchial irritation, catarrh, chest complaint. He shrivels me up till there is scarcely a resemblance of manhood left in the benumbed wretch. "Ah! had it been September, or had it been April, oh, blessed Heaven! I should seek the _Alaska_, or the _Werra_, or Bennett's _Namouna_. "I intend to go presently to Nice, Cannes, Mentone, Andalusia, or where? Anywhere, where I can see man other than in an overcoat. [Illustration: THE FIRST CATARACT OF THE LIVINGSTONE.] "Yet it may be. America is dear, you know--New York has joys, and sometimes you do catch men without overcoats. There are good dinners there, too, and the Lotos has been ever since it was born a most welcome place; and you know, don't you know. ---- himself is a host! And when added to him you have the jolly ----, and the courteous ----, and amiable ----, and the rest--why, I will come! "But no, not yet. I fear the walls of snow in New York--the hilly ridges of frozen water, mud-colored and ancient. "Some time I will come. And then I will seek you, and revive as well as we may the memories of our days in Paris in 1878--good dinners, without one unpleasant face; good wine, of a good vintage, heightened by the sparkling pleasantries of friendship. Meantime, dear old fellow, until we meet, adieu; and whisper, with my regrets that I cannot come at present, the sweet hopes that my firm soul shall entertain to all our mutual friends, and that I am, now as ever, "Theirs and yours most faithfully, "HENRY M. STANLEY." [Illustration: STANLEY'S EXPEDITION DESCENDING THE LIVINGSTONE.] CHAPTER XXXII. UNYAMYEMBE.--AMONG THE ARABS.--MARCHING TOWARD THE COAST. Having finished our journey down the Livingstone to the shores of the Atlantic, in company with Stanley, we will return to our young friends in Unyamwezi. Three days sufficed to arrange the plans for their future movements. On the morning of the fourth day the servants packed the tents and baggage, and the party was ready to move in the direction of Unyamyembe and Zanzibar. Previous to starting they made a farewell visit to Mirambo, to whom they gave additional presents. The king was not to be outdone in generosity, and ordered his officers to see that they had all the provisions that would be needed for the journey to Unyamyembe. Just as they were about to make their farewells to Mirambo, Abdul came to the Doctor's side and whispered a few words in his ear. The quick eye of the king saw that something was wrong, and he asked what was the matter. Doctor Bronson replied that some twenty or more of the pagazi refused to move unless they were paid in advance, and they demanded double wages for the journey before starting. Evidently the king was accustomed to this sort of thing, as he beckoned to one of his officers and spoke briefly to him, in a low tone. The officer left the audience-hall immediately, and Mirambo assumed an attitude of waiting for something to turn up. In a quarter of an hour or so there was a commotion outside, and the officer returned to the royal presence. The whole party followed him into the open air, and found the rebellious porters, their hands bound together with strong cords, and a guard of spearmen standing by to see that none of them escaped. Mirambo's manner was decisive, and our friends had no reason to complain of the sluggishness of African justice. He told the pagazi they would be sold as slaves unless they went peacefully with the strangers without any pay in advance. Of course they promised obedience on the instant, and in less than three minutes the whole matter was arranged. Mirambo added that they might consider themselves very fortunate if they received any pay at all after such rebellious conduct. Abdul marched the men back to camp, accompanied by the guard of Mirambo's men. At the request of the Doctor a guard was detailed to accompany them on the road, to keep the porters from straying. More presents were given to the king for his administration of justice, and it was agreed that the guard should be paid in cloth and beads on their arrival at Unyamyembe. The soldiers were delighted at the prospect of occupation for which they would be paid, as it was not the custom of the king to waste his property by giving them anything for their services. One of them told Mohammed that they only received their food and clothing. As they wore next to nothing, and helped themselves to bananas and other fruits wherever they could find them, there was reason to believe that the army of Mirambo was not an expensive one. [Illustration: A DESERTER BROUGHT BACK.] During the day one of the porters deserted with his load. The guard went in search of him, and he was soon brought into camp and led to the Doctor's tent for punishment. Doctor Bronson dismissed him without payment. He did not need the man any longer, owing to the reduction of their supplies by the last batch of presents to Mirambo. The fellow was overjoyed at the mildness of his sentence, as he had expected to lose his head for his disobedience. [Illustration: A NATIVE GUARD.] A march of five days took the party to Tabora, a town of the province or district of Unyamyembe, and frequently called by the latter instead of the former name. It is about three hundred and sixty miles from the coast in a direct line, and the distance to Zanzibar is reckoned, in round figures, at five hundred miles. The district was occupied by Arabs from Zanzibar about forty years ago. They came there to trade, and, by arrangement with one of the native rulers, they established villages, planted fields, and became permanent residents. Unyamyembe is a province of Unyamwezi, and has become a meeting-place of the merchants for all the central region of Africa. The Arabs have regular and frequent communication with Zanzibar by means of their caravans, and the lines of commercial travel diverge from Unyamyembe in all directions. In the busy season of the year they may be counted by dozens or scores, while at other times their number will be very small. Frank and Fred began to think they were returning to civilization when they saw the commodious houses of the Arabs in Tabora, and the apparent comfort in which these merchants lived. They had sent forward a messenger to announce their coming, according to the custom of the country, and when a short distance from the town they met Said bin Amir, one of the resident merchants, who had come out to meet them. The merchant was clad in the flowing robes which proclaimed him a disciple of Mohammed, and his features were readily distinguishable from those of the negroes. He invited our friends to his house, and said he would accompany them to call on the governor as soon as that dignitary was ready to receive them. [Illustration: SAID BIN AMIR'S HOUSE.] The house was a single story in height and covered a considerable area. Frank and Fred were reminded of some of the houses they visited in Egypt, and especially of the one where they were lodged at Khartoum. In fact, it was the finest dwelling they had seen since leaving the capital of the Soudan provinces, with the possible exception of the palace of King M'tesa. It was built round a court-yard, and there was a veranda in front, where they sat in the shade and sipped the delicious coffee which their host ordered as soon as they were seated. A message came that the governor was ready to see them, and they went at once to his residence, escorted by Said bin Amir and one of his friends, who had dropped in to have a look at the travellers. The governor welcomed them with the same hospitality they had already experienced from his loyal subject, and after a short conversation concerning their plans, and with an offer of assistance in case of need, he escorted them to the house which was to be their residence during their stay. It was a commodious dwelling, admirably adapted for lodging the entire party, with its retinue of servants and other attendants, and with a large yard, where donkeys could be tied and the porters kept from straying on the eve of departure. Frank and Fred were delighted to learn that they were on historic ground, or rather under an historic roof, as the house where they were quartered was the same which had been occupied by Livingstone, Stanley, and Cameron during their stay in Unyamyembe. The walls were of sun-dried bricks, such as are called _adobe_ in Mexico. The roof was flat, and covered with mud, so that it formed an admirable lounging-place at the close of the day. As soon as he had installed them in their temporary home the governor said they mast dine with him in the afternoon, and meet the principal merchants of the place. Doctor Bronson hesitated for the moment, as he thought they would be busy during the entire day with paying off the porters and guard, who were to go back from this point, and settling other details of their journey. The governor said there need be no hurry, as the men would be quite willing to wait till the next day for their settlement; and besides, some of them would be likely to stray off during the night, and thus remove the necessity for paying them. This was an Arab way of regarding the matter which greatly amused the Doctor, and was heartily enjoyed by Frank and Fred. The dinner was an excellent one, and consisted of curried chicken, roast mutton, wheat-cakes, and stewed plantains, together with plenty of milk, butter, and fruits. Of course they had coffee in true Arab style. The Arab merchants were not at table with them, but dropped in at the end of the meal and partook of the coffee and pipes. The next morning the pagazi and guard were paid off and discharged, and the governor sent word that he expected they would leave town immediately. Before noon they were all out of the way, and the governor came to accompany the three strangers in ceremonious calls upon the principal merchants whom they had met the evening before at his house. The calls occupied the entire afternoon; and as it was necessary to eat and drink at every house they entered, our friends returned from their visit without any appetite for dinner. Frank said he felt much like a turkey that has been "crammed" for fattening, and Fred thought he could forego eating for at least a couple of days. They had done their best to show their appreciation of the kindness of their hosts, but thought it would not be conducive to their health to come often to Unyamyembe. They returned the compliment of the governor by asking him to dinner on the day after the round of calls. The boys arranged the bill of fare, with the aid of Abdul, and treated his excellency to several rare dishes. Whether he liked the plum-pudding, canned oysters, and other imported luxuries, or only ate them out of politeness, they were unable to discover; at all events, he appeared to do so, and they could ask no more. [Illustration: GETTING READY FOR THE ROAD.] The ceremonies of introduction being over, they at once set about their preparations for the journey to the coast. They were aided materially in their work by the governor and the principal merchants. The smaller traders threw various obstacles in their way, by inducing the pagazi to desert after they had been employed and received their retaining fee, and the matter finally became so serious that the Doctor made complaint to the governor, who ordered a stoppage of the interference. Fortunately for their plans several caravans had recently arrived from the coast, and there was a good supply of porters seeking engagements to return. One of the merchants was about sending a caravan to Zanzibar with a quantity of ivory. He proposed to unite with the Doctor's party in engaging pagazi, and thus prevent the competition that would inevitably arise if they were both in the market at the same time. Doctor Bronson accepted the proposal, and in two or three days the merchant announced that he had all the men needed for both expeditions. The price of porters varies according to the supply, the demand being sometimes very high, and at others decidedly low. An important feature of the contract was, that the men were to be paid on their arrival at the coast, and not at starting; consequently it would not be necessary to carry the goods needed for their payment, as the merchant was well known to the porters, and they readily accepted his guarantee of responsibility. [Illustration: HALTING-PLACE UNDER A SYCAMORE.] The ordinary porters received the equivalent of ten dollars each in cloth at Zanzibar prices, and were to be paid off at Bagamoya, the port from which the traders cross to Zanzibar. The ivory-porters received two dollars extra, in consideration of the peculiar shape of their burdens and the difficulty of handling them. The largest tusks were slung between two men, as they were too heavy for a single porter; and these double porters have a traditional right of refusing to march more than ten miles a day. In addition to their wages the porters are to be fed on the road, and the master of the caravan must be prepared to purchase the necessary provisions. For this purpose he carries a supply of cloth and beads, and a great deal of bargaining is required in making purchases. Where the country is peaceable a trusty man is sent ahead of the caravan to make arrangements; but if the natives are hostile this cannot be done, as the messenger would be liable to be waylaid and killed. The road between Unyamyembe and Zanzibar is now so well known, and so frequently travelled, that the route is divided into marches, and the natives derive quite an income from supplying the wants of the caravans. The expense of feeding a caravan is set down at about five dollars for each porter, and perhaps twice as much for the _askari_, or Arab soldiers, who are almost invariably taken along as an escort. Goats and bullocks supply the meat for feeding the porters, and the vegetable part of their bill of fare includes sweet-potatoes, manioc, rice, bananas, meal from wheat and corn, and anything else that the region through which they pass happens to offer. Occasionally fish are caught from the rivers, and game is shot in the forest, but they cannot be relied upon as a regular supply. [Illustration: A HOUSE IN UNYAMYEMBE.] And now what do you suppose happened to Frank and Fred? Without having intended doing so beforehand, they became ivory-merchants. It happened in this way: They found, on making an inventory of their goods, that they had considerably more than was needed for paying the expenses of their journey to the coast. Of course they desired to sell the surplus, and found the Arab merchants ready to buy. Money was not available, and they were obliged to take the currency of the country, which was ivory. The party became the owner of thirty tusks of ivory, and the property was consigned to the special care of Frank. The young man took especial pride in looking after this valuable series of burdens, and announced his determination to keep it constantly under his eye during the long journey. Abdul damped his ardor a little by telling him that the etiquette of African travel would forbid his doing so, and advising the employment of a trusty man to accompany the porters, and see that the ivory was properly piled at Frank's tent-door at night. [Illustration: UNYAMWEZI HEADS.] Frank adopted the suggestion, and immediately engaged Mohammed for the post of Superintendent of Ivory Transport. He promised an extra payment of wages to Mohammed, in case no harm came to any of the tusks on the journey, and told him to make a similar offer to the porters. Every night the tusks were piled at his tent-door and carefully counted, and every morning he saw them safely on the shoulders of their bearers. The result was that not a porter deserted or gave his load to any one else, and when they reached Bagamoya Frank distributed in person the promised rewards. The united caravan of Doctor Bronson's party and the merchant, Ahmed ibn Suleyman, numbered a little over three hundred porters, besides an escort of twenty askari, armed with muskets. Numbers in an African caravan are both an advantage and the reverse. A large caravan is less liable to attack than a small one; but, on the other hand, it is much more difficult to feed while on the road. Many of the places where water is obtainable consist of small springs, and a large caravan is too much for their capacity. [Illustration: Mganga, or Medicine-man. The Porter. The Kirangozi, or Guide. Muinyl Kidogo. Mother and Child. MEMBERS OF THE CARAVAN.] Our friends were sixteen days in Unyamyembe, and thoroughly enjoyed their stay. The governor and merchants were unremitting in their attentions, and kept them constantly supplied with milk, honey, butter, and other necessaries of daily life, for which it would have been an affront to offer payment. They consoled themselves with the reflection that they had disbursed a considerable amount of money, or its equivalent, in their preparations for departure, and that most of it would find its way, directly or indirectly, into the pockets of the Arabs. Farewell calls were made on the sixteenth day, and on the morning of the seventeenth there was great excitement around the house where they had been so comfortably lodged. A long file of porters stood ready for their burdens; servants were busy with the work of packing; Abdul and Mohammed were flying here and there, the latter reminding Fred of the American simile of a dog bitten by a hornet; and Frank was standing guard over his cherished ivory. It was late in the forenoon before the last burden was shouldered, and the donkeys were led up for their riders to mount and be off. The first day's march is generally a short one, and the present proved no exception to the rule. The camp was made about five miles away, close to a small village in the midst of several rice-fields. A great deal of rice is grown in Unyamyembe, and it is a staple article of food with the people. Twenty loads were bought for the use of the caravan while passing through the Kigwa forest, which adjoins Unyamyembe, and does not produce rice. Before daylight next morning the camp was roused, a hurried breakfast was eaten, and a little past six the column was in motion. Frank described the caravan in his journal, and it is quite possible that he refreshed his memory by a sly glance at Burton's account of his journey to Central Africa: [Illustration: GRINDING MEAL FOR SUPPER.] "The line of march is taken by the kirangozi, or guide, and any man who attempts to precede him is liable to a fine. He carries a small flag, to indicate that the caravan belongs to an Arab merchant, and his dress is a strange combination of odds and ends of things. For the odds, he has a head-dress made of a monkey's skin and a bunch of feathers; and for the ends, he has the tail of a jackal, or some other animal, fastened by means of a belt around his waist, and appearing as though it grew from his own backbone. Two or three small gourds or packets, enclosing magic powders for protection on the road, are also hung at his belt; and he has a strip of broadcloth, which he sometimes suspends from his neck, while at others he rolls it carefully into a bundle, to keep it from the rain. [Illustration: STOREHOUSE FOR GRAIN.] "The kirangozi is followed by a favored pagazi, who carries a light load, and beats a small kettle-drum, shaped very much like an hour-glass. Immediately behind him are the ivory porters, with their burdens, wrapped around with leaves and bamboos, partly for protection of the material, but more especially for convenience in handling. Then come the bearers of cloth and beads, and then the other porters, laden with rhinoceros-horns, skins of animals, bags of salt, rice, and other provisions, together with brass wire, boxes, bags, beds, tents, and private stores of the merchant and ourselves. Then come the men of the escort, and then the women and children that invariably accompany the caravan, but are not allowed to march in the same group as the porters. The men in charge of the porters are scattered along the line, and the rear is closed by the masters of the caravan, mounted on their donkeys, and immediately preceded by the donkeys, laden with burdens. "The drivers of these animals have a good deal of trouble to keep their beasts from straying, and at every halt there is a liberal display of kicking propensities on the part of the four-footed travellers. "Our column stretches a good half-mile along the road, and, from points where the whole of it is visible, from a little distance it looks like an enormous serpent dragging itself slowly over the ground. After a march of two or three hours there is a halt, and the guide endeavors to find a place near a pool of water or under the shade of trees. He plants his flag in the ground and blows a long blast upon a horn. The signal is understood, and a sort of cheer goes along the entire line. The porters stack their loads, and lie down on the ground for a quarter of an hour or so, and some of them take the opportunity to devour a few mouthfuls of food. In a little while the horn sounds again, and the march is resumed. We usually embrace the opportunity to complete the breakfast for which we had only a slight appetite at the early start. "The march continues till noon, or a little later, and then we stop to make our camp, and get ready to pass the night as comfortably as we can. Sometimes we have a long halt at mid-day, and march in the afternoon. Our movements depend considerably upon the character of the country where we are travelling, and the distance from one watering-place to another. Where we halt early the men generally build their own huts, when they can find the materials; but if the march is late they pass the night in a village, or in the _krall_, or public lodging-yard. They consider it a hardship to sleep in the open air, and will not do so if they can avoid it. [Illustration: AN AFRICAN FERRY.] "We have all the varieties of country you can imagine, and perhaps two or three more. We have level plains and rough hills, dense forests and wide stretches of open ground, thickets of thorn-bushes and patches of the softest grass, rough rocks and smooth sand, rivers of varying size and dry channels, where not a drop of water can be seen, and broad areas which are beautiful plains in the dry season and trackless bogs in the period of heavy rains. Happily for us, the country is so well travelled that its peculiarities are known and the worst places can be avoided. What we should suffer if we were engaged in an exploration, and had no guide to show us the way, I shudder to contemplate. [Illustration: CROSSING A PLAIN.] "The roads are mere paths, as though made by oxen or goats, and the engineering in many places is inferior to what we might expect from those animals. In open country there are frequently four or five lines parallel to each other for some distance, while in dense forests or thickets the roads take the form of tunnels under the trees, which are very inconvenient for the mounted traveller. He finds himself constantly 'bobbing' to save his head from the thorns, and very frequently fails to do so. The paths are generally plain enough during the dry season, but in the period of rains they are obliterated by the water, and the intelligence of the guide is the traveller's sole reliance. Among fields and villages the paths are enclosed by hedges, and not unfrequently by tall fences of logs, which are intended to prevent thefts on the part of the passing caravans." CHAPTER XXXIII. INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY TO THE COAST.--CONCLUSION. The journey from Unyamyembe to Bagamoya formerly consumed five or six months, but is now usually accomplished in eight or ten weeks. Our friends recorded in their note-books forty-nine marching days and twenty-one days of delay, making exactly ten weeks in all. Delays are inevitable in African travel, and they arise from various causes. Porters fall sick or desert, or are disinclined to go through as fast as possible; provisions are not always obtainable; donkeys stray from camp, and require a considerable expenditure of time for hunting them up; the leaders of the caravan are often detained by fever; rivers and swamps overflow in wet seasons, and there is a scarcity of water at other times; and the petty chiefs along the route interpose many obstacles to one's rapid progress. On the whole, Doctor Bronson considered his party fortunate to be delayed no more than three weeks on this part of their route, and their Arab friend said there was rarely an expedition which went through as quickly as they had done. The payment of _mhongo_ as tribute for passing through the country is an established custom of this great route of trade, and many are the disputes that arise from it. Of course the caravans want to give the least possible amount, while the chiefs demand exorbitant figures for the privilege. In some districts the tariff is regulated and understood, while in others there is no settled rate, and the two contending parties make the best bargain they can. Frank and Fred were greatly amused at the disputes over the _mhongo_ question until they lost their novelty. One of these disputes lasted a couple of days, and at one time there was a good prospect of a fight for the right of passage. The chief demanded two hundred cloths and fifty strings of beads as his tribute, and he refused permission for the party to proceed until the whole amount was paid. He sent his warriors to cut down trees and blockade the road; and as the country was admirably suited to an ambuscade our friends were decidedly at a disadvantage. The bargaining went on with a great deal of vehemence, the chief declaring he would not lower his terms a single point, and a little while later offering to take something less. He finally let them go on in consideration of forty cloths and five strings of beads. Just as they were starting he sent several baskets of sweet-potatoes, as an expression of good-will, and received an old hatchet in return. Fred suggested that with this implement he might set up as an African George Washington--not for his inability to tell a lie, but for his zeal in cutting down trees. [Illustration: A POND BY THE WAYSIDE.] One night, in the country of Ugogo, there was an alarm in the camp, and word was brought to Doctor Bronson that one of their goats had been seized by a leopard. The natives were afraid to pursue the beast, but they fired guns and made a great noise, which caused the intruder to drop his prey a short distance from where he caught it. Confident that the brute would return, a trap was set for him in the shape of a spring-gun carefully placed over the dead goat. About an hour before daylight the gun was discharged, but nobody went near the spot till morning. [Illustration: CAPTURING A LEOPARD.] The ball from the gun had broken the leopard's fore-leg and passed through his shoulder, so that he had been unable to get far from the spot; but as the natives approached him he sprang up, with a loud roar, and fixed the claws of the sound fore-leg in the shoulder of the nearest man. The latter was so taken by surprise that he did not use his spear, but his companions came to his rescue and despatched the assailant. The wounded negro was adjudged to be the rightful owner of the skin of the leopard. He was consoled for his injury by Frank, who paid a good price for the trophy. The man continued with the expedition, but his wounds were not healed for nearly a month. When he was pronounced well again he came to Frank and expressed his readiness to capture another leopard for the same price! The boys endorsed fully the account which Cameron gives of the rapacity of the chiefs of Ugogo, and their exorbitant demands for tribute; but, owing to their being in company with the Arab merchant, they escaped more easily than did the English explorer. They made sketches of some of the followers of the chiefs, and their attention was particularly drawn to the habit which these natives have, of piercing their ears. [Illustration: UGOGO HEADS, WITH DISTENDED EARS.] "Many of them," wrote Frank in his note-book, "distend the lobes of the ears so that they serve as pockets for carrying snuffboxes, pieces of ivory, and other property; and where they are not used for practical purposes they are decorated with enormous rings of brass wire or other metallic substances. Sometimes the enlargement is so great that the ears reach to the shoulders, and frequently they become torn through accident or long use. If possible, a fresh hole is made in the ear; but if this cannot be done the ornaments are suspended by means of strings passed over the head." [Illustration: WOMEN OF UBUDJWA.] As an offset to Frank's observation Abdul described the fashion that prevails among the women of Ubudjwa, a country which was not visited by our friends, as it lies beyond Lake Tanganyika. They pierce the upper lip and insert a piece of stone or wood; after wearing it a few days a larger piece is inserted, and the process is continued till the lip protrudes a couple of inches, and sometimes more. It gives a hideous appearance to the face, renders articulation very indistinct, and is very inconvenient in eating and drinking. Why they do so nobody could tell, except that it is the fashion. They also tattoo their faces, but the disfiguration caused by it is almost imperceptible when compared with the other work of art. "Fashion is as imperious in Africa as in any other country," Fred remarked, when Abdul had finished his description of the people who pierce their lips. "No matter how inconvenient a custom may be, it must be followed when fashion gives the command. Black man and white man are alike in this respect, and more especially black woman and white woman. In the matter of hair-dressing, if in nothing else, we have a good illustration of what fashion does with its followers. Every country tries to arrange its hair unlike any other, and the most of them succeed. Then, too--" Fred's lecture was cut short by a commotion among the porters, and the announcement that a snake had crossed their path. The boys went forward to where the frightened negroes were huddled together and refusing to move until certain that the snake was out of the way. In a little while the road was pronounced safe, and the procession moved on. The snake was probably quite as much alarmed as the men, and lost no time in concealing himself. Owing to the superstitions of the porters it was necessary to make a present to his snakeship. Accordingly a quantity of rice was poured on the ground, at the spot where he was last seen, before the march was resumed. As the serpent had no use for this sort of food it is probable that he did not pay it the least attention, or display any gratitude to the givers. [Illustration: CROSSING A RIVER ON A FISH-WEIR.] One of their halts was made on the bank of a river famous for the abundance of fish in its waters. A liberal supply was bought for the porters, and during the entire day of the stoppage everybody regaled himself on finny food till he wished no more. The river was too deep to be forded, and the crossing was made partly by boats, and partly by means of an enormous weir, erected for the purpose of trapping fish. The weir extended about two-thirds the way across, and the rest of the bridge consisted of a single long and slender pole, resting on the forked stump of a tree. The weir was made by setting long poles in the river, and weaving twigs between them in a sort of basket-work. It was rather risky business walking on the top of the weir, or on the pole that formed the rest of the bridge, as a pedestrian might easily lose his balance and topple into the river. The porters had no trouble in maintaining their equilibrium, as they are accustomed all their lives to walk or run in narrow paths, and carry burdens more or less heavy on their heads or shoulders. Only one of them fell into the water, and it fortunately happened that his load was of a nature that was not injured by wetting. The instruments and other valuable things were ferried over, and the donkeys were forced to swim from bank to bank. When it came the turn of Frank and Fred to cross they boldly walked over, each carrying a balancing-pole, after the manner of the circus-performer. Doctor Bronson said the boat was good enough for him, as he was not inclined to emulate the acrobat and run the chance of being soaked in the stream. Frank suggested that it would be a good thing to have a troupe of trained monkeys to transport burdens across a stream of this sort. The imitative character of the monkey was well known, and perhaps he could be induced to copy the example of the negroes, and accompany the porters, with a burden suited to his size and strength. Doctor Bronson replied that all efforts to teach habits of industry to the monkey had failed, and he feared the proposal of his nephew would never amount to anything. Apropos of the youth's scheme he told the following anecdote: "I heard once, in New Orleans," said he, "a story of how a planter endeavored to have his cotton gathered by monkeys. "He had a large crop of cotton coming to maturity, and there was a scarcity of laborers. While studying what to do he thought of the peculiarities of the monkey and his habits of imitation. Hearing of the arrival of a ship from South America with a large cage full of monkeys, he proceeded to buy the entire lot. There were twenty-five healthy monkeys in the cage, and he immediately shipped them to his plantation. "He made a nice calculation that, from his superior agility and dexterity, one monkey ought to pick as much cotton as three negroes. With a negro to set the example the monkeys would follow the rows in the field, pick the cotton from the bush, and put it in the bag or basket, just as the negro did. One negro could manage ten monkeys and show them how to pick the cotton, and his twenty-five monkeys would be equal to seventy-five men. Besides, the labor of the negroes would count just the same as usual, since they would have nothing to do but pick the cotton and let the monkeys see how it was done. "The monkeys arrived a couple of weeks before the picking season began, and for all that time the negroes around the plantation did nothing but play with their new friends. When the work began the planter found he was sadly out in his calculations. "Instead of one negro managing ten monkeys it took at least ten negroes to manage one monkey, and even under this supervision the beast would not pick a pound of cotton in a day. The whole enterprise failed completely, and the monkeys--such of them as could be caught and re-caged--were sold to a travelling menagerie, at a great discount from first cost." [Illustration: CAMP ON THE EDGE OF THE MAKATA SWAMP.] One of the terrors of the road between Unyamyembe and Zanzibar is the Makata Swamp--a plain some forty miles wide, with the Makata River running through it. When dry there is no particular difficulty in crossing it, but in the season of rains it is a disagreeable expanse of mud, in which animals and men suffer greatly. Our party reached the edge of the swamp, and went into camp there for a couple of days, to give the men a good rest, preparatory to a long march. It rained on the day of their arrival; but the days in camp were pleasant, and the heat of the sun caused the water to disappear from the most of the hollows where it had accumulated. When they again moved forward the ground was in fairly good condition, though there were many elephant and rhinoceros tracks in the soft earth, some of them two or three feet deep. The donkeys and men occasionally slipped into these holes, and considerable time was lost in unloading the donkeys, to get them out of their troubles. They reached the river about dark, and the guide wanted to camp before crossing; but Doctor Bronson insisted upon getting everything on the other side at once, for fear it might rain during the night and swell the river to an inconvenient degree. There was a rough bridge over the river, which was practicable for men, but impassable for the donkeys. The little fellows were unloaded and compelled to swim the stream, much against their will, while their burdens were carried over the bridge by the porters. Everything was taken over safely, but it was long after dark before the crossing was accomplished. The result showed the wisdom of the Doctor's judgment, as it rained during the night, and the river rose so that the low banks on each side were flooded. But the day was fair; the heat again dried up the accumulated water, and the rest of the swamp was easily traversed. From the Makata Swamp to Bagamoya there were no farther obstacles to their progress. The boys were all eagerness to look once more on the Indian Ocean. Early one afternoon Frank flung his cap in the air and gave a wild hurrah as the broad water came into sight, and his cheer was echoed by his cousin. They shouted and shouted again, till the wondering porters near them had good reason to believe the youths had suddenly lost their senses. [Illustration: VIEW OF ZANZIBAR FROM THE SEA.] Finally, they dropped from their donkey-saddles at Bagamoya, and, without waiting for their servants to secure the animals, the two young Americans rushed to the beach, and were soon enjoying the luxury of a bath in the salt water. The long journey through Africa was at an end! Several days were required for settling the affairs of the expedition, paying the pagazi, balancing accounts with Ahmed ibn Suleyman, their merchant companion; selling the donkeys, whose services were no longer needed; and disposing of their tents and other camp equipage which had served its purpose. What could not be sold was given away, and their faithful servants came in for a liberal share in the distribution. Frank was specially elated, on counting his tusks of ivory, to find that everything was all right, and he more than kept his promise to Mohammed and the porters. Fred grew sentimental over his donkey, and at their last interview the young gentleman was inclined to embrace the long-eared animal, but was restrained by the reflection that he might make a "donkey" of himself by so doing. However, he patted the brute affectionately, and expressed the hope that he would always have good masters and plenty of straw to eat. [Illustration: FROM BAGAMOYA TO ZANZIBAR.] A couple of _dhows_, or Arab sailing-boats, were engaged for the voyage to Zanzibar--one by Doctor Bronson for himself and the youths, and the other by Ahmed ibn Suleyman. Early one morning the dhows set sail in company, and a run of eight hours carried them to Zanzibar. Three days later the mail-steamer for England (by way of Aden and Suez) left the harbor of Zanzibar, with our friends comfortably installed as passengers. In due time they reached home in safety, and received from relatives and friends the affectionate greetings they so well deserved. 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